A/N: As most of you by now know, I've been working pretty hard to update this story daily. However, I'm going on a trip from the 28th to the 8th and will likely be unable to post new chapters. As of right now (my birthday, mind you!) I'm trying to write as many chapters as I can before leaving, so I can hopefully post one or two while I'm out. Cheers!

Merlin…

Merlin fell out of the chair next to Gaius's bed, his heart racing. He couldn't shake the image of blue eyes, as deep and impenetrable as the sea, from his mind. They were familiar, mischievous and frightening.

I'm coming, Merlin, she had said, and the voice was familiar too, but the dream was fading too fast and he couldn't remember who it was. Come find me. Come play.

He pulled himself back into the chair, noting with relief that his fall hadn't woken Gaius.

Who are you? He asked, but there was no answer.

Aithusa loved her morning trips.

She left just before dawn every day, when Morgana was still asleep, and flew as high as she dared. The stars hadn't yet faded away by that time, pinpricks of silver against a softening purple blanket. They had been her only comfort those two years she spent in an open grave with Morgana and when she saw them now she felt the same sense of hopefulness. She liked to watch the sun rise, too. It bathed the tops of the trees in a burnished gold and it made the world seem full of promise.

She didn't like it when Morgana controlled her. She felt like a puppet in her own skin. Given the choice she wouldn't have fought that black dragon in the woods—whatever her mistress's feelings towards the men from Camelot, Aithusa hadn't seen another of her kind in a long while. She was lonely. She knew, inexplicably, that Kilgharrah had died, and it made her sad. They hadn't been together for long before she'd left with the sorceress but all the same, he had been so happy around her. Kind. Aithusa had gotten the impression that he was terribly lonely, too, and she hadn't understood it at the time. Now she did, and all too well.

Aithusa did her best not to think on her trips. She focused on the stars, and on the sun, and on how lovely the forests were, because she didn't want to focus on how she was becoming more and more certain that Morgana was obsessed. The dragon was scared. Morgana had long been all she had, and she would follow the sorceress to the end of the earth, but all the same… Surely it was wrong to take control of your only friend. And maybe that was excusable. Morgana really did feel that she had lost everything. She was crippled and broken-hearted and Aithusa would do anything to help, but she didn't want to hurt people. She never wanted to kill. Kilgharrah had always taught her mercy, he said, after he learned it from a dear friend. She wished she could talk to Morgana about it, but she didn't have the words. Aithusa didn't think that she'd be able to get through to her besides.

At that moment she could feel Morgana stirring and it was with a heavy heart that she turned back.

Deep within the Isle of the Blessed, the priestess wandered. She was still transient, drifting like the fog that wrapped in tendrils around the ruins of her castle, but she could feel her magic settling in with an ebony brilliance. It was too early for her to leave the island, but that was no matter, because she had to prepare for a very special guest.

She floated towards the shoreline, kneeling and immersing her hands in the waters of the lake. There were no ripples at her touch; it was as if she'd slid her fingers through black glass.

"Alase meina emeís nekkrús," her voice was low, like thunder, and it could be heard resounding across the bay and onwards, through the Darkling Woods and beyond. "Namo da̱sei ayendres ḵrís kardidá, kho̱rís ancéfalo. Alase meina cotopóti̱n triplí̱fengári kaina sotosae to kharino drakon."

Come to me, ye dead. Give me men without hearts, without minds. Come to me under the triple moon and kill the crimson dragon.

In the depths of the Lake of Avalon, something shifted in the mud. There was a deep, hollow groaning, made wet by the mulch. It spoke of ageless agony, but it spoke also of relief. There were thousands of voices, and they came not just from the lake, but from the forests, and from the mountains.

"Free," they said, and the sound grew louder as they came closer to the surface.

"Free from the earth and the fires..."

"We spent so long in the dark—"

"-so long in the black."

"Mistress is calling us."

"We will kill the dragon."

A/N: For that last bit of dialogue, I had downloaded a bunch of very cool and very scary fonts. Unfortunately, FFN didn't like my really cool fonts, which is sad because it added nicely to the effect...

I had a different font for every line- Broken, Crazy Killer, Face Your Fears, and Cure Picture Show from UrbanFonts (if anyone was curious).