A/N: Thank you all for your support! As I promised, here is some action…
Chapter 12: The siblings' duel
Arthur trembled on his knees, couldn't do anything other than watch as the final part of the ritual was being set in place. His eyes never left Morgana, who in her trance-like state looked even more intimidating and dangerous than before. He audibly gasped when he saw her raising one hand, the other one still clutched on the lying warlock's forehead, holding a stone decorated silver dagger. No, it can't be the time of the sacrifice… Not yet!
He felt desperate, a chocking feeling rising in his throat. Worse of all, Lord Merlin looked like he had stopped fighting his fate, all power seeming to had left him. He just lay there, unmoving and pale, looking for all the world like he was already dead. I cannot just stand here and do nothing while Morgana kills… he paused mid thought, because he suddenly realized his hands were loose, nearly free. Doubting his enemies would be stupid enough to no longer consider him a threat, Arthur came to the only logical conclusion. That someone had set him free, using magic. Help had arrived at last.
He scanned the area around him. The sorcerers surrounding the altar were on their knees, heads low, praying for the rite to be completed. No one seemed to notice anything was amiss.
As the ritual closed to its final act, Morgana raised the dagger over Lord Merlin's heart, holding it with both hands now, its blade gleaming in the pale starlight.
Arthur couldn't waste time to think, he just acted instinctively. With a deafening roar, he shot forwards, attacking his sister from the side, tackling her to the ground, his hand going to her wrists. For a single moment, all sound disappeared, as everyone around them held their breath in shock.
A second after that, all hell broke loose.
Arthur focused on Morgana, struggling to remove the dagger from her tight grasp. His fingers were bleeding from the shallow cuts she had managed him, but he succeeded in knocking it off. At that same moment, the witch let out an angry scream and shoved him off her with a surge of magic, sending him flying over a distance.
All around the altar the battle was raging. Many of the enemy sorcerers were turned towards one direction, from which they were being relentlessly attacked by countless massive fire balls, lightings and whirlwinds. Arthur shakily rose to his feet and for a moment he saw a disheveled young Merlin blasting away his attackers with a powerful spell. Other sorcerers were clashing with a group of knights, swords and lights dancing in between them. It looked like there were one or two magic users helping Camelot's forces, because some of the knights were being shielded. Arthur run to join them, grabbing a sword one of the knights -Sir Leon- threw at him and almost immediately shoved it in one of his enemy's chest.
More men came from within the ruined castle; most of them looking like simple soldiers. Arthur and the knights began disposing them immediately.
Morgana's anger was palpable. She was still on the ground, amidst all the fighting and screaming, searching for her dagger. When she eventually found it, she turned again to face the altar, not caring about the fate of her followers. She was too far gone, all logical thought abandoned… The only thing that mattered to her was completing the ritual, claiming Emrys' ultimate power. She picked up from where she was before being interrupted; her dagger was raised in triumph and then driven into Lord Merlin's chest.
It didn't have the chance to pierce skin though, because the witch was attacked from behind. She screeched in agony reaching to press her right side with her free hand, blood pouring freely from the deep wound she had suffered. Her eyes turned to gold as she tried to fight her attacker, who was none other than King Arthur himself, but his sword stood again in the way. He used the sword's blade to repel the spell she sent his way. Its shining metal absorbed the magical fire she had thrown at him hungrily. As he readied his weapon to strike once again, the King's expression was that of pure determination combined with piercing rage. For a moment Morgana's eyes showed true fear for the man that was her brother. He swiftly raised the sword and charged at her again.
She managed to block the hit, quickly raising a shield, but the King did not relent. He pushed harder and managed to drive the sword forward, slicing the magical barrier and causing his sister to clumsily fall backwards. Her hands grabbed at a fallen sword and brought it up in time to bloke another one of King Arthur's deadly attacks. She muttered a quick spell that dealt the man a blow in the chest, leaving him momentarily breathless.
King Arthur's face was now a mask of fury. He stared hard in her eyes, contempt and pain swarming in his gaze. Their swords clashed again and again until Morgana's blade yielded, shattering in a loud shriek, surrendering to the other sword's superiority.
The witch fell back, calling on her magic to form yet another shield to protect her and give her time to regroup.
Her plans failed because as soon as the shield was conjured it was struck by a ball of white energy. She turned her head and came face to face with a determent-looking young Merlin. The young warlock raised his hand towards her, ready to attack. But the blow didn't come from him.
No, it was the King who, with a smooth motion, held his blade up against her throat.
His eyes were fixed, staring coldly at the thin red line that formed were the sword pressed on her slender neck. Morgana was shocked, holding her breath and waiting for her brother to pass judgment.
As the King spoke, the sword's pressure increased slightly. The witch flinched from the stinging pain.
"It's over, Morgana. You have failed once more. You don't deserve it, but I'm giving you one last chance, for old times' sake. Leave now. Take what's left of your men with you. And don't you dare bother me, my family or my kingdom ever again…" He spat.
The turmoil was clear in King Arthur's eyes, an inner battle still taking place. What he wanted to do, what he should do and what he had to do were still clashing with what he ended up doing.
Morgana on the other hand seemed to have made her decision. She lifted her chin in an attempt to look imposing, while she spoke in a forced manner, addressing all her subjects.
"Retreat! It's over… I order you all to withdraw." Her eyes glowed, sealing her words with magic.
One by one, the surviving sorcerers started to draw back, heading for the shores of the Isle. Two of them, the most powerful Merlin guessed, disappeared amidst small whirlwinds of magic. Many lay already dead in the courtyard. The young warlock stared at the defeated witch before him. Morgana looked exhausted in addition to being wounded. With a glare full of hatred, she cried a teleportation spell of her own, vanishing in a flash of deep red light.
As the knights tried to hunt down the fleeing enemy forces, the King hurried towards the lying form on the altar. The broken man lay there unmoving; his white skin a contrast to the bruises and the red lines of blood coming out of his nose and ears. His eyes were closed.
Arthur approached the pair slowly, briefly acknowledging that Merlin had joined him on his way there. His manservant reached and put a hand on his shoulder, in a simple gesture of reunion. Arthur understood his friend was content that the other was safe.
"Merlin?" they heard the voice of the King addressing his Court Sorcerer.
Lord Merlin didn't move.
"Merlin… Open your eyes. It's me."
Nothing.
King Arthur shook his best friend's body, stubbornly refusing to give up. When he addressed him again, the king's voice was shacking with emotion.
"Merlin! Wake up, you lazy, incompetent… fool of a sorc…" he was silenced by the sudden shift in the lying man's frame. Relief washed over the King's face as he released the breath he was apparently holding for some time.
The warlock's eyes opened slowly, and King Arthur smiled.
Lord Merlin recognized him immediately.
"Took you long enough, you prat…"
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