This chapter it's filled with feelings, good and bad and heavy feelings so let me know if I maybe over did it. (Probably did? Well, just let me know!) You know I always love to read you guys! I don't think I stress this enough, but I truthfully love reading your reviews. I LOVE IT AND I LOVE YOU FOR EVERY SINGLE ONE.

CHAPTER 39

Twisted Destines ll

Arya was giving them her back when the sorcerer and the prince entered the tent. The air was still tense but now the fear was replaced with thick uncertainty. Arthur took notice of the empty tent; that meant several things. The most important one was that Arya was not going to discuss whatever was going on with them. Therefore she didn't need witnesses or advisers.

A decision was taken.

Arthur's eyes strayed to the vase that was annoyingly shining as bright and gold as ever on one side of the table, unaware of how many lives, wars and right now, prophecies it was toying with. The high priestess turned, closing her book with a snap before motioning for them to seat.

Arthur didn't move, though, his face hardening, he had been a leader for enough time to know they weren't here to discuss anything.

"Did you talk to Iseldir? Have you taken a decision?" Merlin asked as he walked towards the table, however, noticing the rigid posture of Arthur at his back he chose to not sit. Arya mirrored the action.

"I'm afraid my decision was taken hours ago, Emrys, all I needed was time to think about the proposition I'm about to make," Arya said slowly,

Merlin looked over his shoulder to Arthur, who was eerily calm, that was bad news in and by itself, before turning back to Arya. "Proposition? About Uther?"

Arya glanced at the vase, a troubled look on her face for the flicker of a second before it disappeared, going on as if Merlin hadn't spoken. "I talked with the other Tensais in the camp, there are no secrets among us druids so I only saw fit that they knew about the recent events. Most of them want justice for what happened to Mordred, others feel insulted that you lied to us despite the reasons, in any case, we agreed to make a commitment with you, a deal, so to speak, seeing the circumstances,"

At this, she threw a look at Merlin, whose shoulders dropped low.

"I—It's understandable."

"A punishment?" Arthur asked cautiously.

Arya scoffed softly as she placed her hands on the table, "Punishment? We druids don't punish people, Arthur Pendragon. We don't drag people and tie them to a pole to lash them; we don't throw them into dungeons."

Arthur pressed his lips firmly, apparently, everything he said was wrong here; Arya looked at him with narrowed eyes before she continued.

"We druids commit. That's how we have managed to survive all these years. When a Ronins does something wrong, we make them do it several times until they learn. Even if they hate it. When two of them don't get along we force them to cooperate. They need to see that little things as their own emotions can't get into the path of our community. We teach them."

Merlin finally gave up and sat on a chair. "Commitment? As if doing something in exchange for something?"

Arya nodded, "Precisely."

"Well, what do you want in exchange of the vase?" Arthur asked.

"I'm afraid we didn't come here to negotiate," She said after a moment, looking at them both for a long time, "My uncle said he trusts you both and this future he sees so bright and clear. Albion. He barely ever stops talking about that." Arya glance at the vase as if she could see something quite clearly written in it. Merlin dared feeling hope for a moment, but when Arya turned to face her eyes were devoid of hope, "However, I'm afraid Albion is just a dream for us, engraved in our memories like a child story, unlike my ancestors, I'm not a believer of prophecies and what they might entail."

"But you are a high priestess," Merlin said and it sounded more as a question than anything else, "You need to believe in prophecies, you see them all the time!"

"I do believe in them but I have seen many futures, Emrys, and just a few have come true, for all I know Arthur Pendragon could die today, and with him, Albion."

Arthur felt like he was kicked on the chest, "But—"

"I have to accept that being alive to witness the two of you work together it's a miracle by itself. I'm not saying the stories aren't true, I'm just saying than me more than anyone have seen that prophecies can fail."

"I have yet to see one;" Merlin said slowly, "All I have seen has come true."

"And how many prophecies have you seen?" Arya asked good-naturedly. Merlin fidgeted in his chair for a moment, glancing at Arthur once before he managed an answer.

"Three."

"I have seen hundreds," Arya replied, leaving Merlin and Arthur speechless, "And Shuri? She has seen thousands. Every breath we take, everything we do affects our destiny. You are Emrys, and maybe your visions are more accurate and precise than mine, however, that doesn't mean everything that is supposed to happen will. Time… destinies, the future can change, and as leader of this camp, Emrys, I have to see for them and their needs right now. And so I'm obliged to say that I'm not willing to give you the vase and the secrets this vase entails to help Uther Pendragon."

"But you must—" Arthur took a step forward.

"No," Arya said and her voice was as hard as steel. Arthur stopped in his tracks, "You are the leader of your own people, Prince Arthur, if you were in my place, right now, this instant, would you be able to look at me in the face and tell me what I'm doing is wrong? If you were me, what would you do?"

Arthur pressed his lips together but kept silent, feeling frustrated with the entire world, and with his silence losing the battle because he would be lying otherwise. If his worse enemy's life were on this vase he would've ordered Merlin to destroy it the second he had it in his hands.

"You speak of a truce, commitment, what does this mean?" Merlin demanded, he had been sure Arya would be willing to help them. He had been wrong.

Arya sighed as if she herself was annoyed with the druids' traditions, "We are not used to taking without giving. This vase is druid, it belongs to us, and yet I accept that by all means, it belonged to you before you willingly gave it to me. So, as the saying goes, let's put the cards on the table. You attacked a druid and deceived us. While we, for the first time in a long time, are refusing to help you even when you have asked," Arya said turning to Merlin. "And even if you don't see it that way, we are truly sorry for that."

"What are the terms?" Arthur asked with a crisp voice. "What will happen to the vase now?"

"I will not destroy the vase, nor will I use it against your father. You have my word."

But she was keeping it. And it it Uther's memories.

Merlin jumped from the chair, "Arya, don't do this, you can't do this! Just because I made a mistake doesn't mean things have to go this way."

"The decision was taken the moment you entered our camp and lied to us, trust once lost, is hard to gain back, Emrys, a lesson I thought you knew," She said resolute, "Uther is no friend of ours, Emrys, and I'm convinced he's not your friend either. This favor you are asking of me is to keep alive and well a man that has killed hundreds of ours. I value and respect the friendship that apparently you have with Prince Arthur, I will honor it by not killing Uther, however, I won't help a monster live freely when I have this opportunity. Not while I can breathe."

Merlin didn't dare look at Arthur, this had been his idea, and everything; the vase, Uther, Arthur's trust, the druids, everything was slipping through his hands.

"How can I trust you?" Arthur said with a voice so strong Merlin knew he was faking it. "How can I trust you won't murder him? You have my father's life in your hands! I can't have that and I won't accept it."

Arya's gray eyes turned to him, anger flashing behind them even as she stood eerily still, "Unlike the people in your realm, Arthur, we do not lie, and we certainly do not hurt people just for the sake of hurting. Although I do admit you will have to take a leap of faith with this."

Arthur didn't say anything; Arthur didn't trust the druids and the druids didn't trust him.

"And what will this amend?" Merlin asked bewildered, "How can this be a commitment if we are not gaining anything?"

"Well, the proposition of keeping the king safe is what we will do out of respect of life, we druids don't kill people out of revenge, it's what we do. It's something we are giving you in exchange of our refusal to help you, however, the commitment we are willing to make— in which there is no place for discussion— is certainly one you can refuse."

Merlin nodded, incredibly aware of where this was heading, she wanted a favor and Merlin knew that this favor could cost them dearly.

"What is it?" Merlin pressed.

Arya smiled then, but it wasn't entirely honest, it was a bit frustrated on the edges like she herself didn't know if she could pull this off. "Even though I would rather first cut my throat open…I'm willing to give you the vase under one condition."

At this Arthur and Merlin both looked at her startled.

"What?" Arthur said losing his cool for the first time, a second ago she said that wasn't even an option!

Arya raised her hand.

"I'm willing to give you the vase, however, there will be a price to pay, for starters neither of you will be welcomed back at this camp. Ever. You attacked a druid, almost killed him, you entered here with lies, you want to heal a mad king;" She listed mercilessly, "And on top of that you, Emrys, brought the reason that magic is banned in the first place to the very heart of our community. Arthur, just by being here, is a threat to all of us."

"I would never endanger you—"

"Am I supposed to believe that?" Arya said using his words against him, "How do I know the moment you are out of here you will not come back with an army of a thousand men just to take the vase?"

"Then why not give the vase to him then?" Merlin retorted. "Avoid confrontation."

Arya gave a sharp huff, looking at her hands for a moment, "I'm afraid I don't trust Arthur either way, he could come with an army anyway, keeping the vase would be nothing but an assurance that at least I would have some kind of leverage."

"I would not sell you to my father!" Arthur said enraged. "That would mean selling Merlin, in a way."

Merlin and Arya, however, were taking like if he had said nothing,

"Then why is Arthur the one that needs to take a leap of faith if you are not willing to do the same for him?"

Arya looked at Merlin for a long moment after his harsh words. "Do not let this friendship blind you, Emrys. I'm doing what it's best for my people, nothing more. We are still on your side. Always will be."

Merlin pressed his lips but nodded, trying to understand. "How do we get the vase, then?"

"This is where the commitment comes," Arya said steely as she placed her hands on the table, "And as it happens, and as Iseldir told me, you are two sides of the same coin. So I propose something that will benefit your kingdom, Arthur, but the commitment must be done by Emrys. As destiny has it we can't both win. Sadly, trusting each other to not attack each other means that someone has to take a leap of faith and as we can see no one wants to do it. I don't trust you to take the vase and not come back to annihilate us, and you don't trust me to keep it here—and the chances of you coming back for it are still high, in any case, a risk I'm not willing to take."

"We are on an agreement here," Arthur said grimly, "But what do you want of him?" Arthur said through gritted teeth. If she asked for too much, like Merlin staying here, Arthur would have to figure a way to steal the damned vase, or very well break his promise to not come and attack because he was willing to sacrifice many things but Merlin was not on that list.

Arya smiled for the first time, like if she could read his thoughts, "I would like to remind you, Arthur, that Emrys is not our enemy. However, I do have a very special favor to ask of him." At this, she turned to Merlin. "You are the last Dragonlord," she said matter of fact.

"I am." He said after a moment.

"Well, we have something in this camp that might, finally, put an end to that."

Two seconds passed before Merlin finally reacted, huge blue eyes growing wide with realization. "You—you have a dragon egg?"

"The last dragon egg," Arya said with a bright smile, suddenly both sorcerers talking as if they were not signing pacts and wars over a table, "And it's at this very camp."

"I thought—I thought Kilgharrah would live and die alone," Merlin said sadly but his eyes were sparkling as they usually did. It had been a while since Arthur had seen his eyes shine that way.

"And with your powers… after so many centuries…" Arya said with a broken voice, "There might be a chance."

"Wait—Wait a second," Arthur said raising a hand, too much information as always and they were moving past the important topic, "Let me get this straight. You give me the vase… in exchange of Merlin giving you a dragon? You think is that simple, my father in exchange of giving you a weapon?"

And yet Arthur would do it, but Arya shook her head solemnly, she looked like she was about to say something that might break the world.

And she did.

"No. I know what I'm asking for and I know it comes with a price higher than just giving you the vase. What I'm proposing is beyond what my Tensais and I agreed, and I will do it because I'm willing to believe and take the first step into this world my uncle so full heartedly believes in. That's why, I, Arya Wayland, Leader of the Druids, Sentinel of the Elders, and Master of Tensais, and Guard of Ronins, promise in the name of the Seven Gods that if you, Arthur Pendragon, leave this camp without this vase, I'll give you what you desire, what this land has wanted for entire centuries."

Arthur and Merlin were breathless. Merlin's head snapped up, shaking slightly, was she—

"I offer our magic, our friendship, and our advice," She said quietly, "I offer you, and only you Arthur Pendragon, the druids surrender. Or in better words, I offer you an alliance that will hold until your last breath." She took a moment to compose herself. "We will be your first allies in creating Albion."

Merlin's eyes were incredibly huge. His hand was clutching the edge of the table so tight his knuckles were white.

"You are offering a truce of servitude," He said marveled, "You—"

"I am. I'll vow and bow to Arthur Pendragon and claim him as our king— If he accepts."

A truce! A truce between magic and the kingdom.

This. This was huge. It would break barriers all around the five kingdoms. The news would go around the land like wildfire. The druids vowing to serve Arthur. It would be the beginning. His hands were trembling and his heart felt like it was about to burst. A truce!

Merlin was almost ready to say yes, he looked towards Arthur and his smile evaporated, Arthur's shoulders were slumped and his face, even though for the rest of the word was stoic, Merlin could see the pain behind his friend's eyes.

Uther Pendragon or Albion.

And Merlin hated himself for how easy the choice was for him.

"Arthur…."

Arthur leaned back, not looking at Merlin and huffed, "This… I—"

Arya nodded in understanding,

"I know I'm asking for too much; your Father and a Dragon. That is why I'm willing to give you the very same in return. A life-time truce between magic and Camelot. As I said, Emrys is the only one that can make this happen, however, the decision falls into your hands. If you agree to these terms meet me along with Emrys in the woods. There I will have the egg ready to be hatched. If you do not agree, well—tomorrow morning I will send Mersan here with the vase to escort you out of our camp."

"Certainly there has to be another way, another commitment, I—"

"The terms will not change; you may leave with the vase but you will not be welcomed inside these walls anymore. And we will, by no means, help you in any way in your quest to build Albion," She said resolutely. "We will not interfere but we will not help either, destinies must run their own way, maybe your refusal is what needs to happen, only the Gods know."

"But you—you are sacrificing me," Merlin said, and the pain was palpable in his face and voice.

For the first time Arya's eyes were sad, "I know. You are our greatest sorcerer, the reason we love magic… we are terrified to lose you, but the truce I'm willing to offer Arthur… is almost as great as yourself. I only see it fit," She smiled sadly after that, "Two sides of the same coin."

Arthur had never wanted to take such a phrase and to be able to physically burn it.

Arya rose from her seat after a quiet moment, taking the vase as she went, leaving the two friends frozen in their places.

"Arthur Pendragon," She called once she was at the entrance of the tent, Arthur looked at her somberly, "I'm offering you the truce of a lifetime, an alliance kings would have died for," Arya said quietly as she magically pushed the drapes up and out of her way before stepping out, "I'll advise you to use your mind instead of your heart, young prince. And know whatever you choose to do the repercussions of that decision will follow you for the rest of your life— remember that when you leave tomorrow."

And with those last words, Arya left.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Oh Gods," Merlin found himself whispering, opting to pace around the tent, unable to stay still a second longer after everything finally registered, "A truce. She's offering a truce, Arthur. An alliance! Oh for the love of—Arthur, she's offering you magic. When you become king you will have the largest and most powerful sorcerers by your side! You will not only have the largest army, but also the greatest sect of magic at your call! The things you could do with them—"

"Shut up, I have you!" Arthur said enraged, throwing his hands in the air. "I don't need anyone else!"

Merlin was moved but was not deterred in the slightest, "I can only do so much. You could help thousands with them. Remember Linorien? You could heal people, cure battle wounds in minutes, create schools, gain alliances with the rest of the magic sects. If you have the druids by your side the rest will follow! This barrier your father created could end today! Well, it might take a few years but if they vow to you, Arthur… you would be the most powerful King that as ever lived."

"At what expense!? Uh?" Arthur snapped, "Merlin, you seem to have forgotten what is at stake. If this were your mother, if this were Hunith, would you do it? Would you sacrifice her for the greater good?"

Arthur knew it was a low blow but Merlin erratic steps around the tent quieted.

"I—you expect me to understand this world Merlin, you expect me to suddenly not hate magic. Magic as harm me. Several times. The same people that my father killed have turned against us and my kingdom several times—no, I'm not defending him, I'm just saying that they have taken the same lives that we have taken. I don't trust the druids, and they don't trust me. So why should I believe this truce Arya says she will do?"

"I do, I believe her," Merlin said quietly.

Arthur huffed and began pacing, "And should I trust them with the life of my Father? For God's sake Merlin, leaving the vase here means that I—that I will never…" Arthur stopped as he pushed his hair out of his face, he took a ragged breath before he turned towards Merlin with a broken face, was Merlin… was he really considering—?! "You can't be asking me this, Merlin, you can't."

"Arthur, I'm so, so sorry."

"You are not, you hate my father," Arthur almost snapped, "Everyone does damn it! But I don't care. He's all I have left and you want me to sacrifice him?! He's my father!"

"We all must make sacrifices, Arthur, this is for Albion, this is your destiny," Merlin said softly, "I'm not saying is right, I'm not saying I approve but, can you at least consider it an—"

"Then I don't want it, fuck destiny, "Arthur said stubbornly, "I don't want to build Albion by sacrificing the only family I have left! Arya can shove that proposal wherever she sees fit because I'm not going to say yes—"

"Arthur!" Merlin exploded and a few things around the tent shook with the magic Merlin let loose, Arthur took an involuntary step back, "Kids will live happily, druids kids will be able—in a few years— to train in gardens and outside their houses and have friends and don't be scared! You are going to be able to abolish the very same thing that is hurting and separating our worlds! This eternal fear Camelot is under will lift! You will finally eradicate everything that I was afraid of. That I'm still afraid of."

"Merlin, this is not the same, it's not—"

"I can't believe you are not accepting this right away!" Merlin said frustrated, "Your Father it's not going to die, he will live, you are going to be able to create new memories with him! He might take you under his wing and love you again! Isn't that enough?"

"Are you serious?!" Arthur said outraged, "And lose him for a kingdom I don't know if it will ever come to exist?! Even with the druids! My father will become the phantom of the man I used to know! This is a sacrifice I'm not willing to make! I will not be King when—"

"I have made sacrifices too, Arthur," Merlin said with a low tone, "For you and Albion I have lost and sacrificed many things."

Arthur knew this was a fight they both have tried long to avoid, they both had agreed to not hold grudges of magic and power against each other.

But what about what they had done to each other. What about the things Arthur had always been too scared to ask?

What about that.

"I have killed people for you—" Merlin said quietly, tears prickling at his eyes because he couldn't understand and at the same time he did, but this—this was greater than the both of them, "—I have lost count how many. I have taken poisoned potions for you. I have taken blames. I have been alone for years, away from my own world because I have trust and faith in you. Always will. I have lost people too, just because I don't say it or show it does not mean it didn't happen. My own father was killed while trying to help you. My mother was left alone because your father banned magic. I have grown up thinking I'm a monster because your father one day decided that everything that was magical was evil— tell me, the kids you saw today? Were they evil to you? The little girl you were talking with, was she evil? Disturbing? –Am I?!"

Merlin was trying to hold back the tears and the anger now, "It took a long time, Arthur, a long time for me to accept this fate and finally surrender to help you. And I did because you are not your father, you are not his sins and you, for God's sake, I could say I would do anything for you but that's pointless because I already have. I lost my parents— one way or another,— I lost my childhood, I lost Will," Merlin's eyes grew sad and the first tear finally fell, "In this silent war of magic and power I even lost Freya."

Arthur paled at the name of her; Freya. He fought the impulse to cover his ears or to run out the tent. He had always wanted to know how about her, about the stories and things Merlin carried on his shoulders and now that he knew he wished he could go back to the day Merlin told him he was a sorcerer.

Given the place they were now, he wished he had never told him.

Merlin took a shaky breath, "You killed her, you know? Two years ago. She was a druid girl, cursed, but…. but she was so pure and so gentle and kind and beautiful and smart… you—you didn't know you killed her, though, as always, because for the past four years that has been your role, Arthur. You have been blind and I'm the one left to correct your wrongs. You have any idea how hard it was for me? To fight a war alongside you when you weren't even aware you were supposed to be fighting?"

Arthur wished he was deaf, or in a nightmare, anything was better than this. It was painful to watch. Arthur needed the world to stop for a moment. A few days actually.

"You still have Gwen," Merlin said as he tried to get rid of the tears, "And I hope you never feel the… emptiness— I loved her Arthur. I loved her the second I saw her because she was like me… and she—and she was gone way too soon," Merlin was quiet for a moment. A soft sad smile appeared on his face as he looked to the side as if remembering something, "She proposed me to leave Camelot you know?"

Arthur blinked at this, "Merlin—"

"I said yes," Merlin stated, "I told her we could leave. I was ready, I wanted it. I wanted to leave Camelot and everything behind because… because I was happy for once in my entire life, because someone understood. Destiny, of course, worked against me, uh? No news there..."

"Merlin-"

"Freya decided that my place was in Camelot, so at night she left without me… you found her, though, before she could escape in her cursed form… and as duty called you killed her… I just watched, unable to do something…anything, I—" Merlin said in despair, "All these magic and all I was able to do was watch! Watch because you didn't know!"

"I'm…. I'm so sorry Merlin," Arthur said terrified he had caused so much pain to his friend, even unknowingly, he didn't know what he would do without Gwen I his life, to know he had done something like that to Merlin made Arthur's heartache.

"And yet, even after all this Arthur…" Merlin raised his head and gave Arthur his best smile, the impish smile that most of the times made Arthur roll his eyes, however, this time it was stained with sadness and anger and… something that Arthur wished he could just erase from Merlin's soul, "I still would die today if that ensured your safety tomorrow."

The words rang heavily on the air after that as Merlin kept rambling.

"So I'm sorry if I'm being selfish, or irrational, but this is the chance, your chance, to start righting the wrongs that these people have suffered. I'm begging you. Take it. Take it and make it right, a weapon against all the crimes that have been committed to the both of us. To your people and mine. Your father will live and I promise I will keep working on the vase, maybe in the future, after everything is settled and done I'll be able to come back and request the vase again. I will even steal it if you want me but please. Please… just… please," And Merlin's voice broke a little, "Take the truce."

He was still standing but his hands were trembling and he just hoped against hope that Arthur could make the right decision because Merlin was tired of hiding and hurting and sacrificing everything he had and more. This meant the salvation of so many people. He had learned from a tender age that great things are not built on happy thoughts and Arthur knew this too.

The sudden silence that followed ringed heavily on their ears, the tent the only silent witness of such an argument. Both friends stared almost terrified at each other, neither of them sure if the decision of the other, whatever that might be, could be either accepted or forgiven.

"Merlin, this is my father," Arthur stressed, eyes prickling furiously with tears, "I'm sorry, Merlin, But I—I won't do it," Arthur 's blue eyes settled on Merlin's, and he saw the exact moment where Merlin's hope broke. Not having the courage to witness the end of this, feeling equal sadness and guilt flowing him, so much that it could not be properly described, Arthur quickly left the tent not daring to look back.

Merlin felt like if someone had kicked him in the stomach, tears finally running freely as he stood rooted in the middle of the tent, silently watching the spot that Arthur had occupied. Anger and sadness bubbled inside him as he let himself fall ungracefully on the floor.

In frustration he threw his hands around himself and over his head, a wave of magic swept the floor. The table moved a whole meter to the side knocking two chairs back, a crystal goblet shattered, and the few candle lights keeping the darkness and shadows at edge died.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Arthur wished he could be back in Camelot just so he could climb to the top of his tower and be left alone. He didn't want to see anyone. He felt like he was suffocating and he didn't know where to run to find shelter. He was alone, utterly alone in the middle of a camp that hated him and for a moment he wished he could just be a normal man. He often wondered if he had not been born a prince, would his life be simpler? Easier, somehow?

He sighed as he reflexively moved his hand to take his sword just to find it empty. He felt the need to kick something and he did, taking his anger into the nearest rock.

Merlin was asking for too much. He understood, he really did, but he didn't have the heart to just… lose his father, leave him in the hands of the druids. He still needed him; his advice and his guidance and just… just a hug. Just a smile and a pat on the back because he was proud of him. He was being selfish, incredibly so, but wasn't he allowed to just… take a moment? A fucking moment to think things through?! Between meeting a dragon, finding a druid camp, Merlin attacking Mordred, and Arya bloody throwing at his face a life-time truce he had barely had time to process things.

He didn't know when or how but his feet carried him to the entrance of the forest, he almost tripped in his haste and finally, he took notice of his surroundings, he nodded as he walked past the first line of trees. He didn't dare go too far. He just stepped inside and hid behind the nearest thick tree he could find, taking huge gulps of air as he sat heavily on the muddy floor.

He gave a frustrated yell. His brain working extra hours to grasp all the side effects of what had just happened. He felt like no matter the decision he would hate himself for taking it. He couldn't rule Albion—he refused—if it meant building it over the sacrifice of the last man on earth who was his family. His mother had died when he was born, he had no siblings, Morgana, his stepsister, a woman he had loved once just like his own blood, wanted him dead and Agravaine, his uncle, had died trying.

Losing his father will leave him alone.

And Arthur Pendragon was not ready for that.

"Such a peaceful night, isn't it?"

Arthur snapped his head to the voice so fast his neck hurt. He recognized the man. Iseldir. The old man was a few yards away, contemplating the sky from around the top of the trees, hands behind his back. A golden sphere of light was silently glowing above his head, functioning as a magical lamp. Arthur didn't say anything, stupidly wondering if he was talking to him. Of course he was. There was no one else here.

"I apologize, I—" He quickly stood up, not knowing if entering the forest was against some kind of rule.

"It's alright," Iseldir looked at him with a gentle smile, "After all the forest it's a great place to wander around, although I will advise you to not stray too far from the edges, the forest it's deceiving. Once Lyaa got lost here for a few days, I think."

Arthur stood there, arms crossed over his chest as he looked at his surroundings, he nodded but he wasn't entirely up for conversation, nor did he care, really, after an awkward moment he turned to leave. He was still not ready to face Merlin just yet but he wasn't going to stay around either.

"Mordred told me you went to see him."

Arthur froze in the middle of leaving, he didn't turn though, "Yes. I went to visit him."

"Why?"

Arthur looked over his shoulder before turning to face him, "I— I wanted to make sure he was alright, after all, it was entirely my fault this happened."

"How so?"

Arthur chose to lose this battle and decided to change the topic, "Arya said you trusted me and Merlin's destiny. You trust us to build Albion." He stated.

"I do."

"Why?" Arthur almost spat, "How can you be so sure about it?"

Iseldir shrugged with a smile playing on his face. Arthur narrowed his eyes. What an odd man, too stubborn to ask again Arthur turned for the second time when Iseldir moved inside the forest, startling him.

"I was going to a place— a little lake that I find incredibly useful to think around. I think you might be in need of it more than I do. Do you want me to show you? It's just a few minutes away from here. As you said, not a large forest, a bit deceiving but... I'll be your guide."

And Arthur, even to this day, doesn't know why he followed him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It turns out the little lake wasn't a lake. It was barely a pond. It was just a few steps wide and a few inches deep. He could jump it if he wanted. The little pond had seemed to make its home near a tall and wide tree, but all in all, the place lacked importance in and on itself. Arthur would have just passed the little pond without a second thought if Iseldir had not stopped him. The shiny ball of light hovered a few meters above them, illuminating their surroundings and reflecting the light back on the surface of the water.

Iseldir just turned his stare from the lake to Arthur in quiet mystery.

"This is it? The lake?" Arthur almost spat, indicating with a hand to the offending body of water, Jesus Christ, even Merlin's tears could make a bigger one! "I have seen pools of spilled milk wider than this."

Iseldir chuckled merrily, "I guess calling it a lake was a bit of an exaggeration."

Arthur huffed amused and crossed his arms, eyeing the dark edges of the forest around him "What is this place? Is the place druids use to… meditate or something?"

Iseldir raised his brows, "I come here to make decisions but mostly it's a solitary place. I bring Arya sometimes, a few Tensais if they ask, and sometimes, willing and curious ronins." He grinned.

"I'm not a ronin."

"Didn't say you were."

Arthur nodded briskly, feeling oddly out of place, but did not comment, for a few heavy seconds he pretended to be interested in the forest and what laid beyond it.

"Do you know how prophecies started, Prince Arthur?" Iseldir asked out of the blue and Arthur shook his head.

"No I—I've heard of them, about seers and sorcerers, Merlin has seen things too, apparently," he said, remembering bitterly, "Not that he shares much, though."

Iseldir nodded, "And with good reason, prophecies are scaring things, Arthur, but do you know how they were born?"

"Like… who said it first?" Arthur wondered out loud. "Who predicted it?"

"No, as if, how prophecies existed in the first place?"

Arthur shook his head, even if had tried to escape it, here was Iseldir, to remind him of his own prophecy and to why he was here to begin with.

If there was a God he certainly hated Arthur.

"I'm trying to escape one, I don't need the reminder," He said before thinking. Arthur felt like he could die from embarrassment, but he stayed motionless.

"It alright," Iseldir said gently, "My Ronins most of the time are too scared to comment or bicker with me. This is a good change." Iseldir motioned between Arthur and him with a hand before he settled his hands behind his back again, "You see, there's a legend, of a lake as wide as an ocean that used to exist in this land centuries ago. Stories say that whoever dared to look at it would be able to see the future; he would see what he missed the most, or what he wanted and wished to come true. He would be able to see everything… This lake held so much power people went mad. Thousands and thousands traveled around the kingdoms to be able to have a glimpse at its waters. All of them wanted to know their future, but well, even magic has its limits, I guess."

"What happened?" Arthur asked, feeling grateful for the little detour of his thoughts.

"Well, imagine I look inside and saw me buying myself a house, but then you look inside and you see yourself buying a house…. And then, imagine thousands of people looking inside and they see the same result. What would happen then?"

Arthur scrunched his nose, "There would be… way too many houses?"

Iseldir laughed and Arthur fought the impulse to not huff in annoyance. "No. It just proves that even if in the future we all buy a house there will be not enough houses, per say, and so some of us will have a different outcome then, and that would change the immediate future, don't you think?"

"Why would there not be enough houses?" Arthur asked confused.

"Maybe comparing destinies and futures with houses was a bad decision." Iseldir hummed.

"I do understand the point," Arthur's shifted his weight to his other foot, raising an arm lazily. "If everyone had access to their dreams, well, not everybody's dreams can come true, right? Not everybody can win."

If only.

Iseldir nodded, "That is correct, indeed. So, as I was saying, people went mad, they didn't understand why the lake lied and showed the truth at the same time. The lake only reflected their many paths in life; however, they didn't understand the difference then, between their dreams and what was to come. They began killing people, started to see stolen destinies when some of them obtained what they had seen, thinking the other had, somehow, taken what was theirs." Iseldir walked around the little space in the forest. "One day, one of the Seven Gods saw this and decided to put an end to it. So one night, when no human was around to witness it, he came down to earth, took all the water of the lake in his arms and took it with him, back to the kingdom of the Gods—"

Arthur was about to comment on that, but he wisely shut up.

"—However, the one coming down wasn't the most attentive of the Gods, so he didn't notice that in his hurry to take the lake away, he left the tiniest of drops—compared to him—behind. The next day the first to arrive to the lake were three brothers, who had traveled a great length to see their futures, they had stayed the night nearby, deciding to show up early before anybody else, and once they did they noticed that the lake was gone, on one night, the ocean had gone dry."

"What happened then? People just… forgot it?"

"People began arriving to find an empty crater, they became desperate. How to live their lives without knowing? Without their destinies and dreams sprayed in front of them for them to choose? They began searching for anything that could be rescued."

Arthur scoffed at his insides.

"It was the youngest brother of the three who found the little remains of the lake. He called their brothers and asked them what they should do about it. They all had different ideas and they couldn't agree on one route to take. The one in the middle wanted to build a fortress around it and charge people to come and see it."

At this Arthur blinked… where had he heard something of the like before? A fountain, maybe?

"The oldest wanted to create something with the water. He was a sorcerer and he had magic that could make good use of the magical properties of the water, an inventor he was. A creator. The first creator may I add."

Again…. A story popped inside Arthur's brain—something that showed the future?

Arthur gasped, interrupting Iseldir's story tale.

"Wait—wait, wait, you are talking…. About the Ocean of the visions right? I know the place! It's on Orion's kingdom. Not an ocean but a little fountain inside his castle. Not many people have access to it. I thought it were rumors… he charges you in order to see your future? As if that could happen, I thought he had a seer working for him, a smart strategy to gain allies, every King before Orion has used the same scheme but —are you serious? You are telling me this lake existed?"

Iseldir just waited for Arthur to be done.

"And the magical object that shows the future. I read once about it in a book before my Father decided I was too old for them. The mirror of Erised. You look into it and it will show you the thing you most want. Your heart's desire. It's been lost for centuries…but that's impossible, such a thing cannot exist!"

And yet Arthur had talked with a Dragon, he remembered bitterly.

"Well, it's just a story, Arthur," Iseldir shrugged, "Not a living person has ever seen a God, and no one to this day has actually lived to tell the story of that lake disappearing or if it ever existed. I'm just sharing you this with you to take your minds off things, nothing else."

Arthur eyed the pond warily, taking a step back. "And what about the youngest? What did he do?"

Iseldir's eyes twinkled with hidden excitement, his smile growing wider, "He chose to be the caretaker of the pond, saying that at least part of something so magical should stay free for humanity with its rightful place in nature; not guarded and not in objects. His brothers took most of the water but they loved their brother, so they allowed him to have enough water to form, to this day, the most important and yet tiniest ponds in history."

Arthur's eyes grew wide as he felt his mouth fall open, he looked towards the pond just a step away from his feet and he visibly paled.

"Wait, but—you said—"

"That's how prophecies began circulating the five realms, centuries after that. And that young brother became the first druid. The very first sorcerer that guarded magic and nature for the benefit of Humanity; Iperol," Iseldir looked down at the pond and smiled, "My grand, grand, grand, and probably three hundred and seven more, grandfather."

Arthur's back collided against a tree; he opened and closed his mouth several times but nothing came out. He looked like the personification of a fish.

"So you see then, that this it's not a normal, average— how did you wisely called it? Ah, right, a pond the size of a pool of spilled milk."

For God's sake, life was seriously not supposed to be this hard.

A/N: Good things happen when you review because if you say something smart and witty you might see it written here! Hope some of you found your words!

A/N2: SOOO?! DID I SURPRISE ANYONE? A tiny bit? In some part or another? The fight? THE TRUCE TO BUILD ALBION?! The ending?! The result of this chapter is already written, guys! I wrote this whole thing in a sitting along with Chapt 38 BUT I love cliffhangers. I'm sorry. Besides, I want to know your opinions first guys, what do you think will happen? (I already do but I want to see the different points of view you will have!) It's a lot to consider. Albion, Uther, Aithusa, the Druids as allies…honestly, it was a bit hard to choose what to do because I don't want to see either of them suffer but only one can win here.

Arya is a smart woman.

Yep, you don't need to wonder, Arthur will stare at his future/destiny/desires in the next chapter, also, definitely now it will be the last chapter with the druids. WE ARE GOING BACK TO CAMELOT. I think you will be surprised at what Arthur might see in the pond. Who knows.

And yeah, lots of Harry Potter in this chapter although I'm going to be entirely honest and say it wasn't part of the plan. I just thought of the pond… and then I said… let's add some background because I love stories. And let's have siblings. Three. Because that's always a good number. And then I was like, uhm… seeing the future and what you want? Just like the mirror of Erised!—And then I thought: LETS INCLUDE IT BECAUSE WHY NOT!

Honestly in my Story Line Iseldir was just going to drop Arthur there and say something as "just stare down at it" and suddenly two lines became like 4 pages.

Sorry for the long A/N! I like sharing the process of writing sometimes!

-Juliet'lovestory!-