Everything was on fire.
There was an uncontrollable, unescapable heat running through his entire body, like his very blood was boiling under his skin. Even his throat burned, the fire sitting on his tongue and travelling down into his chest.
Then there was the throbbing in the back of his head. It reminded Merlin of the time he had fallen out of a tree when he was younger. He and Will had raced each other to the top but halfway up the branch beneath his foot had snapped, sending him tumbling to the ground.
Is that what happened? Was he with Will?
No, that can't be right. He was somewhere else, somewhere inside. Somewhere with reds and blues and golds and—
Everything was moving. Or maybe he was moving. It was so hard to focus on anything other than the pain coursing through his entire being. It was inside his head, his chest, it reached to the very tips of his fingers and down to the soles of his feet.
But somewhere underneath it all he could feel someone else's touch. The faint sense of a hand gripping his wrist, another holding the back of his leg. And the pressure in his chest wasn't just from the fire, no there was something sharp pressing into the bottom of his ribs. And it was moving. Why was it moving?
There were voices floating around him, he was sure of it. First close by and then further away, travelling closer like a whisper on the wind.
Only there was no wind. And no fire.
Or was there?
Everything was dark and hot and cold and nothing made sense.
Cold? It wasn't cold before was it? This cold was different from the fire, not as intense and only in his head. No not in, on. Sitting at the forefront of his mind doing its best to defeat the flames but it was never going to succeed. Nothing could stop them.
Arthur it's too dangerous.
The words echoed inside his mind, cutting through the pain, reverberating through the air. The first words that he had been able to hear clearly since the fire started.
Arthur it's too dangerous.
Arthur.
Arthur.
Arthur.
Where was Arthur? It was his job to keep Arthur safe. His destiny. He couldn't fail, not now. He needed to keep Arthur safe.
So where was Arthur?
And where was he?
Everything was dark and burning and nothing made sense.
The darkness had grown.
He wasn't sure how long he had been here, but the black tendrils of pain and fear kept coming closer and closer, curling around his limbs, trapping him in this unknown place.
The coolness on his forehead would come and go, like it knew it was fighting a battle it couldn't win. But all the while there was a strange presence close by, holding his hand or stroking his hair. He could feel their touch, soft and gentle just like his mother's would be whenever he fell ill, but he couldn't see them. He couldn't see anything.
The darkness pulled tighter and he struggled uselessly against it, pushing his hands forward in a weak attempt to stop its encroaching. But then, in the distance, there was a flicker of light. Of gold. He could feel it calling to him and he tried desperately to reach it but it was no use.
The bond he had with his magic was impossible to explain. It was a part of him, in every fibre of his being, connecting him to the world around him. There was magic in everything, in the trees with their bright green leaves and unmoving roots, in the rivers and streams flowing clear and strong, in the healing herbs that grew all around and the unrelenting breeze sweeping through the grass, all filled with the sacredness of the earth.
And Merlin was connected to it all, he could feel it everywhere he went. So it was only now that he fully realised just what it meant to have that bond. And what it meant when it was gone.
He couldn't feel it at all and it was terrifying, but it was still there, just up ahead. If only he could reach it.
He tried to speak but nothing happened. The burning in his throat was impossible to ignore and he tried hopelessly to rid himself of it, swallowing painfully until the whisper of a word would make itself known.
He stared at the light up ahead, willing it to come closer as he spoke. "Liffrea, wuldres wealdend, woroldare forgeaf."
The words came out soft and jumbled and he had to close his eyes at the sudden pain running through his head.
Did he say it right? After a lifetime of wordlessly conjuring magic in his mind, it was surprising just how difficult it was to say it out loud.
The light was still so far away, so out of reach and he felt so much weaker than he had before. The fire had started again, burning its way up his fingers, along his arms, sitting uncomfortably on his chest.
Arthur could be walking into a trap.
There it was again. Echoing all around, so much clearer than the faint mumbles that would occasionally reach his ears.
Arthur.
Arthur.
Arthur.
If Arthur was in trouble then Merlin needed to get out of here and help. He needed to be strong enough. But everything hurt and every desperate attempt to escape left him on fire.
As he tried to catch his breath he noticed that the coolness was back along with the gentle fingers in his hair and closing his eyes tightly once more he tried to focus on it, on anything but the pain dancing within.
It's a trap.
It's a trap.
It's a trap.
He couldn't get it out of his head. Arthur was walking into a trap and Merlin needed to be there to save him.
The light had been getting closer. Or maybe he had been getting closer to the light. It was impossible to tell in the inky blackness, but it was there, within his grasp.
He stretched out his arms, his fingers splayed as they came within touching distance but still the fire kept him from reaching it.
"Eft gewunigen wilgesiþas, þonne wig cume," he muttered but still the words felt muddled leaving his mouth.
He needed to help Arthur. He needed to get free. With a groan he pulled at the dark shadow holding him back, feeling it clasp him tighter. It tugged at his hair and weighed down his feet, grabbing at his chest as if trying to pull his heart back through his spine.
But still he kept going. Arthur needed him, he couldn't fail him, he couldn't fail in his destiny.
His groan grew louder and louder until the pain-filled scream it had become was deafening even to his own ears. It felt like his limbs were going to be ripped away but he couldn't give up now. He kept going, kept trying to get away, ignoring the fire and the pain and the fear until finally, finally he made it.
All if took was the slightest touch for the golden light to fill his vision entirely. It swirled all around like an unstoppable windstorm, reaching inside and taming the fire into a much more welcoming warmth. It enveloped him completely, soaring through every nerve in his body until all he could feel was the wondrous energy that ran through the very fabric of the universe.
As he blinked away the blinding brightness, a confusing scene began to form in front of his eyes. A dark cavern with a tall grey rock face was being lit up by a single torch. Merlin squinted as he tried to make out the face of the person holding the fire but it was no use, it was obscured, blurred like he had something in his eyes.
But the person hanging from the edge of the rocks was unmistakable. Merlin was too late and now Arthur was in trouble! There he was, gripping tightly to the stone as he single handedly tried to fight the spindly spider creature that was making its way towards him. Try as he might, Merlin couldn't get any closer. Instead he was forced to watch it all unfold.
He had seen Arthur fight before, had even been on the receiving end of it during the prince's training sessions, but even Merlin could feel the horrible, creeping doubt filling him. And when the mysterious torch-wielding person walked away and the cavern was plunged into darkness, Arthur's task seemed downright impossible to complete.
"Arthur, it's too dark!" He tried to call out to him, the words reverberating around his head. "It's too dark!"
Feeling the magic still swirling around him, he tried to grasp hold of it and focus on the spell. Arthur needed a light, so that's exactly what he would provide.
"Fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme. Fromum feohgiftum." He whispered as the golden light surrounding him gained a blue tinge. The warmth of the magic flooded him as a small section broke away and formed a ball, a bright guiding light that delicately floated towards Arthur.
He watched as Arthur successfully pulled himself onto the ledge and drew his sword, looking around for any potential enemies. When Merlin could see that the way was clear, he let the ball of light rise steadily in the air, illuminating the path for Arthur's ascent.
But Arthur wasn't moving. It was like he was frozen to the spot, his eyes searching out a route to a cluster of flowers growing out of the rocks.
A tiny itch in the back of Merlin's mind told him that the flowers were important but he had no idea why. And as more spiders started to crawl up the wall, there was no time for Arthur to waste trying to reach them.
"Leave them, Arthur," Merlin shook his head as he shouted over to him, his hands beginning to tremble as he tried to hold the ball steady. "Go, save yourself. Follow the light!"
But Arthur wouldn't listen. He never did listen to Merlin. Instead he did his best to climb up to the flowers, stumbling over the ledges in his way and losing his grip on the rocks. Merlin tried to lift the light higher, tried to encourage Arthur to leave but it was no use. Arthur kept going until he reached his goal.
Merlin could feel the magic inside him swirling stronger and stronger the longer he waited for Arthur, settling only slightly as he finally plucked out a singular flower and carefully tucked it away in his pouch.
He noticed the small smile on Arthur's face once the flower was safe and even his magic seemed to glow brighter. But a part of him could feel that it wouldn't last forever and the spiders were getting closer, their long legs racing up towards Arthur.
He watched as Arthur faltered, ripping his gloves off with his teeth after his hands slipped on the rocks one too many times. He didn't have time for this.
"Faster. Go faster. Follow the light!" Merlin cried out over the roar of the wind that had picked up but he could barely hear his own words. The billowing golden streams of light were circling around him, ruffling his hair and clouding his vision. "Move! Climb!"
The higher Arthur climbed, the higher he guided the light, doing his best to control the storm building inside of him as he shone on each handhold in Arthur's path. The prince moved quickly, glancing back every few seconds to check how close the spiders were, but his steps no longer faltered until at long last he saw the end up ahead.
As Arthur reached the exit and the blue light floated away, Merlin felt the storm quiet around him and the magic within him fade to nothing.
His entire being felt drained.
The darkness had returned.
He was floating.
Fading.
Surrounded by a fire that would not be tamed.
The burning wouldn't stop. Every time his awareness returned, the heat was there waiting for him, clinging to his skin.
He wasn't sure where Arthur had gone, or if he was safe. Arthur needed to be safe.
Merlin needed to know what was going on.
But the nothingness had grown since he had first got here. The ghostly touches against his skin were much more infrequent and the few whispers that managed to break through the black were beyond impossible to decipher.
Everything hurt and the pain pulsing under his skin was unrelenting. He was hardly aware of his hands anymore but he had a vague sense they were trembling.
That was worrying, right?
The blackness was softer now, faded at the edges, no longer pulling him back like it knew it didn't have to fight any longer. Like it knew it had won. The last remaining tendril was wrapped around his chest, not squeezing but just tight enough to make it hard to breathe.
The golden light had long since vanished and had left an unnatural emptiness in its place. Merlin couldn't feel his magic anymore, not even a flicker, instead there was something new. He'd never felt it before, not properly at least, his magic had always surrounded it, hiding it from view.
But there it was, his life force, like a piece of string reaching into his soul, being pulled tighter and tighter.
Something was wrong. Surely it shouldn't feel like that, the uncomfortable tautness just inches away from being broken.
He squeezed his eyes shut and desperately tried to take a breath as a new wave of pain ran through him. But nothing was happening. He couldn't take any air in and the darkness wrapped around his chest took that moment to squeeze as hard as it could.
Merlin tried to gasp but nothing would come out, his mouth opening and closing as he did everything he could to not let go. Clawing at his throat and pulling uselessly at the darkness.
Tears sprung in his eyes as he felt the string pull tighter and tighter and tighter until-
snap.
There was a light up ahead. No not a light, a rope, weaved with a golden thread that grew brighter the closer he got.
It's hanging down into the darkness, breaking through the shadow and offering a lifeline.
He didn't know where the rope led but it felt safe, it felt like home, and suddenly he wasn't afraid anymore. The fire and the pain and the fear were gone and he could feel the pull of his magic calling him.
There was no hesitation as he gripped hold of it and already he could feel the string inside his soul knitting itself back together.
As he climbed higher and higher the world around him changed, the darkness bursting into colour, and once the blinding light had been blinked away the faces of Gwen and Gaius smiling down on him came into focus, relief shining in their eyes.
There was a burning in his throat and everything hurt but the warm, irreplaceable connection to his magic was back and underneath it all tucked away safely, his string was still there, unbroken.