Summary: Future AU. After a seeing-stone washes up on the shores of Ealdor, the last Island left after the great floods and rising Ocean, Merlin sees their salvation - a Sky City named Camelot. When he wakes up on the shores of the Sky City, Merlin starts to realise the New World is nothing as it was fabled. It is then that Merlin begins his journey to meet the 'dragon' that called him there, realising that nothing in Camelot is what it seems. Together they begin a revolution against a blind king and the foundations the New World was built on, uncovering even deeper secrets that were thought to be buried with the Old World when the land sunk.
Word Count: ~140,000
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin (with Balinor/Hunith and Uther/Ygraine)
Warnings: Character death (mostly minor, but includes a known character who dies in canon and a child), torture, flooded-world scenario (&associated issues e.g. refugee camps, starvation etc.), sort-of-slavery, intoxication (leading to what some might consider dub-con, though it's not intended as such)
Part One: The Islands
Ealdor.
April, 3500.
In the end, Merlin didn't need to use any of the plans he'd formulated. It was Old Man Simmons who brought the topic up, shoving an old newspaper print in peoples' faces, gesticulating wildly.
"How do we know they exist?" someone called from the mass in the hall, pressed together as if they could save each other by being close.
"The alternative it to stay here," Simmons replied, face stern. "I'm not saying we should leave, but it's something to consider. William brought me his scrapbook and there is evidence that these Sky Cities exist."
The crowd were still sceptical, but Merlin met Will's eyes through the crowd and acknowledged him with a nod. He believed him now and he'd be able to convince more people than the others simply because he knew what it felt like to be in their position.
"He's right," Merlin said, pushing forwards until he stood next to Old Man Simmons, the man looking down at him with narrowed eyes. "We have to think about our future and it's clear that we can't stay here. These Sky Cities exist, they were built years back-"
"Bet they're crumbling!" someone shouted and a murmur of agreements set up around the room, passing around like Chinese whispers.
"They'll just be death traps!" another voice called out, again to a chorus of agreement.
"Or the Spirits will eat us before we even get there," came a third objection and Merlin couldn't stand anymore.
"So what? We just sit here and wait until the water hits our doorsteps? Sit miserably as the people we love drown?" Silence followed his words, but Merlin wasn't done. "We're the last of the Lands and we're going to let ourselves be taken by the Great Ocean?"
As much as he'd love to say his words were met with cheers and nods, only one or two appeared to outwardly agree. The rest simply looked at Merlin, shaking their heads and muttering about his age, full of hope and delusional.
"The boy's right," Simmons stated, eyes raking over the villagers. The atmosphere changed, from the disbelief of Merlin's words to a slight respect for Simmons.
Even though Merlin and Will didn't think he was much of anything, his age held precedence over the rest of the villagers it seemed. He had to be wise to have lived that long perhaps, though Merlin didn't subscribe to that one bit.
Still, if Simmons could convince them when Merlin could not… maybe he wasn't supposed to save them in an obvious way. Magic wasn't exactly a known subject so perhaps he was supposed to do things quietly, sneak around like a superhero from the Old World.
"I'm not asking you all to stay or all to leave; you need to make your choice. We can't keep living here and the tides are rising. I say we have a year, year and a half if we're lucky." He took a shuddering breath, old bones creaking as he stood up straighter, addressing everyone.
"In three days, boats will set off in search of the Sky Cities. Whether or not you choose to be on those boats is up to you, but they will be leaving." The hall broke out into private discussions as Simmons finished, but he didn't silence them.
Instead, he looked at Merlin, watery eyes widening so he could look at him squarely.
"William's going," he said, looking Merlin up and down. "And I suppose you will be too?"
He'd never really spoken to Simmons before, instead simply built him up as a fear imposing figure, one of ultimate authority and control over the village. To children testing the waters of their society, Simmons had been just another rung on the ladder to annoy when they could, riling the man up in the name of fun.
Now though, Merlin could see the man for who he was. There was no awe-inspiring figure, no frightening leader. Instead, here was a man who had lost so many things and was tired. He could see a man who had tried his best to look after the remaining villagers even though it was a lost cause.
And while he was flawed (the exorcisms and his mannerisms to name just two things), he cared for his friends and family, the people who he'd seen grow and loved. He was accepting the fact that Ealdor had no future and making people choose, because that's what they would have to do in the end. Everyone had to choose whether they would die here on Ealdor or whether they'd take a chance, but they'd all assumed they could make that decision later rather than now.
Too late, time was up. Simmons had seen it, Will had been seeing it for months and Merlin… Merlin (like so many others) had seen it, but refused to accept it. Now there wasn't an alternative. He had to accept it because otherwise the choice would be taken from his hands and he'd die.
"I know our future can't rest here," he replied, hoping that Simmons could see his sincerity.
The old man stared at him a moment longer before he nodded.
"Good. The new world needs people like you, people who are strong enough to speak out. William's an example too, though he's still unable to let go of the past completely." Simmons looked over to the side where Will was talking to a group of people, his scrapbook in his hands and face earnest.
His words were true. There would always be a part of Will that resented the Oceans for taking his family. They had all lost people, but Will had never been able to accept that their deaths were simple tragedies, one of many. He didn't mourn them like others mourned their losses, but took it as a more personal offence, looking to blame instead of accepting they were gone. And as ridiculous as it was to say that Will blamed the sea itself, it was a fact. Even Simmons could see it.
"We will meet here again tomorrow noon. It is your choice whether you wish to stay or go, but if you stay, you know how everything will end. Leaving the island at least gives you a chance." Simmons looked over the crowd before shuffling off, into the light rain.
Conversation exploded through the hall, villagers discussing the news. Who was going to leave? Should they leave? Was anyone going to stay? Hundreds of questions were thrown into the air and the whole way through, Merlin focused on Will, making his way to his friend's side.
"You set this up?" Merlin asked and Will turned to him, shaking his head.
"Very funny. Nah, I would have been laughed at, you know what popular opinion of me is like." Merlin had to concede to that; Will was known as a troublemaker. "Simmons came over to mine after your mum talked to him. She must have been pretty persuasive for him to agree, what did she say?" Will looked to him, eyes wide with curiosity.
"She talked to him?" While it was true Hunith had collected their last set of supplies while Merlin had offered to mend one of the shutters, she hadn't mentioned even seeing Simmons, let alone talking to him.
"She didn't tell you?" Will asked, raising an eyebrow. To Merlin's shake of the head, he continued. "Simmons wouldn't tell me everything, but he said that he couldn't disagree with anything she said." He shrugged and added, "Whatever that means."
A few angered voices broke out and Merlin risked a glance over, noticing the way the room had split a little, most of the villagers on the more argumentative side. It was clear that not everyone was happy with the suggestion and it looked as though most people were happier to stay here rather than try to find Camelot.
"Come on," Will said, tugging at Merlin's sleeve and leading them out of the hall. There was no one to miss them; Hunith hadn't been at the meeting, but sent Merlin for their house.
Outside, the rain still pattered down, but it was gentle, calming. While it could still strike fear in his heart, Merlin loved the rain. He loved the ocean and the storms that raged overhead, though not many people would agree with him. There was just something beautiful about the fall of the rain and the rise of the waves, even though he knew first-hand how deadly they could turn.
Will led them down to the shore. It had crept closer, to the outskirts of town now. A few scrubby bushes half-hid an old, wooden bench, but the branches were easily swept back and they sat, staring out into the darkness.
The horizon stretched on forever, all around Ealdor without a hint of Camelot. Merlin wondered which way it was, wondered if Hunith maybe knew.
Doubts began to creep in; after all, he knew nothing about Camelot, not even the direction they needed to go. Had Merlin really just believed they could set sail and they'd have reached Camelot? Had he planned to use his magic to guide them somehow when all he could do was force a stone to show him things?
Even though Hunith had admitted that Merlin had moved objects and 'other things' when he was small, such inclinations of power hadn't risen up again, and Merlin was beginning to think he'd simply lost the ability somehow.
"It's going to be weird," Will began, eyes fixed out to the horizon. "I mean, this is all we have, isn't it?"
Merlin didn't say anything. There wasn't anything he could say, not really.
"I know staying here will just end with us dying, but I'm scared." Merlin nodded to that, even though Will couldn't see him.
A few clouds above shifted, throwing weak light from what moon they could see over the waves. The waters were calm today, content with the rain and their decision to leave.
"I wonder what this city'll be like," Will said softly. At that point, Merlin knew that he had to tell Will about what he'd seen, regardless of Hunith asking him not to tell anyone, to keep his powers secret.
"It's beautiful," Merlin began and Will's head snapped round to face him. "I mean, I've only seen the ruined part, but that was beautiful. Marble and white, like all the pictures in those books and stuff." Refusing to look at his friend, Merlin's eyes tracked the light from the moon as it shimmered on the waves.
"I have this power." Merlin turned to Will now, wishing he had the stone on him so he could show it. "You know those old stories about magic and fairies?"
Will scoffed, "What, you're a fairy? I know you're not chasing the girls around and all, but 'fairy' is such a derogatory term-"
"Shut up," Merlin said with a smile, pushing against Will's shoulder. Somehow, no matter what happened, Will was always able to revert back to his basic snark and joke, something Merlin needed right now. "I meant that this power I have; it's magic. And I used it to look at Camelot, one of the Sky Cities."
He couldn't keep the hope from his voice, his wonder and amazement at what he'd seen bleeding through. He didn't get a reply for a while, Will processing or thinking, or whatever it was he needed to do, eyes fixed once again out to the sea.
Eventually he spoke up. "I'll just about believe anything I think, but couldn't you have had a better power? Like, oh I don't know, something to stop the sea?"
While there was a grin to what he said, Merlin could hear the slight hope and pang of desperation.
Did he have the power to stop the seas? The dragon had told him he needed to come to Camelot, but if he could just stop the ocean churning, surely that was saving his people? And that, after all, was the main point of what the dragon had said.
"I don't know," he said, eyes raking over the ocean. He had to at least try, even though he didn't have the faintest idea how.
Somehow picking up on what Merlin was thinking, Will glanced between him and the waves, unsure for once.
For someone so full of hopes that it could happen, Will was strangely hesitant as Merlin stood, walking over the ragged line of rocks and broken tarmac until he reached the point where the tide rested. Toeing off his trainers, Merlin rolled his trousers up, stepping forwards and trying to reach for the ball of power in him.
"Merlin? What are you doing?" Will had a worried edge to his voice, but he remained at the edge of the water, trusting Merlin.
He could feel the ball of power now, resting in his chest. His feet slipped slightly on the rocks and Merlin wondered how far he'd have to travel before he'd find the sand that had been the shorelines of his childhood. It had to be quite far now, considering how much of Ealdor they'd lost over the years.
Merlin kept walking, ignoring how the sea water flowed past his rolled up trousers and through the material. He was knee-deep now and Will was calling for him, insulting him in a haggard tone. The ball of magic in his chest thrummed suddenly and Merlin stopped, knowing he was in one of the patches of moonlight.
There was a child's story that Hunith had recounted for Merlin again and again, of the moon goddess who took vengeance on the earth for stealing her lover. The details were lost, but it was a fanciful explanation for why the waters had risen, an explanation only a fairy tale could dream up.
Still, it was true that the moon controlled the waves and the oceans, though perhaps not to the extent of the amount of water. That was down to the melted ice, or so stories told. How could anyone know the truth when they were limited to an island? And maybe the truth wasn't so nice, best just to wrap it all up in a fanciful story and leave it there, for people to smile and dig around for how true it was; never really realising it was a story with almost no truth at all.
Standing under the curve of the moon now though, Merlin wondered if their earth had stolen away something precious from the moon. What had happened that they needed to be punished? So many people, so many lands, gone. It couldn't just be down to an excess of water, surely?
"Merlin!" Will shouted again, drawing Merlin's attention. The water around his thighs was cold, but not unbearably so. The current pulled at him a little, but the waves were mild tonight, pushing and pulling him gently. If the spirits existed, maybe they were welcoming him tonight, bathed in the light of the moon and full of magic.
There weren't any words he could say or incantations he could perform to stop the seas, but Merlin placed his hands in the water nonetheless. His magic rose up inside of him, flowing into his arms as he guided it, focusing on the sway of water under his palms.
For a moment, a glorious moment, Merlin thought he'd done it. Magic burned through his body and he could feel it in the water around him, a comforting glow. His eyes were shut, but he knew that the world had slowed, that the waves had ceased in their journey and calmed. He couldn't hear Will anymore, lost in the humming of his magic.
Then it dropped, suddenly and without warning. The waves resumed their movement, lapping around him and soaking through to his skin.
"Merlin you idiot!" Will's voice trailed over the water to Merlin and he turned, dropping the last tendrils of his magic as water sloshed around him.
Knowing that he hadn't stopped anything, that the waters would just keep on rising, Merlin started making his way back. Though he shouldn't be, he felt somewhat disappointed. He had felt something, and while he hadn't expected to stop the ocean itself, there should have been something more, a voice telling him what he was supposed to do if not stop the tides themselves.
"What the fuck were you doing!" Will hissed as Merlin stepped onto land, shaking his feet. The rain had begun to fall heavier now, soaking through their clothes a little. Will's hair was flattened down over his frown and Merlin wondered what a sight he made, half-soaked from the sea and all parts damp.
"Trying to stop the sea," Merlin muttered, even though it was ridiculous.
"Giving me a heart attack is what you were doing, you complete wanker," Will growled, punching Merlin on the arm. "Who the hell just waltzes out into the Ocean - I don't care if it's not particularly strong tonight, it's still the bloody Ocean - and then says they were just trying to stop the sea!"
Shrugging, Merlin shoved his socks and shoes back on, wincing as water soaked through the material of his socks, leaving his feet damp and unhappy. Will was still muttering about how crazy Merlin was, but he ignored him in favour of returning to the little bench.
"I mean it was impressive and all with the glowing, but couldn't you have waved around a stick here or something?" Merlin's attention turned back to Will.
"I glowed?" he asked. "And you're sure it wasn't the moon or anything?"
Will rolled his eyes. "I think I know what moonlight looks like and what glowing is. Seriously, you reflected off the water and everything. I bet someone from the village saw you and thought you were a spirit or something." He paused, considering what he'd just said. "Maybe we should get you to glow again, dress you up and pretend you are a spirit so you can convince everyone to leave?"
Giving a small snort of laughter, Merlin shifted on the bench until he leant against Will, closing his eyes for a moment.
"So you saw it?" Will asked quietly after a while, resting his head against Merlin's.
"Through a stone, yeah." Merlin opened his eyes slowly, wiggling his damp toes in his shoes with a grimace. "I couldn't hear the ocean at all."
"Is that really the first thing you thought?" was the slightly incredulous reply, as if Merlin was the only person in the world who would have thought something as 'terrible' as that. "Not, oh fuck I'm in a different world or anything?"
Shaking his head, Merlin was about to say he'd been a bit preoccupied when the dragon had arrived, but something stopped him. He hadn't even told his mother about the dragon and, for some reason, he just didn't want to talk about it with Will. It was a secret, a hidden treasure almost.
"Do you know what it's like not to hear the Ocean? Not just covering your ears, but for it not to even be there?" Will was silent. "It's amazing. Scary, but amazing. And the garden… I found out it was the garden belonging to the former queen. It was in ruins, but it would have been beautiful in its prime."
Merlin could practically feel Will roll his eyes. "So while the rest of us are busy integrating with society, little Merlin's going to be doing up this garden?"
Merlin lifted his head up, nudging Will in annoyance. "Yeah because they'd just let a refugee toy with the Queen's garden."
The word refugee came out easily enough, but it hadn't made an impact until he'd said it. That was what they were going to be, homeless refugees, like so many of the people who had come to Ealdor. They were going to turn up on the shores of a tower hoping that they'd be accepted with open arms. It wasn't hard to see why some people were against the idea, but what other choice did they have?
"We'll all be together," Will said and Merlin nodded slowly. "No matter what happens, at least we'll all be together." He gave a huff of laughter, "And a sorry bunch we'll make!"
The rain began to pick up a little more and so they left, walking along the coast until they reached the part of the village where Will's house was.
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?" Will said.
"I can stay if you want, mum will know where I am," Merlin offered. While Will had taken his news well, he wasn't sure how he'd be in the morning. He was the kind of person who reacted quietly to big things, taking them away to digest.
But Will shook his head, waving Merlin off. "I'll be fine. It hasn't all sunk in, leaving Ealdor, you glowing and…" Will struggled for words, falling back on humour when he couldn't find them. "And your new passion to become a gardener of course. I'd always pegged you as more the kind of person to cry over little animals though, but have fun with the roses and all."
He clasped Merlin on the shoulder before moving off into the darkness, treading carefully along uneven paths to his house. Merlin watched him for a moment before looking towards the line of the sea and the pathway home. The coast would lead him to the bridge where he could climb up the bank and continue home directly, so he set off, trainers slopping into the water.
There was a flickering light in the windows of his house; Merlin noticed as he drew closer and when he entered, Hunith met him in the hallway.
"You spoke to Simmons?" he asked, shrugging off the jacket he'd worn.
"I told him about your father and what you'd seen." Merlin wondered if he should have felt betrayed that she hadn't discussed the revelation with him first, but he didn't have the energy to care. At last they were going to move to safety and he had to protect his people. So what if Simmons knew what he could do? It would be easier than hiding his talents at least.
"Everyone's meeting again at noon to decide. I don't know if they'll all go," Merlin added on, moving into the kitchen and standing by the fire-heated oven for a moment. It was slightly warm from whatever Hunith had cooked for dinner and he rested against it, letting the heat seep through his wet clothes.
"You can't force them, no matter what. Sometimes you have to just accept that people will always be people, even though you want to bash their heads in. Shift," she said and Merlin scooted over, watching as Hunith pulled out a plate of meat stew from the oven.
"Your dinner." She raked an eye over him before sighing. "Do you want to get changed?"
Merlin shook his head, reaching for the food instead. He hadn't realised how hungry he was, but lunch had been a long time ago now.
"Some things never change," Hunith muttered with a smile, placing cutlery down after the plate and kissing Merlin's cheek.
"I'm off to bed, don't stay up too late." She moved off then, the stairs creaking as she walked up to her room.
Merlin ate in silence, eyes fixed on the window left bare of its shutters for once. While the rain was still pouring down the wind was gentle tonight and so Hunith had left of the storm shutters. It was a nice change, the night sky not something Merlin saw much of.
When he finished, Merlin washed up the plates and turned his attention away from the moon and the ocean, shuffling upstairs and getting into pyjamas. As he tucked himself in, his hand moved under his pillow, closing around the stone that he kept there. His magic hummed as it came into contact with the stone, calling out for him to descend into it, to fall through to Camelot, but he resisted, falling into dreams instead.
.
After bustling through the wind and the rain, Hunith and Merlin moved into the sombre mood of the hall, packed in with the rest of the village. Simmons was standing at one end of the hall, stern eye keeping watch over the group as time ticked on. There was a small commotion just to the side of Merlin as Will pushed past, grinning as he took his place beside them.
"Afternoon," he drawled, smile still well in place. And it had every right to be there; this was what Will had wished for months now, to be seen as more than a troublemaker and be listened to.
Hunith leant over Merlin a little to talk to Will, "Come round ours for dinner tonight, okay? I think it might end up a bit of a rough night so after this, take Merlin and go get your stuff to stay over."
There was no room for argument in her tone and they all knew why. It would likely be the last night Will could sleep round their house and even though they had their hopes and dreams, there was every possibility that they'd never make it to Camelot.
When Simmons was satisfied that everyone was here, or at least one person from each household, he raised a hand, the hall quietening down. Will looked to him expectantly and Merlin noticed he had his fingers crossed, falling back on old world traditions to try and coax his luck.
"As I said yesterday, the Island is dying. You can choose to find salvation in the Sky Cities or you can stay here with the waters." He paused, taking in a deep breath. "I can't make you choose, but a decision has to be made today so preparations can start."
Unlike yesterday, no whispers broke out. The hall was silent as Old Man Simmons shuffled to the side, picking up Will's scrapbook. Merlin realised that he was going to use the empty pages at the back, yellowed with age though they were, to document who would stay and who would go.
"If you wish to travel to the Sky Cities, please come forward to write your name. No one is to leave until everyone has signed." Simmons waved the book about before placing it on the table he'd moved to the front.
No one moved, eyes looking around the room to see who would be the first. Not even Will moved, rooted to the ground with stares fixed on him. Simmons waited at the front, a rare pen clutched in his gnarled hands as he looked down on them, eyes raking over them all.
That morning, Merlin had placed the Obsidian in his pocket before he'd set out, for no reason other than he needed the reassurance that Camelot existed. Despite everything that he'd seen and the urge to leave Ealdor from both Mary Collins and the dragon, it was still hard to imagine that a place existed out there that could save them all.
As he remembered the stone in his pocket, Merlin slipped his hand around it, curling around the surface. This was what they were aiming to, the origin of this stone, their safety. His magic responded to the touch lazily, too used to connecting with the stone now, and it was that tingle that pushed him onwards, causing Merlin to walk up to the front of the room and take the pen.
While they had no modern technology, Hunith had made sure Merlin (and, by extension, Will) could read and write. Almost everyone on the Island could read and write, but not that many could do it as well as Hunith had taught them to.
The pen - a biro from years ago, quite possibly the last one in the world - didn't work as Merlin made to write his name and so he scribbled in circles, trying to blot the ink down. Behind him, he could feel the whole of the village's stare, but the pen ran and he signed his name simply, a murky blue against an old page.
Hunith and Will came up after, followed by a small collection of determined villagers, each signing their names and their families to the new world. Simmons looked at each of them and nodded, as though his personal praise meant so much. In a way it did, but that couldn't be the only reason why they had to leave Ealdor.
The page slowly filled up, names and families inking themselves into the scrapbook. Simmons turned a page and more signed their names, only a few clusters remaining unyielding.
"Anyone else?" Simmons called out to the room, only to shuffles and silence. No one else stepped forwards and then it was all over. The scrapbook was snapped shut, passed over to Will, who had moved to stand beside the old man when he'd spoken.
"Those who are going, you will need to organise supplies. Take enough for a long journey." Will nodded briskly to the words, flipping his book open again and taking over from Simmons.
"The journey looks to be set at around three to five days by boat, providing the sailing is fair. Take what you need and nothing more. Simmons and I will be going around tomorrow letting you know what you need to do, but tonight is just to get to terms with your decision." Will paused, ducking his head as he looked down at his book.
In the short space of a few days, Will had gone from a troublemaker to someone who had helped organise their escape from the village. He'd been recognised, something he'd craved for years.
Will joined them as they left; the village oddly devoid of human chatter. No one was talking, instead looking around, taking in all they could. It would be one of the last days some would ever spend here and the ones that chose to be left behind would never quite be the same.
"I need to go home and pack a few things up," Will said as they reached his turn off. "But I'll head up if the rain doesn't worsen for dinner, yeah?"
Hunith nodded. "I'm proud of you Will. You've done a great thing today."
With that, she left, leaving Merlin and Will alone. It was the first time since Merlin had revealed his magic that they'd been alone together and Merlin was slightly anxious.
"Please don't come up with something sappy to match your mum. She's wonderful and all, but it just wouldn't work for you." Will grinned, tucking his scrapbook under his arm more, trying to shield it against the rain.
"The most you'll ever get from me is a well done," Merlin muttered, narrowing his eyes as he looked up. "Will we even be able to sail? It looks like another storm's about to close in."
Will followed his eye line upwards, to the stony-grey clouds and the thick rain.
"Maybe," he said softly, sighing. "But I'd rather die out there than wait here and do nothing."
There was a silence between them, the rain pattering down and the waves sloshing against the shore, the music to their lives.
"Could you control it? With your magic, could you give us time to get there?" While he wasn't looking directly at Merlin, the words still carried a heavy weight, wrapping themselves around Merlin.
In all honesty, Merlin didn't know. He had done something last night, but what that actually was, he had no idea. Magic wasn't something he had learnt or read about, it was a carnal power inside of him. Hunith hadn't mentioned his magic other than a few discussions - mostly about what Merlin could do and what he'd been able to when he was younger - so there really was nothing for him to learn off the back from.
He could ask about his father, but Merlin had tried to bring the subject up a short while ago and hadn't been able to stand the sadness and guilt in Hunith's eyes. She still felt guilty about lying to him and even though he was still processing the news, still angry at her for keeping it from him, he didn't want her to blame herself. It wasn't what people did, not when you could die at any moment, as horrific and depressing as that sounded.
"I don't know," Merlin answered truthfully, looking behind them to the village square. "I don't know anything, not really."
What use was his magic when all it could do was connect with a stone to look at a crumbled garden? They knew Camelot existed thanks to Merlin's magic, but what use was it if they just died on the way there?
"I have all this power, I can feel it, but what good is it when I can't do anything?" He wasn't scared to admit these fears to Will. They shared almost everything (including the more unsavoury things such as Will's sex dreams) and this wasn't something Merlin could turn to Hunith about.
"I can't do anything, Will," Merlin said, his shoulders slumping. "I can't save us, either way."
Rain began to soak through to his skin as he waited for an answer.
"Merlin," Will began, turning his friend around until they faced each other. "We don't need you to save us. Whatever happens, whether we live or we die, where we choose to go... it's up to us. Your magic isn't supposed to guide every single one of us and it's already done so much."
Merlin met Will's eyes. He was smiling, open and honest.
"After all the stories we grew up on, you probably think you have this great destiny or something to save everyone, but we don't need it. You can't save everyone, but you've given us a way out." Will's voice was strong and Merlin wanted to believe him. He could have so easily too, except for the words of a dragon.
But Will didn't know about the dragon. No one knew about the dragon, the very same creature that had insisted he needed to save his people. Had he really done enough that it constituted as saving them?
"Go home, you're over thinking this. Just because you can glow in the dark doesn't give you supreme power over the world." Will laughed, but he meant everything in his words. "You're just an Islander and while we're fucking amazing, we're just normal people. I don't know why you have it in your head that you need to save us all, but we'll get by."
The words weren't kind, but they were said with good intent. Will cared for him, but he wouldn't buy into the fantasy that Merlin could save them all just because he had magic. To Will, Merlin was just his friend, just the Islander.
Will clasped him on the shoulder and nodded, telling him he'd be up later. Merlin watched his friend go before looking up, blinking through the rain, willing it to stop.
It didn't, even when Merlin reached for his ball of power.
.
There were celebrations the night before they left, a great feast held inside of the village hall. Not everyone made it, some preferring to spend the last of their island life alone in their family homes, but Merlin, Will and Hunith were all present, laughing to old stories and anecdotes.
They returned home in good spirits, Hunith smiling as she linked arms with Merlin. Even though it was raining, spirits remained high for the pair and they sat down in the kitchen, going through the possessions they no longer needed, telling stories of their own.
"Remember this ladle?" Hunith said with a soft smile, picking up a wooden ladle from the kitchen cupboard. "It belonged to your great-grandmother, carved by a friend."
"Really?" Merlin asked, looking up from where he'd been cradling an old toy horse.
Hunith shook her head, "Not really. It probably was just in a pile of junk somewhere and my mum picked it up. She was like that." She paused, in memory of the family she had lost. "It's just nicer to think that everything has a story and that I can remember them all. Even after we're gone, all of this will remain. This house will just stand here until the water finally breaks it apart, but when you think of all the memories..."
She broke off, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter though. What matters is you and Will and the rest of the island. I love you, Merlin, and I don't need a house to prove it."
They went to bed shortly after, but sleep evaded Merlin. He held the Obsidian in his hands, feeling the rush and the call to Camelot, but he couldn't see anything. The dark surface remained just a surface, no calling to enter the new world of Camelot, no pull of the magic inside of the stone.
He fell asleep with the stone pressed up against his cheek and woke uncomfortably, the stone half under his pillow and half under his cheek. For a moment nothing connected and Merlin lay still in bed, listening to the waves outside and the light pattering of rain against his window. It was a calm day, good.
It all fell into place suddenly, like a ball dropping from a great height. Today they were to leave Ealdor, run the seas to Camelot.
Bolting out of bed, Merlin changed his clothes, stuffing his pyjamas into the bag he was taking, slinging it onto his back. He charged down the stairs, breathless as he entered the kitchen to a sombre Hunith, a small book clutched in her hands. She turned as Merlin entered, smiling.
"Here," she said, holding out the book. It was bound in dark leather, the pages worn and well-loved. "Your father came to the Island with a bag full of books. None of them were soaked through; he used a spell to keep them dry, keep them safe."
Hunith moved around the kitchen, keeping herself busy as she prepared breakfast.
"He loved that one more than the others. Story books, all of them, not a hint of magic amongst them so it's not exactly helpful," Hunith bit her lip, moving forward suddenly with her hands reaching for the book. "It's silly, just a storybook about dragons. You can just leave it."
Tucking the book against his chest, Merlin shook his head. "No, no I want to keep it."
Relief settled over his mother's face before she broke into a smile, moving to Merlin's side and pressing him into a motherly cuddle. Her own bag sat on the kitchen table and, after tucking the book into his rucksack, Merlin put his bag next to hers.
"We have time for breakfast before we have to go down," Hunith said, and they ate the last of their porridge, soaking in the last of their life here, their history of past generations - all of whom had lived here since the great floods.
It was hard for Merlin to leave, but he knew a little of what Camelot held and knew he had someone waiting for him. Hunith didn't know what was waiting for them except that it was a place her husband had fled and never talked about. What did it feel like to leave a safe haven - a family home - not knowing what you were about to face?
They did it though; together they left the house and their pasts, Hunith reaching for her son's hand as they walked. They were soon joined by other villagers, all making their way down to the coast, to the point at the shore where the fishing boats set off from. It was the most southern part of the island, a little rocky shore jutting out into the ocean.
Some of the boats were loaded already, skippers paddling them out a little with expertise so that empty boats could be set into the water, more people filling them up.
Around them, the air was sad, but there were also laughs and smiles, villagers who were staying wishing those leaving well and vice versa. No one was crying - at least not yet anyway - but people were hugging, shaking hands, a village built from the scraps of the Old World parting for their futures happily, kindly.
"There you are!" Will approached them from the side, his own bag slung on his shoulders. "Ready to go?"
No. In all honesty, Merlin wasn't ready to go. He wasn't ready to leave the safety of his Island and put all his faith in the Ocean and a boat. How far away was Camelot? Too far?
"Come on," Hunith said softly and Merlin saw his fears magnified in her eyes.
This was it. All his life Merlin had dreamt of bigger, dreamt of finding something amazing and life changing, and now that he had, he was scared. Justifiably so, but in all the stories he'd made up, all the adventures he'd had, fear had never been there.
Real life was different. In real life you could die, you could get hurt and... and you could be happy, safe.
Old Man Simmons stood by the makeshift dock, shaking hands with everyone who was making their way to sit down in the boats. For a moment, Merlin wondered why he was stood so straight, back ramrod and face stern, until he realised that Simmons, for all his preach of the New World and their salvation, wouldn't be coming with them.
"You're staying," he said as he reached Simmons, hand clasped between two wrinkled ones. Hunith was already on the boat, settling their place and turning to neighbours, sharing nervous smiles.
"I am," Simmons said with a dip of his head. "Your world doesn't need people like me, even if I made the trip."
There wasn't a hint of regret in his tone and Merlin knew why. The seas were too harsh for anyone, let alone an old man. He would just waste resources that would be better spent on the younger villagers, the people who would grow in a place like Camelot.
"I'll gladly die with this land under me, even if we're covered in water." Simmons offered a gruff smile before he leant towards Merlin, lips close enough to his ear that only Merlin would hear the words.
"You have all the qualities a leader needs by his side. You're not blinded by greed, but you overlook the larger picture. Your father was similar, but your talent stretches far beyond that." Simmons' eyes were watery as he pulled back ever so slightly, resting a gnarled hand on Merlin's shoulder. "If I had to place my trust in anyone, you'd be the one I'd have chosen to save us."
Merlin didn't know Simmons well. They weren't friends or even very good acquaintances. Merlin had never asked after Simmons and Simmons probably had never asked after him, but that was fine. They ran in different circles, despite being confined to the same patch of land.
What he said, though, struck Merlin deeply. Here was a man - a leader, despite how small his people - telling him he'd trust Merlin with their salvation. Not Will, not Hunith, not Matthew or anyone with something important to say, but Merlin.
"Thank you," he whispered in reply, squeezing the man's hand.
He didn't agree with everything Simmons had done (it was easy to feel the loneliness and pain of Mary Collins though Simmons' wrinkled skin), but the man had done what he'd thought best for his people. His words meant a lot, even though they were practically from a stranger's mouth.
The boat rocked as Merlin stepped into it, holding his arms out to balance himself, steadily moving to sit by Hunith. She smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and looking back to where Will was talking to Simmons.
"This is it," she said, turning her gaze out to the open ocean. "The start of our new lives."
So caught up in fearing they'd die before they got there, Merlin had forgotten to think of what they'd be going towards. They had their hope, but he'd never thought of what actually reaching Camelot would mean.
He smiled, glancing at Will as he shuffled on the boat, squeezing on the same row as Hunith and Merlin. More people settled on their boat too, until Simmons nodded and Matthew, their skipper, manoeuvred the boat along the shore, the waves sloshing against the side.
Some sea spray covered Merlin's shoes as the boat moved against the waves, but other than that there were no problems. Matthew steered the boat through the bigger waves expertly, keeping the boat in place while they waited for the remaining villagers, eyes fixed, like the rest of them, at the sad shape their Island made.
Then, without fuss or pomp, Matthew pushed away from the shores, curving through the waves on their little boat, joining the small fleet of people from Ealdor. Around him, the villagers were waving to those who had chosen to stay behind, cheers following them as they rode the waves. Merlin joined in, waving his arm back and forth to his home, his past and a world he'd never see again.
They sailed onwards, despite the light rain and the deep waves, slicing through the waters as if they were simply on a fishing trip. The other boats were still close, though they'd all drifted apart as the skippers navigated the waves, different styles, approaches and experiences. While Matthew was one of the few who cut through waves, younger skippers tended to try to steer away from the rougher waves, around them even though it may take longer.
For three days, the sailing was okay. There were times when they all gripped one another, but they made it through easily. The supplies that had been packed were rationed out sensibly and stored away, out of direct temptation.
Despite that though, the mood fell into irritation and tiredness. The children on board weren't happy, the adults around Merlin weren't happy. When the rain let up it was a welcome relief, until the sun glared down, hot and glinting off of the sea. They all smelt, were crusted with sea salt and constantly hungry and tired, after only three days.
Merlin didn't like to think about how many more they had to endure.
On the fourth day, everything changed.
It began with the darkening of the skies and Hunith pulling a blanket over them, shielding them from the main brunt of the rainfall. The waves around the boat became rougher, rocking the boat even as Matthew attempted to navigate. Merlin knew that this wasn't something that could be sailed through and gripped the wood underneath him, clinging to the seat.
The wind picked up, ripping their blankets down and carrying them away over the ocean. The boats they had set out were lost out in the storm, either too far away and lost or simply unable to be seen through the thick rain and the raging waves.
The storm didn't let up either and the wails of the villagers set in around Merlin, crowding around him as though he was the one who had caused this. It wasn't directed specifically at Merlin, but he felt it nonetheless, pushing him, whispering in his ear as the wind howled and pushed at them, trying to tear them apart.
Lightning flashed above them and mighty roars of thunder seemed to shake the very seas themselves, but Matthew stayed their course, muscles straining as he worked the boat, belting out orders for the men helping him.
Even a great skipper such as Matthew was no match for the second day of the storm. He was tired and all it took was his arm to slip once, muscles cramping, and the boat tilted slightly, front knocking against the very wave he'd been trying to steer out of, causing the boat to rock dangerously, throwing its passenger weight around.
Hunith's hand was slippery in Merlin's as the boat tilted, waves battering it as Matthew lost control, rain and sea spray covering them all. Screams filled the air, blocking out even the wind and the thunder.
They'd never make it. Everything Merlin had seen, the dragon and Mary pressing him to save them... all of it was lost as the boat rocked, waves throwing it around like a toy in a bath. Perhaps Spirits did exist and they'd finally caught some of the last Islanders, toying with them like rag dolls in a child's hand.
A giant wave rose up, dark and glittering with white horses. The world tilted, rolling over and over, Merlin unable to gather thoughts let alone his magic to right the world, and then suddenly Hunith's hand was slipping from his, Will was falling away from him and the people he knew, the Islanders he loved, were vanishing one by one.
The cold of the sea shocked Merlin as he hit the water, air rushing from his lungs, no matter how much Merlin knew he needed it. The waves raged above him, but he sunk downwards, eyes open despite the sting of salt.
He was alone. In the calm under the surface, in the darkness of the Ocean and the storm, Merlin was all alone, heading for the bottom of the sea. All of his dreams had told him about this moment - warning him? - and yet he'd believed in some vision, a holographic-dragon of all things.
Darkness began to crowd around Merlin, choking him and pushing him down. His body jerked, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen and he closed his eyes, head hitting the bottom of the sea, something that had never happened in his dreams because it had always signalled his death.
It had never been time before, but now, with light dancing before him in the sea, rippled by the waves, he'd sunk down as far as he could. There was nothing more, just the darkness, no family, no friends, so Merlin let go completely.
.