This is the prologue for my newest story, set during the ending of the fourth and the whole fifth season of Merlin. The prologue might seem a bit confusing, but believe me, this is intentional. It is also quite... lengthy, but the real chapters will get shorter and more exciting, I promise.

Prologue

The council had finally given me a new assignment. After two years without orders, I had finally begun to really believe that my time as tale-changer was forever over. I had messed up, and they punished me by taking the second best thing that ever happened in my life away from me. I had been very close to the edge of giving up on me when the order reached me. I had lost the thing most precious to me, was forced to leave him behind, and now I had to re-start in a world that was not mine anymore- and then, finally, they sent me another necklace, another place to go to, a place to start over and do my work again.

But the letter that accompanied the necklace destroyed what little hope I could muster: This was a low-ranked change, a small detail that the council did not like about the whole of the story. It would take me only a few days to rewrite this chapter and then I would have to leave again.

Still, I should be more than thankful they decided to give me another chance. The letter hinted that they might even consider giving me bigger challenges again when I proved myself worthy, but it didn't say how many times I needed to do as they bid me.

When I saw where I was to go, I knew that I would not be able to decline. It was a place I dreamed of many times before, where I wished myself to be even before I knew that tale-changers really existed. For the first time in a really, really long while I caught myself grinning widely.

Camelot.

Wow.

I read the letter from the council again, memorizing every detail, and then burned it. It would be unfortunate if anyone would find it in this world. Knowing what it was like in Camelot, I was most likely going to be executed for being a witch if anyone found the letter on me. This had happened to me once before, a few years back, when I had just started to work for the council, and I remember every excruciating detail about it. Believe me when I say: There are more pleasant ways to die.

To be honest, I would prefer not to die at all. Not again, anyway.

There should not be that great danger of dying in the part of the story I was supposed to change. As I said, it was a low-ranking, minor detail. Nothing bad should happen.

As always, I spent one more night in my birth-world, sleeping in a real, warm bed, mentally getting ready for the task. The next morning I felt better than I had for months. I breakfasted thorough and then dressed in the clothes that had accompanied letter and necklace.

Bracing myself for the well-known unpleasant feeling of stepping into another reality, I took a deep breath and looked around in my room one more time. While I fastened the necklace around my neck, I thought how much I missed my bow. My last thought in the world I was born in, was of my lost love.

Then the necklace did... whatever it did (I never understood the basic physical principles of its science and preferred to call it "magic" instead) and I entered the realm of Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, his faithful so-called servant Merlin, of famous Queen Guinevere, and of Morgana, the evil witch Arthur had yet to face one last time.

As soon as I landed in this world, crouching against a wall, fighting the nausea and the lightness in my head, I knew I was in trouble. Something went utterly, horribly wrong.

Being a tale-changer isn't as easy as it sounds. One would expect us to simply rush in at the moment we are needed, doing what will change the course of the story and then disappear again, without being of any real importance. One would expect us to be the nameless soldier that saves a King's life, by mere accident seemingly, while in the original storyline the king was supposed to die, and then get out without telling anyone about it and wait for the story to just go on.

But it's not as simple as that. It never is. There are various factors that can shape a story, even the smallest things can be of unbelievable importance for all that is to follow. Change one small thing and you can't be sure how in the end it will turn out. As soon as a tale-changer enters the storyboard, nothing will be as it was supposed to. Nothing will really happen as it was destined to be. You know all these things about destiny, right? Well, let me tell you: Destiny? Fate? This is all nonsense. I learned that from experience. It's simply crap.

And so is the job of a tale-changer. Because there are rules that we have to follow. The council tells us what to change, and we obey, without asking why, because if we do, we might disagree. Sometimes it's better not to know.

The changes themselves are in our hands, the council is powerless on it's own to alter anything because the members can't travel between the worlds. They need us because we can. We, meaning about thirty of tale-changers in this generation, have the physical and psychic abilities to survive being ripped out of one reality and thrown into another. We are the ones who do the work, without asking, and the council generously gives us the means to travel into other worlds, changing what they deem best.

I don't know where they come from, or who gave them authority. I never asked. Not before I refusedtheir orders in trying to be with the one I fell in love with.

This is yet another nasty thing about being able to move into a world you liked in TV series, movies or books: You know the characters so well, you know how their stories begin, you know how they end, you know secrets they never told anyone and, most importantly, you know about their hidden feelings and doubts. It is more than easy to fall in love with someone for a tale-changer, because besides the mere capability of moving into other dimensions, you also need some kind of bond to the place you want to go, or otherwise you will end up in the void, the empty space, the not-space as you might call it, and get stuck there. To change a story, you need to know it and cherish it as well as the characters in it. And when you go there, the mere characters become people, become reality. Just imagine it and you get an idea what people like me do.

As I said, it's not simple. So when we did what we were told, we're supposed to get out of the world as soon as possible, so that there is no risk of something, anything, to happen.

I didn't. Once. And this is why the council was reluctant to give me another assignment. They told me that I had got entangled in the story, that I was not fit for service, that I had proven disloyal and irresponsible. I was told to take a break, as long as they thought best, and was dismissed for the time being.

I had not really felt like loosing my job would be that bad. It was not important for me as much as it used to. Because I did not leave his world willingly. I was forced to do so by the dagger that pierced my heart. It wasn't the worst way to die, but my last memory of this world was his face, the expression in his eyes and that is what has tortured me ever since.

There are two ways for one of us to leave a dimension and return to our own world: By use of the necklace, or by getting killed. If we use the necklace, it is theoretically possible to return (even though the council would never allow us to do so). If we get killed, the bond connecting us to the dimension we are killed in will be torn apart, making a return impossible.

You see why I call it crap?

I was stuck in my home-world, without anything to do, without a person to speak to, without anything I was needed to live for, lost in memories that were too painful to look at, for two whole years – well, you get the idea.

That's what being a tale-changer can be like. If anyone in a robe and with a funny necklace ever approaches you, think really hard before you join us. There are jobs that might be less painful. But being able to change a world, even in the smallest details, is also a really awesome thing. You get to live in a world, that should only exist in your fantasy. You can feel, smell, touch things you would never even have dreamed of, you meet people – yes, real, living, breathing, talking people – and it is in your hands to change their destinies or die trying.

It can be really terrible. It can be painful. If I had followed the rules, rules I always hated, I would not be in the situation I am in now. I guess there is a reason for their existence after all. But even though it brought me pain, this job was also what had enabled me to meet him in the first place. As every other existing job, it has a good side and a bad one.

I quickly discernedthat I was in the castle yard and that there were many people assembled, not bustling around as they would usually do. There were knights of Camelot in full armor on the stairs, together with the royal servants. My heart quickened as I saw the red cloaks with the dragon crest on them. How many times had I pictures myself to be seeing them in real? The knights looked just as I had hoped they would: Proud, stern-faced men.

But something was going on that I couldn't wholly see, standing so close to the wall as I did. Then I saw him. Arthur. Or rather, King Arthur, walking down the steps, cloaked, complete with the crown, looking every inch as impressive and awesome as I thought he would, followed by a lady in white, with a crown on her head, too, and a coat of fur. My breath caught in my throat. No, I thought, no, this is wrong. I'm not supposed to be here. This is the wrong time! This is the wrong story.

I knew the face of the lady, of course: It was Princess Mithian, on her way back home after Arthur broke off their brief engagement.

I could hear them talking, but I was too upset to understand much.

I already knew anyway that there would be no war over Gedref, as Arthur would renounce Camelot's claim on this land. I stared in disbelief. This was just wrong. I was not supposed to arrive here. Or in this time. Something must have gone wrong either with me or the necklace. Had I not thought about my destination when I was transporting...? No, if I was honest, I had not. I had thought about my bow. And about him. And here I was, just in time to hear Mithian say: "I would give up my own kingdom to be so loved."

I quickly withdraw back to the wall, trying to recover my composure. This should have been easy, in, change this small thing, get out again. But here I was, years to early for what I was supposed to do because I had not been thinking about my mission when I transported here.

The rules in this case were clear: Get the hell out of the story before you change anything, meet anyone, touch anything that might have something to do with the end of the story. But to get back to my own world would mean to be at the mercy of the council, again. This had been my last chance to prove myself worthy and I failed. It really was that easy, to be honest. I had failed. No matter what I did, from now on I was no tale-changer anymore.

Great. So much for "Nothing bad should happen".

Mithian mounted her horse and her knights followed her as she rode out of Camelot, looking back at Arthur one more time. The knights waited until she was out of sight, then they started moving again. Some of them went back into the castle, others were on their way to the upper town, presumably to The Rising Sun to get drinks.

I stayed beside the wall and tried to think. There was no way out of it: Either I went back home, lost what little faith the council had left in me, and started to get a life in the world I was born in, or I stayed here, in Camelot, doomed to keep away from people to prevent myself from changing anything of real importance, until I died or was killed. And this would bring me back to my own world anyway, and there I would be forced to...

I never had a chance to decide on my own. I hadn't paid attention to my surroundings, something a tale-changer should never do, and hadn't seen him approach me. Suddenly he stood right in front of me, with a worried expression I had come to know very well while watching the series on TV, and asked: "Are you alright? Can I help you with something?"

I shook my head, silently praying to all the many deities I had gotten used to in different dimensions for him to go away again and forget about me, but the young man stayed and, even worse, extending his hand toward me to help me up, saying: "My name is Merlin."

A/N: First, I have to thank BookLoverDutch for allowing me to use her term "tale-changer" for my own story. This would not be possible without your permission! Thanks!

Sadly, I do not own anything, except my OC and the changes I'll make to the story.

The story will have 30 chapters + Pro- and Epilogue.

I'm not a native speaker - so I do hope you can forgive horrid things I do to this lovely language!

I hope that you liked the prologue! Reviews are very welcome, as always, and I'd like to know what you're thinking.