translations of dragontongue:
sphaîra toû pŷrós = sphere of fire
pŷr = fire
Merlin stepped into the Crystal Cave and immediately felt it: dragonfyre, lapping at the soles of his feet and dancing up his spine. There was magic here. Merlin needed a moment to anchor himself and the feeling muted to a faint tingle at the back of his mind.
"You all right?" Lancelot asked him, ever perceptive.
Merlin gave him a tense smile. "This place… I sense something."
"Death, by any chance?" Arthur grumbled behind them. "Did you even bring any torches?"
Merlin raised an eyebrow at him and stretched out his right hand. "Sphaîra toû pŷrós!"
A bright, glowing ball of red, swirling light appeared. A flick of the wrist, and it rose into the air until it hovered above their heads, illuminating their surroundings better than any torch ever could. He threw a pointed look over his shoulder.
"Oh," Arthur said sheepishly and Merlin smirked at him.
They had walked a few steps into the cave when Merlin realised the dragons weren't following. They were still hovering at the entrance with their wings folded and tails curled in. The cave looked to be big enough for them, so a lack of space couldn't be the issue. Were they afraid?
"Aren't you coming?" Merlin called out.
Mynur blew out a small puff of smoke as if irritated. "We can't."
Merlin frowned. "What do you mean, you can't?"
"This place repels us," Vethoas said cryptically.
"Repels you? How?"
"We cannot go inside," Mynur elaborated. "You must go alone."
"And leave you behind? Not a chance!"
"We can take care of ourselves, Merlin," Mynur assured him. "You mustn't abandon your quest on behalf of us."
Merlin stared at them. He didn't want to leave them behind, though of course they could keep themselves safe from bandits and the likes. There was nothing to worry about now that the wyverns were gone. They were three dragons and the older ones would look out for the inexperienced Aithusa.
But he didn't like it. Leaving them behind not only meant Merlin could not protect them, but that nobody except him could use dragonfyre. Whatever dangers lurked in the depths of the Crystal Cave, magic, and a dragon or two, sure would have come in handy.
Still, if the dragons could not enter, there was nothing to be done about it.
"Fine," he sighed. "But please be careful!"
Mynur nodded. And then, something strange happened. He turned his head, almost as if he were addressing Arthur, bowed it ever so slightly and said in a solemn tone, "Great peril lies ahead. Good fortune be with you. We await your return."
Merlin blinked. He was about to ask the dragon what he meant, but if the others had found Mynur's behaviour strange, they didn't let on. This gave him pause. Perhaps they were – understandably – too anxious about the quest to have noticed, or Merlin was simply imagining things. He decided to let it rest. Likely, Mynur's answer would have remained vague and cryptic anyway. Dragons could be infuriating like that.
They bid the drakes goodbye and made their way deeper into the cave. Hundreds of crystals were growing right out of the walls, glittering strangely in the light of Merlin's magic sphere. As they passed a cluster of them, Merlin brushed a hand over them and immediately felt the heat of dragonfyre biting at his skin. The crystal lit up bright orange. Merlin quickly retrieved his hand and the light disappeared.
"Better don't touch those," he told the group, and everyone promptly kept their distance.
They walked for a few moments before Arthur spoke up. "So, any further information about where this legendary sword might be?"
By the gods, but Arthur seemed about as obsessed with the idea of Excalibur as Balinor. Perhaps it is because he keeps whining for a weapon, Merlin thought with irritation.
"Deep within the cave," he told Arthur, hoping that would shut him up.
It didn't.
"Yes, but where exactly are we going to look for it?" Arthur prodded. "Will there be a chest? Will there be a vault? Will there be guards?"
"It's stuck in a stone," Lancelot said.
"In the middle of a lake," Percival added roughly.
"And only its true master can pull it from the rock," Gwaine finished cheerfully.
Arthur groaned. "You have got to be making this up!"
"It's a mythical sword, Arthur, what did you expect? An armoury to choose from?" Merlin told him off. "Now, shut up. I want at least a chance to hear the threat coming before we're attacked."
This had everyone quiet down and soon, all that could be heard were their careful footsteps echoing through the cave. It was eerily silent except for the occasional sound of water dripping down a wall and a faint howl of wind in the distance. The hum of magic was ever-present at the edge of Merlin's consciousness, ebbing and flowing beneath the ground.
They walked for several long minutes and Merlin soon found himself having to supress an urge to start jumping at shadows. Deeper and deeper, they went into the cave, but except for a handful of bugs and one or two bats, there seemed to be nothing living here.
Was this really it? The stories of old had always warned never to enter the cave, that it was deadly. Had those been nothing but children's tales, made up to scare or entertain, like the legend of Excalibur itself?
"Did you hear that?"
Merlin turned. One of Arthur's knights – Sir Leon, if he remembered correctly – had stopped and was holding up a hand. They all came to a halt to listen.
"I don't hear anything," Gwaine said.
"What is it?" Arthur asked.
But Sir Leon only shook his head, then tilted it, clearly straining his ears.
"There," he said.
Merlin frowned, clearly deaf to whatever it was the knight was hearing, but to his surprise, Lancelot spoke up.
"Yes. I heard it, too."
"What?" Arthur asked again.
"A sort of scurrying sound, sire," Sir Leon replied. He looked tense as he let his eyes roam over the area.
Merlin followed his example, running his gaze over the crystals and rocks around them, then squinted into the darkness beyond the shine of the sphere. There was nothing there, as far as he could tell.
"Mice," Percival offered. "Or rats."
"Or giant rats," Gwaine said, suddenly sounding elated, and started to pull out his blades.
"Wilddeoren are nothing to get excited about," Merlin hissed at him.
Gwaine only shrugged and grinned. It was at that moment that Merlin saw a giant brown claw emerge from the darkness behind Gwaine. It took Merlin three whole seconds to react to what he saw, which meant his warning came almost too late.
"Gwaine, duck!" he shouted.
Luckily, the warrior's instincts were to follow a command like that without questioning. Gwaine immediately dropped to the floor and the giant stinger of a serket only just missed his left arm. The serket let out a terrifying screak and tried again. Gwaine did a roll to the side to escape a second attack, then scrambled back onto his feet and immediately went into a defensive position, blades at the ready.
"Arthur, get behind me!" Merlin barked and raised his hand at the same time. "Pŷr!"
A steady stream of fire engulfed the serket and it crumbled to nothing but ashes on the spot. But Merlin's relief was short-lived. More scurrying sounds filled the cave and a moment later, they were surrounded by at least a dozen more serkets. They had walked right into a nest!
"Bloody—" Percival exclaimed and then, all hell broke loose.
Merlin and his men only just managed to form a protective circle around Arthur and his knights before the serkets all but launched themselves at them.
Merlin raised both hands into the air and started raining fire on them. The serkets lit up like torches, but with his attention and magic spread thin, they weren't cremated like the first one. Instead, they screaked furiously as they tried to land hits with their stingers in retaliation, even as their bodies were slowly smouldering away.
Gwaine managed to cut off a tail or two, as did Lancelot and Percival, but Merlin was nearly hit by another stinger and only just managed to focus his fire on the approaching serket to save himself from a second strike.
He felt sudden movement behind him, a brush of a hand against his hip and then, Arthur had shouldered past him, Merlin's sword in hand. Before Merlin could so much as formulate a single word of protest, Arthur had thrown himself into the fight.
And he was a sight to behold. Arthur swung the sword like he had been born to do it. It was an extension of his arm, swishing down in one long, graceful arc as he took aim at three serkets at once. He managed to cut the stinger off all of them in one strike. Then he turned in one fluid motion to attack another one, running the blade deeply into the serket's glimmering side, before retrieving the blade to have a go at a fifth serket.
In less than a minute, it was over. While Merlin and his men had managed to slay one or two of the beasts each, Arthur stood over what could only be described as a pile of carcases, breathing heavily. He had killed at least eight of the beasts completely on his own and likely assisted on a few kills more.
"Well," Arthur said in between two heavy breaths. "That was fun!"
Merlin noticed he wasn't the only one gaping at the prince. Percival, Lancelot and Gwaine stared at Arthur as if they had just had an epiphany. Only Arthur's own men looked rather smug.
"That was…" Merlin finally said, then trailed off, still lost for words.
"Yeah," Gwaine managed. "Quite."
Arthur grinned fetchingly. "Does that mean I can keep the sword?"
Absolutely not, Merlin wanted to say, but stopped himself. The Crystal Cave was clearly dangerous and they were but four men, one of which preferred to use dragonfyre over a sword anyway. Protecting their prisoners put them at an extreme disadvantage and they really couldn't afford to waste an asset like Arthur. If this is what he did to serkets, wielding a blade he had never even touched before, they would be foolish not to let him have it.
"Fine," Merlin decided, bracing himself for protest from his men. To his surprise, none was coming. They simply sheathed their own blades and turned away. "But if you try anything—"
"I get it," Arthur cut him off, then motioned at the scabbard still fastened around Merlin's hips.
Merlin unbuckled the sword belt and threw it at Arthur's already extended hand. He caught it elegantly and had the sword hanging from his hips seconds later, looking satisfied and ready for another fight, even without a single plate of armour on his body.
On a whim, Merlin called out, "Lancelot, did you bring your trusty dagger?"
Lancelot stilled, then nodded carefully.
"Would you please pass it to them?" Merlin asked and nodded at Arthur's knights.
Lancelot frowned, but obeyed wordlessly, handing the knife to a cautious-looking Sir Elyan.
"Gwaine," Merlin said.
"No."
"Please?"
"No." Gwaine crossed his arms and scowled. "Not a chance!"
"You've got two of them," Merlin pushed.
"Because I am good with two of them!" Gwaine argued and actually retreated a step. "No, Merlin, honestly!"
Merlin hesitated. He hated coming to blows with his friend, but if Arthur trained his men half as well as he fought himself, it would be downright stupid not to let them have weapons of their own, at least while they could keep an eye on them. The knights were still outnumbered and could be easily subdued by dragonfyre should they decide to rebel.
"Gwaine, it only makes sense," Merlin tried again.
"I said no."
Well, there was no way around it, then. "Do I really have to make it an order?" Merlin asked firmly.
At first, Gwaine didn't so much as move a muscle and it looked like he would make Merlin actually say the words. Then he gritted his teeth, pulled the left blade from its sheath and tossed it to the ground at Sir Leon's feet.
"Happy, my lord?" he growled and Merlin winced.
"Thank you," he said gently, immediately trying to smooth the waters now that Gwaine had relented. "I appreciate it, Gwaine."
Gwaine only turned away in a huff. He would be sulky about this for a while yet, Merlin thought with a pang of regret. He really hoped Sir Leon wouldn't try and turn that sword against them.
"Let's go," Merlin said. "And keep quiet! Sir Leon's ears likely saved us from any serious harm."
When they finally did encounter a sizable colony of wilddeoren, Gwaine was still too disgruntled to fully appreciate it. Not that there was anything to appreciate about giant, ugly rodents trying to take your limbs off, but Merlin still felt bad about breaking Gwaine's stride.
"Merlin! On your left," Arthur called out just then. Merlin turned and managed to blast away another wilddeoren before it could sink its ginormous teeth into his shoulder. It tumbled right into Arthur's path. The prince took a confident swing at it and it died on the spot, making one final pitiful sound.
"That was the last of them, I think," Lancelot announced.
They were about two hours into the cave at this point. After the serkets, they had slain a pack of magic wolves and a group of undead skeletons that had proven immune to everything but dragonfyre. Merlin was about done with this quest.
The cave was starting to narrow down into a sort of tunnel. At this point, they definitely would have had to leave the dragons behind anyway. They were lucky there wasn't a whole system of tunnels branching out. They could not afford to get lost in the Crystal Cave and Merlin certainly wasn't going to split them up.
"We should take a break," Merlin suggested, and they settled down a few paces away from the slain wilddeoren on some smooth rocks.
Percival and Sir Elyan had gotten scratched up during the fight, and Merlin made quick work of their cuts and gashes, bandaging them up after treating the worst of them with wound salve. Elyan looked stunned at receiving the same care as Percival and thanked him rather politely.
To Merlin's surprise, Arthur walked over and sat down right next to him.
"That looked to be expertly done," he said with a gesture at Elyan's patched-up forearm.
"I made the salve myself," Merlin replied, surprised to receive another compliment from the prince.
"Are all dragonlords versed in the work of a physician?" Again with the questions, too. Perhaps he was trying to soften Merlin up, eager to gather more intelligence, most likely.
"Not really," Merlin replied. "It's something that interests me. And a skill dearly needed in times of war, don't you think?"
Arthur made a pensive noise, then changed the subject. "How much longer can you keep that up?" He pointed at the sphere of light above their heads.
"As long as I like," Merlin replied and bit into some bread from his pack. "Why?" he added around his mouthful.
"Just wondering what happens when the next monster knocks you unconscious and we're all stuck in perpetual darkness."
The thought hadn't occurred to Merlin and he had a hard time swallowing his bread just then. "I think it might still be there? I've been known to wield dragonfyre in my sleep."
"Of course you have," Arthur murmured, his face incredulous.
"What?"
Arthur made a vague gesture. "Your magic. The way you use it to fight. It's certainly something."
He sounded annoyed at finding himself impressed again and Merlin couldn't help but laugh at his attitude. "Oh please! Three serkets at once? Half of that pack of wolves? You are showing off any chance you can get!"
"It's not showing off, Merlin, it's called having skill with a sword! You should try using one some time."
"You're such a prat," Merlin told him off, though he was fighting hard not to chuckle.
"At least I don't talk with my mouth stuffed!"
Merlin took another big bite and spoke through it, "Snob!"
Arthur snorted and Merlin thought he saw him grin before he took a – reasonably sized – bite of his own bread.
Merlin's gaze wandered and he found himself locking eyes with Lancelot, who was looking right back at him, appearing distinctly unimpressed by what he had just witnessed. Merlin hurried to clamp down on his amusement and munched away, feeling guilty for reasons he could not quite understand.
"How long do you want to keep going, Merlin?" asked Percival.
It was a legitimate question. There was no sign of Excalibur anywhere. The Crystal Cave was just that – a cave filled with crystals, plus the occasional swarm of beasts. Nothing so far pointed at the fact that there could be a legendary sword hidden within its depths.
"Ideally, until we hit the end," Merlin replied.
"We could be dead well before that," Arthur commented. He wasn't wrong.
"If we run out of water and provisions, or anybody gets seriously injured, we'll have to leave," Merlin clarified.
"Your father will be disappointed if you return empty-handed," Gwaine pointed out. It was the first time he had spoken to Merlin since having to relinquish his second sword, so it wasn't a surprise he was lashing out. Still, it hurt, having Gwaine lay his insecurities out into the open like that.
"I'm well aware of my father's impossible expectations," Merlin muttered. "Thank you."
Gwaine's face softened considerably at his words. "You can't find something that doesn't exist," he said. "What are you supposed to do, forge it yourself?"
Merlin smiled weakly at him. "Think we could pass off your other sword as Excalibur and call it a day?"
Gwaine rolled his eyes and Merlin knew they were going to be fine.
"Why does Balinor want you to retrieve the sword so badly anyway?" Arthur asked. He really had grown bolder in the past day, freely asking questions like all of this was his personal business.
But Merlin kind of had made it his business, hadn't he? He had drawn Arthur into this whole mess instead of treating him like a regular prisoner of war. It was only fair that he wanted to know why he was fighting skeletons and serkets in some gods-forsaken cave.
"There is a prophecy—" Merlin started, but was immediately stopped by Lancelot.
"Merlin, don't!"
Merlin glared at him. "Why not?"
"It's not meant for the ears of outsiders," Lancelot said tightly. "Especially not for the likes of him."
"It's my birth prophecy," Merlin retorted. "I can share it however I like."
"Birth prophecy?" Arthur repeated. He sounded both curious and confused.
"It's a sacred tradition of our people," Merlin explained, pointedly avoiding Lancelot's eyes as he talked. "Shortly before a dragonlord is born, the mother will use dragonfyre to get a glimpse of the future. After the birth, she will then reveal what she learned of the baby's destiny. Tales about what great battles they might fight or what kind of betrayal they might suffer."
Arthur nodded as if he had understood, but his words gave away his ignorance, "So? Who's going to break your heart?"
Merlin found himself smiling tiredly. If only his mother had spoken of some lovers' strife, it would have made his life so much less complicated. "My mother predicted my powers. The dragonfyre, I mean, and how I would wield it freely. That, and that I would bring peace to my people and end this war."
Realisation flickered over Arthur's face. "Oh. Is that why you're doing it? Trying to broker peace? Because your mother said it's your destiny?"
"Not only, but if I am destined to bring peace, why not try any way I can? There are worse goals out there."
"I reckon that's true," Arthur reluctantly agreed. "Still. None of this explains the sword."
Merlin let out a long breath and ran his hand through his hair. "No. There's another part to the prophecy. I am also supposed to be this mighty warrior."
"Right." It was clear Arthur was trying hard to suppress an unflattering reaction.
"Don't bother, I know it sounds ridiculous," Merlin muttered.
"Well, I haven't seen you with a sword, but you're good with the magic, nobody can deny that," Arthur offered and he seemed to be genuinely trying to be helpful when he added, "Perhaps your mother meant that part?"
"Maybe," Merlin said dubiously, "but my father doesn't see it that way. He believes I need to prove myself a proper fighter. And a legendary warrior needs a legendary sword."
"Of course," Arthur replied. "So he sent you here, to get Excalibur."
Merlin nodded and looked at his feet, suddenly feeling just a tad self-conscious. Perhaps Lancelot had been right and he shouldn't have shared this with Arthur, though he didn't know how the prince might use the information against them in the war. Arthur already knew the important bits about Merlin's magic and his desire for peace anyway. Besides, it was also Arthur's prophecy, of sorts. His birth had started the war, after all.
"It's funny," Arthur said suddenly, which made Merlin turn his head at him. "My own father also sent me on a quest to prove myself once."
"Oh?"
Arthur seemed to be waring with himself for a moment, but ended up elaborating, "He sent me to the Perilous Lands to retrieve a legendary king's fabled trident. To prove myself worthy to one day be King of Camelot. I don't think he really expected me to make it, it was more about teaching me a lesson. I sought out the abandoned castle mentioned in the legends. There were wyverns there, too, so all of this isn't new to me."
He chuckled at that and Merlin found himself smiling along. It was true – the quests were not so different. A father, a son, a fabled weapon and impossible expectations.
"Did you succeed?" Merlin asked.
Arthur looked at him, then suddenly glanced around, perhaps remembering that it wasn't just him and Merlin sharing a private moment, but that everybody was listening to their conversation. He abruptly straightened where he sat and when he replied, the glimpse of vulnerability that so naturally came when sharing something personal about yourself vanished, replaced by the airs of an arrogant prince.
"Obviously. What do you take me for? A failure?"
Merlin stared at him, then turned away and stood abruptly. "We need to get going. Eat up!"
