Late summer had given way to the chilly nights of autumn, and when at long last Merlin stood on the edge of the cauldron lake, gazing at the midnight black water, he felt its magic tingle in his fingertips.
"You were right," he whispered to Bri. She was lying down, tired and weary. Her twisted, crippled body took the journey ill. She'd been suffering silently for days, even though she would not admit it, and would not hear of turning back. Merlin took to cooking and caring for her as the journey neared the end, for her strength was leaving her.
"When will you try it," she asked weakly.
"At dawn," Merlin replied. "I need to rest."
He made a fire and they ate a little.
"I wish you hadn't been so stubborn, Bri," Merlin told her when they sat quietly staring at the flames, and the moon had come up above them in the sky. "How will you get back down on your own?"
"I wasn't planning to," she answered and Merlin felt a chill run down his spine.
"Bri," he started but she cut him off.
"No Merlin, listen to me. On the Belvin plains, on the far border of Odin's land, there is a high tower. In it lives a man who makes his living by selling slaves. He captures those he sells, and occasionally keeps some for himself." Her voice faltered. Eventually she went on, the words heavy and hard. "He keeps them in a dungeon beneath the tower and makes sport of their pain. He yields his tools himself, often until he is standing in blood and it stains his hands to his elbows. It makes him feel powerful. Alive."
"Bri," Merlin whispered, unable to listen further. He rose from his seat across her and knelt beside her.
"I spent two months in his hands, Merlin," she whispered harshly. "What I was before and what I am now barely resemble the other. My life now, it's barely a shadow. Should you make it back in time, promise me you'll seek out and destroy this tower." She took his hand in hers and looked fiercely in his eyes. "Promise me, Merlin."
"I swear it," he whispered.
Her breath shuddered and her whole frame shook.
"I crawled through three days of darkness to escape him," she went on, the fight gone from her voice. "I lay in a crevice in a cave for weeks until I could walk, and begged for food at the side of the road, and children cried in fear when they beheld me."
Merlin wrapped his arms around her and held her. He held her until he felt her deep, even breaths and she fell asleep.
Dawn came, bright and cold, and leaving Bri still asleep, Merlin walked into the cauldron pool. He felt magic swirl around him. He thought of all of the mistakes he had made with Arthur, all that times he'd tried to thwart destiny while only bringing it on sooner. He prayed silently for wisdom and for a second chance. The waters rose around him in the sunlight like a funnel of light and in the blink of an eye, Merlin was gone.
...
Images swirled before Merlin's eyes, bright blinding light and faces. Kilgharrah's scaly visage as he mouthed the words "this is your destiny", Bri's scarred face, her soft soothing whispers and then in a hard voice "promise me, Merlin, promise me". He saw Gwen crowned Queen, Gaius smiling, "well done, Merlin", Morgana's face filled with fury, Mordred as he looked in the vision in the druid cave, Lancelot's whispered "thank you, Merlin" on his funeral barge, Freya's tearful "I will repay you one day", Uther's grim face in his ghostly form, and finally Arthur. Arthur in his chainmail walking out to spar, Arthur looking out of his window over the castle courtyard, Arthur crowned, sitting on the throne, Arthur wounded and dying saying "I don't want you to change".
Great sadness and love grew in Merlin's chest as the images swirled before him, until it was painful to breathe.
"What do you want, young Warlock?" the waters asked him. "What do you want?" the faces asked.
"Another chance," Merlin replied.
"Why should we give it you? Your destiny's fulfilled. The story is complete."
"No!" shouted Merlin. "It wasn't fulfilled. I failed, and Arthur is dead before he could set magic free."
"Perhaps you were destined to fail," the waters said with Arthur's voice. "You cannot save me. You cannot change my destiny."
"But I could have given you more time," Merlin replied and felt tears fall on his cold cheeks. "We could have had more time. Please!" he shouted. "Give me another chance. Give me a chance to see a free Camelot for all by Arthur's side."
"Is that what you want?" the voices whispered. "What you want?" they echoed. "When you change the past, nothing will be as before. You may lose more than you would gain. Are you prepared to take that risk?"
"I am. I am prepared."
"You play a dangerous game, Merlin," said the waters in Gaius' voice. "Are you sure this is the right thing to do?"
"I must do this. Please."
"You may lose much more than you would gain, Emrys," came the vicious voice of Morgana followed by a peal of laughter, and Merlin felt of shudder of fear.
"I must. Please. Give me another chance."
The waters swirled gold and blue and the faces disappeared.
"One chance," the fading voices said. "Only one chance. One. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Merlin said, swallowing hard.
"When do you want to go?" a voice asked, and Merlin recognized it as Balinor's.
He'd agonized over the answer to this question every day since Bri had mentioned the cauldron lake and its powers. He knew when but he also feared he'd been leaving it too late to change anything. But he'd made up his mind and picturing the time and place in his mind, he pushed that out to the waters around him.
Balinor nodded without looking pleased or disapproving. The light bled out of the swirling waters until it was dark like a sky filled with moving stars all around Merlin. He closed his eyes and felt his spirit rise above his body, light and free, then sink again to merge.
He blinked.
There was darkness all around him. Ahead he could see three hooded figures, their faces hidden, each holding a wooden staff with a sharpened tip. He stood inside the cave of the Disir, and beside him were Arthur and his men. He felt disoriented, unbalanced. He reached a hand to the wall behind him to steady himself. Memories of past and future things swirled around in his head. He heard Arthur speak.
Arthur. Arthur's voice. Arthur was alive.