Chapter 10—White Skyline
Merlin watches as the battle ensues, the Gorinian assassins losing as their numbers dwindle to four. Aithusa was a turning point in the battle and now the dragon looks at Merlin and rises to fly away. Arthur and Gawain look at the white dragon as it disappears in the sky.
"Well that was fun," Gawain says. "Not every day you get a dragon on your side."
Arthur says nothing, but Merlin can't help but laugh—he always has dragons at his side.
As the knights finally surround the assassins that are now at three, Arthur offers them to surrender. They are insulted but must. They drop their swords before the knights of Camelot.
Merlin looks around for Lara—not caring if he has to use his magic in front of Arthur if that's what it takes to save her.
But then he hears someone approaching, unsure if it's Bronwyn or Lara.
—Merlin tenses when Bronwyn stumbles, weaponless, into the clearing. He is bleeding from his head, throat, chest and leg with leaves and dirt covering him. His eyes are frantic and full of fear. Blood lines his white teeth and he cries out as he sees Merlin and Arthur with his knights, all pointing their swords at the surrendered assassins.
The remaining three Gorinian assassins are thrown by their master's appearance.
"Gorian?" one says in confusion.
Bronwyn limps backward, trying to move away from them. But Merlin goes up to him and grabs the chest of his tunic.
"Where is she?" he growls into Bronwyn's face.
Bronwyn shakes his head. "You ruined my prodigy," he says shakily. "You ruined her."
Bronwyn pushes Merlin's hands away and runs frantically, limping with his damaged hip, away from them, distancing himself so he is lost in oblivion. He didn't even give the remainder of the Gorinian Alliance a glance.
"Merlin," Arthur begins cautiously.
"Lara!" Merlin calls out. Arthur grabs Merlin's arm and pulls him back by holding both of his shoulders.
"Merlin, stop," Arthur says to his friend. He looks sadly at Merlin as he calms.
Merlin doesn't feel as if he can breathe. He pushes Arthur away and turns his back to the king.
—Lara's eyes flash up from her reflection in Bronwyn's swords to a white dragon soaring across the sky past the obliviously concentrated Bronwyn.
She looks at Bronwyn then briefly.
Lara arches her back and grips her hands across Bronwyn's blade. She hooks her foot at Brownyn's ankle. He stumbles backward and she kicks upwards so her heel jams hard into his pelvis. Bronwyn cries out in the pain as his hip bone cracks and Lara slides both hands down his the length of his swords' blades, grabbing the hilts and pulsing her foot hard into her former mentor's chest.
Bronwyn falls backward and Lara pulls the swords from his hands. He hits his back on a boulder, his neck snapping painfully and Lara pressing the side of one sword to his throat and the other pointed between his eyes.
Lara's blood trickles from her hands onto Bronwyn's swords. She looks calmly in Bronwyn's eyes—his are full of fear. He breathes heavily with surprise and terror for his life. Lara shakes her head. He is more of a coward than he's ever revealed.
"Are you going to kill me, Mortis?" Bronwyn breathes heavily, stuttering in more than a few places.
Lara remains calm despite the fact that Bronwyn's life is in her hands, ready to be taken.
"You always did like questions," she says quietly. Then she slowly shakes her head. "Don't you get sick of blood, Bronwyn?" Bronwyn stares at her, fear prominent and glaring in his eyes. "I do."
Lara looks at him and shakes her head, pitying him. "I'm not going to kill you, Bronwyn," she says. His eyes flash with disbelief. "You're not good enough for that kind of release. You will leave and I will never hear your name again. I will never hear of any Gorinian assassins. The name Gorian has died and you will disappear into oblivion without any mark on man's history. Remember that you have earned your insignificance and that your prodigy—that Mortis has spared your useless life."
Bronwyn swallows deeply, eyes moving frantically and sweat mixing with blood on his forehead.
Lara takes a step back and pulls her swords from him. Bronwyn exhales deeply and clutches his hand to his throat. She turns, not looking at him again and begins walking away.
Bronwyn hyperventilates, staring at Lara's back, and scrambles away from her, climbing over rocks so he can escape her, unknowingly going toward Merlin and Arthur.
—Lara's feet moved on their own accord toward the west. She knew she was going in the opposite direction of Camelot, but she didn't turn around. She barely stopped on her pilgrimage, only to drink before continuing on, not sleeping or eating.
She didn't realize where she was going until she saw it: Marandia
The village where she was captured, where she and her parents spent for a year before she was taken and they were killed. The sea is just over past the cliffs where the village lies so the horizon is white and perfect as the sun rises. Her father got work as a fisherman there when they left the farm she was born in. But she remembers them being happy—feeling safe.
The villagers are just waking to begin their day. All the houses are at least fifteen years old, having been rebuilt after the Gorinian attack. Graves of white stones sit before the cliffs overlooking the great sea, marking who had died in that fateful attack that changed her life.
Lara finds herself before her parent's graves—marked simply and far away from the mausoleum that holds the knights deemed nobler than them. Lara feels they were braver than a majority of the nobles that fight by order of kings and warlords. They fought with purpose. For her.
Lara wonders what they would think if they knew—if they knew that their efforts to protect her from corruption were unsuccessful. But then she smiles because had they seen who she is now—now that she has been altered by Arthur, Gwyn, Gaius and Merlin above all, as well as Camelot—they would be proud.