Step Into the Sun (джен)

The warlock looked upon the gruff, monologuing man with disdain. The man had power, he could feel it, the earth could feel it, but selfish his use of it was contemptible. His arrogant demeanor gave the impression that he felt like he was owed his magic, like it was what he deserved merely for existing. Magic created, nourished, and destroyed when necessary. It was something gifted, something to be treasured and thankful for. Magic put itself into the bodies of humans as a way to bless them, not to be taken for granted. Magic was a breath of fresh air after nearly drowning, magic was the cries of a newborn baby, magic was a harrowing wind that knocked down everything in its path; magic was not only a tool but the very essence of the world. It could be controlled but not contained.
Or, Merlin and the Knights get captured by a sorcerer and Merlin BAMF's them out of the situation.