I'm back! Finals are over, party time! Sorry for the long wait, everyone. This may be a bit shorter than other chapters, but it's just to set the tone. I'll try to update regularly, at least once a week.
Dark Arts
More and more people fall ill. There are further still more deaths. The streets of Camelot are nearly empty, with the people too fearful of going outside. The Lower Town is all nearly deserted, children no longer let outside. Those in the Upper Town is wary and ventured outdoors only if need be. The physician's chambers are filled to the brim with dying and moaning and the sick.
Merlin and Nimueh assist Gaius in any way they can. They've tested the water for poison; there was none. They checked the food, but no poison was there either. So they do what they can: providing water, kind words, and blessings for the ill. If the patients arrive soon enough, before the mysterious marks appear, Nimueh can usually heal them and send them on their way home with orders not to go outside.
Whatever is plaguing Camelot is spreading not through food or water, but through air, permeating the kingdom.
Every book in Gaius's possession had been read, re-read, and tossed across the room in frustration. Whatever the ailment caused by the marks were, there was no remedy to be found in the medical books, nor the spell books.
When Merlin trudges to the front door to leave that evening, he spots Nimueh closely examining the dark marks.
"What is it?" Merlin asks.
"We've been ignorant, look," Nimueh says, calling Merlin closer, "look closely. There are little patterns within the marks, symbols or letters, a message."
"What does it mean?" Merlin asks.
The Priestess scowls, "If I knew that I'd tell you. Go home Merlin, I'll stay with Gaius."
Merlin blinks in surprise and nods, bidding her farewell.
When he arrives back in the castle, Morgana's still awake, waiting for him. Fabrics are perched precariously on the table, with what was supposed to be part of her wedding dress. Due to the sickness plaguing Camelot, the wedding has been postponed. She's sitting at her desk, writing quickly, and looks up when he enters.
"Merlin," she greets with a soft smile. He leans down and presses a quick kiss on the top of her forehead.
"How are things going?" she asks, watching him pull off his shirt and trousers, kicking the dark fabric to a corner of the room. Would it kill him to pick his clothes up?
"More people are getting sick. Nimeuh thinks she found something, she's staying with Gaius for the night," Merlin sits at the edge of the bed, long gangly legs swinging back and forth.
"Do you think it could be magic? A spell or something?" she suggests, standing up. She rolls up the parchment and blows out the candle.
"Something more powerful than normal magic," he murmurs and leans onto the bed.
Morgana unties her dressing gown and hangs it on the screen, curling next to him on the bed. She brushes his hair off his face and kisses him goodnight.
Uther is back in his chambers, picking at his breakfast. Gwen, the maidservant, brings him his meals. She doesn't speak much but always offered a soft, pitying smile.
"Why do you do this?" Uther asks her this morning.
"Arthur, the king, asked me to," she answers easily.
"Do you despise me like the rest?" he asks, referring to his children and the people of Camelot.
She turns from her task of making the bed, eyes narrowing.
"You had my father executed." There is a pause and her brow furrows. "No, I do not despise you."
"He was not the sorcerer," Uther says numbly, remembering his actions. So rash, so unreasonable.
"Is there anything else you need?" she asks with a tight smile.
"No, thank you. Please leave."
Gwen nods and scurries out of the room, frowning. What right did Uther Pendragon have to make her feel guilty? He was most tyrannical king in all the five kingdoms, and here she is, feeling sorry for him. An old man whose children only held him with disdain. He once had everything, now lost.
Nimueh throws the book at Merlin, who catches it just in time. They, Arthur, and Morgana are assembled in the meeting hall.
"I found this at the Isle. I knew there were inscriptions, symbols on the marks those people had," she sounds haughty, but worry etches her voice.
"What do those symbols mean?"
"They're a name, a mark of ownership. Souls claimed for the taking. Helle. The Underworld, or the Otherworld, whatever you may call it," her voice is low and she looks around the table. Everyone present appears worried, and rightfully so.
"It is the god of Helle doing this. Spreading disease, claiming lives as his slaves," Nimueh finishes.
"All those people, that little boy," Merlin's eyes widen.
"How, though? How is this even possible?" Arthur asks.
The Priestess narrows her eyes, "The veil has been broken, the wall separating the living from the dead has vanished."
"How?" Morgana asks.
Nimueh looks at Morgana and Merlin, face unreadable, "Realities and time have been shattered because of changed destinies."
Morgana immediately clutches Merlin's hand tightly.
"I'm sorry," she actually looks apologetic, "if I had known this would happen," she shakes her head.
"What would happen?" Arthur asks, incredibly confused.
He's interrupted from further interrogation when Sir Leon runs in, "Sire, it's your father."
Arthur stands and glances warily at the warlocks before rushing behind them.
"You did this!" Morgana yells at Nimueh.
"No! I did not. The price for the spell was supposed to be that no one remembered, but somehow, the pair of you had your memories! I didn't know that your remembering and altering history would do this. I was so careful, I wrote out a new prophecy and everything. I am genuinely sorry," Nimueh's blue eyes are wide and worrisome, words defensive. For a moment she looks every bit the young woman's appearance she has, instead of the decades old sorceress lying behind the facade.
Morgana calms down and Merlin's arm wraps around her waist.
"So what does this mean?" Merlin asks. There's no use to yell at the High Priestess now. What's done is done.
"Reality is collapsing, the barriers between the worlds are weak-"
"So we have to ride into hell," Merlin says.
Morgana gasps when Nimueh nods slowly.
"Then so be it," Merlin's blue eyes are steely and cold, so different from their usual tone, that he actually resembles Nimueh.
Arthur sits by his father, who has taken a seat next to the window, looking out into the courtyard. He stares out absently, shivering. His food has been thrown across the room along with a goblet of water and wine. The wine slides down the stone walls like blood.
"What is the matter?" Arthur asks gently.
"It's the witch. It's her that's doing this," Uther looks extremely paranoid.
"Nimueh is helping us try to find out what's going on, father. Camelot will be safe once more," the king tries to explain.
He nods his head and continues to stare out the window.
It's not brimstone and fire like she imagined. It's dark and so cold she can feel the heat escaping her body. She reaches for Merlin's hand and he holds it tightly. A torch is in each of their hands, leading them to the darkest dimensions of the Underworld. Nimueh is reciting a spell, a chant for protection and Merlin and Morgause join in. Morgana whispers the words, chest constricting. How would a protection spell protect them from the most vile god in all the worlds?
Her mind immediately fills with despair and lost memories. Merlin poisoning her. Her taking the throne. Her hurting everyone. Aithusa saving her. The final battle at Cammlan. Waking up in the late 20th century with no memories of the past whatsoever. Thinking she was insane because of her visions and memories seeping back. Meeting Merlin again. Falling in love. Making a deal with Nimueh. Waking up in Camelot as if nothing had changed. Meeting a boy with bright blue eyes and remembering. It was all their fault that they have to do this, walk into hell. They've crossed the veil and are walking further still. A feeling of dread enters her body and she watches as one-by-one her friends and family vanish before her very eyes. She's left alone in her rightful place.
She opens her eyes in a panic, panting and crying. Merlin's arms wrap around her immediately and she cries into his shoulder, chest heaving.
"Please don't leave me," she begs.
"Never again. I promised, didn't I?" he asks her with a soft smile.
She shakes her head, "It was terrible, Merlin. You all left me there, just vanished into thin air."
"That's not going to happen," Merlin says firmly and hugs her closer to him, kissing her hair.
"What if it does?"
"It won't. Where you go, I go," he says with conviction.
They wrap their arms around each other and are unable to sleep for the rest of the night. They leave at dawn.
Thank you for reading and please review. Suggestions? Comments? Anything you want to say?