Hey, dear readers! Merlin's my first fantasy fandom being a television series, excluding Sherlock. It's this little project I've been working on. Sorry if the characters are a little OOC. As you see, I'm obsessed with the PJO fandom—I've got crossovers with Merlin, Harry Potter, Ranger's Apprentice with Percy Jackson. And since there's not a story I've like in this crossover, I've decided to make one. Purely beneficial for me, and for you. ^_^ Percy's timeline is set after the Giant War, and with Merlin's… well, you'll find out soon enough. And, here we go!
UPDATED: Quote and some mistakes here and there. Nothing drastically important.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Percy Jackson.
"The ultimate function of prophecy is not to tell the future, but to make it. Your successful past will block your visions of the future."
Joel Barker
Chapter 1: Prognostication
At least he had his memories this time.
Percy didn't know where he was—maybe this was something the gods (he can hear the name Hera there) planned. He was sick of this, this being abducted.
Technically, not abducted. Because it was his choice to follow the voice willingly, right?
Emrys needs you.
That creepy disembodied voice he'd been hearing inside his head was the stupid reason he was stuck in this whatever world he is. It neither sounded male nor female—only something about the voice made it… powerful and ethereal.
Maybe he's going crazy, having hallucinations and voices inside his head.
Arthur needs you.
He had followed the voice because he was bored right out of his mind. Things around him were quiet and untroubled. After all, what could a demigod do with the things around him normal? Not that he was asking for a war, of course. He just got out of one alive, thank you very much.
Then there's also a tugging sensation that also made him moving forward and onwards, almost like… some sort of calling, aside from the voice. Inside his head.
Yep, he's definitely going crazy.
Albion needs you.
It had led him to an entrance of a forest which had two trees, bending with each other on their tops, almost like the trees were whispering their secrets to each other. He had hesitated, then continued on, following the narrow path. The air grew heavier and crisp, and the trees thickened, but still he stubbornly followed it, growing more and more curious by the minute.
By the time he regained his wits that maybe he was heading into another world, it was too late. When he tried to turn back, he found that the path back to Manhattan vanished—leaving only one option: continue towards the winding path.
He wasn't in New York anymore, that's for sure. Hell, he didn't even know if he was still in his world. He was so caught up in his musings that he only knew that something changed when he stepped into a clearing. The moment he did, the sounds of the forest stopped.
Son of Poseidon.
She stood in the middle of the clearing, tall and straight. She wore a cloak past her feet, flowing and billowing even if there is no wind rustling it. Maybe it was just a thing these gods or whatever she is had. A cowl hid her face in the shadows, her lips only visible, smiling gently; a hand was outstretched to him as if to welcome the demigod, or to take her hand. He knew that he wouldn't, and he was certain she knew that he wouldn't.
Her aura, thick and heavy around the figure, was stronger than any of the gods he ever meet—even one this powerful could compete with the aura of Gaea's. Hers was ancient and commanding.
We meet at last.
The voice wasn't coming from her lips; it remained smiling throughout his observation. Percy could hear it inside his head. It filled him to the brim, made him feel whole, and made him completely overwhelmed. Her cloak shifted as he came closer warily, and he found his eyes glued to it as if something will come out from it. It cascaded down like waterfall, and he could see it: time and space, past and future, the rise and fall of great kings and their kingdoms, of battles and wars fought and won and lost, of magic, of cerulean blue glowing molten gold, of a great warlock, of the Once and Future King—
Listen to me, Perseus Jackson. It seemed like she was holding back an amused smile. Albion needs you. Emrys and Arthur need you.
He broke out of his trance, growing irritated at the words. "Yeah, I get that. But who is this Albion, or Emrys or Arthur?"
I have foreseen these events, and created a prophecy for them to help them fulfill their destinies. She started to walk, side from side; more like she was gliding, as if the action will make him understand better. Of course it didn't. Of a land united again, Albion. Of her great ruler, the Once and Future King, who will bring back magic at her land, and of the greatest warlock ruling by his side, Emrys.
The demigod's throat was dry as he spoke. "And–and what has it got to do with me? Again?"
The battle has won, but the king has lost. Her smile became sad, like someone who had a burden too much heavy to carry. Time will pass, and magic will not be brought back to the land. Like your world. Arthur will be dead without you and Emrys will be alone. Forever.
"Why me?"
I knew you had been practicing to be a greater swordmaster since Chrysaor defeated you easily during your quest. Arthur will require not only this skill, but of your legacy powers, as well as you see fit. Gain Prince Arthur's trust. Be a Knight of Camelot.
Damn. So these eternal beings were all the same: stalkers. But she's right. Ever since the quest, he had been at the camp more than usual with no more upcoming quests, finally. He had been training younger demigods, and tried and won against every one of them that everyone worshipped him.
He sighed. Running away will certainly not help matters. It will only make them worse. You cannot escape fate forever. "Where can I find him?"
To the East, you will find the Kingdom of Camelot. Seek shelter from the Court Physician. He will certainly be able to help you and his ward. Her tone took a darker tone. But beware, son of Poseidon. Sorcery is banned from the Kingdom of Camelot. Even the slightest suspicion can get you executed, by the orders of the king.
Percy hesitated. "Why?"
Her gaze, although hidden, intensified at him as she faced the demigod. King Uther's wife died because of magic. He wanted to have a son, and the sorceress Nimueh granted his wish. Shortly after childbirth, Ygraine died, for the magic of the Old Religion to make a new life, one must die, so the balance of life can be restored. And the Purge began. Since then, the king sought out to execute sorcerers in his kingdom.
The demigod winced. "Guess I don't want to be executed," he muttered.
She nodded in sympathy. Indeed, young man. You must control yourself and your emotions, or your power will react on its own. You and Emrys share a destiny of protecting the Once and Future King. Protect him child, and do not fail.
He nodded solemnly. "Got it." As the deity turned around, Percy called out, "Wait!"
What is it, young hero?
"I just meant to ask, who are you?"
My name doesn't matter. But if you are to ask me, I am called Fyrngidd.
As she turned away, her face caught the last rays of the sinking sun. They pierced the depths of the cowl, and Percy learned one more thing.
Her eyes were the color of the molten gold.
Fyrngidd means "prophecy" in Old English. Fitting, right? Tell me if you've loved this! And revieeeewww! Love them, the reviews. Who doesn't, anyway?
Doesn't mean if I started this that I've abandoned my other stories. Just wait, review, and I'll update them. ^_^
~BloodDarkerThanCrimsonOut.
