The Labyrinth

"How do you get out of the labyrinth of suffering?"
—John Green.

Merlin.

Merlin woke up with sunlight on his face, groaning. He turned on his bed to cover his eyes with his pillow, but he could only feel dirt beneath him. Not his mattress or the pillow. And thinking about it, he couldn't even feel the covers over himself either.

That woke him up.

The warlock pushed himself to his feet, analysing his surroundings. He was in a dead end, a sort of… street, maybe? Well, it wasn't any street in Camelot, that much he knew. Merlin turned around, and saw a way out of this dead end of his. So, of course, he walked out. He could either turn left or right. He went right. As he kept walking, he realised this wasn't any street or any city — it was a labyrinth. It had to be, there was nothing else that fit.

"Gaius?!" he screamed, trying to catch someone's attention, hoping he wasn't alone. "Gaius!" he continued. "Arthur!? Niamh?!"

"Merlin?!" He heard someone shouting from afar. Following the voice, he ran towards the person. It turned out to be Niamh, who he bumped against, almost making her fall down. He reached out to grab her before she could hit the ground.

"You're okay." Merlin couldn't keep the relief out of his voice. "Do you know where we are?" The brunette shook her head. He knew this was a long shot. If the same thing had happened to both of them, then she was as clueless as he was. But anyway, it was worth a try.

"No idea. I thought I was alone," she admitted.

"Do you know why we're here?" he asked, and she shook her head once more.

"I don't know anything. I just woke up a few minutes ago," she told him.

"Me too."

They heard someone scream. Exchanging a look, they took off running towards the source of the voice.

Guinevere.

When Guinevere saw where she was, she screamed. Naturally, she hadn't meant to. She just hadn't expected to wake up surrounded by high hedge walls. She had absolutely no idea where she was or what she was doing, which naturally made her scream in the first place.

Quickly, she realised her mistake. She couldn't possibly be alone. There had to be someone — or something — else around. Friend or foe. Most probably foe.

Gwen stood up and left the place, considering that the best course of action, but then found herself with different pathways possible, and she figured out where she was. A labyrinth.

"Oh God," she said the words before she could stop herself. And then she heard running. Before she took off in another direction, she recognised the two figures running towards her. She felt slightly relieved at knowing she wasn't alone, and that her friends were there.

"Merlin! Niamh!" She ran towards them. She knew she could trust them. Merlin had only recently arrived to Camelot, but in the short time he'd been there he'd managed to win everyone's trust — including Arthur Pendragon's. Niamh, however, she'd known for around ten years, give or take, ever since Gaius had taken her in once her village was raided by bandits. Gwen and Niamh had become close friends during that time, and the maid knew that Niamh was one of the most trustworthy people she'd ever met.

"Gwen!" Niamh hugged the distressed maidservant. "Gwen, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. How did we get here? What—"

Merlin cut her off. "We don't know anything. We woke up moments ago." Just like me, then, she thought.

"We should keep moving," Niamh recommended, voicing Gwen's earlier thoughts, and the servant nodded. "We're probably not the only ones who heard the scream." She did not, however, mention that it might be someone trying to kill them. She supposed that part was slightly obvious.

"Right." Merlin nodded, and took off in a random direction. The two women followed him.

Arthur.

Arthur woke up because of the sunlight practically hitting him in the face, and he cursed his manservant Merlin. Of course, as soon as he opened his eyes, he realised this had nothing to do with the big-eared idiot that annoyed Arthur so much.

He stood up to admire his surroundings. Surely the perfectly good weather — there wasn't even a cloud in the sky — was the complete opposite of what waking up in the middle of a maze meant. He set off trying to find his way out.

After walking for God knows how long, he noticed someone walking towards him. He took a while to figure out who the person was, considering the sun was blinding him.

"Arthur?" He heard the person's voice. It sounded extremely familiar.

"Amena," he realised.

"Arthur," Amena repeated, relieved. Once they were close enough to see each other, they began asking each other the typical questions (Where are we? How did we get here? Who brought us here? Why are we here?) only to answer each other with the typical answer (I don't know). Then they both set off trying to find their way out of the bloody thing.

It wasn't their first adventure together — what with Cantre'r Gwaelod and all — but this time none of them had any idea of where they were or what was lurking about in this maze. They went back to working together in the same way they had before. It consisted mainly of walking and picking a direction to go on, but on a rather deep level, they eased themselves into the companionship of their previous adventure as they walked about the labyrinth.

Lancelot.

Lancelot didn't know where he'd woken up, but it was certainly not where he'd gone to sleep the night before. The former knight, after trying and failing to recognise the place he was in, decided to have a look at the blasted thing and started walking along. He felt defenceless without his sword, but he thought he could manage to stay alive long enough to find an exit or a weapon.

He found Arthur and another woman after walking around for a while. He discovered the woman was Princess Amena of Deira. Just like him, both blonds had no idea where they were, how or why. Sticking together was probably the best idea, and soon the three of them continued on their way to find the exit.

Morgana.

Gwen wasn't there when Morgana woke up, which was strange considering how responsible and thoughtful the maid was. Then she went to see Arthur, who had been sleeping in his room. She was told by a knight that soon came in that nobody had managed to wake him up, as if he were in a coma or something. Worried and confused, Morgana went to see Gaius, who told her the same thing had happened to both of his wards. And later, the King's ward found out the same thing had happened to Princess Amena. Now she was sure if she went to check Gwen's house, she would find the maid in the exact same position.

After consulting with Gaius about what could've possibly happened, she decided to tell this to the King. After all, what else could she do in this situation?

Niamh.

Their walk would've been silent, had it not been for Merlin there, constantly trying to cheer them up. Niamh kept the conversation going, trying to make Gwen feel better, but the maid was lost in her thoughts, too shocked, perhaps, to engage in a conversation with her friends. Niamh knew the feeling.

They walked into a slightly bigger section than others, which also happened to be round-ish. In the centre were three swords. They exchanged a glance, and each of them took one, even Gwen.

"These must be here for a reason," Merlin said.

"We might have company." And not the good kind, Niamh added in her mind. Though they'd already figured that out, or at least supposed it when they'd followed Guinevere's scream.

"We should keep moving," Gwen told them. "Try to find a way out."

She was right, of course. So they did. But after walking and walking, they eventually got too tired to continue and took a break, sitting down on the dirt. Gwen was looking up at the walls, a question in her eyes. Niamh waited for her to ask.

"Do you think those hedges will support me?" she wondered.

"I don't know… Why? Do you want to climb them?" Merlin asked. Gwen nodded. "What for?"

Niamh understood. "Seeing a labyrinth from up there must be easier than to try and find our way out from here," she explained. The maid nodded. She stood up and tried to start climbing the hedges. Tried being the keyword. She seemed to be stuck in there.

"Um, Merlin? Niamh? I'm stuck," she confirmed Niamh's fears. Then the hedge started pulling her in. For a moment, the sorceress could only watch in shock as her best friend started disappearing.

"Oh God." The brunette scrambled to her feet, and grabbed Gwen's disappearing arm. It didn't help: she was pulled along instead. "Merlin!" she yelled for help. The warlock reacted immediately. Considering her extremities had already disappeared in the hedge, Merlin grabbed her around the waist and pulled her out. She tried tightening her grip on the maid's arm, but it was as if Gwen had never been there in the first place.

Then the hedge let her go, and Merlin fell back at the sudden release. Niamh ended up on top of him, her blue eyes meeting his, both trying to catch their breaths. The brunette was the first one to pull away, her thoughts going back to her disappeared friend.

"We need to find Gwen." She cast a last glance at the hedge, then grabbed her sword, which was inside its sheath. Niamh attached the belt around her waist, the sheath hanging from it. Merlin nodded, and they both took off running, this time trying to find their friend instead of an exit.

Guinevere.

When Guinevere woke up once again, she screamed. Not because she did not know where she was, or where Merlin and Niamh were, but because of the monster in front of her. At first glance it looked like a regular man. Then she got a look at his head. It was the head of a bull. Its eyes were focused on her, a sneer on its face — if bulls could sneer, at least. There were blue glowing tattoos all over its naked chest and on its cheeks, and Guinevere felt herself scrambling to her feet to get away by running backwards, unable to take her eyes off of the creature.

Then she noticed the weapons he carried. He had a longsword in his right hand, and a big axe in the other, the handle red, which reminded her of the blood that could be spilt by it. What a nice thought.

She tried to back off, but she soon found both weapons pointed at her. She scrambled to get her sword out, but with the opponent's sword pointed at her neck, she could barely move.

As she waited for it to finish her off, she heard footsteps and the fear in her chest increased, but so did hope. Could it be Merlin and Niamh?

An arrow embedded itself in the creature's forehead, and she knew it wasn't her friends. Yet hope did not decrease. Why would they attack the monster if they were on its side?

The creature pulled its sword away to remove the arrow off its forehead, and Gwen didn't hesitate. She ducked past the axe that had been threatening to embed itself into the back of her neck, and ran towards her saviours. She hadn't expected them to be here, but she was certainly grateful. Arthur, Amena and — surprise — Lancelot were there. The prince had a sword in his hand and a lance in the other, just like Lancelot, while Amena had a crossbow in her hands. The latter had probably been the one to save her. She reached them, and was immediately pulled back along with Amena.

Lancelot and Arthur charged the creature, then. There was little she could do besides watching them risk their lives to kill it. She did draw her sword, but stayed back with the blonde princess.

"Thank you," Gwen told her.

"It's nothing. I'm guessing you woke up as disoriented as we did?"

Gwen nodded "I was with Merlin and Niamh, when the hedge swallowed me and I ended up here," she explained.

"Well, good thing you screamed, or we wouldn't have found you here," the princess commented, the unsaid words clear in the maidservant's mind: or else you would be dead. Gwen nodded once more, unable to speak under that realisation.

They watched the two men fighting off the monster on their own, at first easily, then with increasing difficulty: they were getting tired. The creature seemed to have unlimited strength and resilience, because when Arthur and Lancelot finally decided to retreat, it hadn't even been scratched.

Merlin.

Merlin and Niamh didn't know where they were going, but they knew what — who, actually — they wanted to find. They tried climbing the hedge, either to get a better look at the labyrinth or to get swallowed by it, but none of it worked. It was as if they were magically pushed off the walls, the complete opposite of what had happened to Guinevere.

"Where now?" Niamh asked when they stumbled on another crossroads.

"Left," Merlin decided. They took off once more, jogging, almost running.

They turned left again: dead end. They should've turned right. Already retracing their steps, Merlin was pulled back by Niamh. By the time they'd gone back to the crossroads and had taken the right direction, they were panting. The sorcerers slowed down to recover, but continued on their way, when they heard the typical noises of a fight. Exchanging a glance, they started running again, hoping to get there in time to help their friends.

Then they heard Arthur's unmistakable voice yelling "Retreat", and Merlin immediately sped up, leaving Niamh slightly behind, trying to catch up with him. They stumbled across Amena, Guinevere — thank God she was safe! — Lancelot — wait, what was he doing here? — and Arthur, who came last, trying to distract a monster. Said monster had the body of a man — a very fit one, at that — and the head of a bull. He had two weapons in his hand: an axe and a sword. Or at least until he threw his large red axe towards the prince's head.

"Arthur!" Merlin yelled and pushed the blond to the ground, successfully avoiding the weapon.

"Merlin! What are you doing here?"

Merlin didn't answer, he had no idea himself. Instead he pushed himself to his feet and dragged Arthur with him in the direction their friends had gone.

Morgana.

Uther had sent out his knights to find the sorcerer. The King's ward had remained in the castle. The wait was unbearable; she grew more and more impatient as time went by. Wandering about the castle, the lady's feet took her to Arthur's room. When she got there, however, she found something she hadn't wanted to see. There was a gash on the left side of his stomach, blood pouring out of it, tinting the sheets red.

Morgana stepped back subconsciously, before running towards the door. Outside were two guards. After all, with the Prince in a coma, they had to make sure no one would come in and finish the job.

"Go fetch Gaius, quickly!" she ordered one of them, who nodded and ran off to the physician's quarters. Morgana went back to Arthur's side. The gash hadn't been there earlier. What had happened? Surely no one had come in. The Prince's chambers were heavily guarded. The only way someone could've come in was through the window, and even if they had managed to climb their way to them, these were closed, Morgana had checked. So how? How had this happened?

Arthur.

They were running away from the beast who, strangely enough, wasn't following them. The running was just a precaution, yet a necessary one. Lancelot was the one who led the way, followed by Guinevere, Niamh, Amena, Merlin and, finally, Arthur. The latter was getting more and more tired by the minute. He usually had good resistance, but apparently not today.

Soon, they took a break from the running, to catch their breaths. Guinevere was keeping away from the hedges; Niamh and Merlin seemed to as well. Arthur wondered why.

"Arthur." Amena's surprised yet worried tone brought him out of his thoughts. "You're hurt."

"What? I'm not." Arthur gave her a weird look. He didn't even feel pain. Just a small sting. He followed Amena's gaze to the lower left part of his red shirt and saw a brown stain that was quickly increased in size.

"I think you are," Merlin commented. "Niamh?" The brunette approached, but before she could do anything, the stain simply stopped getting bigger. The physician's apprentice lifted the Prince's shirt slightly, but saw no blood pouring out of the wound.

"That's odd," she commented. "There's nothing restricting the wound, you should be bleeding to death by now."

"I should—argh!" Suddenly, he could feel the pain coming from his wound, and he lurched forwards. Merlin grabbed his shoulders to steady him. "When did this happen?"

"When you were fighting with the Minotaur, probably," Niamh answered.

"A Minotaur? Is that what the creature is called?" Lancelot asked.

"Yes, it's an old myth from Hellas." At their confused looks, she added, "A kingdom in the Peninsula of Haemus — far away from here. Basically, the myth says that he was imprisoned by King Minos in a labyrinth, and was sent seven young women and seven young men, every year. Until one day, Theseus, one of the young men, managed to defeat the Minotaur with an enchanted poignard and found his way out thanks to a magical thread given to him by a woman named Ariadne." Something told Arthur she knew more about the story, but he shrugged it off. Surely it was something irrelevant, like where the Minotaur came from and whatnot.

"How do you know all this?" Arthur asked her. It's not like the Prince of Camelot knew her well — in fact, he barely did — but he hadn't expected her to know so much about mythological creatures.

The brunette shrugged. "I read a lot, whenever I'm not helping Gaius."

"This still doesn't answer the question. Why isn't Arthur bleeding to death right now?" Merlin asked, and Arthur glared at him.

"I didn't know you wanted me dead so badly, Merlin."

"I thought it was obvious! I wouldn't have to wash those socks of yours anymore," the warlock joked.

"Merlin!"

"Maybe we're not here at all," Amena said out of the blue, catching everyone's attention.

"What do you mean?" Guinevere asked.

"Think about it, the castle is heavily guarded. How could Arthur and I be here?" Amena asked. "Maybe this is like a dream, only we can actually die here."

"It makes sense. And if there's someone at the castle who's aware of it, it would explain why his wound isn't bleeding: Gaius must've taken care of it," Niamh reasoned.

"But Lancelot and I aren't exactly in the castle," Gwen pointed out.

"Which is why you must be very careful," Amena told them.

"This must be the work of a sorcerer," Arthur concluded. "My father will have him executed."

"It might not be enough." Niamh shook her head.

"Maybe this is like your Hellenic myth. Maybe we must defeat the Minotaur to be able to leave," Lancelot reasoned.

"It's not like we can, we cannot use magic." Not that Arthur would even if he could. After all, magic was evil.

"There's no need for magic," Niamh said, "as long as it pierces the Minotaur's heart."

"We should keep moving in case it comes after us," Merlin proposed. Everyone agreed and soon started moving.

"Oh, and, Merlin?" Arthur started. "My socks are clean."

"Yeah, that's 'cos I wash them. Otherwise—"

"Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up," the prince ordered.

Niamh.

It wasn't the first time Niamh had lied to the prince of Camelot. She had lied before — and not only to the prince —, especially when it concerned magic, and ever since Merlin had arrived to Camelot, she'd started lying even more, covering up for the young man. She'd even lied to Guinevere, her best friend. Not just about Merlin, but about her own magic and her past. Her so-called village had been in fact a druid camp. And only she had managed to get out alive. Gaius had told her to lie about it, even if she yearned to tell her best friend.

Niamh was accustomed to lying, yet it still bothered her, though she tried to cover it up. Merlin and Niamh were left behind, with Arthur walking beside Amena.

"You lied, didn't you?" Merlin whispered to her.

Niamh nodded. "You saw what happened when they were fighting. They retreated and the Minotaur didn't even have a scratch on him."

She did have a point, and Merlin seemed to recognise it, for he nodded, rather reluctantly. "I don't know a spell for this," he admitted. "Do you?"

"You seem to forget that I've had to repress my magic for most of my life. Healing magic is the only thing I've allowed myself to practice — and even then, I don't know much." That was the curse of growing up in Camelot. Sure, she knew a thing or two about magic, that wasn't about healing, but nothing like this. She hadn't exactly been interested either, wanting to keep the lying to a minimum. But now, with every passing moment, she wished she hadn't been that stubborn.

Merlin paused. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'll think of something."

Just then, everyone else seemed to stop walking. Arthur and Lancelot walked away from the small group to discuss something in private, and Niamh could see Merlin itching to join them.

"Why have we stopped?" Niamh asked Gwen and Princess Amena.

"They want to go back and face the Minotaur," Gwen explained.

"What?" Merlin demanded, trying — and failing — to keep the alarm out of his voice. Niamh understood: they needed more time.

"This is not a good idea," Niamh intervened. "At least not immediately. They need to gather strength before facing it again. They barely got out alive the first time."

"You're right," Amena agreed. "But there's nothing we can do to change Arthur's mind. You know how stubborn he is." Merlin let out a rather unhappy sound of agreement.

"And there's no way Lancelot would let Arthur face the Minotaur on his own," Gwen added.

"Am—Princess Amena, surely there's something you can do to delay Arthur?" Merlin asked.

"I've already tried, I'm sorry." Exactly how much of the others' conversation had the two sorcerers missed? "But maybe you can change his mind."

Merlin shook his head. "He didn't listen to you, he won't listen to me."

"I know it might seem hard to believe, what with Arthur's usual attitude, but he really does value your opinion, Merlin," Amena told him.

"Not when it comes to fighting."

Their conversation was cut short when Arthur and Lancelot came back. Arthur told them they should stay where they were, to avoid being harmed, while Amena pointed out that if they separated, they might not find each other again. Gwen, Niamh and Merlin had immediately agreed with her.

"I'm afraid they're right, sire," Lancelot had said.

The Prince of Camelot had no choice but to grudgingly agree. And soon they were tracing back their footsteps to find the beast, with Arthur and Lancelot leading them, leaving the rest behind for protection. After all, neither Merlin nor the girls would fight against the Minotaur. Or so they thought. Niamh spared glances at Merlin every now and then, to which the warlock would shake his head, signalling her that he was still considering his options. Niamh let him be, and started looking for spells in her own mind, just in case, but by the time they'd arrived to their destination, she had come up with nothing.

Merlin.

Being prepared for the Minotaur had changed nothing, really. Somehow, the beast had still surprised them. Arthur and Lancelot immediately rushed forwards to attack the thing, while Merlin and Niamh pushed Gwen and Amena backwards, away from the Minotaur's reach. Gwen wanted to help, but after some convincing on Niamh's part, she decided to stay where she was. Amena had her crossbow ready just in case she needed to distract the monster, but otherwise she trusted the prince and the former knight to do their job.

Merlin and Niamh were the only ones who knew the truth, and thus they were worried something might go wrong. Especially when it came to Lancelot. At least Arthur had Gaius near — well, his body did, anyway — but who knew where the former knight was, let alone if he had a competent physician that could take care of his wounds — if they ever woke up.

Merlin had protected Arthur for long enough to know what he should do, by now. A spell popped into his mind, and the warlock waited and waited for the right moment.

Until it finally came.

Arthur used his lance to reach the Minotaur's heart, and just when the tip was about to connect with the monster's skin, Merlin mumbled, "Rihtryne ond ginfaest." His eyes flashed gold, and — finally — the weapon managed to pierce through the beast's skin and went straight through his heart.

The Minotaur fell to his knees, then his body collided with the dirt. There was a slight moment, during which no one really knew what to do. Arthur and Lancelot exchanged glances, as did Merlin and Niamh. Gwen and Amena simply looked at the two fighters, a small sense of pride hidden in their eyes.

If Merlin looked — really looked — he could see that same look in Niamh's eyes when they exchanged glances.

But then they realised: they were still in the labyrinth.

Amena.

Puzzled, everyone turned to Niamh. She'd been the one to know about the Minotaur, after all. But the brunette simply shook her head.

"I've got no idea," she told them sincerely. "This is what Theseus did in the myth."

"You did mention he had something else, yes? A thread?" Guinevere asked.

"Yes, Ariadne's thread. But that was for Theseus to retrace his steps out of the labyrinth. We didn't exactly come in through the entrance," the brunette remarked. And she was right.

Amena walked towards the fallen Minotaur. A single thread of blood poured out of the wound, in a most strange fashion. It seemed to make its way across the maze, towards one of the paths. The princess stared at it for a minute, to make sure she wasn't imagining it.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, coming to stand next to her.

"Maybe there is such a thing as Ariadne's thread, or at least something similar," she said, motioning towards the blood. "It's as if the blood was showing us the way out. We should follow it." She knew how morbid it sounded, but at the moment it didn't really matter. Arthur studied her, then the blood. And finally, he nodded.

"Let's go." He was the first one to move. Amena followed suit, Lancelot and Guinevere right behind her, leaving the two sorcerers in the back of the small group.

Morgana.

There honestly aren't that many sorcerers in Camelot. And when Uther Pendragon wanted to find one, nothing would get in his way. Morgana had thought it would take several days, but by the afternoon, they were already coming back with the culprit, who'd apparently confessed.

Morgana had followed the guards to the throne room. When she arrived, she saw the guards pushing the man to his knees. She had joined Uther's side as he questioned the sorcerer, who didn't look up to face the king.

"What is your name, sorcerer?" Uther spat the last word, as if it were a curse.

"It is Balor."

"What have you done to my son?" the king demanded.

"He and his friends are worthy, my Lord," the man started. "Worthy offerings. Every friend of Emrys is a worthy offering." Now, in Morgana's mind, he was saying nonsense.

"His name is Arthur, not Emrys," she corrected him.

"Oh yes. Arthur Pendragon is a worthy offering as well." He started chuckling, as if it were some sort of inside joke.

"What have you done to him?!" Uther repeated.

"I sent them to another place, my Lord. One would say it's not even in this plane of existence. There, they will be the meals of two of the greatest monsters of all. You should be honoured, my Lord, that your son has been considered worthy enough," Balor explained.

Apparently, that was all Uther needed to hear. "You will bring them back in this very moment," the king ordered.

"I will not."

"Then we will hope the enchantment will die with you. Guards!"

Balor snapped his head towards the king, and Morgana gasped. His eyes were glazed with fury — actually, no. His eye was glazed with fury, and his face was contorted in a sneer. "You will regret this, Uther Pendragon. If you kill me, you will never get your son back!"

"Take him to the dungeons," he ordered. "Tomorrow, he burns."

Niamh.

They all thought the blood would take them out of the maze, but it seemed to be the opposite. The trail seemed to be leading them further into the maze, not out of it. Niamh kept her thoughts to herself, though, not wanting to alarm anyone. Surely she was being paranoid, and the blood was really leading them to their exit.

Apparently not.

They entered what seemed to be the centre of the maze. It was a large, round space completely bare of anything.

Or at least so they thought. The creature must've been hiding until they were all inside, because only then did it throw itself at them. Merlin took the fall for all of them — he got pushed out of the way by the creature, which was holding a bloodied silver sword.

"Merlin!" Niamh ran over to him. The warlock hadn't just been pushed out of the way, he'd been seriously hurt. Hopefully Gaius would be able to do something about it before he bled to death.

Gwen ran over to where she was, and helped her carry Merlin away from the fight. Arthur and Lancelot had taken out their weapons to face this new monster. It was similar to the Minotaur they'd faced earlier, but he was also different. For starters, he had the head of a goat, not a bull. His skin was a dark brown, and he was hairy, more than the Minotaur. His eyes glowed a menacing yellow, one that made her want to run the other way and never stop until she was certain she was safe. She recognised the beast, all right: it was a Fomoire. They were an old myth from Hibernia, monsters of royal blood that tyrannised the people of Hibernia, who didn't just owe them offerings, but had to give them two thirds of their children every year as well. Hopefully, they could be killed in the same way a Minotaur would.

The women ran to one of the entrances of the centre, where they left their injured friend. "Is there anything you can do for him?" Amena asked.

"It doesn't matter. Even if I could, this is not his real body, he wouldn't really heal." Niamh swallowed in worry and fear. "Let's hope Gaius gets to him in time."

The sounds of fighting called her attention. She saw Arthur making a move to slice him through, but his sword just bounced off. They would need magic. What had Merlin's spell been? Oh, right. Niamh made sure she wasn't close enough for the two young women to hear her. If Merlin couldn't do the spell, then she would have to.

"Go for his heart!" Niamh shouted. She saw Arthur do it, and mumbled Merlin's spell, "Rihtryne ond ginfaest." Nothing happened, and the sword just bounced off. The prince jumped aside to avoid the sharp blade in the monster's hand.

Lancelot moved to distract the Fomoire from Arthur. He had a go at him and Niamh repeated the spell, but, again, it didn't work.

"You can do it!" Gwen cheered from the sidelines.

Niamh took in a deep breath, and saw Lancelot try again with his spear, going straight to the beast's heart. "Rihtryne ond ginfaest." Niamh repeated once more, and this time, her eyes flashed gold. The lance pierced the Fomoire's skin and went straight through his heart.

Instead of falling to the ground like the Minotaur, the beast simply vanished in thin air, a white thread falling in its place.

"Well done, Lancelot," Arthur complimented the former knight.

"What's this?" Said knight approached the thread. "It looks like—"

"Ariadne's thread?" Niamh approached it as well. Arthur bent down to pick it up.

"Well, I don't know how it'll help us—" Arthur was the one to vanish into thin air this time, and the thread fell once more.

"Does this mean he's woken up?" Gwen asked. Niamh nodded.

"Probably."

"Princess Amena, you should go first," Lancelot told her. Gwen helped Niamh carry Merlin next to the thread, while Amena thanked him and did so. Just like Arthur, she faded into thin air. Gwen went right after. At first, Niamh wanted to go last, but Lancelot convinced her to go first. She positioned herself in a way in which the thread would fall into Merlin's hand after she disappeared.

Niamh opened her eyes.