Name: Taken By The Storm
Chapter: One
Summary: Two armies meet. Only one will be victorious. The consequences will affect the whole of Albion.
AN: Okay, so I know I'm writing Set In Motion at the moment, but I was having big problems. Big problems as in being so uninspired that I was questioning my own writing career problem. Don't worry though! I think I just re-inspired myself. Well, it was 10:00 PM and I was in bed, and this idea suddenly came into my head. So I started writing, and half an hour later, this is what I got. I will write some more of SIM tomorrow, and I should have plenty of time for writing this weekend, if I can find somewhere to stay. (My mum and dad are away, and so are my brothers, so I'm effectively homeless)
Anyway, this is royal merlin. Yes, there's been a few of these fics recently, but I've been dreaming of writing one of these since I started SIM, so... there. There are dragons in this fic; more than one. Just a warning. And Merlin is the prince of Caerleon, and Balinor isn't alive, though still his father (okay, that got you wondering! He's the prince, but his fathers dead? Who's king?)
Just so you know, the first line came into my head, I started writing, and I have absolutely no idea where this story will go. Hence why the summary is so vague. Also, sorry it's quite short. But it's late, I'm tired, and I've got to get up early tomorrow. Not that I'm complaining... right.
You'll probably want to start reading now, so go ahead. But first: Please, please, please review as well as read. I really want to know what you think, especially after my big problems. Uh, yeah. I do have bigger problems (like the voices - you mean you don't have them too?) but the big problem I mentioned above... anyway...
Edit: This is a new, revised version of the chapter. It contains more backstory and is generally better written.
The sun shone as the two armies faced each other.
Steel glinted in the light, while the very air seemed to freeze as it waited. A couple of vultures circled overhead; they wouldn't be going hungry tonight.
The forest backing Camelot's army sent a formidable shadow over the ground, Caerleon's looking up from the brow of the hill. Hundreds of metres separated the two and yet soon they would be mixed and intertwined in a deadly dance of war.
"Knights of Camelot!" boomed Arthur Pendragon, crown prince of Camelot as he sat astride his big bay. He nudged his horse so that they were trotting up and down the ranks. "Remember what we fight for today! Remember who we fight for today! Our family and our friends, our homes and our lives! These people would seek to from us what is ours and we must fight back. We. Must. Fight!
"Look at their army! They are half our number, yet come from a land twice the size of ours. Are they so cowardly so as not to fight when they are called for? Are they so cowardly as to turn and run when they hold the advantages, when it is they that called for war? These are the men whom we shall face in battle. Look upon their faces and do not fear, but pity.
"Remember what we fight for and remember; this is a battle we shall win!"
Arthur raised his sword high in the air, letting out a yell, easily riding his horse as it pranced to the side. Under his proud gaze, every single man before him rose there weapon and an almighty cheer resounded through the air.
Taken By The Storm :: Taken By The Storm
Prince Merlin, Dragonlord, Lord of the Druids and Earthshaker rode in front of his own army and wished for his father.
The men in front of him were gloomy and fearful as they shifted uncomfortably. Their mismatched armour and wide array of weapons gave them the appearance of wild tribes of the north rather than protectors of Caerleon. Many of them had never even held a weapon before, as was seen by the awkward way which they carried them.
Merlin surveyed them once more and wondered how he was supposed to motivate them as they went to what would surely be their deaths. How could he instill hope when he had none left?
The odds were not favourable. They had half the army of Camelot and none of the skill. They were ill prepared and had hardly enough armour or weapons to go around. Next to Camelot's array of shiny armour, sharp weapons and freshly trained recruits, they were a poor sight.
They weren't ready for this.
Hell.
He wasn't ready for this.
So how to start his speech? How to motivate his men? The facts were dismal and would surely only worsen the already grim mood. The truth was worse.
Leaning forwards, he patted his black stallion, more for his own comfort than the horse's. He took a deep breath. It was now or never. The war wouldn't wait just for him.
"People of Caerleon!" he yelled, magnifying his voice with magic so that it rolled across the plains. Was that a good start? In front of him, his men fell quiet, turning to look at him with dead eyes that had seen the path ahead and knew it was the end.
"You stand before me like fear driven, crazed men. You stand there, quaking in your boots and wondering why you are here and why you ever came. Why? Because the sight of your enemy has sent you calling for your mothers!
"Who are you? Are you sorcerers and warlocks and people of Caerleon, or are you cowards who would turn and flee?
"You think not of your families who wait at home, depending on you to save them. You think not of your country that you have sworn to protect with your live; it depends on you.
"You hold the weapon in your hands as if it is a stranger, as if you have never seen it before. You wonder if you will find it in yourself to take someone's life with it. Ask yourself this: will your enemy hesitate for you? Would they hesitate for your wife or your children? No. Every blow you strike is a blow against Camelot and a life saved. A child, or a woman saved. Maybe your wife, or your child.
"You are not defenceless! You do not rely on your weapons, but on magic, the very foundation of the earth and our lives. Did the Druids give up when they were hunted like animals? No! Did the dragons, when they were slaughtered like common beasts? No! Shall we? No!"
With a flash of gold eyes a fireball shot up in the air and exploded, leaving behind a projected overhead image of Caerleon.
"Think of your family. Your mothers and fathers, your wives and children. We fight for them. We fight for them!"
A loose cheer broke from the men in front of him and Merlin allowed a smile to grace his own lips as he joined in. His speech seemed to have worked. After a few moments, he banished the image in the sky and turned to face Camelot's army.
This was it.
Now, truly, the world seemed to stop. Everything was silent. The wind fell. The vultures ceased circling. Men and animal alike froze.
Silence.
"Charge!"
The loose cry was echoed on both sides and the silence was broken by a thunder of hooves, the pounding of men and the shouts that rose from both sides. As Prince Arthur's men came out of the shadow the sun glinted on their armour, making them almost impossible to look at.
Merlin closed his eyes. His horse was straining powerfully beneath him, muscles bunching with every stride. The wall of sound around him was immense.
Two quick breaths amongst the chaos.
In.
Out.
He opened his eyes and he was there. He pulled out his sword in a single, fluid movement, and raised it high in the air.
"For Caerleon!"
The battle began.
Taken By The Storm :: Taken By The Storm
No one quite knew what originally caused the animosity between Uther and Balinor. Some said it was magic; others pointed out that the feud had begun far before the Great Purge. Still more suggested that they just didn't get on.
No matter how it started, it was only because of Lady Yrgraine that for many years peace was maintained between the two kingdoms. After her death, when the Great Purge began, Balinor did not retaliate for the slur against his kind, but instead welcomed those who had fled with open arms.
In the decade and a half afterwards, it more due to blind luck than any skills in negotiation that they remained at peace.
It was no surprise to anyone when war was declared.
Taken By The Storm :: Taken By The Storm
The armies met with a cascade of sound.
Steel screeched against steel, horses whinnied and screamed, the ground shook with pounding footsteps and men yelled.
The first line on both sides fell quickly, horses halted mid step by pikes and spears, men clutching their chests where arrows had pierced. Prince Merlin and Prince Arthur whirled in the thick of it, swords flashing, killing without hesitation. Both were still mounted upon their horses.
At first, neither side gained ground. The Knights of Camelot were trained well while the Caerleons were shielded with magic. They seemed evenly matched until little by little, Camelot began to press forward. By mercilessly attacking the sorcerers until their shields were broken, then unleashing their full fury, they slowly gained the advantage.
Arthur was in the thick of it. His horse fell to an axe and he climbed from it's dead body, moving to the nearest person and attacking with deadly precision. He appeared to be in some sort of trance, his face blank as he whirled and twirled in a dance of death. Few of those ho crossed his blade survived.
Leaning back, a sword clumsily aimed at his neck missed by inched. Feinting to the right, Arthur stabbed forwards, aiming straight for the heart. His strike as blocked in mid air by an invisible shield but he had been expecting it. Almost before his sword was stopped, he had brought back and was moving in an overhead strike. Once more it was blocked and he only just had time to duck as a ball of fire scorched over his had, singing some of his hair.
Lunging forwards he battered the sorcerer's sword away, striking every inch of sorcerer he could find until what seemed like an hour later, the shield was broken and the sorcerer lay dead.
Panting with exertion, he saw a sword rise above him in the corner of his vision and twisted around, sword meeting sword with a terrible screech.
And so it began again.
Taken By The Storm :: Taken By The Storm
Merlin was surrounded by the enemy.
They might not know it, occupied as they were, but he was overly conscious of the fact. Desperation was in his movements as he fought with steel in one hand, magic in the other. His face was pulled into a frown and exhaustion seeped at the corners of his vision. The shields he was holding up took a lot more energy out of him than he had originally thought.
The man immediately in front of him was dispatched easily but someone from behind attacked him as he was mid swing. He grunted as energy was pulled out of him to maintain the shield. He gestured behind him with one hand, eyes glowing gold and knew from the answering scream that he had hit his target.
Someone appeared on his right and turned to face them, raising his word and beginning to duel.
Block, thrust, block, block, parry, feint, overhead, block.
Then, while he was drawing his sword back for another blow, he sent a wall of energy out, quickly killed his opponent and two other.
A grim, animalistic smile lit his face.
Then another three converged on him and he was fighting for his life once again. They attacked ferociously, together, and his shield failed for just a moment. He screamed as steel cut into flesh with a terrible tearing sound. The shield came back and he killed the one who had hurt him with a flick of his wrist and a flash of gold, biting his lip to keep from crying out.
Dispatching the other two quickly, he took a moment to glance around the battle field.
He was not surround by foe any more, but by friend, though this did little to console him. Even from just a brief glance he could tell the obvious.
They were losing.
His heart wrenched. His people were depending on victory; if it was not theirs, then he had not only failed himself but his army, his people and his kingdom.
Making sure head had no opponents around him, he let a roar build in throat and released it, the sound rising above all others in the battlefield. The words of the Old Religion flowed from his tongue easily.
The drain of energy he felt was huge, but it was worth it.
If all went well, he had secured a victory for Caerleon; and they were defeated, not only Caerleon, but all of Albion was doomed.
The dragons were coming.