Prologue - 6 Years Ago
The boy awoke as he smelled something in the air. Charred. Decayed. Deadly. There was blood in the air, for blood had been spilled. There was a fair bit of noise from the incoming battle, however distant. No one had yet to burst into his chambers, so the boy figured he was relatively safe.
Glancing wearily around the room, he rose from the bed and put on a red tunic and boots. If they indeed had to flee, he wanted to be at least somewhat clothed. The boy could see fires burning outside of the castle as he dressed, dancing and flickering as they doomed houses and people alike to the same blazing demise. No one had the right to attack his kingdom and take from his people like that. It just wasn't right.
The boy jumped as he heard a soft knock at the door. The clashing of swords had gotten closer to his chambers, the sounds of the fight now mixing with the warning bells clanging over the bruning city.
Going to answer the door, the boy found Will. Will was his best friend and a fierce fighter, though he was still only a squire.
"Will?" The boy questioned, pulling the other inside as the fighting raged closer and closer.
"Merlin!" Will gasped, as the other had just accidentally thrown him to the floor. Merlin helped his friend to his feet, careful of the arm that had apparently been injured in the battle.
"We're under attack!" Will exclaimed as he caught his breath.
"I can hear that," Merlin muttered, peering into the hallway from the door.
"It's not that - it's Lord Castilian, sire. He's leading his own troops against the castle as we speak."
Merlin cursed under his breath, reaching for the sword that had been sitting right by his bedside. A flash of golden eyes and the sword belt had would itself around his waist, for the prince possessed a powerful magic.
"We must leave, sire," Will urged. "The queen has ordered me to see you out of the citadel and into the forest."
"I can't just leave men here to die for me and my family!" Merlin exclaimed, struggling to keep his temper. "I can't leave my father and the knights and the people of this land!"
"Your father and I will go with you, Merlin." A new voice cut through the sounds of the battle. This one was sweet, nurturing. Merlin turned to see his mother, Queen Hunith, standing in the servants' entrance, holding a dagger in one hand. "Though we must go now; Lord Castilian's men are almost here."
Merlin looked from his mother back to Will, and then from Will to his mother again. Could he really give up on his kingdom, his people in a split-second decision?
Will tapped him on the shoulder, handing him a goblet. "For your nerves," He offered. "You look terrible, mate."
Merlin took the goblet and downed it, feeling his legs buckle under him as his eyes shut.
He awoke again in a small house. A woman was there as well, cooking something over the fire.
"Where am I?" He muttered trying to sit up.
The woman turned around, hearing the prince's struggle. As she neared, Merlin could see that she was not some stranger, but his mother.
"Careful, Merlin, you're still weak."
"Where are we?" Merlin asked, still confused. "Where's Father?"
Hunith's eyes were filled with regret and sadness. "The citadel was lost, dear. As far as I know, he is alive, but Lord Castilian's forces are numerous, and they are roaming as far as the borders, looking for us and him."
"If we're not in Ocrisa, then where are we?"
"Ealdor. My home. It's far from Ocrisa, very far. Castilian would have to march troops through Camelot or Essetir to find us."
Merlin sighed, laying back on the small bed. "If Father is indeed alive, then-"
"No," Hunith vetoed. "You are still weak from the sleeping draught, and it is to dangerous to search for him now." She bent down and kissed her son on the forehead. "Rest now, dear. Tomorrow we must work."