"His name is Kilgharrah," Gwen informed them as she pulled a very old map from her backpack and rolled it out onto the table. "He's supposedly locked up in a mountain, here," she placed her finger on the map which was just north of where Merlin lived, "and the place is totally inaccessible by vehicle. Hell, I don't know if we can even make it on foot, but we have to try. Now. It's going to take about six or seven hours to get there, and then another four or five to traverse the caverns in which he's locked. I have a map, which should help, but I don't know how reliable it is. Hopefully we can get to him before dusk and set him free. If we do, we will have spoiled the Purge's plan and we will have hopefully avoided any Drinkers along the way, but if we don't... God help us all."
Gaius, Lance, and Merlin all nodded at her words. They knew what challenges awaited them if they didn't get to the dragon first.
Merlin sipped from his tea. Luckily for him, Uther, his wife, Hunith and Richard were out of town on a business trip as Richard had promoted Uther to his personal assistant—probably, Merlin thought, from the guilt of leeching the man dry. Merlin set down his cup and took a bite from his sandwich and watched as Gwen recited the plan she had formed.
"So... when are we leaving?"
The group turned to the kitchen doorway to find Arthur standing there. He had a baseball cap on, a very large and stuffed backpack hanging from his shoulders, and a knife on his belt. Gwen turned to Merlin, then to Arthur, then to Merlin again.
"You're shitting me... right? Like, no... seriously shitting me? This is a joke?" Gwen threw her hands in the air in disbelief.
Arthur gave her a confused look. "No... Merlin said he was going to talk to you about letting me come along on your adventure," he said uncertainly, raising himself on the tips of his toes as he said adventure like a kid trying to reach for the cookie jar. A large grin broke out on his face and some of his blond hair fell out from under his cap. Merlin's hunger immediately vanished and was replaced by pure awe and arousal.
Gwen shot Merlin a dirty look. "You told him he could come?" she said before swivelling back to Arthur and gazed up and down. Then she laughed, simply because Arthur who looked like he was ready to go camping rather than free a dragon. "No no no no no no no no no," she said. "You'd die... no worse, you'd get us all killed!"
"No... he won't."
Merlin stood up and walked over to Arthur. There was no way that he would be able to go this alone with strangers. He needed Arthur to be with him—he gave him strength. "He's my best friend, and I know he'd do anything to protect me. And besides," Merlin added, looking to Arthur tenderly and placing a hand on his shoulder, "it's about time he learned the truth."
"That you're a warlock?" Arthur asked.
Merlin all but dropped in his shock. "When did you find out?"
"Well," Arthur trailed off into a groan, lifting his hands behind his head as if he was in deep thought, "there was the time you slowed my fall when I fell, and that time you healed my arm... There was also that time you healed yourself, and when I watched you do the dishes at Gaius's..."
Merlin looked down at his shoes, blushing. "I didn't realize you even knew magic existed," he said.
"My mom's part witch," Arthur explained, "I don't really have any magic. Well, I've never tried, but I never showed promise so..."
Merlin never broke his gaze from Arthur's lips as he talked and when he was done, he could only think about how they were so red and full and—
"Oh my God, will you two get a ROOM?" Gwen yelled. Merlin and Arthur broke their trance on each other and turned to face her, blushing simultaneously. "He can come! The more the merrier!" Gwen walked up to Arthur and pulled out her dagger, quickly placing it at his throat. "But, mark my words Pendragon, you cross me and I'll have you put down like a sick dog."
Arthur gulped. He couldn't tell what was sharper—her gaze or her blade. He nodded quickly and she pulled her dagger back, re-sheathing it at her side before retreating back to the table where she began to roll her stuff up. "We don't have time to explain the plan to you, Arthur, so you're going to have to play it by ear. We leave in ten minutes."
The darkness of the morning was as cool as it was scary. Merlin, Arthur, Lance, and Gwen all started their hike through the woods after leaving Gaius at the house due his old age and feeling that he was too fragile for such a venture. Gwen lead the group, staying almost ten paces in front of everyone, doing her best to avoid the branches and roots that effortlessly tried to trip her up.
"So, who are you people?" Arthur asked eventually.
Gwen shook her head and gave a raspy, exaggerated sigh. Lance laughed at her and turned his head to answer. "We're Knights—we're the resistance against the Purge. We live to serve and protect all things magical, even if we aren't ourselves."
Arthur took a long look at Lance. "What's the Purge?"
"Oh my god!" Gwen exclaimed. "Are you going to be this annoying the entire time?"
"Sorry..." Arthur replied lamely. Merlin caught up with him and bumped into him with his shoulder playfully, and Arthur looked at him and bumped in a silent reply—well, apart from their backpacks clanging loudly and making noise as they—
Gwen stopped walking and turned around. "Do—you—want—everyone—to—know—we—are—coming?" she said slowly and angrily, as if they were mental. She pinched the bridge of her nose in a bid to calm herself and sighed. "Just stay quiet and everything will be... okay," she groaned out the last word, as if it was made of vomit and maggots but as if she were making herself believe it too.
As she turned abruptly to lead again, Arthur and Merlin chuckled at each other but listened and continued to walk quietly... for the next few minutes or so.
Merlin sat next to Arthur on the ground of the meadow that surrounded them. Arthur had laid out a blanket, and they were drinking from the finest gold the kingdom had to offer.
Arthur leaned in and kissed Merlin neck, bringing his hand up to ruffle his hair. Merlin turned to meet his lips, and they kissed feverishly.
When they broke, Arthur reached into his bag and pulled out a silver signet.
"This was my mother's..." Arthur said, and he reached his hand over to Merlin and held it out. "I want you to have it."
Merlin looked at Arthur in shock. It was a beautiful sigil that had a beautiful bird engraved on it. He opened his mouth to protest but Arthur placed his index finger on Merlin's lips, silencing him.
"Please... just take it."
Merlin took the sigil and held it dear in his hand and then gazed back to Arthur, a deep feeling of love and appreciation filling him.
"I'm hungry."
Gwen's hands twitched and she did her best to not strangle Arthur. She turned around slowly and plastered a smile on her face, which came out very forced, distorted and scary. "Is... anyone else... hungry... too?" Her voice rose slightly at the end of the sentence.
Merlin raised his hand and so did Lance.
Men, she thought. "Fine, okay. We'll set up a small fire here and then we'll eat some of the food that I've packed, but no more stops after this—I don't care if you're going to piss your trousers." She sighed. "Lance," she pointed to him, "go and get stones. Merlin, Arthur, go get firewood. I'll unpack." They stood there for a second and looked at her. "Did I stutter? Go GO GO GO MOVE YOUR ASSES!" she yelled, and the men scrambled about and ran off to different places of the woods, doing their best to not make her angry.
Gwen placed a hand on her hip and smiled. Being a woman in this century was amazing.
As they gathered firewood on Gwen's orders, Merlin did his best to stay near Arthur without making it too obvious. He would diagonally trail to him, pretending like he saw a really good piece of wood and then he'd brisk walk to it, over and over, and Arthur seemed to notice because he would do the same thing. Merlin couldn't help but smile every time Arthur got a few feet closer. Merlin felt his life, like it was a fire, bright and hot and powerful but also so delicate and limited, as if the smallest thing could put it out.
Arthur picked up a piece of dry wood and placed it into his arms. He looked over at Merlin who was doing the same thing. His eyes skimmed up and down Merlin's skinny legs as he bent over to get a piece of wood and inadvertently licked his lips and continued to pick up wood, admiring Merlin from afar. Arthur felt a tight pinch in his back and chest; he looked down to see a sharp metal point protruding.
He numbly ran his fingers over it and as he felt the blood seep from the wound, registering the sensation, he fell forward onto his knees.
Merlin could sense the snap in Arthur's essence and heard the sound of something fall a second later. He didn't even need to turn around to know what had happened.
Arthur.
Merlin ran to him, his footsteps loud as he broke branches and twigs in his haste. He landed beside Arthur and tried to gauge the situation. There's a fifteen inch arrow which is most likely puncturing his left lung. He's most likely bleeding out internally and externally and the people that did this are—Merlin lifted his head just in time to stop the arrow that was just inches from his face.
He looked into the distance and saw a masked archer duck in and out of trees. Merlin felt his anger and passion build, and immediately channelled his magic. He reversed the arrow and launched it, using his magic to extend the distance from him and the masked man, as to facilitate acceleration. He heard the air break as it shattered the sound barrier and then collapsed the distance between them as the arrow accelerated into the tree and through the masked archer.
Merlin saw blood fly at least fifteen yards if not more from the tree, and felt himself calm down.
He looked down at Arthur, who looked so peaceful, and felt his tears well up. He knew he didn't have much time. He reached down and picked Arthur up, using magic to levitate his body. They had medical supplies and healing enchants in their bags at camp—Merlin could save him. He began the half a mile trail back to, what would hopefully be, safety.
"Holy shit!"
Gwen and Lance ran over to Merlin and Arthur as soon as they emerged through the trees. Gwen took Arthur's body and rested it upon the ground and Lance ran to his bag to get supplies.
Arthur's face was pale and he was unresponsive, and Gwen placed her fingers on his neck and checked his pulse. She waited for a few seconds before sighing in relief and then begun to tear Arthur's shirt to look at the wound.
"What happened?" she asked loudly.
"He was... shot," Merlin responded lamely.
"Wha – no really? I never would've guessed," she snapped, and when Merlin gave her a hurt look, she backed off. "Look, never mind, I'll ask later." She returned her gaze to Arthur and began to inspect the wound. "He has a pulse but it's barely there. Lance, quick, we need to re-inflate his lung and remove the arrow." At this, Lance yelled from his bag and he began to shuffle through for supplies. Gwen turned to Merlin. "Do you know any healing spells?"
"Uhm... yeah a few, lemme get my book," Merlin replied.
"No!" Gwen yelled. "We don't have time for that! He's going to die any minute now from the lack of oxygen getting to his brain and the loss of blood. You need to do something now." She gave Merlin a fierce look, as he looked down at Arthur. He didn't even look alive anymore. His body was still and blue against the green grass and the light that pierced the canopy didn't reflect a single ounce of life back from his body. Merlin placed both hands on Arthur's chest and let his magic run through him, into Arthur's heart, into his soul. His hands began to glow before slowly fading.
The warlock looked down at Arthur, hopeful.
Nothing.
Merlin was feeling the life force leave his body. Gwen noticed it too, and gave Merlin a shocked look just as Lance returned with a pair of pliers, a bottle, and a tube. He handed them over but realized that Merlin was weeping and Gwen had her head in her hands, obviously shaken by the events that had just happened. The forest was quiet, as if they too were holding a moment of silence for the lost king.
"He's not gone," Merlin stated. The wind began to blow ominously and the trees shook. "I won't let him leave me. No – no, not like this." The clouds rolled in and began to cry and bleed with thunder and rain.
Gwen grabbed her hair and looked around confused and her eyes landed on Merlin. Lance ran to her to pull her back.
Merlin's body rose a few feet off the ground. Magic began to erupt from somewhere deep inside him, from a place he didn't even know existed or understand. His eyes glazed white with power, with absolution, his body crackling and ringing as energy arched and flung from his body. He held out his hands and brought them to his chest, the grass beneath him and Arthur was purged of life and the ground stained black. Arthur's body remained lifeless, breathless, dead. Merlin looked to the sky.
"Dægrædléomablétse!"
A bright white light poured from the ground below Arthur, tendrils of black spawned and began to wrap themselves around Arthur. Merlin's hands extended out wards and he spun slowly above Arthur. Energy continued to flow from Merlin outwards, slicing and destroying tree branches, scarring the ground and scorching it with fire. The tendrils continued to twist and turn and began to lift Arthur from the ground, suspending him in the air.
Arthur was now level with Merlin. Merlin floated a few steps towards him and rested his hand on Arthur's head. He could still feel a little energy left—it was just enough. Merlin felt the power well up and overflow from inside of him. He leaned forwards, no longer seeing Arthur's physical body but instead his spirit. He leaned in further, a Seed of Life between his lips, and he pressed them against Arthur, sewing the seed into Arthur's soul.
Arthur began to twitch and then gasped for air. His wounds began to heal and the blood he lost began to flow from the ground up into him. Merlin manipulated his hands as he molded Arthur's life back into him, stitching his soul back into his body and weaving Arthur's life with his own, the Seed the catalyst. Arthur was conscious for only a few seconds before fading back into unconsciousness. The tendrils began to lower Arthur to the ground, and Merlin began to slowly descend with him. His hands still running over Arthur, he could see everything, could see Arthur's soul, could see strings of light bind and twist into Arthur's soul and through his body. He watched as he used his own life, his own magic, to bind and purge; his wound, his corruption.
Gwen stared at the ritual. She and Lance had retreated far into the distance, out of harm's way. She looked up at Lance who was holding onto her for dear life. Lance's eyes never left Merlin.
"I thought all resurrection magic was... darkness," she said, almost asking the sentence rhetorically. Her eyes returned to the blinding white light. Her body shook from the view of such a fantastic thing.
"I thought so too," Lance whispered, holding her more tightly.
Merlin raised his hands into the air, the light brighter than ever. The clouds had become so dark that not an ounce light was breaking through. Merlin and Arthur were the only source of luminescence for miles, like a lighthouse; his ritual the shell, his magic the fire, and his love the source.
"Blæd, insegle!"
Merlin brought his hands together and the light became blinding. Gwen and Lance looked away and covered their eyes as a loud bang filled the air, shadowed by a high pitched hum which quickly faded. Gwen and Lance looked back to the scene.
Merlin and Arthur lay there, unmoving, apparently lifeless.
"Shit," the woman cursed.
Gwen grabbed Lance's hand and they both ran to them, hoping Merlin hadn't killed both Arthur and himself in his resurrection rite.