Arthur didn't know why Morgana was keeping him alive. She said she was waiting for one called Emrys to come to Camelot, and he was the bait. Arthur tried to tell her he didn't know anyone by that name, but she only laughed.

So he languished in his own dungeons, and his thoughts turned to Merlin. Not once did he speak to his comrades in captivity, nor acknowledge them at all. They worried, but they did not disturb their king's musings. Much.

"Something wrong, Princess?" Gwaine tried to get a response out of the eerily quiet Arthur. But engrossed in his thoughts, the man did not answer. Then the moon, its silver light a comfort to all others in the cells beneath Camelot, found its way through the barred window and splintered across the room. And Arthur stared into the silver light, through the moon's pale glow, and he saw him. He saw Merlin.

Then Arthur heard him scream.

"No! Merlin!" The king staggered to his feet, shrugging off a concerned Gaius. "I'm not crazy! I saw him!" he said in response to the physician's unasked question. "I heard him! He's in trouble! Gaius," Arthur calmed a little, "I swear by my throne, by my honour, by… by everything, I saw him."

"I believe you, sire," replied Gaius, who had no doubt that it was Merlin Arthur had seen. What he didn't know were the circumstances of the situation. "Did you see anything else?"

"I saw… there was a girl, a child, with him… He called her Karanth." Arthur didn't mention what else he had seen in the moonlight. He didn't tell Gaius about the woman, her eyes cold as steel, watching in undisguised delight as Merlin screamed.

"And you saw it in the light of the moon?"

"Yes."

"I wonder…"

"Gaius?"

"There is powerful magic at work here, my lord, forces even beyond Morgana. I fear that someone has angered the Moon Goddess… and if she seeks revenge, may the gods help us all."

Arthur remembered his vision in the moonlight, and he shivered. Whether it was by some magic of the Moon Goddess, or fear for his servant, for once in his life, Arthur was truly scared.

oOo

A pure soul. A pure soul. The Moon Goddess could not believe her eyes. The girl, only ten years old, had just performed the most selfless act she had ever seen a mortal even think of attempting. And the Fateseeker's words ran through her mind once more:

...for Emrys possesses a truly pure soul, a rare thing among men.

Perhaps it was not as rare as he'd thought. Karanth had no idea of the power a pure soul held. Perhaps she would not even care. For to save Merlin, someone she had met but a few days past, she had placed herself at the mercy of Kyannor.

Bound by the ancient laws that mortals had forgotten and the gods still feared, Kyannor had no choice. She had to let them both go.

A pure soul.

Then she noticed someone watching. Arthur Pendragon had glimpsed the battle. The Moon smiled. The king was broken, a shell of his former self. Perhaps, she thought, all was not lost.

For though Arthur was the Once and Future King, who would unite the land of Albion, there was one thing he lacked. One thing the shadow of his father had blotted out.

A pure soul.

oOo

Merlin woke quite suddenly, and opened his eyes on darkness. Night had fallen during the excursion to the realm of the Moon. But when he tried to sit up, he found something amiss.

He was tied to a tree.

Oh no, he thought. Just my luck. I escape the Moon Goddess just to be captured by bandits. How likely is that to happen anyway? He heard a groan next to him and turned his head, expecting to see Karanth beside him.

Instead, there sat a tall, light-haired stranger. He was very tan and had deep green eyes. He was dressed in a ragged travelling cloak and some mismatched armour that he had pretty obviously stolen. There was a large bump on the side of his head, an indication that he had been knocked out.

"Em… who are you?" Merlin asked warily. The stranger's head snapped around and his eyes widened; he obviously hadn't expected anyone else to be there.

"I― what?" he stuttered, very confused.

"I'm Merlin," said the warlock, trying a different approach. "What's your name?" The stranger opened his mouth to reply when he was stopped by a high shriek coming from somewhere nearby.

"Let go of me! I have to find Merlin!"

"Karanth!" Merlin called, panic rising. She came into view, a large, rough-looking man dragging her behind him.

"Merlin!" she cried, almost sobbing with relief. But as more bandits came into the clearing, her expression wilted into fear.

"Pretty little thing, innit she?" said the man who appeared to be the leader of the gang. "Is she yours?"

"I don't belong to anyone!" yelled Karanth. "Let me go!"

"Please, you can do what you like with me, just let her go. She's only a girl," Merlin found himself rambling.

"I don't think so. I know a few slave-traders who would just love a gal like her."

"Let her go. Now." Merlin commanded, feeling his magic rise up inside him. "Or else."

"'Or else?' Ha! Or else what?"

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Merlin's eyes blazed a bright gold, brighter than the sun, and a wave of magic rippled out from him. The bandits were flung back by the sheer force of it, and the ropes binding Merlin― and the mysterious stranger― burned away.

"Come on," the warlock said to the stranger. "We've got to get out of here before―"

"You… you have magic," breathed the stranger.

"Yes, I do. Now will you get up? Or do you want to deal with those lovely fellows' friends?" The stranger started to get to his feet, but it was too late. Shouts filled the forest as the bandits came across the unconscious bodies of their friends, and soon they found themselves surrounded.

Merlin readied himself for another blast of magic, but then his eyes found a sight so horrific that all thoughts of using magic drained away from him.

The lead bandit, having recovered from the magical onslaught, held a dagger to Karanth's throat.

"Don't move, or she dies," the bandit growled, and Merlin dropped his outstretched arm. Instantly, a bandit grabbed him from behind and snapped a pair of iron manacles around his wrists. Merlin felt his magic recede in the presence of the hated metal. He was powerless.

The lead bandit laughed, a cold, mirthless sound.

And stopped.

He looked down at the sword protruding from his chest, and his eyes met the deep green eyes of the stranger, who seemed just as surprised as everyone else.

Then chaos ensued.

Merlin found himself flat on the ground, doing his best not to be trampled by the horde of bandits, who seemed helpless without their leader. The stranger cut down many of them in their haste to flee from the forest clearing.

And then, quite suddenly, they were alone. All the bandits were dead or escaped, and the stranger stood among the moonlit trees silently.

Without a word, he undid the iron manacles that bound Merlin, and ignoring the young sorcerer's thanks, went to see if Karanth was alright. Only then did he acknowledge their words.

"You saved my life. Both our lives," Merlin said.

"Well, I have some skill with the sword," the stranger muttered shyly.

"Nonsense. You were incredible, you could be a knight of Camelot!" Merlin said excitedly, then sobered when he remember how far from home he was. The stranger's confusion showed on his face, but he did not ask.

"What's your name?" Merlin asked, suddenly remembering his manners. "You never told me before. Oh, you already know me, Merlin, and this is my friend Karanth."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," the stranger replied formally. "My name is Galahad."