Chapter One

Merlin hadn't dreamed of Xyla in weeks, perhaps months. That he should suddenly have such a vivid nightmare was strange, to say the least. And unsettling to say a little more.

Xyla screamed somewhere through the murky darkness, and somehow he could tell the scream was directed at him.

"Xyla?" he called, his arms in front of him, trying to wave away the black. "What is it; where are you?"

"Merlin?" Her voice floated to him as though from nowhere or everywhere, filled with pain and tears. "Merlin, I need you."

"I'll come! Where are you?"

"Please find me, Merlin, please. Only you can help… It's so terrible. It's so…terrible…"

Her voice was fading, sending Merlin into pure panic. "No, Xyla, don't leave! Don't! I need to know more!"

"I love you, Merlin." It was quieter than the quietest whisper. "I trust you. You'll find me."

"I can't find you! I can't help you! Xyla!"

Then he sat up in a cold sweat.

The nightmare had been odd. In most of his dreams about Xyla, he could see her. They were together, and laughing, talking, sometimes kissing. And she spoke naturally, joking and being too cute to be true.

Laughter was Xyla. Good intentions mixed with irrational decisions were Xyla. A panicked scream in the blackness was not Xyla. So why would he dream about that…?

He almost didn't want to know.

But, at the same time, he really did.

He didn't get any more sleep that night; he was too busy thinking.

"What do you mean, you don't remember?" snapped Morgana. Her hands were on her hips with her scariest face on, but Morgause was unaffected.

"Sister, I mean exactly what I said," replied the elder of the two, lounging back on her throne-like chair, trying not to get angry. She allowed herself to get angry with anyone but Morgana, because when she got angry, people died. And despite her irritation, she did not want Morgana to die. Morgause rubbed her temples, which had begun to ache.

"You kept saying that Merlin had done something, but you wouldn't tell me what. And now you don't remember?" Morgana, whose anger was much less terrifying than her sister's (though her smiles were deadly), had no qualms about barking at her sister. She folded her arms and leaned back against the table in the middle of the room in this old castle.

"Sister, I hit my head rather hard, if you remember."

Morgana eyed her for a minute before nodding and swooping down to give her sister a hug. "Does it hurt?" she asked softly.

Morgause, the warrior through and through, just shrugged, unwilling to show how her head ached. Morgana guessed anyway.

"I'll go find the healer girl's pack. It has some useful herbs in it."

Morgause put her head in her hands and nodded her thanks. What would she do without her enchanting little sister?

Morgana's heels clicked against the floor and paused by the door. "If you can't remember, Morgause, don't fret." Morgause never fretted. "We'll just ask Merlin himself when he gets here." Then she chuckled and was gone.

Hell.

It was the only thought Xyla had at the moment, repeating over and over like a drum in her head. She wasn't in any mood to find more powerful curses.

Her head.

It hurt.

It hurt very badly, making her curl up into a ball and press her head desperately into her bony knees, hoping that the pressure would either cause the pain to stop… Or make her head implode. Either way was fine with her.

Hell and curses.

Curse you, Morgana. And you, whatever-your-name-is, blondie. And you, Merlin. I'm sure this is your fault.

She swore out loud, wondering if she could beat her head against the wall of the dark cell, or if the stone floor would be better. But moving made her nauseated, so she sat there for an indefinite amount of time.

At last the pain seemed to drain away, just slightly. At least she could breathe and think again.

Oh, that hurt.

She rubbed her head and let herself lean back into the wall of the dungeon, still faintly cursing Morgana for the spell that left her head in such a condition. Dream-sending took a lot of energy.

And it was completely pointless anyway, because Merlin was not going to listen to any silly dreams sent in that whiny voice… For heaven's sake, she never sounded like that! She might have only known Merlin for a week or so, but she was sure he wasn't an idiot. He wouldn't listen to such a stupid dream.

She hoped…

Merlin thought he had finally figured out why he was dreaming of her now. And he didn't like his conclusion.

Getting up, he slipped on and smoothed down his shirt, then reached to grab his neckerchief. He smiled a little, as though for practice, not liking the way it stretched his mouth uncomfortably and unnaturally. But he had to look perky, or Arthur would think something was wrong and ask him about it.

There were so many reasons that he couldn't tell Arthur what he was thinking, but the biggest one was that he just didn't want to. He didn't think he'd ever tell Arthur, but certainly not now, when the memory was only a few days old.

Sighing, he made his way to the door, trying to keep his heavy eyelids open, and opened it.

Just a whiff of the air let him know Gaius had burned something, probably breakfast.

Burned…

Burned hair, burned clothes, dead glass eyes. The words still echoing around the clearing, only heard by him. Traitor, pretender; "I'm doing the right thing"… Gods, how he hated that last one…

Shuddering, Merlin yanked himself back to reality. No, he thought. That is not for thinking. That one is for repressing.

Plastering his normal smile on his face, Merlin walked out the door and began his day.

A/N: I wanted to get everything set up, but hopefully it will longer next time. By the way, I'll be doing some things that I never got into last story. Like the fact that Xyla thought of Merlin as innocent and good, remember? And her grudge against everything Pendragon. I might even poke at Arthur's belief of magic being evil, though I don't plan on this being a reveal. Please, please review?