Hi everyone. I am so sorry this took me so long. Life got in the way as usual. Hopefully I won't make you wait so long for the next chapter. Thanks to everyone who has read and or reviewed this story. You guys are the best.

Exhaustion. That was all Merlin felt as he begrudgingly came back to the land of the living. Exhaustion, and curiously enough, sand. Slowly opening his eyes, Merlin Immediately snapped them shut again when the sun nearly burned a whole right through his sockets. Thinking that opening his eyes away from the sun was a good idea, the young warlock maneuvered himself into a sitting position and tried again. This time he was greeted by a vast expanse of blue. A bright blue sky attached to an equally blue ocean.

"Where on earth am I?" he declared to the blueness. "And how the bloody hell did I get here." As if answering his question, a giant gray-black fin popped out above the sea followed by a spout of water that shot straight into the air. Merlin gazed in wonder at the sea creature he had only ever glimpsed in books. "A summoning spell!" the boy proclaimed. The great beast must have answered the call of his magic.

"Thank you!" cried Merlin while waving. That must have been the correct response because as though waiting for his cue the fin dipped down below the water and did not come back into view. Seeing as that was taken care of, Merlin was now faced with a much harder question; Now what?

He was currently standing on a beach with no idea of where he was or how to get home. Truth be told, those little details didn't concern him much. For the better part of a month he had been practicing locator spells and he was fairly certain he could pull one off. No, his main worry was the dream he had had while he was dozing on the sand. His vision involved a trapped Prince Arthur at the mercy of a large ferocious looking animal and Arthur never regained the upper hand. In the past, Merlin would have chalked it all up to a terrible nightmare and leave it at that, but after having come to know Morgana and the frightening events her dreams predicted, the young warlock began to pay much closer attention to his own.

So as it was, getting home wasn't the problem. The main problem now was how to find Arthur, and how to save his pratish hide once he did. Seeing as his problems were not going to solve themselves, Merlin made his way over to the tree line at the edge of the beach.

"Of course he would end up in danger while I'm away." He thought aloud after a short while, "Can't he ever just…" Merlin stopped abruptly and flattened himself to the forest floor he was now traversing. He heard voices. Gruff voices and considering his luck he felt caution was the best way to go. He ever so slowly crept forward and peeked his head over a log. He saw three men sitting by a newly made fire while a horse grazed the grass around the tree it was tethered to. Judging by the looks of things, Merlin guessed it was a stolen horse.

"Oy, ain't this a beauty of a pony we pilfered today?" boasted the bandit closest to the horse. He was the tallest of the three with a patch over his left eye. Sometimes Merlin really hated it when he is right.

"Yeah she's a beauty alright," replied the man currently sitting on a log. "Why don't we keep her instead of tradin her in? My feet are achin something horrible." To prove his point he pulled off each of his boots and threw them by the fire.

The third man, who was about half foot shorter than the first bandit, still appeared to be the clear leader of the group. He was broad chested and his satnce was calm, cool and confident and the long sword at his hip gave him all the menacing look Merlin needed to be weary. "Keep those shoes off and the poor horse'll die of the stench before she makes it to market." He said grinning like a wild cat. "She's worth far more to us by sellin her rather than keepin her. Besides who do you thinks gonna ride her, you?"

"Well we could take turns," replied Barefoot.

Longsword let out a low chuckle, "5 minutes and you two dunderheads'll be arguing over who's turn it is."

"It was just a thought," pouted Barefoot.

Thinking now was as good a time as ever, Merlin made his move. "Avantey" he whispered.

"Hey did you see that!" cried Barefoot.

"See what?" said Longsword.

"The boots! They moved!"

Longsword gave his companion an incredulous look, "Are you out of your head?" Just as he said this though, the boots jumped. "That's down right peculiar. Go on then, check 'em out."

Barefoot looked less than enthusiastic but he inched his way closer anyhow. Noticing his hesitation, Longsword taunted "Don't tell me you're afraid of your own boots."

Barefoot gave no answer but he continued moving forward. He crept closer and closer until…

BAM!

The left boot kicked him square in the face so hard that his head slammed against the ground and knocked him out cold. Bandit number three who had been passively watching the event from the horse's side rushed over to his fallen comrade. " I'll wrangle em'." He lunged for the boots managing to grab hold of the right foot. It twisted and wriggled in his hands, and then he smiled triumphantly as he believed he had it under control. Unfortunately for him, the left boot came round and kicked him in the rear throwing him into the fire. He jumped out quickly and moving at top speed he scrambled away from the camp screaming, "Demon boots! Demon boots!"

"Get back here you bloody coward!" screamed Longsword but it was useless. Number three was already out of sight. "I'll show you demon boots." At this point Longsword actually took out his sword and began swiping at the beguiling footwear. He began to swipe so furiously that Merlin had to stifle a laugh as it looked like some sort of comedic dance. With just the glow of his golden eyes, he sent the bandits sword flying into the dirt and then let the boots take care of the rest. By the time they were done, Longsword was running into the forest, the boots chasing after him.

"Well that went better than expected." Merlin said as he popped out of the bushes. To be honest, he had expected to be found out and skewered like a wild boar so anything short of that was a success. Moving over to the camp, he first picked up the discarded sword and then mounted the horse. "Now to find Camelot."

A little ways up the path Merlin came to a fork in the road. It was finally time to see if all his practice paid off. " Gidasi pastrell Camelot ye commen." Success! A golden light visible, he knew, only to his sight lighted the path to the right and continued down the trail. "Hang on a little longer Arthur. I'm coming."

So surprise, surprise, Merlin is alive after all. Still poor Arthur doesn't know that so he still has a funeral to go to.

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