Chapter 6: Wisdom and Consequences

Merlin woke up coughing and sputtering from the bucket of cold water he had just received on the head.

"What the Hell is wrong with you?" bellowed the king. "We've been yelling at you for ages. This was supposed to be a short stop. It may have escaped you, Merlin, but I am the king and I do have to get back to my kingdom some time soon."

The young sorcerer blinked from the bright sunlight. His eyes seemed to have trouble focusing. They were still stinging from the smoke. But how could that be since it had been only a dream? Unless it had been more than a dream. Borden had been inside his mind; there was no doubt about that. Julius Borden is not Julius Borden anymore, he thought. He's a Shade. The Shade of a dragonlord. Why then did he abandon the last dragon egg in the sea fortress? And why did he say he was in Camelot?

"Your horse did the craziest thing," Gwaine said eagerly, cutting Arthur off in the middle of his scolding. "When you fell asleep, it got you a blanket. The horse. From the satchel on another horse's back. And he came here to lay the blanket down on you. I've seen some crazy things – most of them your doings – but this was the strangest, most miraculous thing I have ever seen. Are you sure that horse is really a horse at all? Merlin?"

He was standing with the blanket on his shoulders, water dripping from his messy dark brown hair, when a sudden sting on his arm made him wince in pain. Gwaine and Arthur caught him on each side as the blanket slipped off to reveal a blackened hole on his tunic and a fresh raw wound just below his elbow.

Gwaine's eyes were wide in astonishment. "That's a nasty burn. Wherever did you get a burn like that?"

He was having some difficulty gathering his thoughts. The fire had only been a dream, yet he felt short of breath and dehydrated as though he had just inhaled a lot of smoke. And why did he have that burn? It didn't make sense…

"Water…" he finally breathed out.

Percival immediately brought a small bowl of fresh water from the stream. The others merely stood in silence as Merlin poured the cool liquid over his wound and started to look for a cloth to cover the burn.

"We have to get back to Camelot," said the young sorcerer while Gwaine was tying the bandage around his arm.

Arthur's face went white. "Why? What did you see?"

Merlin closed his eyes, trying to recall the images and the words spoken. "Borden," he said. "But he wasn't Borden. He was something else. A Shade. He called himself a dragonlord. And he said he would be waiting in Camelot."

"There are several things I do not like in this statement," said Elyan with a glance at the others. "What's a Shade?"

"A dead person's soul possessing a living body," said Gwaine.

"Dark magic," Merlin added gloomily. "I could feel it. Even now… things just feel wrong somehow."

Arthur was staring at him with great concern. "You got all that from a dream?"

Merlin did not even bother to nod. This was the part that he hated most about his magic being known: the looks of complete bewilderment on everyone's faces.

He started to gather his things, using the blanket to wrap the dragon egg safely in it. Before he was even finished, his horse – Nuada – was already standing close and waiting.

"Wait! Am I the only one getting that this could be a trap?" cried out Elyan. "This guy said that he would be waiting in Camelot."

The young sorcerer did not even care. He jumped on his horse instead. "I don't know what I saw, but if it was the future, then we have to get to Camelot right away. Flying would be better."

"That's enough for me," said Gwaine, clapping Elyan on the back. "Let's just get there and see what happens."

As they were all gathering their gear and mounting their horses, Arthur came closer to Merlin.

"You're thinking about your dragon, aren't you?"

Merlin peered into the young king's face. "A dragonlord Shade. A missing dragon. I would be stupid not to think about it. But if he is a dragonlord and he has Kilgharrah under his command, then I can tell you that we'll be in big trouble."

"But you're a dragonlord too," Arthur pointed out.

Merlin's eyes narrowed and he seemed to be thinking about something far, far away.

"When I was in Aria's Cradle, Galahad spoke of the Five Dragonlord Houses. Veronus and Brittanicus were allies, great lords, owners of large lands and keepers of the peace. The name of Bagatelle was mostly known among scholars. They lived in hiding and in fear of their powers. The Pendragons lost their gift generations ago when it failed to pass down from father to son. As for the House of LeNoir, there was a conflict with the other houses which escalated into a war. The final battle happened in Aria's Cradle and ended with my grand-father killing the last of the LeNoir."

Arthur was shaking his head. "That wasn't in the Book of Dragonlords. How do you know this?"

"Galahad," replied Merlin. The image of the shabby-looking and limping knight popped into his mind. Galahad had been his first ally in Aria's Cradle, and a good friend. He missed their long talks sitting on top of the stronghold's highest tower. "According to Galahad, the war wasn't even the worst part. The last of the LeNoir was a power-hungry tyrant who used dragons as his personal army. So to stop him, the other dragonlords – with my grand-father at the lead – had no choice but to kill LeNoir's dragons, thus breaking the most sacred of the dragonlords' rule. Galahad called it 'the dragonlords' darkest hour'. The war was won, but the consequences…"

He let his words trail, trying to fight an image of dead dragons lying on the blood-soaked earth.

Arthur leaned in closer. "There's never any winner in a war, you know. Just a larger kingdom and more pain and sorrow to fill it."

"Wow, that's actually… wise," said Merlin with a smirk.

The young king smiled playfully. "That's been known to happen."

"I guess that leaves little for me to do in time of need."

"There's still plenty for you to do. You can scream like a girl or hide behind a tree."

"That was so I could do magic without being seen!" cried out Merlin, outraged.

They were cut off when Elyan drove his horse between them. "Oi! I said we're ready," cried out the knight.

A wave of foreboding suddenly swept over the young sorcerer and his mood became gloomy again. Nuada, his horse, was hammering his foot on the ground impatiently.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" said Arthur directly to Merlin. "We could take a more secret road and arrive under the cover of darkness. Or you could use the aging spell again…"

Merlin wheeled his horse to take the lead. "No disguise," he said without further explanation. "Let's fly."