Chapter 1

The armoury of Camelot housed the finest weapons in all of the Five Kingdoms. It was a place where the trophies of fallen soldiers, greedy goblins and even kings were housed, all showing the victories of Camelot. The many secrets that the dim room contained were incredible. The price of the smallest of daggers could easily feed a family for weeks, yet the dark clad thief only had eyes for one blade.

The weapon had only days ago been pulled from a stone and led the people of Camelot into battle against the dark witch Morgana and the forces of the cruel warlord Helios. Now it rested in a dark glove which quickly faded away leaving only the soft rustle of the wind in its wake.

Merlin winced as a tomato thrown by a wild eyed boy collided with a spatter of red into his dark hair as the merchants and shoppers of the Upper Markets watched on in amusement. Merlin glanced up slowly, wary not to bang his head on the frame of the stocks that he was trapped in. Arthur, the newlywed King of Camelot waved down at him from the lower battlements of Camelot Castle with a huge grin plastered across his face. Merlin had only joked about the new hole he had to make in Arthur's belt to cheer him up – he didn't find anything more unbearable than the moping King - and it seemed to have worked, except at Merlin's expense. Even though the young king had only recently married to his beloved Guinevere and most days could be found in soppy eyed happiness with his wife moments of sadness often came to him when he remembered the smuggler, Isolde who had died in combat to save his life from Morgana's ally Helios.

The children eventually ran out of rotten fruit and the marketplace lost interest so Merlin was freed by a chuckling guard. After buying some herbs from a grim faced old woman at the apothecary by the city gates, he began to makes his way up to the castle, absentmindedly plucking mouldy fruit from his neckerchief, dreading the raised eyebrow Gaius would undoubtedly force him to endure.

Merlin was roused from his thoughts by a shrill cry of alarm. He turned, seeing a hooded figure, running at speed towards the gates of the city followed by several red-faced guards clutching spears. It was obvious from the figure's speed that the guards would not be able to catch the thief – the black garbs quickly giving away the figure's intent. Merlin considered using subtle magic to aid the guards but after quick consideration he realised the trouble he would land in if he was caught, especially so soon after Morgana's attack. It just wasn't worth the trouble for some lowly thief.

He moved to turn way, refocusing his attention on the chores he still had to finish, when a gleam caught his eye. Clutched awkwardly between the gloved hands of the thief, was Arthur's sword, Excalibur. He would recognise it anywhere, and he knew for a fact that the blade had been placed in the armoury, to stay safe should the time arise that it was needed again – he was the one to put it there after all. His heart pounding in his chest, his mind swirled with wondering questions. How did they know about the sword? How could someone break into the armoury, when it was constantly surrounded by royal guards? Was it an ally of Morgana? What is the thief going to do with Excalibur? Sell it, use it? And, perhaps most importantly, what should he do?

Before even pausing to formulate a plan Merlin took off in pursuit. The words of the Great Dragon springing to mind immediately, if any man beside Arthur wielded the weapon forged in the dragon's breath then terrible evil would be released on all the kingdoms of the world. Kilgharrah's rage when Uther used it briefly to slay a wraith was proof of the terrible truth of the prophecy. He increased his pace, quickly passing the guards and slowly gaining on the thief. It was times like these when his lanky frame and long legs came in handy. Over the last few years of quests and adventures he had certainly improved his running speed, although he was usually sprinting away from danger, not headlong towards it.

The figure quickly sensed Merlin's presence, glaring back at him with a glowering hatred infused in deep brown eyes almost obscured by the dark cloth of the hood. Merlin held his gaze at the thief, noticing for the first time the soft contours of the thief's body. It was a woman!

'Emrys'

The single word that reverberated through Merlin's mind was soft and gentle, the voice of a young lady, confirming Merlin's thoughts. A moment of surprise followed, for the thief was both a woman, a warlock, and someone who knew his name as he was known amongst the secretive Druids. She used this brief moment of uncertainty to her advantage, shouting a word even as her eyes glowed with an intense gold.

"Ecg misse!"

The words of the Old Religion hummed with a great power which surged through the air, guided by the woman's outstretched palm. Merlin and the pursuing guards who were only a few paces behind him were immediately knocked from their feet. Merlin hit the ground hard, his head striking the cold cobblestone of the street. Pain spiralled through his body as his vision flared with intense colour and then began to fade to black. The last thing he registered before fading into unconsciousness was the clatter of hooves upon the stone of the city gates.

The thief had escaped.

Excalibur was lost.

First fan fiction. Big thanks to my awesome beta reader WhatIMustWrite. Did you like my story? Should I keep writing? Reviews are much appreciated :)