Merlin, you can fight this, remember? Find the link and break it.
It… hurts…
I know. Just keep trying.
Merlin gasped, his eyes flying open. He knew this place well. It was where she came to meet him in his mind. It was still dark and cold beyond comprehension, but it felt different. She was farther away from him. She was afraid.
"Why don't you just leave?" Merlin called out. His voice was stronger in his mind than it had been in the conscious world.
"You cannot leave me, Emrys. If you do, I will kill him."
Merlin's heart stuttered. Arthur.
"I'll just have to kill you first," Merlin said, his voice colder than the air around him.
Shrill laughter cut through his mind like a knife, making him flinch at the pain it caused. "You can try, but I've been doing this a lifetime longer than you."
Merlin realized too late that the voice had gotten closer to him. He felt the icy cold hovering right above him, before suddenly he was pinned to the ground. Sharp talons dug into his shoulders as the creature leaned over him with a hiss. Merlin could just make out a pair of white eyes flickering in the dark, mere inches from his face.
"Go on and kill me," it whispered, brushing against his jaw.
It touched his forehead, and Merlin screamed. He could feel it invading his thoughts, soaking up every single second of his entire life. And it hurt like hell. It was like every inch of his body was being pulled apart with bolts of lightning. Images filled his head. He saw his mother in Ealdor, humming and leaning over him in his crib. She was smiling, but there were tears in her eyes. She had been so afraid for him growing up. Then, Merlin saw the first day he arrived in Camelot. He saw Gaius, Arthur, Gwen and Morgana, all so young and full of life, unaware of the trials awaiting them. Then he saw Gaius, near death on the Isle of the Blessed in his attempt to sacrifice himself for Merlin. He saw Gwen in the dungeons, on the verge of being executed for what Merlin had done. And then there was Arthur, lying on the forest floor, bleeding out from the bolt of a crossbow while Merlin was helpless to save him. And finally, Morgana, gasping for life and struggling against his hold. Each image was another knife in his heart, another jolt of pain deep in his chest. The images were all too much at once and their intensity was only growing, as was his agony.
Merlin felt his magic reacting before his mind caught up with him. It was twisting in his chest, billowing out from him like smoke. It shimmered gold in the darkness, lighting up the face of his tormentor who was still straddling him, pinning him to the ground. Each tendril of magic lashed out towards the creature, striking it like vipers. And suddenly it was the succubus who was crying out. Merlin gasped as his magic latched onto the creature. He grew dizzy and his eyes fluttered closed.
He was standing on a hill. Tall grass swayed in the golden light and the smell of freshly-baked bread wafted in on the wind. It filled Merlin with happiness. He frowned—these feelings were not his own.
The warlock marched down the hill and came face-to-face with a small village. His feet seemed to be moving for him, directing him somewhere. He found himself standing before a wooden gate in front of a quaint little cottage. Before he could push the gate open, he heard laughter and his head swiveled to find the source.
A young girl was running in front of the cottage, squealing happily as an older man—Merlin assumed it was her father—finally caught her and scooped her up. Her hair was blonde and curly, bouncing merrily as she was lifted up. Merlin felt her joy as if it was his own. Her father cradled her, speaking words that were lost in the wind before they could reach Merlin's ears. The girl laughed at something her father said. Then, her green eyes suddenly locked with Merlin's, and her smile vanished.
Merlin swayed as his surroundings blurred and shifted. He shut his eyes against it, feeling the pressure in his head increasing. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand it. When Merlin reopened his eyes, it was darker out, and it was cold. He was standing at the edge of a lake, an eerie mist rolling in from the opposite side.
Two blurry figures came into focus, heading towards the water's edge. It was the blonde girl, but she was older now. Her father had her by the arm and his body sagged as he walked. He looked worn and tired, but he also looked afraid. Merlin frowned. No, he looked terrified. Then Merlin saw the girl's face—she held the same expression. Merlin reached out, but his hand passed through her arm as she passed. It was only a memory.
"I don't know what you are, but you're not my daughter anymore."
The girl sobbed hysterically, trying to pull out of his grip. "Father, please! I—I didn't mean to—"
"I'm sorry."
Merlin cried out but could not be heard. He could only watch as the girl's father forced those bright blonde curls beneath the water. And Merlin felt it all—he felt her horror, her fear and anger. He felt helpless in the biting cold, as if he too were being held under. He couldn't breathe.
But then it was over as quickly as it had started. She floated, lifelessly, and her father walked away and didn't turn back. But Merlin could feel it—he sensed her weak pulse, as a transformation began to take place. Her father had tried to murder his own innocent child out of fear, but instead he had created a monster that would only grow in power.
"I have never had my mind invaded before. Feels strange."
Merlin jolted, coming face-to-face with the young girl, who was now standing mere inches from him. She was dripping wet.
"You were human once," he said, unsure of what else to say. Unsure of what to do.
She nodded, curls bouncing. Her eyes flashed white for a moment. "It was a long time ago. And it doesn't matter."
"It does matter. It means there's hope for you."
She shook her head, looking sad. "My father feared me because of my psychic power, and he was right to. I was always destined to become what I am now."
Her hand reached for him, but Merlin backed away. "I'm sorry you were cursed in this way, but I cannot let you hurt people anymore." Merlin paused, wetting his lips. It was growing harder to think, like his head was filling with molasses. He was somehow in her head and it was draining him. He had to find the link between them and destroy it. Quickly.
"We're not so different. Your mother feared you as well."
"She never feared me. She feared for me."
But even as he said it, Merlin wasn't convinced it was the truth. His mother loved him, he knew that. But there must've been a time when she had been afraid of him, even if it was for a fleeting moment. Hell, Merlin was afraid of himself.
His eyes widened. Perhaps their connection wasn't just psychic, but it was emotional. They had both feared their own abilities and carried burdens that no one else could ever understand. Their shared fear was the key.
Merlin finally understood, and he knew what to do.
"I'm sorry," Merlin said. He shivered at his own words and how they echoed the horrible scene he had just witnessed.
The girl frowned up at him as Merlin's magic surged forward, sending her flying back into the water. She wailed, sounding far from human. The sound tore through Merlin's mind, causing him to cry out. He felt his knees wobble, but he forced himself to remain standing. The girl melted back into her true form—the monster she now was. Her horrible eyes glowed white in the darkness and the mist began to roll in quickly.
"I'll kill everyone you love for this! Starting with the blonde boy!" She snarled, her black lips curling angrily.
Merlin ignored the threat, pressing forward until he was standing in the water, hovering above her. His magic aided him as he pushed her face down, holding her below the surface. It reminded him of when he last held Morgana and he barely suppressed a sob. She struggled against him with unbelievable force, but his magic was stronger. He could feel her fear again, and he could practically taste the freezing water. The longer he held her, the more the pressure in his head built up. He was struggling to get air, the pain in his head was becoming unbearable. A scream tore itself from his throat just as he felt her go still below his fingertips.
Once again, the world went blissfully dark.