In the days that followed Morgause's siege, all Arthur could do was wander the castle aimlessly and stare blankly at the walls of his chambers, deep in thought.

The clearing of the streets and burying of the dead were going well. The remnants of the skeletons weapons and armor had been packed into the smithy where they'd be melted down and reused, and the deceased had been laid to rest in a new cemetery just outside the city gates. There was much to be done in Camelot, the people need reassuring, the city walls needed rebuilding, but the prince just didn't have the heart to do anything.

A mixture of rage of confusion, despair and rage coursed through ever fiber of his being. How hadn't he seen that Merlin, his manservant, his friend, was a sorcerer? Looking back, it was so, so obvious. How many times had his life been threatened by mythological beasts, ancient evils and dark magicians, and miraculously he'd emerged unscathed?

More than he could count.

Each of these occurrences had a single thing in common with each other, Merlin. Every time the day had been saved Merlin had been there to congratulate his master on a job well done, bearing a goofy grin and kind expression.

This confused Arthur the most. Was Merlin the mastermind behind the attacks? No, he decided. That wasn't possible. There were kittens with more evil in their hearts. No, Merlin had been saving his life. But why? In his heart of hearts Arthur hoped that this proved his father wrong, that magic could in fact be harnessed for good. But the more he reflected on it, the less sense it made.

There was no reason for a sorcerer to protect him, or Camelot. Uther had slaughtered his kind by the thousands. Logically, Merlin should have left him to be killed, or if necessary, end the kings life himself. Yet the night of the siege he had used magic to defend him, and had openly declared that he would let no harm come to him.

And what was this 'Emrys' prophecy that had startled Morgause? Did sorcery give someone a second name? Whatever it was, it had to be something gravely serious if it had frightened a someone so mighty.

Arthur shook his head and rubbed his temple furiously. The facts he had could only form an endless cycle of contradictions. Rising from his chair Arthur swept from his chambers. Determination defined his features. He had to know why, so he'd simply ask Merlin himself. Being condemned to die anyway, there weren't many reasons for him to divulge any information at all, but Arthur was a master of interrogation, and he would get what he wanted.

The corridors were empty as he swiftly made his way towards the dungeons. Most if not all of the guards were off duty; out with their families scavenging the bits of their lives that hadn't been crushed and burnt to cinders. Farmers would have a tough growing season this year, Morgause's unholy army had torn fields to shreds, decimating the tiny cottages of those who tended them. Shops would have to be restored along with dozens of homes. It was a time of reconstruction for the entire kingdom, one the people would have to endure together if they were to survive.

If magic can be used to bring death and destruction, Arthur thought, could it be used to do the opposite, to bring life and restoration?

Within a few minutes he was descending the narrow spiral staircase that led to the castle dungeons. Dust layered the ceiling and walls. Masses of spider webs were tucked away in the corners. Hardly anyone ever traversed these dank passageways apart from guards and prisoners, so it was hardly ever cleaned. Uther preferred it that way. The damned had no need for cleanliness. At the entrance to the cell in the back stood two armed guards, faces illuminated by the flickering torch that hung on the wall, and the scarce amount of sun rays that ebbed through the barred windows.

"Sire," they addressed him with a salute.

"Let me in, I need to speak with the prisoner." Their faces hardened a bit. One of them nodded, and slipped a large copper key into its hole and pulled the heavy oaken door open. Arthur thanked he stepped inside the doorframe. He looked over his shoulder. "Alone," he clarified. "I can handle this."

The guards stepped back, having intended to accompany the prince. With a deadly, deadly warlock, you couldn't be too careful. Once he stepped inside, he stood before Merlin. The servant was chained to the back wall and sat on a large pile of dirt encrusted straw. His clothes were disheveled, and he was looking thin and tired. Their eyes locked for a moment, blue on blue.

"Arthur…" Merlin whispered.

"Why?" Arthur asked. "Why did you do it?"

"Why did I do what? I've done so much recently I don't know what you mean."

"Everything!" Arthur flared angrily. His hands tightened into fists. "Why did you start practicing sorcery? Why did you save my life? Why did you keep saving my life, when you could have let me die more than a dozen times? Why haven't you killed my father? Am I just some tool to you? WHY!" his voice reverberated off the walls and lingered for a solid ten seconds. Merlin's eyes widened at the outburst. Arthur panted, his entire body shaking. "Why?" he asked one last time. Silence followed.

"I didn't choose to be a sorcerer, Arthur, it's something I was born into. I had no more say in it than you had in being a prince. All my life I've had magic. When I was small I use to accidentally set fire to my mother's skirt by blinking, send objects flying just by moving my arm, I had no control…."

He paused momentarily. For two years he'd awaited this moment, rehearsed it, prepared for it. Now it was all impromptu. "And I've protected you because it's my destiny to do so." Arthur arched an eyebrow. His trembling ceased.

"Your destiny?" Merlin nodded. He tugged at the chains that bound him and reposition himself on the ground. Circlets of blood could be seen on his wrists where the clunky manacles had left their mark.

"When I first came to Camelot, I heard a voice inside my head, I followed it below the castle, and I met the dragon." Arthur's eyes narrowed at the mention of the great beast. "He told me my destiny, your destiny, our destiny. You're going to be a great king one day, Arthur, it's your fate to unite all of Albion, and it's mine to help you and keep you safe."

"The dragon told you this, and you believed it?" Arthur snarled, his voice growing harsh.

"He hasn't been wrong yet," said Merlin. "Dragons are incredibly powerful creatures of magic; the future was his second sight. Half of what he told me was cryptic prophecies. I'm not evil, Arthur." The last bit he added in desperation. Pleading fill his eyes. "I believe in that future, Arthur. Together we can achieve it. I would die before I would betray you."

"You've betrayed me already though, haven't you? You say that you are not evil, yet look what magic has done in the hands of Morgause, look at all the pains it's wrought!"

"I'm not Morgause, Arthur," Merlin replied calmly, surprising himself at how well he stood up to his masters furry. "Magic is only as evil as the hand that wields it. They'll never be a day when I use my gifts for evil; by the Gods I swear it. Especially against you, Arthur, you're my friend." The prince's face softened slightly. Was it really as simple as that, friendship? Did Merlin's motivation truly come from something that pure rather than from diabolical ambitions Uther assumed all those who practice magic possessed?

"How many times have you saved my life?" Merlin gave his trademark grin.

"I stopped counting a long time ago, it's just part of the routine."

"I…I need to think about this." Arthur turned away and walked to the door. Now he knew Merlin's truest motives. His father's views on magic were wrong, they had to be. He looked back. "Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to speak to my father. Although I may not understand everything about it, I'm grateful for all you've done fore me, and I'm honored to call you my friend. Hell will freeze over before I let my father burn you." Leaving the room, he didn't see Merlin's eyes well up with tears of joy. So he still had his friend.

LINEBREAK

Later that evening Merlin was awoken by the sound of hurried footsteps. With a light groan he sat up and brushed the bits of wet straw that clung to his hair and face. The remnants of his pathetic supper, moldy stale bread and a rancid soup lay on a tin tray beside him. Those on death row weren't fed very much. Craning his neck he could just barely see the guard's helmeted heads through the tiny square window in the door on the other side of the room.

"Milady, what are you-"

"Nadsat Nana bobi!" said a soft venomous voice. Pale green mist filled the dungeon antechamber, traces of it slipping into Merlin's cell. Dulls thuds sounded as the guards hit the floor, unconscious. A click of a lock later the door swung open. Dressed as lavishly as usual, Morgana strutted inside. Her hatred filled glare was focused on Merlin. A smirk played at her perfect lips. Despite the pain it caused him, Merlin climbed to his feet to face her.

"You're a sorcerer," she said bluntly. It wasn't a question. She closed her eyes and clicked her tongue as if chastising a poorly behaved child. "So this is the mighty Emrys, poor and helpless in a cage. I'm rather disappointed. The druids spoke of Emrys like some kind of messiah, who lead our people to their prosperity, but all I see is a pathetic excuse for a man, a traitor to his own kind." Merlin shook his head sadly.

"You don't understand."

"Don't I?" she retorted. "All this time you had magic, all this time you could have helped me and yet you didn't. And for what, to defend a genocidal maniac? Morgause and I were this close to achieving victory, and ending his tyranny once and for all. It's a wonder you managed to overpower my sister with so little training, even with your prophesized godly power. , so little skill, we could crush you like an insect for what you've done."

"What I've done?" Merlin shot back furiously. "All I've done is use my gifts for good. I always meant to tell you Morgana, I wanted to help you." Morgana scoffed, waving aside any of his attempts at apologizing with disgust.

"I don't need your excuses."

"It doesn't have to be this way, Morgana," he insisted. "I know this isn't you Morgana, Morgause has twisted you somehow, I know it. Does all your loyalty truly belong to her?"

"Of course, her cause is righteous, and she is my kin."

"'Righteous'? What's righteous about bringing death to everyone who ever loved you? To Gwen, to Arthur, your brother, to your father?"

"Uther is not my father!" she exploded, rounding on him and clawing at his cheek, her nails leaving behind three red trails of blood. "My father was Gorlois! He was a good and noble man, and he loved me!"

"Uther loves you too," Merlin said wincing in pain. "He'd do anything for you Morgana." She shook her head disdainfully. None of the hatred in her posture had left, her heart hadn't even begun to soften. Her soul had been painted black.

"The moment he discovers what I am he'd have me put to death just like you. No, death is all he deserves from me, not love, not loyalty." For one last moment she examined the wound she'd left on his face, then with a flourish of her cloak she swept back towards the door. "You're pesky, Merlin, but after tomorrow I wont have to deal with you. My lovely father will do it for me. Escaping this cell would be easy, but you'd never escape the city. Goodbye, Merlin, have a nice death." She left the room, and the young sorcerer slumped back against the wall in defeat. Escape was the least of his worries, he already had a solution ready for that, but he'd have to wait until his execution tomorrow to implement it.

Sadness filled him and tears poured silently down his face. He'd lost Morgana, and Kilgharrah's words spoken more than a year ago echoed through his mind. "The ancient prophecies speak of an alliance of Mordred and Morgana, united in evil." It was coming true. He couldn't stop it.

LINEBREAK

Miles away from Camelot Morgause walked leisurely through the lush gardens of Cenred castle.

Flowers of every variety bloomed in great bunches, birds chirped happily in the wind, and the rhythmic sounds of the ornate marble fountain that stood at the garden's center gave off a wistful sense of peace. The armored sorceress thought it rather ironic. While his gardens were beautiful beyond description, King Cenred himself was a dark and loathsome man who would sooner trample a litter of newborn pups than willing give in to another's will.

With her she carried the staff of Nimueh, the high priestess of the old religion, and the woman who had raised and taught her. Being the tool that had allowed her to raise her undead army, and channel her powers for incredibly potent effects, it commanded a large amount of respect amongst the magic users of Albion. Morgause was a goddess amongst them, the one who would deliver them from bondage, and gain retribution for the atrocities committed against them.

"Amazing, isn't it?" the king asked her.

She turned to see him approaching, gazing in faux wonder at his surroundings. His outward appearance gave no indication of his true nature.

In fact, Morgause thought him quite attractive with a thick mane of black hair, charismatic eyes and a smile that could melt the heart of any woman. Pity, she thought. If it were Cenred's kingdom I sought to conquer than perhaps I would take him as a consort. His queen is nothing more than an empty headed womb with legs. I would produce a far worthier heir.

But alas it was not to be, and thus Morgause put on her most alluring smile. Seducing the minds of those she needed to manipulate was her greatest skill, even more so than her magical talents.

"Indeed it is," she agreed. "Never have I seen a garden so wonderful. Though I suppose it's only proper for someone such as you."

With these carefully compliment laced words she put her most recent plans into action. Besieging Camelot with an army of the dead may not have worked, but surely an army of the living, combined with the dozen or so groups of sorcerers who desired an end to Uther would surely succeed. That was the obvious scheme. However plans far more complex than a simple invasion swirled through Morgause's mind.

The king turned to her, lips pursed. Gleaming twin swords hung loosely from his hips. Cenred's left hand wandered lazily to one of their leather hilts.

"Drop the flattery, witch. I know perfectly well what it is you seek of me." Morgause cocked her head to the side and her eyebrows raised the length of her forehead.

"Do you?"

"You seek an alliance. I've heard of your attack on Uther's city. My scouts report that you had the entire capitol overflowing with un-living monsters. They say the city was ready to fall, and yet Uther survives. Your army crumbled to dust, and you yourself fled from the city. Tell me, witch. Why should I align myself with someone who retreats when victory was in their grasp?" Her false smile disappeared. A far more sinister expression took its place.

"Understand this, Cenred. Inside Camelot castle is a being with more power than you or I could ever imagine. With a wave of his hand your kingdom would be brought to its knees. Emrys is his name, and he is foretold to be the most powerful magical being to ever be born. I had no choice but to escape his wrath and lift my enchantment." Cenred snorted dismissively, letting go of his sword.

"Do not attempt to sway me with fairytales. No number of folk stories can hide your weakness. And to the point, if not even you could overpower him, how do you suppose my armies would be able?"

"I don't," Morgause said curtly. "In fact, Emrys will not be a factor much longer. Uther's arrested him and ordered his execution. By midday today he will be dead." Cenred looked puzzled.

"If this all powerful sorcerer of yours is doomed to die, why even mention him? Did you think I'd find it impressive that Uther killed one of your enemies while you ran away like a scared little child?" Deep anger slowly formed in his face. He was starting to believe his time was being wasted.

"Because, my friend," Morgause said calmly. "Emrys is no longer a threat. When he is dead there will be no one left to defend Camelot from magic. Together with your armies, my magicians can take the kingdom by storm."

"Now, now," Cenred said neutrally his interest finally piqued, though he wasn't without restraint. "Explain to me why I should help you to conquer Camelot? All the kings of Albion harbor some degree of hatred for Uther, and a desire for his land. In short, my dear witch, what's in it for me?"

"Camelot is yours," she replied. "All I seek is the freedom of my people, and Uther's head on a pike."

"Then I suppose we can negotiate," Cenred grinned maliciously. He turned and moved towards the gardens exit. "Follow me, we will speak to my generals, they will be yours to command, so long as Camelot is taken in my name." Stalking behind him, Morgause let herself give the smallest of chuckles, cackling in her mind. The pieces were falling into place.

"It's working, sister," she thought telepathically.

"Wonderful, and Merlin will be dead within the hour," Morgana spoke into her head.

LINEBREAK

Arthur paced the length of his chambers with his eyes to the floor and hands folded neatly behind his back. Beside the window Gwen sat quietly. Red puffiness temporarily marred her pristine olive colored cheeks, the remnants of tears drying in the valley between her eyes and the bridge of her nose. Predictably she'd taken the news of Merlin's execution rather hard. The order had been made more than a week ago, yet it was only now, a mere hour away from the horrible event, that she'd allowed herself to cry. Merlin was her friend, sorcerer or not. Nothing the servant boy had done in his life merited death.

The idea that he was evil never once crossed her mind. When Merlin's eyes had glowed gold, and he'd summoned the fiery dragon, all her doubts and latent prejudices about magic wash away instantly. If someone as kind, compassionate and innocent looking as Merlin could be considered evil, then the definitions of right and wrong had been severely warped from the way Gwen interpreted them. Her deepest wish at the moment was to fully understand just what had happened over the past two years. How exactly had Merlin saved the day all those times? Of course when this was all over, and if they managed to save him, she and her royal lover would force him to explain, after a slap to the face and a quick beating.

They could accept that he was magical, but he'd still lied to them, and for that he'd earned to be roughed up a bit.

Hours had passed since Arthur had futilely pled with his father for Merlin's life.

And now the pair of them struggled to think of any way that their friend's life could be saved without the kings consent. It was impossible for Arthur to physically free him. Since that morning extra guards had been posted at Merlin's cell to make sure the prince didn't interfere. Usually the two of them would use their alone time to support their forbidden romance, stolen kisses and fleeting embraces. Tension was far too high for that.

"Can't he just use magic to free himself?" Arthur had suggested early on.

"He probably could," Gwen conceded. "But the guards would notice and I don't think Merlin would be willing to fight back and risk hurting anyone. It's against his nature." With a sigh Arthur nodded. They had no idea to do. Their minds stunted by hundreds of question, each new suggestion seemed more and feebler than the last.

"Does Gaius know anything?" Gwen asked breaking the silence. "He must have something of Merlin's, a book of spells, something he can disguise himself with." Arthur shook his head grimly.

"I already asked him. He has a book of Merlin's but it would be impossible to get it to him in his cell. On top of that, he wouldn't have enough time to learn a new spell before he's killed." Silence fell once again. Both of them absolutely hated this.

Suddenly a strong burst of wind blew through the window whirling the scarlet curtains and shaking the glass panes in their frames. Gwen stood up and she and Arthur watched in awe as the wind began to spiral inward to the center of the room. The table was thrown aside and the Prince's wardrobe was wrenched open.

"What's going on?" Arthur shouted. He lunged across the room and retrieved his sword ready to fight. However the wind continued to accelerate, spinning in a circle faster and faster, forming a thick grayish fog that distorted their vision. Then all at once the wind stopped and out of the spiral stepped a spectral figure.

"Hello, Arthur Pendragon," said a familiar child like voice. Arthur gasped as the fog subsided. Before them stood the druid boy Mordred who Arthur had helped to save. However he looked as though he wasn't really there. He didn't look solid. His body looked transparent and colorless, like a ghosts. What remained the same however were his pale blue eyes, which were filled with more pain and anguish than any child his age should ever experience.

"You!" Arthur gaped. Mordred smiled tightly.

"Yes, me. Forgive me for my appearance, but for obvious reasons I am unable to physically come to you. This is my astral form, my mental projection. I have a message for you," he glanced at Gwen. "Both of you I suppose."

"A message? What kind of message could you possibly have for me?" Arthur asked bewilderedly.

"Do not fear for Emrys' life, I suppose he's Merlin to you. He has both the power and the resources to free himself. Do not interfere. Any action you took would only provoke Uther's hand further and bring death to more of my kind."

"Why are you telling me this?" Arthur asked. "I'm grateful, but what is Merlin to you, that you would wish to see him saved?" Mordred's face became dark and fierce.

"Know this, Pendragon. I have no wish to save Emrys' life. I consider him to be a traitor to his kind; betrayal is not something I can forgive. However I am bound my religion to help him. Despite my feud with him, he saved my life. For this reason I owe him a debt, which now can be considered repaid. Emrys would give his life for you, don't waste this gift." The ghostly figure seemed to turn and to someone Arthur and Gwen couldn't see, and said in a hushed tone.

"I've done what you asked Kilgharrah, now leave me be. You'd must be going, if you're going to get their in time, you can't shrug off Emrys' will much longer." Then Mordred disappeared, the wind subsided. Neither of the two remaining in the room understood that at all. Who was Kilgharrah?

Off in the distance bells began to ring. Arthur's heart sank. It was time.