Chapter 1-Of Griffins and Warlocks

The slow tolling of the bell signalled impending doom as it echoed across courtyard. The finality of the final note struck despair into the hearts of those who heard it, as it reverberated into deathly silence. All hearts, except one, which remained as cold as ice, as it had been for more than twenty years.

Not a breath was taken by the gathered souls, not a whisper was heard, not an infant cried. The eyes of the bodies in the square were fixed on one spot and one spot only.

Everyone was silent. Silent as the grave.

The great oak doors creaked open slowly, shattering the silence, revealing the black void within. And out of this void came a ghostly figure, flanked on either side by armoured men in blood red tunics.

The boy walked freely between them, out of the black abyss with his pale neck holding his raven haired head high. His cerulean eyes swept the crowd with an unsettling intensity, piercing those on whom they fell. Not a flicker of fear appeared in those eyes, his countenance remained stone-cold, his bound hands did not quiver.

The boy was led through the crowd which parted for him like water in front of a boat. With a ripple of movement, the crowd came to life.

Muffled cries, half-choked sobs, despairing wails.

They boy's face remained unchanged, as he marched to the beat of the funeral drum which counted down to the end of his life, as the final pathway was revealed to the podium erected in the dead centre of the courtyard. The podium, on which stood a hooded man, clutching his blade.

The boy climbed the steps and stood on the podium, and looked straight ahead, ignoring those in the crowd who were shouting his name. This was it.

Suddenly a cold hard voice rang out over the courtyard, the voice of King Uther, announcing to all those present that this boy had been tried and convicted of the crime of sorcery, and therefore must pay with his life.

But almost none of this was heard by the one who stood by his side. Prince Arthur of Camelot could not take his eyes off of the fragile young man standing on the execution podium. His hands shook and his breath caught in his chest.

This could not be happening. Merlin cannot be a sorcerer.

Arthur and his father stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard and from all sides angry, tear-stricken faces turned up at him, accusing him. Merlin had been popular among the townspeople. Somehow that gangly idiot seemed to charm whoever he met, that lop-sided grin and sticky-out ears of his endeared him to so many. You just couldn't hate Merlin.

But Arthur reminded himself, this boy was not Merlin. This boy, about to die, could not be his pathetic, clumsy, good-for-nothing servant. He had trusted Merlin with his life, fought by his side so many times, scolded him whenever he was too lazy to clean his chambers, confided in him his feelings for Gwen...

This man in the courtyard was a sorcerer and everything he had done was a lie. It was all a trick, a smokescreen in his plot to take over Camelot. This man did not care whether Arthur lived or died...he was evil.

But still Arthur could not bring himself to really believe in his own conclusions. Merlin would never betray Arthur, somehow Merlin did just not seem like he could ever hurt anybody. He just wasn't like that.

But then, he reminded himself, that could have been his plan all along. Befriend Arthur, get close to him, close enough to be able to strike out at Camelot from within. Arthur cringed when he remembered all the confidential and urgent matters of state he had shared with Merlin. How could he have been so stupid? Merlin was a sorcerer, and it seemed a clever and powerful one at that, how else could he have hidden for so long? His acting skills were exemplary; no one would ever suspect that bumbling idiot of sorcery.

But here he was.

How had it come to this? Arthur thought back to three days earlier, had it only been three days?

"Hurry up Merlin you great buffoon!" he had yelled at his lanky manservant, as he trailed behind lugging all of Arthur's armour with him.

"If you help me carry it, it would take half the time!" Merlin shouted back in annoyance.

They had been walking back up to the castle after a training session and Arthur was in a foul mood, having been beaten by Sir Leon whilst sparring, which had unfortunately been witnessed by Gwen. He tried to tell himself he had just been distracted by her presence, but, as he had seen her laughing face after he had fallen, he didn't give much credence to the thought. Now he was taking it out on Merlin

"Don't be an idiot Merlin; the crown Prince of Camelot can't carry his own armour!"

"Why? Is it because it weighs too much in combination with your over- large head and huge ego?"

Arthur sighed in annoyance.

"Why is it I got lumbered with such an idiot as you for a servant anyway?"

Merlin just shrugged. "You got lucky I guess."

Arthur was about to make some smart retort when suddenly screams erupted from the main town. He did not waste any time. He sprang into action, seizing his sword from Merlin's over-laden arms and ran sprinting for the town.

When he arrived he saw absolute chaos had prevailed in the market. Stalls had been overturned, their wares scattered all over the ground and people running in every direction, stepping over those who lay on the ground with blood seeping through their clothes.

The source of the disturbance soon became clear. A giant creature filled the space between the buildings. It was thrashing around so much that Arthur could not see its features, until, as though sensing his presence, it turned and regarded him with too intelligent an eye to belong to any creature.

It was a griffin, almost identical to the one that had attacked Camelot previously, the one that had been killed by Lancelot. It seemed to hold him in its gaze, he was rooted to the spot.

Arthur heard Merlin running back towards him; late as usual. The griffin then regarded him as well, with a knowing gaze in its cruel eyes. Then, it turned away, leapt up into the air and flew away without turning back. Arthur was bewildered. Had the griffin been waiting for him? Arthur knew Merlin would just roll his eyes at him and call him an arrogant, self-important prat if he told him this, but how else could he explain why the griffin had so suddenly left? Unless it had been waiting for...

Arthur turned around to look at Merlin who looked equally as puzzled. Trying to lighten the mood Arthur said:

"Didn't know you were so ugly that you could even scare griffins away Merlin."

It had been a lame joke, and Arthur wasn't expecting much more than a weak smile and an immediate contradiction. But he did not receive even that. Merlin stood transfixed, staring at the spot the griffin had flown away from looking troubled.

"Missing your pal Merlin?" Arthur had teased, hoping for some response from him.

"What? Did you say something?" Merlin had asked, snapped from his thoughts.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter."

What was wrong with him? It wasn't like Merlin to pass up on an opportunity to insult Arthur, he realised he was counting on it to make him feel better. Merlin's silence was unnerving.

Arthur then began to take control of the situation, assisting the townspeople and helping to clear some of the debris. Merlin assisted him, but all the while a frown darkened his features and he seemed distracted. Arthur couldn't for the life of him work out why, but he pushed the matter away in his mind. There were more important matters in hand.

That afternoon, Arthur had reported to his father about the destruction and chaos the griffin had caused. His father had understandably been outraged and began blaming the castle wall guards for letting the beast fly in, blaming the farmers for giving no prior warning, blaming everyone he could think of. Arthur had remained silent, remembering the last griffin. It had not been so easy to get rid of. This troubled him greatly.

Matters had not improved when Gaius stepped forward and reminded the king about the supposed magical qualities of the beast. He had insisted that the beast must have been summoned by magic and sent to Camelot for a reason. Arthur had not believed his father would listen to Gaius, rather ignore him like he did last time, but now it seemed, Uther began to speculate as to the possibility of a magical threat in the kingdom, and acted accordingly.

Uther had then stepped up his anti-magic laws and doubled the watch. Curfews were imposed, suspects' interrogated, ordinary people were suspected and houses were searched. One of these searches had been what had produced that ancient, leather-bound book, hidden beneath the floor-boards under Merlin's bed...

Arthur had not believed for a moment that Merlin could have done anything to harm anyone, but as the days went by and Arthur was refused access to the dungeons to question Merlin himself, his doubts increased.

Why had the griffin stopped its attack when it saw Merlin?

Arthur was snapped out of his reverie by his father.

"Have you any last words, sorcerer?"

Arthur looked down at him. This was his moment, the moment to explain to everyone how this was all a mistake, how everything had gone so terribly wrong...the time for this nightmare to end.

Merlin's head snapped up. He stared at Uther for one long moment, as though trying to read his mind, before his gaze shifted to Arthur.

Arthur recoiled as Merlin's intense gaze rested on him. That cold hard stare was so uncharacteristic of Merlin; it chilled him to the bone. This wasn't him.

Merlin's eyes abruptly shifted back to Uther. Then his voice rang out, shrill in the silence of the courtyard, everyone leaning in to hear what he had to say, willing him to give some excuse, to find his way out.

Merlin smiled. "Yes. Tell your son he'll find his clothes in his wardrobe. It's about him he learned to dress himself."

Arthur felt a sudden desire to laugh; typical Merlin, never taking anything seriously, even when he was about to die. Then he frowned, wait a minute...there was an insult hidden in that remark. Arthur groaned inwardly. Then he remembered with horror: he had allowed himself to be dressed by a sorcerer. He felt humiliated.

Uther then raised his hand and the steady drumming became frenzied as the executioner forced Merlin down to his knees.

Arthur then felt a compelling desire to run, to force Merlin out of the way of the axe that was now hovering over his fragile neck. He couldn't allow this to happen; he couldn't allow the one that had saved his life so many times just die...

But he didn't. Like it or not, he was bound by his father's laws. Merlin had become a sorcerer, therefore must pay the price. The conflict in his mind seemed never-ending. He felt so confused, torn in so many directions.

What should he do? Hope that this was some horrible dream? Push Merlin out of the way, before being caught by the guards and executed at his side? Do nothing and watch Merlin die?

What if he really was a sorcerer? What if he wasn't? What if he never meant to betray to Camelot? What if he was on their side? What if he meant to destroy Camelot?

The axe was raised into the sky. The entire crowd took a collective gasp. The cold sun shone down on the courtyard, warming nothing, comforting no one.

Arthur tried to prepare himself for the final blow, but how do you prepare yourself for something like that? In the end it seemed he didn't need to.

As soon as the axe began to fall, a sudden blast resounded from the boy throwing the executioner and much of the crowd backwards. Merlin sprang up, his eyes glowing a foreign gold as the rope binding his hands together crumbled to dust, and stared up at the royal balcony. He flashed a mischievous grin at the King.

Arthur stood there in disbelief. He was overjoyed that Merlin was not dead, but at the same time, fearful. Merlin had just proven once and for all, he was a sorcerer. Arthur didn't know whether to be happy or sad at the absolution of his doubts. Suddenly Arthur realised, if Merlin had kept that hidden for so long, what else was he hiding? Was the accusation of him plotting to take over Camelot true? Now it seemed much more likely once Arthur had seen for himself the secret power his former manservant possessed.

His father began to scream orders at the guards to restrain him but the podium on which he stood was surrounded by some sort of invisible shield they could not penetrate.

Merlin looked up at Arthur directly, and Arthur saw sadness there in his eyes, a quiet disappointment, but also a firm resolution.

"I'll be back. Just make sure you don't starve without me."

Arthur heard this inside of his mind, but before he could do much more than stutter in shock Merlin's voice sounded, this time so everyone assembled heard him.

"Lyft brucan mec animan hwaer ic willa beon hal!"

Suddenly a great wind was summoned up and swept round and round Merlin, whose eyes were once again glowing golden. Everyone in the crowd screamed and ducked as the contents of the square were blown about and the intense wind made it impossible to open their eyes for more than a couple of seconds. Arthur covered his eyes as the buffeting gale reached him, the dirt and dust stinging his eyes after he saw the raging winds surround Merlin, hiding him from view.

When the winds had died down, Arthur risked looking back down into the courtyard.

Merlin was gone.