Chapter 2

Warning/s: Just a little bit of…horror? I'm not sure what to call it. Weird trippy stuff, basically.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

A/N: Sorry this has taken a long time – I won't bore you with any excuses but hopefully my updates will be more regular now. Thanks to everyone who's following so far – I hope I won't disappoint!

Anyway, I'll let you get on with reading now, and please drop me a review :)

Merlin awoke the next morning with a strange shuddering sensation. His body, right down to his bones, was tingling with an odd, chiming feeling, his muscles were taut and difficult to move and his skin was paler than its usual hue. For him, that was more alarming than usual, as he was the colour of a corpse at his best. Now he was practically luminous, and under closer inspection, his skin looked to be sparkling somehow, catching the dim light streaming through his window whenever he moved slightly.

Nevertheless, Merlin kicked the covers from his legs, noting the way that his legs felt heavy when they were raised in the air, as if they were covered in a fine layer of lead. He let them drop back down to his thin, hard mattress with a muffled thump and laid in bed for a while longer, staring up at his roughly-decorated, cracked ceiling.

He must be going insane – the ceiling was glittering as well, just like his arm, a subtle shining. In fact, now that he had noticed the ceiling, the rest of his room was glinting as well. Merlin concluded that it was just his eyesight in the faint lighting of his room, so he stood – pretending that he hadn't noticed the residual ache throughout his body – and headed to his wardrobe. The door was heavier than usual and Merlin had to heave to open it, but put it down to tiredness.

He felt nauseated all of a sudden, when he stepped into the main room of his chambers; there was suddenly an oppressive block of heat that he smashed into like a solid brick wall, unusual in this weather. The storm was still ongoing, or perhaps it was a different storm that had replaced the initial one sometime when he was unconscious.

His eyes stung like they were being pricked by nettles – everything was glittering and shimmering where the light caught it. It caused a strange, underwater-like effect to appear on everything he looked at, but Merlin found that he was not able to direct his gaze upon anything. As soon as he tried to focus on an object, no matter how big or small, it slipped from his eyes, slithering away.

The feeling was not dissimilar to being ill. Alas, Gaius was not back to prepare him a tonic or at least something to dull the pain that sat beneath his eyes, so he headed back to his room gingerly and pulled his usual clothes on.

Arthur frowned over his papers as his servant stumbled into his chambers. He was almost an hour late for work, and although Merlin was customarily late by now, it was not usually by such a large stretch of time. He was starkly-white, like virgin snow, and his eyes seemed like deep coals sunk into his skull, even with their bright cobalt irises.

He didn't greet Arthur with one of his habitual annoyingly cheerful phrases; nor did he even look Arthur in the eyes, but kept his head faced downwards and his eyes glued to the floor. "Morning," Arthur tried, but elicited no response from his servant. Instead, the younger man shuffled towards the unmade bed and began to slowly, painfully readjust the covers.

"The storm's still raging on," Gwen commented as she stepped out from behind the wicker dressing-screen, her velvet dress trailing on the floor and rustling softly. She smiled at Merlin, but then her smile transformed into a frown when she had no grin in reply, and glanced at Arthur.

"It is," Arthur agreed, and shrugged to inform Guinevere that he knew nothing of Merlin's behaviour, or at least no more than she.

Merlin straightened up from the bed. In his arms were the covers of the bed that were soiled with dirt or sweat or other things that he didn't wish to think about, especially not now when he was feeling queasy already. His head was spinning worse than before and the shimmering that he could see on everything was becoming clearer and clearer, brighter and shinier. He wondered whether he was going mad as he left Arthur and Gwen's chambers in search of the laundry room.

He headed down the corridor and a flight of stairs, pressing his lips firmly together, for fear that words would not be the only things that erupted from his mouth if they were to open. Luckily the windows that lined the corridors of the castle were wide open and the gentle breeze drifted in, caressing Merlin's burning skin pleasantly and bringing his head some relief as he sucked the refreshing air in through his nose.

He deposited the sheets in the laundry room and left as quickly as he could: the laundry room always stank of filth and sweat, and the soap they used was made from pigs' fat – hardly the most inviting stench in the world. He often mused upon how the laundry maids were able to do this job day in, day out without vomiting at least once a week. Then again, maybe they did – he should mention upping their pay to Arthur when he had the opportunity.

With a deep sigh that only he heard, Merlin trooped back to his workplace, each step sending a pulsating pain through his body and each ray of light that poured in through the windows sending a fresh wave of pain to his head.

Gaius was still not back from his duties; for once, Merlin was grateful for this as he bolted back into his quarters. Running was not a pleasant task but it was necessary: as soon as Merlin reached his room and was able to grab the nearest bucket in sight, he emptied the contents of his stomach. He retched noisily, thankful that there was nobody else around to see him in his disgrace.

His throat burned when he was done, and even the tepid water that he had in a bronze cup by his bed did nothing to soothe the scorching. Merlin staggered into his bed without bothering to undress into pyjamas, or even kick off his boots for that matter, and so tired was he from the day's events that he was asleep within seconds.

A creature, with wings like a raven's and eyes like an owl's but the body of a monstrous beast, flew by him. Its mouth opened in a wide, mocking grin and then it had vanished in a puff of foul-smelling smoke.

A spear withdrew from the now empty air and a horribly mutilated man stood holding it, a lopsided grin upon his scarred and askew face. When he opened his eyes, they were pure gold, completely covered in the noble colour and unseeing, yet his gaze focused on Merlin. From his mouth poured a string of strange, chanting words which made no sense, yet spoke all of the truths of the universe.

Merlin understood but was completely baffled. He let himself sink through the floor and fell into another world, another dimension. This one had no morphed or misshapen monsters, only naked men and women who were of a pure, dazzling white and stared at him with their milky eyes.

"Where am I?" Merlin wondered aloud, looking around him. The men and women stopped and stared, and then all at once opened their mouths and hissed Do not speak here.

Their eyes rolled back into their heads and from the empty sockets poured insects, insects with a thousand legs and spiders the size of his head and some that Merlin had never seen before. Just as they scuttled towards him, Merlin awoke with a start, bathed in sweat and the feeling of a million scuttling arthropod legs on him.

A/N: Has anyone got goodreads? I have a link to mine on my profile, please add me as a friend if you have it! And if you don't, I seriously recommend getting it!