Leon wiped his sword on the tattered curtains flapping around a shattered window, sheathed it, then grasped Arthur's arm in greeting.
"How'd you kill it?" asked Arthur, exhaustion seeping in as the adrenaline faded.
"Got lucky, I suppose. There was a weak spot where its head met its neck," Leon responded. Arthur nodded. "Do you have any idea where we are?"
"No idea. It can't possibly be our world. I mean, look at this thing!" Arthur pointed to a contraption sticking out of the wall. It was silver, and looked rather like a cane with a protrusion on either side. "Have you ever seen one before?"
Leon inspected the object closely. "No. What do you reckon it's for?" Arthur shrugged, and reached toward it. Leon suddenly threw his arm out. "Wait, sire! What if it's dangerous?"
"Doesn't look dangerous."
"That doesn't mean it isn't."
Arthur sighed. "Very well, then." Leon redrew his sword, and cautiously advanced on the contraption. He prodded gently with his sword from several different angles for a number of minutes before grudgingly stepping aside. "See? Nothing to worry about." Despite his words of consolation to Leon, Arthur approached the contraption with caution. He took off his leather glove and began prodding it from all angles. He poked one of the protruding appendages coming off the side, and was shocked when it moved slightly. He jerked his hand back when it did so, and looked nervously toward Leon. Leon shrugged. Curiosity overcame his apprehension, and he applied more pressure to the moving protrusion.
It jerked back faster than Arthur expected it too, and he leaped back when a stream of water shot out of the cane-like part of the strange object. Leon and Arthur stared in wonder as water filled the metal basin below.
"How is it doing that?" Leon asked, moving closer to the jet of water.
"Sorcery, I suppose," answered Arthur. Leon reached out and toggled the knob that Arthur pushed back. All at once, the water stopped. Leon looked toward Arthur with fear and wonder apparent on his face.
"Life would have been so much easier if we had these installed at the palace," said Leon, twisting the knob back and forth, watching the water start and stop.
"Indeed," said Arthur distractedly. He found Leon, but where were the other knights? Where was Guinevere? He was itching to search for them, but first he had to pull Leon away from the water-producing mechanism, which would undoubtedly take a lifetime.
After what seemed like years of toggling the knobs back and forth, they finally got bored and decided to move on. They gathered up their gear, and lightheartedly discussed the implications that the device would have had on palace life, until they reached the door. The somber sight yanked them unpleasantly back to earth. Water ran in abundance down the streets, tattered clothing, half eaten food, and assorted playthings seemed to be thrown about haphazardly, and the whole ghastly display was completed by the bodies strewn every which way, each with an expression of horror frozen in place by whatever had wreaked such havoc.
Leon gulped audibly.
"We need to find the others," Arthur stated determinedly, hand clasped on the hilt of his sword.
"Others?" Leon inquired.
"Well, it can't have been just you and I that were brought back." Leon nodded in agreement, and began searching through the surrounding buildings, tense, and never more than 5 feet away from each other. After about an hour of extremely slow progress, Arthur realized the utter uselessness of this tactic.
"We need to split up," he decided.
"Split up? Pardon me, sir, but have you gone insane?"
"Well, this doesn't seem to be working, and I am somewhat anxious to find my wife."
"Arthur, how can you be sure she's alive?"
"I just know it, all right?" Arthur looked up at the sky. "I know." It was then that an eerie shriek rent the still air, and the two companions exchanged panicked looks. "Right. We need to be smarter about this," Arthur admonished, head swiveling. "We can't just search willy nilly. Where would we find the knights on a normal day?"
"Arthur, I would hardly classify this as a normal day," Leon replied, looking around as well. Arthur glared at him.
"Just cooperate," Arthur ordered.
"Well, they would be in many different places."
"All right then, let's just focus on one. Where would we find Gwaine?" They looked at each other, and simultaneously answered, "The tavern."
They both drew their swords, and went on a hunt for anything that would signify the presence of alcohol. After a few minutes of searching, they heard the sound of shattering bottles. After such a long period of silent and panicked searching, the noise almost sounded like music. They traced the sound to a rather squat building that had the appearance of being tucked away in a corner and forgotten. Just as they were about to enter, the doors flew open and revealed a woman possessing a head of rather curly hair dragging a rather attractive Irishman by the ear. Put quite frankly, she appeared quite cross.
"You just never know when to quit, do you?" Arthur warmed at the sound of the woman's voice.
"Pardon me, my lady, but I kinda like the idea of showing up to the pearly gates drunk off my balls," answered the Irishman, pulling away and rubbing his ear and brushing back his shoulder-length, dark hair. It was then that he spied the two men over the woman's shoulder.
"Arthur! Leon!" he shouted. He dropped the bottle he was holding, rushed forward, and tackled them both in a hug only Gwaine could give.
"Nice to see you, old friend!" yelled Arthur jovially, after spitting out a mouthful of Gwaine's hair.
"Arthur?" came a soft voice. Arthur pulled away from Gwaine, and finally laid eyes on Guinevere. She had pinned her hair up in the knot she always wore as a servant, with tiny ringlets framing her face with a warm, brown curtain. Her eyes were dark, but not like a dank tunnel would be dark. They reminded Arthur of the last night of summer: warm, accented with lights given off by thousands of candles in the city as the people of Camelot celebrated the Harvest, and the stars that shone so brightly when the whole city sighed as it laid down to rest. Those eyes held so many memories within their dark embrace, and each and every one of them was beautiful. But now, they were full of tears.
"Hello, my love. Look, I'm sorr-" But before he could finish his sentence, she threw her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his. Within seconds, Arthur forgot everything he was about to say. He forgot about the monsters, he forgot about death, and his confusion. In those few seconds, it was just Gwen. No knights, no him, just Gwen. And oh, how he wished it would stay that way. He was disappointed when she pulled away so soon. She kept her grip on his hands.
"I-I," she stuttered. She seemed at a loss for words. She kept opening and closing her mouth, searching for something to say. After a few seconds of this, her face warmed as a smile graced her features. "I've missed you."
"And I you," answered Arthur, resting a hand on her cheek. They were jerked out of their reverie when Gwaine began pretending to retch off to the side.
"There's a time and a place sire," contributed Leon, feigning disgust. But Arthur could tell that he was secretly pleased for them. Arthur cleared his throat uncomfortably, and pulled away, but kept his fingers interlaced with hers.
"We need to find a place to take refuge," interjected Gwen. "There seems to be all manner of magical creatures out here, intending to kill us."
"Agreed," said Arthur, drawing his sword. "The only problem is, all of the houses in the area seem to be completely destroyed."
"So where are we supposed to take cover?" asked Gwaine, picking up another bottle from the ground. Gwen promptly slapped it out of his hands.
"The woods, obviously," said Leon, pointing his sword West. "It seems to be the only thing in the area that isn't shredded, torn or burning." Arthur nodded.
"We'll need some supplies," suggested Gwaine.
"Salvage whatever you can from the houses," commanded Arthur. They spent the next 15 minutes gathering food, water, blankets, and whatever clothes they could find that appeared to fit. The knights and Arthur gathered together a sizeable pile of shirts and trousers, but Gwen was having trouble finding "appropriate" clothing.
"And what is this supposed to be?" groused Gwen, holding up a shirt.
"What's wrong with it?" Arthur called back, about three feet away, packing all of his clothes in a leather satchel he had found.
"What's wrong with it? It's missing sleeves!"
"And?" Arthur asked grinning. Color rushed into her cheeks.
"Shut up." She kept digging through the piles of clothes they had gathered together. She came up with a woolen sweater and a pair of blue trousers. Gwen ran the material between her fingers curiously.
"What are those?" asked Gwaine, ambling over with his own satchel.
"Trousers, I think," answered Gwen. "But I've no idea what they're made of."
"But you're a seamstress, isn't this your forte?" asked Gwaine.
"Shut up," she said again. She rushed inside, dressed quickly, then came back out again, trying to roll up the sleeves on her sweater while simultaneously pulling on some small leather boots. When she finished, she put her hands on her hips. "Well, what do you think?"
Arthur looked at her in her wrinkled, too big sweater and smiled. "Perfect." She smiled, pleased.
"I said it once, I'll say it again," teased Gwaine, putting his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Nice catch." Arthur cuffed him on the back of the head.
"Are we ready to move, sire?" asked Leon, shouldering his pack. Arthur nodded, and they started towards the woods.
Arthur stopped the small party when they reached the edge of the trees. The entire city behind them was demolished, but none of the trees seemed damaged. Not even a leaf was singed.
"Maybe it's protected," suggested Gwaine.
"By what? What could possibly save an entire forest from destruction?" asked Leon.
"Magic," answered Gwen, and the group fell into silence. Arthur forged ahead anyway, starting along a well-worn path, Gwen and Leon following.
"Arthur? What do you think you're doing?" asked Gwaine, still on the other side of the treeline.
"Seeking shelter, isn't that obvious?" asked Gwen before Arthur could speak.
"But you said it was protected by magic."
"And?" interjected Leon.
"And? Isn't magic evil? Have you forgotten about Dragoon the Great? Morgana?"
"Well, maybe this sorcerer is nice," Arthur suggested calmly. Gwaine looked at them as though they were insane. "Look, not all magic is evil, just like fire isn't evil. It depends on who wields it. It's a tool, not always a weapon."
"But-"
"Merlin was a sorcerer," thundered Arthur suddenly. "Was he evil?"
"Merlin?" gasped Gwaine. "A sorcerer?" Arthur nodded. Gwaine stumbled after them, and they continued on their way.
After stepping through the trees, it seemed that they entered into a different world. It was damp and balmy, and sunlight filtered through the leaves. The world behind them had been dark and cold. Deer pranced, birds chirped, rabbits leapt, and a golden glow enfolded everything around them.
"It feels like spring," Gwaine commented.
"Indeed," answered Leon. "Only a very powerful sorcerer could have done this."
"Well, then, let's just hope they're nice," suggested Gwen, and they carried on in silence.
Arthur tried to hope, but he still kept his sword at the ready. Before Merlin, he had never even considered the fact that sorcerers could be good. All of this life, he had learned that magic corrupted and twisted the user until they were something completely unrecognizable. He thought that's what happened to Morgana, but it must have been something else. Merlin had served him for years without a fault in his loyalty. And yet, he had practiced magic for his entire life. He saved his life multiple times with it. And before Merlin told him, he had never believed it could be true. He was too good. Too loyal. Too brave.
Before too long, they heard the gurgling of a river. When they reached the clear, pristine waters, they saw little fish swimming downstream, darts of silver against the dark backdrop of the riverbed. They saw that their path continued on the other side, but another branched off and followed the river.
"Which way, sire?" asked Leon, ever dutiful.
"It would be smarter to live by a river. I mean, fresh water, these fish we keep seeing. It must be this way," Arthur decided, pointing with his sword to the fork in the road.
"But, it would also be smart to live deeper in the trees and run less of a risk of people seeing you," interjected Gwen, pointing across the river.
"But everyone needs food," admonished Arthur.
"I'd bet he could kill anything with nothing but a muttered word," Gwen retaliated. Arthur nodded. They stood for several minutes, debating the topic, when there came a voice from across the river.
"Yoo hoo!" They all whipped around, and beheld a little old woman standing across the water with a plate covered with a towel. She looked innocent enough, about 5 feet tall, huge spectacles that magnified her eyes several times, and stark white hair pulled over her shoulder in a braid. She wore a flowered cardigan and a baby blue skirt. "Are you lost my dears?"
"Yes-" Gwen started to say, but Arthur interrupted.
"Are you the sorcerer?" The old woman looked at them a moment, then laughed lightly.
"Oh, no dear. My tongue would slip over all those funny words," she answered. "Hold on, son, let me come over." She bent over, and picked a bright yellow flower from in between strands of grass. They heard a deep rumbling sound from beneath their feet and the water in the river began quaking.
"What's happening?" yelled Gwaine, fear coloring his words.
"Don't worry!" called the old woman. "It's just the bridge!"
"Bridge?" Leon asked.
"Look!" called Gwen. Some of the stones from the riverbed were separating from the earth, and melding together, forming, as she said, a stone bridge leading across the water. She hopped merrily across, and the bridge collapsed, and the flower on the other bank grew back.
"If you're not a sorcerer, then what was that?" asked Gwaine, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Oh, just something the young man across the way set in for me. He's rather kind, brings me pot roast on Saturdays. I bring him snickerdoodles on Wednesdays. He let slip that they're his favorite over tea."
"Young man?" Leon inquired. "Snickerdoodles? What in the blazes is a snickerdoodle?" The old woman pulled the towel off of her plate to show some perfectly cooked biscuits sprinkled in sugar.
"And yes, there's a young man that lives just down the path," said the old woman, "He makes such wonderful things with his hands. He made me some golden birds for my birthday that chirp all by themselves. They like to fly about my rafters. They're real birds, but they're solid gold!" She grinned happily.
"So he's the sorcerer?" asked Arthur. The old woman squinted at him, pulled of her spectacles, wiped them off, put them back on and looked Arthur full in the face.
"Oh my heavenly days," she whispered, her mouth falling open. "You must be Arthur!" Arthur was rather taken aback at the sudden change of subject.
"Y-yes?" he spluttered. The old woman took him by the hand and started leading him down the path, the others in tow.
"I'm Megan," she giggled, flouncing hand in hand with Arthur. "Let me take you to your friends."
"Friends?"
"They were looking for you," she answered. "So I pointed them in the right direction. The young man that lives at the house appears to be away right now, but I'm sure he won't mind you staying there for a while."
"Why me?"
"Oh, he talked of you endlessly, telling unbelievable stories. Said he was your servant, back in the day." Arthur froze. So did the others. They exchanged shocked glances.
"Merlin?" gasped Gwen.
"He's still alive?" questioned Leon.
"Oh, yes. He celebrated his 2,542nd birthday a week ago." They all gaped at her. "I made him a cake, but couldn't find enough candles." She laughed again.
"But what do you mean by our friends?" asked Gwaine. "Who are you referring to?"
"Oh, the other knights and a very fine old physician." Megan smiled brightly at them. "Come now, I'll take care of you. Let's go find your friends."