"Curse of Euryale"

The knights moved cautiously through the woods, searching for signs of their quarry without alerting her to their presence. There had been reports of a sorceress seen in the woods, and people from nearby villages had gone missing. And so Arthur and his most trusted knights had set out to hunt her down.

They had not spotted her, though. Perhaps she was aware they were scouring the woods and had gone into hiding. The knights were spaced out a few paces to cover more ground but still remain within sight of each other. Lancelot stuck close to Merlin in case he "wandered off" and found the sorceress. He was the best suited out of all of them to battle one, though no one else knew it. Even so, Lancelot wanted to provide backup for his friend should he need it.

A whistle went up through the trees. Lancelot and Merlin shared a look before turning toward it. Arthur had found a cave and was standing at the mouth of it. There were old tracks in the dirt leading inside. Arthur quietly removed his sword from its scabbard and cocked his head for them to make entry.

The cave was a long, darkening tunnel, with an eerie green glow emanating from quartz refracting what little light filtered in from outside. Lancelot spotted the silhouette of someone standing up ahead and tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword. But the figure didn't move as they approached, not even to turn their gaze toward the intruders. As the sunlight faded, the green glow increased, and the knights exchanged uncertain glances as they realized the figure was just a lifelike sculpture. The scream petrified in stone gave a foreboding vibe.

The knights pressed on. Torch light started to flicker up ahead where the shaft opened up into a larger cavern. They passed two more statues similar to the first—peasants carved in granite with empty eyes and soundless screams.

"You don't think…" Lancelot murmured.

"They're the missing villagers?" Merlin whispered back, his mouth pressing into a thin line. "Yeah."

They reached the end of the tunnel and stepped into the wider cavern. There were statues everywhere, all of men and women and even children, frozen in poses of fright. It was the witch's lair all right, filled with all manner of other things a cave hermit would have. The woman, however, didn't look of this world. Her pale skin had a light green hue to it, and her eyes were solid black, framed in a tangle of black, brown, and green dreadlocks. She hissed at them.

Arthur raised his sword and started the charge. Lancelot and the other knights followed, only to skid to a stunned stop when the witch's hair began to stand up and slither off her head. They morphed into snakes that spilled across the ground and came right at the knights, who then had to defend themselves against the creatures. They swung their blades downward, decapitating serpents left and right. The witch screamed in rage and more just swarmed toward them in a tidal wave.

Lancelot caught a glimpse of Merlin crouched in the back and his eyes flashing gold. One of the torch lamps fell over and the flames surged out over some of the snakes, devouring them whole. Still, the knights were being forced backward as they hacked frantically at the charging creatures. Lancelot sliced through a whole row of snakes as he backpedaled until his back hit the wall. With another swing, he hewed the last two coming at him in half. But then a hiss far too close for comfort reached his ears. He snapped his gaze down in search of it, but the serpent was able to strike first, having crawled up over a boulder to reach him. The snake lashed out, its fangs catching Lancelot's wrist and piercing down to the bone. He cried out, his hand spasming and his sword dropping to the cave floor with a clatter. The snake released him and he staggered away from it, but it didn't follow. Instead, it turned to go after someone else.

"Elyan, behind you!" Lancelot shouted.

The other knight spun around and quickly beheaded that snake before it could bite him.

Arthur launched himself over squirming bodies as stray bursts of fire kept lashing out like frog tongues to snatch up their prey. None of the knights noticed it was Merlin.

The witch's expression flashed dangerously as Arthur charged her, and her hair was still writhing with unleashed serpents. Gritting his teeth, Lancelot drew his knife with his wounded hand and arched his arm back to throw. The blade sailed through the air and struck the witch in the shoulder, distracting her long enough for Arthur to close the distance and run her through with his sword. She let out a dying gasp before falling limp, and all the snakes in the cave abruptly disintegrated with her death.

There was the curtain of silence post battle then, as everyone paused to catch their breath. Lancelot bent down to pick up his sword, wincing when his wrist twinged. He grabbed the hilt with his left hand instead.

"Everyone all right?" Leon asked.

There was a round of nods. Lancelot raised his arm to look at the bite he'd sustained. The two punctures were deep with red pinpricks at the bottom and purple bruising around the fang marks.

"Were you bitten?" Merlin exclaimed, rushing over and taking hold of his wrist to see for himself.

"Yeah, but it doesn't hurt as bad as it should." He'd heard tales of people dying horrible deaths from adder venom.

Merlin still looked worried. "We need to get you back to Gaius."

They left the cave the way it was. Arthur would probably send a troop back later to seal it, and they made a hastened pace back to Camelot. Lancelot wasn't feeling ill or feverish, so maybe after the witch was killed, any curse that might be in her snakes' bite died with her.

It was starting to hurt like hell, though.

They made it home and Arthur accompanied Lancelot and Merlin to Gaius's chambers. When Lancelot took a seat and Gaius lifted his arm to examine it, he was surprised to find that the area around the bite had turned a solid gray.

"That's not necrotized, is it?" Lancelot asked fearfully.

Gaius's brow was furrowed as he studied the area and gingerly touched it. Lancelot winced.

"Do you still have feeling there?" the physician asked.

"Yes."

"What about here?"

Gaius touched closer to the wounds, and Lancelot's chest tightened. He shook his head; he couldn't feel anything there.

"Will I lose my hand?" he choked out.

"Let me finish," Gaius said, then looked at Arthur and Merlin. "Tell me everything."

Gaius continued his examination as Merlin relayed what had happened.

"I don't feel sick," Lancelot said once Merlin had concluded with the worry of venom.

"We can't say what effect the bite from a magical snake will have," Gaius said neutrally. "But the tissue isn't necrotized. It's…hardening. Almost like…"

"Stone," Merlin put in, voice laced with horror. "Gaius, the statues we found…they looked like the missing villagers."

Gaius peered at Lancelot's wrist more closely. "That is entirely possible."

Lancelot finally yanked his arm back in growing horror and hesitantly ran his finger over the spot. His skin there was rough and porous, just like rock. "Will…will it progress?"

Gaius and Merlin exchanged a subtle look. "If the curse operates the same as venom, then…yes, it could spread."

"Can you reverse it?" Arthur asked.

"You said all the snakes disintegrated when you killed the witch. Without a sample of the venom, making an antidote is impossible. But I can attempt to find a counter curse," he added.

Arthur's expression pinched with worry. "Will you be able to help the other people turned to stone?"

"I'm not sure," Gaius replied, not looking optimistic about it. "But I'll see what I can find."

Arthur eventually pulled himself away and left Gaius and Merlin to their research. Lancelot lingered for a little while but then finally retreated to his room so he could change out of his armor. His fingers were stiff by then and he struggled to unbuckle his gear. Once he'd changed, he thought about going back down to Gaius's chambers to wait for news, but the wait would probably drive him crazy.

Not that he wasn't already spiraling with dread and worry, but at least up here in private no one would see it.

When a knock sounded at his door, he eagerly went to open it, hoping it was Merlin. It wasn't.

"I heard what happened," Gwen said. "Are you all right?"

Lancelot quickly turned away from her. "I'm fine. You shouldn't be here."

"You're my friend," Gwen protested with a tinge of hurt in her voice. "Lancelot…" She touched his shoulder and gently turned him back around to face her. "Please don't shut me out."

His heart twinged; he never could deny her anything. Slowly, he lifted his arm and rolled the edge of his sleeve up, revealing the ghastly gray skin underneath. Gwen cupped his wrist and traced a finger over the hardened flesh, her brows pinching with distress.

"Gaius and Merlin are looking for a cure," he said in a subdued voice.

She nodded. "In the meantime, you need to keep your strength up. Why don't I come back with some food?"

He wasn't really hungry, but again, he couldn't deny her. So his silence was his capitulation, and Gwen left to scrounge up some food. When she returned, Leon was with her.

"I wanted to check on you," the First Knight said.

"I'm not a statue yet," Lancelot replied, though the attempt at humor fell flat. He could feel the effects of the venom spreading up his arm, stiffening the muscles first and making his skin itch, then solidifying and becoming heavier.

Gwen set the tray of food on the table. "Come on, you should eat something."

He went over and reached for the pitcher of water since he was thirsty, only to stop when he couldn't bend his fingers to grasp the handle. His entire hand was pewter gray and solid, and the sight sent a jolt of panic through his heart.

Gwen and Leon were also staring in horror, but then they shook themselves out of it.

"Let me," Gwen said, hurrying to pour him a cup and holding it out toward his left hand.

Lancelot took it grimly and tried to take a long, slow, sip to hide his mounting fear behind. This was a terrifying, drawn out way to die.

Leon stayed, which Lancelot was secretly grateful for. It made it a little less awkward for Gwen to be there, since she didn't seem keen on leaving anytime soon. But if Gaius and Merlin didn't find something in time, Lancelot didn't want her to watch him eventually turn to stone.


Merlin knew it could take too long to scour Gaius's books for a cure, so the first chance he got, he went out and summoned Kilgharrah to ask for his help.

"I know of this witch," the Great Dragon said after Merlin had explained the situation. "She came from a land far away."

"Is there any way to save Lancelot?" he asked desperately.

"Yes, but you need to mix up an antidote with a special moss that only grows in the dangerous swampland. And you must hurry; once the venom turns Sir Lancelot's heart to stone, his life will be lost forever."

Merlin swallowed hard. "So the people who've already been turned into statues, there's no way to save them?"

"I'm afraid not, young warlock."

Merlin's jaw tightened. "All right. What do I need to do?"

After getting the instructions and directions from Kilgharrah, Merlin hurried back to the castle to tell Gaius. From there, they informed Arthur and pretended they'd found the information in one of Gaius's old books.

"I can mix up the first part of the antidote," Gaius went on. "And Merlin can add the moss as soon as you find it."

"Which means I need to go with you," Lancelot spoke up.

Arthur looked hesitant at that. Lancelot's condition was obviously worsening, which could hamper their need for haste. Yet at the same time it also emphasized it, since the time it would take them to get back could also make them too late to give him the antidote.

The entire debate was shared with silent looks, and Arthur nodded his agreement. The sooner Lancelot got the cure, the better.


While Lancelot hadn't wanted to stay behind and simply wait for his friends to return, he was admittedly struggling to keep up. The weight of his arm, now solid stone, was difficult to bear. His right side was getting stiff too, making each step a laborious effort. He pushed himself, though, so as not to be a hindrance as they'd feared when they'd set off.

Percival stuck close to him, frequently reaching out a hand to briefly support him when he stumbled or correct his course when he listed toward the right. No one spoke. There was a death sentence hanging over Lancelot's head and no one wanted to acknowledge it.

They reached the edge of the swampland, but their journey wasn't yet over; the special moss was supposed to grow only in the very center. Traversing the softer, spongy terrain was even more difficult for Lancelot to maintain his balance.

Gwaine's foot suddenly went through a lump of peat moss into standing water with a splash. He lifted his soggy boot out with a disgusted grimace and gave it a shake.

Percival edged his way in front of Lancelot. "Follow where I step," he said.

Lancelot nodded mutely. He was feeling heavier by the minute, and was the air getting close in here?

A burst of orange flame suddenly exploded up from the ground, freezing everyone in their tracks. The fire sputtered out after a moment, and then they waited for several long beats, but it didn't happen again.

"Watch your step," Arthur called.

Lancelot gritted his teeth and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. The deeper they went, the more sulfuric eruptions punctuated their trek. The knights kept stepping through soggy mulch and getting boots full of bog water, though Percival made sure to carve a path for Lancelot to follow so he didn't struggle with the same.

It was getting harder and harder for him to breathe, though, as though his chest simply couldn't expand enough. He finally jolted to a pained stop and slumped his stone shoulder against a tree trunk.

"I can't…keep…going," he wheezed.

Merlin hurried back toward him and immediately reached for his chainmail shirt to roll it up. Lancelot saw in his widening eyes how bad it was, though craning his neck down to look for himself was painful. His chest was gray and the coarse texture of granite had coated his entire right side.

"The petrification is almost over his heart," Merlin said to the others. "We're almost out of time."

"Percival, Elyan, stay with Lancelot," Arthur ordered. "The rest of us will find the moss and hurry back."

Merlin let Lancelot's chainmail drop back down. "Hold on," he pleaded.

Lancelot managed to give a clipped nod.

Merlin turned and hurried off with Arthur, Leon, and Gwaine deeper into the swamp.

"H-help me…down," Lancelot fought to get out between struggling breaths.

Percival and Elyan grabbed his arms and helped lower him to sit on the peat moss at the base of the tree. He reached a fumbling hand up and across his chest, feeling the rigidity. One lung had to be almost solid now, which was why he couldn't get enough air.

His fought-for breaths hitched with mounting panic. He was going to suffocate and turn to stone before Merlin got back with the cure. And then Merlin would blame himself and Lancelot couldn't bear the thought of that.

Elyan knelt on one knee in front of him. "Lancelot, look at me. I know it's hard, but you have to slow your breathing."

He started to shake his head frantically, but his neck hurt to move.

Elyan clasped is still warm left hand. "Look at me," he repeated. "Breathe with me."

Elyan deliberately took slow, shallow breaths, and Lancelot tried to follow along, even as the cold stone death inched ever closer to his heart.


Merlin and the others sprinted through the marsh, no longer taking care to avoid splashing through loose peat into standing water, narrowly avoiding bursts of sulfuric flames in their haste. Merlin's heart pounded against his rib cage with fear they'd be too late.

"Merlin!" Leon shouted up ahead. "Is this it?"

Merlin quickened his pace to reach the knight and looked down at the emerald green moss growing in the center of a peat mound. He immediately dropped down and yanked out a fistful from their roots. He then pulled the vial Gaius had pre-mixed from his coat pocket and added the flora. The moss instantly began to dissolve, turning the solution a brilliant green.

"That's it, right?" Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded and jumped to his feet, and they rushed back the way they'd come. Merlin tripped and nearly dropped the antidote, but Arthur grabbed his arm and hauled him forward, and he corrected his balance in time. Silent prayers that they weren't too late and that Kilgharrah's information was right spilled from his lips as they ran.

When they reached the spot they'd left the others, Lancelot was on the ground against the tree, eyelids struggling to stay open as Elyan coaxed him into each dreadfully shallow breath that clearly wasn't enough. His lips were blue, which was just as terrifying as the gray creeping up the whole right side of his face.

Merlin scrambled forward and uncapped the vial, then unceremoniously poured it into Lancelot's mouth. "Swallow, swallow," he pleaded, hoping Lancelot still had enough muscular control to get the antidote down.

Lancelot's throat moved slowly as he fought to swallow, coughing as the liquid struggled to go down. Merlin poured more into his mouth. Lancelot coughed and sputtered, but then he swallowed again, and the motion looked easier. Gradually, the gray skin on his face faded to pink, and he sucked in a massive, ragged breath, his whole body arching up off the ground.

Merlin rocked back on his haunches as Lancelot continued to suck in desperate lungfuls of oxygen and the right side of his body trembled and jerked. In a matter of moments, he fell still and bonelessly limp, chest still heaving. Merlin picked up his hand, relieved to find lax, warm fingers. He rolled up Lancelot's sleeve to inspect the bite. The puncture holes were still there, but all signs of the gray, porous skin were gone.

"It worked," he exhaled.

The rest of the knights all let out relieved smiles. Lancelot was still out of it as his body adjusted to breathing normally again. Merlin reached out to clasp the side of his neck.

"Hey, you okay?"

Lancelot's throat bobbed and he lolled his gaze to Merlin's. He nodded shakily. "I think so. I'm not stone, am I?"

Merlin grinned. "Nope. Full flesh and blood again."

Lancelot closed his eyes and thunked his head back against the tree trunk. "Thank you."

The knights stood around silently, giving Lancelot time to gather himself. When he opened his eyes again and started to move, Merlin and Percival helped him to stand.

"You good to head home?" Arthur asked.

Lancelot nodded.

Arthur clasped his forearm and smiled, followed by the other knights moving in for hugs and hearty claps on the back. Merlin couldn't stop grinning.

"These close calls of yours are going to start giving me gray hairs," he whispered to Lancelot as they started the journey back to Camelot.

Lancelot grimaced.

"Poor choice of words maybe," Merlin amended.

Lancelot smirked. "Thank you, Merlin."

Merlin grinned. "Always."