Post by Arctura on Jul 20, 2014 2:25:23 GMT
Left you guys on a cliffie, didn't I? Hehe.
And the story is about to pick up now. Get ready...
He wants to intervene, he really does. But he remembers what he learned in Camelot. There was a man who was seizing, and when he tried to touch him, it only aggravated the man’s condition. Arthur thinks this is a similar situation, so he waits. Waits until Merlin calms down from what appears to be a nightmare.
“That’s it. You’re okay now.” Arthur says, rubbing the warlock’s shoulders gently. Eventually, the trembling stops and Merlin’s breathing evens out. He looks back up again.
“Thanks,” he whispers quietly.
“Merlin…what happened?”
Merlin shakes his head. “I should have told you, I really should have. You see, ever since around the time of Camelot’s fall, I’ve had the ability to hear the Triple Goddess. It’s strange, because up until then, I’ve never had such direct contact with Fate. My knowledge of prophecies was always through Kilgarrah, the dragon I spoke to you about, or the Disir. Basically, just now I’ve received revelation; I haven’t heard anything since the 14th century, but I remember they were usually just advice and warnings. This time, it..it was a threat. I’ll get to that in a moment, but what did you hear me say? I’m aware that most of my screams were probably unintelligible.”
Arthur recollects himself. It is beyond worrying to him that Merlin has to carry such a burden. “Well, you..were speaking, or rather crying out, mostly in the Old Tongue, but I caught a few things. You were talking about how you didn’t know something, and it wasn’t your fault. Something to do with destiny...and the Moirai? I don’t know what the means…”
“The Moirai is the name of the Triple Goddess. Not many knew it, but the Greeks did long ago. And of course, the druid tribes and the High Priestess, for they followed the Old Religion. The Moirai are three deities who decide and seal the fate of every person. Often, they are referred to as a single entity, hence the Triple Goddess. She is the one who decided our destiny, Arthur. It would be wise not to disobey her, and I suppose that’s what I did. Unintentionally. Apparently, I was being punished for not hunting down the cause of you being brought back. I was going to start my research soon, but I guess I got so caught up in your return…”
“She sounds like a mad old hag!” Arthur says, livid, “It wasn’t your fault, Merlin. We needed time to catch up, and I have to assimilate to this..new world. If I have to save the Earth, shouldn’t I have to understand it, first? And, can she not just tell you what the threat is? Why all the vagueness?”
Merlin had to admit, Arthur had a point. “I know it’s not really my fault, but she’s sort of right. We can’t keep lazing around. I can teach you during our travels, so we can save time. And, Arthur, if you haven’t noticed, the higher powers enjoy screwing us around. I have no doubt that she knows the reason for your resurrection. It’s just the source of their sick pleasure.”
“Okay, but how do we start? Do you have any idea at all what we’re up against?”
“Nope.”
“Just great, Merlin. Wonderful.” the King says mockingly. As if on cue, they both fall down on the bed, loudly exhaling. It is going to be a very long day.
...
“You really think we’ll find answers in these glass caves?” Arthur asks, no longer wearing his chainmail and armor, but a simple tunic. He still carries his faithful Excalibur and his mother’s sigil on chain, needing a reminder every so often.
“Crystal Caves. And yes. Or at least…I hope so.”
“Have you been to these caves before?”
“Many times. The first time I was brought there was by a seer named Taliesen. I went there a lot in the last few centuries. I go when I need guidance.” Merlin doesn’t expand on what “guidance” means, and Arthur doesn’t push him. “Especially after you…after you died.”
Arthur marvels over how, even now that he’s alive again, Merlin still hesitates every time he talks about Arthur being dead.
“And then before you died. Before the battle at Camlann. Morgana took away my magic. I had to leave you to get it back. It turns out I couldn’t lose it anyway with me being the essence of magic.”
Arthur stops walking. “So that’s why you couldn’t come with me? You really did need to obtain vital supplies?”
Merlin smiles. “Yes. I would never have left you for anything else.”
“I knew it,” Arthur says quietly, and a thoughtful look crosses his face. “I mean, I didn’t know why you left, but I always sensed something was…off. Merlin….” He gazes at Merlin, and he looks touched and awed at the same time. "I always knew you were the bravest of us all. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“It’s alright.” Merlin smiles reassuringly and takes a step closer to Arthur. “I couldn’t blame you for feeling hurt. I just wish I could have told you more. I regretted having to keep secrets from you. I never liked hiding who I really was. I just never wanted to make you choose between upholding the law and saving my life.”
“You didn’t want to put me in that position.”
“Yeah,” Merlin says with a laugh. “You actually remember me saying that?”
“Of course I do, Merlin." Arthur says, almost insulted. Then he remembers something. “Merlin...that dream I had, when you told me about the hidden path. Was that…was that real?”
“The cave is magic, Arthur. I used the crystals to see Morgana’s plans, and then I used them to find you.”
“So it wasn’t a dream?”
“No.”
Arthur laughs. “I knew it wasn't a dream. It didn’t feel like one. It felt…more real. Deep down inside, I knew it was really you. You were giving me advice just like you always do, and I listened without question. You saved us all that night, Merlin.”
“Glad I could help,” he says sincerely, vaguely recalling another time he said those words and didn't mean them in the slightest.
Arthur pulls him into a sideways hug, and with one arm still draped over his shoulder he lets Merlin lead them on to the caves.
...
“We’re here,” Merlin finally announces and stops outside the cave. Instantly, he’s flooded with memories. Visiting the caves for the first time and seeing into the future against his will. Foiling Morgana’s plans by talking to Arthur in his sleep. Wanting to see his father after Arthur’s death, needing his advice. Returning to find help in saving Camelot. Wanting to see Kilgharrah again. Missing Matthew.
He’s visited the caves dozens of times over the years, seeking solitude, answers, guidance. He’s received help from the crystals themselves, in the visions they show him, though he’s always been wary of relying on the messages they bring. He’s received help from his father, from a few magical friends he's made through the years, and from Kilgharrah.
“I don’t know for sure if I’ll find answers,” Merlin says. "But I’ve found them answers in the past. Hopefully I can find them again.”
Arthur nods. “Do I…can I come in with you?”
Merlin’s never brought anyone into the caves, never had a reason to, but deep down he knows the answer to the question anyway. “No. Sorry, but this is something I have to do alone.”
“Right. Mysterious sorcery business. Got it.”
Merlin laughs. “Exactly.” Steeling himself, he walks away from Arthur and enters the cave.
...
It turns out, Merlin needn’t have worried. The crystals light his path to the farthest depths of the cave, and there, Merlin finds Kilgharrah waiting for him. It’s not really him, of course. More like a ghost, or an imprint. A manifestation of the magic that flows through Merlin’s veins and courses through the fabric of the world. He’s blue, not gold, and he lies on the ground, head on his front paws.
Merlin kicks a stone aside as he enters the chamber, and the Great Dragon stirs.
“Young warlock. I am glad to see you.”
Merlin laughs. “I’m over 2000, old friend. When will you ever stop calling me ‘young’?”
“Merlin, to me you will always be the small, naïve boy who entered my prison all those years ago."
“Thanks,” Merlin answers dryly. “I suppose you know why I have come?”
“I am here for the same reasons as you. A stirring deep in the Earth has brought me out of slumber. Something I have not felt since before the dawn of man. Something-”
“Evil,” Merlin answers without thinking, and he shivers involuntarily at the memory of waking that morning.
Kilgharrah nods. “I am here to help you, Merlin. To help everyone.”
“What is this…thing? Why is it here? And why now?”
“I cannot answer all of your questions, Merlin. Some things cannot be easily explained.”
“Two thousand years and you still speak in riddles,” Merlin quips, rolling his eyes. “Just tell me what you can.”
“The force that has arisen has no name, for man has never given it one. It is magic, Merlin, but it is evil. Think of it as the dark to your light. Every element that makes up this world has a dark side and a light side. It is how everything keeps in balance. Magic is no different. You are the epitome of all that is good about magic: courage, kindness, faith. You use your magic to heal, to care for others, and to fight for what is right. Evil has always existed in this world, Merlin. You’ve seen it first hand. But this…this is like nothing you’ve ever seen, or ever will.”
“I think I need to sit down,” Merlin whispers, but he can’t sit down because his legs have frozen in place. The air in the cave suddenly feels much colder than it did when he first entered.
“This creature is a malevolence born from the darkness in the world, made stronger by the growing evil in man’s heart. Many thousands of years ago, before men ruled the world, the dragons saw a great evil rising. They sought to destroy it, and found that it was too powerful. So they banded together and used what magic they could to cast it deep into the Earth. They placed a powerful spell on it, forcing it to slumber. But the dragons knew it could not stay buried forever. Instead it slept and it fed. It fed on greed, jealousy, and dark intentions. It fed on the darkness in man’s heart...and it grew stronger. The past two hundred years have been good to it.”
Merlin’s heart beats faster, and he knows without a doubt that everything Kilgharrah has said is true. “The last war. That’s made it powerful enough to break your spell. And now it’s come back to…what does it want?” Merlin asks the question, yet he already knows the answer.
“It feeds off of death and destruction, Merlin. It has no agenda. No real purpose but to destroy everything that is good in this world, until there is nothing left but evil. It is darkness personified. It is your destiny, and it is your doom.”
The warlock turns away, the weight of what is happening too much for him to bear. He knows without a doubt that this thing is pure evil, and that it seeks to destroy the world. Deep down, Merlin already knew everything that Kilgharrah has told him. He knew it from the second that thing crawled out of the Earth.
It hits him like a freight train. Something he should have figured out already; something he has been trying desperately to deny. “This is why Arthur’s back. To fight this…this thing. But how can he…how do you fight Evil, Kilgharrah? How can he fight something that doesn’t even have a form? How can he possibly-”
“He won’t be fighting it alone, young warlock. Surely you understand that.”
He smiles at Merlin knowingly, and Merlin sighs. Of course.
“We’ll fight it together. Like we always have.” He puts a slight mocking emphasis on “always”.
Kilgharrah nods. “Two sides of the same coin. You need each other, Merlin. The world needs you.”
“Of course it does,” Merlin replies bitterly. He turns away, runs his hands through his hair. Then without warning, he picks up a rock and hurls it as hard as he can at the wall and screams. “Four days! Arthur’s only been back for four days. We only just….” Merlin blushes at the memory of last night, and while he won’t share intimate details, he realizes there’s no point in beating around the bush. “We’re finally together. We were going to…two thousand years! He just got back, Kilgharrah. It’s not…it’s not….”
And he can’t get it out, because he knows what Kilgharrah will say. Life is not meant to be fair. But then the Great Dragon surprises him.
“No, Merlin. It is not fair. And I am sorry. I truly am.” Kilgharrah bows his head, and Merlin watches in shock as a single tear falls down the dragon’s face. “I wish it wasn’t so, young warlock. For your sake, and for Arthur’s.”
Merlin turns away and puts his hand on his forehead. He chokes down the lump he feels rising in his throat, fights back the tears, breathes deeply.
“The world needs you and Arthur once more, now more than ever. There’s no other way.”
Merlin turns to the dragon sharply, and he realizes his decision was made long before he set foot in the cave. Maybe even before they left the cottage this morning. “No, we don’t.”
After a while, Merlin asks, “How do we find this thing?”
“That is a question I cannot answer. But I do know someone who can help you.”
...
Merlin emerges from the cave after what feels like only half an hour to find that the sun is sinking low in the sky and Arthur is pacing frantically.
“Arthur.”
Arthur’s head jerks up at the sound of Merlin’s voice. “Thank God. I was worried sick, Merlin. I had no idea if…what’s wrong?”
He looks at Arthur, and there’s so much concern and love in his eyes that for a split second Merlin considers lying. Telling him that there’s nothing to worry about, that there’s nothing to be done, that someone else will take care of it. But he knows before the thought is even finished that he’ll never do that.
“We have another journey ahead of us, Arthur.”
...
On the way back to the cottage, Merlin tells Arthur what happened in the caves - what Kilgharrah said about where the creature comes from and what it is.
“This…thing. Does it have a name?” Arthur inquires thoughtfully.
Merlin shakes his head. “No one was around last time to give it one. I guess we'll have to. A creature that's pure evil. I guess...if I was going to call it anything...” Merlin stops walking and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, his eyes glow gold. “Malus.”
The word comes out in Merlin’s voice, but the tone is all wrong. Without warning, the ground trembles under their feet. It quakes briefly, but deeply, and Arthur feels it in his bones. He shudders as his blood runs cold and the birds in the trees take off.
“Merlin, what the hell-”
“It likes it. It likes Its new name.”
The sky grows dark as clouds scurry across it to hide the sun faster than Arthur can believe. The animals of the forest take off in all directions.
Merlin’s eyes still glow gold, and though he’s talking in his own voice, Arthur senses that he is not speaking the words of his own free will. He speaks slowly and distantly, like he’s in a trance.
“Merlin, what’s happening?” Arthur asks, and he can’t veil the fear in his voice.
“It likes having a name. It makes It feel powerful.” Thunder rumbles in the sky, and the hair on the back of Arthur’s neck stands up.
“Merlin, you’re scaring me. Snap out of it.”
Arthur wants to move toward Merlin, but it feels like his feet are glued to the ground.
“It can smell your fear, Arthur Pendragon.”
Rain starts to fall, and Arthur shivers. “Merlin, please,” Arthur begs.
“It’s going to tear the world apart. And there is nothing you can do to stop It.” Lightning strikes a tree not ten feet from where they stand, and Arthur feels like he can move again.
“Merlin, stop it!” He crosses the space between them and puts his hands on Merlin’s shoulders. “I order you to stop it! Stop it, now!"
Perhaps it's the commanding tone that does the trick. Merlin looks at him, unblinking, but then the rain ends, and the thunder stops rumbling. The darkness slips from the sky and the clouds move away and the sun shines once more. Merlin’s eyes return to their normal blue.
“Arthur…why are we all wet?”
Arthur feels his legs give out from under him, and he hits the ground, dragging Merlin down with him. “Arthur? Arthur, what’s going on?”
Arthur’s shaking violently now. He thought he was terrified this morning, but this? This is something entirely worse.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Merlin says with concern, and he puts his hands on either side of Arthur’s face and forces him to look up.
Possessed. There’s no other word for it. Merlin was talking, and it was his voice, but the words weren’t his. This evil thing used Merlin to speak Its words like it was nothing. Like Merlin was Its puppet, each movement the pull of marionette strings.
When he can speak again, his voice shakes. “‘Malus.’ You called It ‘Malus.’ And It liked it.”
Merlin explains on the walk back that it didn’t really feel like he was being possessed, which in Arthur’s opinion just makes everything worse, because does Merlin actually know what it’s like to be possessed, and isn’t the first sign of possession that you don’t know it’s happening? Arthur can't even believe they're talking about possession right now.
And then Merlin answers that yes, he has been possessed before. And he’s known it. He’s snapped out of it and remembered what happened.
“This was nothing like that. It didn’t possess me, Arthur. I promise.”
“Fine, It didn’t possess you. But that still doesn’t explain why the ground shook and the sky went dark and lightning struck a tree!”
“Arthur....”
In the end, Merlin apologizes, as though it’s his fault, and Arthur tells him it’s okay. It’s the first time Arthur’s lied to Merlin since returning four days ago.
…
That night, over a dinner of squirrel and berries, Merlin explains where they have to go.
“Kilgharrah mentioned a seer – a prophetess – that we need to find. She’s the last of her kind. She doesn’t have magic, not the way I do, but she can see the future. And she’ll know how we can communicate with…Malus.”
Merlin says the name quickly, and they flinch in unison, prepared for the worst. But the ground stays still, and they both let out a sigh, grateful that they now have a way of referring to the creature that doesn’t put Merlin in a trance or send the forest animals running for the hills.
“Where can we find this seer?”
“She lives in a small forest community near the lake of Windermere. It should take us about a week to get there. Kilgharrah gave me detailed directions. I should be able to find it.”
“So, we leave in the morning?” Arthur asks.
“That would be ideal.”
Arthur sighs. Two thousand years and nothing’s changed: he and Merlin are off on another quest.
…
They sleep in the next morning. What’s the rush? It is not like they have appearances to keep up anymore. When they wake, Merlin and Arthur pack up what little food the have left with the clothes they’ve collected. Merlin explains that, since money is useless now, clothes are a good item to have in a world where people trade with others for what they need. Their extra clothes may buy them vegetables or bread from a farmer in need of a good jacket or a pair of strong shoes. He even suggests they raid the village they slept in on their way to Camelot for more.
Arthur takes the book of Dr. Seuss stories. Merlin questions it at first, but Arthur is adamant about it, so Merlin strengthens the spell that preserves it and lets him pack it in his satchel. The two of them gather up Arthur’s armor, and Arthur straps Excalibur onto his belt.
“There’s just one thing we need to do before we go,” Arthur says quietly.
An hour later, Arthur’s armor and chainmail lie at the base of the tree in the throne room of Camelot. The two of them place the pieces down reverently, arranging them neatly, as though any moment Arthur will need to put them on.
“There,” Arthur says, smiling fondly. “Now they are right where they belong.”
“Home,” Merlin finishes for him, and Arthur nods.
“Home.”
They stand quietly for a moment, gazing at the sight of Arthur’s armor and cloak decorating the great tree. But there’s one piece left.
“Arthur, what about the sword?”
Arthur glances down at the golden sword he now holds in his hand, not even sure when he took it out of his belt. “Yes. About the sword….”
“Yes?” Merlin prompts. The tone of Arthur’s voice suggests he wants answers, but that he’s almost too afraid to ask the questions.
“Was this sword really stuck in that stone, Merlin?”
“Well….”
“And you told Morgana that it was forged in a dragon’s breath.”
“Well…the thing is….”
Merlin hesitates, not sure what to say. But then Arthur turns to him, eyes questioning, and it all comes spilling out. “First of all, the sword’s name is Excalibur.”
And then Merlin tells Arthur everything. How Excalibur was meant for Arthur and no one else. How he took the best sword that Gwen’s father had and asked Kilgharah to enchant it. How he had to throw it in the lake to keep it from Uther. How he used it to defeat Morgana's undead army, then placed it in the stone so it would be ready when Arthur needed it. He finishes up with how he threw it in the Lake of Avalon after Arthur's death so that no one else would be able to use it.
When he’s done, Arthur looks down at the weapon in his hand and laughs. “I always knew there was something special about this sword. Well, beyond the fact that I had to pull it out of a stone, at any rate.”
Merlin smiles. “That sword’s been through a lot, Arthur. It has quite a history.”
“Yes, it does. Thanks to you.”
Merlin shakes his head. “It’s your sword, Arthur. It always has been. I’ve just…borrowed it a few times.”
“Merlin, it’s thanks to you that I even have this sword. It’s thanks to you that I lived long enough to use it; to appreciate it for what it really is. It’s not just my sword, Merlin. In a way…it’s ours.”
Merlin laughs. “Whatever you say, sire,” he says jokingly.
“I mean it, Merlin," Arthur responds in all seriousness. "This sword is…it’s like a part of us. Your magic, my courage. It’s a symbol. It means….” Arthur pauses, at a loss, but then, finally, Merlin thinks he knows what Arthur is getting at.
“We fight together. We always have, Arthur, and we always will.”
The king seems lost in thought, and Merlin knows what he’s considering: whether or not to keep the sword. Leave it in the throne room or take it on the road.
“I know that you’ll say that Excalibur belongs here and that I don’t need it out there - the world is different than the one I left. I know that. But...other than my mother’s sigil, it really is my last piece of home. It’s not just some keepsake that reminds me of all the battles I’ve fought, Merlin. From a very young age, we’re taught that the sword is an extension of ourselves, our being. I’ve almost never been apart from my sword, and Excalibur...it’s something special, like you said. Think of it as your magic. How would you feel if it was taken away from you?” He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “I know I won’t get to use it that often, but it would do me a great service if I could keep it with me.”
“I would hate it,” the warlock admitted, “If it means this much to you, of course. I just think it would encumber you to carry it along the way.”
“I’ll manage. After years of wielding it, it’s honestly dead weight.”
Merlin nods and casts a charm that makes the sword invisible to all but them. It will not do to raise suspicion. “If that’s it, let’s go.” Arthur follows him from the throne room as they begin their long journey.
...
They don’t get far their first day, what with their late start and their detour into the city. They sleep under the stars, wrapped up in blankets Merlin took from the cottage.
Merlin wakes once in the middle of the night, shivering violently, but Arthur mumbles in his sleep and pulls him closer, and he settles back down, blaming it on the chill in the air.
Even when he knows it’s Malus.
...
The next afternoon, they pass by the village they slept in a few nights ago, and they raid it for as many clothes as they can carry on top of their own packs, carefully choosing the warmest, best made jackets, sweaters, and boots, knowing the weather will only get colder as Autumn really settles in.
In one of the houses, Arthur picks up a book. Merlin sees the title, “Le Petit Prince,” as Arthur slides it into his bag. He catches Merlin looking at him.
“What?” he asks defensively. “I like the pictures.”
Merlin just smiles.
…
From the village, Merlin turns them north. They stop for lunch. Excalibur in hand, Arthur heads into the woods to kill a couple of rabbits while Merlin gathers what food he can find. They eat a rabbit and a handful of nuts between the two of them, saving the other rabbit for later.
Later on, as the sun begins to set, they see their first signs of civilization. They pass by wheat fields, then a small orchard, followed by a decently sized garden.
"I've been here before, a long time ago," Merlin says as they approach the outskirts of a large village. "The people here are helpful, but wary. You should let me do the talking."
"That's probably our only option, Merlin, considering I won't be able to understand anyone," Arthur says bitterly. "You forget I don't speak the language."
Merlin laughs.
"Of course." He had fallen into their old language so easily, he'd forgotten that Arthur wouldn't understand Modern English. "But that's an easy fix."
He places his hand on Arthur's forehead. Merlin's eyes glow, and Arthur closes his eyes as a strange but warm magic flows through him.
"How's that? Can you understand me?"
And while Arthur knows that Merlin is speaking a language he shouldn't be able to comprehend, he understands him just fine.
"Yes. Yes, I do," Arthur says easily, even though the words he speaks feel foreign on his tongue. He ponders this new development, and soon his face lights up with realization. “Does this mean I'll be able to read your books on my own?"
"Mhm. It'll probably feel weird at first, but after awhile the new language will feel as natural as our old one."
"Will you read the books to me anyway?" Arthur blurts out. The embarrassment creeps up on him, and he quickly amends, "I mean, it's just...."
Merlin raises an eyebrow in an eerie representation of Gaius and makes Arthur want to throttle him. "If you want me to, of course I will," the warlock replies, smug.
“God, I’m such a girl’s petticoat.” Arthur mumbles, but Merlin hears.
“I prefer dollophead.”
“Oh, shut up, Merlin. Or I’ll put you in the stocks and feed you to the dogs.”
And Merlin can’t help but pointing out, “But Sire, how will you do so if there aren’t any stocks?”
“I’ll give you a three second head start.”
“For what?” Merlin asks, confused.
Arthur says, grinning wickedly, “To start running.”
And the story is about to pick up now. Get ready...
As the World Comes to an End: Part II
Arthur wakes to a bloodcurdling scream. He tries to make sense of Merlin’s cries, but all he can decipher are “Moirai”, “I didn’t know”, and “destiny”. The rest of it seems to be in what Merlin calls the Old Tongue. He wants to intervene, he really does. But he remembers what he learned in Camelot. There was a man who was seizing, and when he tried to touch him, it only aggravated the man’s condition. Arthur thinks this is a similar situation, so he waits. Waits until Merlin calms down from what appears to be a nightmare.
“That’s it. You’re okay now.” Arthur says, rubbing the warlock’s shoulders gently. Eventually, the trembling stops and Merlin’s breathing evens out. He looks back up again.
“Thanks,” he whispers quietly.
“Merlin…what happened?”
Merlin shakes his head. “I should have told you, I really should have. You see, ever since around the time of Camelot’s fall, I’ve had the ability to hear the Triple Goddess. It’s strange, because up until then, I’ve never had such direct contact with Fate. My knowledge of prophecies was always through Kilgarrah, the dragon I spoke to you about, or the Disir. Basically, just now I’ve received revelation; I haven’t heard anything since the 14th century, but I remember they were usually just advice and warnings. This time, it..it was a threat. I’ll get to that in a moment, but what did you hear me say? I’m aware that most of my screams were probably unintelligible.”
Arthur recollects himself. It is beyond worrying to him that Merlin has to carry such a burden. “Well, you..were speaking, or rather crying out, mostly in the Old Tongue, but I caught a few things. You were talking about how you didn’t know something, and it wasn’t your fault. Something to do with destiny...and the Moirai? I don’t know what the means…”
“The Moirai is the name of the Triple Goddess. Not many knew it, but the Greeks did long ago. And of course, the druid tribes and the High Priestess, for they followed the Old Religion. The Moirai are three deities who decide and seal the fate of every person. Often, they are referred to as a single entity, hence the Triple Goddess. She is the one who decided our destiny, Arthur. It would be wise not to disobey her, and I suppose that’s what I did. Unintentionally. Apparently, I was being punished for not hunting down the cause of you being brought back. I was going to start my research soon, but I guess I got so caught up in your return…”
“She sounds like a mad old hag!” Arthur says, livid, “It wasn’t your fault, Merlin. We needed time to catch up, and I have to assimilate to this..new world. If I have to save the Earth, shouldn’t I have to understand it, first? And, can she not just tell you what the threat is? Why all the vagueness?”
Merlin had to admit, Arthur had a point. “I know it’s not really my fault, but she’s sort of right. We can’t keep lazing around. I can teach you during our travels, so we can save time. And, Arthur, if you haven’t noticed, the higher powers enjoy screwing us around. I have no doubt that she knows the reason for your resurrection. It’s just the source of their sick pleasure.”
“Okay, but how do we start? Do you have any idea at all what we’re up against?”
“Nope.”
“Just great, Merlin. Wonderful.” the King says mockingly. As if on cue, they both fall down on the bed, loudly exhaling. It is going to be a very long day.
...
“You really think we’ll find answers in these glass caves?” Arthur asks, no longer wearing his chainmail and armor, but a simple tunic. He still carries his faithful Excalibur and his mother’s sigil on chain, needing a reminder every so often.
“Crystal Caves. And yes. Or at least…I hope so.”
“Have you been to these caves before?”
“Many times. The first time I was brought there was by a seer named Taliesen. I went there a lot in the last few centuries. I go when I need guidance.” Merlin doesn’t expand on what “guidance” means, and Arthur doesn’t push him. “Especially after you…after you died.”
Arthur marvels over how, even now that he’s alive again, Merlin still hesitates every time he talks about Arthur being dead.
“And then before you died. Before the battle at Camlann. Morgana took away my magic. I had to leave you to get it back. It turns out I couldn’t lose it anyway with me being the essence of magic.”
Arthur stops walking. “So that’s why you couldn’t come with me? You really did need to obtain vital supplies?”
Merlin smiles. “Yes. I would never have left you for anything else.”
“I knew it,” Arthur says quietly, and a thoughtful look crosses his face. “I mean, I didn’t know why you left, but I always sensed something was…off. Merlin….” He gazes at Merlin, and he looks touched and awed at the same time. "I always knew you were the bravest of us all. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“It’s alright.” Merlin smiles reassuringly and takes a step closer to Arthur. “I couldn’t blame you for feeling hurt. I just wish I could have told you more. I regretted having to keep secrets from you. I never liked hiding who I really was. I just never wanted to make you choose between upholding the law and saving my life.”
“You didn’t want to put me in that position.”
“Yeah,” Merlin says with a laugh. “You actually remember me saying that?”
“Of course I do, Merlin." Arthur says, almost insulted. Then he remembers something. “Merlin...that dream I had, when you told me about the hidden path. Was that…was that real?”
“The cave is magic, Arthur. I used the crystals to see Morgana’s plans, and then I used them to find you.”
“So it wasn’t a dream?”
“No.”
Arthur laughs. “I knew it wasn't a dream. It didn’t feel like one. It felt…more real. Deep down inside, I knew it was really you. You were giving me advice just like you always do, and I listened without question. You saved us all that night, Merlin.”
“Glad I could help,” he says sincerely, vaguely recalling another time he said those words and didn't mean them in the slightest.
Arthur pulls him into a sideways hug, and with one arm still draped over his shoulder he lets Merlin lead them on to the caves.
...
“We’re here,” Merlin finally announces and stops outside the cave. Instantly, he’s flooded with memories. Visiting the caves for the first time and seeing into the future against his will. Foiling Morgana’s plans by talking to Arthur in his sleep. Wanting to see his father after Arthur’s death, needing his advice. Returning to find help in saving Camelot. Wanting to see Kilgharrah again. Missing Matthew.
He’s visited the caves dozens of times over the years, seeking solitude, answers, guidance. He’s received help from the crystals themselves, in the visions they show him, though he’s always been wary of relying on the messages they bring. He’s received help from his father, from a few magical friends he's made through the years, and from Kilgharrah.
“I don’t know for sure if I’ll find answers,” Merlin says. "But I’ve found them answers in the past. Hopefully I can find them again.”
Arthur nods. “Do I…can I come in with you?”
Merlin’s never brought anyone into the caves, never had a reason to, but deep down he knows the answer to the question anyway. “No. Sorry, but this is something I have to do alone.”
“Right. Mysterious sorcery business. Got it.”
Merlin laughs. “Exactly.” Steeling himself, he walks away from Arthur and enters the cave.
...
It turns out, Merlin needn’t have worried. The crystals light his path to the farthest depths of the cave, and there, Merlin finds Kilgharrah waiting for him. It’s not really him, of course. More like a ghost, or an imprint. A manifestation of the magic that flows through Merlin’s veins and courses through the fabric of the world. He’s blue, not gold, and he lies on the ground, head on his front paws.
Merlin kicks a stone aside as he enters the chamber, and the Great Dragon stirs.
“Young warlock. I am glad to see you.”
Merlin laughs. “I’m over 2000, old friend. When will you ever stop calling me ‘young’?”
“Merlin, to me you will always be the small, naïve boy who entered my prison all those years ago."
“Thanks,” Merlin answers dryly. “I suppose you know why I have come?”
“I am here for the same reasons as you. A stirring deep in the Earth has brought me out of slumber. Something I have not felt since before the dawn of man. Something-”
“Evil,” Merlin answers without thinking, and he shivers involuntarily at the memory of waking that morning.
Kilgharrah nods. “I am here to help you, Merlin. To help everyone.”
“What is this…thing? Why is it here? And why now?”
“I cannot answer all of your questions, Merlin. Some things cannot be easily explained.”
“Two thousand years and you still speak in riddles,” Merlin quips, rolling his eyes. “Just tell me what you can.”
“The force that has arisen has no name, for man has never given it one. It is magic, Merlin, but it is evil. Think of it as the dark to your light. Every element that makes up this world has a dark side and a light side. It is how everything keeps in balance. Magic is no different. You are the epitome of all that is good about magic: courage, kindness, faith. You use your magic to heal, to care for others, and to fight for what is right. Evil has always existed in this world, Merlin. You’ve seen it first hand. But this…this is like nothing you’ve ever seen, or ever will.”
“I think I need to sit down,” Merlin whispers, but he can’t sit down because his legs have frozen in place. The air in the cave suddenly feels much colder than it did when he first entered.
“This creature is a malevolence born from the darkness in the world, made stronger by the growing evil in man’s heart. Many thousands of years ago, before men ruled the world, the dragons saw a great evil rising. They sought to destroy it, and found that it was too powerful. So they banded together and used what magic they could to cast it deep into the Earth. They placed a powerful spell on it, forcing it to slumber. But the dragons knew it could not stay buried forever. Instead it slept and it fed. It fed on greed, jealousy, and dark intentions. It fed on the darkness in man’s heart...and it grew stronger. The past two hundred years have been good to it.”
Merlin’s heart beats faster, and he knows without a doubt that everything Kilgharrah has said is true. “The last war. That’s made it powerful enough to break your spell. And now it’s come back to…what does it want?” Merlin asks the question, yet he already knows the answer.
“It feeds off of death and destruction, Merlin. It has no agenda. No real purpose but to destroy everything that is good in this world, until there is nothing left but evil. It is darkness personified. It is your destiny, and it is your doom.”
The warlock turns away, the weight of what is happening too much for him to bear. He knows without a doubt that this thing is pure evil, and that it seeks to destroy the world. Deep down, Merlin already knew everything that Kilgharrah has told him. He knew it from the second that thing crawled out of the Earth.
It hits him like a freight train. Something he should have figured out already; something he has been trying desperately to deny. “This is why Arthur’s back. To fight this…this thing. But how can he…how do you fight Evil, Kilgharrah? How can he fight something that doesn’t even have a form? How can he possibly-”
“He won’t be fighting it alone, young warlock. Surely you understand that.”
He smiles at Merlin knowingly, and Merlin sighs. Of course.
“We’ll fight it together. Like we always have.” He puts a slight mocking emphasis on “always”.
Kilgharrah nods. “Two sides of the same coin. You need each other, Merlin. The world needs you.”
“Of course it does,” Merlin replies bitterly. He turns away, runs his hands through his hair. Then without warning, he picks up a rock and hurls it as hard as he can at the wall and screams. “Four days! Arthur’s only been back for four days. We only just….” Merlin blushes at the memory of last night, and while he won’t share intimate details, he realizes there’s no point in beating around the bush. “We’re finally together. We were going to…two thousand years! He just got back, Kilgharrah. It’s not…it’s not….”
And he can’t get it out, because he knows what Kilgharrah will say. Life is not meant to be fair. But then the Great Dragon surprises him.
“No, Merlin. It is not fair. And I am sorry. I truly am.” Kilgharrah bows his head, and Merlin watches in shock as a single tear falls down the dragon’s face. “I wish it wasn’t so, young warlock. For your sake, and for Arthur’s.”
Merlin turns away and puts his hand on his forehead. He chokes down the lump he feels rising in his throat, fights back the tears, breathes deeply.
“The world needs you and Arthur once more, now more than ever. There’s no other way.”
Merlin turns to the dragon sharply, and he realizes his decision was made long before he set foot in the cave. Maybe even before they left the cottage this morning. “No, we don’t.”
After a while, Merlin asks, “How do we find this thing?”
“That is a question I cannot answer. But I do know someone who can help you.”
...
Merlin emerges from the cave after what feels like only half an hour to find that the sun is sinking low in the sky and Arthur is pacing frantically.
“Arthur.”
Arthur’s head jerks up at the sound of Merlin’s voice. “Thank God. I was worried sick, Merlin. I had no idea if…what’s wrong?”
He looks at Arthur, and there’s so much concern and love in his eyes that for a split second Merlin considers lying. Telling him that there’s nothing to worry about, that there’s nothing to be done, that someone else will take care of it. But he knows before the thought is even finished that he’ll never do that.
“We have another journey ahead of us, Arthur.”
...
On the way back to the cottage, Merlin tells Arthur what happened in the caves - what Kilgharrah said about where the creature comes from and what it is.
“This…thing. Does it have a name?” Arthur inquires thoughtfully.
Merlin shakes his head. “No one was around last time to give it one. I guess we'll have to. A creature that's pure evil. I guess...if I was going to call it anything...” Merlin stops walking and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, his eyes glow gold. “Malus.”
The word comes out in Merlin’s voice, but the tone is all wrong. Without warning, the ground trembles under their feet. It quakes briefly, but deeply, and Arthur feels it in his bones. He shudders as his blood runs cold and the birds in the trees take off.
“Merlin, what the hell-”
“It likes it. It likes Its new name.”
The sky grows dark as clouds scurry across it to hide the sun faster than Arthur can believe. The animals of the forest take off in all directions.
Merlin’s eyes still glow gold, and though he’s talking in his own voice, Arthur senses that he is not speaking the words of his own free will. He speaks slowly and distantly, like he’s in a trance.
“Merlin, what’s happening?” Arthur asks, and he can’t veil the fear in his voice.
“It likes having a name. It makes It feel powerful.” Thunder rumbles in the sky, and the hair on the back of Arthur’s neck stands up.
“Merlin, you’re scaring me. Snap out of it.”
Arthur wants to move toward Merlin, but it feels like his feet are glued to the ground.
“It can smell your fear, Arthur Pendragon.”
Rain starts to fall, and Arthur shivers. “Merlin, please,” Arthur begs.
“It’s going to tear the world apart. And there is nothing you can do to stop It.” Lightning strikes a tree not ten feet from where they stand, and Arthur feels like he can move again.
“Merlin, stop it!” He crosses the space between them and puts his hands on Merlin’s shoulders. “I order you to stop it! Stop it, now!"
Perhaps it's the commanding tone that does the trick. Merlin looks at him, unblinking, but then the rain ends, and the thunder stops rumbling. The darkness slips from the sky and the clouds move away and the sun shines once more. Merlin’s eyes return to their normal blue.
“Arthur…why are we all wet?”
Arthur feels his legs give out from under him, and he hits the ground, dragging Merlin down with him. “Arthur? Arthur, what’s going on?”
Arthur’s shaking violently now. He thought he was terrified this morning, but this? This is something entirely worse.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Merlin says with concern, and he puts his hands on either side of Arthur’s face and forces him to look up.
Possessed. There’s no other word for it. Merlin was talking, and it was his voice, but the words weren’t his. This evil thing used Merlin to speak Its words like it was nothing. Like Merlin was Its puppet, each movement the pull of marionette strings.
When he can speak again, his voice shakes. “‘Malus.’ You called It ‘Malus.’ And It liked it.”
Merlin explains on the walk back that it didn’t really feel like he was being possessed, which in Arthur’s opinion just makes everything worse, because does Merlin actually know what it’s like to be possessed, and isn’t the first sign of possession that you don’t know it’s happening? Arthur can't even believe they're talking about possession right now.
And then Merlin answers that yes, he has been possessed before. And he’s known it. He’s snapped out of it and remembered what happened.
“This was nothing like that. It didn’t possess me, Arthur. I promise.”
“Fine, It didn’t possess you. But that still doesn’t explain why the ground shook and the sky went dark and lightning struck a tree!”
“Arthur....”
In the end, Merlin apologizes, as though it’s his fault, and Arthur tells him it’s okay. It’s the first time Arthur’s lied to Merlin since returning four days ago.
…
That night, over a dinner of squirrel and berries, Merlin explains where they have to go.
“Kilgharrah mentioned a seer – a prophetess – that we need to find. She’s the last of her kind. She doesn’t have magic, not the way I do, but she can see the future. And she’ll know how we can communicate with…Malus.”
Merlin says the name quickly, and they flinch in unison, prepared for the worst. But the ground stays still, and they both let out a sigh, grateful that they now have a way of referring to the creature that doesn’t put Merlin in a trance or send the forest animals running for the hills.
“Where can we find this seer?”
“She lives in a small forest community near the lake of Windermere. It should take us about a week to get there. Kilgharrah gave me detailed directions. I should be able to find it.”
“So, we leave in the morning?” Arthur asks.
“That would be ideal.”
Arthur sighs. Two thousand years and nothing’s changed: he and Merlin are off on another quest.
…
They sleep in the next morning. What’s the rush? It is not like they have appearances to keep up anymore. When they wake, Merlin and Arthur pack up what little food the have left with the clothes they’ve collected. Merlin explains that, since money is useless now, clothes are a good item to have in a world where people trade with others for what they need. Their extra clothes may buy them vegetables or bread from a farmer in need of a good jacket or a pair of strong shoes. He even suggests they raid the village they slept in on their way to Camelot for more.
Arthur takes the book of Dr. Seuss stories. Merlin questions it at first, but Arthur is adamant about it, so Merlin strengthens the spell that preserves it and lets him pack it in his satchel. The two of them gather up Arthur’s armor, and Arthur straps Excalibur onto his belt.
“There’s just one thing we need to do before we go,” Arthur says quietly.
An hour later, Arthur’s armor and chainmail lie at the base of the tree in the throne room of Camelot. The two of them place the pieces down reverently, arranging them neatly, as though any moment Arthur will need to put them on.
“There,” Arthur says, smiling fondly. “Now they are right where they belong.”
“Home,” Merlin finishes for him, and Arthur nods.
“Home.”
They stand quietly for a moment, gazing at the sight of Arthur’s armor and cloak decorating the great tree. But there’s one piece left.
“Arthur, what about the sword?”
Arthur glances down at the golden sword he now holds in his hand, not even sure when he took it out of his belt. “Yes. About the sword….”
“Yes?” Merlin prompts. The tone of Arthur’s voice suggests he wants answers, but that he’s almost too afraid to ask the questions.
“Was this sword really stuck in that stone, Merlin?”
“Well….”
“And you told Morgana that it was forged in a dragon’s breath.”
“Well…the thing is….”
Merlin hesitates, not sure what to say. But then Arthur turns to him, eyes questioning, and it all comes spilling out. “First of all, the sword’s name is Excalibur.”
And then Merlin tells Arthur everything. How Excalibur was meant for Arthur and no one else. How he took the best sword that Gwen’s father had and asked Kilgharah to enchant it. How he had to throw it in the lake to keep it from Uther. How he used it to defeat Morgana's undead army, then placed it in the stone so it would be ready when Arthur needed it. He finishes up with how he threw it in the Lake of Avalon after Arthur's death so that no one else would be able to use it.
When he’s done, Arthur looks down at the weapon in his hand and laughs. “I always knew there was something special about this sword. Well, beyond the fact that I had to pull it out of a stone, at any rate.”
Merlin smiles. “That sword’s been through a lot, Arthur. It has quite a history.”
“Yes, it does. Thanks to you.”
Merlin shakes his head. “It’s your sword, Arthur. It always has been. I’ve just…borrowed it a few times.”
“Merlin, it’s thanks to you that I even have this sword. It’s thanks to you that I lived long enough to use it; to appreciate it for what it really is. It’s not just my sword, Merlin. In a way…it’s ours.”
Merlin laughs. “Whatever you say, sire,” he says jokingly.
“I mean it, Merlin," Arthur responds in all seriousness. "This sword is…it’s like a part of us. Your magic, my courage. It’s a symbol. It means….” Arthur pauses, at a loss, but then, finally, Merlin thinks he knows what Arthur is getting at.
“We fight together. We always have, Arthur, and we always will.”
The king seems lost in thought, and Merlin knows what he’s considering: whether or not to keep the sword. Leave it in the throne room or take it on the road.
“I know that you’ll say that Excalibur belongs here and that I don’t need it out there - the world is different than the one I left. I know that. But...other than my mother’s sigil, it really is my last piece of home. It’s not just some keepsake that reminds me of all the battles I’ve fought, Merlin. From a very young age, we’re taught that the sword is an extension of ourselves, our being. I’ve almost never been apart from my sword, and Excalibur...it’s something special, like you said. Think of it as your magic. How would you feel if it was taken away from you?” He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “I know I won’t get to use it that often, but it would do me a great service if I could keep it with me.”
“I would hate it,” the warlock admitted, “If it means this much to you, of course. I just think it would encumber you to carry it along the way.”
“I’ll manage. After years of wielding it, it’s honestly dead weight.”
Merlin nods and casts a charm that makes the sword invisible to all but them. It will not do to raise suspicion. “If that’s it, let’s go.” Arthur follows him from the throne room as they begin their long journey.
...
They don’t get far their first day, what with their late start and their detour into the city. They sleep under the stars, wrapped up in blankets Merlin took from the cottage.
Merlin wakes once in the middle of the night, shivering violently, but Arthur mumbles in his sleep and pulls him closer, and he settles back down, blaming it on the chill in the air.
Even when he knows it’s Malus.
...
The next afternoon, they pass by the village they slept in a few nights ago, and they raid it for as many clothes as they can carry on top of their own packs, carefully choosing the warmest, best made jackets, sweaters, and boots, knowing the weather will only get colder as Autumn really settles in.
In one of the houses, Arthur picks up a book. Merlin sees the title, “Le Petit Prince,” as Arthur slides it into his bag. He catches Merlin looking at him.
“What?” he asks defensively. “I like the pictures.”
Merlin just smiles.
…
From the village, Merlin turns them north. They stop for lunch. Excalibur in hand, Arthur heads into the woods to kill a couple of rabbits while Merlin gathers what food he can find. They eat a rabbit and a handful of nuts between the two of them, saving the other rabbit for later.
Later on, as the sun begins to set, they see their first signs of civilization. They pass by wheat fields, then a small orchard, followed by a decently sized garden.
"I've been here before, a long time ago," Merlin says as they approach the outskirts of a large village. "The people here are helpful, but wary. You should let me do the talking."
"That's probably our only option, Merlin, considering I won't be able to understand anyone," Arthur says bitterly. "You forget I don't speak the language."
Merlin laughs.
"Of course." He had fallen into their old language so easily, he'd forgotten that Arthur wouldn't understand Modern English. "But that's an easy fix."
He places his hand on Arthur's forehead. Merlin's eyes glow, and Arthur closes his eyes as a strange but warm magic flows through him.
"How's that? Can you understand me?"
And while Arthur knows that Merlin is speaking a language he shouldn't be able to comprehend, he understands him just fine.
"Yes. Yes, I do," Arthur says easily, even though the words he speaks feel foreign on his tongue. He ponders this new development, and soon his face lights up with realization. “Does this mean I'll be able to read your books on my own?"
"Mhm. It'll probably feel weird at first, but after awhile the new language will feel as natural as our old one."
"Will you read the books to me anyway?" Arthur blurts out. The embarrassment creeps up on him, and he quickly amends, "I mean, it's just...."
Merlin raises an eyebrow in an eerie representation of Gaius and makes Arthur want to throttle him. "If you want me to, of course I will," the warlock replies, smug.
“God, I’m such a girl’s petticoat.” Arthur mumbles, but Merlin hears.
“I prefer dollophead.”
“Oh, shut up, Merlin. Or I’ll put you in the stocks and feed you to the dogs.”
And Merlin can’t help but pointing out, “But Sire, how will you do so if there aren’t any stocks?”
“I’ll give you a three second head start.”
“For what?” Merlin asks, confused.
Arthur says, grinning wickedly, “To start running.”
