The halls were deserted, a lone figure sweeping silently along the pale marble corridors, following a trail visible only to their own unwavering gaze. Suddenly, they came to a halt in front of a set of large, wooden double doors, yellowed teeth baring in an animalistic snarl of anticipation as they reached out a scarred hand to push them open.

Merlin sat up in bed mere hours after falling asleep, drenched in a cold sweat with heart hammering in his chest. The bracelet around his wrist burned a message into his consciousness that he hardly needed to be told; somehow he already knew. Arthur was in danger. Cursing softly, Merlin sprinted from the physician's quarters and dashed through castle on the familiar route to the prince's chambers. Adrenaline flooded his system, sending his breath in and out in quick gasps as his bare feet pounded softly against the icy stone floor.

He reached Arthur's rooms only to find the door already open, a dark, cloaked figure filling the entryway. An icy wave of malevolent power washed over Merlin, hitting him like a physical blow, and he was reminded with a shiver of dread, of the darkness of Cornelius Sigan that had possessed Cedric, and later threatened to overcome Merlin himself, whispering poisonous words in his ears and creeping its way towards him through the air, like a pestilence that he was powerless to stop.

Merlin skidded to a halt, paralyzed in mounting horror as the figure crept closer and closer to the prince's bedside, whipping around suddenly to gaze intently into the shadows of the hallway outside. Merlin dove for cover out of sight as a deep, throaty chuckle spread through the night air.

"I know you're there, Emrys. It's no use hiding," it whispered. Goosebumps prickled up and down Merlin's limbs, but he steeled himself and stood, stepping into plain view of the unknown entity in front of him.

"What do you want?" he challenged, voice low. A hood was pushed back, and icy dread flooded Merlin's veins. He knew who man was. He had come for them, just as Merlin should have guessed.

"Sandor Bane," Merlin growled softly. The sorcerer's chuckle grew louder, a grotesque semblance of a smile twisting its way across his skeletal face. Merlin blinked, caught between staring at the man before him in defiance and lowering his eyes in disgust at his ghoulish appearance. Flesh hung loosely from the sorcerer's skull in limp ribbons, a pale green liquid oozing from open wounds slashed across both cheekbones. And his eyes…

Merlin looked away to avoid losing himself in the fathomless, maddened orbs as Arthur sat up in bed with a start, armlet burning and his internal "Merlin in danger-o-meter" raising a cacophony of alarms in his head. Having barely even opened his eyes, Arthur stood and reached instinctively for the sword by his bed, only to have the scabbard slide across the floor away from him. The clouds immediately cleared from his sleep-befuddled mind, and Arthur's heart pounded in his chest as he found himself separated from Merlin across the room by a ghastly figure, eyes glowing an ugly bronze.

"So kind of you to join us," Merlin joked weakly. "You really are a deep sleeper, you prat…"

Arthur smirked at his friend uneasily, taking in Merlin's disheveled appearance. The warlock's dark hair was tousled, and he stood barefoot, dressed only in his nightwear. The cloaked figure took a step towards Arthur, but lunging to the right, he managed to grab his sword and brandished it menacingly at the apparent sorcerer in front of him. A sick feeling of dread pooled in the pit of his stomach as dead eyes surveyed him balefully. He knew who this man was, and he knew without asking that Merlin did too.

"Sandor Bane," he spat. "What do you want with us?"

Bane's dry croak sent shivers down his spine. "Oh, a great many things, Arthur Pendragon. Power, immortality… it has been written in the stars, my boy, the potential you two possess. And I intend to have it all."

Merlin spoke up. "I don't think you understand. You tried once already to circumvent the prophecies and failed. What's to prevent the same thing from happening again? What makes you think it is your right to hold such power?"

Arthur's grip on his weapon tightened as the sorcerer pointed a crooked finger at his friend. "What makes you so certain that the right is yours? What good are prophecies if they are not interpreted?" Bane purred dangerously. "Man holds within them the authority to determine their own fate, so why not improve mine? You carry a heavy burden, the two of you, and face much pain and hardship. Take control over your destiny, and hand the responsibility to me."

Arthur frowned in confusion, but Merlin seemed to know what the man was referring to. "Never," he declared.

A twisted smile crept across the sorcerer's emaciated features. "So be it. If you are too weak to change fate, then I will do it for you." With a flash and a violent bang, he was gone, leaving behind the unmistakable stench of rotting flesh.

A/N: Some of you mentioned you had your suspicions regarding the identity of the mysterious figure, and I bet a lot of you guessed correctly... The next part should be very interesting. I have plans for poor Merlin and Arthur. (Tormenting them is just so much fun.) Since break is over, updates will be quite a bit more infrequent, but I already had this chapter partially written, so ta da! :) Hope you enjoyed!