To those reading this after the computer meltdown that led to my hiatus, this is the SECOND chapter I've updated since I've stopped, so if you haven't read Chapter Fourteen yet, go do that now!
Chapter fifteen:
"Go get help, Lora!" Atora commanded, and the servant rose to her feet, sprinting back toward the hall from which they've just escaped. Atora raced to her friend's side, feeling her wounded neck for a pulse.
"Come-on, Gwen…"
She felt it, weak, and present. She breathed a sigh of relief. Behind her, the boy began shifting slowly in place. He groaned again. He was gonna be alright.
Atora pulled a lace out of her hair, and tore off the bottom of her skirt. She began tying them around Gwen's injuries, feeling the tears surging, disobedient, down her face.
"You cannot befriend a person and then die on them," She whispered, wiping the salty drops. Someone had told her that sentence before. It seemed such a long time ago…
You cannot make me love you and then die on me.
Her hands worked methodically, running over the burnt cloth, the scorched skin. "Do you remember the boy I told you about?" She asked in a whisper, her voice barely carrying the distance to the older girl's unconscious ears. She couldn't see what she was doing. Tears filled her vision, and she brushed them away. "He asked me to marry him once." She giggled. It came out hysterical, but she didn't stop. She couldn't. She had not known Gwen for long, but the servant already knew more about her then anyone else ever did. Atora remembered her motherly hazel eyes, and wished her friend would look at her again, and tell her everything was going to be all right. "He took me to a tall hill, at sunset, at spring, when the flowers were blooming and the birds were singing to each other before night fell. He wouldn't tell me why, but I followed, anyway. There were butterflies and bees and the sky was so colorful it looked like a mixture of water and fire. We sat down on the soft, tall grass between the lilacs and the dandelions, eating spring fruit and laughing. He couldn't stop looking at me, and I couldn't stop looking at him. I've never loved another person as much in my life. The crickets were starting to wake, and as the sun disappeared over the cliff edge he kissed me, and when I opened my eyes there was a necklace in my lap, made of a simple black ribbon with the most beautiful, worthless stone at the end." She felt the older girl dying under her fingers, and tightened the makeshift bandages as much as she could, tearing more scraps off her dress, her hands red with blood. "It was huge. Red, and orange, and yellow- like the sun, like the sky, like fire. He put it over my head and all I could do was gape at him. He smiled and kissed me and it was the best moment of my life. And then he asked me, in that sweet, gentle voice of his- if I would-"
"My lady?"
"Are they alright?"
"Move back, lady, let me see her…"
People swarmed in, their faces covered in ash. The dragon must have reached the hall. Atora gazed through her tears at Lora, small, fragile Lora, who stood shaking near the wall, too scared to cry.
"Will they be ok?" Atora asked, but the healers who had come were too busy to answer. "Will she be ok?" She asked, more quietly, feeling her chest tightening and her jaw set, blinking against the on slaughter of tears, unable to look away.
"Your father is searching for you, my lady," Lora told her, her voice uneven. "Everyone has moved underground. King Uther has sent knights to vanquish the dragon. It's destroying the city," She finished, her voice growing deathly quiet. The two girls looked one at the other, Atora's hazel eyes meeting Lora's blue ones.
"What of the people?" Atora asked. "The city folk?"
Lora gave her a helpless look.
"I don't know."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Merlin had spent what felt like years trying to find his way through the labyrinth of doors and corridors and lit torches.
He stuck to the walls, glanced carefully around corners, remained as quiet as his numb leg and hand would allow so as to be able to hear anyone coming up behind him. He limped pathetically down the stretching halls, arriving nowhere, certain he was walking in circles, the pain all over his body increasing as the long minutes passed and the spell wore off.
He had no energy to reinforce it.
On the third time he's walked by the door with the scorch marks, he decided to stop wondering aimlessly and figure out a plan.
It would have certainly helped, if he could remember being brought to the cell in the first place.
But he couldn't. He couldn't remember anything. Nothing good, and nothing bad. And whenever he'd try to think about it, his brow would fill with cold sweat, his hands would shake, his lungs refuse to function. And he'd be overflowed with a terrible, terrible fear that made his blood run cold and his hair to stand.
The last thing he did remember was taking a break from helping the prince with his preparations. Had Arthur's birthday past already? Did he even notice Merlin was gone?
"-no sorcerer. He's too much of a buffoon."
Merlin froze, half a step from the next corridor.
Arthur.
"Why did you say you were looking for Merlin?"
Lancelot?
Feeling his feet screaming in protest, he leaned heavily on the wall, trying to calm his heaving chest.
"I doubt he'd get far. He was not in the best of conditions, last time I saw him."
Amaroe.
Merlin allowed his body to drop slowly to the floor, resting his cheek on the cold stone. He was boiling hot, though the nearest torch was a few feet away. How did Arthur get there? How did Lancelot? Wasn't he supposed to be somewhere away from all this mess, from Camelot?
"What are you holding us here for?"
Merlin glanced at his leg. "Holding"…
He could probably stand on it for a few more minutes before it fell off.
He pulled himself up using a nearby doorknob, distractedly wondering where the door led. He tried not to hiss as his bad foot hit the wall and pain shoot through it. His spell wouldn't last much longer. Clearly the one he'd cast on Amaroe's guards was long gone. The men where now headed in the other direction, after a potion of some sort. Merlin swallowed, forcing himself into a standing position. He stumbled toward the nearest torch, pulling it with difficulty off the wall and killing the flame on the stone beneath his feet.
It wasn't too heavy to lift.
Merlin used it as a cane as he walked toward the corner, glancing behind it as carefully as he could to the conversation being held there.
Arthur and Lancelot were tied a few feet away, facing him, their hands behind their backs and the ropes connected to the other wall. Amaroe stood alone before them, his back to Merlin.
He turned to hide around the corner again.
"-sorcery is evil and wicked, and that anyone that has ever used it cannot be considered human, or even beast- they're monsters creatures that should be destroyed."
Merlin positioned his feet as best he could, strengthening his hold on the wood. He was really starting to dislike Amaroe.
"I fear that if you were to become king, you'd destroy everything your father has worked so hard to buil-"
"Excuse me," He said, watching with pleasure as Amaroe turned, surprised, in his direction.
Then he jumped forward, propelling the club as powerfully as he could against Amaroe's smirking head.
Merlin landed on his side by the force of the blow, his foot having collapsed midway though. He couldn't help feeling a sick satisfaction as Amaroe's body crumbled to the floor and blood begun springing out of the back of his scalp.
"…Merlin?" Arthur managed, his mouth ajar.
Merlin used his good hand to wrestle his shattered body up.
"Sire," He greeted Arthur, rushing toward the two tied prisoners, thankful for the adrenalin in his blood "I suppose you came to my rescue."
"We did," Arthur said, staring at him. "But… you're-"
"Well, thank you," Merlin said. "Really. Thanks a lot."
"You were…"
"Lancelot? How did you get here?"
Lancelot gaped, as Merlin started working on the ties behind his back. "I- I thought you were-lost?…!"
"Merlin! Behind you!"
Merlin glanced back, and then ducked, feeling every inch of his body object the idea. The rock that had been thrust his way hit the opposite wall loudly, leaving marks on the stone. Amaroe's two guards stood at the entrance to the corridor, using their magic to pull chunks of rock from the walls.
He cursed.
"Merlin, did you just curse?" Arthur asked, slightly overwhelmed. Last time he's seen Merlin, the boy could barely utter a sound, never mind curse.
"Yeah, well, I'm not in the best of moods at the moment, sire," Merlin replied, glanced fearfully at the guards, before racing back to the ties, straining to untie them clumsily with one hand.
"Watch out!"
Another boulder was sent toward him, and Merlin dropped to the floor to avoid being hit. The guards were walking slowly down the hall, toward them, as Amaroe begun to steer. It almost seemed as if without his instructions, they weren't too sure what to do…
"Ah… Merlin?" Lancelot asked, straining to look back at where Merlin was busy with the ropes around his arms.
"Hmm?"
"Why the hell are you using one hand?" He hissed, trying to avoid the shreds of exploding stone.
Arthur turned his gaze back to the others, and frowned, noticing Merlin's fumbling hand.
"I…" Merlin coughed, his hand flimsy. "…am challenging myself to work with my right arm in stressful situations."
"What?" Arthur demanded.
"This certainly counts as a stressful situation," Lancelot agreed weakly, his eyes following the nearing guards.
Arthur cursed loudly, watching Amaroe rise on both elbows, looking around in dazed confusion.
"Merlin, whatever you're doing, hurry up! He's waking," Arthur hissed at both of them, trying to free his arms himself.
Once he's realized what was going on, Amaroe turned to his guards, outraged. "What are you waiting for?" He screamed at them. "Capture him!"
The two paused, and then begun hurrying toward the scene, throwing boulders as they went.
"Is your hand hurt?" Lancelot asked Merlin diplomatically.
"Something like tha-" Merlin, busy with the ties, felt a particularly large rock hit his side and tumbled to the floor senselessly.
"Merlin! Merlin?"
He pushed himself upwards, gasping, eyes tearing. "I'm… fine, just… technical... difficulties."
Lancelot took a large breath, glancing from the panicked Arthur to Merlin, wrestling his broken body up. They were all going to die, unless…
"…Merlin, Arthur knows."
"Knows what?" Merlin forced himself to his knees, again attacking the ties around Lancelot's arms.
"About you," Lancelot glanced at the prince, who suddenly grew still.
"What about me?"
"Your…"
"What?"
"Magic."
There was silence. Arthur stared at Merlin, waiting fearfully for the boy's reaction.
The guards had reached them, and now stood side by side, their arms raised in the air. Lancelot felt his heart pounding in his chest.
"What about magic?" Merlin said finally, his voice too level. He didn't look up from the ties.
Lancelot frowned, glancing at Arthur.
"Arthur knows that you're a wizard," He said. "Because you were affected by the cure. And the cure only affected sorcerers."
"So?"
Amaroe stood shakily, the smile returning to his face. Above their heads, his men were creating a magical cage. The shadows of the bars grew and lengthened by the torchlight.
"So he knows about your magic."
"Who's magic?"
"Yours!"
Arthur caught Merlin's eye, looking at him seriously. All sorts of thoughts flew though his head, about his father, and his mother, about Morgana and Amaroe and the bloody cure that messed everything up. He was going to be twenty-three years old in a few hours. Was it already time to decide what kind of king he'd be in who knows how many years?
"I know you're a sorcerer, Merlin," He said slowly, balancing each word carefully, not quite believing they're coming out of his mouth. "…It's alright."
Merlin stopped trying to untie Lancelot. He met Arthur's gaze, his eyes uncertain and, strangely, relieved.
"You know I'm a sorcerer."
"Yes."
There was silence. Lancelot gazed from one man to the other, his heart pounding frantic and loud.
"Well why didn't you say so?" Merlin asked.
Arthur remained motionless as his friend took a step back, lifting his arm as to be level with the ties, and whispered a nonsense word, his eyes flashing a strange, indescribable color.
The ropes dropped to the floor.
Merlin looked at Arthur again, once again hesitant. The prince swallowed, his head clouded. He felt like he was floating. Everything he knew about Merlin was turning out to be a lie.
"Well go on," He said huskily, turning to allow the raven-haired boy better excess to his tied hands.
When he turned back, rubbing his wounded wrists, Merlin was smiling.
It was at this point that the cage dropped.
"Now the other two," Amaroe commanded, and the guards proceeded to push Lancelot and Arthur back against the wall with a powerful wind, leaving Merlin fallen in the cage, fresh out of adrenaline. He clutched at the bars, pulling himself up. His two companions were dazed by the wall, blinking uncertainly.
He was captured again.
Strange thought filled his mind. Memories from what seemed like centuries ago. He watched his hand as it held the bars, and suddenly saw chains around it, and felt the moving of a carriage beneath him. White faces stared at him with fear but he could not yell out for help. All he could do was think of the terrible blackness devouring him from the inside, Destroying his very self, the very thing that made him him-
Join me.
Amaroe?
"Merlin! Help!"
Merlin's head snapped up, and he was once again in the stone corridor, facing Arthur and Lancelot who were magically lifted in the air, Arthur holding on to the sword he'd somehow managed to get hold of away from the guards, straining to break free.
What was that?
He didn't have time to ponder it. The two guards stood behind him, arms high as they lifted the prince and Lancelot. Amaroe's smirk was growing by the second, and Merlin couldn't bear watching it one moment more.
He'd never been in so much pain in his life. The numbing spell has almost completely worn off, and he found himself hissing with every movement. Still he forced his hand off the bars, glaring at Amaroe hatefully.
Join me.
No.
The older man was staring right at him. What the hell was going on? Merlin gritted his teeth against a gray fog overwhelming his mind.
Why don't you calm down and sit?
He felt his breath slow, his heart measure. There was no pain as his feet folded beneath him. He sat still staring at Amaroe with hate.
Aren't my potions brilliant?
"Merlin!" Lancelot called, helpless against the guard's magic.
No!
Merlin rose up to his feet. All his pain disappeared, and for a moment it was just him, against Amaroe. The older man raised his eyebrows in surprise and appreciation. Merlin wanted him dead.
Dead, Merlin? How extreme.
Shut up!
He felt his eyes seethe with power he did not know he possessed. He was going to kill him. He was going to kill them all. He felt the words reach his lips, sweet and venomous. He didn't need a book of spells to know what he had to do. Amaroe's taken so much from him. He deserved to die.
He deserved to die.
"Merlin! What are you waiting for?"
What am I waiting for?
Amaroe was still smirking at him. His black eyes were filled with curiosity. Merlin was just an experiment to him. A lab rat. Something to be studied and dissected.
Well, Merlin?
I will not be what you want me to be.
And what's that?
Merlin made the magic within him calm, pushing it back inside himself.
A murderer.
And with that he raised his arms, letting the charm break through. Amaroe was pushed back against the wall, and crumbling rocks fell on top of him, covering him with debris. Almost simultaneously the cage was blown away, landing crushingly on top f the two guards, who collapsed under the force. Arthur and Lancelot dropped to the ground, scrambling to their feet as the entire building begun to shake.
"Convenient," Lancelot muttered, reaching over to grab his sword off the floor.
"How did you-" Arthur started, but then stopped himself. The doors all over the corridor opened with a loud thud and people- hundred of skeletal, wide-eyed people- streamed out.
"We need to go," The prince said, checking on the unconscious Amaroe. "Before one of them-"
There was a loud rumble, and the rocks that had fallen over the cage were pushed off powerfully.
One of the guards rose up from beneath them, blood dripping from his opened skull.
"Run," He said, staring straight at Arthur.
They ran.