Chapter 9: Arthur's Dream

Arthur's POV

Arthur was drifting.

He was floating around in a substance that was neither liquid, solid nor gas. It swirled around him, shifting from a cobalt blue to the deepest crimson, enveloping him in a feeling of peace. Arthur had a sense of deja vu, like he should know where he was. It seemed oddly familiar to him, but he didn't quite know why. Oh, how he just wanted to curl up, and sleep, sleep forever. Hazy images drifted past his line of sight, memories of Camelot. All sound was muffled beneath a comforting humming noise, and Arthur felt his eyelids drooping, himself fading.

"Arthur."

A voice was calling him. Who was it? Was it Merlin? Who was Merlin? All he knew was what was here.

"Arthur."

His name echoed through the abyss, a contrast to the muted sounds. He sleepily swatted away the voice as if it were a physical thing. Leave me, he thought.

"Arthur, you've got to wake up, or you'll be lost forever."

Wake up? He was awake.

"No. Open your eyes..."

Arthur realised that his eyes were, indeed, closed, but he could still see where he was. How was that possible?

"Open your eyes, Arthur."

He didn't want to. This place had lulled him into comfort, and he never wanted to leave.

"Arthur! Open your eyes!"

The voice was sharper now, the tone more demanding. With great trepidation, he forced his lids open. And he gasped.

Before him was a beautiful city. Glittering towers twisted elegantly towards the sun, which was not the usual blinding white, but a deep purple set against a golden sky, as if the sky was permanantly in sunset. The grass was a rich green, much darker than it's usual colour. Modest huts, like the ones from his time, were sprawled out on the emerald field slightly to the left of him. A few dragons roamed the sky above him, accompanied by several other winged beasts. Out of the woods next to him, where the trees were a royal blue, a herd of beautiful unicorns cantered softly. Creatures of all species walked the roads and streets, the majority being people, with abnormally pointed ears.

However, wherever Arthur looked, a cloud of mist fogged his view. Arthur tried to walk through it, but couldn't even set one foot inside it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shift this wall of inpenetrable air.

"Hello, Arthur."

The voice sounded a lot closer now, Arthur registered.

"That's because I am closer."

Are you reading my mind? Arthur thought angrily.

"No, your thoughts are being projected very intensly though. It's remarkable, the velocity of them. I'm coming."

He's coming? Arthur squinted through the mist, and saw a figure walking towards him, slowly taking shape. Then the figure emerged fully from the miat. He had a mop of curly hair, light blue-green eyes and a face that had not yet lost it's boyish roundness. He smiled at Arthur, his eyes crinkling up happily. Arthur sought inside of him, because he knew he should be consumed with hatred at the sight of this boy, but only felt satisfaction, for some reason.

"Hello, Mordred."

Merlin's POV

Merlin woke up to hearing Arthur muttering loudly upstairs. Groaning, he tried to block out the noise, but Arthur spoke louder still. Who knew that Arthur Pendragon spoke in his sleep? Suddenly, Arthur shouted, albeit slurred; "MERLIN!"

"Gah!" Merlin sat bolt upright and grabbed his watch from the floor. Twenty past six in the morning. He swung his legs out of bed. "For God's sake" he mumbled to himself, and scratched his head, his eyes still half closed. Hauling himself up, he fumbled along the wall until he found the lightswitch and turned it on, cringing away at the sudden harsh brightness.

Merlin took in the scene in front of him. Clothes were strewn haphazardly across the floor, along with several blankets and what seemed to be the remains of a few broken plates. Merlin sighed. Huh. He'd gotten used to waking up to a clean room, his magic having not wreaked havoc in the night. He smiled reminiscently, remembering when Gaius first found his room in a complete state, thanks to his magic. He sighed again and looked at each of the objects in turn, feeling a burn behind his eyes as the shirts soared back to the wicker chair or the washing basket in the kitchen, the plates to deposit themselves in the bin and the blankets to fold themselves neatly on the settee. Merlin smiled contentedly at his handiwork.

Upstairs, Merlin heard Arthur start up his incessant muttering again, so he rubbed his eyes wearily and opened the door, flicking the hall and landing lights on. Walking up the stairs, he listened to the sound of the wind whistling and howling outside, and pitied the poor souls that had to be out there.

Merlin reached Arthur's (or his?) room and walked in. Arthur was flat on his bad in the middle of the bed, the covers kicked off him, and hisd head was frantically twisting from side to side, muttering his lungs out. Merlin cleared his throat, hoping the sound would disrupt Arthur's slumber and cause him to shut up. However, Arthur's eyeballs started rolling madly beneath their lids. Merlin guessed he was having a bad dream and decided to wake him up. He strode over to where he lay and leaned over him.

"Arthur, wake up!"

Arthur's POV

Mordred smiled. "I see you have finally risen"

"Where am I?" Arthur asked, gesturing to the scene. Mordred's smile faded slightly, and what was left of it turned wry. "Let's just say it's Hell to be here."

"Hell?" Arthur repeated, confused. "But..are you sure?"

"Don't be decieved by looks, Arthur. They have fooled many others before you. Do not be one to fall for their traps," Mordred said gravely.

"Right..and, er-how are you?" Arthur asked, uncomfortable. He was looking into the face of the boy he killed, after all.

"Arthur, we don't have much time. In answer to your question about the mist, it's called Dust, you can't get through because your not, well-dead."

"Right." Arthur said again, eyeing the Dust warily, as if it might engulf him. Mordred strode forwards and went to put his arms on Arthur's shoulders, but his arms passed right through him. "Never mind, then. Listen, as soon as you get out of here, grab Merlin and run. Fire is coming."

"Fire?" Arthur echoed.

"Yes, fire," Mordred said, a little impatiently. "Look for the sorcerer prince, he'll help you find the Fates and Empaths-they're vitally important."

"Wha-? Sorcerer prince? Empaths? What are you on about?" Arthur cried. Mordred wrung his hands wretchedly.

"I can't tell you anything else, not now. Trust me, if I could tell you everything I know, I would-but I can't. I know this is going to make no sense right now, and I'm sorry. Also, you'll meet a girl, she'll tell you lots, she'll know more and can help you. She's also vitally important, don't kill her." Mordred was rushing now, panic in his eyes. The sound of someone clearing their throat echoed behing them.

"Arthur, you've got to go now-"

"What? You can't just leave me with this!" Arthur cried, incrudelous.

"Tell Merlin everything I've told you-he'll know what to do. Arthur, I'm sorry, for my betrayal, for everything I did-"

Footsteps cut him off.

"Arthur, you really have to go, or you'll be trapped here forever. And for God's sake, don't forget-"

"ARTHUR, wake up!" A voice shattered Arthur's dream. It fragmented like a kaleidoscope, and the ground cracked beneath Arthur. Mordred's face was one of utter terror, and he started to fade away. "Forget what?" Arthur screamed at his rapidly fading image. "What musn't I forget?"

The ground gave away completely and Arthur tumbled into a void, his hands grasping uselessly at the blackness. The hole was never ending, and it stank of hatred and screams of the tortured echoed through it. Arthur heard himself shouting Mordred's name. Broken images of the strangest things flew past him. For a brief period, a pair of eyeballs and toothless mouth followed him, before spinning off into abyss. A woman with three heads hanging up shrunken heads on a washing line. A hound as big as night, snapping and growling at a screaming pair of children. A man with a metal contraption for a head, tears streaking the otherwise emotionless face. There were occasional flashes of colour and some manic laughter haunted Arthur.

This has to be a dream, Arthur thought. That's right. I'll open my eyes and I'll be back in my bed. He decided to put this theory into practice. He squeezed his eyes shut, shutting himslef away from the horror before him. All he could feel now was the wind rushing through his hair and the empty blackness enveloping him. It really was folding him in, pressing his chest as if a ton of rock were set on top of him, pushing his eyeballs into the back of his head, and it was like his bones were turning to liquid, he was going to die from this, he knew it-and his eyes snapped open.

The bones in his spine juddered, and Arthur greedily dragged in gulp after gulp of air. Beads of sweat were standing out on his forehead, and his eyes struggled to focus on something. As soon as his vision cleared, he saw Merlin's worried face looming above him.

Merlin smiled, obviously relieved. However, his expression turned to one of shock as Arthur sat up and punched him on the arm. Not gently, either. "Merlin!" he yelled angrily. Then he remembered the-should he call it a dream?-that he'd just had, and horrific realisation dawned.

"Oh-Merlin, we've got to get out-" Arthur swung his legs out of bed. "Fire is coming-"

"Arthur, you're not making any sense!" Merlin scolded. "Sit down and explain. Calmly."

"Merlin, you don't understand!"

"Too right I don't" Merlin scowled.

"Mordred said-"

"Mordred?" Merlin said, brow wrinkled in confusion. "I don't understand."

Arthur took a deep breath. "Mordred came to me in a...dream. He said I should grab you and get out, because fire is coming."

"Where were you?" Merlin asked, his eyes now sparkling.

"He said it was like Hell-" he broke off at Merlin's sharp intake of breath. "What?" he frowned.

"Never mind." Merlin waved. "Anything else?"

"Yes-we should find the sorcerer prince, Fates and Empaths." Merlin's nostrils flared. "And I had to remember to take something before we fled."

"What was that?" Merlin said, for some reason through gritted teeth.

"I don't know. You woke me up before he could say" Arthur replied with an accusatory glare. Merlin sat heavily on the end of the bed, but Arthur hauled him up again. "We don't have time for that! We've got to go!"

And that was when the first fireball rocked the house.