Authors Note: Merlin is not owned by me (as much as I wish it was otherwise). The plot contained within is my own. Please enjoy :).
Torn, Merlin was torn as he watched the two sides fight. Hidden by the shadows he could only watch as, on his left, his companion in this world, Freya fought against the one man he was sworn to protect, Arthur. And to make it worse, if he did anything meaningful, did anything he knew to help, the only way he knew to help, it would mean his death. He clenched and uncletched his fist, as he watched the combatants swirl around the empty courtyard infront of him. A giant winged cat, as black as night, snarling, biting crashing, while Arthur and his men clanked, struck, and dodged. All the time circleing, probing, backing the cat into a corner where they would have even more of an advantage... I've got to do something... even if means my death... Merlin decided. At that moment, he saw a statue of a gargole. Large, made out of stone, and standing, perched on the ledge of a building about sixty feet up it would make the prefect distraction.
