That was also the moment that Merlin realized that this was no enchantment. Nobody but a Dragon Lord could force The Great Dragon back into the cave. Nobody but himself could do such a thing, unless.. His father was still alive.

His father could still be alive somewhere. He could have a second chance at getting to know him, to have a father to look up to. He could still very much be living with his mother for all he knew. Maybe he had a father to help raise him in this world. He could have had a father who loved him dearly, and taught him everything he knew, who had helped him learn to control his magic. His father could help him, if he was still alive. He didn't even know if the dragon had heard him or not, or simply sensed his presence like he had in the past. It didn't matter. Kilgarrah was still his biggest chance of resolving whatever had happened in this world, and getting to him would be his first course of action. But in order to get to him, he needed to infiltrate Camelot and get down to the cave where the dragon was being held. And he needed to do so unseen, or else he feared what he may be forced to do.

It was still late at night, however, and Merlin made the decision that if he would need all the energy he could get, should he have any hopes of getting in and out of Camelot with his life intact. He rested his back against the tree again, before he silently drifted off to sleep, the young warlock being beyond exhausted from all that had happened. But as he slept, he suffered from nightmares. Terrible nightmares of himself and his actions.

He approached the gates of Camelot, guards running ahead in order to alert the citadel of his arrival, grief upon their expressions. Upon setting foot inside the citadel, guards were forced against the walls, and through the force of magic, their necks were snapped. Buildings went up in flame at the mutter of a word and a flash of golden in his eyes. Women and children were fleeing in terror, knights were attempting to stop him, first with words of reason, which was quickly followed by acts of violence as he sent them flying like rag-dolls into the nearby walls. Blood and the corpses of innocents and knights alike littered the streets, Camelot's lower town was in flames, and he walked forwards with purpose. He was met in the courtyard of the castle by several knights, all of them pleading for him to stop, a familiar voice shouting at him and asking why he was doing this. It had been sir Leon who had spoken. They all watched him, but not with disgust and hatred, but with pure confusion, frustration and despair. It looked almost as if they did not with to harm him. However, he was not one who would listen to pleads, his arm raising before him as he answered sir Leon's question. "I want nothing but to see Camelot burn, the same way Camelot burned my kin at the stake" A thrust of magic sent the knights flying backwards, littering across the ground as another flash of golden and the mutter of a spell set their bodies aflame, cries of agony filling the courtyard.

Merlin awoke with a jolt, a scream escaping his mouth as he found himself drenched with sweat. He quickly reached the conclusion that it had only been a nightmare, but even so, it had felt far too real. His heart was pounding furiously in his chest as he struggled to catch his breath, almost as if he had been running for several kilometers prior. Each detail of the nightmare stuck to his mind, refusing to disappear like most dreams usually did. He could have sworn that he had smelled the smoke and the blood in the air, it all had been so very life-like, and what scared him the most was the fact that he had seen it through his own eyes, as if he had truly done those things. He couldn't possibly have done such things, but they almost felt like memories. He leaned his back against the tree again, tilting his head backwards and up towards the skies above. The sun was rising, and it was now officially morning.

He gathered himself and rose to his feet, removing his neckerchief and inspecting the wound on his arm. It was gone, only a pink streak left where there had been a deep gash the night before. He hadn't tried healing his own wound, and yet here it was, almost fully healed. Maybe he had done it in his sleep, during the nightmare, his subconscious desperately wanting to undo the damage he was doing in the dream.. Or maybe, this was an after effect of what had happened in the Crystal Cave. Perhaps he was like the High Priestesses now, where no mortal blade could kill him. He truly did not know what to think of it.

He foraged for some berries and edible roots in the forest, lighting the fire once again in order to make himself a meal, despite his lack of appetite. The nightmare continued to replay in his mind, over and over again as he tried to make sense of it all, he eventually decided he would have to ask Kilgarrah about it. Perhaps it had been memories from this world's Merlin, or perhaps it had in fact been a mere nightmare. He had carved out a wooden bowl by hand, using a somewhat sharp rock and and old tree stub, combined with a healthy dose of magic. The campfire was covered by a rock slab kept up by some taller rocks, to keep the bowl from catching fire as he didn't exactly have any metal pots with him, and it wasn't like he could make one out of thin air either.

He finished making the rather disgusting soup from the roots and water from the nearby creek, and begun to eat it reluctantly. The roots he had found were not tasty, especially not when mixed together, but beggars can't be choosers. He would have to kill some time, as he had no intention of trying to infiltrate Camelot of broad daylight, and thus he spent his time making his camp somewhat more comfortable. He gathered tall grass from the clearing and bundled them together in order to make a somewhat more comfortable bedding. He gathered some roots and herbs and hung them up to dry with some fiber he stripped from nearby plants. He made sure to get some medicinal herbs as well, in case he got injured like he had done the day before. The same disgusting roots from his breakfast would likely become his lunch and his dinner as well, as this part of the forest did not have much else to offer.

Keeping himself busy kept his mind away from all the messed up things that had happened in such a short amount of time, and after some hard work he had a less uncomfortable camp to spend the night at.

He wandered to the nearby creek, stripping off his bloodied clothes and washing them the best he could in the cold water, rubbing as much dried blood off his skin as he could. At least he still bled, so that helped him verify that he was still human, and not this monster everyone made him out to be.

Eventually, the sun set and night fell over Camelot. Thankfully, he had been sneaking in and out of Camelot more times than he cared to remember, so gaining access to the citadel without being noticed would be the easy part. Navigating through the castle and into the cave on the other hand, would not be as easy.

He set out, forcing the bars leading to the lower tunnels open. He eventually entered, walking as silently as he possibly could whilst maintaining a decent pace. He was so happy that he knew these tunnels like the back of his own pocket, for getting lost down here would have been absolutely terrible.

After a short while he caught glimpse of flickering light. Likely to be one of the guard posts, which signaled that it was time for him to leave the lower tunnels. He had to bypass them unnoticed, make it up the stairs and through three hallways, down another set of stairs and past another guard post before he'd arrive at the dragon's cave. Ideally he'd be able to remain unnoticed, but only time could tell how this would turn out.

He peeked his head out from around the corner, seeing the two guards playing dice. Typical. His eyes flashed golden and the dice were flung from the table and down onto the floor, bouncing a good distance away from the group. He couldn't even begin to count how many times he had used that strategy to slip past guards. He was thankful that it still worked, but still rather sad that it had. The guards really needed to step up their guarding game, but he most certainly wasn't about to complain about that right now.

He made it up the staircase and down the first hallway before he heard approaching footsteps. Rapidly he found cover behind one of the pillars, hearing two all too familiar voices getting closer and closer for each passing moment. Morgana and Guinevere. He resisted the urge to peek out from behind his cover as the two women walked down the hallway, accompanied by a pair of guards.

Why was Morgana still in Camelot? Guinevere didn't look like a serving girl either, so it was clear that she had married Arthur, just like she had done in his world. But Morgana, she did not belong in the Castle. She had died in his world, she had attacked Camelot so many times, tried to kill him so many times, and tried to kill Arthur even more often. But here she was, chatting away in the friendliest of ways with Guinevere, as if nothing had happened.

Morgana came to a halt, casting a glance over her shoulder as a serious expression washed over her face. He pressed himself closer to the wall, begging that she had not caught a glimpse of him.

"What is it, Morgana?" Guinevere questioned, coming to a stop once the noticed that Morgana was no longer walking with her.

"I thought I saw something. I just got a funny feeling, that's all." She spoke towards Guinevere, offering the woman a smile. "It is probably nothing." Morgana added, continuing her walk with Guinevere, casting another brief glance over her shoulder.

Funny feeling. She had sensed his presence, or the presence of someone else in the vicinity. That meant that Morgana still had magic, but likely not as strong as it had been in his world. What if Morgana never left Camelot, what if her heart had never been darkened with bitterness and hatred in this world. What if he had instead?

The two women disappeared around the corner, and Merlin begun walking again. He reached the last hallway, as another familiar voice reached him. Arthur. He ducked behind cover, hiding himself to the best of his ability as Arthur and Leon walked past his hiding spot. From the look on their faces, they must have been celebrating, and they had probably been celebrating the fact that they had managed to drive him away, at least from what he managed to gather from their conversation. Hearing that hurt, and it hurt a lot.

He managed to make his way past the last guard post, now venturing down towards the dragon's cave, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. He stepped out onto the ledge, inhaling deeply before he roared. "Kilgarrah! Where are you?!"

A gust of wind almost knocked him of his feet at Kilgarrah appeared, bearing one of the most condescending look upon his face. "Merlin."

He noticed that he was very much chained up. "I called for you!" Merlin let out.

"And I heard." the dragon responded. "Tell me Young Warlock, what brings you here? Have you come to gloat, or have you come to turn me against Camelot as a weapon?" The dragon questioned, bearing disgust in his voice.

"What? No! I would never! I need you to listen to me, Kilgarrah, for there is something very wrong happening here!" Merlin let out, frustration portrayed in his voice.

"It took you this long to realize the error of your ways, Young Warlock?"

"Error of my ways? No! Just listen! I do not belong here! This is not my world! I do not know what happened, or why I am here, but nothing is as it should be!" Merlin exclaimed, a lump beginning to form in his throat.

"I was at the Lake of Avalon. The night sky swallowed up the moon, leaving a ring of light in it's place. When I woke up, I headed for Camelot, but when I arrived at, I was met by an army. Arthur tried to kill me, everyone feared me, looked at me as if I was going to kill them. I would never harm anyone!" Merlin spoke, pausing briefly

"In my world you were freed, Arthur passed away after the battle at Camlann, Morgana and Mordred had been his downfall, just like destiny foretold. There was another dragon, Aithusa! You were no longer the last dragon, Kilgarrah! Everything had happened just like it had been foretold. Arthur was laid to rest at Avalon. I threw the sword into the lake, where no one else could wield it! You helped forge the sword, the sword with the power to kill what cannot be killed. It was forged in a dragon's breath! You must believe me, I beg of you! I do not know what to do, I don't know what has happened to me!" Merlin let out, desperation being clear in his voice.

Kilgarrah responded with silence. "Please! Tell me what to do!" Merlin pleaded, tears now streaming down his face.

"I am not certain that I believe in your story, Young Warlock. But if what you say is true, then this world is safe from your counterpart's destructive desires, and dark intentions." Kilgarrah finally spoke.

"What do you mean?" Merlin let out, fearing the answer that may come.

"You were in a place where the old religion is at it's strongest, when the veil between the different worlds were at it's very thinnest. It is possible to cross between worlds, but only if your magic is strong, and your soul is filled with desire for something that can only be found elsewhere." Kilgarrah explained, without answering Merlin's question.

He fell silent, the words of the great dragon flashing across his mind. He had wished for Arthur to still be with them, for him to still be alive, and in this world, he still was. He was in a completely different world, because he had been in the wrong place, at the wrong time..

"What of this worlds Merlin.. Where is he?" He questioned.

"There can never two of the same souls in one world at any given time. He was brought to your world, Young Warlock, whilst you were brought to his."

Merlin froze in place, all color disappearing from his face. The monster who had left Camelot and the world trembling at his feet, was now in his world, free to do whatever he pleased, harm whoever he wanted. He begun to shake his head furiously.

"No! This can not be happening! Are you telling me that this worlds version of me, who has terrorized all these people, is now in my world?!" He exclaimed, anger now boiling in his chest.

"Yes, Young Warlock. That is exactly what I am saying."

"How can I undo this?! How do I return?!" Merlin shouted at Kilgarrah from the top his lungs.

"The world is finally free of your tyranny. Why would I tell you how to undo the very thing that has brought peace? This is truly a blessing to us all, Young Warlock."

"I am a Dragon Lord! You can not deny me!" Merlin shouted, infuriated with Kilgarrah's response. He was met with laughter.

"Dragon Lord you may be, but you now have a chance at keeping Arthur alive, and saving all those who were lost on your world. You should not be so eager to leave."

"I command you to tell me how to return!" Merlin barked out towards the dragon, fury visible in his blue eyes. Hesitantly Kilgarrah spoke.

"You must stand in a place where the Old Religion is at it's strongest, when the sun is swallowed up by darkness. When this happens, you must think of home, and your desire to return. That is the only way you can return to your own world. However, that will be your only chance of returning,Young Warlock. For when the sun reappears from the darkness, this change will have become permanent." Kilgarrah revealed. "You should think carefully before making your choice, for this may be your only chance at keeping them all alive." The dragon warned.

"I do not know any of these people anymore! In my world they were my friends, I would have done anything for them to keep them safe, and they would have done the same thing for me! This world is twisted and wrong, and now this twisted version of myself is in my world, harming my friends! I don't know what I have done in this world, but I want no part in any of this!"

"All that matters is that Arthur is still alive in this world, and that Camelot and the rest of the world is now safe from your wrath. You may not be welcomed here, nor anywhere, but surely that must be a small price to pay, in exchange for their safety. Surely giving this world a chance, before condemning it would be in your best interest. You may find people to be very forgiving." Kilgarrah responded, causing Merlin to fall silent.

The Great Dragon was right. Perhaps there was something he could do, in order to right all the wrongs his other self had done to all those he cared for.

"How long do I have, before I can return?" Merlin questioned, his eyes aimed towards the Dragon as he awaited his answer.

"A year."

Merlin nodded in response. A year.. He would be forced to live in his twisted world for a year, unable to help his friends in how own world, but this was an opportunity to fix everything that was wrong.. Perhaps, he could make this world one worth living in.

"Thank you, Kilgarrah. I will return to free you.. But I only have one question.. If you are still here, and I am still a Dragon lord in this world.. What happened to my father, Balinor?" Merlin questioned, his heart pounding in his chest as he awaited his answer.

"You killed him."

**Longest Chapter to date. I hope I didn't cram too much information into this chapter, but it's to set up for things that are going to happen in the future chapters. Dragging this out may have left the story too confusing. Please let me know what you think!**