The hushed whispers among the multitude of people grow silent as the current King of Camelot and his son, the Once and Future King, approach the front of the ornamented balcony.
There weren't as many people as usual, today.
The crowd all gathered around the wet ground. It had just been raining.
As the sky cleared up, the King ordered freshly chopped wood to be placed at the bottom of the pyre, so that no amount of water could put a stop to this execution.
King Uther moves forward, and stands with his hands resting on the wooden railing, looking down upon all those who respect and revere him.
He regards them with an aura of a victor of war, about to claim his prize, and bring about its honoured death.
"Citizens of Camelot, I stand before you to pass judgement on the wicked and the sinful. I have long since been leading this war on magic, and since the foundation of the laws against sorcery, this kingdom has flourished and become the greatest demesne in all of Albion!"
Here he stopped his speech, and lifted his arms up to the level of his shoulders, using them to encompass all of his followers.
A great cheer broke out among the people, and people roared and applauded their King.
He smiled, and he lowered his arms, palms facing down, to hush the masses.
"I have once again seen the evils of magic, and it has once again been made clear to me that those who practice magic are wicked. I will once again purge this great city from a magical threat. You will all be safe, and we will once again continue to flourish."
The crowd cheered louder than before, people stomping their feet on muddy ground, clapping, howling and whistling.
Uther smiles, and knows that he is, once again, a hero in his people's eyes.
He looks to the knights standing guard to the exit of the dungeons, and addresses them loud enough for all to hear.
Three words. That was all that was needed to seal one's fate in this land. Three words to destroy one's destiny.
"Bring the sorcerer".
The crowd grew silent, as they all turned to watch the rusty metal gates part from the centre, allowing the knights to go through to the dungeons.
The people were patient, some watched with smiles on their faces, some apprehensive, and some were distressed.
But that didn't matter, for in the eyes of the king, no-one is innocent.
Seconds later, the guards emerged, tediously pulling a young man who was barely holding himself up on his own.
His feet, which were covered by dusty, moth eaten, brown boots, dragged along the sodden ground, barely making any footsteps at all.
His brown pants were tucked into them, dirt and stains covered them, a clear sign of what spending a night in the dungeons does to a peasant.
His blue shirt, covered by his brown jacket, was much in the same state.
The clothing he wore was incredibly loose on his body, being as tall and thin as he was.
The most obvious thing on his body, however, was the red neckerchief tied around his neck.
The chains around his arms and legs clinked as he moved, and his dull, lifeless hair fell over his eyes.
He kept his head down as he approached the pyre, the knights moving him none-too-gently up onto the wooden stage.
He was barely conscious, and didn't bother fighting against the knights as they chained him against the wooden pole.
He kept his head down low, and avoided any eye contact with anyone in the area.
Only after he had been chained up, and the wood placed around the base of the pyre did he look up, but not into the face of the one who condemned him today.
He looked up into the pale azure eyes of the Prince of Camelot, the one who condemned him yesterday.
He had bartered his life again, showing magic in front of the Prince when he thought him unconscious.
However, luck was not to be on his side.
Arthur charged forward, four knights flanking both his right and his left in battle formation.
He raised his sword, and aimed for a deadly blow to the creature's heart.
Although, as luck would have it, he was not to be taking the life of this magical beast today.
The creature reared its head, raising its front feet off of the ground, faced the small battalion, and rained poison onto the unsuspecting knights.
The men scattered and fell like dandelion florets once blown, and lay upon the ground.
Merlin, who had been tending to the horses, arrived shortly after.
He took one look at the beast, and then the men of Camelot lying upon the ground, and came upon the correct conclusion; this beast injured the Once and Future King.
The only things going through his head at the time were 'protect', 'kill', 'Arthur', and 'destiny'.
He gave no thought to the fact that, although the knights may appear motionless, they may very well be conscious, yet simply paralysed.
He ran into the clearing, and stood in front of the Prince and his knights; a barrier.
He is the shield, the protector. It is his job to ensure that the Prince of Camelot one day becomes the greatest King that Albion has ever, and would ever, see.
He raises his arm above his head, and aligns it directly with the chest of the creature.
The only conscious though going through his head at the moment is that Prince Arthur may be dead, and this creature must die.
He doesn't even think. His mouth forms no words. He just screams.
He screams so loudly, that he has no doubt the Great Dragon, wherever he may be, can hear it even without the connection of the DragonLords.
He pours all of his anger, his misery, his hurt into this cry, and roars, pure and unsullied magic pours out of his fingertips at an alarming rate.
This shoots out of his hand, and into the belly of the beast, killing it instantly.
The magic surrounds it, creating an almost impossible light, and then disperses. The magic is no more.
Merlin lowers his trembling arm slowly, placing it by his side.
It is only then that he remembers why he is here. He turns slowly to see if Arthur is alright, only to stop dead in his tracks when he sees the brightest shade of blue staring right back at his, the shock and disappointment clear on his face.
It is obvious, according to his own Father's ruling, what needs to be done to this sorcerer.
Sorcerer.
Merlin. Is. A. Sorcerer.
He. Is. Evil.
This is all that is running through his head as he drags the strangely subdued warlock through the front gates of Camelot.
Restrained in chains.
His gaze locks onto that of Prince Arthur's, and he stares defiantly into the face of the man he once considered his master, his best friend, his brother, his destiny.
He sees so many emotions in his eyes, yet his face remains impassive, as is right of a Prince.
He sees betrayal, stemmed from the fact that Merlin has lied to him all this time.
He sees anger. How could Merlin become something so evil?
He sees regret. How could I let my best friend die?
But then, just as quickly, he sees determination take its place. Merlinisasorcerer. Merlinisevil. Merlinmustdie.
He sees confusion, and instead of thinking of the reasons behind this, the Prince himself voices his question.
"Traitor, you stand accused of the crime of magic."
The crowd gasps silently. They have never heard the crowned prince speak at an execution. To do this something must really be wrong.
And yet, the prince continues, oblivious to the turmoil of the crowd. "All I ask is, why stay here? If you are a powerful warlock, and I have seen, why stay in Camelot where your kind is executed? Why did you never tell me? You kept this too yourself for many a year. Why protect me and my knights? What have we done to deserve your help?"
He looks down at Merlin, a daring challenge in his eyes. He doesn't know why Merlin has done what he has; he has only accusations, fruitless assumptions. He can only madly grasp at straws and hope that one of these so called straws is the right reason.
Merlin stares at him, defiance, and acceptance, in his eyes.
"My Prince," he starts, earning shocked whispers from the crowd, and a narrowing of eyes from the entire royal family. "I did not tell you because as you so kindly put it, "My kind is executed in Camelot"."
He stated this without batting an eyelash, challenge evidence in his stance, and even with his limbs restrained; Uther began to feel fear and dread.
This child. No. This man was capable of far more than he let on. He was fearsome as a king, and this man was fearsome as a being of magic.
Uther was scared. For the first time since facing the Great Dragon, he was scared.
He gestured to the knights to light the pyre, before this creature of magic before him brought about his downfall.
This man continued, as though nothing was happening.
"I have stayed in Camelot to ensure that your destiny will be fulfilled. You will become the greatest king that Camelot will ever see. You will unite every kingdom under one banner, and you will become the leader of all Alboin," Merlin does not raise his voice much louder than a whisper, yet the crowd is so silent that, even King Uther in the shadows of the balcony can hear every word. The determination in his voice shows that he not only accepts what he is saying, he truly believes every word spoken.
"I have stayed by your side for so long because it is my destiny to help you become this king. I will protect you with everything that I am. "
He said this even with flames licking at his feet, and he didn't move a muscle. The immense heat from his surroundings created beads of sweat on his forehead, yet he remained unconcerned.
"I am Emrys, the one man with the power to have people bow at my feet, no matter how strong they are, and yet I have remained your servant for years. If this does not tell you of exactly how good I am, considering how much of a prat you are, then I suggest you seek medical attention." Merlin finished this with a bit of his old cheekiness, and his amusement showed on his face. He was allowing some of his former self to shine through.
Arthur, though, was struggling to keep up the pretence of sorcerer is evil, royal family must kill. He didn't ever truly believe that Merlin was ever anything except good, but he couldn't betray his father. He couldn't.
The flames were incredibly high now, the heat reaching up to the balcony. Arthur stepped back away from the searing heat, and was surprised that Merlin could keep up this act of not feeling anything.
What he didn't know, however, was why Merlin was still here, why had he not escaped?" So he voices his question, and he was surprised by his answer.
Merlin's quietly subdued voice answered him.
"Arthur, you will be a great king one day, and because of the kindness and courage you have shown me throughout the years, I have sworn to be eternally loyal to you. You are my master, and although I had hoped when you discovered my secret that it would not come to this, your loyalty to your kingdom comes first. I will do whatever you wish, and have always done so in the past. You sentenced me to death, therefore, I shall die."
He said this slightly louder than before. The flames were now above his chest, almost to his face, and they were roaring with such intensity that he had to raise his voice to be heard above them.
Arthur, perplexed, guilt ridden, dejected and disheartened, looked down at Merlin once more.
"But I still don't understand, why stay with me when you knew you would die when I found out? Why protect me? Why become the greatest friend I would ever have?"
Merlin smiled at this, a true, honest smile, as he looked at Arthur.
"Because," he starts, with a single tear threatening to spill over his eyes, "you're worth burning for".
And with a roar from Merlin, the flames increase to an amazing intensity, killing him quickly.
It is not that he feared pain, but that he didn't want to see it reflected in Prince Arthur's eyes.
Moments before his death, he remembers words from the mouth of the Great Dragon, and thinks that there is no more appropriate scenario to fit in with that line that this.
"I always said that he was your destiny Merlin. He was the one you would protect, and he is the man who will become the King of all Albion. He is your destiny. However, I have never once said that you, were his."
So what do you people think? Should I write another chapter where Arthur goes to ask Gauis about Merlin and learns all about what he's done for him? :)