[Well - it's relieving to hear that Zevran doesn't seem to agree with locking up everyone practicing sorcery, so Merlin can stir his coffee a little less aggressively, now. He's still missing a lot of important context, he knows, but that doesn't stop him from leaping to much the same conclusion that he already has—it isn't magic's fault if a number of sorcerers are using it unfairly, or to harm others, or whatever...

A few selfish people damning the rest of them to living in poorer conditions on the assumption that they're all that bad? He supposes at least a school is better than execution, but it's still... reprehensible.]

You mentioned apostates earlier... [He shakes his head though, ready to talk about The Magic Itself before he moves on to more questions about what each of these new vocabulary words mean.]

Magic isn't... a creature, you know, with a beating heart. But it is the heart of everything—even those who disdain magic can have an aptitude for it. It isn't the magic that makes the laws. And something without a beating heart can't misuse itself.

[He shrugs, sitting back and lifting his cup but not taking a sip yet.] I told you I was born with magic; I'm not sure what I am without it. For better or worse, my magic is mine to use.

["magic doesn't kill people, people kill people" - anyway, now he'll drink this monstrosity of sugar he made, and he makes a face.] —bitter.