"Hello, Arthur. I did not think I would see you here," said the Callieach. She looked over his shoulder at the hall before him. "I see you have defeated my minions." The hag laughed a little. It was a cold and heartless sound.

"Where's Merlin." Arthur demanded as he sheathed the sword Excalibur and then crossed his arms over his chest to try to ward off some of the cold.

"Emrys is over there," replied the gray-skinned woman. She pointed one, gnarled finger towards a shivering figure who lay on his side on the ground. Every so often, a broken sob or moan would escape his lips.

"His name is Merlin," growled the King as he stored forward. He stopped when the Callieach put her hand out. "What do you want? I need to see to him. He's obviously hurt. He needs me."

"Emrys can wait a minute more. You're not done with your tasks. Samhain Eve is nearly upon us. The veil will open and you must stop it."

"You want me to sacrifice myself for this..." Arthur muttered in a grave voice. It was not a question. Arthur knew the answer to his question and head prepared to face this event head on.

"You were willing once. Why not now?" asked the woman who was draped in heavy black and ash gray robes, skirts, and dresses.

"I still am," he replied. The young man's voice rose as he exclaimed the last word. "Do not question my intent. I will do what I must to save my friend. If I am saving my kingdom from the dorocha then I am doing an even better service."

"Do you know what is to be done? Are you willing?" she asked as she stared at Arthur with a sad expression on her face. The Callieach's lips turn downwards and a haunted look shined him her dark eyes that had bags sagging under them. Her voice was regal as she said her words with an even tone.

"Yes, I am," replied the King.

"Ah, but it is not your time. What now will you do? Who will be your sacrifice for Emrys?"

"You," said Arthur. He spoke with firmness and with power. "And his name is Merlin!"

"Emrys has more than one name. Merlin is but one of them," replied the Callieach. She smiled thinly at Arthur. His words seemed to bemuse her. "But, yes, I will be your sacrifice."

Before the hag could change her mind, Arthur ran forward. Taking the woman by the shoulders, he shoved her through the ripping veil. Watching the fabric of life and death close, he shivered and rubbed his eyes. Arthur wasn't sure if he truly believed what he had just seen and experienced. What had just happened (from the first moment here up until now) seemed so surreal. When Merlin moaned weakly, Arthur tore his attention away from the supernatural event and raced over to his servant.

He knelt beside the warlock and examined him from head to foot. Merlin's face was a dusky gray. His lips were a pale purple and there were deep circles around his sunken eyes. Tearing his gaze away from the warlock's face, he gawked at the young man's abdomen. Right where his father's wound had been was a bloody spot.

Pressing a hand against the wound, Arthur realized Merlin was still bleeding. He needed to get him back to Gaius and fast. Arthur did not know how much time they had left, but Arthur had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't very long. As the King lifted Merlin from the ground and cradled the body close, the warlock opened his eyes and stared at his master.

"I'm sorry. It should've worked," whispered Merlin. His voice was faint and very weak. When he coughed, his brow furrowed in apparent pain. The man closed his eyes and leaned his head against Arthur's chest.

To be frank, Arthur was pleased the young man before him had closed his eyes. The glassy and lifeless look that clouded the usually bright and lively eyes had been unnerving. It was as if Merlin was staring at something far away. It was something that Arthur could see. A look of resignation had settled into those eyes as well as the lines of his face. It seemed, to Arthur, that Merlin knew he could die here and had come to terms with that fact. The King did not like seeing that expression on his servant's face.

"It's my fault. I am the one who should be sorry. Now, I want you to rest. We can talk later. Right now, all you have to do is rest," Arthur demanded in a quiet voice. "This is an order. I'm your King. You have to listen to me."

Tiredly, the corners of Merlin's lips turn upwards in an attempt of a smile. It faded after only a moment or two. "Prat," the warlock mouthed.

"Idiot," replied Arthur with his own slight smile. He was about ready to life Merlin from the cold floor of the ruin, when a wind picked up. The King wrapped his arms around the wounded warlock and shielded him with his body.

"What do you think you're doing," asked a woman. Her voice was cold and hard as a grave. It made Arthur look up.

Before him was a woman with long, dark hair, twisted and bound. She cloaked herself in a black, gauzy dress that hugged her curves. Set into her pale face, were inky black eyes and full-red lips. The woman had a heartless air about her.

"Who are you?" demanded Arthur as he pulled Merlin closer to him.

"What's it to you?" she asked, stepping forward.

"Everything…"

"And nothing," she said, circling the two of them. "My name is Zilla and you've taken my prize."

"You're the Fomhóire, aren't you?"

"You're a smart one. Yes, I am. Now, I'd like the little warlock. You're free to go."

"I'm not leaving without him."

"Oh really?" Zilla said. Her words were tinged with laughter.

"Really. Let me get him to back to Gaius and then you can have me. You can do whatever you want with me"

"Oooh, very well," she replied after thinking about the deal for a moment. "I want your word…in blood."

Arthur gulped. He then nodded. Watching the woman come towards he, the King lowered Merlin back to the ground and then took off his glove (which he laid beside him).

From a pocket in her dress, Zilla withdrew a thin dagger and parchment. The woman grabbed the King's wrist and drew it up closer to her. With the blade, she poked Arthur's finger until it bled.

Arthur stared at the blood as if bubbled on his fingertip. He turned it over and began to write – A-R-T…. Before he could finish his first name, there was a scream.

"Acwele!" Merlin shouted. His eyes were wide open. For a moment, the flashed gold and Zilla screamed as her body was encompassed with light. When the brightness faded, she was gone.

"What did you do," asked a panicked King. He looked down at Merlin just in time to see his eyes fade. The warlock made a slight whimpering sound as he eyes rolled back in his head. With eyelids closing, he slumped to the ground and lay there – lifeless.