Chapter 1
Camelot has fallen. The inferno's blaze shone with crimson red as it consumed the steepled towers and crenulated walls of the city. The fire shown against the night sky and the billowing clouds of smoke filled the air blocking the stars. Behind the ashen smoke a nearly black moon shone feebly down on the dying city.
Great mobs of refugees fled. Outside the city they formed into long lines of solemn stone faced and weeping people, some carrying babes and others carrying whatever possessions they could manage to save from the fires. The lines funneled into check points along the roads. Enemy soldiers checked each refugee as they passed, looking for the former rulers of the once great kingdom.
Huddled among the masses were three darkly cloaked people. A tall man with a short beard, a woman with curly black hair and ebony skin, and white haired old man. They pulled their cloaks tight around their heads and turned away every time a soldier passed them in line.
"They're sure to find us out," whispered the beard man. "We should have ran cross-country, until we reached the king's forest."
"The minute we break from this crowd we'll look suspicious and then they most certainly will catch us. The silver haired man said.
"Oh what are we to do?' pleaded the woman.
"Don't worry," said the old man, "I've prepared something that will help conceal our true Identities." He pulled out a green glass bottle, a small label tied around the cork stopper read one word Wither.
"Well we better do something soon, the check point is just ahead," said the bearded man as he shuffled ahead with the crowd.
"Here, take a small drink of this. It should be enough until we pass the soldiers." The old man handed the potion to the woman, who took a sniff of it then plugged her nose and quickly raised it to her mouth, tipped it and just as quickly lowered it. Her face scrunched up, as she passed it to the bearded man.
The man tossed it back splashing the foul contents to the back of his throat. He chocked it down and then handed the bottle back to the old man who also took a drink and then pocketed the bottle. They were only a few meters from a dozen soldiers who were inspecting the passing crowd.
"Just stay calm," the old man said, "no matter what, don't draw undue attention to yourself."
They approached the solder who had been eagerly searching the previous group of refugees. Throwing back hoods, pulling off rings and valuables they deemed a threat and generally terrorizing the former residents of Camelot.
The minute the soldiers focused their attention on the group of three they slowed. Before they'd barked orders and laughed at the cowering peasants but now their words seemed slowed and slurred. The bearded man couldn't understand what the soldiers were saying. The soldiers lazily patted their cloaks as if in a drunken stupor, not even removing the hoods they just waved them on. The three didn't waste time and hurried on past the soldiers and into the night.
Later, gathered around a campfire, the three sat and collected themselves. Noticing the woman shivering the bearded man added his own cloak around her shoulders.
"My Lady," he said, "we've seen quite enough horrors today, but I promise you I will get you to safety."
"And where is safety, Leon?" the woman looked at him. "All of Avalon hates us. We broke our own treaty by allowing magic back into our borders and now they all hate us."
"Your Majesty, we must leave Avalon and head to outer kingdoms," The old man said.
"And I will protect you," Leon repeated.
Gwen turned to the old man. "What does it matter Gaius? Camelot is no more. The Pendragons have all fallen and there is no heir to continue the throne."
"You are what remains of Camelot," Gaius said. "As long as you live-"
"I died a long time ago when my husband," she sobbed, "When Arthur died." She began to cry.
"Gwen," the old man said putting an arm around her shaking shoulders. "Camelot, Arthur and the kingdom live through you."
"This is what they tell me, but I failed. I failed them all," Gwen continued to sob.
"You haven't failed. You only fail if you give up," Gaius replied. "What would Arthur say at a moment like this?"
Gwen stopped crying and dried her tears with the sleeve of her cloak. Then straightening her back she said, "I must- we must all be strong."
"Yes we must," Gaius said with a smile.
Leon stood off toward the hill that sheltered them from the wind. He waved Gaius over to him. The old man patted Gwen's hand, rose and then followed Leon to the top the hill that over looked the land. They could see out for miles. In the distance they could see the red glow of their former home, still burning.
"You must be exhausted," Gaius said. "You were on the frontlines this morning, you haven't taken time to rest. I have a potion that will help restore you." Gaius fished through the pockets of his cloak and handed an azure colored bottle to Leon.
Leon took it and thanked Gaius. He tucked it into a pouch on his belt.
"You're right Gaius, my arms and legs have never felt so tired and heavy, Leon said. "This morning I stood on the walls of Camelot and looked at the vastness of the enemy. Like a churning horde of black ants they came from all directions. Even so, I truly believed then that we could beat them. We always had before. I kept expecting it. That unexpected thing that would suddenly happen and save us all. But it didn't."
"You realize that the unexpected thing was always Merlin's work?" Gaius asked.
"I suspected it," Leon hung his head. "And yet despite his long absence I thought that maybe it was Camelot itself, the ideals and the legacy of valor that would somehow turn the tide of battle."
"All legacies must fade," Gaius said.
"No, not Camelot," Leon said. "People will always remember her."
"Perhaps," Gaius said.
"I must confess. I thought he'd come back," Leon said with a pained laugh and a smile.
"Me too," Gaius said and put his hand on the shoulder of the knight.
The two sat in silence, just watching the billowing smoke in the distance that rose up like an inverted volcano. Owl hooted and a chilled night breeze pushed over the hilltop causing Gaius to wrap his arms around his cloak, pulling it tightly closed.
"They will come for her," Leon said.
"Yes," Gaius said, "we must be ready for them." Gaius walked back to Gwen.
Leon stayed and looked out at the distant remains of his former home. He tasted ash in his mouth. He thought of all the time he had spent there. His service to Uther, to his son Arthur, and then to Queen Guinevere. He felt proud of every single moment. Before leaving the hill he said a prayer that one day he would return and help to restore everything that Camelot once was.
"Long live Camelot," he said and walked down the dark slope to an uncertain future.
Author's note: This story is being written in conjunction with the author lossofmerlin so be sure to check out her part of the story too.
