And worry he did. He was no longer aware if hours or mere minutes had passed since the last time he had glanced at the clock, his heartbeat a steady thrum against his ribcage as his body unconsciously tried to make up for lost time, only too aware that this could be the last night of his life.

The more he told himself that he needed to sleep, the more awake he felt. He might not even live long enough to attempt to sleep in the arena. Breath catching in his throat, Merlin rolled restlessly onto his back, staring at the ceiling and recounting the interviews to distract himself.

Arthur had been his usual prattish self, his hair gleaming golden in the limelight. But the crowd had loved it, begging for more time when the buzzer had sounded. Morgana had gone the beautiful and mysterious route, and had played it well judging by the expressions on the faces of the young men in the attendance. Gwaine had been Merlin's favorite- he had spent the entirety of the District Two boy's interview laughing despite his nerves. There were several tributes, however, that sent shivers down Merlin's spine. Morgause; cold and calculating, Valiant; Sadistic and brutal despite his name, and Mordred. The boy from District Twelve had seemed nice enough if not more than a bit mysterious. Yet there was something about him that made Merlin's blood run cold.

He mentally ran through the interviews over and over until, exhausted, sleep finally found him.

He was flying, soaring through the night sky, the air light and cool against his skin. Gliding over the ocean of treetops, he suddenly spotted a castle in the distance, the moonlight shining of gleaming white marble turrets and giving the fortress an ethereal glow. A rush of sensations enveloped him; fear, love, anger, grief, friendship. The scene flickered, and the castle was cloaked in flames, greedily licking their way up the walls. Another second and the destruction was gone. He tasted blood, bitter and metallic, smelled wildflowers from the meadow back home. Suddenly the sky brightened and Merlin found himself falling… falling…

Merlin jerked his head back with a start, gripping the bedding like a lifeline. He took in several deep, shuddering breaths. He wasn't falling. He was safe in bed until tomorrow morning when he would be taken to the arena- taken to his death. Oh god, the Games… The clock read 3:05 AM.

Groaning in frustration, Merlin rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in the mattress and stuffing the pillow over his head with both hands. This time he tried thinking about home and all the good times he had enjoyed with Will and his mother. The memories brought a smile to his face and tears to his eyes, and he slipped back into slumber with a slight smirk lifting the corners of his mouth as he recalled the time he and Will had hung Old Man Sweeney's underwear from the school flagpole. They had never been caught, and had spent weeks innocently telling anyone who would listen who they thought had hung the offending undergarments. His mother had of course seen right through it, and the two boys had received quite the verbal lashing. Finally, Merlin reachieved a state of fitful sleep until morning.

Sunrise brought Gaius to Merlin's door, knocking quietly before pushing the door open with a heavy heart. He knew firsthand the pure terror one experienced the night before the Games, and expected that Merlin hadn't been an exception. His charge was thrashing around the king-sized bed in the throes of a nightmare, groaning and crying out. Gaius rushed over to the boy's bedside, only to have the sheets fly magically through the air and land right on his head.

Working desperately to disentangle himself from the offending bedding, he called, "Merlin! Wake up!"

Shoving the blankets onto the floor, he grabbed Merlin by the arm and shook him roughly awake. The boy sat up groggily, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He was quite a sight to behold with his shirt pulled over to one shoulder and his hair standing on end. Gaius would have burst out laughing had he not suspected that something important had just happened.

"It was just a dream… just a dream…" mumbled Merlin to himself, struggling to rise. Gaius blocked his path.

"What did you see?" he insisted, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

Merlin shook his head. "It made no sense."

"Try explaining it anyway," Gaius pressed. "It could be important."

"I was running through the woods… but I don't know where I was…" began Merlin, "and I heard footsteps behind me, so I turned around. The entire forest behind me was on fire. And someone ran toward me, grabbed my arm, and told me to run… I think it might have actually been Arthur… Then I looked down and he had this… this mark… on the inside of his wrist. It looked like a druidic symbol to me, but I can't say for sure. Then the scene changed, and I saw a dagger flying directly toward Arthur and no matter what I did, I couldn't stop it. Right before it hit him, I woke up. Why did Arthur of all people have a magic-related symbol on his arm? And why do I feel like I've seen it before?" mused Merlin, running a hand through his tousled hair.

Gaius grabbed the magic book off the nightstand and leafed through it urgently. "We need to hurry to get you to the hovercraft on time," he said, motioning for Merlin to stand up. "Go change and tidy up while I look up druidic symbols in here."

Merlin hastily turned to the closet and pulled on a black shirt and pants before heading to the sink to splash icy water on his face. He returned to Gaius's side, who was busily scanning each page. Merlin's eyes flashed gold and the pages flipped, coming to a stop after several seconds. Gaius looked at the boy part in astonishment, part in annoyance before following Merlin's gaze down to the bottom of the page where a triangular spiral mark was displayed.

"The druidic Triskelion, pictured above, is often used to symbolize fate; the three protruding spirals representing the three states of time- past, present, and future," Gaius read aloud. "The Druidic prophecy of Albion mentions such a symbol in the third paragraph-"he stopped.

"What? What does it say?" demanded Merlin.

Gaius shook his head, tracing his index finger along the bottom of the page. "This is strange. The writing seems to just stop." He turned the page, only to find a new section on the uses of manticore venom.

Celeste pushed her head around the door, a nervous Gwen on her left. "What on earth are you doing? Come on, chop chop! We need to board the hovercraft. It's already two minutes after we were supposed to be there!"

Gaius reluctantly shut the book and the two of them hurried after her. They stepped into the elevator and sped up to the roof, Merlin realizing belatedly that this could be the last he ever saw of that building. His stomach clenched, and he numbly followed Celeste's receding back over to the hovercraft, a dark mass against the pale orange sky of dawn.

A strange sensation came over him, and he found he was frozen in place. Panic rose in his throat as his immobile body was lifted off the ground. Was it possible to die before even entering the arena? He rose into the bowels of the hovercraft and a woman with a syringe approached him, brandishing the needle dangerously.

"This is your tracker. With this the gamemakers can keep tabs on you in the arena," she explained before jabbing the point under the skin of his forearm and releasing. Merlin winced, but it didn't hurt as much as he was expecting it to. Gaius placed a hand on his shoulder and led him over to a seat as the windows darkened and the hovercraft took off.

Since the view out the windows had already been obstructed, Merlin realized the arena must be fairly close to the Capitol this year. They must also be starting the Games earlier than usual, for the tributes in past years only had to wake up early if the arena required several hours of air travel to get to. That way the show could start at noon, a convenient time for those in the Capitol who resented waking up before that time.

They were only ten minutes into the ride when Merlin's stomach dropped and they began their descent. They stepped out below the arena in what the Districts called the stockyard, for that's what it was. The place where tributes waited for the games to start, no better off than beasts awaiting slaughter.

Gaius herded Merlin into his launching room and shut the door, guiding him over to a chair by the breakfast table, which was laden with food of all kinds.

"Eat up!" Gaius urged. "You'll need your strength. And be sure to drink plenty of water. You never know where you'll find it in the arena."

Merlin sank down into the empty seat and stared listlessly at the food in front of him, his stomach churning at the thought of consuming any of it. "I can't eat now!" he protested.

"You must!" argued Gaius, shoving a spoon into his hand. Merlin handed it back.

"I don't think I'll be able to stomach anything."

Gaius pointed the spoon at Merlin's face threateningly. "Eat, or else I'll make you, and I don't think you'll enjoy that."

The ghost of a smile crossed Merlin's face. "Are you threatening me with a spoon?"

Gaius grinned and busied himself spooning a generous helping of porridge into a bowl. "Here, since you seem to love the porridge so much, eat this. Make that revolting recipe if you must, but please eat."

Merlin obliged, pouring his usual syrup and berries on top as the older man turned away in mock disgust. The porridge tasted like dust in his mouth and felt like cement sliding down his throat, but he forced himself to swallow bite after bite.

Meanwhile, Gaius had unwrapped Merlin's outfit for the games and was now frowning in confusion. He held up a pair of thin yet durable cotton pants, a blue, long-sleeved shirt, and a lightweight brown jacket as well as a pair of sturdy boots perfect for running.

"Looks like the arena will be rather temperate climate-wise this year," he muttered. "But I can't tell much else from this outfit."

Merlin shrugged, downing a glass of water and taking the clothes over to a curtained-off area to change. He emerged from behind the screen tying the neckerchief securely at his collar with trembling fingers when a robotic female voice announced that he had, "Sixty seconds until launch." Gaius helped him don his jacket and then pulled him into a tight hug.

"Good luck, my boy," he breathed into Merlin's ear. "Your destiny awaits." Merlin pulled away, Gaius holding him at arm's length. "Don't be afraid to use your talents. But be careful."

Merlin nodded mutely, his pulse roaring in his ears and his palms sweating already. His hands shook uncontrollably. "Goodbye, Gaius. Thank you. For everything."

The older man's eyes watered and he hugged Merlin again. "I'm betting on you, Emrys," he murmured.

Merlin forced his legs to carry him over to the metal launch pad and he stepped gingerly up onto the disk, remembering uncomfortably the year a girl had stepped off early and had been blown sky-high by the landmines surrounding her plate.

"Ten seconds until launch," the voice announced.

A glass screen lowered around him and Gaius waved sadly. The plate began to rise and Merlin's heart rose into his throat. He was going to die! He was going to die!

The launch room disappeared beneath him and there was only darkness as the tube continued its inexorable ascent. A searing pain suddenly erupted along Merlin's right forearm, and he clasped his hand to it instinctively, hissing in agony as a pain five times that of the tracker injection enveloped it, fading into a dull throb. He would have been sick then and there if not for his fear of what would happen if his weight were to shift dramatically on the plate.

Cautiously pushing up his sleeve and straining his eyes against the dim lighting, Merlin froze in shock. The Triskelion! Just like the one he had seen on Arthur's forearm in his dream! Then it hit him; why that symbol had seemed so familiar. It had glowed on the wall in his vision about his and Arthur's births! He fingered the mark gently, the skin hot to the touch. What was going on?

Light flooded his view and he blinded rapidly to clear his vision as his launch pad emerged into the brilliant morning light. Ready or not, the Games had begun!