"Are you sure this is the right way?" Morgana asked. She bit down on her lower lip in concern.
"Uhm… yeah," Gwen replied, slightly unsure. "I'm pretty sure it's just forty or so miles on this road. They cloak it so even if you've been here a million times. It's still hard to—"
Gwen slammed on the breaks and the car came to a screeching halt and Morgana flung forward into her seat.
"WHAT THE FUCK AR—Arthur?"
Just as Gwen did, Morgana turned around, a little cranky now that her neck and chest hurt from the deceleration, but she was surprised to see Arthur, who was lying in the back seat. His eyes were wide with horror as he flailed and sat up.
"We need to go back!" Arthur screamed immediately. "Mordred is there! He's going to kill Merlin!"
"Arthur, Arthur!" Gwen yelled over him. "You need to calm down! What is going on? How did you get here?"
Arthur shook his head, still dazed from the teleportation. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think.
"Mordred. The guy from the cave, right? He shows up in Merlin's house and he starts attacking us." Arthur took a hard swallow; he could still see that demon child's head thrashing against Merlin's force-field, trying to get to him—to his Merlin. He shuddered and continued, desperate to push it from his mind. "Merlin created some kind of tunnel, yeah, and teleported me here but... but we have to go back to get him!"
"Alright," Gwen responded with forced calm. She was a Knight. She knew how to do this. "But first we need to get back to HQ and tell them what's going on."
"But—"
"No buts, Arthur!" Gwen yelled. She put the car into drive and slammed her foot down on the gas pedal. "If we go in unprepared we will most likely die. Merlin is strong. He can handle himself. We'll get gear and back up."
Arthur sunk into his seat, knuckles white against the touch fabric. He watched his reflection in the mirror as the car sped down the road.
Hold on Merlin. Hold on.
The boy struggled and thrashed in Merlin's invisible grip. Mordred's eyes were careful. Merlin had the boy in a very risky situation—one wrong move and the boy could die, a loss the Purge could not bear to have.
"Now let's just... all... calm... down..." Mordred said. He raised his hands as a sign of peace and began to walk backwards. "I'm sure we can talk this out, right, kids?"
"Seems you haven't changed at all, eh Mordred?"
Mordred recoiled at the statement and he gave Merlin a confused look before regaining his composure. "I don't know—"
"I wasn't talking to you," Merlin replied. "I was talking to Mordred."
"I assure you I am—" Mordred began, but he was cut off by the boy.
"It's... fine." The boy said, "This... is not... Merlin. He knows." The boy enunciated each word as if it brought him extreme pain.
Merlin dropped his grip on the boy and he fell to the ground with a thump.
"It's been a long time, Dragoon," the boy, Mordred, confessed. He walked in a slow arch around Merlin. He saw Merlin's body, but he saw Dragoon's spirit. "I'm surprised you remember my tricks."
"I could never forget magic as twisted as yours," Merlin retorted.
Mordred laughed, his voice echoing through the room. Even his team mates were a little off set by the sound that he produced. "You mean like this?" Mordred lifted his hand and pulled the cloak off of former Mordred with his magic. Merlin's eyes widened at the sight.
The head was human, but the rest of the body was either missing or replaced with metal. There was no stomach, just a metal pole connecting the legs to the chest, with various wires and electrical equipment blinking and buzzing. Merlin could see that it wasn't just machine, but a blend of machine and magic, technology and the divine, metal and madness.
"Do you like it?" Mordred asked, cocking his head to the side. A sliver of drool escaped his lips. "I... I love it." He raised his hands up and they began to tremble. Merlin took a few steps back and felt the air in the room become thick. "The only thing I'm missing, Dragoon, is a nice power supply." His eyes shot to Merlin, deeply filled with lust and hunger. His pupils became pinpricks as the images of Merlin's naked body, cut, sliced, ripped, shredded on his table, filling his body with his own magical metal, his own spirit. His groin began to warm and ache in response. He needed to taste Merlin's heart, his blood—he needed the sin to rush past his lips and fill the void of his existence.
It was a near miss. Mordred's hand grazed Merlin's chest, his sharp nails slicing a thin layer of skin off. Merlin flew backwards in an attempt to dodge the child's assault, and Mordred's eyes turned red in anticipation. Merlin was very fast, very fast indeed, and Mordred loved it when they put up a good fight.
He loved it even more when they screamed.
His feet twitched as he pushed off the air, changing directions at breakneck speeds. Merlin faded through the wall behind him, going outside into the darkness.
"Gimme... Gimme... Gimme... GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMMME!" Mordred screamed. The windows shattered through the house and Mordred erupted through the dry wall.
Merlin felt like Mordred was moving faster and faster as time went by. Each blow was quicker, harder to dodge. The energy, Dragoon, was fading.
Mordred's fist landed in Merlin's stomach and it forced Merlin to fly backwards. He landed, sliding against the ground as he did. He stood up, feeling weak in his knees. Mordred stood just a few meters in front of him, a large grin on his face, a twisted smile stretching from cheek to cheek.
Merlin's eyes began to fade back to their normal color. His stomach hurt like nothing he had ever felt before, like something was—
"Doesn't feel right without your liver... does it?"
Merlin watched in horror as Mordred's hand snaked around from behind his back. It was hard to see with just the moonlight, but Merlin didn't need to be told what the black mass was in his hands; he could feel it missing in his stomach. Mordred brought the mass up to his lips and began to lick it, moaning with each swipe of his tongue.
"I tried for your heart... but damn, you're fast," Mordred mockingly praised. Merlin felt his head become light. Blood was pouring into the cavity that was in his chest. How could he have been so stupid? Why didn't he just go with Arthur? Arthur. Arthur. Merlin thought to Arthur. It had been the last time he was ever going to see him.
Mordred was in front of him, only inches away. His bloody hand grabbed Merlin's arm and he threw him towards the mansion. Merlin slammed through two sets of dry wall before stopping dead in the living room. Mordred held out his hand and a gentle red light began to glow and shimmer. It slowly shot out from his hand, no faster than a butter fly.
Merlin's eyes were barely open. His mind was flooded with images of the could be, should be, won't be. The cave, their marriage, would Arthur still kill himself?
Arthur. He loved—
Merlin saw the red light in front of his face. It was gentle and comforting, and in the distance he could hear Mordred's laughter. He only had time to shed a single tear or regret, of sorrow, of Arthur, before the heat engulfed him, and then with a quick pull, he felt himself slide out of this world.
"So, what do you have to report?"
Gwen pulled her backpack off her back and set it on the table in front of the commander. Morgana and Arthur stood silently behind her as she pulled out various papers and maps.
"We were able to secure the location of the dragon and facilitate his escape, sir. Lance..." Gwen hesitated for a second before regaining her composure. "Lance was killed in action. A man named Mordred was there, offering a small boy to sacrifice to complete the ritual. He is currently at the Bane residence about eight hundred kilometers from here in a confrontation with Merlin, an unregistered warlock."
The commander nodded and his eyes drifted around the room until landing on Arthur and Morgana. Gwen took notice and immediately knew to explain.
"This is Arthur Pendragon and Morgana le Fey. Arthur is a skilled swordsman and is interested in joining the Knights. Morgana is a witch, and she helped me secure the dragon, sir."
"Our first priority needs to be to secure this Merlin. I would like you three to return to the mansion and help Merlin to escape. This isn't our first dealing with Mordred. I need you to be careful. Take any supplies you need. You are dismissed."
It was morning. Arthur had hoped that it wouldn't have been this long and the smoke would have had you think differently. It billowed from the pile of wood and metal that was in front of them. Arthur had been too late. Arthur had been too late. Too. Late. His eyes drifted along the rubble.
Arthur.
Arthur swore he heard something.
Arthur.
He ran to the sound.
Arthur.
He tripped over some rubble.
Arthur.
He started to dig.
Arthur.
His hands bled as he sliced them on sharp metal and rough wood.
Arthur.
He was so close. "Hold on, Merlin!" he screamed.
Arthur.
And there he was. Black etched into the ground. The shape of a body, barely recognizable, just a silhouette scorched deep into the earth. There was a shinny piece of metal which shimmered, even though most of the light was being soaked up by the smoke.
The ring. Arthur picked it up. The red jewel was faint against the tarnished metal. My Merlin.
He placed the ring on his hand, right where Merlin would have kept it, and his mind flashed back to Merlin, to Merlin forcing Arthur to fall through the portal. What if he had stayed? What if he had stayed? Would Merlin still be alive? Would Merlin still be—
It wasn't until now that he realized Gwen had him in her arms, and he was screaming into her shoulder.