Previous Chapter: A secret journey in the middle of the night puts the young queen of Avalon in the heart of Camelot to protect from an oncoming threat. There she learns a cold secret about Merlin. Merlin chooses between staying in Avalon or protecting Camelot.

Authors note: please leave questions or suggests.

"Kind Goddess accept me as defender. I am here to accept Avalon."

In the dark stillness of the waters below the cavern of the Castle reservoir, Wen reached out a risky hand in the shimmer of yellow torchlight. She hovered her hand above the water and tried to pool it into a dried well. No matter how much water surrounded it, no matter how the water was poured in the ancient well, only one kind could fill it. And that was water generated by the hand of the true queen of Avalon, the protector of Avalon gate and the Isle of the blessed.

She threw her torch, plunging herself into darkness.

Tiny airy sobs were heard in that black.

Misty morning peeled away. The great King Arthur's body drifted on the lake of Avalon. His hands placed lovingly at his sides and a crimson cape surrounding his pale blond form, the image of a golden dragon in the fabric. He drifted on placid water until the sun drew higher. Then the water grew less still. The small boat, so lovingly laid, swayed, rocking as waves slapped against the sides. The "Once and Future King" lay in the shadow of timelessness, protected by his enemies in the Immortalized Isle of the Blessed. In Avalon.

She glided through the Hall. "There's no way around it," she said to Saffer. "I'll have to return to Avalon."

"You act as if you don't understand," said Saffer. "Avalon is the draw spring of magic here. Without its power in the conduit of its protector, it's not just susceptible to magic curses. Most spells cast by the old ways will die."

"Magic is nature," said Wen, "It won't end."

Saffer frowned. "But the spells of the Old Ways will." She nodded. "Best keep this a secret. I'll meet you with the Druid Iseldir tonight. We will act as your guardians, given most of your court can't be trusted."

Wen stood in front of her trainer. "A keeper of the Isle knows how to contact and control powers of nature in animals. The deer of the Sylven forest are mostly tamed by years of sorcerers. Take this one, and show me once how you ride."

Wen frowned. "I'm much too big to ride a deer. Even a large one. No reins?"

"No," said her trainer. "No reins. Just magic."

"My studies are done for today," said Wen.

A soldier with sord at his side, one of the young knights, jogged into the meeting hall during formal meetings on a trade route.

"Majesty, the south wall is crumbling. I can see through the gate at the line of the forest."

They rode on horseback, Meilyr and Tannic accompanying Wen. They broke from the tree-line and followed the Wall separating the castle lawn from the citadel. It should have been hidden by magic, but a youth atop the wall at guard saw them and waved with a stressed grin.

"We have to do something about this." Wen turned her horse around. "You are my most trusted knights; can I have your oath to protect me regardless of circumstance?"

"What happened," said Tannic.

"I believe the magic of the ceremony of Avalon never took. Rual's betrayal stopped the ceremony, and now I fear the magic most depend upon for practice of the Old Ways may be gone forever."

In the shadow of Merlin's chamber, his newfound 'apprentice' had rose from his small bed and snuck to the fireplace. The boy shoved his pale fingers spread wide in the black soot and coal, cooled off, previous fire and focused on the scraps of wood. "forswele…"

The spark of a few embers appeared. The boy pressed his face down and blew on them, bundling scraped wood pulp to kindle.

"What are you doing there?"

The boy rounded. Merlin sat up, hair on end and pressing an eye with his palm. "You're doing chores already," he said groggily. "You aren't my servant," he said.

Essylt burst in with a piled basket of laundry. "I think he's trying to impress you," she said.

They both recoiled.

She held her hand out for spoiled clothes until they gave her some and buzzed away like a bee, slamming the door.

"Is she your servant, master?" said Oisan.

With a face, Merlin shook his head. "She doesn't listen much." They laughed. "Come on. I need to feed the Dragon soon."

They left for the courtyard, Merlin still in his white nightshirt and cloak. Merlin had Tor leave out the unused parts of animal from the knights' meals. Scraps had become a common meal for Aithusa. "He doesn't care in the least," said Merlin, hands on hips as Aithusa chomped bones.

Oisan grimaced. Merlin turned to the side and pulled him away. "What's the matter? Are you scared? He won't hurt anyone unless he's cornered," he said. "Honestly likes to play more than anything."

"It's just gross," said Oisan.

Merlin laughed. "He's a magical creature; he doesn't tuck in."

A troop of guards ran past them. Cardell followed chatting loudly with them, telling them, "Everything is under control. Follow the guard master's orders. The queen has departed on an unforeseen quest."

What happened?" Merlin asked.

Cardell frowned and pushed past him.

Merlin looked through the knights and guards.

"Tannic and Meilyr are missing," he said.

"Who's that?" said Oisan.

"The queens closest knights," he said. "We have nothing better to do," said Merlin. "What say you we ask the Druids?"

"That's the symbol of life magic," said Oisan.

"It's a rebirth and regeneration symbol of the white goddess. But it does come with rules," a dark skinned Druid opened a hand to offer Merlin sit. Oisan read their faces and went outside.

"Such as?" said Merlin.

"Such as those who live by magic die by magic, and the other way around. Some believe the lives given are emulative of the lives taken in magical circumstances. The whole idea is that to gain something is to lose something, but that's not applicable with life. It's human reasoning to talk about counted lives. Both magic and nature kill all the time, and magic isn't normally necessary for life to be born. That's not the law of magic, it is –"

"The reasoning of sorcerers," said Merlin. "Why did the queen need this again?"

"She is going to the wellspring of magic to claim its ability. Without proper acceptance, the river will cease and the magic of Avalon will fail."

Merlin brushed a thumb idly with clasped hands. "The magic of Avalon is granted by the gods."

"Then be sure someone accepted by them is there."

"That's not me," said Merlin. "It is her."

"She'll be in Avalon, in the gravesite before morning calls. If you're not attuned to life magic, this might be your only chance for a thousand years."

"Chance for what?"

"Your king Arthur lies in wait. If you truly believe he is worth any cost, you'd have a chance."

"But it'd destroy the magic of Avalon. All magic comes from Avalon and the old religion. It can't be separated like the princess thinks it can."

"So, she is still only 'princess. You as well as I know if the magic doesn't settle into her soon, there will be an attack on magic, even among the people. Not everyone here is Fey like her."

"They're Fey," said Merlin.

The mage nodded. "Born of a line of sihde and people. It's not the only line that exists of the union, but it is the longest surviving. They're attuned to magic, but it takes work."
"She doesn't look it," said Merlin.
"I don't know if you can call them magical creatures. They're not even a race, just a family line, but it helps."

"I protected Arthur because I believed in a land free for magic. I'd be abandoning all of that for the sake of him. Wouldn't that be selfishness?"

Merlin stood and gathered Oisan outside the tent. They spent the next few hours doing chores.

Washing was an easy thing, especially once he got over the idea of doing it by hand.

Life magic got the world into the mess it was in. Merlin chanced upon the armory. It was vastly different from Camelot's armory, but the day-to-day chores brought the castle back. He enjoyed seeing the difference his work made. And he wanted to keep the boy out of trouble.

The boy threw a cloth down. "Why don't we use magic? You could have the floors done in minutes – not hours."

"There are still ways to do things other than magic. It can't be everything."

"So boring!"

Merlin tipped a sack over. It spilled with loud clanging and metallic clinks.

Oisan groaned.

Merlin heard something circular rolling back and forth and noticed a metal ringed horn. He lifted the horn and cradled it delicately, analyzing it. It was the horn of Cathbhadh.

Merlin's eyes flitted carefully over the ancient relic, knowing it likely got mishandled in delivery to the vaults. And knowing its power. Such a relic was used to recall spirits at the stone circle of Nemeton. Arthur had received it from saving a woman of the old religion from being burned. This kingdom must have received it from Camelot. Likely in secret.

"Why don't you see Tor," said Merlin. "Get something to eat."

Merlin snuck a horse and set for the gap in the turn of the wall, easily following the trail he remembered to Avalon. When he got there, it was closed behind them. But he knew at once they were still there.

He brushed his hand where the archway and opening was. "Great way of Avalon, open to me. I have a quest of great urgency."

Merlin landed. The rush of air finally stopped, the overcast landscape replaced with a perfectly still summer, frozen perpetually in windless perfection. He moved through the grasses and through the grove.

Saffer, in full Druid gown grabbed him.

She clawed his arm and pulled him behind her.

"What's happening? Said Merlin.

"The cauldron doesn't open for her. We've chosen wrong," she said.

Merlin sighed and let a slow breath out, closing his eyes. "Or you've come in the wrong time. It's not the turn of any season and the last queen's death has passed weeks ago. The old veil might not be open."

She let him go.

He glared and sighed, looking back at the knights and entourage and rubbing his arm.

With tears streaming down her face, she held her hands out in front of her.

Merlin ducked low with a bow, speaking softly. "Milady," he said. "Take my hand." He held it out. She looked away and took it. He lifted her out of the still water, her dress soaked and dripping to the knees. "There," he said. He pulled out the horn.

She gasped and looked up.

We're in the isle of Avalon, but the veil is still active here, that's why the dead don't simply return," he looked around.

"You had bad intentions for that," she accused.

He bowed his head with an appeasing smile. "Use it on the water," he said, "It'll call the veil between this and the next to thin, which will call the power of the Goddess."

She blinked, took the horn, and blew it over the water. Merlin, standing with her, retreated up the shore, but didn't escape the flood of white. It flashed and died, and she spoke the sihde call to the goddess again.

Merlin stumbled back. The water pulled away from her feet and she staggered gently forward, lifting her dress slightly.

He lost sight of her for a blip of time, not much longer than a blink, and the air filled with the humming he knew as the world flooded with a sense of thrumming life. He didn't stand but pulled back on the still grass, pulling away from the bright light.

"A Thiarna, glac liom mar chosantóir dílis. Táim anseo chun glacadh le hAvalon."

It faded. He looked back at Saffer, Iseldir the Druid, and the awed knights. Then rushed forward to pull her from the water.

The silver capped horn was in the grass as he swan-carried her from the water. He reached down, using magic to draw it into his cloak. He delivered her to her horse, walking past the others with a strict expression.

Merlin looked expressionlessly back over the field, and took in the shocking crimson that was Arthur's cape before the veil fissured closed like ice over a pond. He'd made his choice.

It would be a thousand years before anyone could make it again.