A/N: I got a little over-excited when I posted last week's chapter and realized that I hadn't put in any of the section breaks to identify where one character's point of view ended and another's began. I'm sorry about this, and it was fixed, but if you read it before it was fixed and it didn't make sense to you, I suggest you go back and take a look.
I also want to give a shout out to my friend and new follower, Madeleine KHill, whose name I probably misspelled, and I'm sorry. She probably won't see this for some time, but I just wanted to say hi and I love you and I'll see you soon!
Chapter 13- Discoveries
Merlin's eyes snapped open and he found himself staring up at the ceiling of some sort of cave. He was soaked and cold, and it didn't help that the stalactites hanging above him were dripping a constant stream of water onto his forehead.
"Have a nice swim?" an eerie voice called to him. It echoed off the cave walls, making the mermaid's sing-song voice even more terrifying. Merlin sat up, eyes searching the cave for a glimpse of the dark-haired woman who had lured Arthur to the sea.
As he had expected, she sat before him, reclining calmly on a boulder slick with moisture. The dress she'd been wearing was damp, but she looked more as if she had just walked here through a light rain. Even her hair looked dry. However, she still appeared completely human, which confused the warlock slightly.
"Where's Arthur?" he demanded, eyes hard. The mermaid smirked.
"Straight to the point. I like it."
She slowly stood and strode over to him, her strides long and graceful. Merlin attempted to stand and back away, but his boots slid on the slick stone ground and he only managed to move back a few inches. She reached him quickly enough and grabbed the servant boy by the edges of his jacket. Merlin's magic automatically responded, but he forced it back, refusing to allow it to protect him. He couldn't let her know that he was a warlock.
Suddenly, she smiled, flashing perfect white teeth. This close to her, Merlin suddenly realized how razor-sharp those teeth were.
"You're stupid, but brave," she said, her voice a purr. "An interesting combination."
She released him and then stepped back. Merlin took the opportunity to scramble to his feet and take a better look around.
The cave was lit by an eerie blue-green glow. Merlin risked a quick glance over his shoulder to see just how far back it went. By the looks of it, it went pretty far. He turned back to see Arabell sauntering away from him, towards a pool of water in the center of the stony chamber. Merlin took a hesitant step forward.
"Where am I?" he asked, voice echoing off the rock walls. Arabell stopped and turned slightly to look at him. Her eyes flashed dangerously and she smirked.
"My home," she told him bluntly. "You're welcome to it."
"Where's Arthur?" he demanded again. She tutted softly.
"So rude," she told him, shaking her head. "A guest in one's home really ought to properly be introduced to one's family, shouldn't he?"
"I want to know where my friend is," Merlin demanded.
"And you will!" she replied. "But I am sure that someone such as you will want to witness the rising of a species that has not been seen in hundreds of years. Isn't that right?"
Merlin honestly wasn't sure he did, but Arabell wasn't going to give him the option. She stepped into the water, and opened her mouth. Merlin had expected her to maybe call names, but instead the cold, still air in the cave was filled with the eerie sound of music. Merlin recognized it: the high, fluctuating sound that he'd heard in the village and right before Arthur had hit him and knocked him out. His magic stirred inside him, warning him of it. He narrowed his eyes and watched the woman before him warily.
She shot a glance back over her shoulder, and then held a hand out towards him, beckoning him. Merlin hung back.
"Come," she said, her voice low and eerily calm. "And meet my sisters."
Merlin's eyes went to the water, which suddenly began to churn and ripple, as if it was boiling. The warlock stepped forward, wary, but he couldn't resist the curiosity that churned inside him. Arabell had been right. He did want to see the creatures.
The first few emerged from the water, and Merlin had to force himself not to take an involuntary step backwards.
The creatures were strikingly similar to the ones that had appeared in the Bestiary. Their eyes were almost animalistic, containing a primal hunger that chilled the warlock to the bone. Their skin was perfectly smooth, but differed from creature to creature. Some were tinted soft green. Another almost pure white. Another was a very faint blue. Their hair was tangled and matted, ranging in colors from raven black like Arabell's to a flat silver. One even had pure white hair, though Merlin couldn't tell If the lack of color had anything to do with age. None of them appeared old, though he knew they all had most likely seen centuries pass by.
One opened her mouth when she surfaced, and Merlin was given the privilege of seeing rows of sharp, jagged teeth, stained with old blood. Their hands were all tipped with black, knife-sharp nails. One or two came up close enough to the edge of the pool to pull themselves halfway up onto the cave floor, and Merlin caught brief glimpses of their scaled tales. He couldn't tell if any of them were the one he had seen pull Gwaine under, though.
However, Merlin's contemplation over their appearance was suddenly, startlingly halted when two last creatures emerged from the water, carrying something between them. With a burst of strength that contradicted their looks, they tossed their burden up so it was lying halfway out of the water and halfway on the cold, damp floor of the cave.
Merlin's eyes grew wide with horror. The mermaids had deposited Arthur only feet in front of him. The blonde didn't move and his eyes were closed as he laid face-down on the ground.
"Arthur!" Merlin gasped and started forward, but he was stopped in his tracks by a powerful magical force that slammed into his chest. He landed heavily on his back and scrambled back to his feet. His eyes narrowed as he saw Arabell lower her arm and step forward to stand between him and the king. He had forgotten that these creatures could wield magic.
"Fool!" she snapped, then barked a laugh. "Did you really think it would be that simple?
"I'm warning you," Merlin said as threateningly as he could whilst standing before an audience of powerful sea women who had a longing for blood. "Let him go."
"Don't be ridiculous," Arabell scoffed, flicking her dark hair over her shoulder. "I'm not near finished with you two."
Merlin scowled at her.
"What do you want from me?" he demanded. He was beginning to realize that there might be a greater reason for him capture than the fact that these mermaids wanted two meals for the price of one. After all, why would Arabell have waited for him? Why go through all the trouble to lure Arthur down to lure him down too? There must be a reason…
But Arabell obviously wasn't going to answer his question quite yet.
"These are my sisters," the woman cooed, turning from Merlin and gesturing to the group of creatures behind her. There were six altogether, including her. Merlin could have sworn there'd been more when he'd been pulled under. It had felt like there had been more.
"Is this all?" Merlin asked, his fear and disgust momentarily replaced by interest. "Only six?"
"Only six," Arabell spat back, as if the words were foul. "Only six left."
She spun on him, her eyes dangerously wild.
"Once upon a time our species thrived. We lived in the oceans of the world, feasting and singing, enjoying life. But your kind hunted us to the brink of extinction. Stupid humans, believing themselves to be so strong. So mighty. But you are fools. Hundreds of thousands of my kind were slaughtered. We fled and hid. We are what is left."
Merlin looked down at the mermaids before him, dangerous yet beautiful, staring back at him with primal hatred in their eyes. He recalled reading about the slaughter of the mermaids, the hunt across seas to try and rid the world of their kind. And for a moment, he also felt sorry for them.
But then he remembered Arthur, lying on the ground before him, and the fact that Arabell refused to tell him why she wanted him so badly.
"Why did you bring me here?" Merlin demanded, eyes hardening again, looking away from the last of the mermaids. He glared at Arabell, locking gazes with her as she turned to look at him again.
"What do you want Arthur and me for?" he said.
Arabell remained silent and once more turned her back on him. Merlin knew a well-aimed blow from his magic would send her toppling and maybe give him enough time to grab Arthur and escape (though on second thought that may have been a little optimistic). But he knew he had to refrain from using his power. As far as he knew, these mermaids didn't know what he was. He wanted to keep it that way.
Merlin watched with intense eyes as the human-mermaid crouched down and stroked Arthur's hair with her fingers. She smiled gently, then looked over her shoulder at Merlin.
"The young king is only a formality," she said softly. "It is you I need."
Merlin's eyes narrowed.
"For what?" he repeated.
Arabell looked over at her sisters in the water, and Merlin followed her gaze. He didn't like the excited glint that suddenly had appeared in the eyes of the bloodthirsty sea creatures.
Without looking at him, Arabell gave Merlin his answer.
"You will bring my species back from the dead."
Gwaine stalked up the path towards the old head councilor's house that sat atop the cliff, looking down on the rest of the village. Matthew struggled to keep up with him, but the knight's steps were quick and determined. Matthew thanked his lucky stars that it was not he who had done wrong to Arthur and Merlin. It was clear that this knight would stop at nothing to protect his friends.
They reached the end of the road where the man's home sat, and Gwaine walked quickly to the door and pounded on it, so hard that the echoes bounced off the jagged rocks and Matthew worried that the whole town would be awoken by the sound.
There was no answer, and Matthew noticed the lights in the home were dark.
"Isaiah may be asleep," he considered. Gwaine glowered at the door.
"He won't be for long," the knight muttered and pounded on it again.
"Isaiah! Open the door in the name of the king!"
Once more, there was no answer and the house remained dark and silent.
"Right," Gwaine said with a nod and stepped back.
"What are you going to – " Matthew started, but before he could finish, Gwaine swung a kick, slamming his foot into the solid wood door. It cracked and sprang open, almost falling off its hinges. Matthew cringed at the sound and stared despondently at the broken door. He might have thought Isaiah an old fool, but the man was the head of the council, and Matthew felt as though he was betraying his village by breaking into the man's home.
"Come on, mate," Gwaine said, clapping the old fisherman on the shoulder, obviously proud of his work on the door. He led the way in and Matthew took one last nervous look around before following the knight into the dark interior.
"Isaiah!" Gwaine called into the darkness of the house. Matthew frowned as he glanced around. No one seemed to be here. Even the fireplace was dark. Where could a man like Isaiah have gone at this hour of the night?
"I'll look down here," Gwaine said, nodding towards one hallway. He nodded to the second one and said, "You look down there."
Matthew nodded and watched as Gwaine moved towards the left wing of hallways, his form receding into the shadows. The old fisherman swallowed and moved towards the right, towards the first door.
He pressed a hand against it, and it swung open without any problems. Carefully, Matthew looked inside.
Within, shrouded in darkness but just light enough from the weak moonlight so he could see, was what seemed to be a small library of sorts. A desk was against one wall, and the other was adorned by a bookshelf with a collection of varying texts. Matthew figured this must have been where Merlin found his book. But as he glanced around, he didn't see anyone within.
"Isaiah?" he said softly, but there was no answer. Deciding this room was empty, Matthew backed carefully out of it, closing the door behind him. Only one more door remained in this hallway, and the old fisherman moved towards it as quietly as he could. He didn't know why he felt the need to be so silent, but he had some innate fear that Isaiah would suddenly pop up out of nowhere and demand the reason for this intrusion. Matthew hated to admit it, but he was almost scared of the old man.
He pressed his hand against the second door, but this one didn't open as easily as the last. He tried the handle, but it was locked.
"Sir Gwaine!" he called over his shoulder. The knight appeared a few moments later and started down the hallway towards him,
"What?" he asked as he neared the fisherman. Matthew nodded towards the door.
"It's locked," he said. Gwaine nodded and stepped back. Matthew cringed, waiting for another kick.
He was not disappointed, and Gwaine launched his foot with full force into the wooden door. The flimsy lock that had held it closed broke through the wood door jam and the door swung easily open.
The first thing that struck them was a heavy, gut-turning smell of decay, which hit Matthew like a fist to his stomach. He grimaced, and hung back while Gwaine entered. Moonlight played over two figures in the middle of the room, but it was too dark to see any detail.
"What are they?" Matthew wondered, guessing that they were just animals that had gotten in and died. But….those were big animals.
"I don't know," Gwaine said grimly, looking down at them. "Here."
He made his way carefully to a candle which was sitting on a table near the wall. He knight fumbled in his pocket and brought out a pair of flint pieces, which he used to light the wick. As the weak but warm candlelight illuminated the room, the pair of figures were bathed in it glow and Matthew and Gwaine could see them for what they were.
Matthew blanched.
On the floor, lying face down before them, were two guards of Camelot.
A/N: And now you know where the Camelot guards have been for so long. On review, I probably didn't have to kill them, but I really wasn't interested in developing them as characters, and they're knights of Camelot. They're expendable. It's like when you watch an original Star Trek episode, and all the main characters beam down to the surface of the planet, but there's that one guy whose name is mentioned but you've never seen him before, and he's more often than not wearing a red shirt, and you're like, "Well, you're going to die." And five seconds later, he does.
Anyways, happy Monday, everyone!