Merlin was floating away, gliding on a river of pain. Every inch of his skin burned in agony from the water that felt like fire. It was unending; an eternity spent suffering. When enough time passed that he couldn't take the heat and the pain anymore, he would fall unconscious, swallowed by the darkness, only to return to that same river, drifting away.
He only realized that it was all a dream when he woke once to be given water. Unlike the waves around him, the water that dripped down his throat was cold and fresh, bringing a sweet relief against the knives cutting away at his insides.
All too soon though it was gone, and he sank back into the burning waves that consumed him. Floating. Burning. Darkness. A never ending cycle he could not break.
He woke another time to the sound of screaming wind and freezing cold, but when he tried to open his eyes there was nothing but flames. He didn't fight to stay awake, not with fire so close and deadly.
The next time he rose back into consciousness, it was as if he'd traded one nightmare for another. The world was dark, and there was ragged breathing next to him. Merlin barely found the strength to open his eyes, and when he did, he wished he hadn't.
Lying next to him, shivering and pale, was Arthur. The prince's face was covered in blood, and he was glaring accusingly at the warlock.
"Why?" He hissed, though the noise was garbled in the boy's ears. "Why did you use magic?" Before Merlin could even think to be scared, or to question how he knew, the darkness was dragging him back under.
The fourth time he woke he managed to stay awake, lying still and quiet before he attempted to move his head. The regret was once again immediate, as his body screamed. He made a noise that was something between a whimper and a yelp, but this time he didn't fade back into the darkness that had been consuming him.
Instead, he stared at a fire across from him that burned low and warm, as well as a small, wooden dish that sparkled with the promise of water. It took him a few attempts to sit up, but finally Merlin managed.
Pain shot through his left side, and the moment he was upright his head swam as if he were still underwater. His left wrist could barely stand to have weight put upon it, and when he shifted he found his right foot had been pulled free from its boot and was swollen and bruised. He was also simultaneously hot and cold, his senses at war with each other as he reached a shaking hand out to the dish.
It was reminiscent of the one he'd had in his satchel that he used when out in the forest for Gaius, though how it had managed to find itself full of clear water he wasn't sure. Of course, he wasn't going to take the gift for granted, and as he lurched his body forward, his fingers just began to graze the bowl when a voice spoke behind him.
"Careful."
Merlin jolted, adrenaline coursing through him as he pulled back and turned his head with a grimace. Once his vision stopped swimming, he could make out the shadowed form of Arthur, sitting against a rocky wall.
He was huddled in on himself, with his arms resting across his knees. He wasn't covered in blood like in the boy's nightmares, but there were a few scratches along his right cheek, and his eyes held a harsh gleam to them.
"That's all the water we have for now."
It took Merlin two tries to find his voice, and when he finally did, it came out with a croak. "Where are we?"
"A cave." Arthur stated dryly, studying the warlock with cold, calculating eyes.
"Cave?" The boy repeated, unable to wrap his mind around why they would possibly be inside a cave.
"Yes, Merlin. A cave. The one you snuck out to in the middle of the night, remember?" The man's voice was callous, and Merlin's mind reeled as he tried to find a reason for the anger.
When had he snuck out? Well, lots of times, but when to go to a cave? Alright, also lots of times, but when recently? Suddenly the memory came back to him, striking him like a blow to the head as Merlin leaned forward with a gasp of pain. Ralcade. That's right. He'd snuck out to meet the old court sorcerer. But why was Arthur there? Was this some trick Ralcade had concocted?
"Why are you here?" Merlin asked, reaching again for the water as his voice caught in his throat and burned as he spoke.
"I came looking for you, obviously." Arthur scoffed, full on glaring at the boy now as he carefully took a drink and nearly moaned at the relief it provided. "Except of course, that was two days ago." Arthur snapped, pushing himself off the wall and walking into the light of the fire.
"Two days?" Merlin gawked, setting the dish down with a bit of water still remaining as his eyes tracked the prince's movements. "Why are we still here?"
"That is the question, isn't it?" Arthur scowled, shaking his head. "When I came to find you, it was during the beginnings of a winter storm. My horse ran off when another cave in occurred, and we've been left snowed into this cave ever since."
Merlin's head pounded, his eyes partially closing as his stomach twisted with the weight of the water now in it. "You could have left." He mumbled, his mouth beginning to fill with saliva that he tried to swallow back down.
"And leave you here? Yes, I could have. But I didn't." Arthur muttered, as if he were wondering why, himself.
"That was.. kind.." Merlin panted, the heat against his face from the fire causing him to sweat as he pushed himself away.
"Merlin?"
"It's really.. hot.." The boy mumbled, his stomach churning as he turned and tried to stand.
Both his wrist and ankle gave out against the weight he put on them, causing the boy to fall back to his knees on the ground. That didn't stop him, however, as he pushed forward on his hands and knees, desperate to find the cold air at the mouth of the cave as sweat dripped down the back of his neck.
After another few moments of nausea, Merlin could no longer fight the sickness, and he stopped near one of the walls and began to heave. The water he had consumed just moments before came splashing back out, coating the rocks in front of him as an awful retching noise filled his ears.
His entire body shuddered from the vicious movement, and his head began to ache even more than before. His stomach cramped as his next heave gave nothing, and Merlin looked up blearily towards the bend that he knew would lead him back outside.
Nearly blinded by the pain in his head and the heat burning through him, the warlock still struggled to push himself forward, the desire for cool, fresh air all he could think about.
"Wait, what are you doing?" A hollow voice demanded, and a hand clamped down on the boy's arm, stopping him from moving.
"Let go.. I have to get out." Merlin moaned, struggling forward as the rocks beneath him shifted in and out of focus.
Suddenly a gust of freezing air shot through the cave, and a breath of relief shuddered out of the boy at the feeling. He made it another few inches before he collapsed onto the ground littered with rocks, still a few feet from the mouth of the cave.
He could make out a partial wall of snow built up around the front of the entrance, and when he lifted his gaze, he could see the dark gray sky hanging above. He needed to get home. He needed to follow his destiny.
"Merlin, you can't just—"
"I have.. to protect.. him." The warlock mumbled, trying to shake off the hand that had reclaimed its grip on his arm.
"Protect who?" The voice demanded, suddenly guarded and upset as Merlin closed his eyes tightly to fight back another wave of nausea.
"Arthur."
"Yes?"
"I have to protect.. Arthur." Merlin spoke, grimacing at the pain that flared once again in his head. It felt as though someone had taken a woodcarver's axe to him, and he didn't think he could stand the pain for much longer.
"You're going to protect me?" The voice laughed, and the hand on his arm let go. "You're delirious, Merlin."
"I have to go!" The warlock cried, trying to push himself back up as a sound of pain broke past his lips.
He couldn't let the pain win, he had to go back. Ralcade was plotting and planning, and Merlin needed to stop him before it was too late.
"Merlin, you need to come back in by the fire." Opening his eyes again, the warlock found Arthur kneeling beside him, concern flickering across his face as he grabbed ahold of the boy's shoulders and shook him from his delirium. "You're hurt, and feverish, and lying here in the cold is only going to make it worse."
For a moment Merlin didn't move, all he did was stare. Arthur's blue eyes watched him back, and a wave of guilt crashed over the warlock. He did this. Arthur was only out in the forest because he'd come looking for him. He had to get the two of them back. He had to get help.
Arthur was all Camelot really had now, and what would happen to Uther if, or when, he learned that his son was gone? No, they couldn't stay in the cave any longer. Merlin would find a way to get them through the storm.
"We need to go." He stated, finding a reserve of strength he didn't know he had as he fought through the pain and pushed himself to his feet.
Merlin made it all of four steps outside before he collapsed into the knee high snow. Sinking into the soft powder, the boy couldn't hold back the content sigh at the cold seeping through his clothes. The chilled air and the snow itself had worked immediately at soothing his aching limbs and clearing his foggy mind, and now that he was outside where the sky reflected off the snow, Merlin found he could finally see the extent of his injuries.
Cuts and bruises littered his skin, from near his fingertips to across his arms and up past his elbows. From the stinging he felt on his calves and knees from the snow melting against him, he suspected his legs probably looked the same.
His head was swimming from all his movements, and the pain in his side was familiar with that of cracked, if not broken, ribs. Even so, Merlin took in breath after breath of the cold air, allowing it to fill up his lungs and race over his broken body. Setting his gaze on the trees in front of him, the boy barely noticed when Arthur followed him out, standing next to him with a frustrated sigh.
"You're going to freeze to death, and you'll have no one to blame but yourself." The prince muttered, but Merlin wasn't paying attention to him.
Instead, his focus was on a shape moving amongst the trees. A branch trembled, shaking snow to the ground, and suddenly a pair of eyes glinted back at him. The hint of a smile came next, and a chill ran up the boy's spine that had nothing to do with the snow. Ralcade was watching them, hiding himself in the trees.
"He's there." Merlin uttered in a low whisper, staring hard at the sorcerer whose eyes suddenly closed, causing him to disappear from sight.
"Who is?" Arthur asked quietly, dropping down beside his friend as Merlin caught his breath and scanned the tree line.
He was about to attack, wasn't he? And here they were, sitting out in the open like perfect prey.
"He's there!" Merlin hissed, his voice rising in pitch as panic wrapped tight around him.
Ralcade was going to kill Arthur. He wasn't going to wait for him to become king anymore. That vision he'd seen of Arthur lying beside him, covered in blood, was about to come true. Merlin had to stop him. He couldn't let Arthur die.
"Merlin, no one is there." Arthur was saying, his own voice returning to normal as Merlin shook his head, causing pain to shoot through his eyes and down his neck.
"Get behind me." The warlock spoke, carefully propping himself up with one hand as he thrust the other out in front of him.
"Merlin, what are you—"
"Ástrice!"
Nothing happened. He felt no magic within him, no rush of adrenaline, no nothing.
"Merlin, what in the hell are you doing?" Arthur demanded from beside him.
"I'm protecting you."
"What?"
"He's going to kill you!" Merlin scowled, shifting his weight and biting back a cry of pain from the burning making its way through his ribcage.
"Merlin, no one is there." Arthur said, enunciating each word as if the boy were hard of hearing.
Ignoring the man, Merlin threw out his hand again and focused hard on the magic that he knew had to be inside of him somewhere. "Hors, beride þá heofonum!" Nothing. Not a single thing happened.
Merlin dropped his hand in disbelief, his mind racing, when all of a sudden Arthur grabbed him. Yanking him around, the prince's hands flew to the boy's face and grasped hold of his head on either side, the man's fingers warm against his cold cheeks.
"Merlin!" Arthur's shout was loud and furious and almost.. desperate. "Look at me, look at me!" He yelled, and the warlock obeyed immediately, his wide eyes meeting his friend's. "Stop it right now, do you understand me? You cannot do magic, you can't."
Merlin's heart raced in his chest as Arthur stared at him, hard blue eyes searching the boy's face. "But—"
"No, Merlin. If my father were to learn of what you just tried, if anyone in Camelot learned, do you have any idea what I'd be forced to do to you?"
For a moment so fleeting it could have just been a trick of the moonlight, Merlin swore he saw a glimpse of panic in Arthur's face. Then it was gone, exchanged with a hard, irritated look that was asking him why he was such an idiot.
Merlin's failed attempts at his magic, paired with the realization that he'd just tried to use magic in front of Arthur, caused the boy to waver, dizziness washing over him hard and fast. Unable to stop the motion, Merlin's head fell out of Arthur's hands and instead landed onto the man's shoulder while his body collapsed against the prince's chest.
"I'm sorry." The warlock mumbled, his words muffled by the prince's tunic as he felt Arthur suck in a sharp breath.
"Get back inside the cave before I have to drag you. Again." Taking one of the boy's arms, Arthur half carried, half dragged him back inside the cave before dropping him down in front of the fire once more.
For a while that was how they sat, staring into the flames and listening to the wind howling outside as the storm picked up again.
"You're bleeding." Arthur commented some time later, drawing Merlin out of his half-awake state.
Looking down, Merlin stared at one of several long, jagged cuts along his left forearm. He hadn't noticed it before, but it had to have happened back during the cave in, because the edges were already scabbed over. A deeper section near his wrist had reopened, and crimson blood dotted the surface of his arm where the boy had been picking absently at the skin.
Tugging at a torn section of his tunic, Merlin smeared the blood away with little care, barely feeling the sting from the open wound.
"You should try to eat something." Arthur was next to him now, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, and held out the dish of water from before and what looked like a charred twig.
Blinking, Merlin stared at the food before glancing up at the prince. "Is that.. tree bark?"
"What?" Arthur scoffed, looking down at it with a frown. "No! It's a rabbit leg."
"Rabbit?" Merlin repeated, picking up the supposed meat and turning it over in his hand. "What did you do, throw the whole thing into the fire?"
"No." Arthur scowled, walking away and settling back near the wall again. "It fell in."
"Sure." Merlin mumbled, beginning to gnaw on the burnt meat while slowly sipping the water. "It tastes.. not good."
"Stomach it, Merlin. It's the only creature I've seen in the last two days." The blond snapped. The warlock did as he was told, chewing the tough meat as silence fell over them.
"Merlin, where did you learn those words?" Arthur asked a few moments later.
The boy froze at the question, his mind foggy and his heart pounding. "I don't know. I'm not even sure what's real or not right now. I thought Ralcade was here. I thought you were dying. I thought.. I don't know." Merlin admitted miserably around the lump in his throat.
Was this finally the time? Was he going to admit what he was to Arthur? Would the prince hate him? Burn him? Banish him? Merlin was so tired though, tired and sore, and a piece of him didn't even care what happened. He just wanted to go home and hope his magic returned.
"Did you get it from this?" Looking over, Merlin's breath caught at the sight of Ralcade's journal held aloft in Arthur's hand.
"Where did you find that?" The boy asked, resisting the urge to go over and snatch it away. What if he'd left some of his own notes inside, revealing his handwriting that Arthur would recognize?
"By the fire. You know, inside this cave that nearly killed you." Arthur spat as the warlock's eyes fell to the ground.
"He must have dropped it." Merlin whispered before hearing a sharp intake of breath come from the prince behind him.
"Merlin, did he threaten you?"
"What?" The boy stared, shock keeping his mouth hanging open as the blond shifted where he sat.
"That sorcerer, Ralcade."
"Arthur, I don't—"
"I know he wants something from me once I become king, Merlin. I'm not an idiot. I'm aware of what I owe him."
Guilt crashed down over the warlock again as he drew his shoulders in and slumped down where he sat. The only reason Arthur even had the debt he did was because of him. The prince had never needed to get mixed up in everything like he had.
"Arthur—"
"I won't have you trying to pay off my debts, Merlin." The man cut in, glaring at his servant who met his stern gaze.
"I wasn't."
"Then why were you out here?" Arthur demanded, leaning forward as the boy sighed.
"He wanted to talk to me."
"He wants you to learn magic, is that it?" The disgusted look that Arthur wore was enough to keep the boy silent, unsure what he could say. "Well, I won't have him turning you into.. that." Waving a hand towards the journal, Arthur threw it down by his leg.
"Into what?" Merlin asked, his voice barely audible as any plans of telling the prince the truth about himself burned away like the sticks in the fire.
"A sorcerer." Arthur shook his head, scowling at the flames. "All magic is evil. All magic kills. Look what it almost did to you, and he just wanted to talk."
"I don't think it's all bad." Merlin defended quietly, his pleading gaze staring at Arthur who slowly turned his head to glare at him.
"What did you just say?"
"Nothing, never mind." The boy backtracked quickly, looking away from the hatred in the man's eyes.
"My head hurts." He uttered a moment later, dropping his head into his hands as the prince sighed behind him.
"Everything hurts for you, Merlin."
"You're not wrong." The boy chuckled dryly, massaging his temples as he heard Arthur's footsteps behind him. A moment later the man knelt near the fire, and Merlin looked up to see him toss a few more twigs in that he'd been letting dry beside it.
"Never again."
"What?"
"I never want to see you meeting with that sorcerer again, Merlin. Is that understood?" For a moment they stared at one another, and finally the warlock nodded. "Good." Arthur muttered, starting to move away again when the boy suddenly cleared his throat.
"Why did you come looking for me, Arthur?"
"It wasn't just me." The man scoffed, turning his head away and adjusting his tunic that had smears of blood across it. "Gwaine and I both came looking for you. And before you think it's for any other reason, I went along only because he pressured me into it." Arthur huffed, jutting a finger at the boy who stared.
"Really?"
"Really." Arthur repeated, turning away and sitting down on the other side of the fire as Merlin began to pick at a piece of skin hanging beside one of his nails.
"You said we've been here for two days, didn't you? That's a long time. The knights must be searching all over for you."
"And yet they still haven't found me. Which I believe says more about them than it does about us." A flicker of amusement darted across the blond's face before his expression sobered and he stared into the fire. "You should sleep, Merlin. Resting is the only way you'll rid yourself of that fever and give us a chance to leave."
Voicing his agreement, the boy turned over and settled into the warmth that Arthur's cloak provided beneath him as his mind began to wander. Arthur had come to his rescue, gotten trapped during a storm with him, and yet he didn't even truly know who Merlin was. The man wouldn't have done any of that if he did, the warlock was certain. That thought alone hurt almost as much as his injuries did.
Closing his eyes tightly, Merlin tried to look deep, searching for any of the magic within him to help speed along his recovery. All he discovered, however, was a chasm that echoed deep and empty where his magic should have been flowing within him. What had Ralcade done to him? When would his magic return?
Thoughts and questions drifted through the warlock's mind as he finally fell asleep. It was a restless sleep though, the heat from the fire and his own body making him uncomfortable as a shudder ran through him.
"Merlin." A voice suddenly spoke in his mind, bouncing all around. "We are together as one now, my apprentice."
Jolting awake, Merlin's eyes flew open, and he found himself alone in the cold, dark cave. There was no fire, no Arthur, and he hurt so much more than when he had fallen asleep.
Blinking the dust from his eyes, Merlin squinted at the boulder that sat close to his face and sucked in a strangled gasp of air. He was on his stomach, with half his body pinned beneath the fallen rocks. Had it all been a dream? Had Arthur never been there to begin with? Or was this the dream, with him remembering what had already occurred?
"My, what trouble you cause." A voice crooned, and Merlin struggled to see who it belonged to as a shadow crouched down beside him. "I wish you'd have just listened to me and saved us both all the pain."
The glint of a knife flashed before him, and Merlin's eyes followed it as the blade lowered towards his arm. "Next time perhaps you should accept my hospitality and take the drink." The voice hissed, and fresh pain bloomed from the warlock's arm as the tip of the blade cut open the skin near his wrist. "No matter. This can be done the difficult way if it must."
The blade pulled away, and a hand partially covered in scales appeared in the boy's line of sight. Ralcade eased the knife against his own hand and cut into the flesh, gathering his blood on the blade.
Merlin could only watch as the knife lowered to his arm once more. The fresh wound burned as the blade wiped the sorcerer's blood into the cut, and the breath rushed out of Merlin as he realized what was happening.
"We will be one." Ralcade laughed, the cackling growing loud and harsh as Merlin's heart raced.
A scream built in his throat, but he couldn't seem to release it, leaving it trapped just like he was, stuck beneath the rocks and at the mercy of a mad man. As the seconds passed, Merlin could feel the strange blood mixing with his own, burning like fire through his veins.
"Sleep now, Merlin. And when you wake, I will be with you." The sorcerer's voice whispered.
The warlock could not fight the darkness taking over him, causing him to sink deeper and deeper into the abyss. When Merlin next opened his eyes, the scream he'd been fighting in his dream broke free, and his body jolted upright as sweat dripped down his neck.
"Merlin, calm down!" Arthur commanded from beside him. The prince hovered nearby with a wet cloth in one hand, and his other on the boy's shoulder. "Lie back, your fever had gotten worse and you're burning up."
"I have to stop it." Merlin mumbled, his words slurring together as he tried to push Arthur's hand away.
"Merlin, stop."
"Get it out.." The boy panted, his chest heaving as the heat from the sorcerer's blood burned him from the inside out. How long had it been festering? Two days now? Nearly three? "Get it out!"
"What are you—" Arthur's question cut off as Merlin reached out to the prince's side and grabbed hold of his dagger, yanking it free from his belt. "Merlin!"
"I have to stop it." The warlock whispered to himself, staring down at the multitude of scrapes and cuts on his arm.
Which one was it? Why couldn't he remember? Picking one at random, Merlin didn't hesitate to drive the tip of the blade into his arm and rip it open, his teeth gritting as the flesh parted and spilled fresh blood down his arm.
"Stop it!" Arthur cried, lunging for the knife.
Merlin twisted out of his reach, driving the knife into another cut and ripping the scab open. "Get out, get out, get out!" He screamed, managing to open a third cut on his arm before Arthur wrenched the knife away.
Throwing the dagger back into the shadows of the cave, true fear was apparent all over the man's face.
"I need it out!" Merlin screamed, trying to go after the knife as Arthur pushed him back.
The two struggled for a few moments before the prince shoved him down. Pinning the boy to the ground with a hand on each shoulder, Arthur hovered over Merlin and fought against his thrashing.
"Merlin, Merlin stop! There's nothing there! Nothing is in your arm!" Arthur shouted, shaking the boy while frantically looking at his arm that was now heavily bleeding.
"I need to get it out!"
"Merlin, you have to fight this! The fever, it's messing with your head! You're seeing things that aren't there!"
"No, no! It's there, and I have to get it out." Merlin coughed, fighting to reach his arm again while Arthur bit back a cry.
"Please, please, Merlin!" For a moment the warlock stopped, his erratic breathing slowing as he focused on the man above him who he had never heard beg like that before. "Please fight this. You have to fight it." Arthur pled, his voice a half whisper that broke on the way out.
Merlin had never seen such panic in his friend's eyes before, nor an expression of such open emotion as he begged him to stop. For the first time, Merlin also noted the deep, dark circles that bruised the skin beneath the man's eyes. Had Arthur slept at all since he'd found him?
The delirium and desperation that had seized Merlin when he woke began to ebb, and the boy's body relaxed against the prince's hold. Another moment passed before Arthur finally released him, moving slowly aside as the boy pushed himself up, cradling his bloodied arm against his chest.
"Are you afraid of me?" He asked quietly, wondering just how much of Ralcade's blood pulsed through him now. How exactly would it taint him and his magic?
"No, Merlin." Arthur answered wearily. "I'm afraid for you."
Blinking, the warlock met his eye and shook his head. "I would never betray you, Arthur. You have to believe that."
"I know that, Merlin." Arthur nodded once, his brows drawing together in confusion at where the conversation had turned.
"I'm sorry."
"I know that, too." Arthur spoke, leaning in to look at the boy's arm.
Instead of letting him, Merlin fell forward, crashing into Arthur's chest and wrapping his good arm around him in a half hug. Arthur's body went rigid at the action, and Merlin could feel his heart pounding before a hand gently patted his back a couple of times.
"Lie back already. Your fever still hasn't broken and now you've gotten blood everywhere as well." The prince spoke gruffly, though the words lacked the irritation they would normally carry.
The boy laid back in a weary daze, staring up at the ceiling as Arthur melted snow against his arm and a neckerchief that he vaguely remembered Ralcade ripping free was wrapped around his cuts. When Merlin fell asleep not long after, it was deep and dreamless, his body sinking into a restful place.
By the time the boy woke, it was to the sound of horse hooves and a rocking wagon. Prying open his eyes, Merlin blinked against the flakes of snow falling down on him, and found a thick blanket wrapped tightly around him up to his chin. He was in the back of a cart, and when he turned his head to the right, he found Gaius sitting beside him, one hand stretched out to keep the blanket from falling.
"Gaius?" The boy croaked, staring up at his guardian who looked at him with a mixture of concern and relief. "Gaius, what—"
"Quiet, my boy." The elder spoke softly, gesturing to the boy's left.
As Merlin turned, he found Arthur next to him. The prince was wrapped up in two cloaks and was sleeping against one side of the cart.
"How did you find us?" The warlock asked, keeping his voice soft as Gaius smiled briefly.
"A young man from a nearby village saw smoke from your fire and led us here. And it's a good thing he did."
Blinking against the weariness that begged him to sleep again, Merlin barely shook his head. "I didn't know any villages were nearby."
"I'm not certain, but I know we never would have found you without that young man's help. Besides, all that matters is that you are safe." Gaius spoke, tucking the blanket up to his chin again.
The wagon moved slowly beneath the trees and through the snow, and Merlin knew from the faint glow around them that the sun had begun to rise. He should have been relieved, but all he felt was dread gathering in the pit of his stomach.
He very much doubted it was actually a young man who had gone to Camelot, and he very much doubted he was safe. After everything that had happened in the two days they were snowed in, Merlin wouldn't be surprised if he found his life would never be the same again.
A/N
It has been a while since I've written a chapter this long and emotional, and I think it might be one of my favorites of the story. This very much satisfied my need for hurt/comfort as well as seeing a side of Arthur that is afraid he will lose yet another person he cares for.
This officially concludes the season three arc! Will we see Ralcade again? Will Merlin and his magic be forever changed? Will anyone ever start listening to Archimedes? All of that will be answered, and new questions will appear, as we soon begin the season four arc! We're officially halfway through this story now!
Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave any kind of comment, and I will see you guys soon for the beginning of season four!
