Chapter 1: The Attack

ooooo Arthur ooooo

Arthur felt suffocated by the weight of his role as king. In the aftermath of the attack by Helios and Morgana, he had not had time to spare in the effort to rebuild. Sometimes, he felt as if was pulled in a thousand directions. He had lost control of his daily schedule. Training continued with his knights, but the rest of his days were a blur of meetings and information. Impromptu meetings turned into marathon sessions. But it had to be. Decisions needed to be made. All of it was vital. All of it needed his attention, and Arthur worked tirelessly.

After a long session in court,his mind and heart had reached their limits, but there was no surcease. His attention was mangled after hearing the petitions of a farmer whose wife had been killed in the attack, and three children to feed. His crops had burned. The youngest child had eyes that would haunt him when the night was long. They smote him with the reality of war and he hated it. The man had only requested seed grain to plant the new crop in the spring. He was followed by another woman seeking news of her husband, a cooper, who had been conscripted by Helios. She had no word of him. There was a consortium of carpenters, offering to mill wood in exchange for food, but they had no tools. His people needed him, and he gave himself no quarter. Their need was far worse than his.

The line was dwindling at last as the sun was low in the sky. There was still enough light for an afternoon ride, thought the king.

He looked up at Merlin who was standing, as always,by the pillar. His twinkling eyes were curious as he noted the change in Arthur's expression. The king gave a nod, his eyes gesturing at the light outside the window. Merlin's smile was only slightly surprised, as he exited quietly.

Arthur tried to focus on the last few minutes of the meeting about rebuilding the old Roman sluice gate of the town aqueduct. The project was in capable hands, merely needing his final approval. At last, he found himself moving down the corridor, the weight of his cares lightening with each step that brought him closer to his escape.

Just as he knew he would be, Merlin was waiting at the south gate with his favorite riding horse. With relief and an untrammeled joy, they sped through the gates of Camelot. Merlin and Arthur had just cleared a copse of trees and were heading out into the open moor, where the horses could really move. Arthur felt his heart lighten with every move of his horse. The wind of his passage stirred his hair and he drank in the fresh air. The late summer grass glowed gold in the sun. The shadows lengthened.

Off in the distance, he saw a dark figure where the trees met the pale gold borders of the moor. He pulled his horse up, the animal rearing slightly as Merlin slowed to a stop beside him.

"Let's turn back here, Merlin," he said loudly, wheeling his horse. He could see Merlin scanning the figure in the distance as well. Arthur noted that a hesitation that passed over his friends face and then an almost panicked expression. He turned to look back at the figure as well.

There was fireball headed towards him. The golden flames shot out at him at incredible speed, blazing an unnatural heat. The young king threw himself from his horse. But Merlin urged his horse forward, blocking the king behind him, and he flung himself from the saddle. As the servant's horse fled in terror, screaming it's distress, Merlin planted his feet and held out his hand in a defensive posture. His movement was sure and practiced. Arthur was still moving, scuttling forward near to the ground, when he saw the fireball recoil only inches from Merlin's outstretched hand. The fireball deformed slightly as it slammed into an invisible barrier. In that moment, Merlin's eyes flashed gold and in a surge of white, the blazing energy disappeared.

Arthur felt his heart lurch in despair. Merlin. Merlin had stopped his certain death from the fireball with magic. That thought pierced his still paralyzed heart. Merlin turned, his hands still held defensively outward, but with his eyes focused wholly on his friend. For a split second their eyes met.

Shock. Horror. Pain. Fear. Betrayal.

Merlin never saw the second blast that erupted from the exact spot where the fireball had dissipated. Gold lightning had blazed white as it engulfed him. Arthur saw the force of the blast lift his friend from the ground, although his hand was dropping from his defense of Arthur, it still took the first impact. Incredibly, Arthur saw Merlin force his hand downward, even as he was being flung away and discharge at least part of the blast energy into the earth. The glowing power flowed over him, rays of light exploding from his chest in circular pattern. Merlin's shirt smoked as he fell limply to the ground, his hand still jerking, sparkling with terrifying motes of golden energy.

Unable to understand, Arthur looked back at the dark figure in a distance. To his horror, the figure was only a a few yards away and it was Morgana. Before he could even take a breath, a second fireball erupted from her hand, but this one headed up higher and higher, exploding in a thunderous crash above his head.

"There is only one way to defeat a Pendragon!" Morgana's voice echoed through the trembling air, fierce as any war cry. "Break his heart!" The anger and venom in her voice skirled through the smell of sulfur, the stench of burning. And then she was gone, her figure disappearing into swirling wisps of darkness, as an evil wind blew up into the darkening golden skies.

"Merlin,", he shouted, but his servant didn't move. With his heart in his mouth, he turned him over as carefully as he could. Blood covered his chest, oozing through his rough blue shirt in the same pattern that he had seen etched in fire only moments before. His right hand was burned and raw, clawed and trembling still.

"Merlin," he called again, touching his face. Arthur saw Merlin's eyes were open, but he was already in deep in shock. He didn't even know what had happened to him. Arthur had been there.

The eyes that pleaded silently with Arthur were the familiar eyes of his only friend, his most loyal companion. Arthur flooded with pain. Merlin had magic. Merlin had saved him with magic. The world as he knew it had changed forever. Arthur did the only thing his heart could bear to accept. Nothing else really mattered. Not now. Not to him.

"Try not to move, Merlin," he hissed fiercely.