Author's note: I am not going to say anything as my apology won't be enough for my tardiness. Just enjoy the chapter. And A Happy New Year.

Chapter 48

A Calm Drenched in Fear

"Where have you been?" The queen of Elmet asked as the king entered the royal tent.

"I guess you already know." Merlin answered with a guilty smile on his lips.

" Let me rephrase that." Freya said as she came closer to Merlin, her arms encroaching behind his neck. Merlin was becoming a little bit nervous as he felt her warms breath on his cheeks.

"What were you doing with Arthur on Izrakh Mountain before the day of battle without resting?" Freya brought Merlin furthermore closer to her eyes and her brown eyes were piercing his blues.

"What could be so much more important than sleeping without which your functioning as a warrior and leader on the battlefield could be hampered very much even costing us the war."

"Battle plans. We were discussing battle plans."

Freya wanted to believe that Merlin was lying that he was hiding something. But her husband's serious but calm looks made Freya think otherwise.

"We were reviewing the plans of our assault one last time. AND."This time, Merlin took Freya's face on his hand. "We concocted a second tactics if the first one, the official one didn't work."

"Want to hear?" Merlin asked.

Freya nodded and Merlin began to tell the queen a detailed plan if the things didn't work out for them while never knowing that the king of Elmet was lying to her effortlessly. Never realizing that her husband was planning to sacrifice himself to fulfil an old prophecy of redemption.

And as they laid on the bed at the late hours of night with dawn threatening to break at any moment, she never knew that this could be her last night with her beloved. She kissed his lips and her hands kept caressing his black raven hair as her legs locked around his waist but not even for a second, she realized that a storm was razing inside her king's heart.

Never knowing this peaceful moment of passion could become the last moment of calmness before the enraging storm which might destroy her hopes and dreams for good,

FOREVER.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

If someone told Morgana that today would be like any other day, she would've easily believed them. After all, the red sun was begining to show it's face like a shy child, the morning birds were chirping as usual heralding the coming of dawn. No one would think that a horrendous carnage would follow soon at this field flanked by two large mountains. But then her eyes would fix on the thousands of soldiers with swords and spears, with bows and arrows, with mage staffs and halberds forming ranks against an enemy yet to appear.

The scouts reported they were coming. The undead army had crossed the Tamson river and were closing in on their position in this canyon. Only Camlann river remained between them and the enemy. This was their last stand. Morgana knew that the whole of Europa depended on this battle. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew that Merlin and only Merlin had the capability to stop this. To stop him. The strongest warlock of all time and the dark one knew it. Knew that as long as Merlin lived, Albion lived and so lived the hope of mankind.

That's why he crossed the sea, risked his whole army. All for one man. For all of Europa meant nothing to the dark one if Albion remained free from the grasp of darkness. One shining beacon of light for humanity.

That's why they were coming. To douse the light of hope.

The flying vultures were looking down upon the flocks of living, as if mocking them for their impending doom. Morgana knew this was their last chance, for if this failed, if they lost this, there would be nothing but darkness.

Nothing but hopeless void.

As much as the shield maiden of Saxony hated to admit it, Merlin and his army of sorcerers and dragons were their last hope. That's why she set her hatred aside. That's why she made her peace.

For she knew this was the only way. And thus what started as an investigation turned out into an all out war, a struggle for life and death. And not only for her. For those whom she loved. For her new home. Where she was treated as a human, not an abomination. For Saxony and most of all…

For Max.

Yes, in that moment, dressed in an ebony mail, with a short sword on her hip and a staff in her hand, walking through the seas of numerous hard faced soldiers and mages. She realized it.

They did have their differences. They did have their conflicts. Sometimes mortal conflicts. But as time passed, like acid burning gold, he cleaned off her darkness. His head strong ways were odd, to be sure. But they worked. And now again, after years of bitterness and anger, she finally knew love.

And she knew where she belonged. At Saxony. At his side. She wanted him. Not because she wanted power. Not because she wanted an army to conquer a kingdom. But because she was in love. As weird as it sounded it was the truth. She loved Max.

And speak of the devil.

" Morgana, are you alright?"

Max came out of the columns of Saxon soldiers he would lead in battle. In steel plated armour with great sword on his back, he would've looked like those Glorious knights on Tarot cards if it was not for the amount of mud and dirt on him.

"What?" Morgana came out of her dazed state.

"Are you alright?" He asked again.

"No, no….. I mean yes, yes. I am fine."

Look at you. She reprimanded herself. Talking like a village girl and twitching like a cat. But who could blame her? For all her life, especially after Merlin's betrayal, she didn't trust men and truth be told, few men trusted her.

But here, just before an incoming apocalypse, stood before her someone she could trust and someone who could trust her.

"What's on your mind? You look troubled." Max asked putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Nothing much. Don't worry." She said trying to put a smile on her face in an attempt to reassure the prince. But judging by the look at his concerned face, she could imagine that she failed miserably.

Truth was she was worried. That vision. That vision which first came to her just before she first set her feet on Saxony. The vision where she herself killing Merlin. And after entering this pass of Camlann she realized that this was the field of her vision. This was the place where she had killed Merlin, the hope of Albion. In her dream, in her premonition or whatever that could be she found herself to be the betrayer of hope. The bringer of darkness in this land and by extension, the whole world.

Which was actually quite odd. For whatever reason she hated Merlin all these years, be it the poison or her lust for power, she found that feeling of resentment towards the king of Elmet getting diminished with each passing day. Then, why? Why such uneasiness. Why being unhinged by a vision which might be nothing more than a nightmare?

And she was feeling such sudden warmness and ecstasy out of nowhere!

By the time she realized that the prince had pressed his lips on her lips, he was already heading towards the Saxon legion. She wanted to call him back. Wanted to tell him something.

But a sound interrupted her. The sound of a horn. The horn of Elmet. And that means…..

They were here. Morgana teleported herself to the mountain of Izrakh. And what she saw was absolutely terrifying. Hundreds of thousands of undead, mindless monsters hounding for human flesh were running towards the canyon. They were crossing the Camlann River and even though they were destroyed by sea water as Elmetian naval scouts reported before. River water wasn't even hindering them.

A huge screeching roar sounded above her head. A great gust of wind unbalanced her as three giant dragons flew past her.

One was Golden scaled and looked old as time and larger than the other two.

Another was pearly white. Her great white wings beating with such ferocity and grace that she outshined even the great dragon.

But behind them, another roar came. A last dragon blacker than a newmoon night. Blue piercing eyes glowing like sapphires lit on fire. Roaring towards the sky with all his might.

The army below got the signal. And they began to get in formation. What great show of might! Such splendor! The likes of which Morgana had never seen before in her life. She had heard among the soldiers that the king of Elmet could turn himself into a Dragon but to see him up close, in his mighty form shook her into the core.

She was no match for him. Such show of raw pure unadulterated power which she couldn't even imagine.

" I see you, My Child." A chilling voice said in her mind.

Then something gripped her. Her mind became numb. She lost her sensation. Her limbs went out of her control and she knew the darkness within her still lingered. The part of her that craved power still remained within the darkest corner of her soul.

Her nightmare flashed before her eyes. Fear drenched her mind. The calmness broke and that silky velvety voice told her, " Did you really think I wouldn't get my revenge, Morgana? None defies Azazil. You are mine as you have always been."

As her consciousness faded and darkness seeped into her soul. She realized that she never said to him,

"I love you."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Arthur Pendragon, The king of Camelot, leader of the southern Alliance, rode atop a white horse. Fully claded in steel plate armour forged in Elmetian Royal Forge, he overlooked the battlefield from the vantage point of a high boulder. Spearmen were at front on the lowest slope of the field. Their steel tip of the spears shining in the morning sun, The wooden spike and stake in fornt of them would hopefully null the first wave of undead horde.

Thousands of archers were positioned behind them on higher slopes, arrows at the ready. Arthur could feel their fear. The tension in their midst.

Who could blame them? Against hundreds of thousands, even seventy thousands felt nothing. And in all his years as a warrior, he never felt any fear. He always went into battle with his unsheathed never caring for his life. Only glory mattered.

But now, looking at the enemy crossing the razing waves of Camlann river, fear gripped him.

Was it for Guinevere?

Or for his son?

Or for his own life?

" Nervous, Sire?" Leon , his first knight whom he trusted above all knights asked putting a hand on his shoulder.

He looked ready as ever in his armour, his red cloak fluttering in the wind. But his eyes, he could sense that tinge of fear in them.

" Do I look like that, Leon?"

" Yes, Sire. But Aren't we all?"

" I guess you are right. Are the mages ready?"

Arthur asked.

Leon looked at the mountains. Hundreds of hooded figures with staff in hand crowded. A blue veil began to expand over the valley as the sounds of chanting spells began to increase exponentially.

" Merlin said they will shield us as long as they could." Leon said with a hint of sceptisim.

" You doubt that they won't be able to protect us long enough?" Truth be told, Arthur doubted it too. But now was not the time to doubt. Now was the time to have faith.

For without faith, all was lost and Albion was doomed.

"We will win, Leon. And we will see Camelot again. Gather your men. We will ride. I am coming. Just give me a moment alone."

Leon nodded and rode off where the knights were gathering. The Saxon legion were there too. The plan was to make a pronged assault on the undead's flanks through the narrow passes while the enemy were engaged with spearman. Even though that wouldn't be enough.

But hopefully they would be able to buy Merlin enough to find the root of this menace and end it all. Now that the Three dragons… He still couldn't believe that he saw three dragons flying over him a few minutes ago and just now, they had begun to engage and were burning the undead in hundreds.

Now was the time to ready for the assault. For the sake of Humanity, the Camelot and Saxon army would ride together.

To death and glory.

To Freedom.

Are you with me?

Arthur asked those inside him.

" We are, king. Go forth, We will be by your side." Said King Somnus.

As he rode towards his knights, he heard another roar and he knew that all his plans were going to change.

And he didn't know if he could save the life of his best friend.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As the wind smacked his large snout, Merlin could sense the power raging through him. As he burned through the hordes of undead , he couldn't relish in such destructive raw power. For they were once humans too. Aithusa and Kilgharrah were doing their part to curb the enemy number even though they seemed endless.

As he looked through the enemy army, he couldn't find him.

Then, as if to answer his summon, a guttural cry rang through the battlefield.

They arose through the fogs.

Three dragons. Each as large as their owns. And upon the red dragon, sat a man garbed in regal attire.

"Long time no see."

"King Merlin."

At this moment, Merlin realized that this was going to be far harder than he had expected.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Author's note: Next chapter: In the heat of battle. Again I WISH YOU A HAPPY NEW YEAR 2021 AND LEAVE THIS WRETCHED MESS NAMED 2020.