Starts with Lancelot's point of view of the prologue, then continues the story.

I forgot to mention that this story is a bit AU only because I've altered some events. Uther is dead thus Arthur is the King, but Lancelot is still alive. Since this is fanfiction I can save characters that died in canon and so I'm deciding Lancelot did not die or he came back, whichever you feel more logical. The point is that he is alive.

Also WARNING: This story will turn a bit more angsty and will deal with torture and suicide attempt and self-hurt. I will of course put a warning on the chapters which have these and I won't go into details about it. However that doesn't mean it cannot trigger memories. So anyone who is sensitive about these subjects or at risk of being triggered, think carefully before you read. I won't go into too severe a detail, but it will still be angsty and possibly triggery.

Those who decide to read anyhow, thank you and I hope you'll enjoy.

Lancelot was one of the first people to witness Merlin's magic. One of the first people who could potentionally end Merlin's life with only a few words. But Merlin was his friend and had stood by him and had done nothing but help others. He had seen Merlin's heart before anything else he discovered about him. So when he bore witness to Merlin's magic all that time ago, he had not felt even a shred of fear of him. Merlin had saved him from what would surely have been his death and he'd done it without a thought for his own safety. If the spell hadn't worked, or Lancelot had not been so kind, or if anyone else has seen!

Over the years he'd been witness to many occassions of Merlin using his magic. Always he'd tried to protect his friend, help him distract Arthur and anyone else who did not know and could not know yet. Every single occassion Lancelot had been in awe about Merlin's magic, his control, his ingenuity. He didn't think Merlin could surprise him anymore with magic, for he'd witnessed so much of it already. How wrong he was.

Merlin's display of magic right here and now had him all but quaking in his boots. Not because he feared Merlin, but simply because of the sheer power that could be felt. He'd known Merlin was powerful and had heard of the prophecy of the druids and had no doubt Merlin was indeed the Emrys they believed him to be. But never had he truly witnessed the power of Emrys, he now realized. Always needing to be careful, always looking over his shoulder, always thinking how best to help yet not draw attention. Merlin had always used his magic with a certain restraint.

That restraint was gone now. His magic known and accepted, Merlin could use it as he needed to its full power and he did not hold back. Lancelot finally saw Merlin, saw Emrys rise in front of him as Merlin braced the inferno without hesitation or a thought for himself. Lancelot's skin crackled with the magic surrounding them and he could feel the heat of the flames as they crashed into Merlin's hand and stopped advancing. His gasp was mirrored by the other knights beside him. If anyone ever had any doubt of Merlin's loyalty, or his courage, Lancelot would wish them to see him standing here now. The look on Merlin's face, that strong determination to stop the flames, to protect those behind him, would even have convinced Uther Pendragon, had he been fortunate enough to witness it.

The next few moments happened so fast Lancelot could barely recognise what was happening. One moment they were standing in awe witnessing Merlin's shield, for that was the only thing he could think to name it, the next he and his fellow knights and Arthur were blown back by a powerful wave of magic. The fierce feeling of protecting accompanied the wave and Lancelot knew it was Merlin's magic. Merlin had all but shoved them back feeling he needed to put more space between himself and them and that could only mean one thing. Merlin couldn't hold the shield!

Lancelot saw, with fear curling in his stomach, as the fire surrounded his friend and the magic shield, the protective bubble started to fade. Merlin screamed then and it was the most horrifying thing he'd ever heard. Merlin in pain was something so unnatural, went against everything they believed. Merlin may be the most powerful of them all, but he invoked a strong desire to protect him in the knights and Arthur.

It was Arthur's scream that broke through his stunned state and soon he found himself and his fellow knights screaming along for what else could they do. They were powerless to do anything and even as Merlin screamed with the flames burning his skin, Lancelot knew he would find the strength to keep them all back, to keep them away from harm even if that meant his own death.

"MERLIN!"

Merlin blocked out everything that went on around him. His entire focus was on the flames slowly encircling him and his shield flickering in and out of existence unable to bear the toll of the raging inferno. Yet still Merlin kept pushing more of his magic, forcing it from deep inside him, knowing it to be there. Oh it would hurt, terribly so, to push his own boundaries, but he wasn't Emrys for not. He could do this and he would. There was nothing holding him back now, he was free to use his entire strength and he would not fail Arthur now. He'd used this much power before, but even then with Arthur not present or unconscious -free to use his magic to its full extend- there was always a nagging fear, always a barely existent restraint. What if Arthur found him? What if Arthur woke up? It had never happened, but the fear had been there. Now no such fear existed. The only fear Merlin felt was the fear that Arthur would rush forward into the flames and he could not let it happen.

The pain suddenly assaulted him and he knew he had to act soon or he would perish where he stood. Merlin couldn't help his screams from ripping free, and guilt clawed at him knowing how much his screams would hurt his friends. But he couldn't think about them now, couldn't let himself get distracted. The flames burned his skin, his clothing mixing together with his skin. Arthur's scream nearly tore at Merlin's focus, filtering through the silence he'd created around himself. Without a conscious thought Merlin forced part of his magic behind him creating an invisible barrier to keep him back, to keep Arthur from harm. He vaguely heard the knights join Arthur's screams for him but he could not spare them another thought for he could feel his life force slipping away, his muscles weakening, his legs all but buckling beneath him unable to keep his weight much longer. Merlin focused deep inside him. He called upon his magic, felt it wrap itself around him and with a final terrible scream he unleashed what was left of his magic.

The blast that spread through the woods was powerful enough to uproot several trees, sprawl the knights and Arthur flat on the ground the air pushed out of their bodies and pressing into them almost painfully. But it also did what Merlin intended. The flames all but extinguished from the sheer force, Merlin could hear the terrible screeches of the creature that had brought forth the flames. Birdlike body with red eyes, no bigger than a wyvern struggled to get up, screeching and growling. Smoke rose from its skin and the smell of burned flesh was pungent in the air. It still lived, but was unable to do any harm.

Relieve rushed through Merlin at the knowledge that Arthur was safe, that his friends were safe and it seemed that was all the incentive his body needed as he suddenly collapsed and fell face-down into the charred ground beneath him.

Quiet footsteps walked slowly through the charred remains of the woods. Though not as charred as if fire had passed through, there was still quite some damage to this small part of the woods. Big and small trees lay uprooted on the ground while some others had broken in half. A small patch of the forest floor looked burned, black and lifeless. Upon that patch lay a young man with raven-black hair, face-down and appearing dead. But he knew better. This young man was what he'd never thought he'd ever see in his life. A myth among his people, a bedtime story to sooth or excite children. The great Emrys of prophecy. Who knew such an insignificant looking boy, a servant to a king, was the greatest sorcerer to ever grace the world.

A pitiful cry drew his attention to his right and he looked in disgust upon his wyvern, scraping on the forest floor trying to stand up. It was severely wounded and would not survive much longer. Emrys had surely done him in good. He glanced over to the unconscious knights and their king and as much as he wished to finish Arthur Pendragon, he had something more important in mind. He stepped towards his wyvern and cast a light healing spell. Enough to sustain the creature for now. If he felt like it, he might heal him further when he had the time.

"Kill them, then return to me!" He ordered his beast, before walking over the Emrys and lifting him onto his horse. "Your power is no longer a myth" he whispered to an unconscious Emrys, a smile on his face. "I will have it for myself!"

The wyvern struggled to its feet as its master rode off at a fast pace. Slowly it turned towards the unconscious bodies in the distance and let out a low growl. Kill them, he'd been told. The blood rushing in his head, the wyvern sprang forward intend to do as it was instructed. It leaped forward intending to pounce on the first body and sinking its claws into the soft flesh when suddenly strong jaws enveloped it before it could land and pain tore through its body as whatever had grabbed him, bit down hard. Its body folded in on itself, broken and ripped in half and tumbled on the ground a short distance from the oblivious humans.

Kilgharrah landed looking around but not finding what he was looking for. Arthur was safe as were his knights, but where was Merlin? He'd heard his dragonlord's call, although not meant for him, he'd still heard it. He guessed Merlin had attempted to command the wyvern he'd just killed, but he knew it must not have worked since it tried to kill Arthur. It was a disturbing riddle. Wyvern, though not dragons were descended from dragons. A dragonlord should have no trouble controlling them. Kilgharrah felt the magic in the air, the remains of a terrible battle and he felt Merlin's presence in the magic strongly. But his kin was not here and he could not sense him anywhere. It was as if he'd vanished from his senses.

I will find you, Merlin, my kin. With his vow strong in his heart and mind, Kilgharrah took to the sky once more, intend on finding his missing dragonlord.