Chapter 37

"No. You will not hurt him anymore."

Merlin's voice, filled with power, anger and conviction, rose loudly above the music.

Knife half way down Aerona paused, unable to resist looking at the young man she had written off as untested, naive and unknowing. And for the first time she was scared. He stood tall and powerful, resplendent in the reflected colours of his protective web. But it was not that that made her heart leap and her breath catch in her throat. It was his eyes. She had seen men angry before, seen them with their faces filled with hatred and murderous rage. But they were as nothing compared to the chasm of enmity and detestation that she fell into as she stared at the Warlocks eyes.

And she knew that she had misjudged; he was more powerful than she could ever have believed. She finally understood the depth of her misunderstanding; it was he who was the Anointed One; not her. And she had enraged him and so would die. All these thoughts swept over her in a matter of seconds; to be followed by the last thought that she would ever make.

"I will take his precious King with me."

And her hand moved swiftly down.

XXX

"No. You will not hurt him anymore"

As he spoke Merlin felt power like no other flood through his body; he could read Aerona's thoughts and knew that she understood her defeat and his Anointment. But then he read her last thought.

"I will take his precious King with me."

Time seemed to slow as he watched Aerona's silver dagger descend. Without even needing to think or incant a spell Merlin pulled both his arms in front of him, palms facing up. Then he twisted and raised them in the air and crashed them down until they pointed directly at Aerona. From his finger tips flew all the wondrous colour and light from his connection with the Earth Harp. Only it was no longer beautiful and life affirming. Its vividness was now colder than the arctic wastes far to the North of the Citadel and its hues were merciless and callous. It no longer nurtured life; it spoke of death. And it was not alone; deep within it could be seen the gold of Merlin's magic. Right there at the centre, controlling and guiding its direction. But this part of him no longer held any hate but something worse; indifference and detachment. It did not care about what it was about to do; Aerona's end was merely a necessity; needed to protect Arthur. And as such it had to happen.

Merlin stood calmly in the middle of the Hall and watched as the column of power left his hands and entered Aerona's chest. He saw her arch her back and drop the knife just as it nicked the flesh of Arthur's exposed neck. Then he watched as she was pulled up into the air; twisting and turning as she rose. With a speed almost beyond vision the colours of the lights joined together and became an all embracing black void. Aerona let out a last pained cry, her body consumed by the ravenous dark and then she was gone; dragged into the land beyond the veil to face whatever or whoever waited for her there. For her there was but eternal damnation; alone with the shades of those she had destroyed.

She was gone.

Arthur was safe.

Merlin dropped his hands down to his sides and closed his eyes as he felt as his newly empowered magic returning to him. And he heard Her voice, no longer singing but talking; yet again so sad and compelling and he had to listen.

"Thank you Emrys for freeing me. For so many years I have waited for you. Longing for you to come and to release me from my imprisonment. Open your eyes and look at what you have done"

Slowly Merlin looked. A young woman stood in front of him, innocent and lovely, barely twenty years old. She was dressed in a simple white gown and in her hands was a bouquet of dead flowers. As he watched she raised them to her lips and kissed them. All at once they burst back into life, their strong stems now supporting the most beautiful iris's he had ever seen.

"These were withered and barren whilst I was entombed and now they live again. They are flowers of hope; they bring faith, wisdom and valour. All of which you embody Merlin. I have been used for so much ill; condemned many years ago to imprisonment within the Harp; put there by the jealous and wicked Priestess of my Tribe. For more years than mortal man can count I have had to watch men fight and kill in my name; had to tell them prophesies that will only lead to more death. And then I was captured and have remained silent and asleep. But now the ancient curse is broken and the Harp will sing no more."

She turned her head and Merlin followed her gaze. He was just in time to see the beautiful Earth Harp turn to dust and blow away in an ethereal wind.

"It is gone and soon I too will go. With all my heart I wish I could remain here, to comfort you from the suffering that you feel. But I cannot, it is forbidden and I am being called away. One word of hope before I go. I need to thank you with a prophecy. The time of the great testing is coming Merlin; you will need all your strength, magic and love to protect Arthur and Camelot. But I prophase you will not fail. Albion will be born and though some will not be there to see her flowering; all will know to whom they owe their life and their freedom. To the Once and Future King and his Emrys."

Then she was gone; a faint shadow remained for the beat of his heart and finally he could see her no more.

And with her seemed to go the last of his strength; his newly awakened double magic was now dormant, used up for the time being by the power needed to rid the World of Aerona. Then the pain; the blood loss and the devastation of the last few hours finally took their toll. Merlin fell to his knees and his vision dimmed; he had nothing left.

But as his eyes closed and he began to welcome the encroaching darkness something tugged at his sense of completeness. Something he had yet to do; something to do with Arth...

Merlin came back to full alertness with a start. Arthur; Arthur was badly injured and he had been about to rest; to leave his King and friend to die. Gathering what little strength he had Merlin dragged himself over to where the young King lay. With a trembling hand the Warlock felt for a pulse, sighing in relief as he felt one. A little weak and threddy perhaps, but at least it was there. Merlin sat up as best he could, feeling the re-opened wound in his back as it sent a shiver of agony through his body. The pain threatened to make him lose his concentration and even consciousness; so Merlin quickly whispered a small spell to dull it.

"Dull y teimlad"

And the pain receded a little. It still hurt but bluntly and almost as if the wound was not really part of his body. Merlin could feel his blood continuing to drip down his back, but he could not think of that now. He needed all his remaining energy for Arthur. The little he had used for the pain management spell was worth it as he could now concentrate. But he knew he could spare no more on himself. His healing powers were poor enough as it was. No, all that he had left was for his King.

Pulling up Arthur's torn and filthy shirt Merlin almost gagged as he saw the deep ugly wound in the Kings side. Putting his fear and revulsion aside Merlin laid both hands over the gash, closed his eyes and began.

"Heal a chau."

Nothing. Except a feeling of light headedness and nausea.

"Heal a chau"

Merlin opened his eyes hopefully but to no avail. Arthur still lay there, unresponsive and so very pale. Merlin took as deep a breath as he was able without the pain returning full force. He felt waves of exhaustion crashing over him and he knew he had very little left to give. It had to be this time and nothing; not death itself; could distract him.

He knelt a little closer; ignoring the shafts of coldness and hurt that hit him with every movement. He closed his eyes one last time, emptied his mind of all things save this one burning, critical and primary thought. Arthur must survive. He felt the last remaining remnant of his depleted magic gather themselves and he began to speak the words. This time, he thought, it has to work.

"Heal a ch..."

But before he could complete the healing spell he felt a cold blade on his throat and heard a soft voice in his ears.

"Merlin my love; how could you forget me?"

Dera.

XXX

Dera did not understand what had happened. One minute she and her Lady were laughing at the idiot manservant and his King; Aerona with her knife ready to use. Then the servant had spoken, she could not remember the words, only their effect. A force threw her to the ground and that was the last thing she was aware of until a few minutes ago.

Waking up she had been groggy for a moment but then she heard her Lady scream, the message coming into her head as she came round.

"I will take his precious King with me."

And then...Aerona was gone. Dera blanked out, unable to comprehend what she has just seen. Her lady was dead and by the hands of that fool Merlin. For what seemed like forever Dera just stared at the place where her Mistress had been. It could not be true, she could not be dead. It was all a trick to confound the boy. But then that young woman had appeared beside the Earth Harp and as Dera lay there and listened the full reality of the situation hit her. Merlin had killed Aerona; he was the Anointed One and he had freed the Harp to a peaceful release. As she lay in the corner of the Hall Dera's anger grew. She would not let him win; he was beneath contempt and she would finish her Lady's work.

She saw Merlin fall to the ground and then start up again; he had finally remembered his King she thought. Just the diversion she needed. Carefully she crawled through the dust and dirt to where Aerona had last stood. As she had hoped the silver knife was still lying there, forgotten now with her Mistress' death. Dera reached out her hand and clasped it to her. And began to crawl faster as she heard the words of a healing spell.

Merlin had tried to heal his King twice before she reached him; obviously she thought with a twisted smile; there were some things even the all powerful Anointed One could not do well.

As Merlin seemed to gather himself up for another attempt Dera got to her knees, grasped the hilt of the knife and in a swift movement put it to the throat of the distracted servant.

Knowing that her moment of revenge was but a heartbeat away Dera allowed herself the joy of letting Merlin know who it was who had killed him. She wanted him to die knowing that she had won.

"Merlin my love; how could you forget me?"

XXX

A/N

Translation

"Dull y teimlad" – Dull the feeling

"Heal a chau" – Heal and close

According to ancient English flower tradition Iris's mean hope, faith, wisdom and valour.