Chapter 20

Third Person POV

The Night Before

Arthur glances at the spot the campfire is supposed to be lit, only to be disappointed at the lack of fuel to start one. Merlin has finished preparing their dinner but needs the fire to cook it.

"Where in the world are they?" The Prince wonders aloud, his eyes now looking out to the direction they last saw them go. "It's not like they've had to find a forest for wood."

Leon, who has been trying not to think too much about it gives up as Arthur only brings more attention to his worries. He stands up, hand resting on his sword as he joins Arthur in looking out into the forest.

"It's beginning to get dark, Sire, I think we should look for them," the Knight says. Arthur looks to his best knight, seeing the anxiety startling to take a hold of his features.

"Alright," he agrees. "We'll go and follow their footsteps, but we don't have much light to track them."

"I'll come," Merlin says, standing up from crouching over his soup. Arthur nods, not bothering to argue with his servant. Harris and the other knight stay by the camp as the other three attempt to look for any footprints in the low light.

They wander north, following along the messy tracks of their friends.

"Thank heavens' for their lack of grace," Arthur sighs, leaning down to inspect a track. "Horses leave lighter marks than these." Leon kneels down beside him, seeing the imprint of a small shoe. Its facing slightly west rather than south which would have led them to the left of camp.

"It's pointing that way, Sire," Leon says, pointing off slightly west. "If this is Elena then they would have missed camp and they're south-west of us." Arthur looks at the print again.

"You're right let's follow this track," he agrees. Merlin watches over their shoulder, not really seeing anything in the ground that would suggest someone has walked here – but he's not the expert so he keeps his mouth shut.

They follow the tracks until it is so dark that they can't see the ground clearly anymore.

"I'm sorry but I can't see them anymore. We're going to have to go back to camp," Arthur sighs. Leon becomes visibly distressed, but he doesn't want to argue against his Prince. Merlin, however, doesn't have such filter around his master.

"But they could still be out there!" he argues. "They don't have anything with them."

Arthur rubs his forehead, stepping over to his servant.

"I know you care for Elena, she's my friend too. And so is Castor, but we can't do much right now," he counters. "Besides, maybe they've made their way back to camp by now."

Merlin huffs, clenching his jaw but a small glint from moonlight on something over Arthur's shoulder catches his attention. He pushes past the Prince, jogging over to the object on the ground. His heart drops at the sight, bending over to pick it up. The other two knights have turned to watch him as he holds up the sword. Merlin recognises the sword.

"It's Castor's," he says.

Elena's POV

God, there's no way to say how long we've been here. It may have been only a day, but it could have been a week. We got no food, only a cup of water every now and then. If I am being honest, I'm not sure if anybody will show up to help us. And we're in no state to fight him if we get the chance. I don't even want to think about what he's done because my thoughts shift about what he's going to do.

The door slams open, a large dagger in his hand.

"I'm getting quite tired of this routine. I'm going to start using magic if you don't start talking. Honestly, I've been waiting to use it, but I wanted to work my way up to it."

He saunters over to Castor who only watches Lorcan lazily, his eyes half open. His mouth is chapped, blood seeping through the cracks. But Castor manages to spit at Lorcan, the saliva landing on his shoe. Lorcan exhales slowly.

"That was disgusting," he snarls but doesn't react the way I am expecting. He's too calm. "Forbærnan." The blade of his dagger turns bright red and I feel as though I can hear the sizzling from here. With his free hand, he pulls up the side of Castor's shirt, exposing his stomach. The other hand, holding the dagger moves closer and he presses the blade against Castor's skin.

Unlike before, where we've managed to hold our cries for the sake of the other, Castor can't hold back, a strangle cry pushing through his throat.

"Stop it!" I shriek. Lorcan lifts the blade, turning his head to look at me. Castor exhales, his eyes slipping shut as he regains himself.

"Are you giving in?" he smirks. I don't say anything or make any movement; because I don't know what to do. I'm stuck with no good outcome from any decision I make. "No?" he presses the blade back to the skin.

I cry out again – not words, just screaming. I scream so that somebody can hear me. So that I can somehow make him stop. Screaming for Castor to know I'm still here.

"Will you shut up!" Lorcan exclaims, his façade of calmness dropping, and I can see the manic in his eyes show through again; just like I saw the first time I met him. "I know I wanted you to speak but this is ridiculous."

"Make me," I spit, growling in frustration as I tug on my chains even though it's useless. I need to show him I'm still fighting. Lorcan stands up and walks to the middle of the room.

"Stillhet," he says and his eyes glow gold. But I don't feel anything, so I look over to Castor but he's already looking at me in confusion, waiting to see what is going to happen.

'What did you do?' I go to ask, but no sound comes out of my mouth, only a small flow of air. I panic, swallowing and try to speak again but nothing comes out. He's taken my voice.

"What did you do?" Castor cries, speaking the words I cannot. Lorcan switches back to his cheerful façade.

"She was too loud, so I shut her up. Don't worry, I'll give her plenty of opportunities to join me."

The man walks over to me, crouching by my side. He pulls the sleeve of my shirt up and place the tip of his dagger at the bottom of my arm. He applies pressure, breaking the skin but he never looks at the knife, he just stares at me. He drags it upwards along the inside of my arm, cutting a long line almost up to my elbow.

I cry out – or at least try to but no sounds come out from my mouth. I look to Castor, seeking comfort through the pain but even he looks heartbroken, tear stains on his cheeks. We're at breaking point and no knights in shining armour to save us.

The blade stops just before my elbow, suddenly releasing out of my skin. Blood drips down over my forearm.

"What have we here?" Lorcan questions, grabbing my arm and pulling it upwards. I look at my arm and realise what he's seen. My mark, or what is left of it, sunken into the skin. "You have already bonded. But you can't be anymore since I still feel you. That feeling goes once you bond with someone. You've seen death and come back. How…extraordinary." He looks back at Castor in thought. "You'll be stronger than he is, no doubt about that."

Without any more words he leaves, leaving us both there is pain. Castor's stomach is bright red and blisters already forming. It looks like a second-degree burn. Despite that, he looks at me, pretending not to notice his own wounds.

"Are you ok?" he asks. I shake my head. No. I'm not ok. How could I be. "Me either," he mumbles." Silent tears flow down my cheeks as I silently give up on everything. This is going to be the last place I see, a dank old room in somebody's home.

The door opens back up but Lorcan has no weapon in his hand. Instead, there's a vial, a dark blue liquid inside it. Without speaking he storms over to Castor, prying his mouth open and tips the bottle onto his lips. Castor gargles the liquid, stopping it from going down his mouth but Lorcan holds his nose, forcing him to swallow so he can breathe.

"This is a poison," he states, holding up the vial which is half empty. "Very slow but does the job. He has a few hours left maybe." He walks over to me again, kneeling by my side. "But you can save him, I have the antidote upstairs. All you have to do is agree."

I hold my head high, shuffling my feet to move as close to the wall as I can. He's bluffing, he doesn't want us dead because he'd lose his leverage. As I shuffle my feet, I feel something in my boot that I forgot was there. Something with sharp edges. I glance to his side, seeing the keys dangle off a loop on his belt.

Before I can formulate a plan, he sighs, standing back up.

"I'll be back when the poison starts really taking effect."

As soon as he is gone, I sink to the ground and pull my leg up to the sky, close enough so my hand can reach into the boots. It's an awkward and rather painful position and I almost can't reach it, but the tips of my fingers are able to reach into my boot.

"What are you doing?" Castor mumbles, his eyes fluttering open and close. I pull the knife out, holding it in my right hand. "Oh," he mutters. "That's going to be handy."

I nod, thinking about where I can hide it. It has to be in reach of my hand at all times, but still out of sight. I can't reach the ground and there's nothing on the walls to hide it against. My there is my back. I lean forward, placing the knife at the base of my neck, the blade flat against my skin then lean back so it's trapped between me and the wall.

"We need a plan," Castor suggests. "To get him close enough to you." I nod, chattering my teeth in thought. As I idea comes to me, I grab his attention then act as though I'm dead. It takes a few moments, but the knight finally gets it. "Oh! Call him over, he'll check on you then bam!" he exclaims, although still hushed. I would laugh at his description if I could but settle on a nod. "Good idea."

He calls out for help, proclaiming that I'm dead but nobody responds.

"Maybe he's left," he grunts.

We wait and wait until finally there is some sound up above. By now Castor is delirious, sweat pooling all over him. But he's just coherent enough to remember what we are going to do. I've stayed pressed up against the wall the entire time, holding the knife in place.

"Help!" he cries. "She's dying! Elena! I think she's dead!"

His voice cracks and I almost get caught up in his acting myself. He sounds so helpless and lost. So real, but as the key rattles in the door I close my eyes, leaning back and breathe as subtle as I can.

"Please," Castor cries again but his voice drifts off at the end.

I feel Lorcan step over me and I wait until is so close, I can feel the slight brush of air on my face. I don't waste a moment.

My eyes fling open to let me assess where he is and before he can react, on hand flies behind me and feels for the knife's handle which is aligned with my neck. Holding it tight in my fingers I thrust it forward into Lorcan's chest. It's harder than I thought to push a blade through someone. I pull the blade out immediately, letting the blood pour out of the wound and it spatters on me as well as the ground.

Lorcan gasps, his hands flying to the wound to stop the blood from pouring out but I'm not stupid. I've stabbed close to his heart. He falls backwards, unable to even speak, eyes rolling to the back of his head and he dies within moments.

I use my feet to drag his limp body closer and use the tips of my boots to unhook his keys, flexing them up to my hands. Using all my limbs working together I unlock both my arms and they drop to the ground. I shriek (silently) as the muscles contract and relax in positions they haven't been in for a while.

I crawl over to Castor, unlocking his arms. His eyes are closed so I tap his face, but he doesn't respond. The poison. I need to get that antidote. The door is open, and I stagger up the stairs. For the first time, besides the light from the one torch touches my skin and my eyes squeeze shut. I take a few moments, opening them up ever so slightly to get used to the brightness and once I can see everything again I sprint around the house, rumbling through his things trying to find anything that could be the antidote.

I come to a cupboard, opening up its door and inside is a plethora of vials, filled with all different types of liquids but not a single one has a name. Which one? Clear, Red, purple, the big one, small one? I only have once chance at this, but I don't even know what he was given let alone what the antidote would look like. My fingers trace along each one, trying to think back to everything Gaius has taught me. But absolutely nothing comes to mind.

I would scream now if I could, scream into the void of despair and anguish. We're so close. Maybe I should just grab a random one and hope for the best, it would give him more of a chance than giving him nothing at all.

I reach for the red one, taking it from the cupboard. I go to shut the door, but I see the half empty vial that Lorcan used. The poison. And right beside it, closer to it, as though paired is a small vial with a dark green liquid. I put the red one back and take the green one. I don't let myself think about it anymore and run back down to Castor.

The knight is lying against the ground, taking haggard breathes. I open his mouth, pouring the entirety of the bottle into it. He swallows immediately, sighing. I wait for something to happen – anything. His breathing slows down, his chest moving up and down in a controlled pace.

I cry out, my head falling against his chest in relief. A hand lazily pats my back, Castor still half conscious.

I pull myself together, forcing my arms underneath his and together we get him to stand. He bears his weight on me, but he can still walk. I want to comfort him, tell him we'll be fine, but nothing would come out of my throat.

We slowly make it up to the stairs and push out the front door. We're in the middle of the forest, the place we were in being a small cabin, almost cottage looking, overtaken by wildlife. We limp into the forest, not really having any particular direction in mind but we're bound to come across some landmark at one point. The only question is if we'll make it.

I'm not strong right now – as much as I hate to admit it. And holding Castor up isn't helping but I couldn't leave him behind, nor could I stop. Both would leave to one or more deaths. I've cured his poison but what about the physical exhaustion and exertion. Infection. Dehydration.

I'm about to fall to the ground, Castor's weight maxing out my endurance. I fall to my knees, Castor about to collapse to the ground but I catch his shoulders before he reaches it. Off in the distance I see horses, red cloaks being worn by their riders. At first, I think is a mirage, the thirst and exhaustion making me see things but as they pass by, just a little bit off in the distance I realise that what I see is very real indeed.

I call out to catch their attention, but no voice comes out. I try again, desperate for them to see me. I wave my arms in the air after placing Castor on the ground softly, but they haven't noticed me. My throat aches from the pressure. I reach down, my hands fumbling over the ground until I find a big enough rock. I take a breath, throwing it as far as I can in their direction. It bounces off a tree, catching the attention of the riders on the outskirts. I wave frantically with both hands, my mouth moving in a silent scream.

"Over here!" one yells.

I weep, dropping my arms by my side as the figure begin to move closer. Camelot soldiers. I finally let sleep take me, knowing I'm in safe hands once again.