Good morning and happy Sunday! Today I bring a new chapter. I really love this chapter. Is really... I don't know how to explain it. You'll see.

This one won't be Morgana's perspective but Merlin's perspective. I know I said in the previous chapter this one will be Morgana's chapter, but I have changed my mind. I think this is really important to put before Morgana's chapter, that will be the following chapter. You will see it.

I hope you like it.

I'm not own from Merlin.

Merlin took the stone of fire and the locket, leaving Hilda alone with the only company of green silk with its golden filaments where the yellowish envelope and the black leather notebook still lay. Before he could even pass through the door frame, Hilda called on him, stopping him in the doorjamb.

"You haven't even opened the envelope."

Merlin turned and stared at the yellowish envelope, where, from there, he could see the thin, narrow red writing in which it was read: for Emrys. Merlin sighed. He didn't know why, but he didn't feel like he had to open it. It was a strange feeling that it would never have occurred to him that would happen. In a normal situation, he would have opened it desperately and with a tremendous eagerness, but this time he knew it wasn't like that.

Merlin refused to look at Hilda.

"It's not the time," he simply said. Those words came straight out of his mouth, without thinking about them as if someone had magically forced him to say that.

Hilda nodded slightly, knowing that it was not worth discussing such a subject.

And so, Merlin ran out of the room, with stone and locket, going where he knew he had to go. And he wouldn't go alone, he knew it: the stone told him the way. It told him exactly where to go, and he could appreciate that behind the jacket pocket a dimmed red glow rang out, and every time he got closer to get out of Hilda's house, the brighter it gave.

Merlin literally ran through the streets of bitter, smileless people, who seemed to do a methodical and typical job every morning. No one inadvertently reproached him when he hit someone, or as he passed through the crowd pushing them on the main street where gadgets were sold in the shops.

And so, finally, he reached the bottom of the village, where black stones (too dark to be normal) lay shattered, where apparently before there had been a temple of the so-called Wodrem, as Hilda had told them. The columns that would have previously been part of the temple were still arranged, just as in the background you could see a kind of throne of the same color and material as the whole structure. Moreover, pieces of black rock were scattered around, some much larger than others. He could even still appreciate some of what had once been the basic structure of the temple, along with some half-destroyed walls.

He didn't expect to find anything for that rubble, but he still decided to do some research, in case he found the symbol of the dragon-snake he had in his locket, and as Hilda said that could be hidden there. But there was no luck. The only minimally curious thing was to find in the columns a writing, or rather runes, which were really similar to the writing of the black leather notebook. Unfortunately, he didn't have the notebook in hand to confirm that they were the same deeds.

He was also able to observe that on some walls that were still partially supported by an unknown force, perhaps the force called luck, were brushed drawings that until Merlin was not a few seconds carefully scrutinizing them he could not decipher that these were beasts and terrifying monsters, but when he moved to another wall on the opposite side, he put up with a squeal, for what he had brushed there was neither more nor a less than macabre drawings, many of them with beasts engulfing people, fathomless holes where people were thrown, flames of fire consuming helpless people, and even the devil himself in a cave of fire. Merlin swallowed. He shouldn't be seeing this. He turned quickly so as not to have to contemplate that bleak funebrity.

Merlin decided it was time to go when a magical sound sounded slightly from the red stone that he wore in his jacket pocket. He caught it and could see it shining brighter, but this time not continuously, but tinkling. There was something that had to do with that stone with the temple, or rather with the Wodrem. Those born of fire and darkness.

Merlin swallowed again. This didn't have to be happening. Who was that figure who had given Hilda years ago the gift that was to be given to Emrys, to him? What if Hilda lied and really knew who that figure was? What if her sole purpose was to end him so that Albion would never be born? Merlin noticed that he was getting dizzy, and he didn't want to faint this time, much less in this dark place.

It was when the sound of the stone grew louder that he realized that he had been advancing backward, unconsciously reaching the black stone throne. He turned and, yes, unfortunately there he was. And the stone gleamed and squealed much more than before. Would it be the throne? What was on the throne that made the stone behave like this?

And he saw it: the symbol carved into the back of the throne was nothing more or less than a snake body and a dragon's head. The same symbol as the locket. That's where it came from. And why did Balinor have it around his neck, then? Merlin noticed a puncture on his head and could see that everything became blurry and nothing seemed to make sense. Life didn't make sense. What did he live for? What was the goal? His goal was to be king, said a voice in his head that had a strange similarity to Uther's when he executed a supposed sorcerer.

Merlin shook his head. He looked at what was happening and saw that his hand was elongated towards the throne, and not only that, but he felt an incalculable desire to sit on it and feel the magic of being king. Merlin tried to back off, but he couldn't. He didn't know why. There was something that tended to keep him from moving. Like very dark magic.

And when he heard an even louder sound on the stone, he looked down at him and could see the words inscribed as blood on his skin:

"Be king."

Merlin noticed an impulse too big to make it his own. An impulse that told him to sit on that throne full of grime, dirt, and blackness to rule. To be king. To be Emrys, the most powerful wizard on earth. He's magic in person. He must sit on the throne and be king.

And so, Merlin sat on the throne with his eyes closed and with a smile never seen on him, satisfying, but malicious, and since then he remembered nothing else.

He opened his eyes and instead of seeing the beautiful blue eyes, a red glow gleamed in them with a rogue and malicious smile as an escort.

It was his time.

Oh oh. What does it mean "it was his time"? You will know tomorrow hopefully, or in two days. With a Morgana's chapter. This is going darker, I think, and much active and mysterious. What do you think? You can tell me in the comments.

I really hope you liked it.

Thank you very much to all the people who are seeing the story.

Next Chapter: Morgana's perspective. Where is Merlin going? The depths of the Cursed Town. (This time yes)

LegolasHV