Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin
"Sire, I found something," Gaius said as his eyes skimmed through the opened tome before him. His eyes were bloodshot from the long hours spent on research within the small chambers they were forced into. Since more and more people where trained in the arts of healing and less people were needed to train, Gaius was able spend his full time, along with Gwen, Mithian, Arthur, and the occasional knight, on researching every book available for information on the creatures that now invaded the kingdom. However, they crowded the physician's chambers and poor Helena eventually had to kick them out so she couln focus on her own patients.
The room they now sat in was a small guest chamber converted to their own purposes. Servants had gone and removed the furniture, which was replaced by a single large table and enough chairs for all who participated in research. The mountains of books that they had managed to find, many recently found hidden beneath floorboards in the library, stood stacked upon the table, each tome covered in years of dust that had clung to every nook and cranny of the books, even after the tomes were pulled off their shelf. The books had stayed unused for years; few were used for Nemeth never found need for the information within, unlike in Camelot where Gaius had to perform extensive studies to combat against the magical threats that often occurred. The group delved further into the books, most of which had never been so immersed in the topic of magic before. Arthur would still shift uncomfortably in his spot as a rare book would give detailed explanations on certain enchantments. Whenever this occurred, Arthur often found the Nemethian Princess shooting a stubborn glare at the King; she was still challenging his views on magic and his refusal to see the wrongs of Uther's teachings.
It was all Arthur could do to keep his stubborn hold onto his father's teachings.
Though there were multiple time before that had left him in doubt over whether magic was truly evil, Arthur still wanted to full immerse himself into the belief. How else can he view magic when his people were slaughtered before its ruthless attacks? Or how both his parents were brought to their deaths from magic's carelessness? Even his sister, his kind, loving sister, degraded into a mad woman under the taint of magic. Nothing he had seen left him to believe magic was good.
Yet he found himself in thoughts of the rarely seen good magic and the undeserved suffering those accused of sorcery and those who had magic endure, all of which the King had experienced and observed over the years. The mysterious, blue orb of light that guided him to safety when he found himself trapped in the cave trying to find the Mortaeus flower for his dying servant. The unicorn that meant no harm that he had killed without a second thought. Balinor, the last Dragonlord, tricked then hunted down far beyond Camelot's borders, left to live alone in caves and never to lead a normal life. The druid child mercilessly hunted down by his father and the deceased child that had possessed Elyan for the wrongs done against him.
But most importantly, during past couple of months, Arthur could not help but think of his servant; the most recently revealed sorcerer. Arthur felt hurt, betrayal and concern swirled within him, and each battled for dominance, every time he thought of Merlin.
No. He couldn't allow himself to view the boy in a good light. Magic was a disguise, a monster hidden behind a friendly façade. Monsters were not to be trusted.
Monsters were not to be pitied.
No. Not even when they were beaten to the ground. Not even while the whip bit cruelly into their skin. Not even when left behind to endure months of living hell.
Monsters could not be pitied.
Let them get what they deserve. Humans who fell to the seduction of magic were weak. The promises and wonders, the power, magic gave would only turn against them; it made them hunger for more at their own expense and those around them. Sorcerers lost their right as humans the moment they opened the spell book and recited their first spell.
Still that nagging thought remained in Arthur's mind, of his once best friend in the witch's clutches. Often times, as his mind drifted from the tome sitting before him, Arthur would wonder about the goings of Camelot and of the condition his manservant was in. It was moments such as these that it was not just concern for the boy, and not even the betrayal, that made Arthur want to reject everything he had learned about magic. To stubbornly argue with Mithian and Gaius, to turn away at Guinevere's disapproving look whenever he said something particularly against magic, it was all a ruse to that kept the King detached from any real emotions associated to magic or more specifically the people who used sorcery. It was while Arthur had found himself once again pondering over magic when Gaius had interrupted him in discovery.
With a sigh, Arthur stood from his place on the table, walked towards Gaius, and leaned over the old man's shoulder to read what Gaius had discovered. From around the table Mithian and Gwen, along with Leon, who had left the soldiers' training in the hands of Elyan, glanced up at the two and waited for the news.
"What is it Gaius?" Arthur asked.
"Not much I'm afraid, Sire, but at least some idea to what we are dealing with," responded Gaius, his fingers tracing through the words. "Based on the description here, I can identify the creatures as chimeras. They are creatures of the Old Religion that can be summoned to aid High Priestesses."
Arthur waited for more, but Gaius merely looked at him, "That's it?"
"I'm afraid so, Sire."
"After searching for days, can't we find a single book that can tell us how to rid ourselves of them, only a name?" Arthur asked, frustration and anger grew as he moved away from Gaius and planted his hands flat against the table to stare at the grains in the wood in thought.
"These books, unfortunately, can only provide a small portion for the type of information we seek. Any books that provide more than what we have here can be considered treason according the laws Nemeth adopted to stay in an alliance with Camelot while the books that were found hidden does not cover much on the creatures of magic."
"So what use is it having the name?" Arthur shouted, losing control as he felt their chances to reclaim the throne slipping. Silence fell on the group after his outburst. Moments later, Arthur straightened himself and pinched the bridge of his nose when he turned to Gaius again, "Sorry Gaius, I just feel…"
"Helpless?" Gaius asked, his eyebrow rose at the King, "Sire, we are not without options."
"And what other options are there, Gaius?" Arthur asked and though the frustration was still present if a bit calmed down.
Gaius hesitated, glanced at the book again before he looked up to the King, "I believe we should look to others more… knowledgeable on this."
"I only know of you who could provide the most information, who else can inform us?" Arthur asked, confused.
"I suggest we seek out the druids for answers, Sire."
Arthur gave Gaius a look, one that told the physician that the King believed him to be out of his mind for giving such an idea. It was at this moment that Gwen chose to speak up.
"The druids would really be our only choice. Who else could it be that knows magic as much as a community surrounded by it?"
Rubbing his face, Arthur sighed, "Even if we can find them here, why would the druids help out someone who has hunted down their kinds for years?"
"But did you not decide to respect and even refrained from persecuting their people? Surely they will recognize that you are different from the previous regime and would want to make peace."
"Do not forget that, if the druids in this area are anything like the ones we have seen in Camelot, they will be loyal to Emrys. They would not wish harm to an important figure in their prophecies. If we were to inform them of Morgana's hunt for him, they may be more obliging to help," supported Gaius.
Arthur mulled over the idea before his shoulders slumped in resignation. He did not want to go for help to the druids, but they could not turn away from the possibility for more support in the coming war. If they could get the druids aid, they may be able to help with not just these chimeras, but also the sorcerers. For the good of his people, Arthur knew he must at least attempt it. In the back of his mind, Arthur heard a voice mock him in his hypocritical plan to enlist the help of druids yet not want accept magic.
"Mithian, do you know if there are any local groups of druids nearby?" Arthur turned to the princess and his inquisitive eyes met hers.
Mithian matched his gaze with one of wariness, "I know of one."
"Would you show us the way?" Arthur asked.
Mithian waited, as if pondering over the question, before she lifted up her chin and replied, "Yes, as long as I am not leading death to them."
Arthur looked away while he shifted uncomfortably then gave Mithian a nod in agreement, "I promise we will harm none. As for when to leave, shall we prepare to go now? The faster we meet them, the faster we know what we are dealing with. Elyan send for Leon, we will leave within the hour."
Elyan gave a nod then left the room.
"Then I will inform my father," Mithian said as she stood and left the room too. As the princess was exiting the room, she had to maneuver around a young servant boy, one of the refugees from Camelot, who had come to deliver a message.
"Sire," the boy said with a deep bow, "a message from King Rodor."
Arthur extended his hand, which the boy carefully placed the scroll and, with another bow, the servant left the room. Arthur opened the message and read; as his eyes traveled down the scroll, his face grew pale. He then found himself placing the parchment before Gaius on the table then he slumped into the chair beside the physician, his hands limp upon the arms of the chair.
"No," sounded Gaius' strangled whisper as he too read through the message.
Guinevere looked between the two, and then settled on Arthur, "What happened? What does it say?"
"It's a recent report from Kind Rodor's messenger that was sent to Essetir. King Lot has decided to join us in our endeavor against Morgana," Arthur said, his voice detached, still in shock over the contents of the parchment. The messengers were sent again recently to a few kingdoms, in hope that their more impressive army would fare better to convince the kings to aid their endeavors against the witch.
"That's good, isn't it? We have the full support of another kingdom," Gwen said. The Queen bit her lips in worry as she wondered over Arthur's strange reaction. He should be happy rather than the dejected attitude he was expressing now.
"Yes it is, but it says there was an attack against Essetir from Morgana, one that is forcing Lot to take action in fear of another attack."
"Why would Morgana attack Essetir?" Gwen asked incredulously, though she had a foreboding idea of the reason.
"King Lot wondered as well, especially against such a small farming village."
Dread grew, Guinevere understood the implication but she knew she needed the confirmation, "Which village?"
"Ealdor," Arthur whispered, eyes unfocused as he remember of the village of good people who struggled daily to survive, the people whom he had taught to defend themselves and who had sheltered him in his own time of need, "was found burnt to the ground."
"And the people?"
"It doesn't say names, but according to what it says," Arthur gestured at the parchment, "half the villagers were found slaughter in their homes while the others were found spread out in the surrounding area and villages."
Gwen felt her heart stop; her hand flew over her mouth as she tried to process the news.
"Morgana must be getting desperate," Gaius said, his shoulders more slumped than before as the grief he kept well hidden weighed him down even more.
"We should leave for the druids now, I can't imagine how much time we have left, not when she's going to such extreme measures," Arthur agreed.
"I hope Hunith made it out," Gwen said reproachfully, wringing her hands. She could not help but think of the slaughter Morgana had brought upon the peaceful village, the suffering those who died had gone through the pain that would be promised to Hunith if she had been caught as well. Gwen glanced towards Arthur to which he met with one of depressed knowing; they knew that Morgana targeted the village in another effort to get Merlin to talk. Whether she got what she had wanted was unknown, the uncertainty of which enough to make the royal couple tremble in fear for their kingdom.
Arthur stood once again, mentioned something on preparing the horses, and then walked out. All the while Gaius was carefully rerolling the parchment, his hands still trembled in concern for his friend in Ealdor. Though he wanted to believe Hunith escaped Morgana's men, Gaius knew that the women had slim chances of surviving. With that thought, Gaius took a deep breath to calm him and composed his face into that of the calm, levelheaded physician he was when dealing with patients.
"For now, there's nothing we can do but hope Hunith did escape in time. Let us go help Helena attend to her patients," said Gaius as he gave the parchment one last look before leaving. Gwen gave a quick nod before she followed with her mind still on the kind woman in the green headscarf.
"You know Merlin, as infuriating as it is not getting you to speak, it's been fun," said Morgana, her hand grasped Merlin's hair and pulled his head back so that his pain-glazed eyes were on her. "If it wasn't for your knowledge of Emrys, you would have been dead long ago for all the trouble you caused me."
Morgana let him go before she slinked off to a table at the side of the room and placed a dagger back. Merlin groaned as he felt every inch of his body in pain from the few slices that Morgana had carefully carved into him with an enchanted blade. Each cut caused him to feel as if his insides were being gouged out, and though the wounds themselves weren't deep, the pain burned throughout his entire body. It was all he could do not to scream for each time Morgana's blade bit into his skin.
"I already got reports of smoke from the direction of your little village by the way. I wish I was there to see it, it must have been a beautiful sight," Morgana laughed as she picked up a coil of rope. Her hand stroked the fibers as though it was a beloved pet and then she turned to her prisoner.
Merlin stared at the witch defiantly while he still attempted to even out his ragged breathing. Morgana returned to where Merlin stood chained to the wall and, with a flick of her wrist, caused the chains to fall from Merlin's manacles, taking away the only support Merlin had. After his chained arms held up part of the his body for months, Merlin's legs buckled under sudden weight of his body and caused the servant to crash to the ground with only his arms taking a brunt of the force from the landing. The servant gasp out in pain as his left wrist twisted into an awkward position, not far enough to do significant damage, but enough that left his wrist throbbing from where it had landed encased in manacles.
With another gesture of her hand, guards outside entered the cell and grabbed ahold of each arm, lifting Merlin back onto his feet in front of the witch. One more flick of her wrist separated the manacle and allowed his arms apart.
"Pull his arms behind him," ordered Morgana as she circled the trio and reattached the chains behind the servant once the guards secured them in place. Then, quickly, wrapped and knotted the rope's end to the manacles, making sure it was properly secured before she handed the other end to one of the guards.
"Put that through the pulley," gestured Morgana to above the sorcerer. The guard complied, pulled it all the way through but left a bit f slack on the rope. With a nod of her head, the guard, who still held onto Merlin, bowed and left to stand guard outside the cell once again while the other guard remained to hold the rope. Without the guard support, Merlin nearly fell to the ground, stopped by the strain in his shoulders as the rope pulled his arms up into a direction it was incapable of doing. Though his legs were shaky from disuse, Merlin forced himself to stay on his feet to keep pressure off his shoulders and arms. While Merlin struggled in his new position, Morgana stood before the servant once more, admiring the results.
"I could only imagine the screams your mother made when Tara tore her apart," Morgana taunted with a smirk spread across her face. Merlin spat into Morgana's face in retaliation; the witch merely wiped the spittle off and gave the guard a nod. The guard tugged the rope, which forced Merlin to gasp out in pain as his arms were forced up his back, putting tension onto his shoulders. After a moment, the guard allowed slack back into the rope and a little of the tension eased.
"Now Merlin, no need to be rude," Morgana said coldly. It was at this moment when the cell doors opened once more. Two more guards, neither the guard that was currently stood guarding the cell, entered, dragging between them a ragged figure. A young man, clad in typical druidic clothing, was marred in cuts and bruises; he look to be barely conscious.
"Merlin, why don't you meet my druid friend here? Since coming here, they have been next to impossible to find, my men have only found a few. We found this one skulking at the border trying to leave. Of course I ordered all my men to capture any druids leaving; you're not the only one who knows about Emrys, yet they are as tight lipped as you are," Morgan said while she walked towards the other prisoner and gave him a quick kick in the gut.
"We are loyal only to the Once and Future King and," the man gasped, doubled over in pain, and gave a quick glance to Merlin, "Emrys. I will not support the bloodshed you will bring upon this land."
"I am promising freedom, for the first time in years, to all the magic users but here you are calling it bloodshed?" sneered Morgana.
"What you call freedom is forcing every sorcerer you find into your army. Those who refuse you are tortured until they give in or die. Even those without magic, those who are powerless against you, fear you. The gods have mercy on any of your subjects if you or one of your followers heard them speak ill against you. You are the same tyrant Uther was during the Purge; actually, you are worse than Uther, at least Uther did not have the capabilities of finding those who did not want to be found nor did he murdered as he pleases," spat the druid.
Morgana turned to the table and picked up the enchanted knife once again. Then she walked up and jammed it into the man's shoulder as Merlin shouted for her to stop, unable to turn his eyes away as the druid drew back his head and screamed. The knife was buried to the hilt in the man's shoulder, Merlin could only imagine the pain the man was feeling if it was already unbearable from the shallow cuts he had received. After a moment, the witch wrenched the dagger out, leaving the druid breathless, with only the guards keeping him upright on his knees.
"Never compare me to Uther Pendragon again," shouted Morgana, blood splattered from the knife onto her black dress and across her crazed face. "Now tell me who is Emrys!"
"I'll rather die," groaned the young man, still shaken from the pain the knife caused.
"As you wish," Morgana smiled coldly. The witch began to incant, her hand splayed toward the druid. Her eyes flashed in gold when she finished the incantation and the druid began to writhe in agony, the agony too much for him to voice it. Merlin watched in horror as the druid's body began to convulse, causing his arm to be wrenched out of the guards grasp. Though it was minutes, it felt like hours to Merlin before the man finally stopped convulsing, his body stilled. Morgan walked over to the body and gave it a kick before walking back to Merlin.
The witch leaned towards Merlin, whispering, "This is what happens to those who refuse to recognize their Queen. I have been too lenient with you Merlin, so this is your final chance. I will make you speak, Merlin, and when you do, if you don't give in now, I will kill you. I promise you, your death will not be quick."
"Never," Merlin whispered back.
"Then you will suffer all the more."
Morgana stood back with a smile, placed the dagger once more on the table, then turned to the guard, "All the way up before you tie the rope."
With that, Morgana left the dungeons as the guard began to pull the rope again, this time he pulled as far as it can go, lifting Merlin up with a few inches between his feet and the ground. Merlin gave a groan as his body was double over and his arms were forced up again. When the full weight of his body was on his shoulders, the guard tied the rope to a hook on the wall before leaving the sorcerer alone.
It was all Merlin could do not to scream as his shoulders began to give to the weight of his body, the strain too much for the joints to handle. Even after all the weight the lack of nourishment had caused him to lose since captured, his body weighed far too much for his shoulders. Pain lanced through his arm when his left shoulder finally gave, the joint forced out of his socket that caused Merlin to scream in agony. Soon after his right shoulder was dislocated as well and forced out another hoarse scream from Merlin. Tears slid down from his eyes as he gasped out for a breath.
It had been minutes, or even hours, Merlin was not sure any more, when the servant's arms went numb from the pain, though his body still trembled. The warlock knew, from his experience of being the ward of a physician, that his arms going numb were not a good sign, only a sign of how severe the damage was to his shoulders, but he felt grateful for the slight relief from that pain. With Morgana gone and the pain gone down to a dull throb, Merlin was able to collect himself enough to think.
The servant couldn't help but ponder over everything he had learned from the witch. His heart clenched in pain as he thought of Ealdor, of his mother, even of the people of Camelot, everyone who had suffered since Morgana took the throne. It was then that Merlin felt fresh tears silently fall down his face.
His village, his mother, his friends, Merlin felt useless as he thought of everyone he had failed, everyone who had suffered for Morgana's gain. From the sounds of it, Morgana had brought about another age of slaughter, one worse than the Purge that Uther's grief had caused decades ago. She hunted magic and non-magic users alike, slaughtering all those who dared stand in her way. Though logically Merlin knew better, it still felt as if he failed to stop Morgana from bringing the kingdom into chaos.
He was there when she came. He had power. He was Emrys, damnit, the most powerful sorcerer to ever live, and yet he had allowed Morgana to take over Camelot for over four months.
He really was pathetic.
He couldn't even save his own mother.
His emotions were roiling, his guilt too much as his silent tears became sobs that racked his punished body. He could feel himself falling to pieces; each day tore another part of him. Outside he hurt. Inside he hurt. He grasped at the straws of sanity and he knew he was at an edge, the breaking point. Hell, he had been at breaking point long ago; he was just too stubborn and loyal to allow himself to give in.
Merlin began to hyperventilate, panic and anxiety rose and, in response to his rising emotions, his magic began to burn more furiously within, as it had for months since bound. The nonstop pain the magical build up had already caused, the pain he was able to keep hidden from the witch out of fear that Morgana would discover that the servant had more power than she realized, increased even more.
He couldn't do this anymore.
He was losing too much.
It was too much for him to bear.
Control of his emotions escape him and left his magic running wild throughout his very self. Merlin began to sob as pain and grief consumed him. The two drenched in the magic the roared through his body and slammed against the barriers the magical restraints had created. His magic lashed out for the first time in months and pushed more and more against the bounds. Soon his magic was beyond his control, he felt as if he was being flayed and gutted alive before his magic's rebellion. The silver chains began to burn white against into his skin as it tried to keep the magic at bay. Merlin's sobs turned into screams, as the pain intensified for his magic had no means of escape. The magic built up even more against the restraints as if sensing it was close to freedom and slowly broke down the barriers.
In a burst of power and pain, his magic broke free, leaving Merlin momentarily breathless. Then he resumed screaming, his voice reaching new levels as his released magic tore through his body, too much for him his mind and body cope. Merlin was so deep in agony that he didn't realize that his shrieks transformed into a deep guttural roar, forming harsh words of a foreign language that none but her understood. All his magic, all his power, saturated into his voice, once again finding purpose since it released from the restraints.
After minutes of screaming, the barriers finally slammed down and closed off the magical release. The remnants were channeled into Merlin's scream before it was finally used up. In the wake of the magical outburst, Merlin went limp, his sight fading as his body tried to drag him into unconsciousness. The magic still churned just beneath surface, but the use of his magic had allowed him to gain a semblance of control over his power again.
Before he gave into the darkness, Merlin thought of his mother again; the woman who softly stroked his hair and sang him to sleep.
Merlin wondered for the first time why he was still fighting.
The wind provided the lift beneath his wings as Kilgharrah flew over the mountainside; his keen eyes searched the land below for prey big enough to appease his hunger. His mind wondered from his task as he contemplated over the last few months. It had been a long time since he had last had contact with his Dragonlord, and though he did not want to admit it, the Great Dragon was worried. Kilgharrah knew he should be glad that his Dragonlord had not a need to contact him, it would mean that he was safe; yet the dragon could not shake the feeling that something had happened. Danger followed the Once and Future King and Emrys around every corner, it was odd that it had remained calm around the two for this long. Nevertheless, Kilgharrah saw no purpose to returning to Camelot without Merlin's call and lest he was in need he would rather be here, leagues away from the kingdom, where he could hunt and live safely without care of being spotter by people.
Kilgharrah angled his body into a steep dive when he spotted a young buck below. His talons were outstretched, ready to grab the animal when something screamed through his head, startling him out of his dive. Kilgharrah barely steadied himself as fear and grief pierced his mind and caused him to hover as he listened to what he knew was a call. After five minutes of processing, the screams stopped and the dragon had already changed his course.
There was only one person who could contact him, and the dragon did not like what he had heard. On the surface the scream and expressed pure agony, both mentally and physically, but the dragon had received the message. The scream also held desperation, one that spoke volumes to the dragon of the situation his warlock was found himself in. He forced power into each wing stroke and urged his body to speed towards his new destination
He wasn't just worried about destiny either. The young warlock, though they had a rough beginning, had become the only thing Kilgharrah could call a friend, and the undercurrent of insanity in his friend's call only served to drive Kilgharrah even faster.
AN: Well slightly late, I still count it as Monday since I haven't slept xD So I was editing this a bit late and right at this moment getting poked and prodded by some weird girl xD, but either way I got chapter 5 ready! I wanted to update earlier but due to exams and work I haven't gotten much of an opportunity until now. I'll try to update faster but expect another update next Monday since right now I have midterms and what not at uni. If there is a moment where I feel I may not be able to update in a week time, I'll inform you all via my profile on what's going on and when you may expect an update. I should still be able to update but just in case it happens, just know I'll make sure to keep you posted on my updates.
Also, thanks so much for all the reviews/favorites/alerts! Seriously didn't expect this much response to my story (I stil can't believe I broke 100 followers o,O), makes me wish I had more time to update faster D: you guys are awesome ! xD
Anyways thanks for reading and reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated!