Chapter Six: Going Back to Die
Merlin recoiled. The hydra. The blasted, bloody hydra. The thing that had slaughtered two of his last remaining best friends. Anguish washed over him; he hadn't known the knights were going, not until after they'd been gone three days. He'd yelled at Gwen for not telling him and gone after them as fast as he could, but he'd been too late. He could still remember the crunch of Leon hitting a huge rock, Percival already dead as he arrived, fire in his hands and a shielding spell on his lips. So great had been his fury that the hydra's ashes had been scattered to the four winds by the time he was done. Then he'd wept over his friends' broken bodies, screaming curses and damning Kilgharrah for lying to him so completely about 'Albion'.
That had been the day he'd given up on the prophecies – even after Arthur's death, he'd clung to the dragon's promises. But that day… He'd known then that Albion was nothing but a lie. A convenient hook for the Great Dragon to use against the boy he'd been, to shape him and mold him much as he'd shaped and molded Arthur. Morgana. Mordred. Even the knights.
Later, he'd gone back to believing in the prophecies, but mostly because he'd had nothing left. Everyone he'd ever loved was gone and he himself was immortal. What else was there for an ancient relic living far past his days? For anyone who asked, he still believed, with every fiber of his being, that Arthur would return one day. But privately, no, he didn't believe and hadn't for a very long time. Because even if Arthur returned, it had never been just Arthur. It had been Gwen and Gaius and every last one of the knights. Without them, having Arthur back meant nothing.
And now… Merlin felt himself start to shake. To save his new friends, he had to damn the old. Sentence them to certain death by sending them back to the hydra. Fate and Destiny had asked so much of him already, how could they ask this of him? How could they demand that he murder his best friends?
But how could he forsake the new? Merlin was no fool; Callaghan and Lane would only be the beginning. With each new ripple, the world he knew, the friendships he'd forged, they would alter, leaving nothing of the history he remembered. And he would remember, just as there was a part of him who remembered the timeline Team One had thoroughly, utterly destroyed in their bid to halt World War III. Already, another part of him knew what the new history would hold.
An arrogant Wild Mage Auror, sent in to manage a fledgling effort to merge the worlds. A casually cruel dictator who used his innate knowledge and understanding of human nature to manipulate the 'Muggles' into believing he cared for them. A half-blood wizard, seething under his Wild Mage superior and working to undermine the Muggles at every turn, perfectly willing to make himself look bad if that meant making the others look even worse. And a group of Muggles, at first oblivious and then resentful of the situation they'd been forced into. The beginnings of a modern day Purge, orchestrated by the very same individuals who'd prevented it in this timeline. For where there was potential to build, to create, there was also the potential to demolish and destroy.
If he saved Leon and Percival, he would kill Team One. He would kill everything they'd fought for, that he had fought for. Magic would die, leaving only the immortal Emrys standing. But if he saved Team One, he would destroy himself. The guilt for murdering his best friends would crush him, ripping him apart and leaving naught but a shell of a man. Not even the knowledge that he'd saved all of history, all of the magical world, would diminish his guilt. For what was he without Camelot? What was he if he betrayed his King and his kingdom?
The temporal pulse attempted, once more, to ripple outwards, drawing pained yelps from the officers, their friends catching them before they could collapse. Merlin let gold blaze in his eyes as he threw his hands out sideways, catching the ripple with his command over Time. The ripple fought him, struggling and straining against his refusal to let it eliminate his reality. Another surge of magic flexed in the air; Parker attempting to anchor Callaghan and Lane with what little magic he possessed, but such an effort was futile at best. Wild Magic could not affect Time, not as Merlin's magic could. Even if Parker could succeed, he wasn't immune to the temporal changes. As soon as his new history took effect, he wouldn't be the empathic Wild Mage Squib-born, nor the experienced negotiator and police Sergeant any more. In his new persona, he wouldn't remember his former teammates. Why cling to those he didn't know and who possessed not a scrap of magic?
The warlock's eyes glowed even brighter as the temporal pulse fought harder against his hold. Refusing to relent, refusing to dissipate; the magic pressed ever harder against Emrys, demanding he release it. Snarling outrage at his refusal to permit its passage. Softly, with an intensity none of his friends, old or new, had ever heard before, he whispered, "You cannot have my friends."
"Thou canst not endure forever, Emrys."
The speaker materialized just beyond Team One, glowing with an unearthly power. Light surrounded the woman's form, so bright that the humans shielded their eyes automatically. After a moment, the glow dimmed; long braided white hair framed a face that looked human, but was so perfect that it couldn't be. The features were perfectly symmetrical, the very ideal of what a human female should be, save for her slightly pointed ears. Pouty lips curved up in a secretive smile, their ruby hue obscured by the light blue glow around her.
"Who are you?" Merlin hissed, his magic prickling. He'd felt magic like hers once. Near the bodies of two of his best friends.
The smile grew, the stranger dipping her head in a formal half-bow. "In the tongue of Men, I am Luthien." She gestured, the blue around slim fingers intensifying. The temporal pulse dissipated, leaving Merlin panting and wary.
The warlock stiffened. "You brought them here," he accused.
Sorrow flashed in her silver eyes. "As I hath been commanded, so hath I done," she acknowledged.
Commanded? "Who commanded this?" Merlin pressed, eyes turning gold once more.
"My people follow the Lion," Luthien replied, tossing her head. "The Dark One ever strives for the downfall of the World of Men, scorning the Lion and His Father. War is at hand, young warlock, and even thy great power wilt not prevail. Not if thou wishes the dawn of Albion."
Chills ran up Merlin's back. "Albion is a lie," he spat.
To his surprise, Luthien laughed, a light, twinkling laugh that seemed to fill the room with joy and the innocent playfulness of a child. "Albion is no lie, young warlock," she countered. "But the old dragon used thee, Emrys, to secure his own aims, and oft led thee astray." Sorrow gleamed once more. "The Dark One's prophecies are oft self-fulling." Shaking her head, she remarked, "Albion is the dream of many, an ideal to be sought, even if it canst not be obtained."
"And you're not using us?" Wordsworth snapped, indignation smoldering. "If you brought the knights here, you must have known it would change Time."
Luthien ignored Wordsworth and cocked her head to the side, studying Leon. He met her gaze steadily and without the automatic revulsion that would have been present only hours before. "The lesson is learned," she mused. "And shalt not be forgotten again." Silver brightened, the light around her beginning to pulse. "It is well done."
Before Merlin could stop her, she lifted her hands, gesturing to his friends. Blue swarmed the knights and they vanished, the woman vanishing as well.
Leon reached for his sword as the hydra, far too close, snatched Percival off the ground, an ugly crunch sealing the big knight's fate. Another head rammed him sideways and he was lifted off his feet, flying backwards at a huge rock.
He struck; the world turned black.
Luthien lowered her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. "It is well done," she whispered, "Though I shalt grieve for thee a thousand years and more."
Blue light surrounded her slim frame and she vanished, the anguished cry of the young warlock ringing in her ears.
An instant later, the woman reappeared, without the knights, tears streaming down her face.
"What have you done?" Merlin raged, golden fire leaping around him; Team One wisely split and dove out of the way, leaving only the two potential combatants standing.
"A thousand years and more hath I grieved this moment," Luthien replied, her voice steady. "Heed my words, Emrys. Camelot rises, young warlock; the Dragons of Old return, but beware the White Dragon. Her loyalty remains with the Witch and neither wilt turn aside from the Dark One's path. Thou canst not prevail against them alone. Allies aplenty thee possesses, but thou must seek more. Seek ye the son of the White Dragon, seek ye the guardians of Old, those that guard the Heart of Magic."
Silver glowed, the light around Luthien growing as she spoke. "Summon ye the Traitors who remain faithful to their King. Summon ye the Sons of Magic, allied to the Last of Narnia." A faint smile emerged. "The High King will ride once more, leading Narnia to war and calling even the Stars to take heed of the doings of Men."
"Why did you kill them?" Merlin roared. "Answer me!"
"The Days of Men are written in the Book of Life, Emrys, and even thine must come to an End." Luthien's chin rose. "The Dark One demanded that the Court of Camelot walk once more amongst the Living."
Pressed against one of the blue poly-carbon panels, Parker stiffened, recognition and memory sparking in hazel orbs.
"The Emperor permitted such, for it twas written in His Book from the dawn of Time." The woman met Merlin's eyes, her silver capturing his blue. "Do not grieve, Emrys. Keep watch, for thy vigil draws near its end."
So saying, Luthien bowed, her light growing so bright that the humans were forced to turn away. When they could look again, she was gone.
Author note: Please pray for me. I have an interview with a recruiter in a couple of hours and I think I nearly went from the frying pan into the fire last night. Let's just say I was being offered a job on the spot, but it was so hasty and shady that my parents and I were seeing red flags going up by the millisecond.
Plus the guy couldn't type in proper English grammar, misspelled my name right off the bat (even though this was LinkedIn and he could see my name), and asked me if I was a Green Card Holder even though it should be dead obvious that I'm an American citizen. And he seemed to want my decision on the spot, even though I was on the phone with him and had to hang up because my job was calling. I mean, bad first impression, yet he wants to steam-roll right ahead? Hello, red flags.