Riding over the crest of a hill, Arthur yanked his horse to a stop. He stared out across the land, illuminated by an afternoon glow. In the valley below them, there was a cluster of houses. Behind the buildings, a great mountain towered over them. Arthur's eyes followed the mountain up until it disappeared into the clouds.
"Good Lord." Leon murmured from beside him. "I don't believe I've ever seen a mountain such as that."
"It's a giant!" Percival agreed, gaping at the enormous mountain.
It sure is, Arthur mused. And, according to that crook, it's size isn't the only unique thing about it.
"Come." Arthur declared, taping his heels against his stallion's side. "Let's go."
With Arthur at the head of the group, they galloped down the hill and made their way towards the village. As they approached, a shepherd, who was standing guard over his flock at the front of the village, let out a cry of alarm.
"Attack!" He squealed, waving his rod about in panic. "We're being attacked!"
"Woah!" Arthur held up his hands non-threateningly. "At ease. We come in peace."
The man's lip trembled, and he eyed them wearily. Arthur knew what he was thinking. A group of armed knights, with faces grim and eyes dark, didn't exactly scream peace.
"W-what do you want?" The man demanded, peering over his shoulder. Arthur smiled thinly.
"We're looking for a man." He explained. "A Druid by the name of Iseldir."
The shepherd licked his lips.
"I don't know any Druids." He mumbled, hands trembling. Arthur furrowed his brow.
"Are you certain?" He asked, doubtfully. "Because we were told that the Druids would be here this time of year… that they come to honor an ancient warlock, Melvin?"
The shepherd took a step back, his eyes wide with panic.
"I don't have anything to do with those who practice magic!" He whimpered.
"He's not here to harm them, or you." Arthur glanced over his shoulder, watching as Merlin addressed the man, a soft smile on his face. "You don't have to be afraid."
"He's… He's a Pendragon!" The man protested. He jabbed his rod towards the crest on Arthur's saddle bag. "The king of Camelot! He hates magic." The man swallowed. "You all do!"
Oh, Arthur blinked. So, that's what this is about.
"I do not hate magic." He grunted. "I just believe that it can, and has, been used to hurt good people… and, in my kingdom, those who can legally wield it must prove themselves loyal." He nodded to Merlin. "Such as him. But I am not here to arrest or harm anyone, I'm here to talk to Iseldir. I have no quarrel with the Druids, nor have I ever."
The man opened his mouth to respond. But before he could, a group of men, clad in armor, and clutching daggers, came barreling out from a gate behind him.
"Halt!" The one at the head of the clan roared. He jabbed his dagger towards Arthur. "Don't take another step forward. You, and your band of knights, can turn around and go back the way you came." The man narrowed his eyes. "Your kind will never be welcome here. Camelot will never be represented within this village."
"Easy, Fin." A voice, calm as a cloudless sky, interrupted him. Arthur watched as a man, wearing a clock, and with hair the color of cobblestone, walked out from one of the houses and came to stand beside the other man, Fin. "They are not enemies."
"Iseldir!" Fin protested, his eyes flashing. "He's-."
"He's a friend." Iseldir said, firmly. Arthur squinted at him.
I've seen that man before, he realized.
"Mordred." He murmured. "I returned him as a boy, to you. And the cup… I retrieved it from you."
Iseldir dipped his head.
"So you did." He murmured. "It is an honor to see you again, Arthur." He switched his gaze to Merlin. "And you as well, Emrys."
Merlin, so focused on taking in the village around him, didn't notice that he was walking straight towards a wheelbarrow. He hissed as he knocked his shin against the wood.
"Merlin." Arthur grumbled. "Don't be such a clutz."
Iseldir, who was walking in front of them, glanced back. Amusement flickered in his gaze.
"This place is rather cluttered." He warned. "Welcome to the village of Melvinrun. This place is home to shepherds and blacksmiths… a few chicken farmers and a handful of fishermen. Nothing out of the ordinary." He locked eyes with Merlin. "And yet… the mountain is anything but ordinary."
Merlin's eyes flashed over to the great peak. He could see what looked like a trickle of water dripping down the stones on the side of the mountain, filtering into a river that ran by the edge of the town.
"Is it true then?" He asked. "That the mountain holds the power to bring the dead back to life?"
Iseldir's face turned grim.
"Not the mountain." He explained. "The mountain is a vessel. The waterfall, the water… that is where the magic lies."
"The water then," Arthur butted in. "It holds the power to raise the dead?"
"Yes."
Merlin swallowed, exchanging a look with his king. He could see the worry in Arthur's blue eyes.
Morgana, Merlin thought, feeling ill. She could be brought back… he gritted his teeth, jerking his head. No. No, I won't let that happen. Morgana will never again walk this earth, not as long as I'm alive.
"We didn't come about the mountain." Arthur said, as the Druid leader lead them up to a hut at the end of the line of houses. He opened the door, before turning to stare at the king.
"I know." He sighed. "I know why you have come. There are many seers among my people. I know what has been taking place."
"Thomas." Arthur stared him down. "He is your son?"
Grief and regret flared in the old man's eyes. He waved a hand at the open door.
"Inside." He said. "Don't fret, I'll tell you everything you wish to know."
"Leon, Percival," Arthur turned to his knights. "Stand guard. All the rest of you, go see if you can find a place for us to stay for the night."
The knights obeyed his orders, and Arthur followed Merlin and the other warlock into the hut. Iseldir led them over to a table in the center of the room. A single candle sat on the wooden surface, lighting up the small house. There were two chairs at the table.
"Sit." The man said. Merlin hesitantly went to take one of the chairs. Arthur frowned.
"I'll stand." He declined the offer. "You take a seat…"
Merlin flopped down in one of the chairs, flashing the royal a bitter look.
He's not that old, he thought. You don't have to be all honorable and give up your seat. We've had a long week's ride.
But then, Merlin noticed how the Druid's shoulders were sagging and his head was bowed. He shifted uncomfortably.
"I can stand." He said. "If you both want to sit." Merlin chuckled. "I mean, you're both important and I'm-."
"Sit." Arthur growled at him, though his eyes were soft. "Last thing I need is for your puny bones to give way. We might need your magic later on. Rest, Merlin."
Merlin made a face, but he said nothing. He knew Arthur was being kind… in his own strange way.
Clotpole, Merlin thought, eyeing his friend with amusement. But Arthur wasn't looking at him anymore. The king was staring at Iseldir.
"Tell us what happened." He ordered. "With your son… and with my ward."
Iseldir let out a breath. He pulled the chair out, and sat down.
"Arthur. You know I've never born any ill will to you or your people. I've always been on your side… but that does not mean I was never hurt during your father's reign."
Merlin watched as Arthur swallowed.
"Many… many people could say the same." He murmured, obviously trying to mask the shame in his voice.
Why do you still defend him? Merlin wondered, not for the first time. When he's done such evil? Why not just accept that Uther was evil. Plain and simple.
"My wife, the mother of my son," Iseldir went on. "Was burnt to death by the knights of Camelot during Uther's time as king. My son, Thomas, saw her die."
Merlin swallowed back bile, feeling sick to his stomach.
No wonder he believes Camelot is evil, he thought, remembering the hate on Thomas's face that day he'd taken Callum. To watch his mother die in such a way… at such a young age… how could anyone ever forget that?
"He was never the same after that." Iseldir said, echoing Merlin's thoughts. "He… he became so full of hate and rage." The man lowered his head. "I was grieving myself, and I didn't see what was happening to him until… until it was too late. I wasn't there for him when I should have been… and, by the time I finally realized that, he'd become a man fixated on settling the score he believed had been set that day."
For a moment, no one spoke. Merlin watched the Druid as he blinked back tears. It didn't feel right to see him like that.
All the other times I've seen him, Merlin mused, his own head drooping. He's always been so strong… almost inhumanly wise. I never took the time to think about him as a person, a person with history and problems of his own.
"Callum." Arthur finally rasped, drawing the attention of the other two men over to him. "Why would he take my ward?"
Iseldir closed his eyes.
"Arthur." He whispered. "You are aware of the prophecy surrounding you and Mordred, are you not?"
"The one that said I was destined to die at his hand?" Arthur swallowed. "Yes. Merlin saved my life that day."
The old man's eyes opened, and he stared right at Merlin. Merlin cringed away from that steel gaze.
"He did." The Druid agreed. "But he wasn't supposed to. Emrys… you deified fate herself when you brought him back from the dead. And fate doesn't like to be denied. So, there was another prophecy circling around those gifted with the power of sight."
"What?" Merlin breathed, his heart racing.
"A prophecy about that boy," he murmured. "Callum."
"What about Callum?" Arthur's voice was unreadable. But Merlin could see the panic in his friend's eyes.
Please not again. He thought desperately. Arthur can't take anymore betrayal. Especially not from the child… I don't believe Callum would betray him. Which is funny, Merlin smiled bitterly. Because, when I first met him, I was so sure he would. But now? I know that boy. He wouldn't hurt Arthur.
"It was said that the boy could bring about your downfall, right the wrong fate felt was committed." Iseldir told him. Arthur shook his head instantly.
"No." He said, his voice sharp. "Callum would never-."
"Hold on." Iseldir held up a hand. "Listen. It was said that the boy could bring about your downfall… or, he could become your greatest achievement. Two paths were shown to all those who received this prophecy."
Arthur furrowed his brow.
"But… they can see the future, correct?" He demanded. "Which one is going to come to pass?"
Iseldir titled his head, eyes glazed with emotion.
"That depends."
"On what?" Arthur snapped, his voice desperate. Merlin felt a chill run down his spine, as Iseldir's eyes slid past them, gazing out the window of the hut… eyeing the mountain.
"On which path he chooses."