#16

Two large hands part the cloth and reveal the face that had remained in the shadows. A young man with cinnamon skin, deep eyes and a friendly smile watches her curiously. Emma, recognizing the man in the vision, sighs. A dead weight leaves her body, and she thinks her feet could lift off the ground at any moment. She opens his mouth, she wants to say his name, make it even more real.

But someone else comes forward.

Behind her, flanked by his men, breaking the solemnity floating around them, Arthur growls. He says the wizard's name with such revulsion, with such hatred, that it sparkles in each letter, "Merlin."

The wizard crosses his arms, turns his face towards him and walks in Arthur's direction a couple of steps without altering his gesture. "You." He says. When they are barely a couple of feet apart, Merlin watches him carefully. "The boy who would have become king, my great hope," he murmurs. Arthur growls as Merlin's voice rises again. "You have disappointed me."

"I have disappointed you?" Arthur barks out. "You sold me false prophecies, you embarked me on an impossible crusade, and you ruined my life!" he snaps, bringing his hand to Excalibur's hilt.

"Leave it where it is, Arthur. That split sword shall not hurt me." There, less than half a foot away, the difference in height between the two becomes even more noticeable. So much so that they seem like the spitting image of a father scolding a wayward son.

"You're right. A wizard of your level deserves something else."

Everything happens so fast that Emma, too far away, is unable to intervene. There are two quick movements between them, and she sees Merlin jumping away from Arthur. The wizard raises his arm, and now Emma sees him clearly. The wristband that has protected them from Zelena for days now rests against Merlin's skin.

"No!" she shouts.

Merlin just looks at his arm without really understanding what's happening, but Emma's scream forces him to react. Arthur advances towards him menacingly, and Merlin raises his hands to stop him, but nothing happens.

"You are nothing without magic, right?" Arthur laughs, madly. "Here you have him, the greatest wizard of all times!" he proclaims looking towards the people of Storybrooke, where no one opens their mouths. "In case you have not been taught manners, you must kneel before your king," he spits out violently before kneeing him in the stomach. Merlin's body flexes in pain, and Regina and Snow move to help him. "Hold it!" he orders drawing his sword and bringing the split edge closer to Merlin's neck. "For his sake." He growls, until he sees them return to their place. "Good girls. Guards, stop him! Him and all those who have risen up against Camelot!" he exclaims, euphoric.

His knights pick up Merlin by the arms and hold him without much effort. But the citizens of Storybrooke regain their attacking positions. There will be no surrender.

"You, stupid lot," Arthur scoffs. "So be it, you'll die soon eno…"

The words die on his lips when Merlin's voice rises above everything else. "Emma, you can end this!"

"What?" she mutters confused, looking at her hands and at him intermittently. Yes, she can unleash all her power, put the force of the darkness at her disposal. She notices how the worst of her writhes, wanting to destroy everyone, but the next thing that would be destroyed would be her own soul, she's sure. "I don't…"

"You don't have to do magic, just undo it!" he screams, revolting against his captors. "This is not real! Camelot was created with magic, with powders from Avalon! The Dark One himself gave them to Arthur! And only the Dark One can undo that deal!"

"ENOUGH!" the king yells, giving him a sharp blow with the hilt of his sword. Merlin doesn't faint, but his glazed gaze stops fixing on Emma and his body goes limp, hanging in the arms of the knights who hold him back. "Surrender now or die."

With the words Arthur just spoke, his men retrieve their swords, prepare their armor and await his order. The people from Storybrooke imitate them without fear and the battle is hanging on a taut and delicate thread. But only one person doesn't pay attention to the battle, only to Emma.

"You've already heard Merlin. You can do this, Emma," Regina whispers. She doesn't even have her hands up, she's not ready to attack. She just stands there, in the front line of battle, only worried about her.

Emma opens her mouth, gasps a few times. Merlin's words make more sense than ever to her. Ever since she stepped into that damn place, it felt like a terrifying fairy tale, trapped between walls of forced unreality and now she understands why.

"I don't know how," she muses helplessly.

Regina remains some feet away from her, but she smiles as if they were alone, barely inches apart. "What do you do with the annoying sand?"

"You shake it off," she answers, and Regina's luscious lopsided smile is all the confirmation she needs.

"ATTACK!" Arthur roars and his men rush at them. Regina's flames light up the night with their devilish glow. Zelena's emerald spheres begin to spin in time with her hands. The people of Storybrooke stand shoulder to shoulder.

Suddenly, a colossal air blow shakes Arthur's knights, extinguishes Regina's fire, forces Zelena to cover her face, and pushes the people of Storybrooke against each other.

Emma's arms move in a harmonious dance that catches the slightest bit of air around her and returns it as an unstoppable whirlwind. Everything around her threatens to fly and collapse. Those present begin to cling to each other, regardless of which side they are on. The earth shines unevenly, with an unstable pink glow that begins to move and cut through the air. Even the towers, the wall, the castle and most of the people, are detached from that inexplicable dust that look like tiny fireflies.

"No, no, no!" Arthur bellows, and he grabs Guinevere. She's the one who shines the brightest and doesn't resist the gale one bit, as if enjoying every puff that shakes her body and expels every last speck of dust.

The walls collapse orderly, each brick disappearing into an uneven strip of wood to form a crude and rudimentary fortification. The towers collapse in on themselves; the people falling from some of them safely landing in the ground thanks to Regina's quick response. Finally, the majestic castle is consumed until it's no more than a hundred straw and wooden huts that occupy, like small mushrooms, the immensity where Arthur's pride once stood.

"This," Emma mutters as her arms collapse in exhaustion and the dust disappears into nothingness. "This is Camelot."

While she kneels to rest in the exact spot where Merlin's tree had been, Emma sees her son and Regina running towards her. In her exhaustion, she's hardly aware of the final acts of Arthur's demise. Her wife knocking him out with a well-aimed kick in his crotch, hers and Lancelot's reunion in front of the fallen king pained expression, their love crowning the spectacular shock wave of Emma's counter spell.

Their union implies a closure so solemn that no one dares to move, lest they break the moment. Except for Regina. She walks in a determined stride towards Merlin, who is still recovering, sitting on the ground.

"If you would allow me," she whispers delicately. "I think this should go back to its rightful owner," she announces, removing the wristband. Zelena turns around, now fully awaken from Arthur's spell and definitely more terrifying, but Regina paralyzes her with a simple flick of the wrist and, under the watchful and angry gaze of her frozen sister, repositions the wristband onto her arm. "Just in case."

"You, bi…" Zelena's voice disappears with another movement of Regina's hand.

"Watch that mouth."

To be continued...