A/N:

No excuses from me so please enjoy the chapter!

Ilandrae

Disclaimer: Nope still don't own Merlin

CHAPTER 38 – TERROR

Camelot

Merlin should have known that his day wasn't going to end well.

It was three weeks since Elyon's daring rescue. Three weeks in which Merlin had fallen into habit. A luxury he hadn't had in a long time.

He'd rise early to attend Excalibur's clearing and give his assistance to those who travelled there to meet him. Despite the extra people (he'd dismissed the rule not to tell anyone about him thus their daily numbers had almost doubled) he still managed to finish in time to catch the end of Art and Mel's morning training with the knights. After a quick walk and sometimes a lesson with the children he'd lunch with Gwen and Mithian—sometimes Isolde too—then render his assistance with anything the Queen required.

He'd have just enough time to check in with either the knights or the druids before his afternoon training session with Mel and Art, which had also stopped being a secret. Sometimes a brave young knight would also attend, eager to learn a new way to fight. But he'd noticed they never came more than twice. Only Bedivere attended somewhat regularly. His evenings he left to himself. Or sometimes a member of the council would come and harass him. Or Art would badger him for more lessons.

But the point was, he grew comfortable. Confident that the wards he'd placed around the land would warn him of any danger long before it arrived.

That morning too, proceeded as normal. He got as far as lunch with Gwen when he felt his wards trip. Or he thought he did. The second they flickered, his warding amulet growing warm against his chest, they were back up and the amulet cool.

Gwen shot him a questioning look when he paused mid bite.

But Merlin just shook his head and smiled. It must have been his imagination because no one could tamper with his wards like that. Other than maybe Isildur. And even the distortion master would struggle to restore them in an instant.

But despite his own reassurances, Merlin did his best to sound unconcerned when he asked, "Did Mel and Art's patrol go on the usual route this morning, or have they finally been upgraded to another as Mel has been complaining to me about?"

Indeed, if the girl complained about the patrol she and Art had been assigned for the month again Merlin felt he might have to badger Gwen himself to change it.

Gwen smiled. "The usual, despite Mel's protests. Leon and Lancelot wanted to run them through a basic patrol one more time before taking them on an overnighter. Though I suspect those two simply just wanted a chance to show her off to Tristan, Isolde and Elyon. She's progressed greatly since she started training."

Merlin smiled. It was Elyon's first patrol back after his return and he was sure Gwen was happy the group was just on a day trip. Not wanting to worry the Queen over something that was probably nothing he tried to push the niggling concern from his mind. The wards were up. They were with knights. It was fine.

"They should be back on the early afternoon." Gwen returned to her document and Merlin continued his day. And his afternoon. Then into his evening.

The patrol had still not returned.

The sun had started to descend in the sky when Gwen and Merlin sought each other out, eventually finding each other outside Art's room. "Still nothing?" Gwen asked when she saw the warlock.

Merlin shook his head. There hadn't even been a mental message from Art. He told Gwen about the wards tripping earlier that day, already cursing his foolishness. He should have gone looking then. Not wasting around the rest of the day.

The Queen bit her lip, face creased with worry. "Let's go."

They knew if they asked for permission no sane knight would let the Queen go chasing after a missing patrol. So, using Merlin's many years of practise they snuck out of the castle through the dungeons and outside the walls. Merlin got an odd feeling of deja vu as they crept past guards, using his magic to distract them and send them chasing after weird objects. He refrained from his usual concussion antics since Gwen frowned after he sent a broom thudding into a guard's head. He supposed they were in finite supply these days.

They made it into the Darkling Woods without detection and found Bedivere waiting for them just as Merlin as asked. The knight didn't even blink when he saw the Queen despite Merlin neglecting to inform him about her company when he asked for horses and supplies.

"They're still not back?" Bed asked Merlin who immediately went to Bay.

"No." The warlock checked his pack, confirming what supplies they had and securing his combat stave to the saddle. His sword stayed strapped securely to his side. He spied Gwen checking her own supplies, worry still etched across her face. But Merlin couldn't blame her. Her only son missing. Not mention the brother she'd just gotten back and all of their friends. Merlin was trying to ignore his own fears that were only growing. They should've started searching earlier, the moment he'd felt his wards trip.

But before his thoughts could spiral much more into guilt and self-punishment Bed mounted his horse, breaking the anxiety filled silence as he spoke. "Then we'd best hurry before someone sends a search party after the Queen."

"Right." Merlin mounted Bay.

They set out at once to retrace the path the patrol would have taken. The Queen took the lead, knowing the way better than the others. She was wearing a light chain mail, unmarked in case they should run into an enemy. It was the first time Merlin had seen the former servant in such a garb since their youth. But it seemed to suit her. Much like the sword at her side matched the fierce anxiety in her eyes. Neither was to be messed with.

Even as they physically searched, eyes searching for any sign of battle or accident, Merlin cast his magic out. He looked for both threats and for Art. He hoped he'd at least be able to sense his apprentice's magic. But he found nothing. He felt nature and the natural magic within it, but intruders? Sorcerers? Art? Nothing. He struggled to batter down the visions that had started to fill his mind as his worries grew with every passing moment.

Two hours into their search they found Leon's horse. Its sightless eyes stared unseeing, spattered with blood from its slashed throat. A further look around the scene showed other signs of battle: discarded weapons, sprays of blood, scorched trees, and rendered earth. One tree in particular looked like it had swollen, morphing rapidly as if to make a shield.

Arts magic.

Gwen had leapt of her horse at the sight of the scene while Merlin stared at the carnage with his heart in his throat. Though it was sign that they were on the right track it did little to alleviate their worries. It only confirmed them.

"There's no bodies." Bedivere seemed to be trying to calm his increasingly fearful companions.

Gwen blinked away tears, looking up at the knight for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"Yes," she said. "You're right. Let's find a sign of where they went."

But Merlin didn't say a word. He sat stock still on his horse, his mind a great contrast to his expressionless demeanour. Inside, his magic was desperately casting far and wide. Trying to find a sign. Any sign. Like a beast inside him his worry was eating away at his resolve. He didn't think he could suffer it again. Losing them all again. And it being his fault. But just like they found no sign in their search of the battle scene, he found nothing.

But with a start he realised he actually sense nothing. There was a place, maybe a short ride up ahead were he felt literally nothing.

No trees, animals, people or natural magic. A dead spot if you will. Then something flickered in that dead spot. Something so pure and strong and connected to Merlin that now up close, he couldn't miss it.

Magic. Art's magic.

He reared Bay around, earning startled shouts from Gwen and Bed who'd been trying to get his attention. But he didn't wait for them before galloping off in the direction where he sensed Art's magic.

He was alive.

The thought consumed him, much like his anxiety had before. The massive dump of relief clouded his mind. So much so that he didn't sense them. Even when he burst into the clearing.

At the sight of Art and his friends looking battered, bruised and weary, Merlin threw himself off Bay and started to rush over, completely missing Art's panicked look and the exhaustion that was pulling at the boy's shoulders.

And completely missing the sorcerer.

"Emrys. It's been far too long."

Merlin froze.

His eyes latched onto Art's who smiled sadly. Over his hammering heart Merlin cursed for not seeing it. His apprentice was standing between the voice and the rest of his party, none of which looked to be in good shape. There was a surge of Psychal magic and Art's knees buckled slightly. He grimaced as he struggled to keep up the mental shield he was maintaining around his companions.

But Merlin barely noticed the magic, even if a part of him was impressed with his apprentice (Psychal magic was not one of Art's strengths). In fact, other than Art's reaction he hadn't seen anything, not even Gwen and Bed arriving behind him. Because Merlin didn't dare look further. The cyclone of emotions he'd felt that day had ended in absolute terror. The terror that consumes. The kind that leaves no room for reason or strategy. Only fear. Only the wish for the fear to go away.

Which was why Merlin didn't dare search for the owner of the voice. Because seeing him meant that he was real. That he was here. That Merlin hadn't escaped him those years ago.

Just the sound of his slick, gleeful voice sent jolts of panic down his spine. His gut broiled and he fought down the bile that threatened to rise in his throat.

And that was only with parts of his memory.

Art was looking back at Merlin with wide eyes. No doubt wondering why his teacher had frozen, probably with stark white fear in his face. The boy was struggling but Merlin just shook his head, it couldn't be real. It couldn't be him. Anything but him.

"Sir?" Bedivere asked from behind, also confused about his master apparently rendered immobile.

The sorcerer chuckled. "Oh...is that what you get people to call you now Emrys. Maybe I rubbed off on you after all. We did have such fun."

Merlin wasn't given much choice when the Black Sorcerer stepped into his view.

A/N:

Seeing as this is an oh so lovely cliff hanger… I promise to update on time.

Thanks

I ;)