Battlefield. Dust was floating above the ground. All around were bodies of fallen knights and soldiers and in the air it could be felt the smell of blood. Among the dead, with head tilted to the side, was lying a former knight of Camelot, now wearing black. All the dirt and ash from the battle has fallen upon him. Beside him was sitting the white dragon. Its eyes were glistening with sadness. Dragon got its snout closer to the soldier and blew at him with a whooshing breath. The creature whined softly and placed its head on knights' stomach waiting for him to wake up.
Water was splashing softly as the boat was sailing across shrouded in mist lake. Arthur was sleeping peacefully still with his head on Merlin's lap. He was pale and cold and it seemed like he had just passed away, but by taking a closer look, his shallow breath was a sign that he was alive. Merlin was looking around in all directions to see in which way they're heading but the fog was too thick. He could barely see the end of the boat.
There was something mysterious in this place and the intact surface of the lake was only an illusion. From the depths of the water Merlin heard pathetic wailing that sounded like the young woman's crying. Her voice echoed in Merlin's ears as if there were many of them. It was disturbing and terrifying and Merlin didn't even dare to think what secrets lie beneath.
Merlin shivered at the chill gust of wind. He covered Arthur with his blanket and then held out his hands to get himself warm.
"Forbearnan," he whispered, but nothing happened. He looked concerned at his hands. "Forbearnan," still nothing.
He exhaled shakily and looked around realising how helpless he is without his magic. The wailing continued but Merlin had to keep himself together. He couldn't let himself be distracted despite growing fear as voices were getting louder. He grasped Arthur's cold hand and focused eyes on his face. At that time it was the only thing that made him think straight.
Eventually, the crying was getting quieter and the fog became thinner. Merlin saw the shoreline. He looked up at the high tower in the distance. So this is it. Avalon.
As they reached the shore, Merlin jumped out of the boat and tried to pull Arthur out. He placed him softly on the ground checking his vital signs. The tower wasn't that far but Arthur was too heavy to drag him there and Merlin couldn't do it other way without his powers. He glanced in the tower's direction and got startled by the people standing before him.
"Who… are…," he stuttered. "Are you…?" he could barely see who was standing in front of him because of the sun that just came out behind the clouds and blinded him.
The woman standing nearer chuckled. Behind her were two men wearing ivory white tunics and trousers.
"My name is Corelaine," she stepped closer to Merlin; "and they are my guards."
Sun's rays flooded her face as she walked over to him. She was wearing a dress with the same colour as the clothes of these two guards. Her long light blonde hair was braided in a loose braid, and her green eyes reflected warmth.
"My lady?" Merlin bowed slightly his head.
She smiled at him and also bowed. "You must be Emrys, the greatest sorcerer ever to walk the earth," she said and looked at Arthur; "and your king."
"He is my friend, he is dying…," Merlin said with a breaking voice. "I was told I would find the Sídhe here, that they would save him."
She gave him a slight smile. "We will take Arthur to the tower," seeing Merlin's either worried and frightened look, she spoke again. "There's no need to fear us. We mean you no harm."
Guards walked over to Arthur, laid him on a stretcher and headed with him to the tower.
"Come," Corelaine said to Merlin and followed the guards. He hesitated but walked after her.
They were going along the path, between apple trees, that led straight to the high building. As they passed through the entrance Merlin lost the guards and Arthur from his sight.
"This way," said the woman.
They walked into a great hall which looked like a sort of throne room, but instead of a throne there was a long table that sagged under the enormous amount of food.
"Mother," a male voice echoed around the room.
"Galahad," said Corelaine softly. "We have guests," she stepped aside revealing Merlin.
The tall man wearing knights' tunic glanced at the warlock. His light brown hair framed his face.
"We knew you'd come here," he said.
"Are you a seer, sir?" Merlin asked.
They chuckled. "It had been foretold that one day you'd come. The prophecy mostly concerned the coming of Arthur, but we are glad to have you here too, Emrys."
"Oh, just Merlin," said the young warlock with a smile that quickly faded. "Where did you take Arthur? I want to see him."
"You'll see him soon," said Corelaine. "Fairies has to make sure he is ready," she smiled. "Now come, sit with us. You must be hungry after such a long journey."
The woman and Galahad took their seats at the table. Merlin did the same and sat down across from them.
"I thought that Avalon belonged to the Sídhe," Merlin said and started eating.
"They're long gone," replied Corelaine. "Their lust for power led them to their fall. After the last Sídhe elder's death their whole race fled to the world under the lake. Now that is a place they belong."
"I heard something…," Merlin hesitated; "when we were on the boat. Voices coming from the depths of the water."
"Terrifying creatures they are," Galahad looked at Merlin. "They are intermediaries between Avalon and the Sídhe kingdom. You two were very lucky to pass through the lake, either way we would not speak."
Merlin swallowed the piece of food slowly, looking at Galahad.
"I couldn't use my magic," he said.
"You see," Corelaine spoke; "here, it doesn't matter having weapons or magical abilities. It's all about your heart. No greed, no lust for power and no desire for immortality," she looked Merlin in the eyes. "Only the man of good heart can make it to Avalon," she smiled at him.
A young girl walked into the room. "It's time," she said. "But we'll be needing the magic chalice."
Corelaine nodded. "Merlin, your king awaits," she made a gesture with her hand for them to follow and she walked after the girl.
They passed through a few corridors and a few staircases and then they stopped in front of the wooden door. Corelaine opened them slowly. Just as Merlin saw the king lying on the bed, he pushed his way between the people to get to him.
"Arthur," he said, gently putting his hand on the king's chest. His friend was still unconscious.
"Why isn't he waking?" Merlin asked with concern. Fear for his friend started growing in him again. He glanced at the people gathered in the room. Among them he recognised two men who carried here Arthur, the rest were three young girls, probably fairies that Corelaine talked about.
"Fragment of sword no longer threatens his life, but the wound it caused is severe," said one of the men. "He'd lost a lot of blood and he needs rest to recover."
"How long…?"
Another fairy walked into the room with a golden chalice in her hands. She handed it to Corelaine who walked over to Arthur.
"What's in there?" Merlin took a glimpse of a liquid contained in the cup.
"Potion of life," she replied and tilted the chalice, pouring the liquid into Arthur's mouth.
The man started coughing, he spit the blood and slowly opened his eyes. He felt different, as if he was a newborn. He didn't feel pain anymore so he looked at his body and the place where the wound should be. He touched it and with surprise found out that except a dried blood stain on chainmail, there was no trace of wound between the ribs. He took a look around and realised he's the only one that lived. The knight rolled on the ground to get himself on feet.
He walked through the field glancing at the fallen soldiers as if he was looking for someone. In the distance he saw an approaching vague figure of a human. All he could see was the dark robes the man was wearing. He stepped closer. The man was one of his own.
"Mordred," he said and stopped in front of him; "we thought you were dead."
"I could say so, but something happened."
"Indeed. The white dragon," the man paused for a beat. "The creature fled, there's no sign of it anywhere."
"But the dragon would never leave Morgana's side."
"Mordred… we found Morgana, dead."
Mordred was looking at the man's face with no emotion. He looked away and his eyes glittered.
"How and who?" he asked with both sadness and anger in his voice.
"She's been ran through with the sword. The blade was magical and fatal."
"Emrys…," Mordred whispered to himself and then looked up at the man. "And Arthur?"
"No trace."
"We must find them. They will pay for what they've done," Mordred said with a dark voice.
"I suggest…," the man started; "to take injured and return to Kent. The battle is over."
Mordred took a step forward to him. "But I won't rest until Arthur is dead."
"You will do as I say," he said with a warning tone. "And don't forget who I am. Maybe Morgana was strong and she was a high priestess, but I am the king's son and you are nothing more than a knight."
"I'm more than that, Vortimer," he said, hurt.
"Then don't be reckless," Vortimer looked at him. "Patience is a virtue and you will soon have your revenge. We have to make a good plan and be prepared," he smirked. "Yet we shall see Camelot fall."