CHAPTER ONE

Iris tried to scream but a blue painted hand silenced her cries. Through the trees, she could see a brigade of men marching and riding horses through a broken a trail. Through her hysteria, Iris saw that they wore the most unusual clothes. They resembled ancient Roman soldiers.

At least her captures had the kindness to cloth her. Iris found herself draped in a dark blue gown stopping just below her ankles, the sleeves flowing past her finger tips. A golden chain hung loosely around her waist, complementing the darkly colored slippers on her feet.

Then without warning, a group of brightly painted men burst from the tree lines only to engage in mortal combat. Iris began to struggle once more at the sight before her. These men were getting ripped to shreds without a single thought against it. Would she share the same end? Or were their other plans in her future?

Iris knew she was dreaming. She had to be having some crazy nightmare. This nights presentation she had been kidnapped by savages. How? She didn't know. Why? She wasn't sure about that either. But isn't that the mystery of dreams? Finding yourself in a strange place, filled with strange people, trying to find a way to wake up?

And suddenly, as if on queue, Iris saw an old man emerge from the mist. He was tall, thin, and he was painted blue like the others. He approached her slowly, walking stick in hand. The man that once held her, had disappeared into the fight. She hadn't even noticed.

"Save your fear for another occasion," he began, "You have no need for it in this moment, Iris."

Her eyes widened. "You know my name," she said to him. "How do you know my name," she nearly yelled at him still plagued with a mixture of fear and confusion.

"You told us," he replied simply.

"I told you, did I?" The old man nodded. "And did you reply with your name?" He nodded once more. "Funny I don't remember our conversation. Care to refresh my memory?"

"I am called Merlin."

"Okay…Merlin," she started, a hint of laughter in her voice, "you want to tell me what I'm doing here."

"You were quite unwell when we found you, Iris," he repeated her name again. "You were plagued with some sort of delirium. We nursed you for days."

"Really," she said in disbelief.

"I had hoped you would have been more cooperative once awakened, but I misread you."

Iris could only look at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Memory loss is a common side effect-"

"Memory loss?" She laughed. "This is absolutely ridiculous. I'm not quite sure what exactly is happening here, but I don't like it." Iris took a deep breath before continuing. "I don't know if I'm have some kind of weird dream, or if I've been kidnapped, or…or maybe I'm being punked. I have no idea. So, I can only hope you understand my frustration."

Merlin offered her a small smile before he began to speak. "I know where you come from, Iris. You are not dreaming, though I can imagine why you must think such things."

"And you can guarantee me that," she asked him. Deep down she truly hoped she was asleep. Merlin nodded his answer. "So, I've been kidnapped then," she stated, unsure of herself.

"No," he replied. "You have not been snatched from your home. You have been brought here-"

"Brought against my will! That's called kidnapping," she clarified quickly.

"But not in the sense you believe," he countered. "You have not been taken to procure ransom or to satisfy someone's cruel passions. You were brought here to aid Britain in it's quest for freedom and unity."

Iris waited a few seconds before she spoke. "Let me see if I understand you properly, and please correct me if I'm wrong." She cleared her throat before she began again. "You, Merlin, the magician Merlin," it was the only Merlin Iris had ever heard of, "have brought me through time to help win a war…?"

"I wouldn't have used some may words, but yes. You are correct."

Iris laughed, knowing one of her friends was just fooling around. But when no one jump from the bushes and the unwavering stare on the old man face remained, her laughter stopped. She shook her head trying to make sense of it. But she knew it wouldn't come because it made no sense.

Time travel? Impossible. Merlin the Magician? Even more impossible. He was just a fictional character from Arthurian legend, wasn't he?

"Come." Merlin grasped her arm, pulling her along with him. "We haven't much time."

"Wait a second," she halted him, "I'm not a warrior. I can't help you. You sent back the wrong girl." Merlin continued to pull her along, stopping when she finally asked the only question worth answering. "Why me?" He turned around to face her, allowing her to continue. "What's so damn special about me?"

Iris turned her head in the direction of the old man's hand. It pointed towards the bloody massacre just before them.

"I hope you don't expect me to go out their," she said, amusement noted in her voice. The old man's face showed nothing. She looked back at the battle and instantly cringed. "That man just got him damn head chopped off! Are you insane? I can't go out their. I'll be killed. I don't know how to fight."

"You will learn."

"And who the hell is going to teach me? You and your wooden stick!"

"He will."

"He who," she asked through clenched teeth, annoyed with the old man.

"Lancelot."