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The crystal cave rarely got any visitors, and that, Taliesin had decided centuries ago, was for the best. Those who wandered into the cave were either egotistical, hubristic sorcerers who were playing with forces that they could neither understand nor control, or clueless travelers who had no understanding of the sanctity of this place. After all, no magic user or druid who understood the importance and power held in the birthplace of magic would be foolish enough to trespass on such sacred ground.
Visitors always brought trouble in one way or another, so it was for the best that the crystal cave remained hidden, only accessible to those who were called to it by the will of destiny. The only ones who could find the cave were those who needed it, as fate allowed.
Taliesin was quite pleased with this restriction on trespassers, as it made his role as the guardian of the cave much easier to manage, even if it made his solemn duty a rather boring and solitary one.
However, it seemed that Taliesin did not account for one thing over his numerous centuries of keeping watch over the sacred cave. This was an unfortunate realization for the guardian spirit to have, as this oversight left him completely unprepared when a wave of magic, powerful and wild magic, burst forth from an unassuming cluster of crystals with a blinding flash of light, breaking the crystal itself into pieces and shattering the crystal formations around it.
Taliesin had never seen anything like it, and he could do nothing but look on in horror. Those crystals were pure condensed magic, able to peer through the fabric of time itself to show their users the past, present, and future, everything that was and everything that could be. What sort of power could blast a whole wall of them to pieces?
The guardian of the crystals was so distraught over this development that, even with the enhanced awareness that his otherworldly powers granted him, it took him a few seconds to realize that there was a lone figure, a man, hunched over in the epicenter of the broken crystals, as if it was the stranger’s mere presence that caused the sacred crystals to burst.
“I don’t know who you are or how you managed to destroy these crystals, but you must leave, trespasser, now! You have besmirched this sacred place with your actions here!”
The man simply looked up at Taliesin, appearing almost bored at being scolded by the guardian of the birthplace of magic. Gritting his teeth with rage, Taliesin raised his staff, ready to smite this trespasser for his transgressions against the holiest site of the old religion. But before he could strike the ground with his staff and end this threat that had so suddenly appeared, the stranger lazily threw out his arm, as if waving away an annoying bug.
Taliesin paused for a moment, staring at the man in confusion, but he didn’t have enough time to even wonder what the intruder was doing before another wave of magic, this one even more destructive and savage than the first, erupted from the stranger, blasting Taliesin backwards into the a wall of crystals, which cracked and crumbled under the stranger’s power.
Taliesin wheezed out a gasping breath, the feeling of pain being so foreign to him after centuries of living as a spirit. This man’s power not only attacked Taliesin’s physical form, but also Taliesin’s own magic, dimming the golden light of the magic that sustained his spirit.
Taliesin struggled to his feet, his grasp on the mortal plane weakening, while he heard the intruder walking past, making his way towards the cave’s exit.
As the stranger’s footsteps faded, the guardian spirit of the crystal cave stared in horror at the demolished crystal shards littering the stone cave floor. He hung his head in shame, almost brought to tears by the sight of the sacred crystals destroyed so callously. He had failed his duty horribly, all because of one mistake.
He had never anticipated that an intruder might enter the cave through the crystals themselves.
“I use it for you, Arthur, only for you.”
“How could you say that? How could you decide to wield magic when you know how much it’s taken from us? I just had to take back my kingdom from my own sister, all because her magic corrupted her! Magic took my mother from me, my father from me, my sister from me, and now you’re letting it take you from my side as well!”
“No! Magic is neither good nor evil, it simply exists as itself! It’s like a sword, if it’s used for good or evil only depends on who wields it!”
“After everything we’ve faced, all the pain that magic has brought me and my kingdom, do you really expect me to believe that?”
“If you have any trust for me left in your heart, you must believe that, because that’s the truth.”
There were very few things that, without fail, made Arthur feel at home. Talking with Guinevere after a long day, joking around with Merlin if something was troubling his mind, and, of course, fighting with a sword in his hand. He had been taught the study of the blade ever since he could walk, and it came as naturally as breathing to him at this point. He had, of course, mastered combat with other weapons as he grew, but none of them felt quite as natural to him as a sword.
The familiar, repetitive motions of training against a dummy or sparring with one of his brothers in arms never failed to ease the tension in his shoulders that grew worse with every passing day that he wore the crown and carried the weight of the responsibility for the wellbeing of all his subjects. Merlin could always tell whenever Arthur’s stress was becoming too much for him to bear, no matter how hard Arthur tried to hide it from his dearest friend, and Merlin made sure to set aside time on those days for Arthur to visit the training grounds.
It was a nice escape, even if it was only for a couple hours before his duties as king caught up to him again. Slash, parry, dodge, stab, and repeat until all of his worries had left his mind, put to rest by the repeated motion.
Arthur lost track of time easily when he was training, losing himself to the familiar rhythm of the blade. He mostly relied on Merlin to regretfully tell him when there was another matter that required his presence, forcing him to leave the training field and attend whatever meeting or audience demanded the king’s presence. Still, he always left the training field a little less tense than how he entered it, and that made dealing with everything that came with the title of king just a little easier to deal with.
Today though, Arthur could tell that Merlin had ended his training session earlier than usual, which was further confirmed by the fact that Merlin’s face was red and his breathing was heavy, like he had just ran down from the castle as fast as he could.
After Merlin took a moment to catch his breath, during which time Arthur just looked at him with mild irritation at his training being interrupted, Merlin relayed a disturbing message. Apparently, Sir Leon’s three-day patrol had returned early, claiming to have found evidence of a powerful magic user. Merlin didn’t mention it, but Arthur could infer what Merlin had left out of his message: Morgana was most likely involved in this somehow.
Sighing deeply and feeling the weight of the crown bear down on him once more, Arthur sheathed his sword and walked back up to the castle with Merlin, who was trying and failing to lift Arthur’s spirits with some inane anecdote of the castle’s servant gossip.
As Arthur marched into the council room with his head held high, he noted that most of the round table had already been assembled, no doubt spurred into action by the urgency that Morgana’s return would warrant. Arthur solemnly made his way to his seat next to Guinevere, who had been acting as stewardess for the past couple of years. She took his hand as he sat down, attempting to provide him with some comfort. Arthur tried to give her a reassuring smile, but he was sure that it fell flat. Merlin stood silently behind Arthur, his ever-present and reassuring shadow.
While Arthur settled in, he glanced at Leon, who would be giving his urgent report on his patrol’s findings. To Arthur’s growing horror and unease, Leon, ever-steady and unshakable Leon, was a sickly pale, his eyes slightly wild. The sight of his old friend looking so spooked and frightened discomforted Arthur, putting his nerves on edge. His finger itched to grasp at the hilt of his sword, but this was not a problem that could be fought with a blade. Not yet at least, as they still needed to understand where Morgana was and what she was planning.
When the last members of the round table sat down, Arthur officially opened the meeting, succinctly informing everyone present of the news that Leon’s patrol had found evidence of Morgana’s sorcery, which was no doubt a part of her latest scheme to overthrow Camelot. With that, he turned the meeting over to Leon so that the first knight could give his account of what he had found.
Arthur kept his eyes trained on Leon, still disturbed by this fear in his usually calm friend. What could the battle-hardened Leon have witnessed that would have him trembling while he stands to recount his patrol? Even as Leon began his report, his voice wavered, sending a shiver down Arthur"s spine at the sheer wrongness of it.
“As many of you know, I departed from Camelot alongside three fellow knights yesterday on a routine patrol to the east, heading towards the Valley of the Fallen Kings in an attempt to locate the bandit camps that have infiltrated that area. But as we approached the entrance to the valley, we came across a terrible sight.”
Leon went from concerningly pale to a nauseating green as he said this, like the very memory made him sick. Arthur leaned forward, his heart pounding and ready to do battle against whatever terrible sorcerer or beast Morgana has sent their way.
“There, at the valley’s entrance, was what remained of a large bandit camp, but by the time we arrived, it was the aftermath of a massacre unlike anything I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. Well over two hundred bandits lay dead in the mud, their bodies and limbs mangled, but there were no wounds on their skin, no marks from a blade of any kind. It was as if something had broken their bodies from within! It was easy to conclude that the slaughter could have only been the work of powerful sorcery, and this was confirmed when we checked the mud for tracks and only found one set of footprints walking through the camp, heading away from the valley. These tracks were large, most likely made by a man judging by the size and gait. We tried to follow these tracks, but as soon as they reached the edge of the bandit’s camp, they disappeared.”
By the end of his report, Leon was shaking terribly as he sat back down, and at once the table was alight with frantic shouting, each advisor and knight having a different opinion on what their next steps ought to be. Arthur took in this chaos silently, still trying to process the full implications of what Leon had just said. Guinevere still held onto his hand, squeezing it to comfort him as the shouting and bickering continued. Finally, after several minutes of ignoring the chaos around him and gathering his thoughts, Arthur stood up, silencing the arguing councilmembers.
“That’s enough! I know that this new foe presents a threat that we have not dealt with before. This enemy is an unknown danger to us, which makes him frightening and unpredictable, but we don’t have enough information about this sorcerer to make any serious decisions as of yet. He might be working with Morgana, or he might be working by himself. He might try to target Camelot, or he might have lashed out at those bandits in self-defense. We don’t even know if he was traveling towards Camelot or not!
Our resources are spread thin enough as it is, trying to defend ourselves from Morgana. We do not have the time nor the resources to hunt down one sorcerer who may or may not be a threat to us. For now, we have no other choice but to wait.”
“Besides,” Arthur continued with a darkening grimace, “it is the way of sorcerers to attack unprovoked and do whatever they please. If this murderous sorcerer is truly making his way towards Camelot, then we will have confirmation quickly, as he would surely leave a trail of destruction and death in his wake. For now, we’ll keep the knights on alert for any suspicious or unusual activity and keep our focus on preparing for Morgana’s next attack. Are we all in agreement with this?”
All of the lords and knights around the table nodded their heads in agreement, some more hesitantly than others. While the council members began talking amongst themselves about Arthur’s decision, Arthur snuck a glance over his shoulder and was met with the very welcome sight of Merlin giving him an encouraging smile, reassuring him that he’d made the right decision, that this wasn’t some terrible mistake he was making by prioritizing Morgana as the bigger threat. Arthur turned back and looked around the table, seeing agreement and understanding on all of his advisor’s faces, and he let him relax just a bit.
(What Arthur did not see, however, was the look of stony determination that grew on Merlin’s face as soon as his back was turned.)
“Now tell me, how is my Court Sorcerer neglecting his duties today? By summoning butterflies for little children in the market, or by turning the lords on my council into toads?”
“Oh come off of it, you prat! I’m doing very important work, I’ll have you know!”
“Yes, because stirring a pot is such a vital duty to the kingdom. I’m sure the cook would agree with you on that one.”
“Hey, this is a potion to help ease lingering pains! There’s plenty of people in the lower town who benefit from it! Now quit messing around with my ingredients, would you?”
“Let me guess, or else you’ll turn me into a toad?”
“Oh, will you shut up about that?! That was one time, and Gwaine did that to himself by messing around with my supplies, like you’re doing right now! Besides, I don’t think that spell would work on you anyways, since you already have the appearance of a toad.”
“Merlin.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
It spoke volumes about the bond that Merlin and Arthur had built over the years that, if Arthur awoke to anything that was not some annoyingly cheerful phrase like “rise and shine!” or “up and at ‘em!”, then his body’s first instinct is to grab the sword at the bedside and prepare for attack, as something was clearly wrong in the world if he was waking up to anything that wasn’t Merlin’s chipper voice.
Such was the case that night, when the doors to his chambers suddenly burst open to reveal a panicking Sirs Elyan and Gwaine. Arthur’s blade was unsheathed and ready for attack before either of the two had even taken a step into the room itself. It took Arthur a moment to recognize through the lingering haze of sleep that the intruders were just his own knights, and if their hasty ramblings were anything to go by, they had an urgent message for him.
Quickly rubbing his eyes, Arthur attempted to make sense of what they were trying, and failing, to tell him.
“I can’t understand a word of what either of you are trying to tell me. This had better be important for the two of you to wake your king up in the middle of the night. Now tell me clearly, what has happened that has you both so worked up?”
Gwaine and Elyan exchanged a hard look, both of their jaws clenched stress. Arthur’s brows furrowed at the sight of the two usually light hearted knights looking so intense. They seemed to reach some sort of understanding in their wordless exchange, since when they turned back to Arthur, Gwaine finally answered his question in an uncharacteristically grave voice.
“It’s Merlin, sire. He’s missing, and we don’t think he left willingly.”
Arthur’s heart jolted with fear at those words, his panic banishing any remaining drowsiness in an instant.
“What do you mean he’s missing?! Where did he go? How long has he been gone? Who could have taken him?!”
Gwaine and Elyan both looked grave as they recounted how, about an hour ago, a group of guards had seen Merlin making his way east towards the forest, in the direction of the valley of the fallen kings. When the guards tried to call out to him, he didn’t respond, and when they tried to catch up to him, he seemingly disappeared into the woods, with no traces of him left behind. After that, the guards had sprinted back to the castle to raise the alarm that Merlin had been kidnapped by magic.
Upon hearing this story, the knights had conducted a frantic search through the castle, which confirmed that Merlin was indeed nowhere to be found. After confirming the guards’ story, most of the knights started gathering supplies for a search party while Gwaine and Elyan were sent to inform Arthur of Merlin"s magical abduction.
After hearing the whole story, the pit of dread in Arthur’s stomach that had been present since Leon’s report opened up into a gaping chasm of despair and guilt that threatened to swallow Arthur whole.
This must be the work of that new sorcerer, Arthur just knew it! Merlin was heading towards where the sorcerer had been, and Merlin and his tracks disappeared, just like the sorcerer’s did! That monstrous wizard must have done something to Merlin, and it was all Arthur’s fault.
If he had just made a different decision, had focused on this new, mysterious threat instead of spending all his time focused on Morgana, then perhaps they could have caught this sorcerer before any harm befell the person whom he cared most about in the world, but now it was too late.
No, Arthur reassured himself. Merlin was still alive, he had to be. The sorcerer no doubt took Merlin as an attack on Arthur as punishment for Camelot’s continued ban on magic, most likely to be used as a hostage. And, as much as it pained Arthur to admit it, this cunning sorcerer had chosen an effective hostage.
Even now, Arthur contemplated as he gripped his sword until his knuckles turned white and took off to the east on his swiftest warhorse, Arthur wasn’t sure what he wouldn’t give up to keep Merlin by his side.
“Arthur, please, listen to me! You cannot fight in this battle! You heard the Catha’s prophecy just as well as I did! You’re destined to die in this battle, so please, I’m begging you, don’t go out there!”
“I swore that I would defend my kingdom from Morgana at any cost. Even if I do not live through this battle, if my people are safe, then it all have been worth it.”
“Please, don’t go. We still have a future to build together, and I need you to be there to see it.”
“I’m so sorry, my love, but I must do this. Besides, I have the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth protecting me, won’t I? Morgana doesn’t stand a chance! We’ll overcome that prophecy about my bane like we have every other challenge that has come our way.”
“Just, please be careful Arthur. I don’t know how I’d go on if I lost you.”
“Don’t worry Merlin, you won’t have to. I promise.”
The sun’s first rays of light in the morning illuminated the forest floor, making the search party’s job just a little bit easier. They had examined the area where Merlin’s footsteps vanished for hours, but there was nothing to be found in the surrounding area. No strange tracks, no abandoned structures to hide in, not even any signs of a struggle. It was as if Merlin had simply vanished between one step and the next.
Arthur bit back a frustrated scream as the better light still did not grant them any additional clues to Merlin or his kidnapper’s whereabouts. After several hours of finding nothing, desperation led Arthur to an ill-advised idea.
“Look, I want to find Merlin just as much as you do princess, but we don’t even know if the sorcerer is even in the Valley of the Fallen Kings, much less if he’s holding Merlin there!”
“Would you rather we uselessly search through the forest again in case we missed something the first twenty times, then? The valley is the one place that we know for certain that the sorcerer has been to, we have to at least check. It’s the best guess that we’ve got, and the longer Merlin is with that madman, the greater the chances are that we never find him at all!”
Gwaine flinched back at Arthur’s outburst, looking like the very thought of Merlin’s death at the hands of a crazed sorcerer pained him greatly. Arthur knew the feeling well.
The search party made haste to the Valley of the Fallen Kings in silence, each of them dreading what they might find there. The journey to the valley was surprisingly easy since they would have normally been attacked by bandits long before they reached the valley, but it seemed as though the sorcerer’s previous massacre of the bandit camp had scared all of the others off. Or, Arthur thought darkly to himself, the monster who had taken Merlin from him had killed all of the bandits, not stopping his reign of carnage at one camp of them. It wouldn’t surprise Arthur, given the bloodlust that he usually saw from particularly powerful sorcerers.
Soon, they came upon the decimated bandit camp that Leon had given his report on. The stench of death and rot announced its presence long before the search party could lay their eyes on the horrible sight. And by god almighty, it was even worse than Leon had described it.
Mutilated bodies littered the ground, their bodies bent at such grotesque angles thay Arthur at times wasn’t even sure what part of the body he was looking at. Many of the broken bodies weren’t even holding weapons, appearing as if they’d been struck down so brutally whilst unarmed. Arthur clenched his jaw at the sight, not wanting to imagine how many of his own men would end up with a similar fate should they find this monster of a sorcerer. Arthur’s mind couldn’t even bring itself to imagine what such a cruel man would do to Merlin, to wonder what state Merlin would be in when they found him.
No, no. Merlin was alive, Arthur knew it down to his bones. He wouldn’t be too late. They would rescue Merlin, and everything would be alright.
After passing by the sickening sight of the remains of the bandit camp, the knights rode into the Valley of the Fallen Kings in silence. No one wanted to say a word, unable to give voice to the awful fear that they were all sharing over Merlin’s fate.
Their silent trek through the valley lasted for several hours, their collective dread rising with each passing minute that their friend was in the clutches of an insane, bloodthirsty sorcerer. Arthur’s grip on the hilt on his sword stayed tight, ready to end this threat who was foolish enough to threaten Merlin.
Merlin’s place was at Arthur’s side, and Arthur would ensure that anyone unwise enough to forcefully take him from there would pay with their lives.
Arthur’s eyes constantly scanned the terrain, searching for anything, even the most minute detail, that was out of place. Sorcerers, being the arrogant bunch that they were, had a penchant for hiding in plain sight, as if they found amusement in mocking others for being unable to notice them. There were plenty of false alarms, from animal tracks to the wind rustling branches in an odd way, but they still stopped to check each one, refusing to let the chance of rescuing Merlin slip past them due to a careless oversight.
They trudged forward, examining every nook and cranny, until finally, Arthur"s attention was drawn to something on the edge of his vision. It was initially just a dark spot on the slope of the valley surrounding them, but as he got closer to it, he could see that it was a cleverly hidden entrance to a cave, almost entirely imperceivable from the main trail.
He quietly called the knights over and signaled for them to use stealth as they entered the cave. If this was indeed where the sorcerer was hiding, they would need the element of surprise on their side to gain the upper hand. The knights nodded silently in agreement, their expressions grim and resolute.
Together, they ventured into the cave, staying vigilant for any sign of the sorcerer in the darkness. However, to their collective surprise, the cave wasn’t dark for very long, as the entrance chamber of the cave quickly opened up into a huge cavern, filled from the floor to the top with glowing crystals.
Arthur was mesmerized by the beautiful sight for only a moment before his focus returned to him, reminding him of his mission. He signaled for the knights to follow his lead as he made his way deeper into the otherworldly cavern. There was something about this place that put Arthur’s nerves on edge, that whispered that there was something wrong here. It was the same feeling he got as when he was on the Isle of the Blessed or in the druid spirit’s shrine…
Arthur’s limbs froze with the realization. It was magic. This place had magic, and a lot of it apparently. And that meant that they must be getting closer to that sorcerer, who would pay dearly for his crimes at Arthur’s hand. And sure enough, only a few moments later, a faint voice could be heard echoing throughout the cave, the noise carried far by the arching stone surrounding them.
The knights moved soundlessly through the cave, their determination plain on their faces. Their enemy was here, and he would be defeated, he had to be. They followed the voice, only pausing when they heard a second, very familiar voice respond. While they couldn’t make out the words, that was Merlin’s voice, there was no mistaking it.
The knights all shared a quick glance at each other, relief rushing through each of them. Merlin was alive, and it sounded like he wasn’t in much pain. Their friend would be fine, but they just needed to rescue him first.
As they finally approached the origin of the voices, they arrived to a terrible sight: Merlin was bound and unable to move while the sorcerer, a cloaked figure, drew magical symbols on him! Those were probably some sort of awful spell or ritual that would kill Merlin!
Unable to watch another moment of this, Arthur clenched the hilt of his blade and ran forward with a war cry, with the knights following suit behind him. For a moment, it seemed like their plan had worked, as the cloaked sorcerer was so surprised at their attack that he dropped the paste he was using to draw those symbols on Merlin, and Arthur closed in on him quickly, ready to strike him down for daring to steal Merlin from Arthur’s side, where he belonged.
Arthur’s face broke out in a savage grin as his sword swung unimpeded towards the sorcerer’s torso, poised to deal a fatal blow. Yes, he would kill this dangerous sorcerer, save Merlin, and return home triumphant! Everything would be–
Arthur’s thoughts were cut off by a blazing flash of light, which was shortly followed by the unfortunately familiar sensation of being thrown off of his feet and into the wall of the cave behind him, knocking the air out of his chest and leaving him to fall to the ground gasping in pain.
By the time the light dimmed and Arthur could see again, all of the knights had been defeated as well, unconscious and unable to stand up and defend themselves against this deranged sorcerer. As Arthur struggled to his knees, the sorcerer’s head whipped around to face him, and he made his way over to Arthur with measured steps that echoed off the cave walls ominously, heralding Arthur’s death drawing closer.
The sorcerer stood above Arthur, certainly ready to end the Pendragon line once and for all. Gathering the last of his strength as his vision began to grow dark, Arthur lifted his head to look up at the sorcerer’s face for the first time, determined to at least see the face of the man who would kill him.
But, from under the cloak’s hood, it was his own face that stared back dispassionately at him.
“Don’t look so shocked, brother, it’s not a good look on you. I have a dragon of my own you know, so why wouldn’t I make my own blade forged in dragonfire?”
“Do you even know the power that you’re playing with by wielding such a blade, Morgana?”
“Do not lecture me of all people on the powers of magic, you coward! I know damned well what I’m doing! I’m securing my rightful place on the throne of Camelot, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop me!”
…
“Merlin? Merlin!!”
“Ar– Arthur…”
“Well, it seems as though the mighty Emrys is not my doom after all! I know that not much can kill you, but I’d bet that a dragon-forged blade would succeed in finally ending you. What a shame too! You were immortal, Emrys. You could have lived forever. Instead, you jump in front of the only thing that can kill you, all for the sake of a– AAHH!”
“Goodbye, Morgana.”
…
“Merlin, Merlin, can you hear me? You’ll be alright Merlin, I’ll get you to Gaius, you’ll be fine!”
“Ar… thur.”
“Don’t you dare say goodbye to me Merlin, you’ll live through this! That’s an order from your king!”
“Ar… thur… I’m glad… that it was… you.”
“Merlin? Merlin, come on, wake up! Merlin!!”
Arthur, for the most part, did not think that he would ever wake up again. He had completely anticipated that a dangerous sorcerer who had defeated the king of Camelot would take the next logical step and just kill him.
So, Arthur contemplated as he unexpectedly opened his eyes to the sight of the inside of a cave, either the afterlife looked remarkably like the cave that he was just in, or the sorcerer had spared him. Honestly, Arthur would put it at fifty-fifty odds either way.
Arthur groans as he attempts to climb to his feet, only to feel an unexpected resistance on his wrists, knees, and ankles. Arthur looked down at himself, and panic pushed his mind fully into wakefulness as it finally registered the situation. He was bound in a cave by a deranged sorcerer that had somehow managed to transform his face into Arthur’s, while Arthur himself was unable to escape or even defend himself! Looking around the room, Arthur was relieved to see his fellow knights all alive, but also in a similar situation as Arthur, being bound and weaponless, but otherwise mostly unharmed.
No sooner than Arthur woke up and took stock of his situation, he could hear Merlin’s voice, which sounded like it was coming from somewhere nearby, and a deeper voice responding, surely that dastardly’s sorcerer’s. The words were once again distorted by the echo of the cave chambers, but Arthur could make out some of what was said, but not all of it.
“Magic… not work… you… how… who are you?”
“My magic… came from… your… cannot… attack… itself. I’ll… more… later.”
Arthur swallowed thickly. Merlin was certainly trying to get information out of the sorcerer by irritating him with questions, but such a tactic could easily put Merlin in even more danger than he was already in if the sorcerer became too annoyed with his questions.
There was a long beat of silence between the two voices, which caused Arthur"s heart to beat at a frantic rhythm. Oh god, what if the sorcerer had just done something to Merlin? Had he stolen Merlin’s voice to silence him?!
Arthur’s breathing picked up as his panic grew with each passing moment that he could not hear Merlin’s voice, his imagination running wild with all of the terrible possibilities of what might be happening to Merlin while he was stuck sitting uselessly in this damned cave!
After what felt like an eternity, footsteps started echoing across the cavern, growing louder as they approached where Arthur and his knights had been set aside. Arthur braced himself for pain, preparing himself to face whatever horrors this bloodthirsty monster wearing his face like a disguise would throw his way.
Finally, the sorcerer stepped into view, this time with his head uncovered, proudly displaying his stolen visage. And there, slung over his shoulder like a sack of vegetables, was a restrained and gagged but thankfully, blessedly, unharmed Merlin.
The sorcerer came closer to Arthur, with Merlin still slung over his shoulder, and Arthur scowled at the face-thief, trying to shift into the best possible fighting position despite his current state. But the sorcerer ignored Arthur entirely, instead focusing on placing Merlin gently on the floor of the cave, right next to Arthur.
Confusion welled up again inside Arthur. What was this sorcerer playing at? Was this some sort of intimidation tactic? A negotiation technique?
“You can stop looking so worried, he’s alright.”
Arthur jolted at the sound of his own voice addressing him. It disturbed Arthur greatly to hear it spoken to himself in such a way. However, his discomfort was soon replaced by a familiar rage.
“Who are you? How dare you kidnap my manservant and try to impersonate me using sorcery! You will pay for this transgression of Camelot’s laws!”
The sorcerer then had the audacity to laugh at Arthur’s outrage, as if being faced with a furious king of Camelot was nothing more than mild entertainment for him. It made Arthur’s blood boil, sorcerers haughtily dismissing all of those who they deem to be below them.
“Well, Arthur, I know that this might be difficult for you to believe, but I am you. Or at least, what you could have become.”
Arthur’s brows furrowed at the sorcerer’s words, unable to parse out what he meant by them as the sorcerer continued his explanation.
“These crystals, you see, can harness magic to peer through time, but they can also act as a gateway when enough magical pressure is applied to them. In this case, I’ve managed to use them as a gateway to travel from my timelines to yours, to seek out a world where certain events in my life happened a different way.”
“You’re clearly deranged if you expect me to believe any of this nonsense. Magic’s corruption of your soul must have addled your mind as well.”
The sorcerer only gave an irritated huff at that, not rising to Arthur’s bait as he had hoped would happen. Instead, the sorcerer only sighed and took a step back, looking oddly contemplative.
“If I were not you, then how would I know about the fact that you snuck into your mother’s sealed chambers despite your father’s orders multiple times as a child? How would I know that the only thing you ever took from her chambers was a beautifully decorated quill, something no one would recognize as hers, but something that would keep her memory close to you regardless? How would I know that your penmanship tutor broke that quill a couple years later when he was swatting your hand for making an error, and you spent the rest of the night sobbing over that broken quill?”
The sorcerer leaned in close and dropped his voice to a whisper, speaking only for Arthur’s ears as Arthur lay frozen on the floor, petrified with horror at the man’s intimate knowledge of Arthur’s own memories.
“If I were not you, how would I know any of that? How would I know that you lie awake at night, fantasizing about what you could tell your manservant when he wakes you up in the morning, but you never go through with it in the end.”
Arthur reeled back in shock at hearing one of his closest held secrets laid bare by his own lips.
“You’re lying, you must be! You have copied my appearance using sorcery, I’ve seen this before, and then you must have used a dark spell to read my mind, looking for secrets to use against me! I would never, in any life, turn to sorcery!”
The face-stealing sorcerer merely smiled condescendingly at him, ratcheting Arthur’s rage up even higher.
“Believe whatever you’d like at this point, since it doesn’t even matter now. My home timeline is gone, withered away into ash thanks to a curse that Morgana laid upon the land by killing Emrys, the incarnation of magic. I was granted this magic by Emrys while he lay dying, as a means to combat Morgana’s curse, but I failed.”
As the sorcerer wearing Arthur’s visage began his story, he cupped his hands together and brought them up to his mouth. Then, Arthur witnessed one of the most abhorrent and revolting sights he had ever laid his eyes on: his own blue eyes, the same shade as his mother’s, burning a horrible, molten gold. Arthur felt sick at the mere sight of it.
As the sorcerer uncupped his hands, Arthur flinched back, unarmed and unable to defend himself against whatever spell this monster was about to throw at him. But the attack never came. Instead, from the sorcerer’s hands flew two etherall glowing butterflies, one blue (the same shade as Merlin’s eyes, Arthur’s mind whispered unhelpfully to him) and one gold. Arthur stared at the two fluttering insects in confusion for a few seconds, unable to understand what the sorcerer was playing at. However, the sorcerer wasn’t even looking at Arthur. Instead his focus was entirely on Merlin, whose eyes were wide with shock at the sight of the butterflies. Arthur forced himself to bite back a comment rebuking Merlin for getting so easily distracted by girly things while they were in danger.
Finally, the sorcerer turned back towards Arthur, thankfully taking his attention off of Merlin, and continued his ridiculous tale.
“Despite everything I tried, the crops withered and died under the curse, followed by the animals, and followed by my people. The magic granted to me kept me alive and safe from the curse, but as a result, I was forced to watch everyone in Camelot, everyone I love, wither away into ash.
And I was left alone as the king of a dead, desolate land. That was, until I learned of a way to travel to a different timeline, a different world, where things hadn’t turned out as poorly as they did for me. I could go to a world where everyone I loved was still alive and happy. And so, I did.”
Arthur watched in numb horror as the sorcerer’s indifferent expression finally fell away, giving way to a malicious, threatening smile that looked entirely out of place on Arthur’s face.
“And now, I’m here.”
“What do you mean that nature cannot heal itself?! It’s nature, that’s what it does!”
“I am so sorry, your majesty, but without Emrys himself present and his magic no longer tied to the land, the lands of Albion will lose their life.”
“And is there any way to remove Merlin’s magic from me? To give it back to the land?”
“The only way to remove Emrys’s magic from you would be by killing you, sire, but with Emrys’s magic protecting you, you cannot die. It will not allow your death.”
“So you mean to tell me that there’s nothing I can do?! That I must sit back and watch as my people die and my kingdom becomes nothing?!”
“I’m afraid that there is nothing else we can do, your majesty.”
Arthur and his knights stared at this sorcerous version of Arthur in horror, and it slowly dawned on Arthur how this man, this broken, crazed sorcerer, could be himself. The more he thought about it, the more it, disturbingly, made sense. If Arthur had been forced to live through such a thing, to see his people cursed to die slowly as he himself was cursed with magic that would corrupt his soul from within and force him to watch everyone around him die, Arthur wasn’t sure if he would come out as the same person either.
All of a sudden, this alternate Arthur seemed… horrifyingly believable.
“I’m… I’m truly sorry that you had to go through all of that, but that still doesn’t explain what exactly you’re doing here.”
The sorcerer Arthur’s face slowly grew into a mad grin, filled with a disturbing mania.
“I’m here for the happy ending that I was so cruelly denied. Destiny promised me a prosperous golden age, and I will see it come to pass this time.”
The sorcerer’s eyes drifted back towards Merlin as he said that, lingering on him with that manic smile still on his face. After a few seconds of staring at Merlin, his eyes shot back to Arthur, bloodshot and piercing. Arthur had to fight the urge to flinch back at the sight of them.
“But a happy ending for me could take on many forms. That’s why I’m offering you a choice!”
Arthur’s eyebrows raised at that, unsure of what to make of his duplicate’s cheerful offer.
“What kind of choice?”
If it was possible, the sorcerer’s grin grew even more sinister, his eyes even more crazed.
“I’m willing to leave your Camelot alone, to let you rule in peace. After the disaster that befell my kingdom, I’m not in a rush to take up the burden of a crown again any time soon. I just want to run off to some distant land and become a farmer, live a peaceful and simple life, just like you so often dream of.”
Arthur nodded along, understanding his duplicate’s dream, as it was one that he thought of frequently. The one thing about that that put his nerves on edge, however, was that in this dream, Arthur never ran off to become a farmer on his own. No, in his little fantasy, Merlin was always right there with him, the two of them building a life together.
And Arthur knew that this version of him certainly had Merlin as a part of his dream as well.
“While that does sound like a great solution to this situation, what’s the catch?”
Please don’t say Merlin, Arthur thought to himself. Please don’t say Merlin.
The sorcerous Arthur manic grin grew softer, and his eyes drifted back towards… Merlin.
Damn it. Arthur knew where this was going, and dread bubbled up heavily in his stomach.
“If I am to leave you in peace and live out my days in a distant land, I don’t want to be alone. If I am to leave, I want Merlin to come with me.”
Arthur’s response was immediate and without any hesitation, his knee-jerk reaction to the thought of Merlin being taken from him.
“Absolutely not! Merlin will stay in Camelot, where he belongs! He will be going nowhere with you, sorcerer!”
His alternate sighed deeply, but looked otherwise unbothered, like he had fully expected such a response. Arthur considered that since they were one and the same, he most likely had known his offer would be met with such a refusal.
The other Arthur looked down at him, his face no longer looking quite as crazed as it did before, as it now wore a look of grim determination. And to his horror, Arthur knew that look.
That was the expression Arthur wore whenever he was going to do what needed to be done, regardless of the consequences.
“And here is where you’re left with a choice. You can either let me take Merlin with me and live out my days in peace, or I will come to your Camelot and conquer it by force, tearing down all you hold dear, and take back my throne that way.”
The bastard had the audacity to keep smiling pleasantly as he made his threats, looking like he was thoroughly enjoying the way that Arthur’s face went pale with horror at his ultimatum.
“The choice is yours, Arthur. Which will you give up: Merlin, or your entire kingdom?”
The two Arthurs stared at each other, one in horror and one in sick amusement. The tense silence between them was only broken by the sound of Merlin trying to yell something from behind his gag, his words unintelligible.
The sorcerer sighed and leaned back, looking deep in thought for a moment before turning back to Arthur again.
“Despite what you may think of me, I am not an unreasonable man. I’ll give you three days to make your decision. On the sunset of the third day, either Merlin is sent out of the eastern gate of Camelot alone, or I will make your kingdom tremble before my power. I suggest you use this time to think about my offer, and I urge you to choose… wisely.”
With one last smirk sent Arthur’s way, the sorcerous Arthur waved his hand and, in an instant, disappeared with a blinding flash light while everyone’s bindings dissolved.
Arthur stood up as soon as he could, checking over Merlin and the knights. While the knights were unharmed, merely shaken by what they had just seen and heard, Merlin was incensed, and he began ranting angrily the moment that Arthur removed the piece of cloth that was gagging him.
“I cannot believe that selfish prat! Making you choose and placing the blame on you for his own evil deeds!”
Arthur swallowed thickly, decidedly not telling Merlin about how he understood exactly why the other version of him had levied the choice that he had. Merlin seemed to be under the impression that this alternate Arthur was as alien and unreasonable to Arthur himself as he was to Merlin, but that was not necessarily the case.
No, Arthur understood that other him completely, and wasn’t that a terrifying thought? That he could see himself clearly in those wild, bloodshot eyes that could gleam a malicious gold.
“King Arthur, if you have any respect for the natural order of this world, then you will not go through with this.”
“Don’t try to stop me, Taliesin. It was your precious natural order that took everything from me, and now I will gladly break it to pieces to get my life back. I will have the golden age as destiny foretold, and I will not let you get in my way.”
“Foolish boy! These crystals are pure magic, you do not know the powers with which you meddle!”
“Oh, I assure you, I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m setting things right.”
The joy at rescuing Merlin unharmed was short-lived, overshadowed by the threat now looming over the entire kingdom.
The ride back to Camelot was tense and somber, with the knights sticking close to Merlin, almost like they were anticipating every shadow to reach out and snatch him away. And for all they knew about their enemy’s powers, that very well might happen.
They traveled in a tense silence at first, but about halfway through the journey home, Merlin finally addressed the ultimatum that had been burrowing its way through each of their minds, leaving dread in its wake.
“You know I’ll have to go with him, right? Between me and the whole kingdom, that’s not a difficult choice to make.”
A wry smile graced Merlin’s lips as he said that, unaware of the horror that he had just slapped everyone else across the face with. Arthur stopped and grabbed Merlin by the shoulders, spinning him around to face Arthur with what must have been a bruising grip, but Arthur didn’t register that at the time, his mind too preoccupied by an overwhelming panic at the thought of losing Merlin for good.
“No! You’re not leaving with some dangerous sorcerer, Merlin, I forbid it! We’re going back to Camelot, where you will be staying, that sorcerer’s choice be damned!”
Merlin just looked at Arthur with sad, understanding eyes, and Arthur hated it. How could he look at Arthur like that, like Arthur was everything good and pure in the world, while Arthur was contemplating risking his people’s safety for his own selfish desires?
Luckily, the knights seemed to be on the same page as Arthur, as they quickly jumped in too, telling Merlin that he couldn’t go, that they would protect him, that everything would be fine. However, Merlin still pushed back against them.
“Then what do you propose we do? You can’t just keep me in Camelot, he’ll try to attack if you do!”
Arthur rolled his eyes at Merlin, equal parts in genuine exasperation for his stubborn friend and attempting to lighten the mood a bit, hoping to ease the overwhelming fear that Merlin was surely feeling in that moment.
“We will defend ourselves, Merlin, which is obviously a foreign concept to you, given how often you find yourself in trouble like this.”
Arthur ignored the half-hearted glare that Merlin sent his way at the playful jab and continued.
“He’s given us three days to prepare, which is plenty of time to shore up our defenses and place enough knights around the city to properly fortify it for any attack. When he comes to Camelot, he’ll be met with the full force of the knights of Camelot, and he won’t stand a chance!”
The knights all cheered in agreement with Arthur, but it seemed like Merlin still needed more convincing.
“But he was able to kill a whole bandit camp of two hundred men by himself! Who knows what he might do to the knights?! Is this really worth the risk of hundreds of Camelot’s best knights dying?”
Yes, Arthur thought to himself, you are absolutely worth the risk. He knew the knights agreed with that sentiment as well, as many of them would be willing to give up their lives for Merlin, but Merlin didn’t need to worry about that right now.
Instead, Arthur tried to comfort Merlin. He was the bravest man Arthur knew, and never backed down from danger if it meant helping someone else. Of course Merlin would want to sacrifice himself to potentially save the lives of hundreds of knights, that was just who he was, it was a part of his nature.
But Arthur knew that it must be a terrifying situation from Merlin’s perspective. To give himself up to a sorcerous monster wearing Arthur’s face for the rest of his life? That was a horrifying fate to consider. If it were any other man, he would be trying to find any way possible to find a way out of this situation, but not Merlin.
“Look, I know that this must be rather frightening for you, Merlin, but we’ll fight back, and we will prevail. You don’t have to worry, everything will turn out alright, you’ll see.”
Merlin gave Arthur a small smile, but it wasn’t convincing either of them.
“I miss you. I can’t wait to see you again. We’ll make so many happy memories together this time, I promise. Just wait for me, please.”
Upon their return to the castle, their group was met with loud cheers as the residents of the castle realized that Merlin had been rescued safely. Gaius and Guinevere were waiting at the steps, their faces lit up with joy at the sight of Merlin home in one piece. While they both hugged Merlin and he reassured them that he was alright, Arthur stormed through the castle towards the war council. He had sent word to assemble the council as soon as he had returned, and there was no time to waste.
After all, they only had three days to prepare themselves to defend the entire city from the wrath of a furious sorcerer.
As soon as the door shut behind the last council member, Arthur got to work catching all of the wartime advisors up on what had happened, only omitting details when absolutely necessary. The knights that hadn’t been a part of the search party predictably looked horrified at Arthur’s description of a sorcerous version of himself driven mad by magic and grief. Thankfully, Arthur’s war council was efficient and good at its job, having much practice from having to defend the city against Morgana multiple times.
Preparations for battle were underway as soon as the council meeting ended. New guard rotations were drawn up, knights on reserve were called back to the citadel, and the armory was being thoroughly checked through for both the quantity of armor and weapons and the quality of their materials.
Arthur spent all day in meetings, issuing orders and organizing the logistics of the upcoming battle. There wasn’t a moment to rest, not when such a deadly enemy was on the horizon.
Arthur’s work continued long into the evening hours, seeing him at his desk pouring over paperwork, military orders, updates from high ranking knights, maps, plans of attack, and more. There wasn’t a moment to waste, and Arthur wasn’t going to take any risks.
Arthur occasionally had to lean back and close his eyes, giving them a break from reading in the flickering candlelight. Arthur’s hand drifted down to the hilt of his sword, still strapped to his hip and ready for the battle ahead. He drummed his fingers along the hilt, getting some comfort out of the familiar motion.
He was only brought out of his musings over the upcoming battle by Merlin entering the room with a dinner tray in his hands. Merlin gave him a small, reassuring smile as he kicked the door closed behind him, but Arthur couldn’t muster up the energy to give him one in return.
Merlin set the tray down softly and took some of the papers off of Arthur’s desk, putting them to the side. When Arthur opened his mouth to protest, Merlin cut him off with a soft voice.
“You need to eat and rest, Arthur. You’ll be no use to anyone tomorrow if you’re too busy being grumpy because you’re tired and hungry. Now, eat, and I’ll get your bed prepared for you.”
Arthur just sighed and complied, willing to admit to himself that Merlin possibly had a fair point. He watched as Merlin silently folded sheets and fluffed his pillows, not wanting to consider if this was one of the last times he would see Merlin going about their little evening routine.
As Merlin finished his chores and Arthur finished his dinner, Merlin turned back towards Arthur, looking strangely apologetic. Before Arthur could ask him what was wrong, as there were plenty of things that could be, understandably, upsetting Merlin at the moment, Merlin started speaking.
“Arthur, I know that you want me to stay here with you, and I want that too, more than anything. I appreciate all that you’re doing to try and keep me safe, but I couldn’t live with myself if people got hurt, if people died, all because I was selfish enough to stay here. I’m very sorry, but I think I should go with the other Arthur. Who knows how many lives would be spared if I just gave into his demand? I don’t want to see anyone get hurt for my sake alone.”
The dinner that Arthur had just eaten weighed heavily in his stomach, like someone had just dropped a stone straight through him. Arthur always loved Merlin’s conviction, his steadfast adherence to doing what was right. It had become Arthur’s moral compass, the thing that guided him through the dark nights of uncertainty. If Merlin agreed with Arthur’s decision, then it meant that Arthur had made the right one.
But here? Arthur didn’t want to make the right decision, he wanted– he needed– to keep Merlin by his side. But Arthur couldn"t refuse him outright, not right now. How was he supposed to look the man he loves in the eyes and tell him that Arthur was fully prepared to trade his kingdom just to keep him by his side?
“Let’s not speak any more of this tonight, Merlin. There’s still preparations to be done tomorrow. We can discuss more on this later, I promise.”
Merlin wore a slight frown, but nodded his head, looking determined to hold Arthur to that promise.
The next day went by quickly in the same manner as the first, with Arthur devoting all of his time and energy to preparing Camelot’s defenses for attack, and that night, Merlin again brought up the possible solution of giving Merlin up to that sorcerer, but Arthur managed to divert him once more.
(Faced with the very real possibility of losing Merlin, Arthur ached to tell him of his true feelings, but how could he confess to Merlin that he’d loved him for years at a time like this?)
Finally, in the late afternoon of the third day, Camelot’s defenses were ready. Soldiers, calvary, bowmen, artillery, and more all stood at the ready, prepared to battle for their lives against this threat to their home. As Arthur made his final preparation checks, he traveled down into the dungeon, telling Merlin that they had to check to see if the secret passageways were well-fortified. After all, Arthur knew all of those passageways, so their enemy would as well.
Merlin followed him through the dungeon as they checked on the secret passageways, confirming that they were well-defended and ready to fend off an attack from there if need be. On their way out of the dungeons, however, Arthur abruptly stopped in front of one of the furnished cells, keeping his eyes downcast.
“Arthur, what are you doing? We have to get back out to the fortification walls to check on the archers!”
Arthur said nothing in response, he only pulled a set of keys off of his belt and unlocked the door to the cell, opening the cell door slowly with the aging metal giving a shrill creak at the motion.
“Arthur? What’s going on?”
Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, trying to get Arthur to turn around and face him. Ever so slowly, Arthur turned around and lifted his head, and Merlin looked surprised to see tears gathered in his eyes, on the verge of falling.
Before Merlin can ask what was wrong, Arthur suddenly pulled Merlin into a crushing hug, burying his face in Merlin’s hair and weeping openly. Through his sobs, he let Merlin hear quiet, almost whispered words, repeated over and over again.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”
Merlin sighed and relaxed somewhat, probably thinking that Arthur has finally seen Merlin’s logic and has agreed to let Merlin go with the sorcerous Arthur, and that this must be how Arthur was saying goodbye.
With tears gathering in his own eyes at this farewell, Merlin hugged Arthur back.
“It’s alright, Arthur. I understand. Camelot comes first. I’ll always cherish our years together, and I wouldn’t have done a single thing differently. You’ve become the great king I always knew you could be, and I know that Camelot will prosper under your rule. Just try not to hire a bootlicker to replace me when I’m gone, yeah?”
Instead of laughing at his little joke as Merlin expected, Arthur only sobbed harder at Merlin’s words, causing Merlin’s concern to rise. Arthur finally then pulled back and looked Merlin in the eyes, the tears making his eyes look bloodshot and disconcertingly similar to his sorcerous counterpart’s wild eyes.
Arthur brought his hands up to gently cradle Merlin’s face, his voice wavering.
“No, I’m sorry that I’m not the man you think I am. I’m no better than that other version of me that’s threatening us. No, Merlin, I’m sorry for this.”
“Arthur, what are you–”
With that, Arthur abruptly shoved Merlin backwards into the cell and slamed the door shut in his face, locking it before Merlin could even get another word out. Merlin just stared at Arthur through the cell’s bars, unable to process what had just happened for several seconds before he launched himself at the bars, reaching for Arthur and yelling at him not to leave, not to face that other version of him, not to march toward his death for Merlin’s sake.
But Arthur turns around and leaves, ignoring Merlin calling out after him. Just to himself, he whispers one final confession.
“I’m sorry that I can’t let you go.”
Arthur walked back out and prepared himself for the battle, bracing himself for what was to come. He stood at the front of the army guarding the gates to the city, ready to defend his home to his dying breath. He grabbed his sword’s hilt and unsheathed it, prepared to face the evils of sorcery with a weapon in his hand and a fire in his eyes.
Finally, as the last slip of the sun disappeared from over the horizon, the winds around Camelot picked up, starting as a breeze, but soon growing into a howling gale that had the archers trying and failing to protect their eyes from the biting sting of the wind that rendered all of their arrows useless.
And there in the distance, outlined by the dying rays of the sun’s light, he stood. He wore no armor, and held no weapon, but he wielded something far worse than a blade.
The earth trembled as he walked, the ground shaking with his every step. Their horses began bucking wildly, spooked by the rumbling under their feet and throwing off their riders, sending the calvary into chaos and the entire army into disarray.
Arthur drew in a deep breath, looked into his own eyes, and charged forward with a sword in hand.