Children were laughing. Dancing. Running happily upon the cobblestones of the courtyard. Sparkles danced in their hands, and butterflies followed their paths. Flowers of vibrant colors woven into their hair like garlands in spring time.
They looked happy.
They wouldn't have dared to step into the citadel five years before.
They wouldn't have dared to use their talents six months before.
Arthur wished he could reflect their happiness, although he himself felt like he had nothing to be happy about.
They arrived at noon.
Nobody knew how they escaped the scouts' notice, but one moment they were at the outer wall and the next- in the citadel.
They could either turn invisible, or they could teleport.
Either way, Camelot was doomed.
He hurried from the training grounds, hastily removing his armour -ignoring George's disapproving frown- once he saw Guinevere, his darling wife, standing at the top of the stairs that lead to the castle. There was a furrow in her brow that never seemed to disappear these days.
Worry curdled in his stomach like spoiled milk, his heart racing as he prepared himself for his worst fears.
'Don't loose hope Arthur,' a voice that sounded so familiar echoed in his ears. Arthur smiled bitterly to himself. There was nothing else left for him to loose.
They were not human. (They looked dead, like carcasses brought back to life, with rotten skin and overwhelming stench)
Anyone who gazed upon those monstrous creatures knew that they were never mortals.
Steel did nothing other than to temporary annoy them, and those who met their wrath could only convulse with silent screams.
It was a nightmare in broad daylight.
They were magic.
Arthur didn't know what he could do.
But he will not back down. He had killed Dragons, fought witches, immortal armies. These creatures won't be his end.
People in Camelot will live to see another day.
Even if he won't be there to see it.
He charged into the battle.
Footsteps echoed in the hallways, as servants hurried to the sides to make way for the King and Queen.
The corridor lead to the royal wing of the castle, and they all knew what they would find at the end of the hallway.
A golden shield erupted in front of him, his soldiers, his castle, the reflecting sunlight making it glow in an ethereal beauty.
It was Magic.
It felt like a cool bath in Summer, the taste of freshly baked custard tarts, the smell of lavender in Guinevere's hair, the sound of Merlin's laughter. It felt like nothing and everything all at once.
When Arthur raised his eyes beyond the shield, his breath caught in his throat.
Dread pooled in his gut.
"It didn't work, sire" the Physician said, but Arthur wasn't listening to him.
His eyes fell upon the lithe figure laying on the bed, pale and sickly.
The monsters found their only target, a dark haired lanky man, and Arthur could only watch helplessly and scream until his throat felt raw.
One by one, they sank their teeth into his skin, and one by one they were blasted into dust by lighting summoned in broad daylight.
When the battle ended, the golden barrier shimmered an disappeared into nothingness.
The lanky man too, fell upon the cobblestones, his body writhing in silent agony.
Children were laughing. Dancing. Running happily upon the cobblestones of the courtyard. Sparkles danced in their hands, and butterflies followed their paths. Flowers of vibrant colors woven into their hair like garlands in spring time.
A small melancholy smile tugged at his lips, remembering the old days, remembering the trouble both him and; -remembering.
His eyes fell upon the figure on the bed, pale and lanky whose eyes moving beneath his closed eyelids.
Arthur's heart ached.
He laced his his fingers through the dark hair to gain himself a sense of comfort.
"Wish you could see it, Merlin" The King said and waited for a quick rebuttal that never came.
The warlock stayed silent, trapped in a slumber, a nightmare he could never wake.
An extension of a drabble I wrote for Land of Myth writing challenge. For N16.
