It was a normal day in the town of Camelot. There was an execution in the square-someone had been caught using magic. As the people gathered around the scene, and the executioner sharpened his blade menacingly, Arthur sat in his cell screaming. The prisoner was led out to face the crowd, the king declaring him an enemy of Camelot from his balcony. He never actually conversed with the town that he had poisoned with the idea that magic was evil. The crowd whispered among themselves as the magician was laid down against the wood block.

Arthur could peek through the bars, but he didn't want to see. He didn't want to see any more executions for the rest of his life. The king delivered his command to the executioner as Arthur watched in horror. The ax fell, and sliced through the ragged material that shielded his neck, the flesh, the bone. It separated the boy's head from his body and stuck to the block. Arthur cried out in pain. The boy had been a loyal servant to the crown for years. The witch hunter had accused him of magic and had sentenced him to death. The king complied instantly, but Arthur fought. He had drawn his sword with fierce eyes and fought for the life of this servant. He fought hard until he was finally defeated. They'd locked him in a cell to stay out of harm's way while the boy was killed, murdered in front of the townspeople. The executioner tossed the body on a wooden cart and bagged the head, leaving a bloody scarf to float through the square. Arthur cried. His best friend was dead. He whispered through the bars as they carried the corpse away, "Goodbye, Merlin."

Two days after the beheading of his best friend, Arthur was still taking his anger out on anyone who crossed his path. To cool his temper, he wandered into the woods and tried to loose himself. He didn't understand why that heavy feeling was still pressing down on his chest. Why did he miss that servant boy so much? Yes, they were friends, but should it still be hurting like this? Surely n- What was that noise? Drawing his sword, Arthur spun about, trying to locate the origin of that strange noise. What sort of beast-? Once more, he turned. There was a tall, blue wooden crate in the bushes.

There hadn't been one a second ago. It must be magic. Creeping forward, blade at the ready, the prince cautiously approached. He was only a few paces from the doors when they opened inward. A redheaded woman in skimpy clothing stepped out, calling after her. Was that a Scottish accent? What was a Scottish woman doing, appearing in his woods? And dressed like that... "C'mon, Rory! You too, Doctor! Honestly, how do I get anywhere with you two-oh. Um, hello." Her eyes widened as she noted the sword pointed at her.

"Who are you?"

"Right, then!" The Doctor leapt from the TARDIS, his normal five-year old personality kicking in playfully as he explained where he and his companions were.

"Camelot, England, turn of the century, the Once and Future king. He and his lover Merlin turned the entire way of life around time and time again. They used to say there was magic about here, but King Arthur's father used to burn...people...with magic..." The Doctor's cheerful expression faded when he saw Arthur. "Right then. Camelot knight, pointing his sword at us. Well, that's a new one."

"My name is Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot! You, sir, seem to know more about me than I myself know."

Arthur pointed his sword towards the skinny, and rather strangely dressed, man. Now that he thought about it, they all looked strange. There were two men and the woman with blazing hair, all standing before him, staring curiously. All seemed to have magically appeared from the large wooden crate that hardly seemed big enough to hold one of them, let alone three.

"State your name, warlock," he commanded.

"Ah. Yes. I'm the Doctor, this is Amy and Rory," the skinny man replied. He seemed to be the leader of the group. "If you'd take us to Merlin, I'm sure he could help explain-"

"Merlin is dead!" Arthur exclaimed, rather angrily. A prickling in his eyes warned that they were starting to tear up. "I don't know by what means you came to know him, but you, sir...you..."

"No. No, that's not right. Merlin isn't supposed to be dead; the century hasn't even turned yet! Uther is still alive, and you aren't king yet, so why...?" The Doctor stepped uncomfortably close to Arthur, their faces only inches from each other. "So why is Merlin dead?"

"He was executed...for use of magic."

"Oh, don't cry! Crying isn't for kings. I know you loved him and all, but it's really quite annoying. Come along, Ponds! and Prince Arthur. We've got a boy to save." The two 'ponds', as he called them, tagged behind the Doctor into the strange blue box.

"Well," the Doctor questioned, poking his head out to looked at Arthur. "Aren't you coming?"

Arthur stared at the man for a moment, blade still raised. Three strangely garbed people magically appear in his kingdom and expect him to follow into a tiny blue box? Not in this life- They said they could save Merlin. They were magic and said they could save Merlin. Forget what his father said-if there was the tiniest chance, he was going to seize it. Sheathing his sword, Arthur cautiously peaked through the door...and couldn't believe his eyes.

These people were definitely engaged in the dark arts. The inside of the box was huge. Before him was a staircase that led to a platform where a glowing column rose up to the domed ceiling. Doorways ringed the room, leading deeper into this strange world. Stumbling in, he jumped when the door slammed behind him. The Doctor was on the platform, twirling around, flipping levers, pushing buttons. Mesmerized, Arthur didn't notice until he was right in front of the control panel. His hand reached out, but was slapped away by the Doctor.

"Don't touch that! You'll blow up the Tribulon Galaxy with the controls set as they are!" Recoiling, Arthur backed up to the iron rails along the edge and grasped the cool medal. He wished he had grabbed his gloves. And the rest of his armor.

He was still thinking longingly about the rest of his weapons when a strange noise began echoing around him. The same noise as before! He had no words to describe it, and could only hold on tighter. He had a feeling that they were moving. The red-head-Amy- was standing next to him. She was obviously used to this-she only needed one hand to steady herself.

"So, you're a prince," she asked curiously. Arthur liked her accent, and found himself nodding. "That's cool. Are the legends true?"

"Legends? I-"

"We're here!" the Doctor announced, spreading his arms wide, a grin plastered across his face, "Come along then."

"What?"

The doctor grinned, "Don't you want to see what's behind the door?"