Chapter 29

This is so not perfect. I throw my scissors to the other side of the room, bouncing them off the wall. The pattern just doesn't want to work, my fingers not obeying what my brain tells them to do. I've haven't been this frustrated since Arthur practically handed me his whole wardrobe to fix overnight.

"I hate you," I growl to the fabric, shaking it in the air.

I gaze around my room to see if I have anything to take my mind off sewing. My room is quite bare, however, minus a few trinkets I've collected. My eyes fix on the bow and empty quiver in the corner. I haven't used it in a few weeks, not really having a purpose too. I haven't joined in on a hunt since the time I met Merlin, both being too busy with helping saving lives and fear of travelling back outside the city too far. Just a few weeks ago, Merlin had created a sword for Arthur, forged in dragon's fire to kill the living dead; something I didn't know was possible even through magic. Apparently, somebody had a grievance against Uther Pendragon, which I found incredibly hard to believe (note my sarcasm.) Merlin had tossed the sword in the Lake of Avalon, a great disappointment as even by my standards, as someone who knows nothing about swords, it was a great make. Torj has nearly taken the Black Knight's challenge but Arthur had raised his own challenge before he could step forward.

I leave my chambers, heading to the library.

"Good morning Geoffry," I greet.

"Good Morning, Elena. May I help you with something?" The man had already been a great help before, a kind man.

"No, I'm fine. I know where I'm looking."

And thanks to Merlin and the undead man, I know where books kept on creatures of the Old Religion and I am hoping to come across a book that could give me anything more on being a Vessel. So far I already knew that when I am close by, it magnified Merlin's magic. But then there was the other time, where it stung, Merlin on the other side of the castle. I make a mental note to ask him about it.

I run my hands along the book bindings, collecting dust.

"So I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want. So tell me what you want what you really really want," I sing under my breath, reading the titles. I often have found myself singing catchy pop songs when I'm alone. I did miss music at times such as this when I don't have thoughts about death occupying my mind. A book, old brown leather covering titled 'The High Priestess and their Blood Oaths' catches my interest. I pull the book from the shelf, setting it against a table. I have always struggled to read the writing here, my eyes not accustomed to reading heavy ink and the style.

I flip through the pages, scanning their titles. I flip almost to the end of the book, my hope dwindling but a large heading stops me. 'Vessels.' I sit down, reading through the chapter. It says mostly what the dragon had told me, but gives greater detail into the process. Pictorial diagrams describe the flow of energy from the earth, the energy light and vast which is then drawn into the Vessel. It continues so the energy flows out to the Priestess but unlike before it reaches the Vessel, the energy is dense and direct. That's how it becomes so much more powerful.

The next paragraph goes on to warn against physical distance, just as the dragon said 'distance is no friend'. The connection needs to be nurtured and trained to be able to withstand it.

"In the energy transfer process, the Vessel itself may be forced to sacrifice its own to be able to accommodate a large distance between itself and their Meistr," I read. "Lovely." Maybe that's what the stinging was. There is more information concerning the capabilities, including two pages which describe how a Vessel can take on the wounds of the Meistr and if the Meistr is to perish than the Vessel does as well. I want to bring Merlin this book but I don't want him to know about that just yet. He doesn't need another thing to worry about.

I glance around, making sure Geoffry isn't nearby and rip the two pages out, tucking them into my dress. I close the book, hiding the title under my arms and leave the library while he is distracted.

I venture down to Gaius' quarters to give Merlin the book, the pull telling me he is there. I knock lightly, pushing the door open. I have spent many hours here with the both of them, eating dinner and conversing with them over our new problems of the week. It is like my second home. Gaius isn't here but I can hear Merlin scrambling around in his room. I walk up the stairs, pushing his door open which isn't closed all the way.

Merlin grabbing things from his desk, shoving them in a leather bag.

"Where are you going?" I ask, astounded that he hasn't told me yet.

Noticing my presence for the first time he stands back up straight.

"Elena. I –I have to go home. To Ealdor," he says, picking something up off the floor.

"Why?" I ask incredulously.

"My mother, there are these men terrorising the village. I have to help."

"When will you be back?"

Merlin shakes his head, looking down. "I can't. She's my mother. And I feel horrible for asking but do you want to come with me?" he asks, puppy dog eyes locking with mine. "This whole connection thing – we both feel it. We have this need to be with each other. I know your home is here, but I have to go."

He didn't plan on coming back? "Merlin, I can't go. I'm sorry, but you're right. This is my home." And Ealdor is so far away. It Cenred's kingdom, too close to where we were attacked. The thought of travelling back out there makes my legs weak. But then, what if Merlin uses his magic? What would that mean for the both of us?

"I understand," he nods slowly. "Hopefully it won't really affect us. What have you got there?" he motions to the book. I realise that he doesn't really know the meaning of the distance in this oath, and he didn't know how it felt when he cast magic not near me. But I couldn't bring myself to make him feel guilty for leaving. I will deal with it, I can learn. This could be a way to test it out, see if it really makes a difference for him.

"Oh, this?" I ask, feigning lack of importance. "Just a bit of reading I picked up from the library. When do you leave?"

"In a few minutes. I was going to find you after I finished packing."

"Okay," I whisper. "Come back and visit won't you?"

Merlin smiles, bringing me into a tight hug. "Of course, can't let you deal with Arthur on your own all the time."

He releases me, going back to his packing. I stay with him, leaning against the door frame not wanting to say goodbye. Eventually, Merlin does, hugging me one last time before he goes out to say goodbye to Gaius.

"You got the food I prepared for you?" Gaius peppers.

"Yes."

"Be careful with the wine. You know what you're like. One whiff of a barmaid's apron and you're singing like a sailor."

"Why haven't I seen that yet?" I tease.

"I'll be fine," he says, giving me a stink eye.

"Are you sure you don't want an extra blanket?"

"It's okay, really. I'll be alright."

"Well, make sure you are. Do whatever it takes."

They hug, like a father saying goodbye to a child. I wave goodbye, watching him leave out the door. The pull already becoming stronger with each step he takes, a feeling I know he experiences too. My throat tightens and my eyes sting. Gaius gives me a sympathetic look, walking over to me, embracing me in a hug.

"It's ok my dear," he comforts, patting my hair.

I sob into his robe, ugly blubber of snot and tears mixing as I cling to him. I cry so much my sobs turn into dry heaves. "I don't want him to go," I sniffle. "Also, I need to tell you something that I found out."

We sit down at his table and I pull out the book. I recount the events of the past month not leaving out any details. I need his advice, his fatherly support. I give him the pages I ripped out, warning him that Merlin doesn't know. I try to describe the feeling of the mark, the few times it's happened. I also divulge me anxiety that Merlin isn't going to be near and what that means for both of us.

Gaius admits to knowing the stories of Vessels but like both the book and dragon, his information is limited.

"But I don't know how to, nothing can tell me what I need to do," I exclaim tearing my hands through my hair as we discuss Vessels healing their Meistr. "And I don't want to ask Merlin because I know him. He'll hate that he's responsible for me as well now."

"Why don't you go rest in your chambers for a while, let yourself breath," he insists. I nod, thanking him for everything. I hold the book to my chest, slowly walking along the stone path back to my corridor. I do as Gaius said, lying down on my bed, hugging my pillow. The pull feels stronger than ever now, and I don't know how I will sleep.

I pick my sewing back up in an effort to distract myself which it does for a while, the sheer frustration of the fabric pulling thoughts of Merlin out of my mind. The sun begins to lower, my room darkening when it becomes too much. I drop the fabric on the table, breathing heavily and bending over. My stomach gurgles and I try to calm myself, feeling like I'm about to vomit.

"I...I can't," I cry out.

I have to go, even if I am scared of travelling so far, the pull overrides it, becoming my natural instinct. That feeling you get in your gut when you know somethings wrong. I shove my stuff away, changing into pants and a blouse. I go to leave, doubling back to get my bow and quiver.

I need the armoury for arrows, and then I would take a horse. I know the path well enough to Ealdor, I had passed it many times but never took it. I enter the armoury, scanning the room for the arrow stock but the Prince's presence surprises me.

"Sire," I greet. He is dressed in chainmail, tightening his armour. "What are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he counters, eyes gesturing to my bow. "But I think we both know the answer."

"Merlin."

He nods. "He's been a good friend, it's the least I can do for him."

"I'm coming."

"Very well."

Third Person POV

Merlin sits on a log next to his mother.

"They shouldn't be here. Especially the Lady Morgana. Isn't she the King's ward?" his mother worries.

"Not that you'd know it. She's the only person I know who isn't frightened of him."

"It won't make any difference to Kanen that they're women."

"I know. But I couldn't talk them out of coming." He eyes the bruise on his mother's face with discontent. "I want to make him pay for what he did to you."

"Promise me you'll be careful. No one can find out about you."

"They won't. They never do," he assures, his mother not needing to know somebody already did besides Gaius.

"Get some rest," she instructs, going to lay down herself.

Merlin smiles at her but it falls into a frown as she moves out of sight. His gut feels unsettled, on the surface, he believes it just nervous for his mother and home but deep down he knows that the blame rests with the connection to Elena. It feels as though his link to magic is weak. Is this what Kilgharrah meant?

He picks up a stick from the fire, the end burning embers. He blows on the end, embers floating into the air.

"Draca," he whispers, eyes flashing gold. Instead of feeling powerful, his body strains, a feeling he has never associated with magic before. It had always come so naturally to him yet right now it is as though he is learning it from the beginning. The embers take the shape of a dragon but float away soon after, nowhere near as simple as it should be.

The distance weakened his link, weakening his magic in return. He exhales, both in frustration and exhaustion. Merlin doesn't want to rely on Elena for his magic but it is addicting when she is near, like a power high and now he's experiencing withdrawal. He's weak. He debates internally whether he should have left Camelot, knowing the girl probably feels something similar but he glances over to his mother and he is certain he is doing the right thing.

Elena's POV.

Arthur and I gallop on our horses, bow on my back instead of the saddle. As we ride, my arm begins to burn terribly but ignore it, heading closer and closer to him by the minute, blinking away tiredness. We settle into a trot, the sky dark and well into the night. It only takes us a few hours before we see a makeshift settlement, four horses tide up. Arthur gestures for me to keep quiet, dismounting from his horse. I silently slide off mine as well, watching the Prince approach the camp with his sword drawn. The sense of fulfilment, one I hadn't felt since Merlin left comes back to me and I know for sure he is here.

Arthur holds his sword up to Merlin's neck who wields his own.

"I'd ask you for money, but I know you don't have any," he taunts.

"Arthur!" Merlin exclaims, spinning around with the sword in his hand, nearly taking off the Prince's head if he did not duck.

"Put the sword down, Merlin. You look ridiculous."

"Yes, you're much better with a mop," I preach, walking out of the shadows.

"Elena! You too," Merlin beams.

"I thought that I could get some bow practice in," I shrug.

The three of us sit by a newly lit fire, warming our hands. I wait till Arthur goes to bed to talk to Merlin, sure that everybody else is sleeping.

"Merlin. When you left, it felt horrible. Like I was going to be sick," I tell him hushed in tone. "I felt you use magic earlier, my arm burned. I don't think we can be physically apart for long. I found a book, it said that we could train to get better. The best could be on the other side of the world and still feel the Vessel's help."

"I know. I did a simple spell. Something I've known all my life but it was hard, like I had to force my mind to perform it." He holds his hand out into the fire. "Draca." Warmth fills the mark; a beautiful image of a dragon appears in the flame, flying around. "That felt incredible."

"I felt it too."

The next morning, we wake up early to the sun, Gwen and Morgana only just realising Arthur and mine's arrival. We set out riding early, my bow again placed on my back. I have my usual knife lodged in my boot.

We take the path to Ealdor, a territory now unknown to me but soon the small village becomes visible through the trees. We ride in, unnoticed as the villagers are focused on one man, a dark-haired barbarian who is yelling at a man on the ground.

"That's Kanen," Hunith, Merlin's mother says. "He's going to kill Matthew."

"Not if can help it," I growl, removing my bow, knocking an arrow. Kanen raises his axe to make a final blow onto Matthew and I release the bow, the arrow which sinks into the post next to his head. "That's a warning!" I yell to him, in full view. Arthur dismounts, pulling out his sword as Kanen goes to make a swing at me, blocking the hit. The rest of us dismount as well, brandishing their swords while I load another arrow.

"Kill them!" Kanen shrieks, his men engaging in combat. I pull the string back, aiming for one of the men on horseback. My arrow lodges in his leg. Not a fatal hit but enough to knock him out of the fight. A man dressed in animal skin runs up to me, his sword high. I duck down to avoid his swing, grabbing my knife at the same time. His momentum sends him forward as I twirl past him, digging my elbow backwards to send him down. While he is unbalanced, I shove my knife into him. My mark warms, alerting me that Merlin cast a spell. I scan the environment, making sure my friends are holding their own. Kanen and his men are outnumbered, unprepared to fight today, Merlin alive and well.

"You'll pay for this with your lives. All of you!"

"Haven't heard that one before!" I yell at him as he rides away on horseback with one other man. Merlin stands with a farmer's boy, acting like old friends and I realise they probably are. Merlin grew up here. Arthur calls for the villagers to address them.

"I know Kanen's kind. He'll be back. And when he is, you must be ready for him. First of all, we have to prepare for-"

"Am I the only one wondering who the hell this is?" The farmer's boy interrupts.

"You're speaking to the man who may have just saved your damn life, and if you need to put a name to it, it's Prince Arthur of Camelot," I snarl at him.

"And I'm Prince William of Ealdor," he sneers, glaring at me.

"Well you're not doing a good job at it then are you," I scowl, putting my bow on my back.

"Kanen will be back, and when he is, he'll be looking for revenge. You've just signed our death warrants."

"Your death warrant was already signed before we got here!" I snap, striding up to the boy but a hand stops me, one belonging to the Prince. His hand stays, holding my wrist in s subtle warning to stand down.

"That's alright Elena. This is your village. What would you have us do?" Arthur questions, not angry at the boy's earlier remarks, which just makes me admire him more. This is my future King.

"We can't fight against Kanen. He has too many men."

"So what's the alternative?"

"Give him what he wants."

I hold back another snide comment, Arthur's hand tightening. The rest of the village seems to agree with me, shaking their heads.

"Then what? Those of you who don't starve to death will face him again next harvest. And the harvest after that."

"We'll manage. We'll survive."

"In constant fear. How can you survive if he takes everything you have?" I plead to reason.

"The only way he can be stopped is if you stand up to him."

"No. You just want the honour and glory of battle! That's what drives men like you. Look, if you want to fight then go home and risk the lives of your own people, not ours," he snaps, storming away.

"Will!" Merlin calls.

"I'll follow you. If I'm to die, then I want to go out fighting." Hunith steps forward, a determined face washing over her.

"That goes for me too," Matthew stands forward.

The villagers one by one stand forward, declaring their commitment.

I sit with Arthur as we begin to settle for the night, eating plain stew out of a wooden bowl. The Prince doesn't say much, just swirling around his food with the spoon. It's obvious that Will's words got to him.

"Nobody that knows you well, believes that," I say.

"What do you mean?"

"Will. If you were only fighting for the glory you would not come to fight some barbaric bandits attacking an outlying village in a kingdom that is not even in Camelot. I've told you before but I'll tell you again. You'll make a great King."

Arthur lets out a short laugh. "You have quite the mouth on you, didn't think you were so eager to defend my honour as a Prince," he comments, smiling lightly. "I have distinct memories of you calling me an idiot and swine."

"I wasn't defending your honour as a Prince," I tell him. "But as a friend. You are still both of those things but it just adds to your charm," I giggle.

"My charm?" he snorts.

"Yes, your charm. Didn't think you had girls swooning at your feet because of you intelligence did you?" I tease. Arthur scoffs, pushing me off my seat. I land on the ground in laughter, enjoying time with the Prince.

"At least I have charm, you lack any sort of enticement," he jeers as I join him back on the log.

"And here I thought I had the Prince falling for me," I cry, a hand against my forehead, leaning dramatically on his shoulder. "How will I ever live now?" Arthur's hand wraps around my neck, trapping my head to his stomach. He rubs my head roughly, messing my hair. "My hair!" I shriek my words mixing with Arthur. I manage to push him away, landing on the ground by his legs.

"From what I hear, you don't need me. You have Leon wrapped around your finger," he comments.

"I sure do," I admit with confidence. "And do that again I'll make sure he kicks your arse at your next training session."

"Please," he scoffs. "I could beat him with my eyes closed."

"I don't know, he's one of the best in Camelot," I counter. We bicker for a while longer till Merlin calls us over to show us our beds which are blankets on the ground. I sigh, used to my plush bed but I hold my tongue knowing that Hunith has provided us which so much already.