Herald of the new Age

Briefly, Merlin wondered when Arthur's knack of finding sacred druid places fraught with danger would wear off. He sighed, accepting it as part of the added complications of his destiny.

It's never easy, he thought tiredly.

LINEBREAK Basically, Nimueh meets Merlin at the shrine (it's called the Spring of Shyra). The other knights don't see, some kind of perception filter is up. After a brief confrontation about Gwen, Nimueh offers to show Merlin the future. He refuses, remembering the crystal of Neahtid so she threatens him, stating that it was necessary that he see this:

A dagger with a golden hilt embossed with jewels, a ruby the shape of an eye at the crossbar. It hovers in his central vision, deep fear and hopelessness threatens to overwhelm him. Before he can consider it his gaze moves to the side to meet desperate blue eyes. Arthur. His friend and king looking more defeated than he had ever seen him. His mouth moves silently, shouting out his name but all Merlin can feel is a piercing pain in his chest.

Merlin looks down blearily, briefly wondering how the dagger had found a way into his chest. Looking up at the arm that held the dagger he meets fierce blue eyes clouded in hatred and a sneer he could recognise anywhere…

Gasping and clutching at his chest, Merlin found himself on his knees trembling at the phantom pain in his chest.

"I know what it is you saw, for it is also in my mind," Nimueh intoned gravely. "For what it is worth, I am sorry Merlin."

"Is that the future which will come to pass should I fail?" Merlin asked shakily.

"No," Nimueh said, shaking her head. "It is the future that will come to pass." Merlin's breathing had calmed and he stared at the enchantress, incredulous.

"That's not possible. I have a destiny!" Merlin shouted angrily. "I don't die! Arthur needs me, Albion-"

"Is lost if you die, yes. I know the prophecy. There is no telling how that future could be. Perhaps, now that Arthur is king there is still hope for us-"

"But not for me? Is that what you're saying?" Merlin laughed harshly, shaking his head. "No. The future isn't written in stone," Merlin responded resolutely.

"This one is. The pieces are already in place. There is nothing anyone can do to prevent it now. This is an ancient shrine, used by esteemed seers and it has never been wrong," Nimueh explained solemnly.

"Why would you show me this?" Merlin whispered, his eyes haunted. Nimueh looked at him uncertainly, showing a rare vulnerability.

"I thought you should know. Perhaps, knowing this you could-"

"What? Save myself?" he demanded bitterly, stalking towards her menacingly. "I'm shown a vision of my death, Camelot on its knees and Morgana on the throne and you're telling me the pieces are already in place?" he spat, now inches apart from her. His eyes pierced into hers, unintentionally letting her see the pain and fear of the past eight years. Unable to glare at the soft pity in her eyes for long, Merlin turned away from her and started pacing. He couldn't let himself believe all his work could be for nothing.

But that's not what she said. That's not what he was shown. Sure Morgana was on the throne, but it didn't last long the first time. Everyone was captured, but he hadn't seen Arthur's death. Just his own and really hadn't he always thought that could be a possibility? Arthur was king now. He'd accepted the druids, his closest knights and wife knew about him and they accepted all magic now. They had a chance.

Merlin stopped and sighed wearily. Was this it? The end of his part? Perhaps he wasn't really needed anymore. Resignation came over him and he looked up at the sky. Four grey walls and four grey towers rose above the foliage in the distance, the moon painting it silver, torches lights flickering around the great city, making it look as though it were moving. The light breeze rushed over the trees and Merlin watched it sweep his way. He waited expectantly but the wind passed over him, leaving him untouched and slightly emptier inside.

Without giving Nimueh a second glance, Merlin walked past her into the dark forest. He could feel her eyes on him, watching him fade into the darkness. What little moonlight that passed through the canopy showed his way. In the spaces of darkness, Merlin strode on, eyes locked on to the light ahead of him, treading through the forest as numbness overcame him.

By the time he'd reached the clearing closest to the city, Merlin's clothes were torn and his face scratched from where he'd fallen. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, knowing he needed to call Kilgharrah. He tried to summon the strength to call in the dragon tongue but the emptiness remained, the words unspoken. Looking up he saw Kilgharrah land and gaze at him with those sad, ancient eyes.

"I didn't call you," Merlin croaked, his voice hoarse.

"I felt your pain, Merlin. I assume Nimueh showed you the Spring of Shyra," he replied sadly.

"It is true then, what she says? This future," the great hall in darkness, fire in the streets, familiar dark locks, that knife… "it can't be changed?" he asked, not bothering to hope for a better answer.

"I'm afraid so, though it pains me to admit," Kilgharrah responded. "If there anything I can do, Merlin. You have only to ask." Merlin nodded, accepting the dragon's words and thinking of anything he might be able to do that would mean something. Merlin looked up and met the eyes of his old friend. His dragonkin.

"Yes, there is."

BriefShiningMoment

Not much to say about this really. For what it's worth, everything will be answered later…maybe…