A/N: I have been busy lately, but I'll do my best to update at least once a week, most likely on Fridays. Hope you guys are enjoying the story.
Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. I also generally check out my stories for grammar and spelling mistakes, but if you find one please point it out.
Merlin was walking across the forest, the sound of his long strides slightly concealed by thick foliage on the ground, but still making enough noise to grasp attention of whoever or whatever was nearby.
Gaius had sent him to gather some herbs he needed, consciously giving him a chance to get away from the fuss of Camelot for a while, and he'd jumped at the opportunity to escape the mounting tension there for at least a couple of hours.
Once in a while, it wasn't Arthur who grated on his nerves with his constant biting, if friendly, insults, ridiculous assignments and overall childishness in what he had for breakfast and what he wanted to wear. Arthur was, ironically, a bright spot in the gloomy overpowering darkness.
It was Uther.
After Kilgarra's attack the king has become even more paranoid, if possible, about magic, and there was only so much a wizard could take before wishing to dash out of the door instead of listening to his everyday speeches. He talked about eradicating of magic, about killing off all the sorcerers because they were evil, about how he had had enough and how Camelot would be so better off without the damned witchcraft…
The usual stuff.
Ironically, though, he considered both Gaius and Merlin his closest and most faithful allies in this war. It wasn't too bad, actually.
The bad part was that as loyal and faithful allies they both found themselves at the receiving end of the king's solemn oaths more often than anyone. It was getting annoying. It was funny in a way, too.
But Merlin needed a break.
In his haste, however, happy to eventually get away and enjoying the calmness surrounding him, he didn't pay much attention to where he was going.
He now stared, ruefully, at the familiar tree he had obviously passed before.
The hunter skills Arthur has been trying so hard to drum into his head included, among everything else, the ability to recognize your surroundings and easily be able to find your way about.
Well, at least he mastered the first part. He did recognize that tree.
Too bad the second lesson was too much for him already.
Merlin really, really hated hunting.
Sighing, mumbling his thoughts aloud quietly so that at least one human voice could be heard in the savage forest, he went on. Having no other choice, as a matter of fact.
He pushed aside a momentary weird feeling of being pulled somewhere and just strode on.
The feeling wasn't so willing to let go of him, however, and the next thing he knew, he wasn't in the forest any longer.
He probably hasn't been there for some time already, because the realization descended on him gradually, as if awakening from a vivid dream in the morning. At first, you still think you are there, and it takes you several moments to come fully to awareness and realize that you are lying in your bed and it has only been in your head.
Merlin froze in place for an instant, startled, and looked around, warily, only to stop his gaze at two pairs of widely-opened eyes, watching him in identical disbelief and horror. The two boys, probably the same age as himself, and dressed in weird clothes.
"Who are you?' – he asked, understandably suspicious, but his inquisitive nature couldn't stay hidden away, so he was also curious.
They just stared at him, mutely, and he got the distinct impression they didn't even comprehend his question.
But then the dark-haired one turned sharply to another boy and yelled out:
"What have you done?!.."
They began yelling at each other, and he used these moments to glance briefly at the room he was in. Potions, probably magic ones, lit candles, the book with an odd symbol on it… The room obviously belonged to a sorcerer.
Suddenly excited, impatient to explore the rest of the house, he jogged to the door, forgetting all about being prudent and cautious and ignoring the quarreling youths, even as one of them shouted for him to stop.
Something warm, furry and alive darted from under his feet, but wasn't quick enough to dodge, and he was suddenly rolling, less than gracefully, down the stairs.
One of the steps rushed to meet his forehead, and he knew no more.
(---)
The first thing Merlin was aware of was that his head hurt. He groaned, bringing his hand to touch his forehead, and stilled immediately, sensing the unfamiliar texture beneath his fingers. It was similar to fabric, he supposed, but in some funny way was glued to his skin.
The memories flooded his head, and he opened his eyes groggily to find a pair of green ones staring at him nervously and somewhat guiltily.
"What is this thing?" – he asked instead of a greeting, pointing to the cloth. Very bright of you, Merlin.
The green eyes simply blinked at him, and the boy they belonged to answered, sounding surprised and a tiny bit cautious:
"It's a plaster."
Merlin watched him expectantly for a second, waiting for a more detailed explanation, but it never came, so he just said:
"Right. Is it magic?"
The boy blinked again:
"No."
More silence came. The guy coughed uneasily, then held out a palm with a little white round thing on it, along with a transparent cup full of water.
"Here, drink this… it's for your headache."
When Merlin only eyed the thing and the cup warily, the boy impatiently frowned at him.
"Come on, if we wanted to we could have done anything to you while you were knocked out!"
Merlin frowned back. The boy sent him a look, then sighed and put the cup and the unknown thing down.
"What do you want from me?" – Merlin asked, not nearly as frightened and troubled as he should have been, but still reasonably cautious.
Another boy entered the room, standing beside the first one, who didn't favour him with even a flicker of his attention.
"We need your help," - the green-eyed one confessed.
(---)
Merlin honestly thought his head was going to explode thanks to the flood of information the two brothers – Wyatt and Chris? – have fed him. For some time he had no words to express what he thought about them and their plan in particular, but…
"You can't be really expecting me to help you!"
The two paused in their speech to look at him, astonished, and he continued, fervently:
"Excalibur is meant for only one person to wield, and, last time I checked, you weren't Arthur! You can't really think that I'll merely give such a powerful weapon to a person I've never seen before, not to mention to the person who has all but abducted me from my home!"
"I resent that!" – Wyatt protested indignantly.
"It was an accident!" – Chris seconded.
Wyatt went on, looking anxious to get his point across:
"Besides, Excalibur has chosen me! I've pulled it out of the stone myself, and it would only let its heir do that!"
"Liar! Excalibur has been buried on the bottom of the lake, no stones involved, and, regardless of what you say, it would still allow an evil man take it and use its power… Uther is the proof of that!"
Chris shrugged, insistent:
"You've just probably not enchanted it to serve only its true heir yet. Our Excalibur recognizes none but one owner."
Merlin glared at them, his eyes narrowed:
"So you expect me to simply believe it and help you find it? What if it has been lost for centuries already, and you are villains who want to use it to your advantage and are merely trying to trick me?.."
(---)
Chris was getting more and more exasperated. It was proving to be much harder than he had thought.
For a guy torn out of his timeline Merlin seemed oddly calm and accepted the fact that he was in the future with a surprising ease.
However, it turned out to be next to impossible to persuade the sorcerer that they weren't going to abuse Excalibur's power. Chris has run out of arguments already, and so, apparently, has Wyatt.
The gift from the magic beings from yesterday, a white winged cat that Chris quickly became friends with, entered the room, graceful and dignified, to jump lightly onto the witch's lap. He rubbed the soft ear absently, absorbed by his thoughts.
What should they do now?