Okay this is an important chapter because I've finally surpassed the number of chapters I had before I condensed a bunch of the chapters. So this means that all you people who haven't been able to review because the site thought you already had, should now be able to again. So, please Review! I love to get your feedback.
Retaking Camelot castle was not difficult after Morgana's overly conspicuous departure.
Having see the regent queen use magic the guards were easily convinced of her treachery. Though battered and bruised, the guardsmen spoke their apologies honestly to the Prince and his companions as he helped Sir Leon to carry Gaius towards the physician's chambers. At first glance it was obvious that he was no creature of Necromancy.
Morgana's words had all been lies.
Despite her own injuries Gwen was able to concoct the proper remedies for Gaius' wounds. Over the years she'd picked up a few things from the various traders who went in and out of her father's shops. Several of them traveling apothecaries. With a few sprinkles of leaves, some dried fungus, and a little water, she'd produced a thick orange paste that would prevent nearly any infection. When he awoke the elderly man would be sore, but would live.
Afterwards the handmaiden collapsed onto a cot in the infirmary.
Verown and his wolf were off patrolling the walls. Draped in the cover of night, the pair were a silent force of vigilance. Were Morgana to launch an attack they would be the first to know.
The newborn dragoness, who Lancelot had Christened Apalala for the old goddess of the sky, was curled up comfortably beside her master in a bale of hay at the back of the royal stables.
Arthur and Merlin however found no time for rest. No matter how direly they needed it.
Shoulder to shoulder the prince and his one-time manservant paced the length of the castle vault.
Above Merlin's hand floated a weak orange flame. It's spluttering light case oblong shadows over the rooms strange magical object Uther had even suspected to be magical was stored somewhere in this room.
Said Artifacts were recorded in a leather bound book which Arthur held open against his forearm.
Pensively he ran a finger down the list. The yellowed papyrus was rough to touch, and felt like gravel on the skin.
Several of the tall shelves had been cleared off, their contents strewn about the floor. The vault's door hung ajar, a brass key still in the keyhole.
Morgana had been there.
Sometime during their bout with the castle guards she snuck off somewhere, for a time anyway. Now they knew looked up from the list.
"Do you know anything about teleportation magic?" Merlin shook his head.
"No, wish I did. If I could just disappear and reappear anywhere I wanted I'd do it all the time. Travel all over, escape your ridiculous chores."
"And then I would have to come along to scrape up your remains once you'd teleported yourself off a cliff" Arthur shot back.
"Off a cliff? Come on, I'm not that incompetent. Worst comes to worst I'll end up in a river or on top of a wall or," he paused. Mischief glinted in his eyes. "Or into your chambers when Gwen's staying the night."
Arthur's cheeks burned an embarrassed pink. His hand gave an involuntary twitch. Guinevere had stayed many evenings in his chambers over that last year. They'd done nothing passionate, Arthur was too noble to do such things when no it seemed legitimate marriage could be made between them, a royal and a servant.
"H...h-how did you-"
"How did I know?" Merlin finished, grinning ear to ear.
"Honestly Arthur, I'm your servant. You didn't think I would notice the dress in the back of your wardrobe? It wasn't that hard to figure out. She stays the night with you, keeps some clothes in your room so she has something to change into in the morning, and then eats breakfast in the kitchens with the other servants. Don't worry, secrets safe with me. I'm really happy for you two. I hope it works out."
A long, awkward silence followed. Nearly an entire minute passed before finally, Arthur laughed. Merlin joined in, and soon their jovial chuckles filled the vault.
It lifted their spirits to know that even in the direst of circumstances, they were still able to exchange good friendly banter.
Whether demons were on the loose or not, the pairs friendship would remain strong. After all, they'd faced horrible odds before, and never once did that stop them from teasing one another.
"Then did you see what she used to get herself out of there?" Arthur asked. He lowered the book to examine an odd looking broomstick leaned against a shelf.
"Some sort of necklace I think," Merlin answered. "Black smoke came out of it. Then she was gone." He paused, weighing his words.
"Pardon me for asking, but why does it matter what she took? If she already used it then we can't. We don't have much time, and if we don't get to Badon Hill soon the battle can't be stopped."
"Two things," Arthur replied. "One, sometimes during raids on magic dwelling things were confiscated in bulk. Perhaps, there is another of these necklace's somewhere here, and we can use it to get to the Hill faster. And two, I'm hoping you can make use of the crystal of Neatid." Merlin stared. He hadn't thought of that!
The last time he'd used the crystal, it had shown him the future. It had shown him Kilgharrah attacking Camelot. But he hadn't been a prophet then. He hadn't yet visited the crystal cave, and awakened his sense of knowing. Perhaps now, it would yield more pleasing results.
"It comes from your cave of crystals, right? Maybe you can get another of your prophet, vision, knowing...things."
"Arthur that's brilliant!" clapping his friend on the back, he dashed to the doorway and retrieved the key it's hole. Robes trailing behind him, the warlock sprinted towards the rear of the vault, where he knew the crystal to be kept behind a wrought iron gate.
"You're welcome!" Arthur called after him. Shaking his head, he returned to the search.
LINEBREAK
Carefully Merlin lifted the crystal from the heavily bolted chest. It was just as he'd remembered. A hunk of pale opaque stone that shone like the stars above. From the moment his skin came into contact with the smooth rock he knew that this peek into the future would be different. Closing his eyes he gulped a deep prepatory breath before allowing the magic to flow.
An unearthly light bloomed at the crystal's heart.
Prickling pains danced across Merlin's skin. The hairs on the back of his neck stood upright. Power dripped through the entirety of his being.
Yes. This was already different.
The first time he'd used the crystal, his eyes had been glued to it's glassy surface, forced to watch future events roll past the window through time and reality. But now it was if he was actually being pulled forward towards the mist shrouded images that had only begun to form. His eyes, burning gold, were being urged towards the crystal, some invisible force tugging at them by the retinae.
Then, in a whirl of sound and color, Merlin's world melted and reformed in a single blurred instant.
He stood in a sweet scented meadow, filled with blooming flowers. Sunshine shone down through the branches of tall beach trees. Fallen petals wafted in a light summer's breeze.
Merlin blinked frantically. His heart beat like a war drum. How was he here? Where was here? Had the crystal transported him somewhere, actually pulled him through to some other world?
"Nothing like that my dear boy. Here doesn't really exist at all. It's but a dream of my own imagination." Merlin spun round.
At the meadow's dead center stood a tree stump. Withered bark covered it like burnt skin, clinging to a recently dead corpse. On it sat an elderly man with a long white beard and a staff grasped lightly in a pale decrepit hand. He was positively beaming, his baby blue eyes radiating love. Were angels bound to a mortal form, surely they would take one such as this. Weak in appearance, yet thunderously powerful, heart pure and kind. Standing in his presence alone was enough leave you at peace. He made you feel...happy inside.
Immediately the knowing came. This was the Pilgrim. The Emrys who came before him. The Emrys who would one day succeed him.
Around him amongst the flowers sat the strangest variety of people ever gathered in one place.
Another elderly man with a staff of his own sat beside a magnificent lion, which he scratched affectionately behind the ears. He smoked a pipe, occasionally puffing smoke rings that danced over the lion's mane. He was the living epitome of the color white. White beard, white mustaches, white robes. A white wizard.
To their left sprawled a man in a brown coat. Tousled brown hair hung over his eyes. He wore a sand colored coat and a cherry red bowtie. He twiddled a metallic looking tool tween his fingers. Several behind him stood a blue cubicle with bearing partially english writing. A whirring light topped it.
"Wonderful to see you again at last, Merlin" the Pilgrim continued. "I suppose you didn't expect the crystal to bring you here did you? Well, that's quite a simple explanation. But first, let me introduce my friend."
"Gandalf the White," he indicated the white wizard. "Maia guardian of Middle-Earth. A world far different from our own, yet no less awe inspiring." He gestured to the Lion. "Aslan, the great lion, and true king of Narnia. In my time I've met many animals who could speak, but none are greater than he. Some say his kingdom is Avalon itself, others, a distant land across the sea." He pointed to the man with the bowtie. "And last but not least the Doctor, last surviving Gallyfrean, last of the Timelords. That's quite a wonderful box he's got there. With it you can see so many worlds, meet so many people...They've all been such wonderful friends...They've come to see me off before I go. I'm dying, you know of course. The crystal cave will have shown you."
"We will leave you now, old friend" spoke Aslan. "You've must to teach this boy, and so little time to do so." He rose to his haunches, padded to the Pilgrim, and embraced him. A few moments passed. The Pilgrim kissed the lion once on the head, and Aslan faded away. Both Gandalf and the doctor followed suit.
"Goodbye old, friend" Gandalf said wistfully. With a shimmer, the wizard was gone.
"Is it how you remember it?" the Doctor whispered. The Pilgrim grinned.
"Oh mostly. I don't think I'll ever be as good at this as you are, Doctor. Time travel is rather jarring." The Doctor shrugged.
"Doing things in the wrong order is like that I suppose. Except for me of course. Well, I've got to be off. Lord knows what Rory and Amy have gotten up to without me. Goodbye, Pilgrim. Until we meet again."
The Doctor turned and skipped to the blue box and stepped inside.
The box too faded from sight.
"Now then," the Pilgrim turned back to Merlin, who didn't quite understand what was going on. "Where were we? Ah yes, why you're here. You see Merlin, you may be the Prophet now, but my connection to the crystal cave remains intact however frayed it may be. When you touched the crystal of Neatid, you were brought here to my dreams. Dreams are an easy realm to enter. And I know for a fact that now is the time when I must pass it along to you." Merlin quirked an eyebrow.
"Pass what along to me?"
"Required knowledge, and power beyond imagining. From one prophet to another." He offered the staff to him. "This belongs to you now. You'll be needing it very soon."
Hesitantly, Merlin stepped forward and took the staff. The lean carved wood felt familiar in his hands. Like he'd held it before. Every knot, every splintered edge, was familiar.
"With that you may learn to channel your power safely. Now, I've got quite a lot to say, so please, just listen. The battle at Badon hill cannot be stopped no matter what you do. The demonic hordes will be unleashed by Morgana's ritual, and they will spread their blight across the lands. Together, you and Arthur must stop them. On the battle field you will unleash a power unlike the world has ever seen, or shall ever see again. For that is why you are on this earth. To wield God's own power in the name of the one true king.
Demon's are very peculiar creatures in that they cannot exist on this plane without a mortal host. Cenred was such a host for the demon of Agmar, and his armies will be such for his armies. There lives cannot be saved as much as it pains me to say so. The Weaver will meet her doom at this battle. In order for Agmar to be destroyed, a soul must anchor it down into the abyss. That is it's hidden strength, and its only vitality. Someone must die to kill it. You will find all these things to be true. Beyond doubt. The knowing will show you that." He paused for a moment.
"You and Morgana will have your own battle. A fated duel to decide all. She's been driven mad. By fear, by rage. I know that you feel that you could have saved her. Perhaps you could have. But it does not do to dwell on what may have been, for such things can only uproot and destroy your will to live on. She will kill you. And you her. Yet you will live to see another day. Do not ask how that is, you will know the answer soon enough.
"Uther will fall, whether by his daughters hand or at the hand of another warrior, it does not matter. Arthur must be made king before the five kingdoms, and you will be the one to crown him. Destiny has come to a head. The time has come. Now, I have but a single magical technique. Imagine in your mind Badon hill. Let your magic spread to that spot and take in every detail of it. With staff in hand, spin around a single time. And there, you've just invented apparition. Goodbye, Merlin. I will see you on the battlefield. And when I do, I will know for certain that my end has come."