Chapter 50

The Kings of Old

Some months ago

Winter solstice court of Cologne, Empire of Germania

The barons, counts, magnates and margraves gathered here today. Nobody wanted to miss the grandiose celebration. Germania had entered a time of peace and prosperity. After subjugating France, The king of Saxons had proclaimed himself as the Emperor of Germania. Now rulers all across western and middle Europa had been coming to Cologne, the imperial capital to pay homage to the new emperor. Many have started to predict that this would be the start of a new golden age, one just as great if not, greater than that of Pax Romana.

The center of this celebration was seated on an ornate throne at the far end of the great hall garbed in imperial golden garments. The Emperor, Ludwig of Saxony was surrounded by Imperial guards armed to the teeth and in full armour. Imperial Battlemages, scattered among guests kept a careful watch for potential assassins who would try to harm his majesty. Beside Ludwig sat the imperial crown prince, Maximillian Nassau. On his side stood Imperial princess, Erina. And directly before Ludwig kneeled Morgana Pendragon, the princess of Camelot swearing fealty to her host.

"I, Morgana of House Pendragon, hereby proclaim my undying loyalty to the crown of the Empire and pledge my life to the people and Emperor of Germania."

"Rise, Morgana Pendragon and Rise as a shield maiden of Empire." Ludwig said as she kissed his hand as her sign of fealty.

A ring was brought before the emperor on a cushion which was made of Gold and fitted with numerous Emeralds. The emblem of House Nassau was engraved on it. Emperor Ludwig took it and gestured Morgana to hold out her right hand. Morgana did so and he slid the ring on her index finger.

Maximillian was shocked. That ring was imbued with very strong magic. It was of the former queen. Only those of House Nassau were given one. Then why his father was giving this to Morgana. Was he trying to send a message towards the nobility or did his foresight compel him to do such thing? Max couldn't think longer for his thought was drowned by the booming voice of the emperor.

"From now on till you die, you are of Germania and Germania is yours. Hail Dame Morgana."

HAIL

HAIL

HAIL

Rang through the throne room. All the shield maidens surrounded her and the ceremonial golden cloak was clasped around her with a golden chain around her neck.

At long last, she had found a home. She was recognized and loved.

But had she looked upon the face of the emperor, she would've found that his face was darkened with shadow of worry and sadness completely incongruous to the joyous mood of the court.

For he knew this joy, this pomp would not last. Soon the end times might come for all except Saxony.

And he would be the harbinger of that darkness. He had to.

There was no other way.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Present time.

Arvan.

He welcomed him to death. As Merlin looked around and saw nothing but desolate dune and a sun glowing red with an ominous glow as if the great star itself was dying, he knew the naming was accurate. For if death had been a place, it would have looked like this. Not far from where he was standing, he could see a lone figure standing in the middle of dune. As he approached closer. He realized who it was. Morgana was standing with a broadsword on her right hand and her left hand was raised.

Merlin knew she was readying a spell and as her eyes opened, they were bloodshot red. A ball of red fire burst forth from her hand and hurled towards Merlin. He jumped and dodged barely avoiding the blast. He tried to cast his own magic, but to his horror found out that he couldn't channel magic.

He couldn't feel the connection with Earth and as a result, felt almost naked and vulnerable. He hadn't time to think on this problem though as another blast of fire was hurled against him. He dodged it but then the sandy earth beneath him became soft for a moment and as he went knee deep it became hard. He unsheathed his sword but as he was stuck in a place, his conventional offensive capabilities were minimum at best.

Morgana was on him in a second. Her initial blows were deflected but even Merlin knew she was playing with him. His time was limited. Within some moments, he would be defeated. Morgana or more precisely, the dark one would have his revenge. He lured him into his trap and he fell for it.

Was this how his life was going to end? Was it all for nothing? Did fate play with him from beginning? At one moment, giving him hope and at the next, snatching it away.

Morgana readied her sword at one hand and a lightning bolt at another. When she was about to strike, Merlin looked at her red hate-filled eyes and shouted, "Fight it, Morgana. Is this what you really wanted?"

He saw a sudden conflict in her face and for a split second, her red eyes turned green. Her grip on her sword faltered and her lightning vanished.

Morgana was fighting. Her eye colour began to interchange in between red and green. But in the cursed one's own domain, she was almost helpless and her fighting against the cursed one was almost futile.

Her eyes turned red again and her grip on sword became strong. As the sword came down on him, Merlin closed his eyes and realized that he could channel magic now. His link with earth was reestablished.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Merlin has been taken." Queen Freya said as soon as she entered the tent.

They were all gathered in the command tent far away from the frontline, or what used to be the frontline ten minutes ago. For some reason, the undead army had stopped moving and fell over. The battle which had become deadly and almost disastrous for humans had stopped abruptly. King Arthur commanded the leaders of the army to fall back and assess the situation. As Merlin could last be seen flying over the battle and then engaging with the cursed one, Arthur had been fearing for the worst.

Freya's words just confirmed it. His face became taut and pale. Merlin was the greatest weapon they had on their arsenal. If he was taken, even if the undead were neutralized, it would be meaningless. The cursed one would just come back and wipe the floor with them.

"What do you mean by taken?" Guinevere was confused.

"I meant exactly as I said." Freya said. Her face was worried but her voice was filled with calm determination. Arthur was very impressed at how Merlin's wife was handling such a disastrous situation.

"We were fighting against Ajajil. It was going well. But then he chanted something in a language I couldn't understand and a void opened up tearing through air. And then….."

"And then a giant hand grabbed him snatching into the void." Everyone looked at Maximillian standing at the far corner of the tent, his head down looking at the floor.

"How did you?" Freya started.

"Father was obsessed with the cursed one. He had had collected all the books he could find about the cursed one in his library. I had read quite a few of them." Max continued in a monotone voice. Arthur could sense that he was sad about something and sounded hopeless.

"In one book, I read about it. Ajajil snatching people in his own realm. To transform them into his disciple. To play with his hunt, so to speak. To Arvan. To the dead land."

"What does this all mean?" Freya asked with a shaky voice. "Have we lost him?"

"Forever?" Arthur could see Freya's eyes had begun to glisten. Her strong facade had begun to crack. But this wouldn't end like this. They wouldn't lose. He could see Cole standing at the corner of his vision. No one else could see him. He nodded towards him and he knew what he had to do.

"Not if someone could go there and snatch Merlin back. Or if Ajajil decided to let him go. Very unlikely on both parts." Max stood up but didn't look them in the eyes.

"How would we get to Arvan?" Arthur asked.

Max looked up. He looked very different from the polished German prince he used to look. His hair was disheveled, eyes red and face drained of blood. He looked as if he aged ten years in a few hours.

"There's someone in there with whom I have a link. I can exploit that and tear open a gateway to Arvan."

"Who?" Guinevere asked.

"Morgana," was Max's short answer.

The whole room became uncomfortable. True, she had changed and was fighting on their side but she had been Albion's mortal enemy for such a long time that it was very hard to feel sympathy for her.

"She's in league with the cursed one!" Leon was aghast.

"No, she is not." Arthur could sense the rage in Max's voice. The prince's fists were clenched. The king of Camelot could guess that he was exercising utmost patience against the entire group which was completely thinking what Leon had said.

"And how did you know that? Are you in it with her too? Are you a spy too?" Alator was already raising his staff ready to blast the German Prince.

Max, it seemed had enough. "Don't you dare! You're going to regret it."

"What're you gonna do against all of us?" Gilli's sword was at the ready. Gwaine and Elyan was also unsheathing his sword.

"EVERYONE, STOP IT!" Arthur roared.

That got him the entire room's attention.

"Like it or not, His Imperial Highness is the only one who seems to have any idea of what's going on. You hurt him, and we will lose Merlin forever. Let's all just come down."

That had the desired effect Arthur was hoping it would get. Everyone was silenced and Max approached him.

That had the desired effect Arthur was hoping it would get. Everyone was silenced and Max approached him. "I would like to talk with you in private." Max said. His eyes were almost pleading.

If he was in Camelot, he could have just ordered everyone out. But now here, there were other royalties. So he signed to Max to follow him.

There were roars of disapproval when he began to leave the tent with Max. Arthur raised his hand by instinct and something flowed through him. The tent went silent.

Max looked at him and was surprised. Arthur looked at Guinevere one last time and said, "Trust me."

He went out of the tent with Max following behind. "You can channel magic?" The prince asked.

"We'll talk of this later. Tell me what to do to go to Arvan. Time is of the essence"

"Time flows slower in Arvan than in our world. We'll still have to hurry and you have to fight there. Are you sure of this?"

"There's none who can." Arthur said with determination.

Max, with a grateful smile nodded and suddenly began to glow. He raised his right hand and on his index finger, a golden ring studded with Sapphires was also glowing with brilliance.

Max looked at the sky as if in prayer and shouted, "Were you able to foresee this too, father?" A burst of light began to emanate from him. A beam of blue light burst from the ring and tore a hole in the air. It began to enlarge and soon enough it was large for a grown man to go through.

"I have to stay here as an anchor in this world. If I go in there, Ajajil would be able to close off the gateway and trap us there too. But be quick. Time moves slower there. One minute there is like an hour here. I don't know how long I can hold this. It's draining my magicka quickly. Go! Just Please bring Morgana back safely!"

"Thank you, your…."

"Just go," Arthur couldn't finish due to Max cutting him off. Sweat was already begining to appear on his forehead.

Arthur didn't say anything further. He stepped through the portal and discovered himself in a desolate place with nothing but sands around him with a dark red sun glowing over his head. A loud boom rang from afar. Arthur looked towards the sound and found two figure amidst the dune. A male figure getting up from the sand while a woman who seemed to be was thrown away by a heavy force.

Merlin and Morgana. Arthur realized. He had no time to lose. He knew what he had to do.

"Kings of Camelot!" Arthur called while unsheathing Excalibur. He thrusted it down towards the sand and closed his eyes.

"Come to me!"

Multiple blue phantom rose from the sand, each garbed in magnificent armours or robes. Some held Swords, some held maces or some held bows. But all were wearing the same crown. The Crown of Camelot.

These were the predecessors of King Arthur.

The Rulers of Camelot.

"Let us fight together, King Arthur," spoke King Bruta, the first of them all and unsheathed the phantom Excalibar. The other phantom kings did the same and stood beside Arthur.

Arthur with all the kings ran towards the King of Elmet. Merlin was surprised to see Arthur but knew it was not the time to ask questions. Questions would have to come later. Now was the time to fight.

He looked at Arthur and said, "Don't hurt her. The cursed one was controlling her. She's fighting inside herself. But without our help, she wouldn't be able to free herself."

"Grab her and just get out of here. I guess you figured a way to get out."

"Of course, Merlin. After all, It was always I who came to your rescue." Arthur winked.

Merlin raised an eyebrow at Arthur while another blue phantom figure raced past him and grabbed Morgana. Morgana tried to resist but a spell from Merlin knocked her unconscious.

They began to race towards the portal. They were successful. They had won. Arthur thought.

He looked at Merlin. His friend and brother. Running beside him. Towards home. Towards freedom. For once, it was he who saved Merlin not the other way around.

He felt ecstatic. Feelings of triumph overwhelmed him. But suddenly, everything began to shake. Arthur almost lost balance and fell. He got a hold of himself but to his horror, a shadowy draconic figure began to rise from sands blocking their path to the portal. Atop it, rode a hideous figure garbed in a rusted armour. The figure itself was decaying. Chunks of flesh was already falling off of him. He looked at them with his red eyes and said,

"DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD LEAVE SO EASILY?"

And then there was red and there was clash. They fought for that was the only thing they could do.

Next chapter: The last battle. The final showdown.