A/N: I'm back! Please don't hate me! So sorry for the long delay, I hope there are some of you who still care about this fic! truth is, like I thought it would, university, my final year dissertation in particular, got in the way. But hey, it all paid off, I'm now an official university graduate in history! Some people say my university looks like Hogwarts, so it was pretty cool getting dressed up in robes in the 'Great Hall' for graduation. Only bad thing is I now can't go to the meetings of the Harry Potter society :(
Hope there are still some of you out there who haven't given up!
The next several days on the Isle passed in much the same way. The seven of them would rise, eat in the Great Hall together and then go their own separate ways. Hermione would without fail head off to the library and immerse herself for hours in the huge books that lay there tempting her with their endless knowledge, frustrated that she was only able to read the books that were written in Ancient Runes. Luna would wander around seemingly aimlessly, visiting the vegetable patches, studying the stars at night in one of the towers with some Druids and speaking with no one, except to advise them of the dangers of Nargles. Ron was taking the time to learn more Old Magic in one of the classrooms with experienced teachers, all of whom we're becoming increasingly wary of his propensity of making spells to go wrong due to his impatience. Draco often accompanied Ron to lessons, but fared much better, more determined than ever to master Old Magic. Ginny, unable to use Old Magic and unwilling to let anybody know, took to wandering around the island and helping in every non-magical task she could find or just walking down by the shores of the lake, often accompanied by Harry when he wasn't in a lesson with Ron or Draco.
They all seemed to settle in quite quickly, the peace and serenity of the island easing their worries about the future and their task. They were all taking the opportunity to learn more or just relax. Merlin, however, could not.
He did not take part in any lessons, despite knowing that even at his age, he could learn a great deal; much of the knowledge contained on this island was destroyed before he ever had a chance to learn it. He avoided Druids wherever he could, as well as Niamhrach, the dragon and her Druid attendants, and chose to spend his time alone, accompanied wherever he went by Fawkes alone, at least at first, before Fawkes had flown off on his own. He knew he was being foolish; how was he supposed to get the High Council to trust him when he deliberately isolated himself?
Every morning when he awoke, he made a new promise to himself to try and involve himself more, but he underestimated just how difficult that was. As soon as he awoke he felt the familiar pull of Old Magic that surrounded him at all times; as soon as he wandered the still intact corridors he remembered the ruin of his own time; every face he saw at every meal, every child he saw running laughing through the courtyard haunted him; he knew their fates, and he couldn't look them in the eye. How could he? He wanted so badly to change the past, yet knew he couldn't. That knowledge was a burden, and so he found it far easier to stay away like some sort of coward.
He often sat down by the shores of the lake, watching the dark water slowly lap against the beach, a continuous rhythm that should have been soothing, but to Merlin was like a ticking clock, counting down the seconds until the beauty of his island was lost forever. He stared straight ahead into the mists, longing for them to clear, and make his own path visible. He wanted this island to never fall, yet he knew it must.
So instead, he wanted the end of the hostilities in the present day and the peaceful resolution of the crisis, yet he knew at that too was impossible. So what was the point in anything? All this spell would do was delay the final reconciliation yet again, to a time when Merlin would be long dead. This whole mission was just the recognition of failure; of Merlin's failure to create peace the way he was supposed to. It was an acknowledgement that they were just giving up.
Merlin continued sitting by the lake, pulling his knees closer to his chest and hugging them tightly. He barely even noticed another presence sitting down beside him. Once he recognised who it was, he turned.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
Luna turned to him and smiled. "I'm helping."
"Helping who?"
"Why, you of course, silly," she said with wide eyes.
"I don't need any help," he said, turning away.
"Of course you do," she said dismissively. "Everyone needs help sometimes."
"And what exactly do you think I need help with exactly?" he asked, avoiding her gaze.
"With seeing the obvious," she said. "Often the smartest people can't see what's right in front of them. They're so occupied with other things they can't see it, or they've been doing something the same way for so long they've forgotten that there's another way of doing things. That's what's happened with you, Merlin."
"Oh?"
"Yes," she said, fixing him with a serious look. "Why are you hiding like this, Merlin? Why are you isolating yourself? I thought you'd learned this last year how silly that was? You're not alone, Merlin. Not the way you used to be. We can help you. And these people here can help you, but you're running from them. You won't even speak to them."
"How can I?" he asked. "When I know what will happen? How can I risk getting close to them?"
"You're afraid of the pain," she said. "You haven't learned, have you? It's the same problem that's always plagued you. You didn't worry about getting close to any of us."
"That's because I knew Harry would be the one to return the Old Religion," he said. "I got close to the Founders, and others, despite knowing it could never last, and the pain of it almost destroyed me. How long are we going to be here? How can I talk to these people and get to know them when I know what will happen?"
"So you're willing to just ignore them?" asked Luna, frowning. "What use will that be? How will that honour their memories? It is your duty to remember them, and what they died protecting, to make sure they are never forgotten."
"What's the point when we're just going to erase the Muggle's memories? Merlin asked. "The things that destroyed life here are still going on in the future. What's the point of returning the status-quo in the future when there's no hope for peace? Even this place could not last. Sometimes I just wonder whether or not the years of peace there were in Camelot were just a fluke. Maybe Muggles and wizards can't live side by side."
"You don't really believe that, Merlin," said Luna quietly. "You know it's possible. Just not right now. You should focus on bringing the lost knowledge of this era to the future; that's the only way we can prepare for peace. We have to remember who we were before we can create peace with Muggles. We aren't ready. It's your duty to make sure that one day, we are."
Merlin turned to look at her, amazed by her faith and optimism. But he could not share it.
"I don't want to wait for that day," he said. "I can't."
Luna shook her head sadly, as though he had severely disappointed her. "Melian was right," she said. "You need to learn patience again, Merlin. You fulfilled your destiny when you brought back the Old Religion with Harry. That was what you were meant to do. Now, it's your job to maintain the peace that was created. Enjoy it, and don't rush off to try and create new problems."
She stretched out her hands and her eyes glowed golden. A globe of water appeared in her palm, suspended several inches in the air. It shimmered in the dim light, green, blue, red, yellow, like a rainbow and reflected tiny little beams that seemed to light up her face and her eyes. The globe twisted and turned into little steams that spiralled around her hand all perfectly controlled and still shimmering beautifully. He watched entranced, amazed that she had mastered this spell so quickly without his realising. He loved the gleam in her eyes as she manipulated the water into ever wondrous shapes. She ended her spell and smiled at Merlin.
"I couldn't do that when we arrived," she said. "But I learned. It might not be something powerful like a wave or strong ice that can slice something in two. But it's beautiful, and it's worth something all the same. Sometimes the simplest things are the greatest. You can find peace, Merlin, you just need to recognise it again. Just because you can't solve all the world's problems doesn't mean you can't be happy."
Merlin watched her for a moment, suddenly feeling something very strange as he looked at her wide innocent eyes. She stood up to leave, but before she did, she stopped and looked at him one last time.
"Where's Fawkes?"
Merlin winced inwardly. "I don't know, off exploring the island I think," he said, trying to ignore the sinking feeling he always felt nowadays when Fawkes was not with him.
Luna nodded as though something had been confirmed. "That should be a sign, Merlin," she said softly, and she gently laid a hand on his shoulder, making him tense. "He's your guide, he is the Old Religion. You should follow his lead more often instead of forging a path on your own. We're all here for you Merlin, Fawkes included."
She left, and despite himself, Merlin turned his head to watch her departure, following the sight of her blonde curls until they were long gone in the distance. Was she right?
His shoulder had felt painfully empty the last few weeks without the familiar weight of Fawkes there. He seldom came with Merlin anywhere, and if he did, all he would do was stare at Merlin with great sad eyes, as though gazing upon a man on his deathbed. It pained Merlin to be separate from him; the past several months had created a bond between them so deep Merlin had been entirely unaware of until Fawkes had left. It was as though a part of him was gone.
He'd felt so abandoned by the Old Religion recently, and Fawkes leaving him was just further proof of it. Was it simply because he was willfully ignoring its teachings for his own personal reasons?
He sighed and buried his head deep in his hands. Luna was right. She knew him a lot better than anyone else had in centuries. He should follow her advice, he knew he should. But why was he so reluctant?
Just then, when he felt as trapped as he ever had, a feeling washed upon him so strong, he almost gasped aloud. It was magic; magic that seemed as old as the earth itself. Even as he tried to catch his breath he felt words resonate through his mind, as clear and as loud as if they had been spoken right next to him.
"Malcolm."
Merlin jumped as he recognised the voice of the dragon from the courtyard. She was calling him? Why?
"Malcolm," the voice repeated this time a little more urgently.
Merlin sighed before getting to his feet; he knew from experience that it was definitely not a good idea to ignore a dragon. He turned and headed back to the castle, walking as slowly as he could.
He had always thought he'd be overjoyed to discover another Old dragon, have someone to talk to other than Kilgharrah and Aithusa, but if anything, this was worse. He knew her future, he knew what would happen to her. He wandered vaguely whether this was how Kilgharrah always felt, knowing bits and pieces of Merlin's future and having to do nothing.
And how much did she really know? If she was as wise as the other dragons he knew, if not wiser, then how long would it take for her to figure out their true purpose, if she hadn't already?
In order to get the spell they needed, the truth would have to come out eventually, should he tell Niamhrach before he told the High Council where they came from? Would it help them be trusted? He couldn't lie to her, even if he wanted to. She made him uncomfortable, far more uncomfortable than Kilgharrah ever had, and that was saying something. He felt exposed in front of her, like his soul was bared and easily read.
He entered through the front gates, now recognised by the Red Guard, of whom he was still distrustful, despite knowing their support of Morgana taking over Camelot was still far in the future, and proceeded immediately to the courtyard where Niamhrach lay, her emerald scales glinting in the sun.
He froze for a moment, looking at her, noting randomly how similar the colour of her scales was to Harry's eyes; the same unnatural green that seemed to glow even without light. It was like the Old Religion was trying to make a point.
As soon as he passed through the archway leading to the courtyard, Niamhrach lifted her massive head and turned it towards him. She almost seemed to smile as she saw him.
"My lord," she said, bowing her head slightly, keeping her silver eyes on his face.
Unsure how to respond, he moved closer, avoiding her penetrating stare, the stare that seemed to remind him of Luna's. He could feel her gaze on him, following him until he was standing right in front of her. It was then he noticed the other presence in the courtyard. It was the Druid from before, the elderly woman known as Rhona. She looked disapproving as he drew closer, and placed her hand on her hips and scowled. Empty potion bottles and heavy books were littered at her feet.
"So he comes," she said dramatically. "The only Dragonlord on the island finally comes to see the only dragon on the island. What kept you?"
"I've been … thinking," Merlin said, uncomfortably aware of his inability to lie to Niamhrach, and not wanting to risk her perhaps notice any lies he told to others. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" Rhona asked. "Sorry? How can any Dragonlord wish to deliberately avoid the company of a dragon, especially one so distinguished as she?"
"Now, Rhona," Niamhrach said, immediately stopping the Druid in full flow. "I sense young Malcolm is troubled and wished to be alone. There is no fault in that."
Rhona didn't look convinced. "There is fault in neglecting one's duties," she said, hands still on her hips. She took a step closer to Merlin, her scowl deepening. "Do you see her injury, Malcolm? Do you not sense her pain? How could you forsake her? You are a Dragonlord. You have responsibilities as well as gifts. You should do well to remember that."
"I have not forgotten my duties-" Merlin protested, but Rhona cut across him.
"Too busy to tend to the dragons, it's the case everywhere. They are your kin, and all your kind do nowadays is forget your fate to watch over them. Your kind have become lazy and careless. It is time for the Dragonlords to remember who they are supposed to be instead of being neglectful, selfish and too self-absorbed to tend to their duties."
She finished, and turned back to Niamhrach, gesturing to her leg.
"You see this? Four months on and still Lady Niamhrach suffers. There is only so much Druid magic can do. Perhaps you can fare better, my lord." She gave him one last scowl, gathered up her things and stormed off, muttering to herself about wasteful youths.
Merlin was left alone with the dragon, and found himself unable to look into her eyes. Instead, he looked down upon her injury, and examined it gently. It looked like a long gash had been cut there, and had only barely healed over, the scales around the wound were faded and flaking away, as though a disease was spreading outwards.
"How did this happen?" Merlin asked, running his hands over the wound as lightly as he could. "Who would do this to a dragon?"
"There is unrest everywhere, young Dragonlord," she replied. "Have you not seen it in the outside world? Have you not sensed it? Camelot and neighbouring kingdoms are increasingly closing in on magic and its followers."
Merlin looked up, surprised. Surely the Purge had not started already?
"I don't understand," he said, confused.
"King Uther has never been a friend to magic," said Niamhrach, "though never an enemy either. In recent years he has become far less tolerant. Magical peoples are leaving the city; they no longer feel safe. Some are being persecuted and discriminated against; they fear what will happen to them in the future. A single spark may be all that's needed to launch a full out war upon sorcerers."
Merlin bent his head over the injury to try and conceal his shock. He'd always assumed the hatred of magic had not begun until after Ygraine's death. Was it possible it had started earlier? Was Camelot pre-Purge really as ideal as he'd always thought? The mention of King Uther also startled him; were they really this close to his own time that Uther was already king?
"My injury was sustained when I happened across a group of Camelot Knights as I was searching for initiates," Niamhrach continued. "I was sport for them. All respect for the ancient ways is being forgotten. I was little more than a dumb animal."
"But didn't you fight back?" Merlin asked.
"I do not kill humans," Niamhrach said dismissively. "The taking of life is not something I condone easily. I am a preserver of the Old Religion, not some violent animal that slaughters indiscriminately. I called out for help, for any Dragonlord nearby to assist me, but none came."
"Why not?" asked Merlin, still confused. This was the time of the peak of the Old Religion wasn't it? Why was everything already so messed up?
Niamhrach bent her head to look at him. "There are far less Dragonlords than once there were," she answered. "Too much rivalry and in-fighting has taken place; their numbers are severely depleted. And those there are do not take their roles as seriously as before. But surely you know this? You are of a dying kind, Malcolm, but I sense you are one of the few who honour the old ways."
Merlin looked away awkwardly from those great eyes. "Not the way Rhona sees it."
Niamhrach sighed. "Druidess Rhona is a wondrous healer and skilful sorceress, yet she has yet to master the true meaning of the peace of the Old Religion. She is jealous, young Malcolm, that is all. Do not heed her words. I can see the truth of your suffering."
"Jealous? What of?" Merlin asked, hurriedly trying to steer the conversation away from himself.
"Your abilities," she answered. "She is the daughter of a Dragonlord, and cares a great deal for my race."
"I've never heard of a female Dragonlord before," Merlin said.
"That is because they do not exist," said the dragon, sounding intrigued by his lack of knowledge. "The ability passes from father to son only, and Dragonlords seldom father daughters; it is extremely rare in fact. If they do, the child possesses the magical abilities of her father, and an aptitude for magic and love and sense of kinship with dragons, but never the ability to control them in the way their fathers could. Daughters of Dragonlords usually become priestesses, though Rhona declined my offer of initiation because she wished to involve herself solely in the care of dragons like her forebears."
"I never knew that," said Merlin, thinking back to everything he had studied, and realising what she said was true. There was little written information about Dragonlords after the Purge, and few names of Dragonlords were ever recorded, so the lack of female names had never appeared to be noteworthy. In fact, he knew very little about Dragonlords in general. Gaius had only been able to tell him the basic facts, and he'd never had the opportunity to ask Balinor. It suddenly made him very sad to realise how little he knew about his own race; he was the last of his kind, and he barely knew anything of his own history. He'd never asked Kilgharrah about it, he'd never seen the point, and Kilgharrah, his usual cryptic self, had not seen fit to offer any information even if Merlin had asked. Perhaps here was the opportunity to change that.
"It is all that Rhona can think of when she sees you," said Niamhrach. "She has abilities greater than that of her fellow sorceresses, and has great healing magic for dragons and a greater understanding of us than most, but despite this, all she sees is her failure to live up to her forebears."
Niamhrach stared at Merlin as she said this, as though trying to make a point, but Merlin looked away. What was she trying to say? That Merlin was blind to his own blessings because he was too desperate to bring back peace?
Niamhrach seemed to notice his mood, and did not continue.
"Can you assist me, Malcolm," she asked, her voice sounding pained. "Can you ease my pain?"
Merlin said nothing, and stretched out his hand. "Hālian. Ece gestillan."
He released the magic, and the wound glowed golden for a few moments before the mist vanished and the leg was once more visible, though no more healed than before.
"I'm sorry," Merlin said, panting slightly with the effort. "I can't do any more."
"The pain is somewhat more bearable," said the dragon. "I thank you."
"But I didn't do anything."
"You have powerful magic, young one," she said. "But no magic is powerful enough to affect a dragon completely, even a Dragonlord's. Your efforts are appreciated."
She eyed him again. "But perhaps your ill-confidence in yourself may also be a reason for your limited success."
Merlin looked back at her. "Ill-confidence?"
"I know why you have isolated yourself from your friends, and from me," she said. "You have a task to fulfil, that I can sense. You do not have confidence in your goals, and you do not have confidence in yourself. You shall never succeed in this manner."
"I know what I must do," said Merlin firmly. "I do."
"You know it, but you do not believe in it," said Niamhrach. "And you do not believe in yourself. Your friends are there to help you, Malcolm. Do not dismiss them, or you shall most surely fail in your task."
"What do you know of my task?" Merlin asked, a lot more rudely than he meant, but Niamhrach paid no notice.
"More than you think, Malcolm," she said, settling her head on the ground. "I am not so old nor wise for nothing. There is seldom that happens in this world that I do not know of. And the birth of someone as powerful as you is something I should have noticed, but did not. Therefore, I know that you are not of this time, and your lonely and broken spirit is a result of something greater than being displaced in time."
Merlin looked up quickly, but Niamhrach just chuckled. "I am the one who is injured, young Dragonlord, yet I sense it is you who is hurting more. It does not need to be this way. Let the Old Religion guide you."
"I fear the Old Religion has forsaken me," Merlin said. "I can no longer hear its words and guidance."
"Because you do not listen," said Niamhrach, smiling. "The Old Religion never forsakes us, even when we think it does. It shall always be there, waiting for us."
From behind Niamhrach, there was a soft cry, and Fawkes appeared, swooping out from behind a folded wing, shining brightly, even next to Niamhrach's brilliance. He circled the courtyard for a moment, before coming to land on Merlin's shoulder, and rubbing his face against Merlin's.
Merlin looked at him, and for a moment, felt oddly tearful as he lifted a hand to stroke him.
"Even the greatest man can be blinded to what he does not wish to see," said Niamhrach, laying down her head and closing her eyes. "Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to rest. I shall speak to you another time, Malcolm."
Merlin left the courtyard, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder, thinking over the dragon's words. Was she right?
All his mind had been the last few weeks was a painful mess of guilt, shattered hopes and misplaced optimism, and he felt trapped, lost in his own mind. He couldn't see a way out of it all, despite his presence here for a spell to magically fix everything. He knew everything wouldn't be as simple as they were saying; get the spell and wipe out the past. The very idea seemed wrong to him.
But here, with Fawkes, a small warming feeling was coming into his heart. Something that was keeping the worst of the darkness at bay. But only just.
Fawkes cried out gently, and nuzzled him once more, but Merlin was still not able to see the light ahead. He knew he should trust in Fawkes, trust in the Old Religion, but his heart would not allow him to.
After what seemed like hours of wandering the corridors, he found himself to the Great Hall where most of the island's residents were settling down to their evening meal. As usual, everyone looked up and began whispering excitedly when Merlin appeared with Fawkes on his shoulder. But Merlin did not have eyes for them.
He travelled down the length of the room until he found Harry and the others all seated together. They looked up as he approached. Merlin's eyes sought Luna's, and she smiled as she saw Fawkes.
"May I join you?" Merlin asked, and everyone grinned.
"About time, mate," said Ron. "We were beginning to think we were going to have to spend our entire time here on our own."
"Not entirely," said Merlin, trying to smile back. "But I'm just …"
"We get it," said Ginny, laying her hand over his from across the table and smiling. "You've got your own issues, and it can't be easy for you being here. But remember you're not alone, Merlin. Don't be as great an idiot as Harry usually is."
"Oi!" objected Harry, but he too smiled at Merlin, Their eyes met, and Merlin nodded, seeing the concern there and berating himself for letting them worry about him. He was supposed to be the ancient one with all the answers, the strong one with centuries of experience; he shouldn't be acting like some angtsy teenager. All six of them were often more wise than he was, even Ron.
The table fell into easy conversation after that, each of them talking of the things they had encountered on the island.
"It's nothing like Hogwarts," Ron was saying enthusiastically. "I can actually learn things here! These people don't give a damn if you don't remember all the theory, or take ages to learn something. It's all about the process rather than the end result. It's all a bit too spiritualistic and stuff for me to understand properly, but it's great. Just being here with all this Old Magic around, well, it's making me feel more powerful and confident in Old Magic than I've ever been."
"There are so many different types of people here," Ginny was saying. "From all over. And there's loads of kids too. And not everyone here can use Old Magic either, especially some of the younger kids. But I've been learning some potions off them; you know, real childish stuff like how to turn someone's hair into worms. Fred and George are going to be so jealous-"
"-it's incredible," Hermione was saying. "The amount of knowledge in that library that's just lying around! It makes me so sad to think …" she trailed off to make sure no one was listening in, "well, all I'm saying is I wish I could take some copies back with me when we leave. I mean, we can't just pretend all of this didn't happen. Don't we have a duty to remember it?"
"As long as no one notices, I don't see why you can't copy some of the texts," Merlin said. "We can't mess up the timeline."
"That's what's confusing me," said Draco, leaning in. "Doesn't our very presence change history?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "When we did the whole Time Turner thing, technically, we were only playing out things that had already happened, weren't we? I mean, we weren't really changing the past, were we? I was saved by my own Patronus, and I went back in time and cast it only because I knew I'd already done it, right? So how do we know if we're doing what we're supposed to be doing? That what we're doing now isn't changing the future but is playing out what was supposed to happen?"
"Kilgharrah explained it all," said Hermione, sounding exasperated. "Don't you remember?"
"I never understand anything Kilgharrah says," Ron answered. "Bloody lizard never makes any sense."
"Kilgharrah?"
They turned to see the young Druid they'd met on their first day, Cenric, was standing there. He looked awed.
"You've spoken with Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon?" he asked, barely concealing his excitement.
"No, not exactly," said Merlin hurriedly intervening. "We've heard of him, and the things he says. His wisdom is too far above us to comprehend."
"He is truly the greatest of the dragons, save Lady Niamhrach of course," he added hurriedly, as though afraid she could hear him from the other end of the castle. "I saw him once as a child, he came here with Niamhrach during the last initiation. Magnificent!"
"Yeah," said Merlin coolly; he still had not fully forgiven Kilgharrah for lying to him about the spell. Then he was hit by a sudden thought. "He doesn't come here often does he?" He was suddenly worried he might stumble upon him and change the timeline.
"Not often," said Cenric, shaking his head. "We are not so lucky." He looked at Merlin with a lot more interest. "I heard you were a Dragonlord, is that right?"
"Yes," said Merlin, still somewhat unaccustomed to acknowledging such a fact to others; he'd never lived in an era where he hadn't had to explain what a Dragonlord was.
"Incredible," said Cenric, his eyes lit up. "I find their stories so fascinating, but they don't come here as often as they used to."
"How often is that?" Merlin asked, suddenly wary about encountering other Dragonlords.
"Oh, every other month or so," said Cenric, waving his hand. "One of them used to live here all year round though. But with all the unrest going on, they're spending more time away from the island. The dragons are restless, and the Dragonlords are rushed off their feet. Not that Rhona believes it; the way she talks you'd think all they do is lie around all day doing nothing. Some do, I suppose, but mostly they're trying to keep the peace between the kingdoms. Each ruler is becoming much stricter on magic."
"Really?" asked Hermione, and she looked curiously at Merlin. "I didn't think magic was illegal."
"It isn't," said Cenric. "It just people are starting to become a lot more distrustful of it. Events in Camelot are making things difficult."
Merlin glanced at the others. "What events?"
Cenric glanced around nervously. "The rumour goes that a High Priestess is living in Camelot and acting as an advisor to the king," he said. "The people aren't happy with her influence with the king, but Uther does not listen. It is creating a great deal of resentment amongst the people; Uther issues laws that restrict the freedoms of sorcerers, yet he allows her into his most secret councils. There is something going on there that the High Council will not tell us. They hide themselves away in the Inner Sanctum, and only Melian and Findan leave it. I don't even know which High Priestess has left; they're trying to hush it all up-"
Cenric was interrupted by a shout from a nearby group of friends, and he smiled and nodded, before turning to join them. Merlin looked around at the others, a grim expression on his face.
"Nimueh," he said from behind gritted teeth. "She's already wormed her way into Uther's court seeking power and prestige. She may already have cast the spell that will allow the Queen to conceive the child that will kill her and begin the Purge: Arthur."
He ran his hands over his face. "We're not years before the Purge, not decades. We might only be mere months, weeks … " he looked up and around at everyone sitting there, smiling and laughing with their friends. "This place could be destroyed any day."
A solemn silence fell around the table, and everybody's face fell. Ginny looked up and down the table.
"Is there nothing we can do?" she asked, the sadness in her voice. "These people … they're just going to die?"
"Remember what Kilgharrah said when I asked him how far before my time we were headed?" Merlin said, not answering her question. "Not as far as you may think. If Ygraine's already pregnant, or is going to be shortly, I'm going to be born within the next year or so."
"That's a weird thought," said Ron, after a moment's silence. "Baby Merlin …"
"This isn't a joke, Ron," hissed Hermione. She turned to look at Merlin, a knowing look on her face. "You know you can't do anything, right, Merlin?" she asked desperately. "You can't try and change things. You can't go rushing off to Camelot to try and stop the Queen from dying in childbirth. The Purge has to happen, it's already happened from your point of view, and we can't change that."
"Why not?" asked Merlin, though he knew deep down she was right.
"Things happened for a reason," she said, sounding emotional, and everyone else nodded. "As hard as it is, you have to accept that. And besides, if the Purge didn't happen, Balinor would never have had to leave Camelot, would never have hidden with your mother and you would never have been born. There are more things to think about than just saving the people on this island."
Merlin looked up and watched Cenric from down the table, laughing and looking so young and care-free. "I know," he said heavily. "I know I can't change anything, but … we're living amongst ghosts, Hermione. These people will die, it's only a matter of time."
"Everyone dies, Merlin," said Luna. "But they shouldn't be forgotten, and they shouldn't die for nothing. It's your duty to remember them and make sure it wasn't in vain by saving the people in the future."
"So we should be sacrificing someone like Cenric for Harry's uncle?" Merlin asked. "Where's the justice?"
"You need to have faith, Merlin," she answered. "That's the only way any of this will make any sense."
Merlin sighed, and looked down at his untouched plate. That was easier said than done.
Fawkes crooned softly on his shoulder, and Merlin raised his hand to him. He needed the Old Religion more than anything these days.
At that moment, a great trumpeting sound rang throughout the castle and every Druid leapt to their feet looking afraid. Merlin too jumped up, though he sensed no danger.
"What's going on?" he asked, grabbing Cenric as Druids began to stream from the hall.
"There's been an attack on our people," Cenric said, his face creased in worry. "Refugees are crossing the lake even now. It's the fourth one this month. We're always being attacked these days."
"I have healing experience," Merlin said, still confused at all these references to violence even before the beginning of the Purge. "Can I offer any assistance?"
"We need all the assistance we can get," said Rhona, suddenly appearing from behind Cenric. She scowled at Merlin. "Make yourself useful, boy. Darkness is falling all around us. We can no longer take the Old Religion for granted."
She hurried off, and Merlin followed immediately, mind still buzzing. He was so confused. The time before the Purge wasn't supposed to be like this. Had everything he'd always believed been a lie?
A/N: You know that it's almost exactly three years since I started writing this trilogy? Can't quite believe it. Massive love for you if you've been here since the beginning!