Guess who's a college graduate now? :D

I'm sorry it took so long to update, but this last year of college put me through a lot. I've had to say a lot of goodbyes while making plans for the future. So, I had to put this on the back burner. I've still been percolating ideas about where I'm going with it, but I had little time to actually write it and edit it. But, I'm back and out of school, so hopefully the next update won't take nearly 9 months.

Just a couple orders of business:

First of all, I have posted a revised version of Part 5 along with this update, so please check that out, since it clarifies some things that weren't clear in the original version.

Secondly, a reviewer brought up that this story "should" be in the crossover section, even though I do note that it is a crossover in my summary. Now, I haven't done this for two reasons, one of which I stated in the Background Info. I mean, even publishers categorize short story cycles as novels to sell better. The second thing is, since this is a 3-way crossover, I don't know which crossover section I would put it in - Sorcerer's Apprentice or Avalon High? I would lean more to Sorcerer's Apprentice due to a stronger fandom and that the story takes place within the events of that film, but that's me. Or should Merlin be taken out of the mix to make this an Avalon High/Sorcerer's Apprentice crossover?

Though I want this to be seen by more readers, I do want to be fair to the site, and to my fellow readers and writers. Since I'm not sure how to address this, I'll leave it to you guys: Should this stay a Merlin fanfic? Or should I categorize it as a crossover? If so, what kind? This is a big decision, so I would appreciate reader input. If you have opinions about this, I will ask that you PM me rather than post in the review section.

Disclaimer: I own none of these works, or their characters. I especially don't own the scene detailed at the end of this chapter from The Sorcerer's Apprentice.

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for: Part 6!


Part 6: The Dragon

Merlin tilted his head, staring, open-mouthed, at his friend. After a moment trying to find the words to express his amazement, he simply said, "You're... small."

Kilgharrah huffed. "Very observant, Merlin," he drawled, his wizened voice reverberating in their heads. "Yes, I am small. I am also an animate piece of jewelry. Do keep up."

"But who did this to you?" He pointed to Dave. "Was it him?"

"Hey!" Dave argued. "He came to me like this! How could I know there was a-a conscious person in there?" If he had known, he probably wouldn't have left the ring in his sock drawer all those years.

"No matter," Kilgharrah said. "I have not been conscious until now."

Dave sighed in relief. "Oh, good!"

"And I've never been human."

"What are you?" Miles asked.

The figure puffed out its chest. "In life, I was of the noble breed of dragons."

"Dragon?!" Dave jumped back, eyes wide as saucers. "Oh God, not another one!"

Miles's eyes also widened, but not because of the existence of a dragon. He realized this must have been the dragon from his vision - a vision of the past, rather than the future. "That explains the shape of the ring."

Merlin turned to Dave, eyebrow raised. "You've seen a dragon before?"

Dave started, then recomposed himself. "Well, it wasn't a real dragon, like, hatched from an egg, but it was real enough to nearly charbroil me."

"Do not fear, Master David," the former dragon said. "I have not always been peaceful, I must admit, but even if I were my former size, I would not hurt you. We are bonded, after all, as ring and sorcerer."

Suddenly, Merlin went rigid.

"What's wrong?" Miles asked.

But Merlin didn't respond. Instead, he lifted the dragon until they were staring eye-to-eye. In a low voice, he asked, "When you said you were a dragon 'in life,' what did you mean?"

The statuette looked up at Merlin, a touch of sadness on his brow. "I'm afraid... this is not my true self, Merlin. Only part of my soul has been sealed in this ring, by my own choice. The rest has departed this world, beyond the veil."

Merlin felt as though he'd been pierced by that serket in the woods all over again. "But... but I don't understand," he said, voice trembling. Kilgharrah and he hadn't been getting along well lately, but he couldn't be gone, not like this. He hated to admit it, but he cared about the old dragon. He was one of the few who knew him for what he really was, and was an invaluable resource for protecting the kingdom. "I just saw you the other day. I-I had to talk to you about Gilli, remember? The sorcerer who entered the tournament –"

"It was the other day for you, yes. But for myself, it has been much longer."

Dave and Miles glanced to each other, wide-eyed.

"Wait," Dave started, "You're not going to–"

"You are under the impression, Merlin," the dragon interceded, "that you have only been transported through space. But, this is not so. You have been transported through space and through time, to the year 2010 Anno Domini."

Dave and Miles flinched. Well, he'd said it.

The blood seemed to drain from Merlin's face. "Two-thousand-and...no, that's impossible."

"Think on it, Merlin. The apprentice and the wizard knew you by name, because your name has become legend over hundreds of years. They have stopped you from leaving, afraid you would be overwhelmed by this future world. And by now I'm sure you've noticed the level of magic is different from what you're used to."

Merlin started. He couldn't deny the lack of magic. But could this really be why? "Prove it."

The figurine's metal mouth seemed to smirk. "Merlin, your sense for magic is almost as honed as mine. Can you not tell who else's magic is in this ring?"

Merlin blinked. Then, slowly, he wrapped his fingers around the figure, and closed his eyes. Again, he could sense that the immense magic in the object easily, but it would take a little more focus to identify it. Part of it belonged to the Great Dragon himself, that was certain. He knew his magic well, like the voice of a friend, or the scent of his home in Ealdor. The other part was a magic nearly as old as the dragon's, something like the magic on the Isle of the Blessed. Yet again, he sensed something familiar and affectionate about the energy. Then, his magic surged, hot and seething, down his arm. It coalesced in his hand, the energy thrumming under his skin... and the ring hummed in sync.

"It's mine," he realized, breathless. "It's my magic, but it's... old." He pinched his eyes shut, shaking his head. "No, that's not the word. The magic itself isn't aged, but the spells have been in place a long time. It's..."

"Meant to last?" Miles offered.

"Yes!" Merlin said. "The magic was meant to last. For centuries, it feels like." He looked to the dragon. "But I've never cast a spell like this."

"Not yet."

And then, it sank in. "I'm really in the future." He felt limp as he dropped onto the couch behind him.

After a moment, Miles asked, "You okay?"

Merlin nodded slowly, still dazed. "I will be. It's not the most shocking thing I've ever heard, but it's ... a lot to process."

"Understatement of the year," Dave mumbled. "For the record, though, you're taking this a lot better than I expected."

Merlin sat there for what felt like an age, letting his mind absorb the news until, finally, he looked to the dragon. "You said I had become legend. What of Arthur? Camelot?"

Miles blinked in surprise. How could a Merlin so young know about Arthur?

The dragon chuckled. "You would ask about them first. Both are legends, but both have long since passed into myth, as have you and I."

Merlin sank back into the couch, eyes staring ahead. Arthur was dead, his kingdom gone. Of course it was natural, it had been a thousand years. The fact that anyone knew their names at all was remarkable – they truly would be remembered through the ages, as had been foretold. But, it felt wrong for him to be standing in a time and place where his friend and his destiny did not exist.

Sensing his thoughts, Kilgharrah added, "Take heart, Merlin, you'll be back with Arthur soon enough."

Merlin nodded slowly, then turned to Dave. "I'm guessing this is what you meant when you said the ring was mine."

Dave shrugged. "Basically, yeah. You're not still mad at us, are you?"

Merlin gave a small smile. "No. If anything, I'm sorry I reacted so harshly."

"Still doesn't explain how you got the ring, though," Miles muttered, arms crossed.

"The ring is rightfully his, make no mistake about that," the dragon said as it scurried up Merlin's arm to perch on his shoulder. "One of the enchantments placed by the older Merlin was that the magic in the ring would not activate until it found its rightful owner. The other was that I would not awaken until the ring had summoned and made contact with Merlin. As you can see, Merlin's magic never fails – at least, when properly applied."

Merlin shook his head at the mention of his older self. He could now say this was the strangest thing he had ever experienced.

Dave repeated, "Would not awaken until the ring summoned...?" His eyes widened. "Wait, are you saying... you knew this would happen? Merlin knew this would happen?!"

Kilgharrah nodded.

"So, time isn't gonna be screwed up because Merlin's here?" Miles asked.

"Correct. His memory of the events of this day, of you two, will be wiped from his memory until close to his death, at which point he will take action to ensure things would go as they should. This included making sure I would be here to tell you what you needed to know. Thus, here I am."

Merlin frowned at the fact that he wasn't going to remember Dave or Miles after all this was over, but considering his experiences dealing with foreknowledge, maybe it was for the best.

Dave, however, threw his hands in the air and cried, "Why couldn't anyone have mentioned that before?! Shouldn't there be a warning in the Encantus, like: 'Hey, Dave, don't freak out if Merlin is summoned through time and lands at your feet – that's totally normal'?" He marched up to the dragon and glared down at it. "And this isn't the first time you've caused me trouble."

The figurine bared its teeth, and leapt from Merlin's shoulder to Dave's arm, tiny claws latching onto his sleeve. "The only reason, David, that this occurred was because you needed help, so I would not be so quick to lay blame."

"I didn't ask for help!"

"You wished that someone would understand."

Merlin and Miles glanced at each other. Dave started to correct him, but the words died in his throat. He had wished that, hadn't he? "I...well..." he sighed. "This wasn't what I had in mind."

"Who would?" Miles wondered.

"Maybe not, but it's what you'll need. Especially for what's coming."

Merlin stood up. "What's coming?"

A growl of disapproval rumbled in their heads. "I gather he hasn't told you, then."

Miles glanced at Dave. "About what?"

Kilgharrah sighed. "Morgana."

Their blood ran cold at the name. "No," Merlin whispered. The witch's face swam before his eyes – dark wavy locks tumbling past her shoulders, a malicious smirk hidden to all but him.

"Morgana?" Miles asked the dragon. "As in Morgana le Fay? She's alive?"

"She was never called le Fay in our time, but yes."

"But, if we're so far in the future, how could she still be alive?" Merlin asked. Why Morgana, and not Arthur?

"She has been trapped in a magical device you will later invent, called the Grimhold, which keeps her in suspended animation – she cannot die, but she cannot cast spells either. However, there are forces gathering that wish to free her, and if they succeed, she will cast a spell that will doom the entire world."

Merlin scoffed. "What, just conquering a kingdom wasn't enough for her anymore?" Despite playing it off, inside, he was hurt. Though he had seen what Morgana had become, and was determined to stop her from hurting the kingdom, there was a tiny part of him that had hoped that she could still be redeemed. But if she was still so wicked after a thousand years, how could he hold out any hope?

"Wait," Miles said, interrupting Merlin's thoughts, "what does Morgana have to do with Dave?"

Dave gulped as the two other sorcerers looked at him inquisitively. He glanced down at the ring. "Mr. Dragon, could you maybe explain all this?"

The figure gave him a withering look."Never call me that again. And you must be the one to explain, Master David."

Dave's voice hiked up an octave as he said, "What?! Why?"

"You must take ownership of your own story."

"What does that even mean?" he argued. But, with all eyes on him, he caved and said, "Fine. You're gonna want to sit down for this." So they did, and Dave began, "At some point in your future, Merlin, sorcerers will fall into two sects: the Merlineans and the Morganians. Merlineans are the good guys, and they'll follow you and your example, hence the term 'Merlineans.' And the Morganians are evil jerkfaces, and they follow–"

"Morgana, yeah. I get it," Merlin muttered, downcast.

Miles peered sideways at him. He'd read many different versions of Arthurian legends, all with different relationships between Morgana and Merlin. But which one was the true one? Clearly she had meant something to him once, or he wouldn't sound so bitter about her. Miles just hoped they hadn't been romantically involved. That would be more than a bit awkward.

"Anyway," Dave continued, "Merlin, you had this apprentice–"

"An apprentice? Really?" Merlin's eyes brightened, and he found himself smiling. He had thought about teaching magic ever since the young sorcerer, Gilli, had left Camelot. Although he had been able to teach Gilli a lesson about magic, he had desired to teach him actual magic. The idea thrilled him. He liked to imagine a day, after Arthur lifted the ban on magic and brought peace to Albion, that he could have a student.

"Go on," Miles told Dave, seeing Merlin was lost in thought.

"Okay, so," Dave continued, "your apprentice, Balthazar - you trusted him enough that when you... well... died," Dave gave Merlin a moment to settle with that idea, then went on, "you gave your dragon ring to him so that he could identify your successor, the..." And Dave sighed, before drawling out, "the Prime Merlinean, who is, apparently, the only one who can destroy Morgana–"

"Mor-gah-na," Merlin interrupted.

"What?"

"You were saying it wrong."

Dave threw his hands out. "I'm American! Sue me." Merlin looked perplexed by the statement. "Oh, right, you wouldn't … never mind. Anyway, the Prime Merlinean is the only one who can destroy Mor-gah-na," he looked pointedly at Merlin, "once and for all. Like, forever."

Merlin and Miles paused, letting the information sink in. Miles leaned towards Dave. "So, if you're the rightful owner of the ring, does that mean–"

"–that you're my successor?" Merlin finished, mystified.

Dave sighed. This was the part he didn't want to talk about. "Well, apparently we are distantly related. And the ring seems to think I have the potential."

"I don't think so," Kilgharrah purred in his ear, "I know so."

If Dave could strangle the metal figure, he would. "The thing is, you aren't really the Prime Merlinean until you don't need the ring to cast spells anymore. A point which... I haven't reached yet." 'Nor will I ever,' he thought.

Merlin stared at the boy. On the one hand, he felt relieved to find a connection to this stranger, so that he didn't feel so alone in this place and time. But, he was also sad. This boy from the future had the weight of the world on his shoulders, all because Merlin had failed to stop Morgana all those years ago. So, he stood up and put a hand on Dave's shoulder. "You'll get there," he said gently. "It's not like I always get spells right on the first try."

Dave frowned. "You're just saying that. I mean, you're freaking Merlin."

Merlin crossed his arms. "I don't know what your stories have said about me, but I can tell you, I'm not perfect. Not even close. I've had potions explode in my face. I've worked on spells through the night, failing over a hundred times before I got it right. I've cast a spell that I couldn't undo when I needed to. And some spells I'm still not great at – healing for one."

"Not to mention all the times you came running to me for help," Kilgharrah added.

Merlin rolled his eyes at the dragon, but nodded in agreement. He turned back to Dave, "The point is, being a good sorcerer doesn't mean being able to do a spell on the first try. It means giving yourself room to grow, and having humility enough to admit you need help. Something, I can tell you, that Morgana has never learned." He glanced downwards, his eyes dark. "Or, if she knew it once, she has since forgotten."

This confirmed to Miles what he had thought before. To lighten the mood, he joked, "And seriously, who came up with 'Prime Merlinean' anyway? They couldn't just call you 'The Chosen One' like those other fantasy heroes?"

Dave rolled his eyes. "You're telling me." He turned to Merlin, his expression softened. "Thanks." He wasn't sure if he believed Merlin, but he appreciated the warlock's confidence.

Merlin smiled. "Anytime." Then, he said, "I do have to ask, though: why would you need the ring to cast spells at all? I've never needed any device to focus my magic. I know some who have, but certainly not every sorcerer I've met."

"You forget, Merlin, that sorcerers who are not creatures of the Old Religion, as you are, have always needed something exterior to channel magic." said the dragon. "Whether that be through spells, poultices, or herbs. And there came a point, after the Golden Age of Camelot, that the power of the Old Religion began to retreat from the realm. Not to fade completely, mind, but to loosen its grip. Sorcerers thus had to turn more to the magic within, and many of the old practices fell away. Magical objects, like the Grimhold, were still created, and Merlineans and Morganians also created new practices, but it still became limited. Those practitioners who remained became reliant on magic conductors, some to produce magic, some to stop magic from spilling out of them. Even you needed a ring after a while, for reasons that I think are clear now."

Merlin nodded. "My magic keeps wanting to spread out and fill the void." He could feel it humming in his fingertips even at this moment, want to burst out and seep into the air. "Why did the magic retreat in such a way?"

"I cannot say."

Merlin sighed. "Of course you can't," he mumbled.

After an awkward silence, Miles went ahead and asked, "So, what happened to the apprentice, by the way?"

"Oh, he's still alive," Dave said. "Older Merlin cast a spell to keep him the same age while he was searching all those years."

Merlin's eyebrows shot up. "I did what now?"

Dave continued, "And then he found me, gave me the ring, got trapped in a magic urn for ten years, came back, found me again, and after helping him retrieve the Grimhold, I agreed to be his apprentice. Aaaand that's the story." Well, it was if you left out the terrors, nervous breakdowns, and abandonment of his training.

Ignoring the "ten years in an urn" thing (which did strike him as curious), Miles interjected, "Wait, so he's your master? He teaches you magic?"

"Yup."

He raised an eyebrow, eyes half-lidded. "So, you knew a magic expert this whole time whom we could have asked for help, and you said nothing?"

"...Ssssorta?"

Merlin held up his hands. "Hate to interrupt, but can someone tell me how I managed to keep a man alive for a thousand years?"

"If you recall, Merlin, you do have the power over life and death."

Merlin's head swiveled around to look at the dragon. His eyes narrowed. "I would never use that power again, Kilgharrah. You know that. Not with the Old Religion's price."

"Because you've never killed anyone in the line of duty?"

Merlin squirmed. "We both know it's an entirely different thing." Still, could his future self have possibly forgotten all the anguish that power caused, even if used for the best intentions?

"Whoa, whoa, what's this about killing people?" Miles asked as he bolted up from his seat, a tremor in his voice.

Merlin peered at Miles, curious. He seemed more struck by the idea that Merlin had killed people than he himself had. Perhaps the so-called legends had painted a different picture of him?

"There is a power," Merlin explained, his tone grave, "to be able to give back a life, or to create a new one. But to give a life, another must be taken. It's a rare gift, only wielded by the most powerful of sorcerers."

"Like you," Dave said. And it wasn't a question.

Merlin pressed his mouth in a thin line. "...Yes. Like me. But, I've only ever used that power once, and I didn't realize what it was I'd done until afterwards. I hoped to never use it again." He looked back to the dragon. "Please, Kilgharrah, I need to know what I did..." He trailed off, suddenly unsure, "...Er, what I will do, rather...no, wait..."

"Just go with 'did,' it's easier," Miles suggested. Merlin nodded, feeling this was getting stranger by the minute.

Kilgharrah sighed. "You did use your power over life and death. But you did not sacrifice another life to make the deal – you gave your own, instead."

The three sorcerers were struck silent, staring at the dragon. Even Merlin, though relieved he had not stooped so low, was surprised.

"You see, Merlin, you were given a vision. You knew you would die soon, although," the dragon murmured, a touch of grief in his voice, "you did not know how it would come to pass. But, knowing it would happen, and knowing David would come along, you made a deal with the Old Religion that, when you perished, your life would be given to your three apprentices, so that they could await the Prime Merlinean's arrival."

"Three? The Old Religion took that deal?" Merlin asked, surprised.

"Well, it was you. As I said, it was loosening its grip on this world by then. It was more willing to work with you to preserve enough of the old magic for the world to still work, and to cultivate the new. To keep three alive to protect the Prime Merlinean was a price they were willing to pay. Especially since Morgana's plan would upset the balance of life and death to a catastrophic degree."

"Is she using an army of skeletons again?"

"No, young warlock, something far worse than that." The dragon peered up at Dave.

Dave took his cue, and explained, "It's this ritual called 'The Rising.' It will bring back evil dead sorcerers from all over the world so that she can enslave mankind."

Miles' eyes widened. "Like, all of them?"

Merlin paled. "So every evil sorcerer I've killed: Mary Collins, Edwin Muirden, Nimueh, Cornelius Sigan..."

"...And every evil sorcerer that has died in the thousand years since, yes. I'm afraid so."

Merlin shook his head. "We can't let that happen."

"Exactly. That's why you and the wizard are here."

"But, wait," Miles said. "Isn't our victory a moot point? If Merlin went back to the past unharmed, doesn't that mean we already know this will turn out well?"

Dave stood up, a grin stretching across his face. "You're right! We win! Oh man, that's such a relief..."

"It's not that simple."

Dave dropped back into the chair. "Oh, come on! Why not?"

"Merlin got back unharmed, yes. But the battle in the future was not yet done when it happened."

They paused to let this sink in. "Ohhhh!"

"Yes. Once Merlin has fulfilled his role, he will be pulled back to his time. Your fates will remain to be seen."

"But I can't just leave them to face Morgana by themselves!" Merlin cried. "What kind of role would pull me out before the fight was over?"

"A role that will make sure you don't die before your destiny with Arthur is complete."

That shut Merlin up quickly.

Despite all the stress the warlock from the past had put him through, Dave was impressed that Merlin would stay to help them fight Morgana, even though he had to get back to Camelot. He could see why Balthazar became his apprentice. Still, he had to wonder, "Why is Miles here, though? He has nothing to do with this mess."

Miles gulped.

"His role will be revealed in time," was all the dragon said.

Dave rolled his eyes. "Well, that's a diplomatic answer."

"I don't know what that means," Merlin said. "But if it means vague and unhelpful, then I agree." He smirked at Kilgharrah. "A thousand years and you haven't changed a bit."

A crease appeared in the metal dragon's brow. "That well may be. But I was asked by you, Merlin, not to say more than that."

Merlin blinked. Between the foresight and the secrecy, he was starting to think he was going to turn into Kilgharrah when he got older. Minus the scales, of course.

"Okay," Miles said, glancing at the dragon, "So, we know Merlin has a thing for dragons, Dave is Merlin's great-times-a-hundred grandnephew or something, and Morgana wants to initiate the zombie apocalypse. Is there anything else we need to know?"

"Merlin instructed me to leave one last message for each of you before I reverted back to ring state."

Merlin frowned. "Do you have to?"

The dragon leapt back into Merlin's hand, silver wings fluttering. "As I said before, Merlin, my time on this earth is done. This is just an echo of what I was. David needs me as a ring so he can become strong enough to defeat Morgana."

Merlin nodded sadly. "Go on, then."

The dragon turned to Dave. "First, Master David."

Dave bent down to look the dragon in the eye. "Any chance you're about to tell me how to defeat Morgana?"

"I'm afraid you have to figure that out on your own."

Dave shrugged. "Worth a shot."

"Merlin did, however, wish to tell you this: you are not his inferior. In many ways, you are equal – in magic, in intelligence, and in character. But you have also been given something that neither Merlin nor Morgana ever had. With all this, you may be able to fulfill your destiny, if only you have the courage to seize it."

Dave wrinkled his nose. "Uh...thanks?" He thought that Balthazar must have learned his knack for useless mottos from the dragon. Even if he wanted to go back to his destiny, how could he face Balthazar again? It was not an option.

The dragon peered up at Merlin. "Merlin, you should know that Camelot, though gone, still has its allies, and its enemies. And though some things may seem changed from what you knew, at their core, they are the same." Then, the metal dragon appeared to smile. "Also, I may not be alive, but I am glad I had the chance to see you again."

Merlin had no idea what that could be referring to. But Kilgharrah was kin, and he trusted he would understand in time. "Thank you."

Finally, he leapt onto the high schooler's palm. Miles felt a slight hum in his hand as he heard the dragon say, "For you, young wizard, Merlin had no particular words of wisdom – only a warning."

Miles frowned. "And that is?"

The dragon's blank, metal eyes narrowed, as it growled two words: "Brace yourself."

Miles barely had a second to process the warning before its intent became clear. Pain slammed into his skull, making him topple to his knees. As the dragon leapt to Dave's finger and wrapped his tail around his finger once more, a scene unfolded before Miles's shut eyes:

A man with tangled blonde hair and a rawhide trench coat pulled a waterlogged volume off the stone floor, brushing the excess off as he frowned, disappointed.

"Hi."

The man looked up to see a familiar sweatshirt-clad boy at the top of a set of iron stairs. "Hello," he greeted back.

"I'm sorry," Dave Stutler continued stiffly as he started down the stairs. "I think you and I need to have a talk."

"No apology necessary," the man replied softly. "Let us move on."

The boy gave a wry grin. "You're a diamond, mate."

But neither the grin nor the voice were true, and the older man knew it. His eyes darted to the boy's hand – black-polished nails, and no dragon ring. Not-Dave, seeing the look, clicked his tongue and smirked. "Aw." The disguise had been compromised, but before the older man could react, the boy cupped his hands and thrust forward a wave of magic, sending the man flying into a huge copper wire plate. The man groaned as the wires wrapped themselves around his wrists and ankles, trapping him. As he looked up, Not-Dave's face shifted, replaced by another's – a handsome man with spiky, bleached blonde hair, which he quickly preened back into place with his fingers.

"Surprisingly well done," said a suave British voice. Another man, with oily black hair, moustache, and white coat, now strode down the stairs as though he owned the place. "Now," he said to the younger man, "go find the Grimhold."

Miles gasped as the vision dispersed. He found himself on the ground for the third time today, Dave and Merlin standing above him.

"Are-are you okay?" Dave asked, waving his hand in front of Miles' face. The dragon ring had coiled itself around Dave's finger once again.

Miles' eyes darted up to the college student. "We have got to stop meeting like this."

Dave glared. "Seriously, dude, we've had enough scares today. Just tell us what happened."

Miles sighed. "Your master, Balthazar, does he have scraggly blonde hair and an ancient-looking trench coat?"

Dave glanced at Merlin, who looked just as confused as he felt. He turned back to Miles. "How did you know that?"

Miles raised himself onto his elbows. He hesitated - he hadn't wanted to tell them about the other part of his power. But a man's life was at stake, possibly the world's. So, he braced himself and said, "I saw him. And he's about to be in some serious trouble."


Miles's vision is taken directly from a scene in The Sorcerer's Apprentice, so this does not belong to me.

I know this chapter had a lot of explanations, some of which will not be entirely clear yet, but I hope you guys liked it. I had quite a bit of fun writing Kilgharrah this chapter, and part of me hates to see him go so soon, but Dave does need his ring. Plus, we've got some more fun characters on the way to make up for it :)

A couple of notes:

-Yeah, Morgana being alive? That was one of those necessary changes I mentioned in past chapters. I mean, she's the main antagonist of Sorcerer's Apprentice, so she had to be alive to do that.

-Merlin's exchange with Dave about Morgana's name was addressing something that bugged me in the Sorcerer's Apprentice film, in which everyone, even the British actors, said it the American way, with "gan" sounding more like "can." I mean, I am American, so I get it, but since Merlin actually knows Morgana i felt he should correct Dave. Miles says it correctly because he was repeating how Kilgharrah said it.

-The idea that Merlin would not want to use his power over life and death (demonstrated at the end of Series 1) is partially inspired by Alaia Skyhawk's "A Question of Motives," but mostly I wrote this because I think it makes sense for canon Merlin. Considering that power caused the Purge, and nearly took his mother and Gaius away from him, he would never use that power unless it was guaranteed that Merlin would be the one taken in the bargain. I wanted to play with this, since it was the only way I could reconcile the Sorcerer's Apprentice canon that Merlin was able to cast a spell to keep his three apprentices from aging for a thousand years.

-Probably the hardest thing I had to do this chapter was reconcile why sorcerers need rings/magical devices (and even Miles needs his staff) in Sorcerer's Apprentice when in Merlin they usually do not (although there are some odd cases like Gilli's ring in "The Sorcerer's Shadow"). That is a big part of why I planted the "weak magic" thing last chapter, further explored here. I will be building on this in future chapters, but let me know if you think the idea is plausible so far.

Thank you to everyone who favorited and followed since last chapter, and to Tolleren, XphiaDP, AuroraKnight, NameGary, and Tibki for your reviews!

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~*Astraea*