Author's Note:

Okay, here's the first chapter, I'm actually really excited about this one, so I hope you enjoy it too.

Please, review/Follow/Favorite, I'd like to know what you think of the story so far so please review, I don't mind constructive criticism.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1: When Lightning Strikes

-February 14th, 1020

The dawn brought a cold, February morning. Merlin's breath hung in the air like tendrils of smoke. The morning sun broke only by the sharp, point of the tower, made the lake shimmer like diamonds striking its surface. The trees, covered in frost, were bare; any leaves that may have clung to them had gone by the coming of October.

Something tugged at Merlin's heart strings. He hated this place, it hurt too much. Memories clung to it, like the ivy that climbed tower's walls. The memories of the people he'd lost; Freya, Lanselot and finally…..Arthur. Merlin had never been able to shake away the feeling that he'd failed them. That he'd failed Camelot.

Camelot, Merlin sighed, after Arthur died he'd never returned, he'd seen no point. But, now, as he looked over the lake, he came to regret that decision. He had, had friends there, not just Arthur, but Leon and Percival too, not to forget Gwen and Gaius; Gaius after all had been like a father to him. Merlin shook his head, whatever had possessed him to leave and not return? Greif, or was it fear?

A tear trickled down his face, as he pulled his coat around him. He wanted to scream but no noise came out, he wanted to pound the ground, but all he could do was stand there, shivering.

Why was he here again? He didn't know, because he was right, this place was too painful. It was as though something in his subconscious had wanted him to be there, even though every other atom in his body did not. Whatever it was had drawn him to this place, no matter how painful it might be. Maybe it was his magic, he was a servant of the Old Religion and this was Avalon, so something to do with that must have pulled him here, but why? Was something going to happen here? Something, important, something that he, Emrys had to see?

Merlin sat down; the ground was cold, hard. He wrapped an arm round his knees and tenderly placed a hand on the ground. Slowly, he splayed his fingers, eyes closed, reaching out; his breathing steady. Underneath the lids his eyes glowed orange.

Then he sagged. Nothing, the magic here was the same as it had always been. Merlin closed his eyes against yet another painful memory.

He shivered, beginning to feel cold, very cold. Jumping up he began to bounce, his magic tingling inside him, helping.

Then, without warning, it happened. Merlin was knocked down by some invisible force. Lying with his back flat to the ground, he opened his eyes. Clouds covered the sky, deathly black they billowed over the sun, smothering it and in that brief moment it became night again. Or, so it looked. The clouds were so dark, so thick.

As merlin looked on, he became aware of a slow pulsing, the clouds were pulsing! Power pumped through them, like blood to the hart. This was the work of the Old Religion, Merlin could feel it, and he could also feel that it wasn't very happy, angry even. They had angered it.

It began to rain, pelting Merlin's face and body, soaking him in seconds. Getting up, he put his palm to his forehead (the magic used in doing this was giving him a full on headache) and, blinking against the rain, as he took another look up to the sky.

"Oh hell!" he cursed, he'd never seen a storm like it, short, sharp, bursts of light sizzled from one cloud to the next, like they were feeding the great beasts, as each cloud seemed to be gaining in size by the second.

The frost that had covered the trees was gone, swept away by the rain that bombarded Avalon, like miniature bombs, banishing the diamonds that minuets ago had danced on the lake's surface. The land looked dead, blues and whites had been replaced with solemn blacks and browns, which covered Avalon obscuring it and all its beauty.

Abruptly Merlin took a step back.

Just for a moment it had been there, lightning that had made for the water, slicing through it like a dagger.

Then again, closer this time, Merlin shielded his eyes from the light, within seconds a third.

And that's when Merlin realised. The bolts were making for the tower.

"N…NO!" His voice shook, there was nothing he could do, not against this, then came the forth strike. Merlin was blown off his feet, and when he landed, Avalon was no more.

- September 27th, almost a millennium later.

"Merlin" A voice had woken him. It had whispered urgency, and now, as Merlin stared up at Glastonbury Tor, he began to wonder why. Avalon had lost all its magical properties long ago, but looking at it now he was surprised at how little it had changed. Of course the lake had gone, Glastonbury had long since lost any high ground that may have supported water, but the tower on the other hand….

"Ahh, Glastonbury Tor!" A man stood by his side, he too examining the grate hill that stood before them. He was old, not as old as Merlin, obviously, but then who was. Merlin nodded, a little shocked at the sudden interruption of his thoughts; the man in question had turned his attention away from the Tor and was now polishing a button on his coat, seemingly disinterested in the towering hill that stood before him.

"Come here often." It wasn't a question, more of an observation, but the man answered anyway.

"Oh yes, all the time I like places of historical value, they keep me at peace with the world, something that most people your age just don't appreciate." Merlin gave him a short, sideways look, as he tried to hold back a sarcastic comment that had just entered his head. The man supposedly hadn't noticed the pained expression on his face, as he continued speaking. "How about you, have you been here before?"

"Well I -"

"No I don't suppose you have." The man said, giving no time for Merlin to answer the question. "A bit young aren't you for this sort of stuff? Shouldn't you be skate boarding or whatever you kids do these days?" Merlin frowned.

"I'm twenty eight." or at least that was the age he had been when he'd left Camelot. The man adjusted his spectacles.

"Oh, well, you look younger." Merlin allowed himself a smile. If only he knew by how much.

"Oh it wasn't a compliment." The man said, catching Merlin's expression. "With age brings wisdom." Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"It also brings wrinkles." He answered trying not to laugh at the man's expression.

"Yes well," he said, a little bemused. "I don't suppose you know what that's called." Merlin frowned, was this man feeling the need to prove himself?

"It's St. Michael's Tower," Merlin said, he had picked up a leaflet at the local tourist centre.

"Yes that's right, it's an old church, built sometime in the 14th century, though they think the design may have come from an earlier tower the once stood there."

"Oh," The man seemed pleased with the reply, and without saying another word, he marched off head held high.

Not that Merlin took any notice, he was too busy staring at the tower, it all made sense now. He had wondered how the old tower had endured through the storm. Upon seeing it today he had supposed only its turret had been knocked off, though had wondered why, with the force of that blast, no more damage had been done.

"Merlin" A voice broke through his thoughts "Merlin" There it was again. He was closer to it now than he was this morning, it was louder. "Merlin" The voice belonged to a woman, Merlin thought he recognised it, it triggered a memory deep inside him, but Merlin couldn't think who it was. "Merlin," He began to home in on it, walking closer to the Tor, he could see a figure now; they were wearing a purple, silk dress they're hair fell perfectly below their shoulders. And in that instant, his heart leapt.

"Freya?" He ask, not sure if he should believe it or not. The figure nodded, and Merlin, trying not to cry ran towards her, opening his arms ready to hug her, but as he did so, he fell forward. Looking up, he could see Freya had tears in her eyes.

"Merlin I'm not really here." She sobbed, Merlin wanted to touch her, reassure her. But he couldn't. He half reached out his hands, and then, realising that it was no use, put them to his forehead, heart bursting. A tear rolled down Freya's cheek.

"Hey, it's ok," Merlin said, sniffing, but a he had a lump in his throat, then he swallowed, trying to calm himself down.

"Merlin I've missed you." Her arms twitched, as though they wanted to reach out to him.

"I've missed you too" Merlin's voice shook, but he smiled all the same. She sat down, Merlin followed her lead, but as he did so, he noticed a rose in her hand. "Remember when I gave you that strawberry?" He said nervously and she smiled, playing with the rose.

"Merlin I'm proud of you"

"How? I failed Arthur, I failed Camelot." He sighed, voicing for the first time what had been deep inside him for so long.

"You haven't"

"Freya I have, I was supposed to protect Camelot's king, I was supposed to protect my friend," He looked down, not wanting to look her in the eye. "I failed."

"Merlin look at me," Her voice was soft, he forced himself to look and holding his gaze she said, "You haven't failed them, not yet." Merlin stared at her. Whatever could she mean?

Then Freya let out a gasp.

"Merlin we have little time left. When the waters drained from Avalon I gave the sword to someone, so to protect it, for I could no longer. They're name was Godric Gryffindor, you must find it, and bring it to the Isles of the Blessed, when the veil between this world and the spirit world is at its weakest. On the stroke of midnight you must use your magic to force it into the ground and only if you complete that will Arthur return. After this is done, you have seventy five days to convince the Old Religion to stay, otherwise, on the anniversary of Avalon's death the world will be no more." Freya finished.

"Thank you" He whispered.

"No it was the least I could do." She smiled, her shape was thinning out, Merlin could almost see through her. "One last thing the sword will not look as it did in Arthur's time, only when it is reunited with its true master will it take its original form. Good luck Merlin, I know one day, we will meet again."

She disappeared, tears threatening to fill Merlin's eyes; he began to take in the news. She must have meant Samhain, the time when we are closest to our ancestors. He remembered when Morgana had used that day to bring a plague of the dead upon the world. This was going to be dangerous, but then what did he have to lose?

Merlin began walking; ever since the storm he had been able to feel the earth's clock coming to an end, and for the first time, he had the power to do something to stop it.

Finally, October the 1st. Harry sighed with happiness, he hadn't felt so excited in a long time, the ministry had allowed the four of them extra time off work, and they were all ready for four weeks in the sun. Harry smiled Canary Islands in Spain, a place where it seemed to be sunny all of the time, he felt like a little kid again, nothing, and he meant nothing, could stop him from going on this holiday.

It was a cold October day, the sun, that still managed to shine through the trees, reflected off Ron's new, muggle car, that in a few hours they would be driving to the air port in.

The four of them sat in the kitchen drinking tea, suit cases already in the car. Harry could feel the excitement buzzing around the room.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"Who could that be?" Ginny asked, a frustration in her voice, they were just about to leave, they didn't need this! She got up and walked over to the door.

"Yes?" Harry could hear her asking, "What?" A pause, "If you're trying to sell something we're not interested!" Another pause, "Who are you…No really?" and then, "Fine, you can speak to my husband, but quickly mind we have to leave in half an hour."

Ginny walked in, a young man in his late twenties or early thirties trailing behind her.

"He thinks he's merlin," she said, sarcasm in her voice.

"Right?….." Ron was the first to speak; he didn't seem to hold well with what he called 'nutters'.

"Ron! Hermione hissed." She got to her feet and stood closer to the strange man.

"Is everything okay, do you need help?" The man gave her a look as if to say,' I'm not a baby,' and opened his mouth.

"In actual fact, I do." He looked at Harry. "You're Harry Potter aren't you?"

"What do you want?" Harry shot.

"I'm Merlin-" The man began.

"Sure you are!" Ron cut in. 'Merlin' shook his head.

"This is important!"

"Oh has the Loch Ness Monster escaped?"

"I don't know maybe we should check down the plug hole?" Their visitor spat back gesturing at Ron's head.

"Ron let him speak or we'll miss our flight!" said Ginny.

"Thank you," The so called 'Merlin' said, "as I was saying, I'm Merlin and I know it's hard to believe-" he paused and then blurted out "but I am the real Merlin. I've come here because I need your help; the Old Religion is leaving the earth, and -"

"We saw Merlin at Dumbledore's funeral," Harry said "he's an old man." He remembered Hagrid pointing the wizard out to him.

"I use something called an aging spell for public events." 'Merlin' rolled his eyes, "If you don't believe me then-"

"Why?" Harry said trying to speed the conversation up.

"What?"

"Why use an aging spell, why not turn up like this?"

"To keep out of the public eye, stop people asking questions; so I can live my life in peace."

"Show us."

"I don't -" He seemed unsure.

"Show us or you're out!" said Ron, losing his patience.

"Fine then." He placed his hands in front of him, staring straight forward; his voice deepening. He spoke in a language Harry had never heard before. "Miht dagena, bepecce me. Adeaglie pisne gast min freondum ond min freondum!" For a moment the man's eyes flashed orange. Harry took a long, hard breath; composing himself.

"So this Old Religion, is it important?"

The man that now stood before him was old; wrinkles covered his bare skin, his hair was white and brittle, and when he spoke, his voice shook.

"Important? Oh yes."