He was often plagued by nightmares on moonless nights; countless horrors would lay before him. And Merlin was subject to them all, waking with a start bathed in his sweat. His mother would call those dreams a gift sent by a higher power. But who was he to catch the eyes of gods? Stubbornly, he decided his dreams were just dreams- or nightmares. She was a woman of faith however, always looking out to the skies as she would fetch water from the well.

"One day, an angel will fall from the heavens," she'd tell him, "and they will lead you to your destiny." She spoke it so surely that Merlin never had the heart to say otherwise. Theirs was a simple life and he loved it. Sadly, he never thought his mother felt it was enough. Still, on she went living peacefully for Merlin as he lived for her. One can only imagine how devastated he was finding her beneath the blue sky with a smile on her face, fighting for breath. He ran to her side taking her hand in his, and with tears in his eyes he begged her not to leave him. She looked right through him, her gaze drifting a thousand miles away.

"I believe in his destiny," she rasped. Suddenly, her eyes came into focus just long enough to see him. "Merlin, my Merlin." She sighed her last breath and stilled. 

A few months passed and he continued on. His simple life becoming a bit simpler without his beloved mother. For a short time the dreams stopped. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or if he missed them. However hard he tried they appeared no more, until one day when he went to fetch water from the well. A great rumble could be heard in the distance; a storm brewing despite the skies being bright. He tried desperately to ignore it and threw his bucket into the well. The waters rippled and slowly, Merlin felt heavier with each slight wave. He wanted to turn his gaze but his efforts were for naught, for when the water stilled he saw a reflection; a face, though it was not his own. It was a girl dusted in dirt from a hard day's labour. She looked so unhappy, so alone that Merlin felt an instant connection. 

"I believe in his destiny," he heard his mother say clear as if she stood beside him. He startled and fell onto his rear, crashing hard on a stony bank. He stood at a lake where fog swirled all about. The air was cool and he could smell the bark of the elder trees riding on the wind. Blue light shone from across the banks, and the silhouette of three shapely women could be made out. Vines tangled about them and flower petals adorned and crowned their fine hair. Merlin breathed hard wondering where his home had gone.

"We call to you." They spoke as one.

"Me?" He sucked in a breath, crawling backwards with narrowed eyes.

"Step forward, Merlin, upon the lake." He shook his head in a furious protest. "The Goddess commands it of you." At this Merlin's eyebrows raised up high. The Goddess was an old way of life slowly fading from existence. Most people taken to worshipping a new deity who'd an entire book people would refer to when feeling lost. As if sensing his hesitation the fog dissipated and the light dimmed. His face flushed at their sky-clad forms. The three were beauties indeed; all pale, their smooth alabaster skin reflected off the water in reminiscence of the moon. They held their arms outstretched in a welcoming manner towards Merlin and spoke once more. "Approach." Merlin gulped and stood, inching forward. With a slight frown he stepped lightly and to his surprise did not sink. He gaped at the rippling waves beneath his feet.

"Who are you?" He found his voice once the shock diminished. 

"We three are remnants of old." Merlin noted their lips were shut tight, only their voices echoed in his mind. He did not react knowing there were stranger things to come. "High priestesses of an abandoned life. The Goddess who birthed all into creation has now charged us to guide you, Merlin."

"To what?"

"Destiny." 

"I believe in his destiny." He heard his mother's voice echo again. Below him he could see her smiling face rippling in the water. Looking straight at the women, all the confidence in him he could not see the day she died beamed through. Her final moments were spent assuring the women that she believed in her Merlin.

"What is this?" He could barely choke out, fearful speaking any louder would summon all the tears living in him. 

"The water will show you what it is you must do. Peer into the eyes of the world. Accept the gift the Goddess has given-- accept the task she charges you with. From here, there will be no returning to your old life for it will be changed forever." Merlin had always been an awkward boy, never kept faith with any religion like his mother. But she'd faith in more than just that, she had faith in him. Perhaps it was time he believed in himself as well. With all the nobility a farm-boy could muster, he stood taller and looked into the water. 

"I accept."

"Do not fear, the Goddess, or God. They are all the same, leading to the source of which we sprung. Watch through the eyes of the world for it will lead you to destiny." Many things flashed before him in the lake, the most prominent was the colour red; red flags flapping majestically in the wind, red skies signalling a bad omen, and a pool of red. He fought the urge to look away knowing the vision was far from over. The clanging of swords came and sparked as they collided. A court filled with finely dressed and overly powdered aristocrats drinking merrily. He saw knights in armour straight out of a fairy-tale. Then there was a sister outside an abbey looking so melancholic that he thought his own heart would break from the sight of her. She'd tears in her eyes as she looked out to a hidden scenery. There was a woman as fiery as her red hair. And finally, he saw her. The girl from the well.. so sad and so lonely he wanted to comfort her. "The path is shown, travel to the village of MerryVale. Though know you will find no welcome there." He nodded, almost feeling excited. 

"I, Morgase, agree to Merlin undertaking this task." Merlin looked to the one with the golden head, feeling as if she spoke. Then the one with flaming hair responded with:

"I, Viviane, agree to Merlin undertaking this task." He looked to the one with raven hair whose stare unnerved him more than the rest. She'd stern eyes and even though they were hooded, he could sense an emotion laced beneath; a flash of recognition.

"I, Morgaine, accept Merlin undertaking this task," spoke she.

"Then by the blessing of the Goddess, go forth and do as she bids." He shot up at the sound of thunder rolling in the distance, breathing hard and sweating profusely. Using the edge of the well to prop himself up off the grass, Merlin smirked.

To MerryVale, he thought. With that in mind he ran back, preparing only the essentials.

Once upon a time, MerryVale had been true to it's name. A quaint farming village surrounded by great mountains with a fresh source of water in the form of a lake not so far off fed into the rich soil, allowing the village to self-sustain. Not a single person went hungry even during winter as they always had enough rations to last. There were many travellers passing too, seeking to trade goods for a bed to rest in before taking the major road to Camelot. Those were happier times and Cara recalled them every time she felt things became too difficult. She and her mother would tend to their own patch of land, sometimes offering to help old lady Agnes not one house down with her own land, if time permitted. And every so often her father would ride his merchant caravan home, sharing his accumulated wealth and buying them softer linen to make new gowns. 

Things changed for the worst when the kingdoms of Orkney and Angsley started warring with each other. With Camelot playing mediator to the two kingdoms and little care for the outlying villages, who then would protect the lands from the barbaric Saxons? Certainly no one came to save MerryVale the night they were overrun. The Saxons came in the night swarming like a plague. They beat the villagers, imprisoned them, sold them like cattle. Cara remembered her mother being dragged out by her hair screaming for someone to save them. In her anger, Cara jumped on her mother's assailant, biting, scratching, hitting wherever she could to free her. Finally he let her go, and threw Cara to the ground when he had enough. All Cara could do was defiantly glare up at him as he drew his axe, daring him to do it. Just before he could swing down at her a woman's voice cut through the chaos, and they all turned back to see a great beast of a woman marching towards them. 

"This one has spirit, Archibald," she laughed. "She's mine now." 

"But Unna-"

"I'll hear no more of it. The girl is mine." She then grabbed Cara by the arm, dragging her away from her mother. All they could do was stare as the distance between them grew larger. From then on Cara served Unna, doing everything at her beck and call. In return Unna taught her many things, and the men never touched or harassed her in any way. She liked to think her mother was sold to someone kind but deep in her heart she knew she was killed that night, along with many others. 

It was a particularly dreary morning Cara went to fetch water from the lake, Unna was in a foul mood and needed fresh water to wash. Not wishing to get a beating she rushed off to fetch it, passing by the new catches being held in kennels made for hounds. There was one catch who was especially noisy, always trying to get her attention as she passed. Though she didn't know what she'd be able to do for him, lest Unna's wrath fell on them both. 

"Hey, hey, hey!" The boy called to her, trying to reach through the bars. She merely rolled her eyes and sighed, ignoring him as usual. She went to the lake, filled her bucket and headed back to Unna's hut. 

"Get me fresh cloth, and take the dirty ones." Unna ordered, while sitting up groggily.

"Of course," Cara bowed her head, grabbing the overfilled basket on her way out. Again, she walked passed the boy, setting the basket near his kennel, and grabbing fresh cloth for her mistress. She delivered it and Unna began scrubbing herself down.  When she got back, most of the dirty cloths had been pulled into the boy's kennel. He grinned mischievously towards her when she sighed. "Give them back." 

"Not until you talk to me," he bargained. 

"Listen, I can't do anything for you. I'm every bit a prisoner here as you are." 

"Yet you're not locked in a tiny cage, are you?" He argued, ignoring her when she tried to explain her situation. The Saxons were good at tracking, even if she ran they'd chase her down. Especially if Unna commanded it, and she most certainly would. Who would risk allowing someone to run straight to Camelot to petition their help in driving them out? "Just hear me out at least?" She nodded, winning another grin from the earnest boy. She supposed the least she could do was humour him. "My name is Merlin, and I was sent here to find you-- my destiny." She stared blankly at him for a moment, before reaching for the cloths in his possession. 

"You're mad. Give them here." She held tight to one end as he held tight to the other, and soon they were tugging with all their might to win the cloth back. The pulling was vicious like a fight for their life, and bit-by-bit the cloth tore in two sending them both back with a hard thud. Cara groaned as a dull pain rang throughout her bottom, and through her squinting eyes she saw Merlin standing tall before her. His hand reached down to offer help, but the only thing that ran through her mind was how he'd managed to get out of his cage. She ignored his help, only finding they were not in MerryVale anymore. Her arms and legs tingled with newly forming goosebumps. Plain as day, there were waves lapping on stony banks accompanied by the rustling of ancient trees. She stared out into the foreign land, but it was so familiar to her; a place she'd been once before, or maybe a place she was meant to go? Cara stepped forward towards the great lake, entombed by those mighty trees. She could move no more, her eyes filled with tears from holding them open too long; relief coming only when she remembered to blink.

"Are you okay?" Merlin cautiously approached. Whether Merlin allowed it or not, Cara leveraged herself on him to keep her from fainting. Merlin led her slowly until they reached the banks of the great loch. The dark waters brought a coolness to the wind and from the water itself came the whispers of one-thousand voices. Pictures reflected upon the water; sceneries and faces. Merlin wasted little time pulling her onto the water until they got closer to three women cloaked in shadow.

"What is this?" Cara finally managed, the shock wore off and panic was quick to take its place. She tried to wrench herself free from Merlin's grasp, hoping to put as much distance as she could between her and the women who hovered above the black water in a ghostly manner. 

"Sorry," he said plainly looking towards the women who held Cara's gaze. Seeing no escape she yielded to what she assumed would be the final moments of her meaningless life. She looked them in the eyes with her chin slightly raised, mustering all her courage.

"Hold firm that bravery, Cara of MerryVale. It will birth legends for centuries to come. We are Sisters Three-- not bound by blood but by spirit. By the grace of the Goddess we are all here, summoned for a shared task." Cara looked to Merlin who only offered a solemn nod. "O' brave one you've a great task placed on you, no greater than Merlin's. Men and women alike perish, and the land thrown into chaos for meaningless squabbles. The Goddess and God are one in the same, different faces of one entity. We all come from the source, and to the source we must all return.. but that does not mean life must be full of pain. You must help unite the land for the one who will succeed you; the one who will lead all the world into a golden age."

"I fear I cannot help you," Cara shook her head. She was no one with nothing to her name; a coward who served the woman who slaughtered her mother and village. She would never be a catalyst in any great story. 

"Sweet girl," their voices were tender and loving. "Find your bravery. You are not alone, nor have you ever been." Cara couldn't help but look over to Merlin whose gaze never left her. Something about him was comforting, and behind the tenacity was a familiarity; a kinship. 

"I can't leave MerryVale. Unna-- she'll kill both of us before we get any sort of chance to.. unite the land." She spoke cautiously as if speaking the words would make them come true. 

"Do not despair," they began to drift away. "Courage and wisdom will find a way." Merlin and Cara began to sink into the lake, and in their panic tried to make it to shore only to be drowned in visions of red.

"Cara! Cara!" Unna's right-hand man, Archibald, shook her back to her senses. "Unna's been calling you and here you've been lazing about?" He yanked her onto her feet before she could protest, and dragged her off. Neither she nor Merlin spoke a word about what happened all day. She kept on with her chores making sure to avoid him in case any trouble showed up. 

When night came, she stuck herself in the kitchen and peeled as many potatoes as the others needed to feed the entirety of Unna's men-- not to mention the woman herself. The girls in the kitchen often gossiped about how they swore she turned into a bear at night, always asking Cara if she saw anything suspicious that would strengthen the rumour. Of course she saw nothing of the like, though she wondered sometimes if that was the reason she was grouchy every morning, her prowling around at night as a bear would contribute to her lack of rest. 

"Let's roll in another barrel of ale!" Archibald thundered in drunk as ever. "We've opened the pits today with our catches." He laughed, watching the girls grimace. Any men they caught wandering about who didn't seem to have the capacity to hold a sword were thrown in the pits for entertainment. The winners would walk free with their lives if Unna allowed it-- she rarely did. With a slight look over her shoulder, Cara's gaze was avoided and they all just went back to cooking. "Hurry it up, we're thirsty!" Archibald called from ahead. She rolled the barrel outside and was instantly met with the drunken shouts of the men jeering those in the pits. 

"Fight already!" One shouted, pushing a scrawny looking man back in the circle the men formed. He was clearly under fed and scared, Cara felt so sad when she saw him shake. The other man looked desperate, unfortunately it was his kind that always gave Unna and her men what they wanted. He'd do anything for freedom, that much was clear by the way he reached down for the spear someone had thrown in for them. Cara set the barrel closest to where Unna sat flanked by Archibald and another man. She filled each of their cups, ignoring the laughing taking place as the two fought. Every now and then Unna would grunt in approval as she watched the match. Soon, the winner was dragged before her all bloodied and bruised and close to tears, kneeling as he begged for his life. 

"My good man, you've already won it." Unna chuckled, her large belly jumping with every shake. The others joined in her laughter but Cara could only frown as the man sighed in what would only be momentary relief. Unna signalled for him to stand which he could barely do on his own, but he managed somehow. "You now have a choice, since you've proven yourself so capable. Join me and mine, or die a free man." 

"What?" He gasped, nearly doubling over in a panic. "P-please! I have a wife-- children! They'll die without me!" Unna merely nodded, signalling Archibald forward. 

"Run to your family," he smiled. And the man ran as fast as his weak form could take him. "Let's see how far you get." Archibald snatched a bow and arrow from one of their underlings who fetched it for him. He drew the string back, and with the arrow aligned he held for a breath. The arrow whizzed by, instantly shooting into the back of the man's neck. He struggled for breath as he fell face first into the dirt but no relief came, and instead his pained gurgles slowly silenced. Everyone laughed once more, excitedly calling for one more match."We've only one more prisoner now," Archibald sounded almost deflated.

"Then you fight him, but we will have one more." Unna waved him away. "Cara, you will watch. Maybe you'll learn a thing or two from Archibald." 

"Of course," she bowed her head, standing at her side. She paled when seeing Merlin dragged out by the collar of his tunic. In all the chaos of the night she'd nearly forgotten the strange boy. Something curious happened then, through the confusion of the crowd Merlin found and held her gaze. It was an automatic reaction; a magnetic pull not allowing them to go unnoticed by each other. Cara hadn't realized she'd stepped forward until Unna grabbed her arm firmly. 

"Where do you think you're going?" 

"I.." Cara gaped, looking frantically between Unna and Merlin. He'd already been thrown into the ring, but he seemed much more relaxed than the other two. 

"You're a confident one, ain't you, boy?" Archibald teased, giving his broad sword a spin in his hand. Merlin reached down for another sword thrown his way, touching the obviously blunted blade he could barely lift. The others laughed as the tension raised around them. Archibald swung hard and fast towards Merlin, who instantly abandoned his sword in favour of avoiding any blows. Cara could feel herself starting to sweat as she watched helplessly. No matter how fast Merlin proved to be Archibald was faster, he was trained in swordplay since before Merlin could walk, no doubt. 

You are not alone, she heard whispering in her ears, nor have you ever been. Merlin cried out as Archibald's sword connected with his arm. He clenched at the wound, clearly slowing as he dodged another swing. 

"I want him," Cara whispered.

"Speak up, girl." Unna yanked her closer. 

"I claim him-- I claim that boy. He's mine." She spoke more firmly, tearing her arm away. She stalked up towards the crowd, ignoring Unna following close behind her. They all made way as she began to shove through to the inner circle. "Move!" She yelled, finally reaching Merlin and dragging him back to her side. She turned to face Unna who glared on at her display. "He's mine!" She said louder for all to hear.

"You can't," Archibald scowled. "You ain't one of us!" Everyone around them agreed, cursing at Cara for interrupting their entertainment. "I'm sick of this girl walking about as if she's owed anything. Unna, allow me to rid you of this headache." 

"The girl is mine," Unna glared. "This is the reason I kept her in the first place. She's got a fire in her that matches anyone of us." She turned to Cara, looking between her and Merlin. "You want him so bad? She pulled a sword free from one of her men's belts, holding the hilt out for her to take. "Prove yourself. I've taught you how to use it, lets see how much you've learned." Cara reached for the sword without hesitation, glaring all the while.

"No!" Merlin yanked her back. "If you die, all of this would be for nothing." 

"So our only option was me watching you get slaughtered?" Cara huffed. She grabbed the sword and shook her head. "I should've died years ago with my people." Unna smiled, almost looking proudly upon her. Archibald was signalled forward and soon they faced each other, years of tension all led up to that moment. Both of them wanting the other dead. The ring widened and Unna dragged Merlin back to watch the fight ensue. 

"You know the rules. Whoever isn't dead by the end of this is the winner." With a nod, the match begun and both opponents began to circle each other. Cara wasn't confident in her abilities even if she had sword training for a few years, it was nothing compared to Archibald. She knew she would die that night, but at least she would be able to go out fighting the man who'd taken her mother. She lifted her sword high and screamed as she swung, the vision of her mother being dragged out from their home flashed before her; it was so vivid, so fresh, as if she was reliving it. Their swords collided and sparks flew as the blades slid down against each other. They were face to face then, pushing against one another in show of brute force. But Cara was smaller than Archibald, and proved to be no match. She was thrown back, sliding a few inches before she was forced to roll out of the way from another blow. Archibald howled to the moon, taking his time to walk back to her in a show of dominance. The crowd cheered for him, and others howled alongside him. He pointed his sword in her direction as if promising she'd get it soon enough. Cara huffed and defiantly raised her blade once more, the adrenaline in her forcing away any fear she felt. She wanted him dead-- him and Unna, and every stinking man that ever dared to come to MerryVale. She ran towards him again, but he expertly ducked beneath the sword, twirling to hit her with the hilt of his own. She fell again and felt her blade glide away with a kick from Archibald. He kicked again, this time aiming for her stomach. She grunted and gasped for breath as he kicked again in succession, dirt flying into her face and mouth. She looked up through the pain to see Unna watching with a frown, Merlin was nowhere to be seen. 

Good, Cara thought, at least one of us will make it out of here. Another kick came, but she was prepared and rolled over onto her hands and knees. The pain was too great then to even try to stand at that moment. Archibald walked around so that she was kneeling before him. He stomped down on her hand, and she knew instantly her fingers were broken. She cried out, looking up towards him in anger; her hatred the only thing she could arm herself with then. 

"Don't worry," Archibald spat. "You'll join your mother soon enough." He raised his blade high, aiming right for her skull. Cara had no doubt he'd dream of this night for the rest of his life. To her surprise it was not her blood that spilled, but Archibald's. He grunted loudly, sword falling from his hands as a blade pierced through his back and the end pointed out his chest. He fell to his knees and Unna stood behind, pulling out her own weapon. Her men started whispering about themselves as she grabbed Cara off the ground and pulled her quickly to her hut. 

"You are mine," Unna claimed in a silent fury.  The men behind her formed around Archibald who declared Unna a traitor with his last breath. They were both unsafe then, the men would turn on them soon enough. They ran to the hut and Unna barricaded the door behind them. "Take this," she threw a sheathed dagger into Cara's lap, and placed her head against the door to listen for their coming. "I don't care what anyone says," Unna explained. "They will not have you." 

"Why're you doing this?" Cara asked in disbelief. With a slight look over her shoulder, Unna revealed so much with her expression. There was a softness in her gaze Cara had never seen before; a lovingness that made her want to cry for it reminded her of her mother. 

"You are the child I could never have." Unna whispered. Suddenly Cara shook and bitterness took hold of her. She looked down at the dagger in her hand and slowly unsheathed it, her reflection glinted back. All she could think then was how much she hated everything; she hated Archibald for killing her mother, the men outside for making her a prisoner in her own home, her father for never coming back for her, and Unna.. She, who'd taken everything from her to begin with. Even the revenge on Archibald she craved so badly or the quick death she was offered; the release. She moved behind Unna and brought down the dagger, stabbing her countless times and screaming all the while. Unna fought for a time, but with each blow she became weaker and weaker. Her own blood coating her hands, making them too slick to try and grip the dagger away from Cara's hands. Soon enough, she stilled; blank eyes stared above to the ceiling. Cara already had a mother, and Unna stole her away. Her trance was broken when she heard screaming from outside the hut, seeing no way out she exited hoping to meet her destiny with bravery. Instead, she found MerryVale in flames and the women they kept were running and screaming for their lives alongside some of Unna's former men. Other's were fumbling over themselves trying to retrieve enough water to put out the fire. Cara jumped when out from the shadows came Merlin, grabbing at her arm. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, seemingly shocked from all the blood clinging to her. He held onto both her shoulders, staring her straight in the eyes. She merely nodded, looking back to her burning home. Nothing would ever be the same, though she knew that long ago. 

"We have to go," she managed. Agreeing, Merlin took hold of her hand and pulled her towards the forest. 

They travelled nonstop until they were certain they'd be pursued no more. In that time very little was spoken between the two; where would they even begin? So much happened and so little made sense. The silence was simpler and both had a lot to contemplate. They'd no clue where they were headed either but they had to figure something out soon for they were want for food and water, and not two copper pieces between them. 

"Cara," Merlin approached her one night, taking the initiative he knew she wouldn't. The only thing he understood about her was that she was as stubborn as a mule. "Can we talk?" He watched her struggle to light a fire, hand yet broken from fighting and stained with blood. She nodded, continuing on with her attempt. "What happened back there?" He asked, "what happened to you?" 

"What happened to you?" She abandoned her flint. "Why did you come back? You could've easily left." 

"Come back? I was there the whole time. Well, I snuck away when you and that man--"

"Archibald."

"When you and Archibald were fighting. I wanted to create a diversion so we could escape." He picked up the flint and started the fire in one try. She looked confused for a moment, eyes widening as if everything clicked. 

"You started the fire," she realized. Merlin gave a proud smile, explaining how he tried to find her in all the confusion even running back to the kitchens hoping she'd taken refuge there. All he found were the kitchen girls so he told them to run. When he'd gone back out to continue his search there she was.

"What happened?" He asked again. Cara looked down, suddenly appearing tired.

"I--" Her voice was drowned out by a screeching wail unlike anything they'd ever heard before. It was so loud and shrill they felt their ears were threatening to burst. Merlin fell to his knees screaming as he covered his ears as best he could. He looked up at Cara who signalled weakly for them to run, both struggled against the pain reverberating through their skulls, stumbling forward to escape. The wailing continued on for what felt like forever until they could see the moonlight pierce through the shadows of the trees. The scream gave enough for them to reach the edge of the forest where they ran out to the beach of a vast ocean; large pillars of rock rose high in the distance. The wails dispersed when they found refuge near the water. Merlin huffed and laid there, tired and confused. "What was that?" Cara finally sat up. Merlin could only shake his head knowing they were both in desperate need of rest. Not wanting to risk the looming danger of the forest, they got as comfortable on the beach as they could. Sleep claimed them instantly and beneath the open sky Merlin dreamed of the path they travelled: through the great forest and straight to the sea where mountains rose like towers ever-vigilant. A kindly king and a sorrowful queen were shown.. a rift between two communities.

They woke at midday from the salty ocean breeze. Both were sore, starving, and tired. 

"What do you reckon we do now?" Cara croaked, scratching at her matted hair. He imagined he looked a right-mess as well but that didn't matter. They were where they needed to be that much he knew, all they'd to do was figure out what needed to be done. Though that explanation didn't seem to satisfy Cara who scrunched her nose in dasitisfaction. "Hopefully food falls somewhere in this destiny business," she stood with a groan, holding out her good hand to help Merlin to his feet. "I'm sure we can find something around here." 

"Let's avoid the forest for now." It wasn't long before they came across a hut by a raggedy harbour, and an old man who sat tending row boats tied with thick rope. He'd a large hat that shaded him from the harsh sun, smoking his pipe lazily looking out at the horizon where there was nothing to see but the towering mountains and endless sea. The man exhaled smoke, turning when realizing he'd company. 

"I'm Merlin," he introduced, and his companion begrudingly followed.  

"Cara."

"Adney. What brings ye' out here?" 

"We were wondering if you'd any food?" Merlin asked sheepishly. Adney looked them up and down critically until his gaze softened.

"I might have somethin' extra." He waved them to the hut. They followed, pride all but abandoned; it was better than starving to death. He sat them down at his table, serving them bowls of fish stew and bread, pouring them a tall mug of fresh water he kept in a basin. They offered thanks through mouthfuls of food, Merlin nearly cried as he ate. He'd been locked away in a kennel for close to a week before he managed to grab Cara's attention. Having gone much longer without a proper meal, none could really blame him. The kindly old man chuckled while watching them shove spoonfuls in their already full mouths. "Don't forget to breathe," he reminded. When they finished he suggested Cara cleaned in the sea. "I'd offer a bowl of water but I don't think it'd help as much. Just don't go too far out." They held each other's gaze for a moment before she did just that, patting Merlin on the shoulder as if to say she'd return soon. 

"I really can't thank you enough. I don't know what we'd do if you refused us." 

"Just what happened to the pair o' ye'?" Adney smoked from his pipe. Merlin  did'nt know where to begin, or if even attempting to tell their story was a good idea. Luckily for him, Adney didn't press the issue. "I'm afraid ye' won't find much peace out 'ere. Dark times." 

"Why's that?"

"If it's gossip yer' lookin' fer, there's a town down along the shore," he pointed. "Women like findin' themselves any reason to talk." Merlin nodded and walked out to find Cara as still as a statue. He called to her breaking whatever trance she'd fallen under

"Do I look better?" She asked showing no sign of blood. Merlin nodded in approval then explained their next destination. On they walked along the beach until they finally reached it. The town was bustling with women and men doing chores while holding leisurely conversations. Stalls hung fresh fish on lines and setup oats and various other edibles, and women sported bandanas while balancing children and baskets filled with what was most likely more fish. Merlin silently prayed their clothes wouldn't be permeatted by the awful smell.

"Wonder if they have a tavern?"

"Didn't know you were a drinker," Cara replied in amusement. He continued forward looking for such a place until they stumbled on The Selkies Skin tavern and inn. There's was a town made for drinking-people and spirits seemed to raise spirits. Their noses immediately stung from the harsh smell of alcohol and bile as they made their way towards the barkeep whose bulbed nose seemed irritated from who-knew-what, and his grey hair was slicked back in fish oil. He smiled warmly noticing their approach.

"What can I get you, youngin's?" He moved away dirtied flagons as they took their seats.

"What do you have?" Cara looked behind the bar, earning a disapproving look from Merlin. "I mean, just information if you have any." The man laughed flashing his decaying teeth; their was a glint of gold near the back of his mouth.

"Stories is it? Aye, ye'll be wantin' to talk to me wife. Norah! Get your arse over here!" They both flinched, though nobody else in the tavern seemed to mind, they were just as loud in their conversations; laughing and drinking merrily. A plump lady came waddling from behind curtains leading to the back. She wore a thick layer of red on her frog lips and her apron was stained brown.

"Aye what is it, ye' good for nothing lout?" 

"People 'ere willing to listen to ye' spout yer nonsense." 

"Lets take a walk then shall we, children?" They followed silently through the back. "So what will it be?" She practically sang in a giddy tone. It seemed like gossiping was the highlight of her day. Cara looked to Merlin uncertainly though he was just as lost

"The forest.. Something strange happened to us last night." Norah's face turned solemn at it's mention.

"Aye, we avoid it now." She hummed in thought for a bit, snapping her fingers as a thought came to her. "Well, it wasn't me who saws it, but my good ol' cousin Tabitha, she lives right near ol' man Eloen," she pointed vaguely somewhere in the town, "met a bard just yesterday. Said somethin' or other about learning his song from a fairy! Tabitha swears his singin' brought her to tears!" 

"Sorry, what does that have to do with the forest?" Cara seemed unimpressed with the information. 

"Says he met the fairy in the forest, made it safely through."  

"Thank-you. Do you know where we'd find him?" The woman pointed a ways-away from the town straight on to the beach. They wandered on for a time until they came upon him strumming tunelessly on his lute as he sat idly on a log. "Are you the bard we seek?" Merlin called to him. The man jumped, gripping his lute when turning to face them.

"I am a bard. Though the one you seek, I do not know," he stood before dipping into a deep bow. "I am Carolan." 

"Are there any other bards who claimed to have met fairies?" Cara crossed her arms, forgoing any courtesy. 

"It was just the one…I've been travelling to find inspiration for my songs. I came across an old traveller who once claimed to have met a being unlike any other--a fairy king. When I came to the forest I'd been lost and wandering for days, I was weak and on what I thought was my death-bed.. I fell asleep but I heard the wind carry a song, mourning of a lost home; a lost love- or life." Carolan mused and his eyes glistened at the thought. "When I woke I felt better than ever. Since then I've acquired a sort of magick some say only the fabled fairy king is said to have. Though very weak I can enchant people with songs that just.. come to me."

"Perhaps a demonstration is called for?" Merlin suggested, intrigued. Carolan nodded wielding his lute and cleared his throat as he plucked a few strings in practice.

"Then listen, as I shall sing of the great fairy king!
Hail to Finvarra, The Great Fairy king!
Listen for him cometh, listen for him sing!
Revel in his glory, revel in his light,
Let him spirit you away, on an effulgent moon-full night.
Hail to Finvarra, O' majestic fabled king!
We will listen for you cometh, listen for you sing!"  He looked up at them expectantly, clutching his lute. For a moment they said nothing until Merlin nodded in reverence. Even Cara managed to smile at the bard. As soon as he strummed the first chord they felt something invigorating course through their veins. It was certainly the work of magick, something inside Merlin affirmed it.

"It's strange, I feel as if we were meant to meet you," Cara put a hand to her stomach. 

"I feel the same," Merlin agreed. "It's difficult to explain, Carolan. We're on a quest and it led to you." 

"It is strange.. That name-- Finvarra, where did it come from? I'm sorry I can't be of more help." Carolan looked down shyly. His personality only seemed to shine when he sung.

"Maybe we're supposed to help you?" Cara offered. "What are your intentions now?"

"I'd very much like to meet the fairy who gifted this power." They looked to one another, understanding he meant to venture into the forest. The problem was neither of the two seemed willing to set foot there again, but what else were they meant to do? Merlin was set on seeing everything through, he abandoned his home, and Cara-- poor Cara had nowhere else to go. A steely determination took root in both of them; an unseen thread binding them to the same path. They nodded agreeing to help in Carolan's endeavour. The bard seemed to deflate as he let out the breath they hadn't realized he was holding, a grateful smile set across his round face. "Thank-you!" At Cara's urging they walked towards Adney's hut, feeling he knew more than he initially let on. They found him staring out to sea once more. 

"Found what ye' were lookin' fer?"

"The forest," Cara spoke curtly. "Last night something attacked me and Merlin. And Carolan.. Well, tell us what you know. What's out there?"

"Most folks don't speak of it, think it'll bring bad luck." He pointed towards the mountains far out at sea with his pipe. "Ever heard of the sidhe?" They shook their heads, not daring to speak. "Fairies of a different sort.. They're ruled by the sidhe King, Finvarra." They looked to Carolan who'd just sung about the fabled king. Merlin felt excited knowing they were close to whatever they needed to find.

"So it's Finavarra in the forest?" 

"No, King Finvarra would never abandon his own to torment people in some forest. Look there, ye' can almost see it. The great palace." He pointed out to where his eyes always wandered. Sure enough on the horizon, a small glint caught by the sun.. Merlin wondered if it truly was the court of Finvarra. "He torments us from the sea not the forest. The women are spirited away." His eyes cast over Cara, "some people say its cause his queen's gone a-missing and he thinks we stole her.."

"How do you know all this?" Her eyes narrowed. "How does that explain anything about the forest?" 

"It don't." Was all he replied with. "Yer all welcome to stay here for the night, the only thing I ask is ye' don't be here come the morn'. Better to escape this cursed place while ye' can." Night descended and they all huddled in his hut. The sound of the lapping sea water was enough to make them want to fall asleep and never get up again.

"Do you think the fairy you heard singing was the sidhe-queen, Coralan?' Merlin's arms rested behind his head as she gazed up at the ceiling. Carolan softly strummed his lute before replying.

"I can't think of who else it could be. Why is she so far from home?" They both paused when seeing Cara peer out the window to look for the old man. He went for a walk a while ago and had yet to return. "What's wrong?"  

"I don't trust him," she spoke softly. "Something about him gave me a funny feeling. Why didn't he answer my questions?" Merlin waved her away, feeling she was being too conspiratorial. He was kind enough to give them food, water, and shelter. There was no reason to suspect him of anything what-so-ever. "I'm telling you, he's hiding something." She stood and walked out.

"Cara-" Merlin made no attempt to follow, thinking it was better for her to have alone time. They sat in silence a moment before he continued, "do you think we should take a walk as well?" Without waiting for an answer he stood, Carolan followed close behind. They headed directly for the forest stopping just at the trees that marked the border. So many questions ran through his mind: How was the sidhe separated from her people? Why wasn't Carolan attacked? How did this fit in with their quest? "Shall we go in?" 

"Without Cara?" Carolan stepped back, holding his lute close to his chest. Merlin could see her in the distance talking with Adney farther down the beach. It was safer if she didn't come and he reckoned a quick peek wouldn't do any harm. "Lead on," Carolan sounded defeated. Merlin gave him a good-natured slap on the arm on stepped into the woods. Once passed the border Merlin felt something different in the air and from the look on Carolan's face, he knew he felt it too. Their was life ringing all about them; creatures of all sorts that roamed the forest made their call. They walked on for a time filling their silence with idle chatter, getting to know each other well. Merlin found he and Carolan had more in common than he knew. He came from a small outlying village in Orkney, leading a simple life with his father and two sisters. But Carolan felt as though he was meant for much more than he was given so he set out to find an adventure made especially for him. Despite his docile nature, Carolan found his way to that exact forest. Though Merlin couldn't truly explain his connection to Cara he tried his best, even if he sounded crazy. He knew Carolan was kind and true of heart, perhaps that's why even the creature in the forest that sought to harm him and Cara took pity Carolan. 

"Nothing is happening, maybe we should try calling out?" Merlin suggested. Though not looking fully convinced, the bard agreed. 

"Queen of the sidhe! I implore you, show yourself!" Carolan looked around eagerly for her arrival. Something in the air shifted, the earth around them darkened, and a thick mist shrouded their vision. What was it about mist that made everything so unnerving? In the distance Merlin could hear that painfully familiar sound: An ear piercing wail, mournful and soulless; distant, cold, and devoid of all hope. They had to find a way to appease the sidhe. Merlin squinted, looking through the mist and trees in hopes of catching a glimpse of the harrowed fairy. With a grimace he reached for Carolan to wrench his hands away from his ears.

"You have to sing!" He could barely hear his own voice. "Sing, Carolan!"

"O' Onagh the fair, who weeps on this night,
Tell me you sorrow, speak me your plight.
O' Onagh, sweet fairy queen! Stop your weeping,
Free yourself of burden keeping.
Hear the ocean, your home now,
O' Onagh, look out in the distance, there your castle gleam!" Each note came clear and strong, breaking through the screeches. As time passed the wails lessened until all was still for the longest of moments.

"I am Onagh, queen sidhe weeping,

Within this heart, grievance seeding." The wind carried her reply, voice shaking from the sorrow she yet felt. They followed her call into deeper shadow coming upon her in sparse wood. There Queen Onagh stood, golden hair swept at her feet. She was robed in a silver gossamer that glittered with dew rivalling the sparkle of diamonds. She glided towards them with grace and regality unattainable by any human. Her eyes were a soft blue, reddened only by the tears they drowned in. 

"Queen Onagh," Carolan stepped forward. "What is your sorrow?" Upon seeing him she seemed to relax. She reached out and cradled his face in both her hands, smiling through her tears. 

"I envy you," she managed to say. "Saving you was selfish; spiteful. I should've let you die." The words would have been hateful and venomous were it not for the tenderness in which she spoke them. "You would have been met with eternal paradise of mirth and love. Where us sidhe will never know the fruits of heaven. My people are damned; I am damned. Inconsolable. Nothing could be said as my woe overtook me. So here I wander, wailing for a loss that was never mine to lose."

"But.. why did you attack me and Cara?"

"And why save me?" Carolan added, stepping back from her. A tear rolled down her rosy cheek and she turned her face as if she ashamed of her actions. "How odd it is that a queen such as you should be envious of us." Perhaps there was wisdom in the words the grass is always greener..

"I only meant to free you of your burdens," she offered Merlin, gaze planted to the floor. "And you, Carolan. When I came upon you.. I felt such purity from you. I thought, 'if this boy should live, perhaps I would be closer to paradise.' I knew of your talent when I saw your instrument, and so I gave you a bit of mine."

"Be that as it may, King Finvarra has been mourning your disappearance." Merlin pieced everything together. When Onagh left so suddenly, in his own sorrow Finvarra must have sought anyone to blame. The closest he could direct his sorrow to were the people from the town. Suddenly, a piercing scream could be heard coming from the direction they came. Merlin had a sinking feeling knowing instantly Cara was in trouble.

"My king.." Onagh wiped her tears, following the sound towards the sea. "My king and kith need me. Tell me, what has he done?" They all took off towards the beach, both Carolan and Merlin regaled what they learned from Adney. Finally reaching the bordering wood, Merlin sprinted ahead and called out for Cara. His eyes scoured the beach desperately only seeing Adney smoking his pipe. Merlin grabbed him by the collar. 

"Where is she?" Adney simply looked out to the sea, eyes resting on the rock formation.

"She's been taken," Onagh came with Carolan in tow. "To what end I do not know." Adney's eyes widened at the sight of her and he stiffened in Merlin's grasp. His mouth opened and closed as if he was attempting to speak until finally he managed.

"He promised to grant me life in his kingdom-- eternal life he said!" He then threw himself at Onagh's feet, speaking incoherently through his sob's. All Merlin could make of it was that Adney hated his life. 

"I must make right my wrongs," Onagh kneeled, petting back what was left of Adney's hair. "As should you. Take us to Finvarra's court." The old man nodded, grabbing his oars before helping Onagh board the ship. Merlin picked up extra oars as well before hopping in alongside Carolan. Adney pushed the boat off the harbour and soon both he and Merlin began rowing in sync. Long would be the way to Finvarra's court and all Merlin hoped was that Cara would be safe

--------------------

Cara awoke in a garden unlike anything she'd ever known before; her broken hand screamed and her head pounding in confusion. She felt sick, the slightest movement made everything spin one-hundred fold. Every plant was vibrant in colour and the crystal walls shimmered from moon light. It was too much for her eyes to handle. She laid still a moment in attempt to gather her bearings hopeful she'd remember exactly where she was or how she got there. She thought back to Merlin and Carolan, sitting in Adney's hut. 

Adney, she remembered. The entire time of knowing him she felt he'd watched her like a hawk. When he suggested she go out to wash she thought he was being kind, and of course he was but there was something else. As soon as she stepped into the water something odd happened-- a sound carried from the sea, all her defences were stripped away by whatever it was. Merlin came just in the knick of time, breaking whatever spell was placed on her. I went to look for Adney, she focused harder. I found him smoking his pipe and.. One minute she could recall her pressing him for more answers, the next he pounced on her and a struggle ensued. He pulled her into the sea and she screamed when he plunged her face under water. When she came up, her head was fogged over as if she'd been drinking all day, she could barely move a muscle. In her state she felt nothing but a euphoric calm even when seeing a great golden ship anchored a ways away. It called to her, intoxicated her, consumed her. Cara couldn't stand being away from the pull any longer and she held out her arms in hopes the distance would be closed. She stood suddenly not caring if she was sick, still nursing her hand. There was danger afoot and no time to lay about. She didn't escape Unna and her men just to die so soon after. 

"Peace, Cara." A figure could be seen standing there with an arm outstretched. This was the source of her enchantment, she was sure. She recoiled from it not daring to near knowing she'd no defence against the supernatural. The figure stepped into the light, and she came face-to-face with the most handsome man she'd ever seen. But it was no man, it was a sidhe-- the king of the sidhe. 

"Stay back." She couldn't scare a child with the way her voice wavered. 

"Peace," he said again. A pull from within made her knees buckle beneath her weight. "I offer you life eternal, silly girl. The others seem to enjoy it." She followed to where his hand gestured, gasping in horror when seeing women from town completely engulfed in vines. Their eyes resembled dolls, all glazed over like glass; hollow. 

Let me go, she wanted to scream, let them go. But she couldn't, all the muscles in her body were no longer hers to command. Even breathing became more difficult and soon every inhale became laboured. 

"Obey," he commanded, stepping closer. "And you will have peace eternal, like the others." He released his hold on her just long enough for an answer. She coughed violently, gasping for air as angry tears fell from her face. Not again-- she would not be a prisoner again. She screamed in defiance, glaring up at Finvarra; dying was better than what he offered. "I will take, torture, kill every last woman, man, or child if that's what it takes to bring her back to me!" He closed his hand into a fist in fury, and again Cara began her struggle for air. Everything began to slip away; everything darkened. The vibrant garden dimmed into black and she thought of everything she missed: Her mother, her father, old lady Agnes.. even Merlin. The boy who came and turned her world upside down. She was resigned to her fate before he came but another path was shown-- a path where he and she could walk and save everyone else from a fate they resigned themselves to as well. 

"M.." she managed, fighting against the blackness that took hold. All her thoughts focused on that boy and the promises surrounding him. They had to forge the path for a new era. "Merlin.." Finvarra's hold on her broke as a searing pain spread across her chest. 

--------------------

Adney was only just tying his row boat to a grand harbour, leading up to stairs carved into the mountain. Exotic flowers adorned the way leading to a rickety old bridge feeding to a gleaming crystal palace. The entire island felt different and as Merlin gazed up to the palace he felt a familiar pull; magnetic and true, he knew Cara was close. 

Merlin, he heard a faint calling. His entire body seized up and he toppled over, convulsing and struggling for breath. 

"Merlin!" Carolan kneeled beside him. His arms and legs were pinned at his side and he could feel himself foam at the mouth. Suddenly he stilled, tensing under an immense weight, something unlike any other shot through him. "What's happening?" A searing pain came from his chest and he screamed simultaneously with another, echoing from the palace.

"Magick," whispered Onagh. "A very powerful magick." Merlin sat up with Carolan's help. "We must keep moving." And on they climbed the slippery steps as fast as they could. They came to the great bridge dangling between the two towering mountains, below crashing waves threatened to swallow them up. Carolan could only frown when Merlin nodded to him in solidarity. They took careful steps trying to keep pace with the unwavering queen who met guards at the gate of the fairy-tale like palace. At first they trained their spears on her, but as they all drew near they fell to their knees. Without a word they blew a horn, leading up to the battlements; the gates eased open instantly. "Where is the king? Where is my husband?" Onagh demanded from a sidhe who met them in the courtyard. He pointed towards a closed double-door and Onagh led the three to it. They pushed with all their might against the wood until it gave way. A garden was revealed and at its centre stood a man who whirled around to meet them. His eyes widened at the sight of Onagh and in an instant they ran into each other's arms. Merlin scanned the area, running to a woman leveraged to a marble beam by vines.

"Here!" He called Carolan over and they ripped her free. She wore a bandana tightly across her head much like the fashion from the fisherman town. Merlin looked about again, finally spotting Cara laying motionlessly on the floor. He ran to her side, attempting to shake her awake. "Come on, Cara!" She did not respond to any of his attempts, not even appearing to breathe. Merlin's heart sunk, thinking he failed already-- failed to see out his quest, or keep the confidence his mother placed in him. How could he ever hope to achieve such a great destiny when he could not keep one girl safe? He hugged her close, apologizing over and over as Carolan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Too soon, Merlin thought as he pushed away the stray hair that framed her face. Far too soon. 

"Please, Queen Onagh," Carolan turned. "Is there nothing that can be done?" 

"No," she replied. "I would not dare bring her back to this world even if I could. She's in a better place." 

"We were going to change the world," Merlin sniffed. He placed her down gently and angrily wiped away his tears. "And you ruined everything!" Finvarra took his fury without flinching, only pointing to him in response.

"That symbol," Finvarra advanced towards him. He pushed aside Carolan to take a closer look. Merlin looked down to see a faint glow emanating from the burnt in symbol. "You are no mere mortal.. there is magick housed in you far greater than my own.. She is not dead, only stuck. You may yet save her." 

"How?" Merlin asked, running back to Cara's side. 

"Don't think, Merlin. It'll never come to you that way. Just.. do it." Carolan tried to explain. Trusting in his words, Merlin did his best to steady his hands, placing them gently on Cara's arm. His eyes closed and he begged her to return. 

Please, he thought, I have no one but you now. 

"Look!" Carolan gaped, prompting Merlin to open his eyes. A soft green glow fell from his hands and fed into Cara. Upon her own chest a similar symbol lit up and soon her eyes shot open. 

"I knew it," she smiled weakly at her saviour. "Don't ask me how, but I did." Merlin nodded wished he could have a witty retort or something to save face, but he couldn't help the emotions welling inside him. All that was revealed only strengthened his belief in the destiny they were promised. 

--------------------

They were offered rooms to rest and regain their strength before they set out again. With Onagh returned to her people, Finvarra released all the women he took-- of course he personally sought to their return himself. Adney saw no prospect in returning to his old boring life and he doubted the townspeople would welcome him back when they found out who'd been helping lure them to Finvarra. After he apologized to Cara (who took to throwing the closest object she could find in his direction) he was offered a place in Finvarra's court, to live out his remaining days as a token of esteem. Neither Merlin, Cara, or Carolan thought it was fair for him to be rewarded for his deeds, but none spoke out against it. The only good Cara found of everything was that whatever Merlin had done cured the broken bones in her hand. When the morning came Onagh met them at the dock and waved them away as the sidhe's golden ship sailed them home. When well away from court, they could hear singing carried by the wind; a song meant just for them.

"Where will you go now?" Merlin asked Carolan who thought a while. 

"I don't rightly know," he admitted. "I feel like this magick in me is meant for something.. I must learn to use it." Merlin nodded in agreement, his hand finding the sigil engraved in his skin. Whatever awakened in him, he knew he'd have to learn to use it for whatever lay ahead. 

"Why not come with us?" Cara offered. "We don't really know where we're going either." 

"Actually.." Merlin admitted, explaining the dream he had the day they slept on the beach. Visions came to him to show the way, they wouldn't always be completely lost. "So what do you say?" He asked, seconding Cara's notion. Carolan smiled shaking both hands with his new companions. 

The floor beneath his feet tore away revealing an endless abyss. He was alone in that nothingness drifting on into forever dragged by unknown currents. With an unburdened mind, he closed his eyes and listened to the voices that called him to that nothingness; voices of the three who called to him at the start of everything. They guided him as the abyss shifted into visions, helping him understand his power better. Passed green valleys and perennial shrubs that filled rolling glens the vision went, until it casted o'er head to reveal a decaying castle hidden deep within a thicket of willow trees with low hanging vines riddled with thorns. The castle itself was overgrown with said vines and small white buds bloomed. A little man the size of the palm of his hand (perhaps a bit taller) was sitting in the shade of willows clumped together on a great boulder, looking out over fallow fields. He was waiting. On the castle's western tower an albatross nest was set securely between the highest brick stones, and to the eastern way the land was cut off; a deep cliff took to defending the entry from unwanted visitors. Below, a raging ocean sounded with thunderous waves constantly pounding against the cliffside.

"You know the way," the three spoke. Merlin shot up from his dream drenched in sweat, his friends hovered over him in concern. He flashed them a thumbs up before they broke out into grins. In the morning they packed in silence all agreeing on a direction before heading off swiftly. Throughout their journey Merlin took to thinking solely about his magick. Slowly it strengthened and everyday he'd feel a pang of need. His magick begged to be used for even the most minute things. He resisted, feeling a shift out in the world causing a change; if he called for rain, then some place in desperate need went without. Instead, he tried his hand at healing, thinking only good would ever come from it. His eyes found the back of Cara's head as she led the way. Somehow, he'd brought her back in the knick of time. 
It'd only taken them a few days of travel to reach a familiar land. They passed the green valleys and made their way through the perennial shrubs on the rolling glens, which they'd have passed much sooner had Coralan not insisted on slowly taking in its view; wearing an awe-struck face. He composed occasional ballads along the way to make up for their delay. It hadn't stopped Merlin from secretly enjoying the view; even once tempted to pick a flower in secret just so he could smell it as they travelled. Soon enough, they reached the forest of willow trees with low-hanging vines. Before they could enter, the screaming of an old crone staggering up behind froze them in place. Merlin nearly screamed at the sight of the old bag. Not alluding Cara or Carolan's attention, they sniggered lightly and awaited the old woman's arrival. The woman was hunched over permanently, her neck strained as she looked up at the two. She'd one dead eye that clouded over and the other, a dark iris with tiny red veins spreading amongst it. Her skin was a yellowish hue and crinkled with deep lines, accentuating where she usually frowned.
"You mustn't enter the forest! It's no longer safe. Hasn't been for forty years, no, no!" She shook her head, wrapping a ragged shawl around her thin and stringy white hair. The three looked to each other, unsure of what to do with the clearly insane old woman.
"We have to.Thanks for the warning though!" Cara forced a smile, pulling Merlin and Carolan onwards to the willows. They followed dutifully, not speaking to the stranger they felt would somehow bring trouble.  
"No!" The woman shrieked, grabbing Merlin's other arm with a force he hadn't thought she possessed; his initial shock wore as her bony fingers dug into the flesh of his arm. His tunic brought little defence against it.
"Get off, you crazy old bat!" Cara yelled, attempting to wrench him free. Ever relentless the old lady gripped him tighter. There they stood at the top of a hill, locked in a battle of tug-of-war; poor Merlin stuck in between. "Carolan!" To anyone who saw this it would be quite comical but to those involved, it felt a battle of life and death. The bard dropped his lute in an instant, being broken from the confusion of the situation. He rushed to Cara and Merlin's aid and tugged with all his might. Merlin slid from their grasp as the sleeve from his tunic ripped; all were sent flying back. He and the crone went tumbling down the hill and Cara disappeared in to the branches of the willow trees alongside Carolan.
"No!" The crone scrambled to her feet and staggered back up the hill; the fall seemingly did little harm to her. "Its not safe-- not safe. Not safe at all!" She peered into the darkness of the trees. Merlin rubbed his bottom, wincing slightly, knowing it would definitely bruise in time. He groaned and walked up behind the old woman with a glare.
"Are you mad?" He called.
"No, no, not mad-- cautious." She breathed through her mouth and Merlin could just make out the last of her teeth. He made a face and turned to look to the willows.
"Carolan? Cara?" He looked into the shadows beside her, waiting anxiously for his friends.
"They're gone! I tried, oh but I did try!" She thrashed her arms about and began to slink away. Merlin looked to the forest, before chasing after the old woman.
"Hang on! Where'd my friends go? And don't go on a crazy-old-lady rant, I just want specifics."
"Those trees are cursed, boy! I tried to tell you."
"No, you really didn't. Where'd they go? I couldn't see two feet into that forest." The crone stopped and looked wistfully back to where the spat took place.
"That's what they do, them little people," she muttered.
"You're doing that thing I told you not to do." The crone's eyes went misty and instantly Merlin felt pity for her. Perhaps he was being a bit harsh in tone, but he just wanted to know if they would be okay. Or if he should've thrown himself into the forest with them. With a sigh, he patted her hunched back. There was a story coming and that let him know they were where they needed to be.
"Walk me to my hovel. Its over there." She pointed vaguely. Merlin lent his arm to the sniffling old woman. They reached her shabby hovel which was decorated with dead animals and their hides. She led him inside and picked dried tea leaves from an old bottle with a broken cork. "My own special brew." She smiled, boiling water over a fire. After setting down with two cups filled with her tea, she sat on a cushioned stump beside Merlin. The stool he chose wobbled excessively, making it impossible to get comfortable. He inhaled the smell of the warm tea, a sweet aroma wafted up his nostrils. He took a careful sip, avoiding burning his tongue. He looked out the window towards the willow forest, unable to settle the anxiety in his stomach. Would they be safe? When the crone calmed she began her tale.
"When I was naught but a wee lass.."
"Is this part relevant?" Merlin quickly interjected. The crone shot him a nasty look before starting again. 
"When I was young my village was racked with tales of an ancient castle once belonging to a good king who'd vanished. The castle was passed to one of his vassals and his children inherited it after. The lord was once rich and powerful, but very cruel. This was when magick was more common and because of it, both good and bad magick were used." Merlin perked, suddenly very interested in what she had to say. "It's said that the lord and his daughter were cursed and when the lord died, the only person left inhabiting it was his daughter: a woman who was fair as fair can be."
Not as fair as Queen Onagh, I bet, Merlin mused. 
"So you heard a fairy-tale when you were young? What's that got to do with it?" He asked, reminiscent of the old castle in the vision he was shown. Was it possible she spoke of the very one?
"One day, my village was attacked. Not many of us made it out alive. I was lucky, still young and pretty.." she smiled at Merlin who felt inclined to lean away. "I ran and ran until finally, there it was. Oh, I could barely make it out.. I lost my vision in one eye, almost starved to death! But it was a castle, and there was a white cow with red ears, I swear it. Two grey sheep and three speckled hens.. that's all I saw. The fields around the castle were dead. For a moment I thought I was, too."
"How'd you make it passed the forest?"
"It wasn't cursed then!" She described the land and her meeting with a woman dressed in silk with patches sewn into them. She, who was the same age as the crone at the time, took her in and nurtured her back to health with what little she had. When the crone recovered, she threw herself at the maidens feet, begging to stay and let her serve, for she was in her eternal debt. The woman agreed and there they stayed happily beneath the roofless sunken castle. "Through the years I noticed something strange. My own skin, wrinkled and I became haggard.."
"It tends to happen, I hear," Merlin quipped. The crone ignored him, much too invested in her own tale.
"But my mistress stayed the same; fair as fair with her dark eyes and milky skin. 'I am cursed, I am cursed.' I didn't push it. And one night, we heard something strange in the trees and tall grass.."
---------------------------------------
Cara awoke feeling a crushing weight on her chest. She groaned in an effort to stand, only to be met with a searing pain shooting through her leg. She looked down to find Carolan unconscious on top of her, and a broken branch lodged comfortably into her thigh. Cursing, she rolled him off as carefully as she could and clutched at her leg, pulling out the branch that pierced her flesh. Making her way, she dragged herself out of the tree line to the entrance of the forest, out of the shrubs and bushes and into a meadow. There was no hill, no old crone, no Merlin. There stood an old castle in their place, overgrown with wildlife and the fallow fields Merlin described from his vision. In the distance she heard the crashing of waves and the high calls of the albatross caught in the winds. She frowned, feeling lost without her guide. Suddenly remembering Carolan, she ripped a portion of her long skirt and tied the cloth taught across her wound. With careful steps she eased her way back to the unconscious bard, dragging him back to the fallow field as best she could. They'd both be safest taking refuge in the castle and after they rested they could attempt to rejoin Merlin, wherever it was he'd disappeared to. Her energy drained with each tug, and soon she regretted pulling the branch from her leg. The cloth wrapped stained red, and could no longer contain the blood that profusely spilled onto the fallowed fields. It left a trail behind her and had she not been so woozy she might've noticed the dark splats being sucked into the earth as if being drunk. Everything began to spin then and a fierce thirst took hold of her as she slumped down to lay by Carolan's side. The surrounding tall grass of the fields were thicker than initially thought, becoming quite the obstacle. 
"Looks painful," came an old man's voice. Cara didn't respond, only reaching for Carolan to make sure he was still there. "You need a healer?"
"How bad does it?" She held her eyes closed, finding comfort in the voice.
"Looks painful," he commented once more.
"Then you wouldn't happen to be a healer, would you?" She asked, finally chancing a glance. There, on a great stone in the shade of the willows, a tiny man sat waiting for something.
The size of my palm, she remembered Merlin describing.
"O' sorts." The man jumped down with a tiny thud and hobbled towards a bleeding Cara. "You don't seem too surprised none. At my size an' all." He rubbed his hands together before reaching out to her injury.
"I've seen quite a lot of surprising things recently," she admitted. "I'm Cara, by the way."
"I'm the Oldest an' Wisest," he replied and pressed his tiny hands against the wound, a green light shone. A slight tingling sensation spread, accompanied by warmth.
"The Oldest and Wisest?" Cara laughed, watching him move to check on Carolan. She sat up and watched him work around his head, and he commented on how they must've taken a nasty tumble before further explaining his name to Cara.
"That's what my people call me. We don't have names like humans. You can call me Ol'Wise, if you'd like." Cara nodded, liking it better than the former. 
"Oh!" Carolan shot up, causing poor Ol'Wise to startle. "Where am I? What happened?" He flinched at the sight of the little man, who only offered a quizzical look; Cara watched on in amusement. A quick introduction was made between the two. 
"Don' mind me sayin', but it seems to Ol'Wise like you two are lost." She stood, looking about with a renewed stamina; Ol'Wise had healed her in more ways than one. "How'd you get through them trees?" He questioned.
"Quite easily," Carolan replied vaguely.
"M' getting weak.." he muttered to himself. "You two hungry?" They smiled and nodded. "Come on then, let me get on your shoulder there so we can get you a bite quicker."  Cara kneeled, saving him a climb. Once safely perched, he grabbed the collar of her tunic for balance and gave a short glance back to the stone he'd sat upon. When he was ready, he led them towards the neglected castle. Inside, she navigated through many broken corridors and lifted dusted floor panels. Shattered stained glass was sprawled around and most of the roof had caved in. Remnants of old paintings and flags hung, torn and tattered. Cara figured it must've been a beautiful place long ago. She found it sad how time could turn something so proud and strong into dust and ruin. Finally they reached what she believed was once a kitchen; remnants of a lofty fire place and cauldrons of various makes and sizes were strewn about. For a moment she could have sworn she heard the sounds of small gasps accompanied by frantic steps scattering about the broken floors. 
"What was that?" Carolan asked, inching closer to Cara's side.
"S'alright you lot, come out," Ol'Wise called. All that could be seen moving were the tiny dust particles glittering in the sun for a moment, until, slowly from every crack and crevasse more little people appeared. Some were young, some old; men and women. But all, Cara shared a smile with Carolan, were very adorable. They cautiously huddled about, glancing up at them and Ol'Wise perched happily upon her shoulder. Cara knelt slowly and helped him down, before introductions were made. With a quiet voice, she shared her name, thinking if she spoke too loud they'd startle again and next time they wouldn't come back out.
"And I am Carolan," he followed suit. Ol'Wise smiled in approval, turning back to his handful of people. The older ones looked at him reprovingly, the children giggled happily and ran towards the two giants in awe and excitement.
"Can I ride on you next, big lady?"
"I want to ride the big man!"
"No, me!"
"I want to, too!" Cara laughed and reckoned they could all fit on her if they squeezed on really tight; there weren't many. They cheered happily and began to climb as they would a tree. Both sat really still, not wishing them to lose their footing.
"Oldest and Wisest, what were you thinking?" The older little people crowded around Ol'Wise and questioned him in whispers Cara could barely make out.
"You know how dangerous this is?"
"It's almost that time!" They agreed, falling into even more urgent tones.
"Yes, she'll soon rise." 
"If they got through the enchantment of the forest, then she'll be able to escape easily!" Cara bristled, feeling as though they'd just fallen into something beyond their ken.
---------------------------------
"…there must've been thousands of them! All approaching with their magick." The crone spat the word out like venom, clearly hateful of it.
"What were they?" Merlin asked.
"Demons; small and angry. Oh! They were so angry." He  raised a brow. "When they first came they told us they'd no home, said it was destroyed along with the land-owners. My kindly mistress invited them to stay. They were hungry, so she scraped the barrel where the cow with red ears milk usually sat and came to them with cream to drink and bread to eat. Everything was fine for the longest time. They were grateful, at least they pretended to be." She shook her head, "every time the mistress woke again, something would be fixed; the roof, the glass, the rooms, the furniture. But then they started asking questions…" The crones eyes narrowed. "My mistress didn't like that and they decided they didn't like her! I woke one morning to the sound of spades.. oh, the spades throwing the dirt back into a hole they buried my lovely mistress." The crone cried again. Nobody decided they didn't like someone out of nowhere. He'd the sneaking suspicion that she left out specifics about her non-aging mistress. "They chased me out after. I haven't been able to get through that blooming forest ever since they cursed it." 
"What questions did they ask?" He inquired with another sip of tea. 
"Don't remember, it was twenty years ago. If you'd excuse me, I'd like to rest now. You can make a fire outside if you want to wait for your lass-"
"What?" Merlin laughed at the thought. "Cara is not my lass." Merlin found his own way out, silently shutting the wooden door.
An enchanted forest with demons crawling about. He scoffed, doubting they were demons. He noticed the bible sitting in a corner of the hovel, catching dust with a broken rosary. He wondered if that was where her distaste for magick came from. Shrugging the thought aside, he gazed about the field and walked out of view of the hovel, where the forest curved around the hills. Being without his friends made him feel lonelier than he could've imagined. He just had to try and see if he could find them with his sight. He closed his eyes, searching for the pull that would lead him to Cara. Soon his vision went through twists and turns of the forest, over and under up-turned tree roots; passing every leaf and flower until it came to an open view of a dead land, and the overgrown castle he recognized. It lingered a moment before progressing into its corridors, through broken brick and rubble and vines. It turned and there they were, sitting criss-crossed on the dirty floor with cauldrons laying about. On them, little children climbed all over them as they laughed together.
Merlin stood with a huff. There he was worrying about the sorry lot while they had the time of their life. Pacing back and forth, he weighed the pros and cons of entering the forest. But surely if they made it through safely, he'd surely be fine. Without another thought, he stepped into the thicket of trees. Instantly the air felt different, the sound of hushed wails from all around him sounded. They warned of impending danger ahead. This was only strengthened by the darkening sky and stagnating air. He could see the steam draw out from him with each breath and with naught but his tunic to defend him against the elements, he rubbed his arms and hugged himself.
This forest is definitely enchanted, he thought, jumping when hearing a twig break in the distance. He called out, wondering if whoever was out there was friendly. Met with no reply, he headed in the opposite direction. Or haunted.. He shivered, feeling a looming presence. He wondered if one day he, too, could use such magick. Studying his surroundings, he noticed how everything began to frost over. He crouched down, losing himself in the moment of the magick tingling about him. The world outside the thicket lacked such a feeling.. Something inside told him no malice was poured into the enchantment. The crone was wrong in her assessment. He felt safe enough to want to press onward. 
On he went, the leaves of the willows cascaded, swaying in the air. They brushed lightly against his bare cheek and for some strange reason Merlin only remembered the hand of his mother caressing his face.
"My boy," she would whisper. "My sweet, sweet boy." A warm tear escaped his eye and all the weight of the world was suddenly felt pushing against his shoulders. Oh, what sorrow and joy a mother could bring. He could almost hear her voice sailing in the wind that danced amongst the trees.
My boy, it sang, stealing the voice of his mother. He'd a sudden urge, propelling him to escape for his heart could not take such cruelty. He marched ever on, trying to disillusion himself; trying to keep the strength in his bones and the will in his muscles. In his panic, his foot hooked by a root raised out of the ground, felling him into a puddle of mud. My boy.. he heard again. All the emotion he ignored welled and he cried then, softly and silently. In grief of his mother who lived for him and who he had lived for. And suddenly he knew why the crone would claim the enchantment evil, it did not show them any sorrow or plight that did not already live within themselves. 
Once out of tears to cry, his eyes stared endlessly before him. He heard himself chiding somewhere in the back of his mind at how stupid he was being. Yet still he laid in the mud and muck, wanting to stand but not finding the strength to do so. His friends were out there and all he wanted to do was run back to his little farm. What a coward he felt
My boy..
He clenched his eyes tight, wanting to scream the enchantment away. Slowly, painfully, he drew himself onto his knees, feeling very tired. He glanced up at the sky and wondered what would happen if he just gave up, never to move from that puddle. Would he sink into the earth and forget destiny? It sounded so easy. Then he thought of his new friends and the promises laid before them. All the excitement and danger they overcame together already, bonded them in way he couldn't begin to explain. They were his new family and he hoped he didn't feel alone in that sentiment. Letting his shoulders slump, his head bowed as he concentrated on fighting the darkness of the magic trying to consume him. He felt weak against it; vulnerable. How could he ever hope to achieve such a level?
"What is your sorrow, my boy?" His mother once asked him.
"Yesterday you told me you saw a dragon in the clouds," he replied. "But when I look now- oh, mother! Why can't I see what you see?" With a wail he balled his tiny fists around his mothers skirt. She didn't mind, even using her clothes to blow his nose.
"My eyes are not yours, sweetling." She hugged him close, "look to the sky. Tell me what you see." With a few sniffs and a rub of his weepy eyes, he looked up to the gently sailing clouds.
"I see a rabbit with its head poking out its burrow."
"And I see a flower still blooming in the early spring." He laughed not seeing how she'd make a flower of it, and she laughed along with him. "My boy. My sweet boy," and she caressed his face. "You've your own imagination; your own strength. Believe in that." He did believe for a time, until he didn't. Through the roads of time that belief was sucked out under the cruelty of the reality plaguing the world. When he was called by the three his faith returned.
The forest was enchanted with time and hopelessness. Making those who entered wane in their convictions. He had to remain true; true to himself and his beliefs. He needed to be with his friends, as they needed to be with him. Still feeling the fatigue sorrow always brought, he pushed himself to his knees. 
"I will take you the rest of the way," came a mellifluous voice; the presence he felt in the distance. He willed himself to look upon it, almost blinded by a great light. Before him was an ornate creature radiating a blue shine. Its exalted head held high in pride and at the fore of his head was planted a great single horn that swirled all the way to its tip. It was as white as first snowfall of winters day; its opulent fur groomed cleanly. The darkness within shed in the presence of it's purity; heart regaining its steady rhythm and his skin warmed back to life. Around him, the air vibrated and sung with a deep rooted magick that swam into his veins. Oh, to be in the great presence of a unicorn; the holiest of creatures. Merlin stood and bowed his head involuntarily and the unicorn bowed back, turning in a circle. It flowing mane swivelled with each movement. And with a whinny Merlin knew it meant for him to mount his back. He looked down at himself, gesturing to his mud-riddled clothes. The unicorn blew gently, releasing a cool breeze, and on command the mud slid off. He was clean once more, perhaps more so than before. "I will take you the rest of the way," said the unicorn again. With thanks Merlin mounted him. He felt life pulsing fiercely within at first contact with the unicorn's velvety fur. With a great neigh the unicorn stepped up on its hind legs, ready to begin its gallop. Merlin marvelled as the alicorn gleamed in its own light. Even the darkened sky was blinded.
------------------------------------
Cara chewed on the dried apricot they could spare. They apologized for not having more but she pushed it aside, grateful for anything they could get. She was taught many things by Unna, a bit of fighting and hunting being amongst them. But she lacked patience for both things and gave up right when not gaining progress. 
"What are you're people called?" Carolan asked between bites. She looked to Ol'Wise, wondering the same. She felt they might be offended if they referred to them as little people. Ol'Wise simply shrugged, reminding them that they didn't really use names of any sort and that little people was just fine as that was what they were. The children ran around happily, accepting their presence more than the elders; still sitting as far away as possible, whispering things with narrowed eyes pointed their way. They were the topic of discussion, of that Cara had no doubt. She didn't mind, she was the same when Merlin came to MerryVale. So she understood, somewhat. Ol'Wise sat in a comfortable silence with them, enjoying his own bit of dried fruit. 
"No one should ever have to eat alone," he told them. He was nice like that, Cara realized. For a time, Carolan asked him of the magick he held and Ol'Wise could never really answer them, stating only, "it just is." Carolan seem to be content with such an answer but Cara couldn't understand.
"Say, Ol'Wise?" She asked after polishing off her meal. She wondered if Merlin had eaten or if he was still with that crone. Ol'Wise hummed in question. "Have we done something wrong?"
"Not at all, m'dear."
"Is something important happening soon?" At this his chewing slowed. "Maybe we can help you, whatever issue you have," she continued, driven by duty to repay him for his help. 
"No, m'dear. I doubt anyone can help us."
"So you do need help," she snapped her fingers. Ol'Wise stiffened at having been caught. He continued eating in silence, until nothing was left to be eaten.
"Dearg Due," he replied at last. Carolan's eyes widened in horror at it's mention. She could only give a puzzled look at his reaction and wait for someone to explain.
"My father used it to frighten me into behaving when my siblings and I caused mischief. He'd say 'Carolan, you'd better stop this instance or the Dearg Due will come to you tonight- and I won't stop her!' And I'd cry and cling to his leg, snotty face and all."
"In the ol' human tongue it'd be akin to red blood sucker. This castle used to belong to her.." Ol'Wise added, speaking of how the little people used to be merry and welcoming. It ran in their blood to be so. The little people once shared their land with an old farmer couple, living their for years, helping each other cultivate the land. Ol'Wise said he'd known them since he, himself was young. Though he refused to reveal his age to them. "You wouldn't believe me if I told ya'." For generations the farmers children and their children after, worked with the little people to continue to grow the land. One day, on a night where the winds carried a foul air with them, the little people woke in a panic to the deathly screams of the farmer and his wife. Their screams turned to gurgles and the gurgles turned to silence. They needn't wonder too long about what happened, for once they reached the farmers home they found them in an alarming state. They were pale and thin, all colour drained from them. Their mouths agape with their eternal screams. Being the magical creatures that they were, they'd known straight away what caused the death of their friends: the Dearg Due. The little people held each other and wept over the bodies all night and when morning came they buried them in the same grave. Ol'Wise said it was so they could keep each other company in the next life. Over a few months they found their precious land slowly dying, the Dearg Due poisoned the soil just by stepping there with its impure heart. They stayed out of stubbornness, refusing to give up their home. But because they could no longer cultivate enough food, the little people began to die from starvation. So Ol'Wise made the heart breaking decision to take them away from their once beloved homestead. They made their way through forest and glen, then forest again. Through weeping willows and tall grass, and one night they met two maidens. One aged with a foggy eye and one fair with dark brooding eyes. After explaining their story she took them in. With time passed and under a constant eye, Ol'Wise noticed the mistress of the land had strange habits. Waking with the moon for instance, never eating. Her true nature revealed.
He knew the tale of the Dearg Due. When she was human, she'd a kind heart and all the people loved her. She fell in love with a peasant boy and he with her. However, her cruel lord of a father forbade their union, for it would bring him no wealth. Soon, he married her off to someone older; crueler, and much wealthier. She was locked away and everyday the old man would torture her, drawing blood from her fair skin in a vain search for his own youth. She had waited for her true love to save her until realizing he'd never come. Slowly, she hid away her food and freed herself by starving. She swore vengeance and her once pure heart twisted and gnarled into something dark. That was when she rose again as the Dearg Due, her cursed soul returned to reek havoc on not only those who wronged her, but everyone else. Her real name forgotten.
"Soon," said Ol'Wise. "Soon she'll come out again. My magick weakens with each year.. Soon."

Cara did her best to comfort an unresponsive Merlin. He merely laid on the straw bed with his back faced towards her, staring blankly at the brick wall. With her brow resting against the steel of their cell, she sighed. She failed to find anything to attempt to pick the lock with earlier and was beginning to feel resigned to her fate. Cara would rather face ten Dearg Dues than stay locked up any longer. 
Merlin explained the feeling he felt when they first tried leaving. Somehow knowing the law of the world; the law of magick. 
"To save a life, one must be given in return," he told her. She wondered then, why she was spared at Finvarra's court. "You weren't dying, he told her. Two powerful forces of magick fought for you." He pointed to her chest, telling her the triquetra was one of them and Finvarra the other. "I just broke you from it." 
"And unintentionally healed my hand," she reminded. When Claudas forced him to save Galahaut's life, another was taken somewhere else; their time on earth taken too soon. Merlin couldn't seem to forgive himself for that, she knew. They couldn't stay there and sulk, waiting for Claudas to do who knew what else to them. "Merlin, we have to go," she whispered. From the shadows, Lancelot emerged holding out the keys to their cell to show good faith. Cara backed away from the bars, eyes narrowing in suspicion as he unlocked their cell. Lancelot brought a finger to his lips, cocking his head to the side for them to follow. Cara quickly grabbed hold of Merlin's hand, pulling him off the bed. He didn't resist her and followed quietly behind. By the grace of all that was good in the world, they weren't caught filing into a shadowy room. There was a dusty bookcase filled with old scrolls and out of date books. Lancelot pushed it aside, revealing a secret passage. He led them through, reaching an entrance leading to the outer fields of Dolorous Guard. Never had any of them been so happy to gaze upon the night sky.
"Why?" Cara asked. And for once they could see emotion on Lancelot's usually stony face. 
"Long ago Claudas stole everything from me. My home, my family.. my bravery. I was afraid that if ever I were to step out of line, I too, would perish. I used the knights code to shield myself from that truth." He confessed, allowing the shame to be clearly read on his face. And suddenly Cara felt she understood him all too well. She'd done the same with Unna. "You were willing to die to protect Merlin from doing something he did not wish to. And Merlin, you were willing to go against whatever you believed to protect your friend. You reminded me of what courage and wisdom looked like." 
They decided against a fire that night. Merlin slipped into a deep slumber. Cara watched over him all night, seeing his face contort as he muttered countless apologies. She frowned, trying to stay her worry. Where they went from here, she'd no idea. All she knew was the she would follow Merlin wherever he chose to go. With that conviction in mind, she scooted closer to her companion, placing a hand on his arm. She looked like a mother, comforting her child.
"What happened to him?" Lancelot asked, breaking the silence. 
"The law of magick," she reminded him, explaining it as best as she could. Lancelot nodded, seeming to understand the burden Merlin carried. But Cara wasn't done, she supposed if his magick was explained there was no need to hide anything else; he was, after all, the person they searched for as Merlin assured her. They travelled a good month just to come find him. "Believe me, I thought it sounded crazy at first, too." She shook her head, remembering their journey so far. "But if you saw the things I have.."
"I believe you," Lancelot smiled. Grateful and tired, she laid back with a sigh, hoping they would all feel better come the morrow. With a final look to Merlin, she brought a hand to rest against her triquetra and she did something she hadn't done before; she prayed. 
Please, she begged. Let Merlin be okay. 
That morning, Cara nearly screamed when she woke to Merlin smiling down at her. Instead she pushed him away in a startled huff. His grin only widened in amusement when she glared.
"Good morning!" He laughed, looking to a confused Lancelot who groggily rubbed at his eye. "We've got a lot to discuss!" 
"Do we?" Wasting little time he told them of a dream he had, in which he heard a voice telling him not to despair. 
"Death, magick.. these are neither good nor evil," he repeated. Pointing to Lancelot, he then asked him if he remembered the future he saw with Claudas. Lancelot nodded, looking more awake than a second ago. "I saw you, Lancelot. Your story isn't over." Cara followed to where Merlin pointed. Out in the distance was a graveyard. "There. We need to head there." 
"I don't understand," Lancelot shook his head.
"Trust me, you never do until you do." Cara waved away his concerns. "Can you think of why that would be significant?" Lancelot thought a moment before his eyes widened with an idea. Before he could finish his thought, the town bell rang four times. All three looked over where black plumes of smoke could be seen rising from a multiple fires being set. They stood in a panic, hearing the distant screams of the people. 
"Claudas!" Lancelot clenched his fist. "He must've realized we disappeared. We have to help!" Merlin grabbed his arm before he could even think about running down there. 
"We have to go to the graveyard. Trust me, whatever's down there will help."
"We can't just leave them," Lancelot pleaded, jumping when Cara patted his shoulder.
"Leave it to me, I'll do what I can," she promised, not missing the doubtful look on his face. 
"Just don't die," said Merlin, agreeing with her plan. 
"You know, I'm starting to think I can't." She sprinted away, laughing. She wasn't planning on fighting anyone, only seeking to help put out the fires or help anyone who needed it. She rushed into town as fast as she could, meeting with pure chaos. People ran in every which direction, not minding who they knocked over in their hurry to scramble away. It almost confused Cara enough into forgetting what she was doing, until she heard multiple cries from a nearby house in flames. She took hold of one man and then another, dragging them with all her might to the burning home. As if realizing what she was doing they stopped, one man even telling her where the nearest well was. "You, start getting water. And you, gather as many people, we need to stop the flames from spreading," she ordered, remembering MerryVale in flames. She lost her home to a fire, she wouldn't let the same happen to Lancelot's. She stopped another pair of able-bodied men and told them to look for the people starting the fires, if they couldn't locate them trying to put the flames out would be futile. "Here," she tossed her rusty knife to them. "Use it as a last resort and don't get hurt." She then ran towards the home, rushing into the flames in search of the crying people. 
------
"You let a defenceless woman rush off into danger," Lancelot led Merlin through the graveyard. "I thought she was your friend, why would you do that?" 
"You don't know her that well," Merlin laughed. "I believe in her, she'll be okay. Right now we need to focus on finding anything of importance.." he trailed off, seeing Lancelot stand at two unmarked graves. "Lancelot?" 
"My parents," he answered. "They don't belong here. They should be in the crypts with the other Lord's of Dolorous Guard." Merlin fell silent a moment, uncertain if anything could be said to comfort him. But the somber mood did not last as both looked at each other with wide eyes, coming to the same realization. "The crypt!"
"Of course!" Merlin followed close behind. They came to a sealed stone door leading down into the earth. Together, they heaved the door aside with all their might. The stale air of the underground rushed out and darkness loomed ahead. "After you," Merlin backed away. Lancelot strode in confidently, Merlin had no choice but to follow. They could barely make out the braziers on the walls but they'd nothing to light it with. The path was too dark for them to figure out where they needed to go. "Let me try something," Merlin offered, closing his eyes and reaching into the knowledge inside himself. Suddenly the braziers roared to life with bright blue flames, revealing what laid within. Statues of the old lords stood erect and Lancelot stepped back with a gasp.
"I was never allowed in here.." he admitted. "And when I was, I'd just lost interest in coming." He hurried over to one statue and pointed. "That's Lancellin, he ruled Benwick two generations before my father, King Ban. I was named after him." He smiled, pointing to each statue and telling Merlin the history of each king. The catacombs were much deeper than they realized, filled with winding ways and other passages that led to more winding ways. All halls and corridors filled with kings of old. It was like a maze of sorts and it began to make Merlin's head spin. Finally, they reached a large hall, sealed off by another stone. With joint efforts, both he and Merlin were able to set the stone aside. Once they stepped into the hall, the light of the blue fires from outside, filled the braziers in the hall and the walls shone all colours of the rainbow. That was a special place. They approached the large statue of the very first King of Benwick, gripping a stone sword, as Lancelot explained. "This is King Llenlleog." Behind him, a symbol Merlin recognized was carved into the walls: a triquetra. Before the statue a metal slab laid, an ancient prophecy engraved in an old language Lancelot could not read. Merlin gave an embarrassing attempt at lifting it, though smaller than the stone that covered the hall, it's weight felt one hundred fold to that. 
"This is enchanted," Merlin concluded, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Are you sure?" Lancelot asked, amused.
"Ha-ha," he replied dryly, rubbing at his biceps. "Go on, then. You give it a go." Stealing another glance at the old king, Lancelot bent down and traced the metals edges, looking back at Merlin in shock. 
"I feel something," Lancelot confirmed with his continual tracing pattern. "This might actually be something only you can do, Merlin." Lancelot said seriously.
"No," Merlin shook his. He didn't think that was true, if it was he would've moved the slab on the first try. It was Lancelot who felt something from it and it was Lancelot's ancestor who was buried with it. "See that sword Llenlleog is holding? It looks like yours, I suspect he forged it himself. And that sigil behind him," Merlin showed his own triquetra. 
"Joyeux is of magick?" Lancelot surmised. It was very possible, in fact Merlin knew it was so. 
"Whatever is hidden beneath that slab, I think it'll help you and Joyeux." To be able to connect with one's ancient blood line was an exciting thing, indeed. Kneeling, he gripped the metal slab and felt the tingling begin anew. He sucked in a breath, easily pushing it aside. A light flowed into the dark hall, much brighter than the flames, temporarily blinding both men. When it passed, they peered down to find a cache holding an old chest dusted and moulded over. Lancelot took hold of it and with a slight heave pulled it out. Merlin crowded behind him, eagerly waiting to see what was inside. Carefully, Lancelot opened it. The old wood gave way with a groan, revealing a tightly rolled parchment. An ancient seal of the old king held it closed. Beneath that was white armour, engraved with magical symbols. It still glistened brilliantly despite its age. It was finer than anything either of them had ever seen.
"Well?" Merlin focused all his excitement towards the parchment. "What does it say?"
Lancelot broke the wax seal and carefully spread it open. In an elegant cursive, Merlin and Lancelot were both astonished to find the words were written in the modern tongue. What was more, were the words themselves:
Arise, arise, blood of mine.
I bid thee welcome to thee and thine.
Of noble heart and valiant soul
Of this title I give control.
Lancelot, White Knight, bold and true,
This title I gift to you.
Take my blade and take my armour,
Rule this land with just filled honour.
O' White Knight of Joyous Guard,
Lift high Joyeux and take this charge.
O' flesh of mine soul, both brave and true,
This is the title I gift to you.
Lancelot and Merlin looked to each other, small smiles formed. No longer would Lancelot run from Claudas.
------
Somehow, Cara and the townspeople managed to keep the fires under control, even enlisting the help of Claudas' men, who confessed to the crime. There were a few casualties, blackened into charcoal so that no distinguishing features could be made. Families gathered 'round the bodies nonetheless, mourning them so that they'd feel their love as they travelled into the next life. Cara sat by the old well when all was over, staring aimlessly into the distance. She'd hoped to avoid any sort of death, a woman handing out water to the tired people with a ladle passed upon her, stopping in her line of sight to gain her attention. When she looked up Cara placed her as the one who'd called the guards on her and Merlin. 
"You!" They pointed at each other, glaring. 
"What are you doing here?" Cara folded her arms tightly across her chest.
"I could ask you the same thing," the fiery young woman placed both occupied hands to her hips. The water in the bucket she held splashed. "This happened because King Claudas was looking for you!" She pointed harshly with the ladle. 
"He wouldn't be looking for us if you hadn't called the guards!" Their argument was interrupted by the first two men she stopped to put out the fire, followed by a handful of other tired-looking townspeople. One pointed her, smiling broadly as he identified her to the rest.
"That's her!" The other man came behind the woman arguing with her, taking the water from her hands.
"Thank-you for your help, Ninaine. Running into the stables to save those kids was foolish but also very brave!" The townspeople crowded around the two women and soon congratulations were thrown about to everyone. Cara locked eyes with the woman who looked at her with seemingly the same renewed adoration Cara had for her. Perhaps she was too quick to judge Ninaine, she was possibly only doing what she felt was right. When had that ever been a crime? She made her way to stand at her side, ignoring the suspicious gaze she threw her way when she held out her hand.
"I'm Cara."
"Ninaine," she shook it tentatively. Before long they spoke as if they'd been life long friends. Both were quick tempered and impulsive but Ninaine held a certain grace Cara could never hope to gain. Ninaine was poised and cool in the eyes of adversity, where she wasn't. Everyone celebrated for a time until more knights came riding down from the castle, pointing their weapons to the people. 
"People of Dolorous Guard," one called. "For harbouring enemies of your king and for conspiracy against him.." Ninaine pulled Cara to the front of the line, pointing to the knight Merlin healed.
"Sir Galahaut," she whispered, catching his attention. With a slight shake of his head, Ninaine quieted. 
"King Claudas of Dolorous Guard has sentenced you all to death." The crowd gasped, all talking amongst each other before they began shouting their pleas. Galahaut even stepped towards the man carrying the sentence before he could order the slaughter. 
"Byron, please," he urged, grabbing hold of his arm. He yanked himself free, silencing him into submission with a withering look. Ninaine took hold of Cara's hand, who gladly held it back. There was no way she'd be able to protect herself or anyone else for that matter against a contingent of armoured men. 
"Draw!" The man known only as Byron ordered and his men drew back their bows, taking aim at the people. They all hugged one another, crying and saying what they thought were their good-byes. "Loose!" He threw down his hand, swiping at the air. Instantly, their arrows fired and they whizzed true towards them. Cara couldn't help but scream, shutting her eyes tight. All she heard was a thunderous cracking noise, and the cool sensation of what she felt was shade. 
"Cara!" Ninaine gasped, urging her to look with a shake. She opened her eyes and gaped at the great wall of earth dividing Claudas' men and the townspeople. Immediately she smiled, turning to search the crowd. Like magnets drawn to each other, she pushed passed the shocked people to find Merlin panting and searching for her as well. Without a word they ran to hug each other.
"How did you-" she stopped herself, knowing Merlin would always be there to save her. "We need to stop Claudas." 
"Agreed," said Lancelot, walking up in a full suit of armour. He was a dazzling thing to behold; all white with his mighty sword. He reminded Cara of the unicorn in a strange way. 
"Lancelot?" Ninaine gaped behind them. 
"What is she doing here?" Merlin asked angrily. Cara quieted him with a pat on the arm, letting him know they were supposed to be okay with her now. The townspeople gathered, rejoicing in the miracle that blessed them. 
"Lancelot" They called. "Lancelot is here, he will save us!" He stepped through the people as they reached for him, grateful tears in their eyes. Merlin, Cara and Ninaine followed at his side as he led the way. With a nod to Merlin the wall of earth fell back, revealing the knights who cowered at the display of magick. Their eyes settled on Lancelot and his small army and before long they laughed themselves to stitches.
"What?" Spat Byron, "you going to stop us with nothing but a boy and two unarmed women?" Sir Galahaut stepped to his side then, drawing his sword on them.
"And an old man," he added. With an angry yell, Byron ran towards Lancelot, raising his sword high. And with speed unlikely found in someone his age, Galahaut parried away his blow and spun to counter another. He used the flat of his sword to whack Byron over the head, sending him staggering forward. "Stand down, you swine." He ordered the other men, seeing them drawing their weapons. 
"Kill them!" Byron screamed, until his face turned red. The men looked between Galahaut and Byron before sheathing their blades again. 
"Go now, Lancelot," said the old knight. "You need not worry about them." With a thankful glance, Lancelot and his new friends rushed towards the castle knowing Claudas had no one left to shield him. It seemed an intimidating thing, running through ghostly empty halls that were once filled with people. Cara could only imagine the anxiety Lancelot was feeling, knowing all he was about to face would decide who had right to Benwick. 
"This way," Lancelot said, turning the corner into another corridor. Stone pillars lined the way to the great hall. "Merlin," he turned to him and looked to Cara as well. "Both of you, please don't interfere. This is a fight I've to win alone." With a curt nod, they both promised not to raise a finger, even if it pained them to stand aside. 
"Lancelot," Ninaine stepped forward, looking down as she twiddled her thumbs. 
"It's okay," he smiled warmly. "It's all okay." She returned it then, and they all filed in when he sprung open the door. Claudas sat on his throne clad in copper armour, hunched as if he'd been waiting for them. He stood slowly when beholding Lancelot in all his glory. With a snarl he drew his less impressive sword and walked forward. "Single combat," said Lancelot. "Victor takes the duchy." Claudas closed the opening of his helmet.
"Agreed," he chuckled, it was a deep and cruel sound that rumbled within his armour. He sounded like a demon. They picked shields decorating the walls, Claudas taking the only one made completely of steel with his coat of arms stamped straight across. Here Lancelot would face his greatest fear once and for all. Cara studied Lancelot's posture, something about it made her worry. He was tense so tense he looked like a statue, as though there was no person inside the armour at all. Unna had always chided Cara when she became too emotional during a fight, she said she would make all the wrong decisions if that was how she went into it. They stood, neither willing to strike out first. Whatever Lancelot was thinking of, it caused his breath to quicken, and with each quickening of breath a deeper rage could be felt emitting. Cara recognized it well, thinking back to the day she killed Unna.
Finally Lancelot sprang towards him, Joyeux held high above his head to find it's intended foe; his wooden shield held in front of him. With a battle cry filled with agony, their two shields collided with a deafening clang. Their swords were pushed against each others, sliding up and down; sparks flew as steel met steel. With another push, Lancelot was thrown back. He landed on his haunch with a groan and Ninaine gasped in fright. Claudas stood before him, letting his sword strike where Lancelot lay. By sheer reflex, he rolled out from his sword. The clash of it against the cobblestone was deafening as the entire castle laid abandoned, save for themselves. Lancelot rose just in time to stop another slash with his shield. As suspected, it splintered and the force caused wood chips to fly to the floor. He didn't abandon it, knowing it was still good for one more hit. It was Lancelot's turn to strike out, Joyeux found itself connecting with the steel shield, producing more sparks. Claudas let out grunts as he put effort into blocking Lancelot's continuous strikes. Finding an opening, Claudas rammed into him with his shield and pinned him against a pillar. Lancelot struggled against him but could not move. Cara couldn't see but she knew then that Claudas was smiling that twisted smile of his, as he eased the tip of his blade into his side. Lancelot yelled from the slow pain inflicted.
"You could have been great, Lancelot," Claudas said. "Under my rule, you could have been great." With more fury Lancelot sent his splintered shield up with great force, hitting the Copper Knight against his head. Claudas was sent stumbling back, his helmet flew off and skidded across the ground until it reached Merlin's feet. Claudas scrunched his brows together, a rabid look painted his features. Lancelot threw down his own shield, pulling off his helmet. The match was to be kept even, a rule even Claudas understood. He threw down his steel shield, letting it wobble back and forth loudly with a rhythmic clang until it stilled.
"Something's wrong," said Merlin, looking to Cara. She agreed, he was still allowing his emotions to rule the battle. Lancelot and Claudas stalked forward, both seemingly ready to kill one another. Within seconds their swords met once more. Each blow being parried and each strike being dodged. Lancelot staggered, still bleeding as he only just jumped out of the way of an attack. "Too close Lancelot! You have to focus!" Merlin took a step forward in worry, only to be pulled back by Cara. 
"This is Lancelot's fight," she reminded. Sensing he'd the upper hand, Claudas became even more relentless with his attacks. Swinging to and fro, not even minding that he'd almost sliced Ninaine down. She quickly pressed herself into the walls to avoid any further incidents; chest heaving with frightful breaths. With endless barrages, Lancelot tumbled backwards onto his back. No doubt his injury and fatigue caught up with him. He panted, looking up at Claudas who stood squarely in front of him. His sword was down but he still gave a sickly grin. He seemed to be relishing in the moment, taking in the sight of Lancelot's vulnerable form. As he laid there, Lancelot's true emotions laid bare; there was anger, sadness and anxiety. 
"Lancelot!" Both Merlin and Ninaine cried. Claudas raised his sword and brought it down. With the little strength left Lancelot raised Joyeux to meet his blow. It was easily tossed aside with an angry grunt from Claudas. His face reddened, and his blonde hair was drenched in his sweat.
"You will obey!" Claudas screamed. Lancelot glanced towards Joyeux as it laid just out of arms reach, then back at Claudas who smoothed back his hair in attempt to compose himself, though his hand still shook. Standing as swiftly as he could, Lancelot ran towards Joyeux. Claudas chased after him, swinging his sword again and again. In his weakened state, Lancelot dodged and weaved just enough to get away. He clutched at his wound, barely able to keep his balance. Cara could see a shift in his face, as if he understood what it was that weighed him down reflecting off the face of his enemy; he'd been so blinded by his rage, he felt nothing but the urge to slaughter the man before him. Lancelot took in a breath, calming instantly.
"I will never obey you, Claudas. You are a coward and nothing more." While Claudas was distracted by his words, he failed to see Lancelot take up Joyeux. Through his pivoting and weaving, Lancelot made it to the side of his forefathers sword. With one last yell, Claudas ran towards him. Lancelot, who was kneeled, stuck Joyeux out, leaving Claudas to skew himself on the blade. His eyes widened as he stopped and looked down at what had happened. Losing all his strength, Claudas dropped his sword and brought his trembling hands down towards his fatal wound. He stumbled back, freeing himself from Lancelot and fell with a thump against the floor. Blood gurgled out his mouth, spluttering as even more pooled beneath him.
"He's met his destiny," Merlin closed his eyes and turned away. 
-------
A month had passed since Lancelot reclaimed his rightful place as king. The town of Dolorous Guard was no more, being renamed to what his ancestors referred to it: Joyous Guard. Within that time, Lancelot had sent word to his Uncle, King Bors of Guannes, the last of his living relatives. He needed people he could trust at his side to help him rebuild all that was lost, he was still recovering from his wound. Though Merlin had offered to heal him, Lancelot was still wary of magick, though he did try and was slowly more accepting. Much quicker than anticipated, King Bors had sent two of his sons to aid in the reconstruction of Joyous Guard; Sir Bors the younger and Sir Lionel. With their help, he achieved much, even finding time to move his parents into the crypts where they belonged.
Meanwhile, Cara and Ninaine stuck to each other like glue. They became fast friends, finding joy in each other's company. Cara had wanted so badly to learn how to fight properly, feeling invigorated from watching actual knights battle. Though no one seemed to want to train her in the art, be it because she was a woman, a stranger, or her wildness just unsettled them, she felt dejected. That is until Ninaine suggested she spoke to Sir Galahaut. He had a soft spot for Ninaine in particular, always having watched over her. So Cara did just that and after hounding him all day he relented.
Merlin took that time to read all the books in Lancelot's library, studying magical creatures accounted for throughout the ages and reading testimonies of those who claimed to witness sorcerers first hand. Names he recognized were written in multiple times: Morgase, Vivianne, Morgaine. All from different ages throughout history and all who wielded a power unlike any other. Though only the history of Vivianne was recorded. She was a Druid Queen, said to have commanded the very plants with only her mind. She single handedly stopped an invasion, though she fell in battle defending her people from another. Since then the Druids had no sovereign and took to keeping council only with nature. All seemed well and they were happy living their day-to-day lives there. But destiny would wait for no man. One night, Merlin dreamed of them reaching a grand city with deep red flags flapping in the wind, the Pendragon sigil sewn in. Camelot was waiting. With no time to lose, he woke everyone in the dead of night, telling them of the vision he saw. Cara packed her bags without hesitation, smiling when seeing Ninaine do the same. Lancelot, with a heavy heart, prepared his own leaving his eldest cousin, Sir Bors the younger in charge of Joyous Guard in his absence. And Sir Lionel swore to follow him to the furthest land. Sir Galahaut promised to serve with honour and protect everyone in town while he was away. 
Five of them left Joyous Guard that night, venturing out on their mounts into the uncertain future with hopes of forging the way of the promised Golden Age.

They found Camelot could be seen not too far off. Only a sea of far reaching fields were between them and Uther Pendragon's kingdom, all cheered at the sight of it. They trotted past richly green pastures, passing a black tower overlooking the land in the distance. Cara felt a chill run up her spine being in it's foreboding shadow, she felt they were being watched. 
"What are we to do when we get there?" Lancelot looked to Merlin. "I know, you've told me how this destiny business works but we're entering a king's court, we can't expect him to welcome strangers with open arms." As if on queue, a young woman wearing lavished clothes came screaming out of the woods. Two men wearing fluttering red capes ran after her, looking over their shoulder with their swords drawn. Ten saxons wearing mean snarls gave chase, swinging their battle axes savagely. As if on instinct, Cara sped towards the saxons, ignoring Merlin's worried call. Lancelot and Lionel followed after her, rushing to engage the saxons. The men in red capes fought alongside them, knowing instantly they were on the same side. 
"Here," Cara reached down for the girl, whose doll-like face broke out in relief from the sight of her. She gripped her hand and pulled her onto the horse as they rushed away from danger. The saxons clearly had them outnumbered but they were no match for the disciplined force displayed by the knights. "Are you alright?" Cara asked the girl, her eyes still trained on the battle. She trembled, scooting closer to Cara.
"Yes, thank-you, kindly. I was only on a walk, everything was fine until they showed up out of nowhere." She introduced herself as Guinevere. Cara wondered what they were doing so close to Camelot. Surely they wouldn't be so foolish as to venture that close? 
Unless, she thought, they've gained more ground. She dismounted, allowing Guinevere to have her horse as the men walked back victorious. Merlin and Ninaine rushed to their side. 
"Guinevere!" The younger of the two knights in red rushed to her. "Are you safe?" 
"I'm fine, Mordred," she smiled. "I'm glad you and Sir Dinadan are safe thanks to our.." her eyes found Lancelot's, and she turned away with rosy cheeks. "Our timely rescuers." Mordred looked suspiciously towards the king of Benwick, while Sir Dinadan shook his and Lionel's hand.
"We are glad for you, good sirs!" He said with a chuckle, his teeth barely poked out from beneath his thick moustache. The men introduced themselves and brightened when Lancelot told him their name. "Ah, I've heard of Benwick, beautiful place." Finally, Dinadan looked to Cara. "And you, young lady, that was a very brave thing you did. King Uther will be eternally grateful for you and you're company for saving his daughter. All of you won't go without reward. Come," he waved them along. Cara rode with Ninaine from there and she looked to Merlin who held a smugly satisfied grin. He would never tire from being right all the time, she knew. 
"Did you see how the little princess looked at Lancelot?" Cara whispered to Ninaine, beginning her gossip. 
"Poor girl is barking up the wrong tree," Ninaine laughed. "He may be handsome but he's dumb as a nail when it comes to girls. Trust me, I'd know." Cara raised a brow at that, wondering if Ninaine had tried her hand with him before. "Never-you-mind that," she continued as if sensing Cara's curiosity. "Have you seen the look that young knight is giving you?" With little tact, Cara found Mordred staring, whose blank face unnerved her. He looked away when she took notice of him, dark curly wisps of hair swivelled as he walked. He was a stern boy, that much was clear. She didn't know what that look was all about but she didn't think it meant what Ninaine thought it did.
Cara found that she liked Sir Dinadan a lot. He made the rest of the journey there more interesting as he regaled them with tales of his youth. His jovial demeanour seemed to melt away the tension left by the unpleasant encounter with the saxons. When they arrived at the gates they were met with no resistance, no door seemed locked to them in the city with two knights of Camelot in their company. Many people waved and called their praises to the fair princess riding through and with a slight wave a her hand, the people revelled in her presence. The Pendragons seemed well loved and Cara could see Lancelot take notice of it, too. When they reached the castle, their mounts were taken to the stables to be fed and watered. 
"Now, you've come at a precocious time," Dinadan admitted. "At this very moment King Uther is working with King Lot of Orkney-- Sir Mordred's father, actually. But that's neither here nor there-- and King Pellinore of Angsley. They're hoping to reach some sort of treaty. Though I doubt I can get you an audience with King Uther today, I can most definitely offer you a couple of rooms." He looked to the princess who nodded eagerly, still looking to Lancelot. 
"Tomorrow night we hold a banquet, in hopes to celebrate the successful treaty. Will you be staying long in Camelot?" She asked hopefully. 
"Yes," Lancelot answered quickly. He caught himself and stammered, looking to Cara and Merlin. They both offered him a funny look before Merlin answered with a nod.
"Yes, I believe we might." 
"Excellent!" She laughed, excusing herself in excitement. Dinadan led Lancelot and Lionel one way, leaving Merlin, Cara and Ninaine in the care of a brooding Mordred. 
"This way, I suppose." He said, turning into a smaller entrance of the castle. Ninaine looped her arm through Cara's as she listened in to the hushed conversation they held behind the knight. 
"It's all working out," Merlin smiled. 
"For now," Cara looked to both her companions to emphasize the concern she had. "They were attacked very close to Camelot. There were ten of them and where there's one saxon, not many are far behind." 
"Cara," Ninaine laughed. "We're in Camelot. There's must be hundreds of knights here under King Uther's command."
"Don't forget King Pellinore and Lot," Merlin added. "They wouldn't travel far without bringing a fair amount of men either." 
"Maybe," was all Cara could respond with. Yet she couldn't fight the sinking feeling in her stomach. When they reached their rooms, Mordred left them without of word. Ninaine commented on how he was a rude little boy. They settled in, later reconvening with Lancelot and Lionel, who were found watching a sparring match out on the training grounds. Sir Dinadan brightened at the sight of them, ushering them to stand at his side. Cara had never seen so many knights gathered in one place, briefly she wondered how they weren't able to spare a few men to save villages from the fate MerryVale met. Though the smaller people probably meant nothing to kings when there was a war waging. 
Merlin yawned, excusing himself from the field. He was never interested in fighting, she knew, his interests lay with books and magick. 
"Wait for me," Ninaine ran after him. 
"Dear girl, it appears you're stuck with me today," Dinadan laughed. Cara couldn't help but join him.
"I could think of worse companions," she glanced to Mordred who sat across the field with a group of men who wore black capes. They all looked similar to young Mordred. 
"Don't mind the boy, dear, he's a lot to think about nowadays." He excused his rude behaviour, pointing to a man standing closest to his side. "Look, that is Sir Gawain." He'd dark locks cascading down his shoulders. "And there-- Sir Gaheris, Sir Agravaine, and Sir Gareth. All brothers. It's not easy being the fifth son; it's less so when the king your sworn to is trying to stop the war his father started." Cara felt she understood a bit better then, she'd be upset too if she was in his shoes. What must it have felt like, being sworn to an uncle who refuses to take his father's side. They watched as Gawain teased his younger brother by ruffling his curly head. Mordred pushed his arm away roughly, trying to retain his dignity. "I saw you out in the field," said Dinadan, "You weren't just watching to make sure your friends were alright, you were learning." He pointed to the two knights sparring. One was tall and tanned to the point his skinned reddened in irritation, the other with a barrelled chest and large arms.  "That larger gentleman there is Sir Lamorak- a real charmer with the ladies, I hear." Dinadan wiggled his bushy grey eyebrows. "And the other is his younger brother Percival, he's still training to be a knight. Mordred here beat him to it. Sons of King Pellinore." Cara nodded, they were essentially enemies of the five brothers who watched them. "You told the princess you mean to stay a while. Why don't I show you what I know?" 
"Really?" She beamed at him, thinking her sword play came to an end when they left Sir Galahaut back in Joyous Guard. He nodded, seemingly relishing in the grateful squeal she let loose. "Thank-you!" 
"There's many knights around you could learn from, I'm not sure if you'll get to meet them all. We've been busy with a great many things this past year," explained Dinadan. Lancelot approached finally, seeing the match between Sir Lamorak and Sir Percival come to an end. They walked off the field in search of what Cara assumed would be lunch. She was always ravenous after Unna worked her to the bone in training.
"If you would indulge me, Sir Dinadan, perhaps we could have a match of our own?" The older knight laughed heartily; a well of endless mirth. He shook his head promptly, declining respectfully.
"I'm old, you'd have me beaten easily."
"I will fight you," Mordred walked across the field, standing in Dinadan's place. His brothers came behind him in support, gazing Lancelot up and down as if trying to figure him out. The oldest of them summoned the same sinking feeling Cara had in her stomach before. Without realizing, she hid behind Lancelot and Lionel. He was a handsome man, but the air about him repulsed her.
"It's a sparring match, brother. Not a fight." The knights laughed amongst themselves.
"You'll see why Mordred is the youngest knight of Camelot," Gawain spoke proudly. The men were too entwined in whatever show of dominance was happening to notice Cara slink away in search of Merlin and Ninaine.  
-------
Merlin and Ninaine found themselves in an opened well-tended garden. Vast arrays of colours sprouted from the grounds in the forms of elegant flowers. They walked around it, speaking in depth about their lives and their journey so far. Before long they fell into a comfortable silence, each wondering what was to come. Was Camelot not as safe as Cara believed? Merlin's magick gave him no warning in that regard. But he believed whatever adversity, they'd overcome it just as before. They were startled out of their musings by squeals and giggling, followed by a loud shushing noise. Merlin felt they needed to hide, so he tugged Ninaine behind a rose bush and peered through any gaps. 
"What-" Ninaine began, silencing when Merlin brought a finger to his lips. She watched on with him, seeing a fair lady with braids pressed neatly to her head, atop of it sat a crown. Her pristinely white gown was tarnished as a man in a blue cloak pushed her to the grass and laid over her, watching her face before kissing her deeply. Ninaine tugged on Merlin's sleeve, eyes wide as if she knew something. She pointed to the nearby exit and led the way as they silently escaped into the castle. They sped away, not daring to speak until they reached their room where they found Cara sitting with a grim look in her eyes. All at once they spoke over each other, trying to explain their findings. Merlin took a breath holding Cara and Ninaine's hands down. Both liked speaking in an animated fashion when emotional. 
"Breathe," he told them both, looking to Ninaine first. 
"That man just now was a knight of Angsley," she said. "Not just any knight, he was the one we saw sparring on the field. And that woman was wearing a crown!" She tried to piece together the two who were having an affair. 
"That must've been Sir Lamorak" Cara offered. "Sir Dinadan told me he was a ladies man." They went quiet for a moment before Merlin looked to Cara for her news. "I met some people out on the field-- not personally, but there was one in particular that gave me a strange feeling. I think we need to be mindful of Sir Agravaine of Orkney." Merlin and Ninaine nodded, choosing to trust the instinct she felt. 
The three of them stayed in their quarters for the rest of the day and straight into the night. The exhaustion from their travels caught up with them and they fell asleep quickly. Merlin jolted awake from an unknown anxiety swimming in his veins, his heart pounded unevenly. He looked to the bed next to his where Cara and Ninaine shared a cover, looking so peaceful as they rested. The sudden urge to explore the castle tugged at him and as he dressed Cara sat up to ask where he was going. Without having even answered she pulled on her boots and waited for him at the door way. They shared a smile before heading out. 
Merlin let his feet lead the way and on they walked until they found themselves in a corridor branching between narrow steps to an open library and down another, much narrower hall. Merlin held Cara back from entering, pulling her behind the wall they'd just rounded when hearing men speaking in the shadows. 
"How do you supposed this will end- the treaty signings now that we've learned of your affair, mother?"
"In a word?" Someone answered place of the woman they were asking. "Badly," said they finished with a sigh. Merlin felt compelled to peek behind the wall, pulling back when making out the scene. Five men stood over a kneeling man and woman. He couldn't quite make them out but he was sure it was the same pair from the garden. Cara tugged at his sleeve, looking for an answer, unfortunately Merlin felt too tense to speak. 
"We all know this will end in bloodshed."
"Do we brother? If King Pellinore loves his people as we do ours, how do we know he won't be willing to end this war?"
"Because, King Pellinore will always look after his people first, as we do ours. And with Sir Lamorak of all people, mother." The voice scoffed.
"How dare you treat me so!" She finally spoke, using a harshness one wouldn't reserve for sons. 
"You've no right to speak, you adulterous whore." They could hear a sharp slapping sound and all at once swords being unsheathed. Their queen mother began to sob violently. 
"I am your queen; your mother!" She cried over and over again, as if desperately trying to remind them. 
"Odd how you choose to remember that now." A scuffle broke out and following it muffled cries and angry grunts until silence fell.
"It didn't have to be like this, Agravaine." The one who questioned everything at first said. Merlin couldn't believe his ears, Cara had been right to suspect Sir Agravaine. "War will be a certain thing now."
"War was certain from the start, dear Gawain," Agravaine replied simply. They could hear them lifting each body, approaching the entrance where Merlin and Cara hid. They stood quickly and scurried around another corner, waiting for them to pass. When they thought the coast was clear they emerged from their hiding spots, only to come face to face with Mordred who seemed as shocked as they were. He was coated in blood and they froze for a time, unwilling to break the silence.
"Mordred, come!" Agravaine called. With a steely look, Mordred walked on without a word. Merlin let out a shaky breath, wishing he hadn't seen that but he knew they had for a reason; everything had a reason. He grabbed Cara's trembling hand and took her back to their quarters where they tried to sleep once more. Merlin, however, couldn't close his eyes without hearing the cries: I am your mother. Could he have stopped them if he tried? 
------
The next day, as Dinadan promised they were taken to King Uther's court, where many people waited in line to speak with him. At his side sat his lovely Queen, Ygraine, and at his other was Princess Guinevere. They stood off to the side watching each monotonous preceding take place, eager to leave. Merlin and Cara stood uncomfortably under the scrutinizing gaze of Mordred and Agravaine. 
They know, Cara wanted to scream. She did her best to ignore them, pretending to be interested in the matters of the court. Merlin instead took to looking at the floor and when it seemed to be too much for him, he slid behind Lancelot and Lionel. Traitor, Cara wanted to say when she saw there was no room for her between Merlin, Ninaine and the stone wall caging her in. She missed Carolan and Ol'Wise and the little people she wished she stayed with. 
At long last, Sir Dinadan stepped forward, speaking on their behalf. "Your grace," he bowed deeply before the Pendragons. "Yesterday morning, on Princess Guinevere's walk in the woods, we stumbled across a saxon camp naught five kilometres from the city." The court gasped in fear. King Uther held up his hand to retain order before they fell into panic.
"My daughter told me of the incident," he admitted, looking to Guinevere. 
"My king, were it not for the bravery of these fine strangers neither, the Princess, Sir Mordred nor myself would be standing here in court today." He pointed to their company with an open palm. "I humbly petition they be rewarded." 
"They will be," King Uther smiled. "Of course I would not overlook such an act." Dinadan waved them over. Merlin and Ninaine stayed behind, shrinking into the crowd. "What boon could I offer you?" He looked between Lionel, Cara and Lancelot.
"I ask for nothing, your grace," Lionel humbly bowed his head. "Serving you is reward enough." King Uther smiled in appreciation, looking to Lancelot next. For a moment Cara thought Princess Guinevere and Lancelot would run into each other's arm by how intensely they stared; always finding each other since the day they met. It reminded her of the bond she shared with Merlin, though not exactly like it. She scrunched her nose at the thought of looking at Merlin in such a way. He and Ninaine were getting along well, she noted. She needed to look further into that as well. 
"Lancelot of Benwick is it?" Uther broke the silence. He nodded, stepping forward and bowed before the king.
"Correct, your grace."
"Lancelot, I know what it is you'd ask. Perhaps that discussion would be best had in private." Lancelot nodded, stepping back to stand at the side of his companions. He ignored the look Cara gave him all the while, Ninaine was wrong in her deduction it seemed. "And you, my dear?" He finally settled on Cara. Was there anything she could ask of him that she hadn't already received from Sir Dinadan? The old man already offered her hearts desire. There was also the issue regarding Agravaine and his brothers, who watched even more carefully in the fleeting moment. She could easily tell the king what she and Merlin had witnessed, but they were strangers too low to contest any of them. 
"I-" Her words were drowned out by a blood curdling scream. 
"Queen Anna!" A steward ran into the throne room, "and Sir Lamorak of Angsley-- dead!" 

The court was dismissed in a hurry and in everyone's panic, Cara lost her footing. She was nearly trampled until she felt herself scooped up by each arm and led down an empty hall. She was thrown against the stone wall and pinned there. 
"So," spoke Agravaine with a charming smile. "She's the one?" Gawain, looked down at her in pity, though he was the one who kept one of her shoulders pinned.
"She's just a girl," he looked over to his brother holding her other side. Cara thought she hit her head against the stone too hard, for she saw doubles. She shook her head slightly only to come to the realization he was a twin. "No older than you, Mordred." 
"That doesn't change the fact that she saw us-- her and her friend."
"Enough," Agravaine chided, looking down the hall to a guard who hurried by. He pulled Cara further into a vacant room, holding only old paintings and ruined flags. "Do you have a name? Can you speak?" She looked from brother to brother before her shock wore off, her face twisted into her usual defiant glare.
"If you're going to kill me just do it already!" She pulled herself free.
"Kill you?" Agravaine and his brothers laughed. "Dear girl, no, We only wish to talk." Her face fell, wondering what business they could have with her if not to silence her permanently. Agravaine held up his hands in a show of peace. "Tell me, what did you see?" 
"I saw nothing," she said quickly, looking to Mordred. "Except Sir Mordred leaving the library…covered in blood." 
"And what did you hear?" Agravaine pressed on. She shook her head before she promised she heard nothing. Agravaine nodded slowly, thinking a moment. "I believe you. Listen, dear girl-" She corrected him with her name, feeling patronized. Surely he was only playing at being kind to get something out of her. "Cara," Agravaine practiced. "Dear Cara, I do hope we can depend on you and your friend's silence. I think you and I can become good friends as well, and I can promise you all my friends are well-treated." They all watched her, waiting for some sort of response. The swords hanging from their belts didn't go beyond her notice, with little to no choice she offered a weak smile. "Glad I am to hear it. I'm looking forward to seeing you at tonights banquet.. if they don't decide to cancel it." 
"As am I," she managed, watching them all leave the room. Gawain stayed back a breath, looking over his shoulder at her. She supposed she looked a rather pitiful creature, shrinking away to find refuge from his lingering gaze in the darkness.
"You really needn't worry about anything," he promised, following after his brothers. She reunited with her friends, who seemed relieved to find her unharmed. Ninaine gripped her face in her hands and made her promise not to wonder off on her own ever again. She promised, suggesting they all took a stroll in the garden. Though hesitant, it was ultimately agreed upon. They spoke and laughed, doing there best to dispel the air of negativity within the castle. Lionel took to teasing Lancelot mercilessly about his obvious crush on the princess.
"Though it is obvious the girl is taken with you as well," Lionel mused, looking for assurance in Ninaine. The maid merely huffed and stated she'd no interest in their affairs, leaving their company thereafter.
"You!" Pellinore, alongside his son Percival (whose eyes were red and weepy) stormed her way. Lancelot and Lionel stepped forward to meet the King of Angsley. Pellinore ignored the hand his son laid on his shoulder. He pointed an accusatory finger to their party. "You did this! His murder happened the day you arrived! Tell me it was so!" 
"Father, please.." Percival said meekly.
"Tell me true!" Pellinore fell to his knees and wept for the loss of his son. Cara felt her heart break at the sight of him, hating how Camelot brought out the coward in her. She looked to Merlin who seemed to share her grievance. Percival knelt at his father's side, placing his arm around his shoulders. She briefly wondered if her own father, wherever he disappeared to, wept the same way Pellinore did for his son.
"I'm sorry-- so very sorry," she found herself saying. "It wasn't us." Pellinore looked at her with believing eyes, weeping like the willows back near the land she knew the little people lived on. Percival seemed thankful for her kindness towards his father; thankful for understanding the weight of their loss. Pellinore accepted the hand she offered, standing tall once more. He apologized and excused himself, leaving his son behind.
"Forgive us," said Percival. They nodded their good-byes and continued to walk amongst the gardens, unable to laugh as they did only moments before.
-------
That night the banquet was held according to plan despite the tragedy that struck the kingdom. Guests were dancing inside the great hall, spilling out into the corridor drinking, speaking and eating. Lancelot stood, talking with the group outside before they headed in. Merlin strongly suggested that all of them should stick together, especially after the encounter Cara had with the brothers of Orkney. Only Merlin and Ninaine were privy to that however, but Lancelot and Lionel agreed nonetheless. As if Merlin's warning fell on deaf ears, Lancelot excused himself after spotting Guinevere standing in the hall with her mother and father. They all called after him to no avail, and Lionel could only offer a shrug before following his cousin. Cara supposed they'd be safe watching each other's backs. And in the Pendragons company, who'd dare to raise a finger against them. 
"I can't," Ninaine rushed off with tears in her eyes, and Merlin forgot himself and gave chase. 
"Merlin!" She crossed her arms with a huff. Suddenly she felt very alone and vulnerable standing amongst the well-groomed lords and ladies of the court. This was no place for a farm girl who only played at being a knight. Every moment of her life felt a continuous joke, placing Cara where she didn't belong. The only places she felt like she belonged was at Merlin's side or back with the little people, laying on that field in the shadow of a broken castle. But that far-off field was leagues away.. Her angry demeanour melted into a demure attempt at hugging herself close. 
"Cara!" Agravaine and his brothers found her, though they were the last people she wanted to see; only adding more to her discomfort. He frowned, seeing her wear her usual attire. "I sent a dress to your room earlier, did you not receive it?" Oh, she had, but dared not put it on. The black gown screamed a clear allegiance to Orkney, even Cara who'd no idea how to navigate politics knew that. "Never mind that, we've a bit of news." He held a hand out to her and not knowing how to refuse the silver-tongued lord she took it. He walked her into the hall, ignoring the conversations his brothers had behind them and forcefully looped her arm through his. Pulling her uncomfortably closer he whispered into her ear, "Pellinore is dead." Her eyes widened in horror as she desperately looked around at the other guests. "You didn't hear?" Agravaine chuckled. "There was a confrontation between he and my father. They're both dead and I am to be king. I've promised my uncle I'd sign the treaty with the heir of Angsley, which would be Aglovale. I suppose." 
"Why're you telling me all this?" Cara tried to break free but he refused to release his hold on her. 
"Because, my dear, the more you know the more involved you are. Should you say reveal anything to anyone, you'd be as guilty as the rest of us." Cara trembled and her eyes welled up with angry tears; lip shook in anticipation. She felt herself a girl again, powerless to stop herself from being imprisoned in her own home. 
I have no home, she remembered, stumbling back when Agravaine released her. Mordred held her steady before she gained her footing and ran away, finding a secluded staircase to cry in. Flashes of Onagh in her cursed state came before her, weeping for an eternal paradise she would never find. Then the dreaded Dearg Due, whose own blood sold her and whose husband tortured her day after day until she was the monster Cara fought. She understood too well how they succumbed to the sorrow adversity brought.. What would she become if it happened to her?
"Are you ready, Percival?" Someone asked as they descended the stairs. They paused and Cara made no effort to move. A deep inhale sounded before she could hear Percival reply. 
"I'm ready, Pinel." 
"Then here, take the belladonna and find a way to pour it into Agravaine's cup. The witch said you must use every last drop or there may be a chance he'll live. Do this, cousin. For our kin, you must avenge." They continued down the steps to find Cara, creeping by her when she didn't acknowledge them. New conspiracies seemed to pop-up every day, and she'd no strength to keep up. Besides, Agravaine was a foul man; for all his charms on the surface, he was just a snake beneath. "I'll wait for you in the hall," said Pinel. He did little to acknowledge her as she did him, probably seeing no threat in her. Percival placed the vile within his doublet, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. 
"I hope I can trust you to-" She coldly waved him away with in disregard. There wasn't enough poison in the world for treacherous snakes like those in Camelot-- or even the Saxons. Percival lingered as if wanting to say something else, he did not. How easily feuds started and escalated to the most dreadful of ends. Why were hearts so easily corrupted? Why was hers? She cried again, burying her face in her hands to hide the shame she felt. 
I thought I was better, she thought, allowing all the sorrow in her heart to flood to the surface. Her burden would never be lifted, and she, an eternal husk of what she once was. The seal on her chest began to burn anew; a brighter, more brilliant light shone as she heard all too familiar words: Courage and wisdom will find a way. Percival had to be stopped, she knew. Despite the evils committed by Agravaine, his end goal was still peace. There was no time to be sad, there was never time. Returning to her room in a rush, she put on the black gown Agravaine sent her. If she was to survive she had to be smarter if possible. It was not courage that led her back to the banquet, only the desperate will to do what was right when no one else would. 
------
Merlin and Ninaine watched from the open balcony as Lancelot and Guinevere danced all through the night, looking an enchanting couple from all the most epic love stories sung by bards. Merlin didn't know why he followed Ninaine like he did, he just didn't want her to be alone. She was different than other girls he met, he chanced a glance at her scowling face. Perhaps she was most similar to Cara, but Ninaine was different to him. She was a beautiful woman in her own right; red hair as fiery as her temper, and cold blue eyes that danced when she smiled. He saw her face in his visions and couldn't tell if she was part of his destiny or if he was experiencing a stupid school-boy crush. He knew her affections for Lancelot and didn't think to have a chance next to him, but if there was any hope to comfort Ninaine he would take it. 
"I thought we would end up together," she confessed, shaking her head. "Stupid, I know. We were just so inseparable as children, I had thought.. Well, look at them," she threw up her hands in a defeated manner. "She's so perfect, how could I compare?" She turned to look out the balcony instead, looking up to the clear night sky. "You can see things, can't you? Tell me, where do I fit in all this?"
"I don't even know where I fit in," he replied honestly. He knew what he was ultimately supposed to do, but in that moment, where did he belong? 
"How did we end up here, Merlin?" Ninaine laughed. He grinned at her, agreeing they were far out of their league; a serving maid and a farm boy. "Maybe we should run away, you and I? Lets forget all this and find our own adventure. We would bring Cara of course." 
"Do we have to?" Merlin joked, Ninaine laughed again. Merlin honestly couldn't picture a life without her in it; through all the time he'd the privilege of knowing her, she became his greatest friend. For a moment he felt free at the possibility of all they could experience, perhaps they'd meet Carolan again and the four of them would scour the world looking for their fortune. The smile on his face slowly fell as the reality set in. He couldn't abandon his quest, he didn't want to. "Whatever happens, Ninaine," Merlin said in a more serious tone. "You'll always have a place with us." 
"Thank-you, Merlin." She leaned her head on his shoulder and there they stood gazing up at the stars, ignoring the lavished hall behind them. 
--------
Heads turned at the newly styled Cara, the black shimmering gown glistened in the incandescent lights in the hall. As best as she could manage, she swept up the bottom of her long dress and headed to a dark corner where she could watch for Percival. She spotted Guinevere and Lancelot, lost in a world of their own as they danced amongst the other happy couples; the king and queen included. Just beyond them Percival's cousin, Pinel le Savage (as she'd come to remember him) stood with a cup of wine. He kept a serving boy by his side to refill it constantly, the poor thing looked so nervous. Cara followed his gazed across the hall to where Agravaine stood with his brothers; a contingent of men surrounded, stopping anyone who'd talk to them. They seemed the most important people in the room, despite King Uther and Queen Ygraine's presence. With so much protection, could Percival even manage to spike his drink with the belladonna? 
The music stopped and new couples came to join the floor, Lancelot switched partners with Uther, allowing him to dance with his daughter. With the shift, Agravaine seemed to scowl at the song being played, whispering something to his brother Gaheris-- or was it Gareth? She could never tell between the twins. At the song's end one or the other walked to the band playing and made a request. The maestro nodded, not daring to refuse. With a slow tempo playing, Agravaine made his way to his cousin Guinevere, offering his hand. Agravaine ignored Lancelot's presence and led the princess to the floor with confidence. He was more graceful than anyone on the floor; a surer lead that was perfect for a princess as delicate as Guinevere. He was mesmerizing, almost breath taking. His beauty and grace hid all the evil words that laced his tongue, all the hatred in his heart. When the music ended everyone clapped for the next king of Orkney and the princess of Camelot. He shared some words with his cousin, going silent when Lancelot came behind them. His cold demeanour seemed to banish Lancelot from his side and he walked out of the hall almost angrily. Guinevere followed quickly behind her knight, sparing Agravaine little thought. When another song began to play, he made his way to his brothers who handed him his cup. All its contents were spilled not two breaths later as a clumsy serving boy pushed into him. He apologized profusely but not before his gloved hand smacked the back of his head. He held out his cup to him and the boy filled it, retreating quickly. Cara watched where the boy ran, seeing him stop at dining table sprawled out with all sorts of foods for the guests to help themselves. There, she saw his pitchers being exchanged for gold by Percival. 
She picked up her gown again, walking as quickly as she could towards Agravaine. And when she saw him drawing the cup to his lips, she called out to him. He paused when seeing her being stopped in her tracks by his men. 
"Cara?" Gawain gawked. Even the brooding Mordred looked surprised by her. Agravaine waved his men aside for her and with a passing glare, she walked right up to the soon-to-be king. 
"I knew there was more to you than meets the eye," Agravaine looked her up and down. "And what a vision you are!" 
"You look lovely," Gawain agreed. She shook her head, ignoring their compliments. They couldn't be trusted at any rate, they'd most likely say anything to get what they wanted. 
"Never mind," she said quickly. "Give me your cup, I'll get a new one." 
"No need, my dear. I've just had it filled." 
"You don't understand," she said, not wanting to cause anymore tension between Orkney and Angsley. If any of them were to find out what Percival and Pinel had planned, whatever hope they had of bringing the war to heel would be doomed. She reached for his cup then, only to be pinned back by Mordred.
"I understand you are acting suspiciously, dear. And given your distaste for me, your sudden show of loyalty gives me cause for concern." He watched her clawing to free herself from Mordred's grasp, the boy being much stronger than appeared. With a nod to his brother, he began to drag her away.
"No, no! It's poisoned-- your cup is poisoned!" She screamed. Mordred stopped-- so did the entire hall for that matter, looking to the frantic girl who reached for Agravaine. His eyes narrowed and he thought a moment. 
"Under what evidence would you make these claims?" His voice sounded off for all to hear and suddenly she wanted to bash him over the head. She was trying to save his life and there he was leading an inquisition. Instead of the violent acts she wished to commit, she shook her head. From the corner of her eye she could see Percival and Pinel edging closer to watch with the other spectators. "You are a liar." Agravaine countered when she refused him. 
"I swear it!" She assured, looking to his other brothers. To her surprise it was the youngest of the five who nodded at her words. 
"Agravaine," said Mordred, letting his hold on her slip. "Don't." Agravaine allowed a sly smile to pass and slowly extended the cup to Cara. 
"Drink," he commanded.
"Cara!" Merlin and Ninaine made their way to the front of the crowd. "What're you doing?" 
"It's okay," she sighed, smiling to her friends. She took the cup and brought it to her lips. 
"No!" Ninaine looked away as she drank it's contents deeply. The witch said you must use every last drop.. she remembered Pinel telling Percival, or there may be a chance of him surviving. By drinking the belladonna, she knew there would be no chance of surviving. At the very least she hoped it would write all the wrongs that transpired.
There may be hope for peace yet, she thought. This is what my destiny has led me to. She let the cup fall from her hands and at first she felt nothing, everyone sighed in relief, except Agravaine and Merlin. Then, the rage on his face slowly melted away in seeing her pale; pupils grew large and soon she gasped for air. Cara tumbled back, landing in Mordred's arms as all strength was lost.
"Healer!" Agravaine called, kneeling at her side. "Call a healer!" 

The court physician tried and failed to heal the girl, as well as send the occupants away from the shared room. The brothers of Orkney, the cousins of Angsley, the Pendragons, Lancelot, Lionel and of course Merlin and Ninaine stood vigil at her bedside. Uther paced back in forth asking everyone what happened over and over. 
"She was hesitant to tell me who was responsible. But the girl is a noble sort." Agravaine trailed off, looking over her with what seemed to Ninaine a new found fondness. When the court physician finally decided to tell them there was nothing to be done, Ninaine took hold of Cara's hand and sobbed. 
"I've tried everything, sire. I fear there is more to the poison than meets the eye," he explained, straightening out his glasses.
"Magick!" Dinadan rushed into the room, holding a vile high in his hand. He presented the vile to Uther, who inspected it. "I recognize the mark, sire. I think you might as well." Uther sighed, passing the vile for Agravaine to have a look.
"Carman. That witch has lingered in our forests too long."
"If magick was used then I fear it is only magick that can save her." Ninaine looked to Merlin who watched Cara's strained breath. They came out ragged; a strange sound jangled about in her throat. 
"Merlin, you can use your magick to save her." Ninaine said. They all looked to him in shock.  
"Magick?" Uther gasped. 
"Please, sire," Lancelot stepped forward quickly. "I know it's jarring to comprehend, but I owe my life and home to Merlin and his magick. He can be trusted." Uther slowly nodded, looking back to the boy.
"Not a word of this is to escape this room, does everyone understand?" They all responded with a simple: Yes, sire. And with that Uther strode out of the room with his wife and physician in tow. Merlin went straight to work, sending out the green healing light over Cara. They all watched intently as his magick was felt radiating. Some were never privy to seeing it before then. Agravaine was the first to speak.
"We must take our leave as well. If anything changes.." he cleared his throat. 
"I will send for you," Ninaine promised him. Only Percival, Pinel, Mordred, Dinadan, Lancelot and Lionel remained. Dinadan wrapped a consoling arm around Ninaine when she held a hand to her mouth in attempt to stay her weeping.
"Something's not right," Merlin said wiping sweat from his brow. "She should be better by now but.. something darker is at play here--- well beyond my power."
"The Witch's evil," said Dinadan. "Some say she's ancient; well beyond years of any human life. It's said she'd consume all the goodness in the world if ever she had the chance."
"Is it for naught?" Mordred asked. 
"This magick is too powerful, I can't do anything but keep it at bay, and I don't know how long I'll be able to do that." 
"Then we need to find this witch." Ninaine quickly began to pack a bag, wrapping herself in a cloak. 
"I fear you're right. But.. Ninaine I won't be able to go with you. If I'm not by her side she'll.." He looked away, unable to finish his sentence. Ninaine looked to Cara she was white as a sheet, the pink tint in her lips disappeared into blue; all chapped. Dark circles formed beneath her sunken eyes. "I won't be able to protect you."
"I'll go in your stead," Mordred stepped forward. Merlin looked to him reproachfully, only breaking eye contact when Dinadan laughed.
"Well said, my boy. I will go as well, between the two of us, you'll be well guarded." He promised Ninaine, who smiled gratefully. 
"I will go as well," Percival jumped quickly. "I am no knight, but Sir Dinadan, you know my strength. And Cara.." he looked to the bedridden girl. "Please let me join you." 
"We'll all go," Lancelot said. Merlin felt relieved then. He trusted Ninaine to see it through, he just doubted she would be able to stay free from harm on her own. But with the knights in her company he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. The knights all rushed off to prepare for their quest, leaving Merlin and Ninaine alone. They nodded to one another before he closed his eyes.
"Out the fields of Camelot you must ride," he explained to her. She quickly nodded, trying to memorize everything he described. "Pass the brooks and streams north, through a passage hidden between two high jagged mountains. Go deep into a dark forest filled with rot and sickness, but be careful the air is swimming with miasma.. and Sluagh's flying from the west in search of the soul's of travellers, so they may feast. There is a monster guarding the way beyond in the heart of the dead forest you'll find her hut."
With the maid and knights mounted and geared, her horse seemed to sense her impatience and shifted back and forth, raring to go.  She patted its neck, trying to settle it (and herself). They sped their way north out of Camelot, urging their mounts faster into a full gallop. The knights kept her pace, all donning their armours and respected coloured capes. They travelled all night into far fields, Ninaine refused to stop and give rest until they came to the brooks and streams. They stopped a moment, allowing their horses to drink and graze upon the surrounding grass. It was then Lancelot decided to approach Ninaine. He pulled his horse closer to hers, where she stood with her cloak pulled onto her head, gazing into the darkness of the night. Her eyes were puffy and she looked pale.
"Hello, Lancelot." She greeted him blandly.
"You must rest," he said. "I've never seen you like this."
"Cara is my friend, I don't know how I got along without her. I can't lose her now. I can't go back to being alone."
"I'm sorry I was not there for you." She had no family left to speak of and when Lancelot and her drifted apart she would take the only company she could find in the form of men seeking her affection. That included Claudas. But when Merlin and Cara came to Joyous Guard, they not only freed Lancelot but her as well. A different path was shown to her and suddenly she didn't feel so insignificant. The entire ordeal had even brought Lancelot and Ninaine back together. Cara, as well as Merlin, were her friends; her family.
"I won't let her die, Lancelot." Their quiet consolation of each other was broken when shouting erupted from behind. Mordred knocked Percival to the ground and began to strike him with his fists until Dinadan and Lionel tore Mordred away. Percival laid on the floor, making no attempt to retaliate.
"What is the meaning of this?" Lancelot and Ninaine made their way back.
"Tell them, snake!" Mordred yelled, still being held by the two knights. Ninaine glanced to the would-be knight, whose guilty face revealed everything. She was filled with a sudden fury, only taking to balling her fists to stay her hand.
"The poison wasn't meant for her-- I feel so awful about everything, I thought by telling you.." Percival explained weakly, looking to Mordred who fought to free himself from Dinadan and Lionel.
"You'll pay!" Mordred yelled, his youth finally showing in his undisciplined anger.
"That serving boy told me it was one of our own," Dinadan said sadly. "I didn't want to believe it was you." 
"My brother and father... both were stolen from me. My sorrow kept me chained to my bed." Mordred became less tense at Percival's words, slightly lowering his fists. "I convinced myself Orkney was to blame." he looked to Mordred, who then avoided his gaze.
"You believed Agravaine was behind their murders," Lionel deduced. Percival nodded.
"Cara saw me and I tried to threaten her.. and still she protected me. Nothing I say can change what happened, but I want to apologize to you all. I want to save Cara. She's shown me kindness more than once and I want to repay her." He looked all of them in the eye. "I am sorry," he said finally. Mordred freed himself from Dinadan. Percival was right in his grief and he'd every right to do what he did. 
"When you become a knight of Camelot, we will be shield brothers." Mordred extended his arm. "I owe Cara a debt, and we will save her." With glistening eyes, Percival gratefully clasped his hand with Mordred's.
"We will save her," he agreed. Both men promised to keep it a secret from their families. Ninaine watched sadly, not wanting to forgive him just then. "They used tears of grief and anger--hatred is what the belladonna was soaked and crushed in," he explained as they continued to gallop towards the mountains hiding the passage to the forbidden forest. It was narrow and winding, seemingly endless; the exit cloaked in darkness. The winds of the passage seemed to carry a heavy air; mourning the lost travellers who once dared to brave it before them. Ninaine brought her cloak closer to her neck, shuddering against the cold of the night.
For Cara, she thought, settling her nerves. 
-------
Merlin spent half an hour slowing the poison, and the other half was spent regaining his magical strength to begin once more. The poison only seemed to grow stronger as timed passed. Sometimes when his eyes threatened to close, she'd begin another fit of convulsions. Fatigue quickly forgotten, he'd pin her down and told her she wasn't alone. He only hoped she could hear him. At some point he was rejoined by Agravaine and his other brothers who tried settling Merlin by telling stories and jokes. Merlin simply nodded, not actually paying attention to a thing they said. Pinel le Savage, a knight of Angsley who wasn't known for his courtesy, came at one point to offer his condolences as though she was sure to perish. Merlin glowered at that, refusing the thought altogether. Pinel looked upon her, a sorrow cast over him. He excused himself quickly, offering one last word of apology. Agravaine watched the knight leave suspiciously. 
"She is so young.." Gawain mused aloud as he too, looked upon her. 
"We will be grateful for her, forever," the twins added. Agravaine placed a hand upon their shoulders and looked to Merlin assuringly.
"Know Cara has friends in us. She will always find a home in Orkney," he promised. Merlin smiled slightly.
----------
Dawn broke through the darkness of the night. Though sunny, very little of the rays breached the old trees of the forest; they were too tall and thick, spreading far with their connecting branches. They did well to block out any form of light. Dead leaves fluttered to the dark floor like ashes from a volcano. The air was thick and sickly, and Ninaine feared they'd suffocate in its stagnancy. A chill spread throughout her entire body. She imagined it was the forest as everyone else seemed to shiver just as hard. The horses grew more fearful trotting further into it's heart, whinnying nervously every so often. Their heads bobbed in anxiety, Ninaine's horse even tried to flee out the way they came. 
"How much farther, Ninaine?" Dinadan asked in a voice that shook from the cold. So chilled were they then that a cloud of mist formed from each breath. Without replying, she could see to the right of her Mordred's horse coming to a complete halt. The stallion turned in circles grunting and pacing nervously. Mordred looked befuddled and despite his efforts, the horse threw its front legs into the air in a panic, letting out a cry. The poor young knight could not hold on fast enough and in its suddenness, went crashing to the floor. The stallion sped off into the forest and soon enough the other horses went following (all quite in the same manor). Ninaine groaned, wondering what spooked them. Then they all heard it: the sound of distant screams coming from the west.
"Get down!" Ninaine screamed, remembering Merlin's vision. The sluagh's approached from the west. They fell flat on the floor in haste, ducking their heads. A rush of wind came towards them, blowing away the stagnant air they were breathing. It'd have come as a relief had they not known danger riding on its back. Soon the sound of screams descended o'er head. What little light the sun provided was snuffed out completely. Ninaine could feel the cold fingers of the sluagh brush against her cloak, only just missing their chance to steal her soul. They laid there as the horde swept over them, laying still even when they'd gone. Dinadan was the first to rise.
"It's alright now," he said to the others. They all stood hesitantly, Ninaine feeling she could not support herself from her shaking legs. Lancelot held her up as she calmed, letting out a breath. With their horses gone, they'd have to cover twice as much ground. They cut through bushes of vines riddled with thorns, it seemed to them that the only living things in the forest were that of which wanted them dead.
"Tell me we won't have to face something as terrible as the sluagh's," Lionel pleaded with a shiver at their mere memory. Ninaine stiffened, remembering the beast Merlin mentioned that guarded the way. They all stopped in their tracks coming upon it in a sparser area of wood, trees collapses around the great monstrosity. Lancelot grabbed Ninaine's hand and drew Joyeux. 
The beast was an abomination; a snakes head snapped their way when becoming aware of their presence, letting out a great hiss. It stood tall on it's hooved body, stamping on the black dirt, drawing puffs of dust as it prepared to stampede towards them. It's strange lion-like haunch shook in preparation. The other knights drew their blades as well, readying for the battle that was to ensue. Lancelot shoved Ninaine to the side out of the beast's line of fire. He stepped forward and brought his blade up, taking his stance. With another hiss the beast whirled towards them, the sound of its hooves thundered against the tightly packed earth. They felt the ground shake beneath them as it drew closer. 
"Steady!" Lancelot called to the others. Ninaine took several steps back, keen on not burdening them further by playing damsel-in-distress. How on earth were they to defeat such an abomination with such little time to spare? Cara needed her to finish the quest quickly and she daren't think what would happen if they didn't make it in time. Lancelot and Dinadan twirled out of the way. Lionel dragged Percival to the other side, the squire was still slow in reaction. Mordred rolled beneath the beast, landing directly behind it. He took the opportunity to slash at its lion-haunch. It's snake head reached into the sky, letting loose a painful shriek. Mordred had little time to celebrate, avoiding it's back leg.
"Well done!" Dinadan called, thrusting his sword down the beast's side. "Percival, distraction!" Percival did as Dinadan bid, swinging his sword wildly and yelling to gain it's attention. 
"Over here, you over-sized worm!" The snake snapped it's fangs only just missing as Percival lunged to the side, sliding ungraciously. He rolled out from the beasts hooves threatening to stamp him into oblivion. Lancelot and Lionel both ran towards each side of its body, stabbing into it. Purple ooze flowed from wound they managed to puncture. It steamed and hissed as it burned into the ground. In its veins flowed acid. Lionel yelped, stepping back in horror at the sight of his blade melting down to the hilt. Mordred looked to his blade as well which had considerably thinned. While Percival was distracted, the beast took the chance to attack all the knights.
"Look out!" Ninaine screamed in warning. Percival was thrown into the trunk of a rotting tree and struggled to stand again. The beast then rounded on Lionel, striking him down with its front hooves. Once on the floor it readied to stamp on him, fortunately Mordred thrust the last of his sword into its haunch just before anything could happen. Dinadan pulled Lionel away.
"Go check on Percival!" Without a weapon to defend himself, Lionel did as he was told. Mordred and Lancelot regrouped, keeping their eyes on the beast.
"We still have a chance so long as our weapons are kept intact." The young knight said, dodging it's attacks alongside his only abled companions. Dinadan struck at the beast again, the last of his blade eaten away.
"My sword isn't melting." Lancelot flashed Joyeux to Mordred. Joyeux shimmered beneath the thick blood of the beast that glazed off as if water. Mordred gaped at it in wonder.
"How is that possible?"
"It is the blade of my ancestors. Blessed by god.. and magick," explained Lancelot. He tugged a shocked Mordred out of the way of the snapping snake-head. Percival rejoined the battle, standing at their side.
"What do we do?" Dinadan and Lionel had no swords left to fight with. Ninaine could do naught at all to help, and Percival was a squire, but he could still be of use. 
"Lord Lancelot, Percival. I've a plan." Mordred spoke, dodging a blow once more. They were attentive as he explained. "I will divert its attention. It won't be for long," he ducked under the snakes jaw. "But it will be just enough time for Percival to strike at its neck. Lancelot-" He looked to him, who nodded. His plan was understood and they were all behind each other. They were swift in their execution. Ninaine, breathing heavily, watched the younger knights work. Mordred ran towards the beast, lunging out of its way. It's focus stuck on him as he weaved away from its strikes. Percival ran to flank it, sliding on his knees and stabbing the rest of his sword deeply into it's scaly neck. He dragged the sword along until it ripped out of its other side, running from the acid that followed. It howled, head bowing to grab Percival in its jaws; painfully slow, it missed the squire by a mile. Lancelot scaled up the lowest point of its body and gripped on as it tried to throw him off its back. It jumped wildly in every-which-way, trying to send Lancelot flying; like a rider breaking a horse's spirit. With a gripped hand, he lifted Joyeux. It gleamed, emitting it's own source of light; the power of the blade vibrated. With a great battle cry his sword came crashing down at it's nape. The weight of thousands of hands atop of Lancelot's added to the blow, lending him the strength to strike clean through. The beast fell limp as soon as the head was severed. They were victorious. Small smiles formed in a brief celebration before their sobering reality was remembered. 
"Let's go," said Dinadan. They continued on, stumbling through thick bushes of thorns. When they found their way to a wall of mighty trees.
"Are you sure this is the way?" asked Lionel, not seeing a way through. Ninaine, seeing nowhere else to go, walked forward. Within seconds the trees shifted with loud groans of their decayed wood, revealing a path. In the distance the witch's hut could be seen. It was made of the same black bark of the dead trees; the roof constructed of twigs and straw. Outside a large cauldron was being put to work over a fire. Smoke bubbled from the concoction as a wooden ladle stirred round and round on it's own.
"Come on," Ninaine urged. They walked for minutes and felt they weren't getting closer at all. Frustrated and confused, Ninaine picked up her pace, dragging Lancelot and Lionel behind. With her pace quickened and her strides lengthened, she felt a feeling of dread wash over her. The sight of the hut moved farther and farther away.
"You'll never reach it like that, dearie," a high raspy voice startled the company. The knights would've drawn their swords had they not melted. An old woman sat on the ground with a basket laying on her lap. She smiled a near-toothless grin causing them all to reel back.
"Are you the witch that made a poison meant for Lord Agravaine?" Dinadan asked. The woman sucked on one of her last teeth.
"I make plenty of poisons as I make plenty of cures. Who they are used for is none of my concern, so long as I am paid my due." She scratched her balding head. "Are you interested in buying a poison?"
"Never," Dinadan bristled. The old witch scowled and stood, gripping her basket filled with herbs.
"Shame. It's a wonder why you've come, if not for my wares." She staggered by the knights. Ninaine stopped the old witch, grabbing her arm. "Careful, pretty," warned the crone.
"Please, my friend…" The old woman cackled loudly; a cruel sound. She knew well the crone was callous and would not work without reward. Yet, there was nothing they could offer the witch. "I'll give you anything." The witch paused and rubbed her chin, thumbing over the stubble that grew.
"Anything?" She cackled again. Ninaine nodded. The witch grinned, setting down her basket and walked towards the hut. The company hesitated, their distrust pushed aside from the pressure of Cara's approaching demise. The witch stretched her hand out and gripped at the air, and when once the door of the hut seemed a far off ways, its knob rested in her hand. She opened the door, inside, herbs were hung to dry from the ceiling. A sour smell emanated from all about; of incense and something else. They watched her closely, ever vigilant in her actions. The witch hobbled over to a large wooden bowl, dipping a black spoon into it contents. She smacked her lips as she tasted whatever it was sitting inside, letting out a content sigh.
Suddenly, the dust on the floor swirled about her ripped woollen skirts, engulfing her entirely. The winds stirred wildly within the hut, so much so that they were forced to shield their faces from the various items strewn about the hut. When the dust settled, they blinked out tears, freeing them from any debris that hindered their sight. All were taken aback in seeing a young woman standing in place of the once old and haggard crone. The witch to smiled.
"How funny," her voice was smooth and angelic, "to see that you find this appearance more frightening than the last." Ninaine stepped forward, eager to conclude their business. "Your face, give it to me." She ordered. Ninaine brought her hand up unconsciously to her cheek, looking bemused. "This young face I wear is such a bore, I've had it for centuries. Yours is much prettier. Give it to me, I'll do what you ask after." She pulled out an athame from the sleeve of her dress.
"Very well," Ninaine agreed.
"You can't!" Dinadan cried.
"You mustn't trust her," agreed Lionel. The witch scowled bitterly.
"The choice is not yours to make." Ninaine agreed as she offered the witch her hand. 
"Do what you will." Without reserve, the witch pricked Ninaine's finger, catching the blood on the athame.
"Just a drop," she smiled, tilting the blade over her bowl until it settled in the mix. A small puff of smoke was released and with that it was done. They were almost disappointed with the lack of show. "Thank-you." Ninaine nodded as she sucked on her bleeding finger, ignoring the greedy look the witch cast to her bowl. She looked as if she was starving to gobble everything in it.
"You made a poison," Percival pulled out a vile. The witch laughed and snatched it from his hands with alarming speed, uncorking it to smell. 
"Ah, I remember this one.. There was so much anger. So much pain poured into it; a joy to create." Mordred shook his head in disgust. 
"That is all well and good, but we need an antidote," replied Lancelot.
"Was my client not pleased with the result?"
"The result would have been fantastic, I suspect, if it was taken by the right person." Mordred spat, causing the witch to cackle by the revelation.
"My magick is quite potent, I should suspect whoever drank the belladonna is long dead now."
"She is alive!" Ninaine thought of Merlin using his magick to keep her alive as long as he could. 
"Very well," she obliged after passing a long look of contemplation. She pulled various leaves of the hanging plants around the hut. Pushing aside the knights to grab the ones needed. They were thrown and grounded into a wooden mortar as she chanted words they couldn't hope to understand. Once the herbs were fine enough, she threw them into a jar of clear oil and stirred it together to mix.
"Is that it?" asked Percival as he reached for the mix. She slapped his hand with a twinkle in her eye.
"There is one thing. The thing that poisons her the most does not take physical form. It will have to be counteracted."
"She was poisoned by hate.." Dinadan explained, understanding. 
"Will your love be strong enough to cure her, pretty?" Ninaine nodded.
"I love her." And it was true. Never had she taken to someone as quickly as she did Cara. She, who was filled with such hope and strived to meet her daunting destiny with a courage she'd not known before. Ninaine could only remember Cara, looking so lovely in that black gown, drinking the poisoned wine for a man she seemed to dislike and fear. The witch stole the tear into the jar Ninaine hadn't realized escaped. The once muddied herbal tincture glowed and cleared into a bright blue colour. The kind you would see the sky take form on the sunniest of days, where no clouds could be found. The witch peered into the jar, looking almost disgusted. She inhaled it and her eyes shone dimly. "You must make haste, Merlin is struggling… and the girl's will is slipping," she warned. They would've been baffled at how she knew who they sought to aid but her words were true; they were pressed for time. She closed the jar and handed it to Ninaine, pushing them all out of the hut. "You've such a great destiny, Ninaine. Watch for Arthur's coming." And with that, she shut the door in their faces. They turned to look back at the rotting forest, where all their horses waited patiently hobbled to nearby trees. Pleasantly surprised, they mounted and took off full speed back to Camelot.

Several days passed since Ninaine and the knights banded together in a successful effort to heal Cara. When she awoke from the blackness that held her, she found herself surrounded by people she hadn't thought she'd ever see again. Merlin, Ninaine, Lancelot.. Even the brothers of Orkney stood relieved beside Percival and Pinel. In the time between she found everything seemed too peaceful and perfect to be reality. Ninaine and Merlin never left her side, constantly filling her silence with idle chatter. Though she wished to enjoy it she knew it wouldn't last and from the secret brooding looks Merlin tried to hide, she knew he felt it as well. 
One night he woke her, sitting at her side as he looked down with sad eyes. He told her of his dreams: The moon was at it highest and brightest. A moth silently fluttered, glowing in the great moon's light. It danced amongst scattering white petals that drifted in the night winds; elder trees shed their leaves. Through the canopies, beams of moonlight pierced into the darkness of a forest. If one were to travel further, they might've heard the cries and shrieks of a creature in pain, longing to gaze up to the vast yonder. The moth drifted further, following the moonbeams deeper as if leading the way towards the bellowing cries. Once out of the forest, a blinding light pierced all vision. There, the lovely moth found itself in an open field and beyond it a river calm, silent yet ever moving. Rising high above was a hillock with a great fort perched at its centre, four tower battlements sat at it's base. The moth circled a white-thorn tree near the river side, tombstones could be seen not far off. Gracefully, it flew to the top of a hidden stone wall encircling the entirety of the hillock. Guards were placed along it, watching vigilantly with pained expressions. More than likely they were disturbed from the ever steady cries heard. Onward it went, slipping in-between the crack of a cell which contained a jester. Though jesters were meant to be jovial and high-spirited, this one was not. It was plain to see the chains harnessing him to the cold damp walls, riddled with mould and cobwebs. He shivered constantly, despite him hugging all his limbs close. He was much too preoccupied by his sorrows to be bothered by the tiny moth fluttering through the thick iron bars of the cell. Ignoring all the bright lights of torches strategically set along the corridor walls, the moth came upon a hall. A disgruntled king sat at a wooden table alone (save for his steward serving drinks). He seemed a man with a purpose, perhaps, once-upon-a-time, he'd been a hero. The mad king plugged his ears and shut his eyes tight, screaming at the top of his lungs for the cries to yield. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything his men could do. The moth continued it's search into a hidden room where a dusty old well laid. The cries echoed from its depths. Deep into darkness it plunged and far from the moon in which it bathed. The moth would stop for nothing, not even death could claim it, not until it was done. It descended, falling gracefully like the first snow on a winters day until the cries sounded clearly. In the centre of darkness only the moth could be seen glowing pure, and catching it's light a shimmer glistened, first one, than many thereafter. The moon and the stars, reunited then in the far reaches of the cold earth. The cries ceased as two great eyes followed the moth dancing and performing for the broken-hearted creature. This was it's goal. To soothe all sorrow; to quell its pain if only for a little while. It weaved and zig-zagged, flying in no particular direction. In its final moments, the moth landed gently on the snout of the tortured and fluttered its wings one last time; like a final bow before exiting the stage. The moth said its farewells and bid the creature a happily ever after. Realizing it was alone once more, pain panged in it's great scaled chest. The creature stretched its neck up to the opening of the well, not able to reach it. It stretched it's leathery wings as far as the surrounding dome would allow and cried once more. 
Save me.. it prayed silently. 
Cara and Merlin's time together came to an end after his path was shown. And even though she promised to be with him wherever he may go, he was certain her path laid in Camelot. She trusted him entirely.
"I love you," Ninaine placed a hand to her cheek, telling her she felt her destiny lay beyond Camelot as well. "Did you know that?" 
"I love you as well," Cara made a rare declaration and with a heavy heart she said farewell to both Merlin and Ninaine. They left in the dead of night, barely looking back. And thankful she was for it, for she feared if they had she'd never let them go. With her greatest supporters no longer at her side, she stole herself into the barracks located out on the training fields. She took a sword and swung it all through the night and straight into the morning, ignoring the glances of the knights who'd come to practice as she had. Dinadan found her later in the day, coming with a curious Lionel and Percival in tow. Without hesitation, Percival stood at her side and swung as well, falling in sync with her movements. 
"Take a wider stance," Dinadan instructed them both. "You're too stiff." Their days continued on as such. Cara dedicating every waking moment to sword play, impressing Dinadan greatly with her quick advancement. And Lancelot dedicated his time to Guinevere, who tried to speak more to Cara about the man in question. Unfortunately for the princess, she was in no mood to gossip about romance. Percival and Dinadan had proven themselves to be her greatest companions in those times. A proper friendship formed as they found themselves jesting while training, even teaching her the knights code of chivalry. She memorized everything, searing it into her heart.
One day, Dinadan came to them with pointers regarding their strengths and weaknesses. Percival and Cara were weak at handling shields and both shared little interest in learning how to properly put one to use. So, Dinadan assigned them each different weapons. For Percival, his standard broadsword was stripped and replaced with a longsword. It was newly forged especially for him as his strength was strength itself. One blow from him would pulverize any foe. Percival held his new sword, thumbing over his father's insignia, sure Dinadan designed it so. He thanked his mentor until his tongue went numb. The old knight simply laughed before sending him along to practice his new drills. Cara was also stripped of her broadsword and was then given two daggers. They were plain in design, only a single ruby rested in each hilt. She hugged the old knight in thanks. Lancelot came to join them, alongside Lionel later in the day. Guinevere was nowhere to be found. He seemed to glow since the last time Cara had seen him. Lionel went off to speak with Percival and Dinadan, leaving Cara alone with Lancelot.
"You look well," her eyes narrowed, wondering what had him in such a good mood.
"I feel great," he admitted.
"Where's Princess Guinevere? I thought for sure you two were joined at the hip."
"Is it that noticeable?" His smile fell, looking about him. No one paid them any mind, the men grew used to seeing her sweat like a mule alongside them. "I have to tell you something." She scrunched her face up in annoyance, letting her shoulders sag. 
"What did you do?" She said accusatorially. He explained that the night of the banquet he'd been drinking heavily. He felt slighted by Agravaine's cold demeanour towards him and stormed off, Guinevere followed after him. 
"That night we.." She held up a hand, stopping him. She didn't need to hear anymore; didn't want to. And it was dangerous information to share out in the open. She knew he'd come to care greatly for Guinevere. However, many people would frown upon their hasty decisions. What would become of any of them if Uther were to find out? "Cara," he shook his head. "She's with child." Without realizing it, she'd begun to strike Lancelot with her hands over and over, shouting about what an idiot he'd been. Slowly, they'd drawn a crowd. All the knights laughed as they looked on at Cara's relentless discipline against her friend who took it like man. It was only when someone cleared their throat did she stop. 
Sir Ector, another senior knight of Camelot, stood with Mordred at his side who raised a curious brow to Cara. He looked amused at the sight. She hadn't seen him or his brothers since being cured. Though she knew they were still in Camelot working out the terms of the treaty. Ector's face lacked any such amusement. He'd been a knight she particularly disliked. He often took pleasure in berating his squire, once even Cara came upon him beating the stable boy for a mistake. To add to that, he often took to speaking poorly of Cara to the other knights while she was present. Percival would only pull her away to avoid any conflict she'd choose to pursue. He looked around at the knight's, calling for their attention. They all stood tall at his command, listening intently.  
"Knights of Camelot," he said. "I bring you news from your king. Reports have come to us of a nearby encampment of druids. This report here," he held up a rolled parchment. "Tells of the possible location." 
"Right beneath our noses?" Dinadan shook his head while the other knights looked disturbed. 
"I am to lead a contingent of men to deal with them. Though I cannot promise those who volunteer for the task safe return, for I do not know what we might face." He looked at every one of them. "Who would ride with me?" 
"I will," Mordred said straight away. 
"I'd not stay behind either," Dinadan offered. Various men began to sound off at their lead, and Cara became familiar with them all. 
Sir Leon, Sir Morhalt... Sir Lucan and Bedivere-- they're brothers, she reminded herself. Sir Kay, she tilted her head in thought. Though sired by Ector, Kay was gentler in his ways; kind even. 
"I'd like to go," she stepped forward, that old calling came from with. It would not be ignored. The men laughed but she looked to Dinadan with pleading eyes. He seemed to fall for her trick and looked to Ector who rolled his own. 
"She'll only be a burden," Ector replied, getting his men to agree. 
"I won't! Please, Sir Dinadan. You've seen me, I know I can help." The old knight looked torn; unfamiliar frown deepened when Percival begged to come alongside her. Ector sneered, continuing his petition to leave them behind.
"I'll watch them," Mordred offered. With a tired sigh Ector yielded, ordering those who volunteered to ready their gear. Mordred gave what Cara could barely make out to be a smile before he went to ready himself.
"That was.. kind of him," Cara said, puzzled by the gesture. 
"He's not so bad," Percival shrugged.
"Are you insane?" Lancelot grabbed Cara's arm, pulling her aside. Not wanting to get between their conflict, Percival dismissed himself. "You've only just escaped one bout with death, now you go rushing into another?"
"You're one to talk. I can't believe you'd put yourself in that situation." He quickly silenced, a stony look passed his face as he watched Cara stubbornly turn her nose away from him. He stormed off soon after.
------------
Nary a word was spoken between the two since leaving Camelot. Though it was not for want of subject, there were many things that could have been said but their silence was a comfortable one, wherein they found refuge.They travelled a long way though still not much closer to the place they sought. After a few days the harsh rains of fall came pouring down, bringing forth the cold. The days became drearier still, only offering the brown and grey colourings of the season. The roads thinned and twisted until they disappeared completely. The flat lands of the farms and plains near Camelot vanished along with them. The terrain slowly formed into vast hills that became difficult to climb; rains and inclines working together to make their journey more harrowing. With no shelter in sight, they chose to sleep at the top of the highest mound found. They were lucky the rains chose to rest then. With their bedrolls laid out side by side, they stared out into the infinite sky. 
Merlin spoke all  through the night, retelling the tale of the sidhe and Carolan, leading into what would be the tale of the Dearg Due and the little people. Ninaine laughed when admitting Cara had told her a different, much more fanciful version of the tale. One in which she was the sole hero. He laughed along with her, knowing Cara would spin it in her favour. They both cherished that night, chatting till they could no longer will their eyes open. 
It wasn't long thereafter they stumbled upon the forest the moth in Merlin's vision travelled by. By day it seemed far less intimidating, though he still feared what they might encounter. As they walked through the forest Merlin would look to the canopies, trying to remember where each moonbeam fell. Every so often, Ninaine would have to pull him to keep him crashing into a bush. Or keep a bush from crashing into Merlin, as he liked to correct. They traversed the forest for many days. At one point Merlin feared that he might've lost his way. It was moments like that where Ninaine took charge of the situation. During those times she'd simply sit them both down and break open their food rations, snacking even on nuts and wild berries they'd found along the way and drink water from their animal skins. It calmed Merlin well enough. There they sat for a time, wondering again which way to go. One was easily turned upside down in the forest, especially one so unfamiliar. 
"Pst," they heard. Each thinking it'd come from the other, they looked on at each other expectantly.
"What?" Ninaine laughed, thinking he was playing a prank.
"That wasn't you?" When realizing they hadn't been alone, they looked around for the source of the beckon. Ninaine pointed to a thick thorn bush where the haunch of a goat stuck out. It legs kicked and stamped, struggling to free itself from the sharp clutches of the plant. They rushed, trying to free the poor goat by each grabbing a side and yanking with all their might. As they worked hard on the animal, its other half finally sprang out. It wasn't a half they expected; part goat and part man. Merlin noticed the little horns sprouting from his head.
"Boo!" He yelled and Ninaine screeched, falling to the floor. Merlin jumped while clutching at his chest, face blanching from the sudden surprise. The strangely jovial creature stamped down on his goat legs multiple times as he bleated out a hard laugh at their expense. Ninaine sprang up and inspected the creature, circling with an expression that could only be written as awe. The creature smirked smugly, crossing his arms and allowing her to take him in. 
"Merlin, what is it?" She asked, unbelieving at what stood before her. Merlin had yet to gather his wits and so the creature took it upon itself to respond.
"I am an urisk, thank-you very much!"
"What were you doing, Sir Urisk, with your head in a thorn bush?" Ninaine continued her polite queries, very much excited to encounter a mythical creature. 
"Why, I wanted to scare you of course!" It bleated in laughter once again. "And, it would seem that I have seen out my task. Fare thee well now, humans! And safe travels! Ta-ta!" He shook his stubby tail and began to trot off, hooves clacking against pebble and stone.
"A moment, Sir Urisk! If you would!" Merlin called after the half-man half-goat. The creature, in very high spirits turned to indulge them further. "You wouldn't happen to know a way through the forest? Or where there might also be a hill of sorts with a fort at its top?" They were cold in the autumn weather, even with their woollen cloaks. The urisk thought a moment and when he came to a conclusion he gave his fingers a sharp snap.
"Now that you mention it, my home hides beneath a waterfall; the river runs to such a place! Though, I know not why you'd wish to go there, it is a bleak place after all. Not at all like my home," he boasted.
"Would you mind taking us there, dear urisk?" It hadn't taken much coaxing to get him to agree. They'd only sacrificed a plum in exchange for his guidance.
"I am very hungry you know," he said while swallowing the fruit whole. Off he took them through places they'd have rather avoided. When they protested about the muddiness of his paths, the urisk simply shook his haunch and tail with a satisfied smile, explaining how he enjoyed the squishy sensation beneath his hooves (which he affectionately referred to as stompers). Though they much suspected the cheeky blighter enjoyed seeing their struggle, laughing again when Ninaine was forced to fish out her sunken boot. Merlin thought him a wicked thing, though good company all the same. He regaled all the tricks he pulled on other travellers he'd encountered before. They walked for quite a time and for a moment Merlin believed him to have led them in circles.
"We've passed through here several times," Merlin grumbled, pointing out a stone in the shape of a heart. The urisk waved it's hand as if banishing Merlin's worries. 
"All stones are shaped like hearts here!"
"No, they're not!" Merlin kicked a rather ordinary rock in front of the creature, proving his point.
"Merlin's right," Ninaine picked another one up. "Some look like stars, did you notice?"
"A keen eye you have!" The urisk and Ninaine both laughed when Merlin turned an alarming shade of red in his anger. He kept quiet after, letting the urisk lead them along his silly paths. Ninaine seemed to be enjoying herself at any rate. "Here we are!" He said at last, holding the hedges for them like an opened door. 
"Thank you for leading us." Ninaine gave the creature a quick curtsey, offering the remnants of her lunch. He accepted eagerly, breathing onto the fruit before shining it on his fur. 
Merlin pointed out each place he saw in his dream through the eyes of the fluttering moth; each sensation and sound felt once more. They crossed the shallow river and walked beneath the very same white-thorn tree it'd circled. They heard it then---felt it even, the earth beneath them shook. The cry of the great beast, locked away beneath the hillock. Ninaine clung to Merlin until the crying ceased; a dragon. They continued forward until the walls of the blockaded entry to the fort were reached.
"Who comes?" A guard from above the gate called, sounding slightly annoyed that they'd visitors.
"Merlin. Please, let us up," he sounded simply. They both heard the guard mutter, disappearing behind the high rising blocks of stones. "Alright, Merlin. We'll leave it to King Lludd to decide if you're welcome." He disappeared once more but they could hear him order his comrades to open the gate. The pull chains were loud as their gears ground together. It groaned in protest, not accustomed to being used. The gates lowered just barely missing their toes as a small splash of mud was pushed from beneath. Once inside, they were then led off by another, the grass below grew in patches, overflowing with water. Their boots filled, leaving them wondering how any of the men could stand it. Camp sites were built upon the driest patches of land found, which were few and far between. Some men worked to mend their torn tents and the others stood watch along the walls. Fires were put up for warmth though it proved to be insufficient. Their eyes were trained upon Merlin and Ninaine, and they well suspected it was to the same for their arrows. The doors to the fort were held open and the man who led the two waved them in.
"Follow the screams," was all he said before walking back. Merlin was the first to continue onward, ignoring the inner decor of the citadel, having only one goal in mind: to free the dragon. Had he paid attention, he might've realized just how ancient it all looked. Paintings of old kings lined the halls; a blood line of nobility long since passed, right to the empty armours far too large and clunky to be efficient in battle. Outdated banners representing kings, lords and dukes long since passed. Sure enough, an incessant amount of shouting was heard throughout the halls. They located the source quickly. With double doors held wide open, a long wooden table was set in the hall. It reached far back into the room and at its head sat the very man who'd been shouting. A large amount of food was set as if for a banquet. He wore a simple golden crown that weaved like laurels sewn together. Small blue gemstones were placed artistically around, shimmering in the candlelight. The man's face was red and wrinkled (most of which were covered by his beard), his forehead sprouting veins that bulged as he yelled louder and louder to his steward.
"When? When will it all end?" He cried, and the steward could only bow his head. They hadn't noted Merlin and Ninaine's entry as they set their sights on large ripe grapes, begging to be eaten. Ninaine held out her hand to pluck one from its vine, only to be frightened into stillness by the screeching of a chair. The king stood, realizing he'd visitors. 
"Who are you?" Merlin bowed his head, allowing Ninaine to curtsy before answering his question.
"I am Merlin, the seer." The king repeated his name over and over to himself, as if remembering such a name from long before.
"A seer you say?" Some of the tension alleviated when he'd asked. Merlin gave a slow nod. "Can you see anyone's future, Merlin?"
"I may even look into the past, your grace." The king slowly sat once more.
"You may sit, and you may eat your fill." He spread out his arms to point at either chairs at his side. They both took hesitant steps until they reached their appointed seats, only beginning to eat when he nodded. "Have you a reason for coming here?"
"I had a vision," Merlin said honestly.
'The verme,' the king replied. Again, Merlin nodded.
------------
Dinadan helped her onto the saddle of her horse. Lancelot foolishly elected to take his place on the journey in worry for Cara.
"Remember your drills I taught you and stay close to Percival. Look out for one another and you should be fine." Dinadan patted the haunch of her horse sending it trotting forward. He was very much like a father to her and Percival, fretting over them the way he did. She waved goodbye and joined Lancelot and Mordred as they followed the other knights towards their destination.
"Nervous?" Lancelot asked only received a shrug in return. 
"You'll be fine. I'm sure of it," Mordred assured her with a nod, which she gratefully returned. Lucan and Ector conversed ahead, doing little to conceal their discussion. 
"Do you believe these druids to be dangerous, Sir Ector?" Lucan asked. Ector gave a grunt in response as though Lucan was daft to even question it, let alone think it.
"Of course they are!" The older, rounder knight nearly spat. "The druid folks claim to be nothing but endorsers of peace. But the devil will say anything to lead you to hell." Ector pulled a cross from within his mahogany doublet, and placed a gentle kiss on it through his scruffy thick beard. 
"Who is he to judge?" Cara bristled. By what evidence did he tend to make such a claim? Cara had only ever heard stories of the people, a lot of mystery surrounded the nomadic group but never had she heard an evil thing committed by them. "By what authority?" She fumed silently, ignoring the encouraging words Lancelot tried to give her. Nothing would soothe her growing distaste for Ector. 
"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live," Mordred offered plainly, seeming unperturbed by it all. "As knights we must honour the code, and the guidance found in the good-book. Their sins are such in which they practice magick."  
"And what of your sins?" She countered, earning an almost hurt look from the knight. Cara knew that at the end of all things those who truly had sinned would meet their judgment. Even she would be faced with all her misdeeds..

They travelled far along a winding way where the gravel road disappeared, and the green of the pastures and distant tree's slowly began reclaiming their territory. They took no time to rest and despite Cara feeling her rear was bruised and sore, taking much abuse from the ride- so much so it went numb. Her leg cramped, her back ached, and the scenery never changing. They'd entered farm lands, and for miles and miles in every-which-way all she could see were crops of the same kind. Wheat, barley, potatoes. Percival seemed to be in the same state as she, wearing a solemn face and ignoring the conversations taking place. The two only wanted to be done with the task, perhaps when all was said and done Percival would gain a proper knighthood.

Sir Ector held up a hand, halting the company of knights. Cara sighed thankfully, thinking they were to stop and rest. Instead, he signalled to turn off-road and onto the fields, straight into the surrounding forest. Cara had recognized the very one, having been the same they travelled by to get to Camelot. Off they trotted, not stopping for food or rest. Lancelot made sure to hand her some dried meat which seemed a whole feast to her then. It was midday by the time they approached the forest, the sun was nowhere to be found; only rainclouds were casted o'er head, threatening them with a storm to come at any given moment.

"We cannot continue, should rain fall," said Mordred in a low voice. He'd been trying to make conversation the whole way which was out of character for the ever-silent boy. Mordred was right, Cara could see it. The ground beneath them was already dangerously too soft for the horses to tread on. Should a storm had chosen to plague them (which was a sure thing at that point), their horses would sink straight into the ground. Even if they continued on foot, they wouldn't get far. The trees were thick with many branches, and they could only imagine the sort of animals that called the forest their home. Cara agreed, noticing how Mordred's jaw jutted while he clenched his teeth. From nervousness or irritation, it was indecipherable.

Finally, Ector stopped the company in the most spacious area they could find in the thicket. High in the canopies they could hear the chirping of birds, it was suspected they were living directly beneath a favourite roosting area. Ector assigned Percival and Cara to tend the horses, while the rest of the knights were free to set up a resting area for themselves.

"Be quick about it. You'll be needing to cook as well," Ector smirked, satisfied. Cara tensed, refusing to react to him to give him any reason to send her away. Steeling herself, she stalked off to see her tasks through.

"Do you reckon he was always so foul?" Percival asked in a hushed voice. 

"More so." She glared at no one in particular, earning a chuckle from Percival. She couldn't help but smile alongside, his was just the laughter to always get her. 

"Sir Ector!" Kay and Leon came clambering through the thickets, looking disgruntled. Their armour and faces were scratched and the sleeves of the doublets and tunics worn beneath torn. They stumbled into the camp, dazed and breathless as they tried to speak. "The druids!"

"They know we're here but know not of our numbers," added Kay as Leon regained his breath.

"How many are they?" Ector stood, taking hold of his sword. Kay shook his head.

"Their camp lays at the base of a ravine, there were many women and children but we could not discern their full force. The ones who protect the camp, they command the forest and they willed the clouds down to conceal their location. I don't where they went." Ector looked to the other knights, an eyebrow raised.

"Do you see?" He spat fiercely to the floor, showing his distaste of the druids they hunted. "Magick!" Cara couldn't help but shake her head. 

"You're going to ride out on women and children? What are you craven?" She couldn't help but call. From what was deduced, the druids had only been trying to protect their location and scared off the scouting knights. Women and children.. that was who they had been sent to slaughter. The men fell silent as Ector trained his withering gaze upon her. He pointed to his son and Leon as if to emphasize they'd attacked one of their own. 

"They did this. And you would seek to defend such actions? When we return to Camelot, King Uther will know of this treachery." 

"Sir Ector," Mordred stepped forward. "Can we really fault the gentle heart of a woman?"

"What?" Cara scoffed, looking dumbfounded. Ector only managed to laugh at his comment, shaking his head as if to let loose the tension in his shoulders. 

"You are correct, my boy. Nonetheless, we must take action now. They know not our numbers. We will kill the heathens and be done with it," Ector commanded. The other knights looked unsure, Cara wondered if she'd managed to talk sense in them. Soon enough her face fell as they all began to ready themselves for their hunt. No-one dared to speak against Ector except her; not a one! 

"Maybe you're all craven," she commented, ignoring the way Lancelot and Percival blanched. All the knights glared towards her then, her words only served to renew their faith in Ector. Mordred grabbed her arm angrily, seemingly having enough of her outbursts. 

"You will keep that woman in line or we'll return to Camelot with sad news of her loss." Ector spoke low, sounding much more intimidating than if he were to yell. Mordred nodded, not releasing his hold on her no matter how hard she struggled. "Then, I trust you to lead the men, Sir Hubert, to the encampment. Lord Lancelot, Sir Bedivere, Kay- all of you with me." With a worried glance, Lancelot nodded his farewell to her.

When they began to move out in the direction of the druid camp, Mordred finally let her go. She nearly fell back into the mud. They glared at one another, letting the men walk ahead. Dead leaves drifted down about, Autumn had come to decorate the earth with their reds and oranges. Soon enough, winter would follow. 

"I am trying to keep you alive," Mordred whispered. 

"Why? I never asked for your help."

"And we didn't ask for yours," he replied. She thought back to the poison she swallowed for Agravaine. "We are your allies, Cara. I hope you come to see that." At that point all that she could do was as she was told. She held no power amongst them, especially ones as thick and bull headed as Ector.  He sighed, ignoring the drops of rain that beginning to fall. It came softly at first, like mist it surrounded, clinging to them gently. Then the real down-pour began, pounding like miniature fists against all it came into contact with. The knights who wore their armour resonated like bells. The rain seeped into her hair, reaching her scalp, chilling her more so than she had felt. "Agravaine has plans. He hopes, as a friend, you're loyalty remains true." 

"Plans?" 

"Cara," Percival called, waiting for her to catch up. Mordred walked on, not speaking another word. "We can do this." He said when she finally caught up. All she could manage to do was stare at the back of Mordred's head, pondering what was spoken. Could she truly trust the men of Orkney? They, who slaughtered their own mother in the dead of night; who did little to mourn the loss of their king father.. Were they truly allies she could keep around? But then, Agravaine seemed to always reach for peace at the end of all the evils committed. Could he be the man who would bring about the golden age?

------------

Agravaine was generous to spare some of his men, the knights of Orkney were solemn men, ne'er to speak a word. All men from there seemed to be as solemn as the next. It'd left Lancelot wondering little upon why Mordred and his family were as they were, with the exception of Gawain. It did not stay him from feeling disquieted in their presence, faces hard as stone. Mordred seemed a conversational lad in comparison. He stuck to travelling behind the group, Ector led the company forward in a light march. It was as if they were going to war, and perhaps they were. Lancelot supposed they should've been considered his enemies as well but he couldn't look upon them as such- not after knowing Merlin. He would always hold a love for god closely to his heart but would never believe his good lord would wish death on any of his creatures. Ector had seemed to believe otherwise, upholding the laws found in the good book, detesting any of pagan values. It was this subject that two knights of Camelot took to speaking of with Lancelot. Uther was a lenient lord; kind and beloved by all his subjects. Though once the matters of the druids were raised, he seemed to lose all his senses. But he'd a right to choose who lived on his lands and the druids swore fealty to no sovereign. Perhaps the situation in dealing with the rivalry between Orkney and Angsley was taking it's toll as well; Uther looked more stressed as the days went by. The new king of Angsley (and Percival's brother), Aglovale, refused to meet with Agravaine. 

"If it was up to me," Kay leaned in as he spoke. "I would be turning back to Camelot. That girl had a point."Kay was much different in looks as he was beliefs from his father. He then looked to the head of the company to make sure Ector hadn't caught a word. Bedivere laughed at his conspiratorial tone and agreed. They seemed to be nice enough, he noted. Even Bedivere, who was significantly older than Lancelot and Kay. It surprised him as his experience with elders usually consisted of them stubbornly clinging to their old traditions.

"You know what I heard?" Bedivere slowed his pace, allowing other surrounding knights to march ahead. Lancelot and Kay followed suit, listening intently. They were akin to fishwives then, sharing gossiping amongst each other. He waved them in closer and soon they were in a huddle. "King Uther is in Agravaine's pocket. That man has a way with words and as his uncle. Orkney will always have his favour. I think they're even in talks of marrying the princess to him." Lancelot stiffened at the news. Surely the gossip had no weight to it, after all Uther seemed to favour Lancelot as a suitor. He was kind to him, even giving his blessing to court his daughter. His heart fluttered at the thought of his lady-love, Guinevere, and sank at the prospect of her married to Agravaine. "The castle has ears." Bedivere continued walking, shaking his head. "I'm probably too suspicious, of course. But I get a bad feeling from that man. He was cruel to my poor little cousin, Griflet. He's my squire, have you met him? He's a good lad." Lancelot shook his head. 

"How about that girl, she's an odd one." Kay changed the subject, looking to Lancelot for an answer. "You came to Camelot together, didn't you? You're always looking out for her. Are you two.." 

"No," Lancelot quickly answered, scrunching his nose at the thought. Cara was much too wild for anyone to tame in such a manner, he'd never even begin to think of her more than just a friend. And he suspected the same was true for her. 

"I'm just going off the rumours," Kay clarified, possibly noting his discomfort.

"Poppycock," Bedivere sounded disinterested. "The only interest that girl seems to have is practicing with Sir Dinadan. It seems to me her love lays there, and I doubt we'll learn anything more from her." Lancelot agreed openly with the older knight, nobody would ever truly know anything personal there was to know about Cara, unless she wanted it to be known. Kay began to speak once more, but a yell a ways off by his father caught his attention. He soon forgot all about their conversation and readied himself to take orders. Ector held up his large gloved hand, looking about the forest floor with cautious narrowed eyes. Everything seemed to still as the forest grew quiet, not even the low winds of the cold day could be heard. The knights unconsciously drew closer to each other, finding their hands on the hilt of their swords. They formed a circle, keeping an eye on all sides of the forest that grew more dreadful as time passed. The air grew so cold, it began stinging Lancelot's nose every time he inhaled.

"Show yourself!" The swish of his sword being unsheathed echoed, and many of the knights followed his lead. Ector stepped forward, signalling Lancelot and Bedivere for support. They quickly made their way behind him. "Show yourself," Ector repeated in a lower voice. The bushes rustled and from them emerged a young woman, loosely draped in beggars clothes. She looked anything but however, her eyes lusty were sharp and piercing; skin flawless and sun kissed, and her hair shined with health.

"Please spare me, sir." She sounded hardly afraid at the threatening blade pointed at her throat. Ector seemingly bristled at the sound of her voice, his face lost it's tension. More rustling came from the trees and more women emerged. They all seemed to have similar gazes as the first, and Lancelot suspected something foul was afoot as all the knights around him seemed to drop their guard completely.

"Forgive me, lady," said Sir Ector who grew flushed. Lancelot studied the strangers closely, seeing tattoos of druid symbols marked upon the skin of their arms and legs, some even reached as far as their necks. He recognized one symbol in particular, similar to that of Cara and Merlin's.

The triquetra, Lancelot remembered the seal. Surely the knights must've realized they spoke to druids! He knew their was no beauty in the world that could change the knights stances on them. The women stepped forward, claiming a knight each and clinging to them. They caressed their faces, removing helmets if worn. Some even began to remove the rest of the knights armour, and the strangest part was they allowed it.

"You all appear so very tired," said one druid woman.

"Surely you are in need of rest," spoke another. One of them made their way to Lancelot, enticing him with strangely alluring eyes. He felt his mind begin to haze, becoming difficult to focus on anything but her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered provocatively.

"Come, you will lay with me," she began leading him away, keeping her eyes locked with his. He felt desire fill him, slowly consuming him entirely. But there was something else inside of him that waged war with said desire; something he held dear to his heart. The knights code- and deeper still a face that warmed him. Guinevere, his lovely little princess. With a renewed focus, he gazed upon the woman with clearer eyes, seeing she was not a beautiful seductress. She was stout and hideous; a crone straight from a horror tale! Her eyes flashed red and her head bald with only a few surviving stringy hairs. Her nose shaped like the beak of a bird, and her teeth rotted as a snarl graced her undesirable face. Lancelot reeled back from her touch, her skin was as rough as the sands upon a beach; stench foul and offensive. He knew these creatures from stories heard from knights who'd somehow survived their clutches. They were wicked though once people themselves. Their hatred for the new god had consumed them; twisted them into what they were now.

"Korrigans!" The creature screeched in anger at Lancelot's reveal. The korrigans around him yelled in reply and when Lancelot spun to see how many there were, his face fell at the sight of his comrades who'd fallen already. The only thing that remained of most of the knights then were their bones, laying in a messy heap. Ector, and his son quickly shook their heads, freeing themselves from the korrigans spell. But poor Bedivere was writhing in pain as a korrigan slowly sucked the very life from him. Lancelot drew Joyeux and swung at the offender. It sprung back, scarcely dodging his blow. Now freed, Bedivere coughed and spluttered. The four knights regrouped, pressing their backs into one another and drawing their swords. The korrigans circled around them, hissing and screeching.

"God help us," cried Kay.

"See the corruption of magick!" Ector spat. Lancelot focused on his enemy, not daring to voice his opinion. It was not magick that had corrupted them, only the hatred they bore.

"Your God has no power here!" Cackled the korrigans bitterly as the knights stiffened in fear of them. After a tense moment, all the korrigans rushed towards the knights, using their long thick nails to cut at them. They were only able to parry so many between the four that soon they were riddled in cuts. Lancelot suddenly missed his white armour as streams of blood fell from the deeply inflicted lacerations, thinking it better to leave it behind lest it slowed him down. The very hatred which flowed through the creatures steamed off the wounds on his skin. They retaliated, swinging their swords expertly in attempt to land a blow, to no avail. The korrigans were much to quick to catch. They began to brandish their magick, summoning the roots of the trees from below. They whipped around them, sounding off with a loud crack that rung throughout the forest. They cut through the roots only seeing them grow thicker and stronger than before. Bedivere was so focused on one korrigan who taunted him that he failed to take notice of a root that wrapped around his ankle, stringing him up in the air. He yelped in surprise, sword falling out of reach. He was thrown around like a rag doll, held upside down. Kay quickly attempted a rescue, aiming to hack down the thick root. He was left completely vulnerable because of it and his foes took advantage, jumping on his back and aiming their claw-like nails at his neck.

"Kay!" His father rushed to his rescue, managing to skew the korrigan with his sword, throwing it away with one swing. By then, Bedivere had all but lost consciousness and was held up limply. Kay continued to hack away at it as his father watched his back. Lancelot fought on his own, trying to stay both the korrigans and the roots they controlled, only to be thrown back by a gust of wind summoned by three of his foes standing off the side. He felt something snap in his arm and screamed in pain. The only blessing was that it hadn't been his sword arm.

"Lancelot!" Ector called, unable to run to his aid. Swarms of korrigans rushed at them as Lancelot backed towards the remainder of his company. Their resolve slowly began to fade as the fight waged on. Their foes relentless and strong, vastly outnumbering the four. Lancelot stood his ground, trying his best to fight with one arm, and failing quite miserably. Ector was disarmed as a root ripped his sword from his hand. Finally, Kay successfully cut through the root. He dripped with sweat by the end of it, huffing as he watched his shield-brother fall to the ground with a thud. They quickly circled around their unconscious comrade, acting as shields to protect him. They were spent by then and the taunts of the korrigans began to eat at them. Had god truly abandoned them? Was it to be their end? Kay swung wildly, desperate to fight off the threat of death. The korrigans merely jumped back and soon he only swung at air.

"Kay," Ector spoke tiredly and when his son was unresponsive, he yelled his name and hugged him until he stilled. At first Kay fought against his father's grasp until finally yielded- yelling out in despair.

"I do not wish to perish here!" And Ector could only hug his son closer. Lancelot tightened his grasp around Joyeux's hilt, feeling sorrow beget at the sight of them. He did not wish to perish either, and the vision of Guinevere came to him as if an angel whispering that it was not their end. Hope was instilled once more; the hope to build a life with his beloved and their child-to-be, a hope to return to his friends, and a hope to see Joyous Guard once more. His faith spread, clearing the seeds of doubt the korrigans cruelly instilled. Surely it was their own doubt they reflected. Doubt in the goddess that showed his friend Merlin the way to his great destiny. 

The god and goddess are one in the same, he remembered his friend explaining once upon a time. The world around him stilled and he could feel Joyeux's power begin to flow through him. The voice of his ancestor rang within his mind as he drew his blade high and stepped towards the threat. With such power instilled, his broken arm was all but forgotten in that moment as if his ancestors lent their own. Within his veins flowed the blood of the faithful. Those who believed in the goddess and those who believed in god all met within him. 

Arise, arise, blood of mine, said the voice. With all the love living in him, he spoke a respectful prayer to god and the goddess, invoking the true power of Joyeux. It shone, blinding the korrigans as they backed away from the light. The power visibly swirled around the blade and with one swift motion, Lancelot banished the korrigans from existence. Nothing but ash was left to remind them of the foes they faced.

"By the good lord," gasped Ector.

"God was with us this day," Kay cheered.

---------

Percival and Cara stayed together, avoiding conversations with anyone else. Her thoughts strayed to Merlin briefly and Ninaine, finding comfort in their memory. She could've spoken just about anything with them; a bond deeper than anything she'd find with the knights in her company. But their want of seclusion only warranted more attention, soon she was interrogated by a few knights in particular who seemed to make up their own little faction: Leon, Elyan, Lucan and Morhalt. She was mortified to see Mordred listening in at their side. 

"So, how long have you known you loved Percival?" Elyan winked. Percival seemed to blanch, making a face that would've offended her if she didn't find the same displeasure from the question. She went red in the face from both embarrassment and anger, shoving by the surrounding knights who bursted into laughter. Her retaliation was cut short when the muddy ground seemed to swallow her up her boot. The men just about died then, nearly falling to the floor as they howled in amusement at the sight of her. She struggled in vain to retrieve it, wondering if her day could get any worse.

"That's enough," Mordred went to her side, fighting to win back her boot. A strong arm came to lock Mordred's head beneath, and his dark curls were ruffled by Leon's knuckle.

"I think Sir Mordred's in love," he teased. Mordred finally managed to pop his head free, his mane swept up messily. He'd have retaliated had the company not silenced in seeing many druids surrounding them, all cloaked and hooded. They were clearly outnumbered and outmatched as the druids flashed magick from their palms in a show of dominance. Any wrong move and they'd surely have attacked. The one leading, ordered the knights to drop their weapons. Feeling the tension in the air, Cara abandoned her lost boot and sadly threw her daggers at their feet in hopes the others wouldn't do anything rash. Hesitantly, the men joined her one-by-one. Though the druids faces were shadowed by their hoods, she could feel their gaze piercing her. With their weapons then confiscated, the druids formed a circle around the knights, lifting their arms high into the spreading branches above. An unnatural mist came down engulfing all present.  When their arms lowered,  the mist withdrew. All were shocked, seeing they'd been moved to an entirely different location. All around them were open fields littered with flowers and freely roaming fauns. Tents were set up with shrubs to decorate them; a form of camouflage shield them from sight of those who strayed too close to their camp. A great fire was placed in the centre, providing warmth to the surrounding people. Hounds laid around with the elders that sat drinking from wooden cups. Children danced around each other, their laughter resonating throughout the open fields.

"Come," spoke the leader, motioning forward to the centre of their encampment. "The elders will decide your fate." The knights looked to one another, feeling uncertain about their situation. Cara feared for the safety of both sides and she desperately hoped they could come to some sort of understanding. She felt a sudden warmth at her side seeing the young knight walk beside her. His eyes were trained ahead of him but she felt it was a show of camaraderie. She wondered if that was his way of reassuring her, or if there was some underlying plot at play to gain her trust for something that was to come. Had Agravaine instructed him to gain her favour? Soon they were faced with three elders who barely glanced up from their cups. Everyone in the camp were gathered.

"Cara?" She heard her name come from the crowd. She thought her heart might burst when seeing her old friend Carolan squeezing by the druids, familiar lute in hand. "It is you!" She couldn't help but let out a relieved whimper as he ran up and embraced her. "Oh, how glad I am to see you again!"

"What're you doing here?" She asked, gripping his hand to make sure he was real. He squeezed her back, grinning widely as he began to explain his adventures, only to be cut off by the elders who cleared their throats. Remembering where they were, her face fell. But she was glad when he refused to leave her side. 

"Why have you come venturing into the forest?" The elders directed their harsh inquiries to the knights. 

"Seeking us out?"

"Wielding your weapons?" Each elder took a turn to speak. The knights looked nervously to one another. Surely the druids knew why they, only seeking to hear it from their own mouths in attempts to shame their actions.

"You know why, heathens! You have shunned the good lord, and now you trespass in King Uther's realm." Spat Hubert, the defiant knight of Orkney. 

"Hubert!" Mordred reprimanded, to which the knight bowed his head though his glare remained. He seemed to have basically signed away their lives. The surrounding druids began to whisper amongst themselves and Carolan looked to Cara as if wondering why she was in the company of such violent people. The elders laughed long and hard at Hubert's expense, clearly unimpressed.

"You are cowards, who shield themselves using the devil's own power!' He retorted, no longer being quelled by Mordred. He then looked to his own company for support. "Do not let their words dissuade you! We are here through the will of your king." And the other men nodded and cheered at his words. He was rallying them, trying to make them fanatical. Once they became blind with devotion, they'd surely have no qualms in slaughtering them all. Cara looked to the side, catching the eye of a young druid girl who watched fearfully as Hubert continued ranting. The girl looked to Cara with much of the same fear. Beside the young girl was a man no older than she, riddled in tattoos. He placed a protective arm the little girl, pulling her close to his side. She nestled into his robes, turning her face from Cara who, by then was looking at the tattooed man. They watched either silently for a few moments, letting each company argue for a time. Carolan nudged her in growing anticipation, lost in not knowing what to do.

"Enough!" Cara shouted, stepping to the front to face the council with her friend at her side. Hubert glowered at her interruption. "Please, may I speak?" The elders watched her with interest, nodding. 

"Do not be fooled by her false courtesies!" The druid boy who hugged the little girl called, silencing only when the elders gave him a stern look.

"You forget yourself, Palamedes." 

"Please," Carolan  petitioned him. "She's my friend and I trust her." 

"These men are good," she stopped to give a sideward glance to Hubert. "Well, most of them. They only do as the king commands. Is there no way we can leave peacefully?"

"You've a kind heart, girl. But we cannot allow you to walk free with knowledge you have. They would bring countless others to see us dead." Of course they would, Cara knew. No knight could lie to their king of what would transpire that day. 

"Is there nothing to be done?" She asked, looking to the other druids who seemed unmoved by her pleas. 

"I am sorry," they offered simply. Soon her company was rushed into the seclusion of a well-guarded tent; their cell no doubt. Carolan and Cara were separated too quick for them to protest. Their unknown fate hung over them as a tense silence filled the air. With nothing to occupy her mind, she thought only of how Carolan had come to be in the company of druids in the first place. 

"I've never seen you so happy to see someone as you were with that man," Mordred sat at her side. She barely spared him a glance. "Who is he?" 

"Your man, Hubert," she ignored his question, "is going to get us killed." The knight of Orkney bristled at hearing her speak of him, ceasing his wild pacing. He stalked towards her, only to have both Mordred and Percival shield him from advancing.

"You grow much too arrogant, woman!" He pointed to her. "And you," he looked down his nose to Mordred. "Your king-brother would be ashamed at how soft you've become." Mordred stepped closer, face almost touching Hubert's own. 

"Cara is right," Lucan's voice sounded through the argument. It surprised her that he would think so. "What if this was our one chance to bring a peaceful resolution? If we got them to bend the knee, or even convinced them to leave the kingdom there would be no need for bloodshed." Cara raised a brow, wondering why she hadn't thought of asking them to relocate. Though, they did seem too stubborn to just walk away from their land. Elyan, Leon and Morhalt slowly began to agree, placing blame on Hubert for their predicament. Losing their support made him back away from Mordred without a word. They all went back to sitting in silence for who knew how long thereafter. 

The outside light soon faded into night, and Carolan came to them with Palamedes at his side. Cara stood instantly and everyone crowded behind to hear what news they brought. A tense moment fell before the druid boy spoke. 

"The council will hear you once more," he said as if displeased by the news. Everyone smiled, exhaling sighs of relief. "Don't expect too much." He added grimly, leading the way outside where everyone gathered. The elders nodded in welcome to their company. 

"Thank-you for seeing us again," said Elyan. 

"We wouldn't have were it not for the passionate Carolan who spoke on your behalf. Though we do not know if there is anything to be said to convince us." The elder woman waved her hand. 

"Would you not reconsider swearing fealty to King Uther? He is just and fair and would certainly take you in, knowing you are loyal," Lucan stepped forward. 

"Dear boy, our people haven't had a sovereign in centuries, we would not bow to a man who has made a sport of killing our kind." They rejected the thought altogether, waiting for another suggestion.

"Would you leave this land, then?" Morhalt added, "King Uther wouldn't waste men in pursuit if he knew you wouldn't return." The druids seemed to take less kindly to that, murmuring angrily amongst each other. 

"This land has been ours long before it was yours. You'd exile us from our homes and call this a kindness?" 

"It's better than losing your lives!" Cara stepped forward at last, "that isn't meant as a threat either. Wouldn't it be better to live somewhere freely than being constantly afraid and living in shadows?" 

"What would you know about the plight of our people?" Palamedes chuckled bitterly. 

"Enough of this!" Hubert lunged forward, grabbing Palamedes into a deadly hold. Everyone gasped in horror as they began a struggle. "You will let us go, or I kill him here and now!"

"Let him go!" Mordred yelled, but Hubert would have none of it. 

"Give us our weapons," he instructed, and slowly the elders nodded. Their blades were returned to them in haste at the sight of Palamedes struggling for air. Hubert pointed his sword at Palamedes for a moment before he threw him to the ground. But the situation grew worse still when Hubert decided to bring up his blade. The little girl Cara saw in the tent threw herself over Palamedes, screaming out his name when the sword struck down on her. 

"Camille!" The druid boy cried and Hubert stood in shock, not having meant to hit anyone but the boy. Before anyone could do anything, Cara threw herself in a rage on top of him. Suddenly chaos broke loose. The druids attacked the knights and the knights defended themselves against them. Cara struggled to keep Hubert on the ground as she laid into him with her fists. He threw her off easily, turning the tables by throwing himself on top of her. All she could do was claw at his face as he squeezed both hands around her neck. Pressure built in her head and soon she felt it might explode as she struggled for air. 

The chaos was brought to heel from Carolan strumming his lute in anger, stunning people into silence from magical song. Hubert's hold on her slipped and she gasped, rolling out from under him. She looked up to see the knights frozen in place when Carolan's song came to an end; eyes holding a far off gaze as if frozen in time. Carolan's time apart from them proved to be fruitful; his magick much stronger than before. 

"Show them, Cara," he breathed heavily, pointing to the druid elders who looked sadly towards Palamedes mourning the girl. 

"Sister," he cried, holding her close. 

"They'll understand," he urged. She unbuttoned the top of her tunic then, flashing the seal on her chest. Their eyes widened in recognition and the elders walked towards her to get a closer look. 

"You are no druid to have such a symbol." They looked to her for answers but knew she couldn't speak just then. She massaged at her tender throat, swearing she'd get Hubert back if any permanent damage was done. Instead, the elder druids asked for her hands and she obliged them. There magick sunk into her, searching for the answers they sought. Visions of a journey and quest relayed to them and suddenly they understood. "We will leave this land," they said finally. "Though we know not where we would go." 

"There is a place," Carolan offered. "When last I saw it, the land was plentiful and the host more welcoming than you'll ever believe." Cara knew just the one, and she was happy Ol'Wise and the little people were doing well. 

"Then that is where we will go," they looked to the knights who slowly broke from Carolan's spell. "We must leave now." Cara nodded, thankful for Carolan's quick thinking. They took hold of Palamedes, allowing him to bring Camille's body. Carolan went to hug Cara once more. 

"I have to show them the way," he said sadly. She nodded, resting her head against his shoulder. It would be difficult to manage without him after only just getting him back. But she would do, Merlin told her that the path she needed to follow was in Camelot. "We will meet again." He promised and hurried away with the druids. The same mist that brought Cara and the knights to the druid camp came and went, leaving only the knights in her company. 

They all awoke again, dazed and confused as to what happened. But with the druids gone their task was all but fulfilled. With Hubert stripped of his weapons, they marched him back to reconvene with Ector and his contingent. 

A stand off of sorts was held between the seer and the king, until the steward could take no more, coming forward and offering the new-comers drink to accompany the food they hadn't touched.
"We've come to free the dragon," Merlin announced, to which the steward spluttered. It seemed he'd a few qualms with the idea, as did his king, who's eyes narrowed into thin slits. Merlin simply leaned back in his uncomfortable wooden chair, swivelling the contents of his goblet. The king could only shake his head at Merlin's blunt request. He hoped the king would simply smile and merrily hand the wicked beast to him on a silver platter. Things were never that easy, Merlin found. 
"You don't know what you ask, boy," he spat as if the boon were a bitter thing upon his tongue. Merlin flinched at the harshness of his tone, impressed by the decorum still held by Ninaine. He supposed she had to have control of her demeanour if she survived Claudas' court. Merlin stood, causing the wooden chair to screech along the stone floor. The king and his steward were startled by the suddenness of his actions, and jumped back. It was doubted by both Ninaine and Merlin that they were often faced with opposition.
They haven't seen anything yet.. Merlin inwardly smirked as his hand was raised to his chest. His eyes closed gently while his palm covered the seal. It had seemed like so long ago since he'd received the triquetra, and Merlin felt himself missing the times when it was just him and Cara on the road. Their destinies seemed much more clear then; much more linear. The seal of the triquetra began to glow and a warmth spread throughout him. A fierce gasp could be heard from the steward as he gaped in awe at the display. The king looked much less impressed than his servant.
"This seal is proof that I am to help pave the way for the golden age," he explained. Still, the king remained unmoved.
"Do not assume to impress me with that rubbish." He took to standing himself, rolling up the sleeve of his finely made tunic. He revealed something that shocked Merlin back into sitting. On the king's arm was a brandish identical to his own. "I am Lludd, the one true king of all of Albion. Or so I was promised. Don't assume yourself special." Merlin couldn't understand; couldn't wrap his head around why Lludd shared his seal. All too suddenly, Merlin tensed at the feeling of the world falling away from; a magick far greater than his own pulled him suddenly into a vision. Far away he could he Ninaine screaming, her warms hands were barely felt as he allowed the magick to take him. There was nothing around him, only the darkness of an empty void. But he could feel a familiar presence somewhere near. It was so close he felt that if he reached out he'd be able to take hold of it. There was no need as from beside him crept one of The Three. It'd been so long since he was graced by any of their presences. Morgaine looked about the darkness briefly before speaking.
"Once there was a boy who'd a great destiny ahead of him, his name was Lludd. His elder brother, Llefelys, was heir to all the land." She waved her hand and the blackness rippled into visions of a young Lludd and what he assumed to be the brother mentioned. "A rebellion had broken out across the land, some favouring Lludd in place of Llefelys. Though neither of the brothers wished to fight." Images of men marching to battle across a great field. One night, Merlin saw in the vision shown, upon the coming of a blue moon Lludd had a dream of women, all robed in black, standing amongst the swaying mists above a great loch. Scattered all about them were the grandest and sturdiest of elder trees, swaying in the cold winds with their white flowers drifting down like snow. He knew such a place, and suddenly Lludd's tale became all too familiar. They promised him a great destiny, much like Morgaine, Morgase, and Vivianne had promised Merlin. He awoke the next morning, knowing he'd be a king to pave the way to a golden age, but not when the land was divided and not until he had proved himself worthy. Lludd had sought to make peace with Llefelys, and after some trying it eventually came to pass. He was welcomed home to his great kingdom, the castle overlooking the sea on a high cliff looked so familiar but foreign to Merlin. He almost couldn't place where he'd seen such it until he remembered it was then home to the little people. "I was his greatest advisor," Morgaine spoke almost sadly upon seeing herself walking at his side. "His greatest friend.. and soon," the vision shifted to them meeting in secret. King Lludd placed a ring upon her finger before placing a gentle kiss upon Morgaine's lips. "I was his greatest love." Not only was Lludd promised a great future, so was she. For years they lived happily, great peace was amongst them.
"What changed?" Merlin asked, "What happened to Lludd?" 
"I used my sight to look into the future, to find the coming of the golden age we were promised. I saw only death.. not only mine, but my husband's as well." The vision showed what happened next. Morgaine, in her desperate need to alter the future, made a rash decision. She told him a false vision, intending to lure him to a place she'd use a horrible magick for sake of him. "Beneath a hillock, you will find a dangerous creature locked away. Here, you'll find your true destiny." And off they went once more, the seer distant and with a sad look upon her face. So focused on the task at hand was the king that he had failed to see her sorrow. Once they reached the hillock, they felt the earth rumble as they neared. The sound of the crying creature could be heard. Morgaine stopped in place at the side of a thorn tree near a river. And her treachery led them to part there, telling he was to brave the journey alone. So blindly trusting of his destiny was he, that he ventured forward unafraid. With a pickaxe he climbed up the great mound, and when he'd reached the top a great roar could be heard. The hillock began to rock with the likeness of a cradle and clouds came misting by, blocking out the sun. As if night, the king could not see before him. All that could be heard coming from Morgaine had been chanting and from her enchanting words came a flash of lightning, clapping o'er head. The mound opened up, and down he fell into a great pool where he'd come face-to-face with the monster. Though, it looked just as distressed as he. Around the large creature grew a ring of shadow, and Lludd soon had one circling about him as well. A wash of euphoria and pain built up within him. When it'd all been finished, the scaled beast collapsed into the pool, weak from the ritual that had just taken place. And when Lludd tried to leave the hillock, he found that if he travelled too far, he would be flung back. He was a prisoner
"What did you do? What did you see?" Merlin pressed. 
"I bound the dragon to my husband, he would never die for a dragon is immortal. When I peered into the future, there was a golden age promised. But I had perished, and the love we shared betrayed in trying to pave the path. Soon after, he would perish too." She looked to Merlin, "I made a choice between what was right and what I wanted.. you must do the same, young warlock. But I must first ask that you right my wrongs. Will you grant me this kindness?" 
"Yes," Merlin nodded, suddenly afraid of his destiny and the choices to come. He woke to Ninaine hovering over him worriedly, looking relieved only when he managed to sit up on his own.
"Seers," Lludd sneered. He looked to the mad king with pity then, understanding why he was the way he was. Eternal life wasn't granted to humans, whose fleeting lives snuffed in the blink of an eye compared to a dragon. Lludd lost his mind through the centuries, bound to that hillock as much as the dragon.
"Let me free the dragon," Merlin answered. "Let me free you."
"Never."
"Why not relinquish that which so clearly torments you?" Ninaine asked, needing to know the reason as much as Merlin. 
"I will wait forever until she returns to me, despite her treachery." He stood then, calling in his men. "And you will not ruin this for me!" With a hand, he signalled guards to drag the two away. They were hauled into the cellars where the cold of the outside permeated the walls within. They shivered within their cloaks, barely able to get the warmth to stay. 
"What now?" Ninaine asked expectantly. Merlin was growing uncomfortable with familiarizing himself with imprisonment, two times in a cell being more than he liked. From the shadows emerged a sad looking jester. Merlin shuttered at the sight of him, identifying him as the one in the vision with the moth that led him there.
"Once you are thrown in here, you are forgotten until you waste away." A red smile painted across his face, runny from the damp air of the dungeon. Yet the man beneath the face paint looked anything but merry. His2 sad and sunken eyes were wrought with fatigue. His cheeks were gaunt, deepened by the frown he wore on his real lips. A brief wondering came to Merlin as to why he was locked away in the first place.
"Don't they come to bring food? Or check on us?' Ninaine hugged her arms close, stepping slightly away from the jester. 
"It is rare, but I fear one day they will forget altogether. It's already been three weeks since last they fed me. When I heard them coming I had hoped it was to bring me food. Not company." He buried his face into his hands, retreating back into the shadows. His soft sobbing echoed down the stone corridors of the prison. "Alas, I fear this place will be the end of me."
"We will escape," replied Merlin with a sigh. With a grip upon the iron bars, his hands glowed red, attempting to melt through them. The jester stopped his cries, looking up slightly to watch Merlin work his ever-strengthening magick. Ninaine shook her head, choosing to lean against the bars next to him, watching him curiously. 
"The destiny you have shields you and anyone you meet from any danger. It's little wonder how Lancelot reclaimed Joyous Guard."
"I don't think that's true," Merlin responded, thinking of what he learned with Morgaine. Ninaine took to playing with the ends of her hair, swiping it on the palm of her hand as if it were a brush. 
"What's your story then, Sir Jester?" She barely looked back to him. He sniffled, running his nose along the entirety of his arm.
"I am Dagonet of MerryVale. I travelled with another merchant from my home, until we got lost one day. Somehow we ended up here. The king took us in. Fed us, bathed us, clothed us. He was kind." Merlin stopped, looking to Ninaine who looked equally caught off guard. His hands slipped from the bars, and he slowly turned to face Dagonet.
"You said MerryVale?" Merlin stepped towards him. Dagonet nodded, twitching his nose in attempt to clear it. "Do you know a girl named Cara?" The man looked bemused, eyes shifting between maidservant and seer.
"Little Cara? I.. yes! But how do you know her? She's never set foot outside of MerryVale before!" Merlin shook his head, there was too much to cover and too much he needed to get done. He would need answers before he gave them.
"Are you her father? She said that he and others from MerryVale would travel often by caravan." Merlin could practically picture the dumbfounded look Cara would give if he managed to return with her father. Perhaps it would give her confidence knowing her family was at her side. Dagonet lowered his gaze in sadness, a tear slid down his cheek, adding another streak to his face-paint.
"Like I said, once you're thrown in here.." He cleared his throat. Merlin was awash with absolute dread. He wondered what Cara's last memory of him had been. Without a word Merlin returned to the iron bars, melting it at a quicker speed. The thought of Cara crying for her father began to eat away at Merlin, and suddenly he felt an anger never known to him. He lost his concentration, and the heat from his palms dissipated as he furiously beat against the bars and yelled out.
"Merlin!" Ninaine called to stop further outbursts, placing a hand upon his shoulder. The very fury within him seemed to seep out, making the air around them stale. With his brow pressed against the bars, he tried to steady his heavy breaths. He didn't want to return to Cara with that news.. though perhaps in knowing it she'd learn she wasn't abandoned like she thought. The cry of the dragon suddenly began to ring out through the entirety of the fort, causing Merlin to sober. The jester began his crying once more, and Lludd began his screaming. "Merlin, look.." He lifted his gaze to see a white moth in the exact likeness of his vision, fluttering down the corridors, emitting it's own glow. It followed the cry of the dragon held below, stopping a moment in brief regard of Merlin and Ninaine before it flew off.
"Those be the pixies," sniffled Dagonet. "They often come by, They are kind little things."
"We have to get to that dragon, I know the way but Lludd is always sitting in direct sight of the way there." Merlin concentrated, finally getting the bars to melt. He stepped through, holding out a hand to Ninaine. "We'll need a distraction." 
"Leave it to me. I haven't seen a single woman in this place, a little flirting should do the trick." Merlin frowned, knowing she'd be successful in gaining Lludd's attention, but at what cost? He felt himself getting jealous, it was unfamiliar; uncomfortable. 
"Just don't do anything you don't want to.. and be careful." 
"Don't worry about me," she smiled, seemingly grateful for his concern. They looked to Dagonet expectantly, letting him know he was free to go. Without wasting time, Dagonet thanked them continuously before disappearing around the corner. He wouldn't meet the same fate as Cara's father. With a quick hug, Ninaine and Merlin themselves got to work. Merlin waited around the corner as she walked out as brazen as they come, greeting the king with a curtsy. He could hear Lludd and his steward question how she escaped. "Well," she closed the door behind her and Merlin could hear her muffled voice sounding through. "Have I got a story for you!" He smiled before running to the well, looking back in hesitance before he tossed himself down.
--------
She willed herself not to shake and looked towards the forgotten king. He stood, looking down his nose towards her indignantly. As if she were a worm writhing about in the mud of his garden. His face was telling her exactly what he was thinking: What shall I do with you?
Good, thought Ninaine. I just need to buy enough time for Merlin to do whatever needs to be done. With a confident smile she walked back to the table adorned with food, picking a strawberry and biting down as seductively as she could. All the men back in Joyous Guard always seemed to fall under her spell when she used that trick. She could ask them to do anything she wanted and they'd do it without seeking reward, no questions asked. He stepped towards her, his strides surly and full of purpose then. His eyes trailed the length of her body as he bounded closer. She knew she had him then, but something was different. She found her arms wrapping around herself as a form of protection, suddenly not feeling up to the task. His eyes held of wicked promise as he licked his lips. Apparently he liked her frightened, it only made Ninaine all the more desirable. Once he was standing directly in front of her, his finger slid beneath her chin- it forced Ninaine to gaze at his face. She swallowed hard, wishing she were back in the cell with Merlin. How long had it been since he had his way with a woman? She'd never found a man as repulsive as she did then.
"I'll just go back to my cell now," as Ninaine spun to leave she was forced back with a painful yank of her arm. She stumbled into the tight embrace of the king. "Please!" She shrieked and struggled against his hold, feeling inexplainable horror wash over her. "Let me go!" She fought to no avail. His arms were strong and firm as he dragged her back and pinned her to the floor. His steward quickly excused himself, shuffling out of the room.
Ninaine cried as he stripped her of her clothes. She knew then she'd not be able to escape, and he'd have his way with her no matter what. And so she did what she could to block out the wicked things that were taking place. Thinking hard on the one thing that would bring her peace.
I love you. Did you know that? She could remember telling Cara. And the memory of her smile at the declaration nearly made Ninaine cry. 
I love you as well, Cara had replied. 
---------
He descended into what seemed an eternal abyss, only finding its end when splashing into the waters below. It was then Merlin's eyes settled on the pixie he'd seen earlier. It watched him curiously before it deciding it had no place there any longer. Behind from where the pixie flew was something in the shadows from deep within the cavern. A great snout came out, sniffing at the air. Large looming eyes watched them from the darkness. It's choppy breathing could be heard echoing throughout the dome as it slithered nearer. The waters shifted as it moved, lapping up and down rhythmically upon Merlin. Slowly, the dragon slithered forward just enough to flash its red scales, stopping when noticing the seer. Merlin froze in place, not daring to breathe in fear it would set it off somehow. As if understanding he meant no harm, the dragon tilted its head curiously as if to ask what on earth he was doing down there. Their peace was broken from the angry shouting echoing down the well. 
"Seer!" Came Lludd's voice. And both Merlin and the dragon shot their eyes up to look at the faint light above. "I know your down there! My steward heard you screaming on the way down! Get out this instance or I'll skin you alive!" The dragon roared loudly, seemingly agitated and shocked in equal parts at the king's presence. It thrashed about as if trying to break the foundations of the fort. Long had it been since Lludd had even thought of approaching so near, Merlin could imagine. He had to duck out of the way of the dragon's flailing limbs; tail whipped around to all spaces on the far-reaching walls. Until finally succeeding in its centuries-long quest, the ceiling above collapsed down upon them. The stagnant water that filled the cavern splashed from falling debris. The men above, including Lludd fell, screaming loud in fear. Thinking quickly, Merlin raised his hand and summoned the water to shield him from everything that threatened to crush his head. And when everything settled he found Ninaine floating, barely batting a lash.
"Ninaine!" He rushed to her side, pulling her close. Her eyes seemed to focus again as she gazed upon his face. She broke down suddenly in tears, burying her face into his chest. "The dragon.." Merlin whispered as he pulled Ninaine closer into him. The light from the above citadel did little to help lift the shadows. Stumbling on the rubble strewn about, Merlin noticed Lludd emerging from the dark pool. He gasped for air, wiping his face with a large hand. His men started popping up in much the same manner, not seeing the dragon focusing in angrily on their king. Suddenly, the seal on Lludd's arm flash a hot-red colour, burning with something Merlin couldn't recognize. He attempted to quell it by dunking it back under water. As Lludd screamed in pain, so too did the dragon. Its snout shot to the much wider ceiling, as if realizing it could see the open air if it just climbed out. It inhaled and let loose a pyre from its razored mouth. The citadel roof collapsed, and the once stagnant air was filled with the freshness of the outside world. It roared in victory, flapping its leathery wings as hard as it could. Coming out in small jerks at first as they'd been neglected for centuries. Finally it gained altitude, breaking through the remainder of the floor of the citadel above. Straining to use his magick, Merlin summoned the earth, propelling them all out of the well, and when emerged they could see the citadel was in complete ruin. Lludd's remaining men shouted, manning the last of their ballistas. They aimed and fired at the dragon, who only circled in the sky happily, striking it dead centre.
"Don't kill it!" Lludd screamed, pulling them away from the ballistas. "Capture it! Bring nets-- rope!" The dragon strained to flee, attempting to fly far from the broken hillock. Still holding Ninaine, Merlin inwardly cheered as it flew further and further, believing he won the freedom of the dragon. Unfortunately a mighty force rippled through the air, catapulting the dragon back to the base of the hill. It slid all the way there, upturning any trees and ripping out any grass. Merlin's smile fell from his face, realizing Morgaine bound them both to the hill. The dragon laid there, completely hopeless as it wailed lowly with gruff breaths. Slow spurts of fire escaped its nostrils as it writhed about while the men bound it in their rope.
 
"My king! Thank the heavens!" His steward came running towards Lludd, looking worse for wear.
 
"Geoffrey, tell the men to hurry up and put it back beneath. I cannot bear to see it."
 
"Right away, sire," he scurried off. Merlin knew not what to do next. He could always attempt to release the spell, but his fear of injuring the dragon stayed his hand. He didn't know the ritual to undo the evil either. Surely there was something Merlin could offer Lludd to help persuade him to end it. Suddenly a thought came to him and he spun to face Lludd. 
 
"Morgaine," said Merlin. Lludd stiffened at her name. "I will take you to her."
 
"You are a fool, boy. She is dead."
 
"I will take you," Merlin said more adamantly. His magick sung to him the very enchantment he was looking for. The eyes of Lludd before then had always been a hazy thing, but as Merlin spoke they slowly drifted into focus. It was as though he could see all the amazingly fantastical things from his past right before his waking eyes. "I can do it, you know I can." The seal on Lludd's arm glowed again, this time a vibrant blue that sung of hope. 

"Yes..' Lludd agreed. Merlin looked to Ninaine, slowly letting her know he would release her. Her hold lingered until she relented. He walked forward to Lludd, offering his hand. 
----------
Morgaine was a feared woman, even if advisor to the jovial king (who was always surrounded by his people as he walked the streets). She watched him from atop the gatehouse, overlooking the open market. Many wandered laughing merrily. Chickens, dogs and cats- oh, much of every animal roamed as freely as their keepers. The loudest laughter of all was Lludd's, it could be heard even from way up where she stood. And it brought a warmth to her heart. Between her fingers she twirled a cornflower with an absent mind. Her eyes closed as she inhaled the salty air of the sea wafting from the other side of the castle. She loved it there with all her heart, and wondered briefly if she'd be allowed to live there forever. A small smile tugged at her lips as she brought the flower to her nose to breathe it in. The sound of greaves marching brought her back to her senses, and she quickly set the flower free into the wind. It drifted down gently as she turned to nod at the patrolling garrison. Had she stayed overlooking the market she'd have seen a young Lludd plucking the flower from the air. The garrison captain spoke for all his men as he passed with a nod.
 
"My lady Morgaine," he greeted. And off they disappeared, continuing their work. Morgaine slumped with a sigh, turning again when noticing a disturbance in the air. There was a haunting feeling, coming from beyond the city and deep into the forest of the willow trees. A calling that summoned her; beckoning her from her musings. She ran towards it, ignoring anyone who tried getting in her way. She stopped at the forest edge, glancing into the usually well-lit trees. Beams of light were usually found lighting up the way through the groves. She inhaled deeply, sensing a great magical being from deep within; a being she hadn't seen in her divination before. Excited, she hurried forward with her skirt hitched higher in her hands in hopes of gaining speed. Soon, she came upon two figures stood with their backs turned to her, looking about in confusion. 
 
"Lludd?" Tears filled his eyes as he looked upon her. He was rugged and old, Morgaine could barely recognize her love then. "Could it be?"
 
"It is I," responded Lludd. She strode all the way forward, placing her hands upon his face and tracing the unfamiliar lines that creased around his eyes as he laughed.
 
"You are terribly old," she said, laughing along with him.
 
"And you are terribly beautiful." He could not help but dip his head to her shoulder and cry, inhaling her scent all the while. She wrapped her arms around him, giving Merlin an inquisitive look. She knew the magick came from the boy, but it seemed oddly powerful for one so young. Merlin regarded her as well, not oblivious to her great aura.
 
"What is your sorrow?" Morgaine grabbed Lludd's shoulders to look upon his mature face. His age did little to stop her from looking at him with loving eyes. He cried once more, falling to his knees as if unable to speak.
 
"Mayhaps you will speak more clearly," Morgaine looked towards Merlin, allowing Lludd to press his head to her stomach.
 
"You remembered me, the first time I met you-- though I guess this is the first time you meet me." Morgaine didn't understand, but he seemed to be recalling a memory. "Have you seen you future yet?" 
 
"We were promised a great future, but we are only a means to an end." She confirmed. "Once our quests fulfilled we will be tossed aside. We were only a catalyst made to pave the way for better men. I will remember your face."
 
"Say goodbye," he told Morgaine, who knew of what he spoke. Kneeling in front of her king, she joined her forehead to his and sighed.
 
"Do not hate me so," she said. "For I love you with all my being, and have pledged myself to you forever."
 
"And I to you," said Lludd. With an outcast hand, the boy sent Lludd back to whatever time they'd come from. He lingered for a moment before he asked her one more thing.
 
"Will Lludd die?"
 
"We humans are not made to live forever." She answered, certainly not wishing her beloved to do so. She sensed his concern was truly meant for another, and the answer she provided didn't satisfy him at all. "Rest easy, young seer. All whose time will come, will."
------------ 
Lludd was found rolled on the floor like a child, crying and gripping the mud. His steward fretted over him, trying to reach him with his words. Merlin knew it was all for naught. Ninaine sat alone to the side, well away from the mad king.  At the base of the hill, Lludd's men yet struggled with the dragon. Merlin was ready to set it free. He stepped lightly down towards the altercation, staying their hands by a mere call.
 
"Unbind it," he ordered.
 
"Step away, boy." One of the men shoved Merlin back hard. The forced bounced back to him three fold, and instead the guard was sent flying back.  Merlin looked to the next guard with a coldness in his eye.

"I am ordering you to unbind it." Much more agreeable than the first, the guard yielded with lowered eyes. He dared not test Merlin then. He cut the binds on the dragon, ordering the rest of his men to do the same. Merlin sent them away then, lifting his hands to the sky in attempt to undo the curse. Clouds began to gather and soon thereafter rains fell. Merlin could feel the magick being lifted. The dragon slowly lifted its head into the sky, eyes lighting up as it sighed in content. From behind, he could hear the old king groan loudly in relief, as if stretching out a cramped muscle. It sounded of release; of freedom. The citadel, the steward, the men and the king all slowly dissolved and blew away into dust. Not a mark of theirs was left behind, and the dragon stood then. Ninaine ran to Merlin, amazed at what she saw. Though in pain still, she managed to applaud him. They were sheltered from the pounding rain suddenly stopped, looking up to see the dragon's extended wing, shielding them from the elements.

After the rain let up, Dagonet came walking out from the forest accompanied by the familiar urisk.
"Dagonet!" Merlin ran to him with a big grin. His face paint was washed away and he was dressed in simpler attire; he appeared much younger than before. "I didn't think you made it out after all that!"
"I'm surprised I did," replied Dagonet, pointing to the urisk behind him who gave a tiny wave.
"Hello," it greeted. "You wouldn't happen to have another plum on you? Dagonet said I'd be paid for saving him." Merlin patted down his pockets and apologized when it came up empty, explaining he lost his packs. "Ah, never-you-mind."
"Thank you for saving me, Sir Urisk," Dagonet shook his hand fondly. "I'd be crushed beneath the rubble if not for your service. And these clothes you've given me.." Merlin wondered why the urisk had clothes ready to hand out, but the creature was so strange already that he didn't think too much upon it. Merlin looked back to where Ninaine sat, the dragon stretched out beside her.
"By god!" The urisk ran towards them, faster than any horse Merlin or Dagonet had seen before. When the urisk stood before the dragon it snarled and growled at the its approach. Dagonet fell back in fear of the great beast, cowering behind his hands. The urisk simply stamped its hooves in offended retaliation.
"Ambrosius!" It called to the dragon who huffed out its flared nostrils. "By god, man! It's been too long!"
"Ambrosius?" Merlin stepped towards Ninaine who only shrugged weakly.
"You saved him," the urisk's eyes watered slightly. "Forget the plums this is payment enough." Ambrosius and the urisk began having a rather one-sided argument. "I couldn't have visited, you know that man tried to have me eaten!" The dragon gave a low rumbling sound as if uncaring if it was true. They spoke a while there, before the urisk decided it was time for him to return home. "I'll never forget any of you," he said and waved, walking back into his forest.  Never would they forget the strange happenings of that journey.

He didn't know where to go from there, wondering if using his sight would help, but he didn't think it'd be a good idea to use it for such menial things. He shuttered remembering Morgaine's constant distant eyes, looking too far into the future was her undoing.. or perhaps that was what she was meant to do all along. Dagonet, excitedly encouraged him nonetheless after he finally learned of everything transpired. He wanted to see how Melin worked his magick, it didn't take much to convince him after Ninaine gave an encouraging nod. Her mood had changed to sadness so quickly, Merlin couldn't understand what could have caused it. Wanting to cheer her up, he opened up his heart to whatever vision came to him: Passing farm lands and cities, forests and plains, deep into mountains and out to rolling glens. Finally coming upon an open field. Beyond that was a vast willow forest, and standing tall and mighty was a great castle. It was much different to the broken one Merlin left. The fields were filled with homes and and farms, streets were just being constructed, large amounts of people watched a familiar face emerging from the throngs; a little man smoking a pipe that Merlin recognized to be Ol'Wise. He told them of the coming golden age, and the king that was promised to bring it about. Merlin wondered who they all were, and where they'd come from. That renewed castle was to be the heart of Albion; the coming king's home. Quite suddenly, that vision was torn away and he knew he wasn't meant to return just yet. His path laid elsewhere, with druids seeking shelter in a kindly king's city. They were making their way to that free land someone promised. Leading them was another familiar face: his old friend Carolan. But they weren't safe, not them or the druids.. for there was a darkness approaching; swarming towards Camelot, and they were in the way.

He came to, seeing expectant eyes watching him for guidance. Even Ambrosius seemed interested in what the seer saw. With a sullen face he looked to Ninaine, knowing their time together had come to an end as well. As if understanding, she embraced him and asked where he needed her to go, promising she'd do whatever he'd ask of her.

"Will you help me?" Merlin asked Ambrosius. The dragon purred, accepting his proposal. With a flash of magick, the dragon knew the way. He stepped away, turning then to Dagonet, who looked confused. He'd nowhere else to go as MerryVale was no more. With a shrug, he mounted Ambrosius. Ninaine's eyes lit up a moment, remembering how fondly Cara spoke of it. She clambered up Ambrosius' scales, sitting comfortably between the ridges of his back.
"Good-bye, Ninaine." Merlin called up to her. She smiled sweetly, red hair blowing in the wind before Ambrosius roared out in happiness, flapping his leathery wings. Merlin watched them propel into the sky envious as the dragon twisted and turned.
-----------
Ninaine met a little man who seemed to be unperturbed by Ambrosius' presence. He blew a puff of smoke, regarding each of them as if they were expected. 
"Are you not afraid?" Dagonet queried, seeing the little man's confidence. He simply shrugged, telling them he expected something to happen soon, though he didn't know what. Then they showed up.
"If it's meant to be, it's meant to be," he introduced himself as the Oldest and Wisest. "You can call me Ol'Wise if you like." He added in seeing their faces scrunch in curiosity of the strange name. Ol'Wise nodded towards the castle and shoo'd away the curious spectators. From the way Merlin and Cara described it, the building was in such a disarray that they doubted it could ever stand again. But there it was, mightier than ever. The little people had certainly been busy. They reached the castle, being met by Pinel le Savage, she recognized him from Camelot. He was a knight of Angsley, and she wondered why he was there. Pinel bowed his head in welcome as Ol'Wise introduced him.
"He won't tell me why he left whatever life he had before. But we don't turn anyone away here, and Pinel has been a great help." The once-knight cleared his throat as if not wanting his secrets revealed. They all filed through the long corridors with far reaching ceilings. Stained glass chronicling Merlin and Cara's run-in with the dearg due were hung high, light streamed down in different colours. There was one with the little people crowded around their feet, and one with the unicorn raising its head high; alicorn gleamed in the sun. There were frescoes upon the floor, willows of different patterns. Ninaine felt a tear come to her eye as pride swelled at having been blessed to meet such heroes. They'd done so much good. She was stunned into silence by sheer awe of the courtroom. It was a long hall, pillars painted with druid and christian symbols alike, intertwined. The floor was a pure white and at its centre was a triquetra overlapping a cross, with a circle to bind it together. At the end of the hall was a large throne with a larger banner hanging behind. Upon the banner was a unicorn and a kelpie standing rampart, between them were two crossed swords.
"This is incredible." Dagonet breathed.
"I wish Cara and Merlin were here to see it," said Ninaine.
"Somethin's comin'," Ol'Wise spoke again, cutting through their shock. "And I don't know why, m'dear, but I think you've a big role to play." 
They were each given rooms and Ninaine took to staying in hers. She was in agony of the tragedy that struck her. She'd never been in such a situation, not even with Claudas. Would she ever be as good and pure as her friends that led her there? She tossed and turned well into the night, unable to find the rest needed. Both her mind and heart were clouded by shame; a depression veiled her, crushing down as if being pinned by a colossal force. When she couldn't fight the feeling any longer, she sobbed into her pillows. Soon they were stained with her tears, smothering all sound. Ninaine scratched at her skin, remembering Lludd's touch. She thought herself disgusting then, and no amount of bathing could cleanse her of it. She hated herself. What could she provide her friends, besides the dark clouds she brought with her? Was she to be a burden forever? A voice emerged from far away when she finally stilled, drifting gently into her room. A soft humming surrounded her; an ancient tongue no mortal man could speak, beckoning with a lovingness she felt undeserving of. She followed it like a sailor would a sirens call as it led her to the halls and out the castle. Into a path in the willow forest, she went. Not much life bloomed in the coming of winter. The further she went the louder the humming became, and suddenly the forest groaned to life; branches reached towards each other, forming a tunnel. The ground began to part, budding flowers bloomed despite the season. She could smell the scent of apples riding in the wind and the humming turned to singing. Birds accompanied the song with their chirps, and cicadas joined in the choir. Butterflies fluttered and pixies poked their heads out to observe Ninaine, flying down, to shed her of her filthy clothes. She was sky-clad then and unashamed. The heaviness in her heart alleviated with each step taken. When out of the tunnel, she was blinded by moon light. The air was warm as if she stepped into a summer night, skipping all the seasons in between. There were no longer willow trees, only elders more tall and ancient than imagined. Their white petals drifted like snow, down onto a great loch. Lily's drifted on the water as the waves lapped upon the shore.
She could hear the singing from the lake. Ninaine walked unafraid to the water's edge, seeing her reflection only to marvel at the beauty staring back at her. Fiery red hair moved unnaturally as if in water, and her skin glowed. Ninaine strode into the water until completely submerged. Not a ripple was left in reminiscence; no single indication she was ever there. The willows fell back into place, and the way to the lake disappeared along with Ninaine. Later on this scene would be recanted by the greatest bard in history, and would be immortalized in story and song.
"O' Ninaine, maidservant with the fearless of hearts,
Gaze into the lake and see it reflect all ancient stars.
The Goddess! Oh, she calls to you!
And whispers out your name.
'Come now closer, child. Forget you are Ninaine.
Look upon the waters and see your truest face.
Rest down your burdens, for this is sacred space.
You know the name of this lake, that's not a lake.
You are much more, wander forward and this power take.'
O' Ninaine, you forgot it all just then!
Lost all sorrow and strife made by mortal men.
When you stepped forward and took what was to take,
You became much more; became Lady of the Lake."
-------------
Merlin adjusted his boots, noticing holes were forming. He'd worn them down in his search, every inch of him threatened to freeze over in the freshly fallen snow. Though he surprised himself with how much ground he managed to cover. It was difficult to traverse and make his way to find King Leodegrance of Carhaix when every bit of scenery looked the same; that endless white. He smiled fondly, knowing he'd be back in his home kingdom of Carmelide. He walked passed a small farmhouse, and he saw children playing at making angels in the snow. He smiled a moment, watching them and remembering his youth before he had to press on. When the quest came-a-calling, there was no time to dally. 
In the early morning, Merlin had a rude awakening when a herd of stags came stampeding towards him. Without thinking he immediately cocooned himself in a sphere of ice he made from the surrounding snow. Thick chunks broke and fell as it shook from their mighty hooves pounding down. He covered his eyes and ears until it was over. Timidly emerging from his shell, he peeked out to see the icy field completely trampled, along with the only rations he'd manage to scrounge up. He kicked his ruined food in frustration, cursing all the stags. He realized why the stags were so spooked when hearing Ambrosius calling from above, circling as he swept down to ground. Merlin lost his footing from the great puff of air released from the dragon's wings.
"Ambrosius!" Merlin grinned surprised by its presence, rubbing its snout affectionately. "You've cause me some grief," he looked back to his fallen rations. The dragon sniffed indignantly, as if to say I've no hand in it.  "Will you fly me to Carhaix?" Ambrosius blew out its snout as if put out by the request, yet lowering its body for Merlin to mount. All at once the wind pushed against him as they raised up high to find their way. Merlin couldn't help but laugh with all being sped ahead. All too soon the journey there came to an end, and Ambrosius descended a few leagues away from the closed gates of Carhaix. Leading up to it were orchards of barren apple trees laying parallel on either side of a singular path leading up to it. The way was broken only by a frozen moat. He sighed, wondering how he'd get them to open the city gates. King Leodegrance was kindly from what he grew up hearing, though completely forgettable. He wasn't a threat to anyone really, and Merlin wondered why now he'd close his gates to those who might've sought refuge. "Hello?" Merlin called up to the battlements. No one replied or even came to check who called at the gate. He sat there for some time before shooting up at the sound of the icicles hanging on the apple trees beginning to clamber and crash to the ground. 
In the distance he could hear voices of a thousand men howling as they marched towards the very gates he sat at. Drums accompanied them in their rhythmic march, sounding a threat to the people within. Seeing no welcome from the city, Merlin crept through the trees and inched to the then halted army. He heard a sad song from the throngs of the army and there was no voice who could match the one he recognized so well. His eyes found his friend Carolan, he was chained to rows upon rows of people he recognized as the druids. They all looked gaunt, shivering against the biting cold of winter that their tattered clothes couldn't stay. Forgetting himself, Merlin emerged from his hiding spot and called to his long-lost friend, drawing eyes of the surrounding men.
"Merlin!" Carolan's eyes lit up at the sight of him; all sorrow seemingly banished. One man brought up a battle axe to the unsuspecting Merlin, screaming out as he brought it down. Fortunately, Merlin was getting quicker in wielding his magick and the elements around him came to his aid with a swing of his hand. The snow, again hardened, shooting the man down. Another, much larger than any man he'd seen, took up his blade and Carolan called out to Merlin in warning. He fell back in the snow, again cocooning himself within as the man picked through it with alarming strength. His golden braided hair swung with each movement. Carolan could be heard singing furiously and soon the barrages stopped long enough for Merlin to move away. The man chased Merlin around, both slipping on the snow as the army circled in and cheered them on, watching in entertainment. Soon tiring, Merlin had no choice but to face the other man. Though he didn't wish to hurt anyone else. He fell to his knees before him, pressing his bare hands into the snow. They quickly reddened in irritation as his magick infused with it, creeping up around the man's legs and locking him in place. The men cheered at Merlin's apparent victory against the giant.
"Simply exquisite!" A man from ahead of the army exited a stage coach. Everyone quieted at his approach. His three knights flanked behind, clad completely in armour; one of red, one of blue, and one of green. Though he couldn't see their faces, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords were clearly seen. "Are you frightened?" He laughed, eyes widening in spotting Merlin watching them warily. "After your display, never-you-mind these brutes." He knocked on one of their helmets to emphasize his point. "They're as dumb as nails and as slow as snails." Merlin saw in him a madness he'd only come to associate with Lludd, though this man seemed to revel in it. He then bowed in a low theatrical sort of way, introducing himself as King Rience of the many isles, and of north Wales. 
"I am Merlin," he returned. "And you have my friends prisoner."
"And you killed one of my men, and nearly froze poor Alois over. What do we do now?" Rience smiled in amusement. Alois the giant scrunched his bird-like nose when watching Rience pull out a key resting on a chain around his neck, swinging it back and forth as if to entice him. Merlin thought of something then, from what little he gathered, Rience was a theatrical man. Looking for excitement in whatever way he could find. He fell to his knees in false reverence, forcing his eyes to the back of head as he pretended to convulse. Luckily for Merlin, Carolan caught on quick. 
"Look, Palamedes!" He called in exaggeration. "You are a druid, and know magick when you see it! Can it be that Merlin is having a vision?" The druid boy cleared his throat before answering.
"Oh, my! Yes, indeed!" The other druids chimed in as well, building the anticipation of his theatrics. Merlin reached a dramatic hand to the air and pretended as if his breath just returned to him. 
"King Rience!" He reached for him, "Oh, I have seen you, mighty one. Conquerer of Carmelide, killer of…foes!" He improvised. "I am your humble servant." A satisfied smirk spread across the king's face as he tossed the key to Merlin. 
"You will all serve me now," said Rience, returning to his stage coach. Merlin quickly set to work in unchaining Carolan and the druids, who each thanked him. Carolan introduced his friend Palamedes, and they shook each other's hand feeling an instant camaraderie after what just transpired. They were all cloaked and fed after, being told they were expected to fight in the siege come the morning. 
"How did you get here?" Merlin questioned Carolan as they ate around a small fire, ignoring the men who'd make mean remarks to the druids as they passed. Carolan sighed, explaining his adventure. He stayed with Ol'Wise for a time, learning to focus his magick in the meditation the little man led. They were able to start rebuilding the castle little by little. The crone who once served the dearg due had found her way through the willow forest once the enchantment was lifted, and she and Ol'Wise were able to make peace with one another before her time came to an end. Carolan was sitting by her side as she slipped into the next life, and she told him she saw a woman with fiery red hair standing with a child, looking down at her. She said she had a message that the crone needed to pass to Carolan. It was then he followed the sign, and made his way to Camelot as instructed. 
"I met Palamedes," he smiled to the druid. They seemed to be good friends by then, "I stumbled too close to their encampment and they wouldn't let me leave. They have to be wary, I understood. They couldn't risk letting their location being shared. And I, who was in no hurry to leave, didn't fight it. I stayed and learned much more from them. Though nothing compared to what you can do, Merlin." He praised. "I'm still confident in the little I've come to master. It's all thanks to the druids."
"Why were you all chained up by Rience? Far from Camelot for that matter." 
"We met Cara. She was with a contingent of knights, she stood up for everyone; helped convince them to leave. I was leading them back to Ol'Wise, I'm sure he's done a grand job of reconstructing everything. Anyway, we had to take shelter from the snow. We were captured in our search for one and here we are."
"I don't know what Rience's goal is," added Palamedes. "But I heard some men talking, he means to march to Camelot to meet with someone." 
"Camelot?" Merlin wondered. What business could he have there? He looked around, his army was strange as well. There were knights and soldiers a-plenty, but there were also saxons in his ranks. If the horde went there did that mean everyone was in trouble? Merlin shook the worry from his mind, looking to the city housing Leodegrance. "Tonight," Merlin leaned in. "We're escaping to the city tonight." The druids were all informed, and come the chilly night they waited until the right moment to make their escape. Merlin tried to lead them away, but was held back by Carolan, who shook his head while bringing a finger to his lips. The druids all lifted their shivering hands (no doubt still weak from their journey), calling down a tingling fog. When it was lifted, Merlin found them all safely at the city gates. Only the glow of camp fires could be seen of the army in the distance. "Hello!" Merlin called. "Please, let us in!"
"Who-is-it?" Chirped a surprisingly excited voice. Merlin shared a puzzled look with Palamedes. Her sweet sing-song tone was almost offensive with the army at their door-step.
"Er, Merlin?" 
"Just-a-minute!" She sang again, and quickly the draw bridge fell with a slam. They all had to clamber backwards in a rush, in fear of nearly being crushed to death. A lone girl stood with a pig at her side. "Hello, Merlin!" She smiled to Palamedes, who blanched when the pig went sniffling around his feet. 
"I'm not Merlin," he answered.
"Of course you're not," she gave a goofy smile, turning then to Carolan who quickly shook his head. "Oh----" She extended her syllable, pointing correctly this time. "Hello, Merlin!" With a small wave she seemed satisfied, and waved them all in. Once through the gate, she struggled to push the lever to close once more. Her pig squealed as if to encourage her. Instead, a man came behind, pulling with half the effort she exerted. 
"Princess Enid!" He reprimanded with a finger. "This is no way a lady of your stature is to act. How many times must you sneak away? And during such dangerous times, you nearly frightened your father half to death!" The pig lunged, biting at the mans ankles and tearing its head back and forth with insulted squeals. "Now, see here, Nosewise!" He held the pig up.
"Don't you yell at Nosewise," Enid huffed. Smiling again when seeing Merlin stand awkwardly behind them. "Have you met my friends?" She pointed to them. "Merlin, this is Sir Colgrevance." Merlin gave a slight wave when seeing the knight redden. He was probably more embarrassed he was acting like a nanny to the strange girl than a noble knight. He tucked the pig, Nosewise, under his arm and apologized to them all. 
"Were you out there long? We've little men to man the gates, let alone fight the horde outside. Had we known there were people seeking shelter, we'd have opened it at once. Though I don't know what sanctuary you'll find here." 
"I was actually hoping to meet King Leodegrance," replied Merlin. "I think I might be able to help." The druids, save for Palamedes were shown the way to somewhere they could rest. Merlin, Carolan, and Palamedes were then taken before the king who ran to his child and hugged her tightly, she was almost lost completely under the robes he wore. 
"I'm sorry, papa," said Enid, hugging him back. "You know how Nosewise puts me up to things." The pig squealed in protest from under Colgrevance's arm. Her father laughed, thanking the knight for finding his girl again. Another knight by the king's side (introducing himself a Sir Hoel), apologized for having let his cousin slip away so easily again. Leodegrance didn't seem to mind and looked upon the trio, kindly welcoming them to his hall. Merlin bowed his head respectfully, quickly explaining how they'd come to be in that situation. "I let them in," Enid announced proudly. She seemed so sheltered to Merlin; so aloof. He wondered what would've happened if it was someone more dangerous was at the gate instead of him. 
"I don't mean to alarm you," said Merlin. "But they plan to sack the city in the morning. We don't have much time." Leodegrance seemed to slump in defeat from the news. 
"You said you might be able to help," Colgrevance offered in attempt to rally his spirits. 
"Yes," Merlin nodded. "Though I don't know to what extent, I have magick. I'll do what I can against Rience's men, though I don't know if it'll do much." 
"Magick?" Enid stole herself from her father's side. "Can you teach me?" Merlin backed away, not knowing how to let the girl down gently. Magick couldn't be taught to just anyone. "All I can do so far is this," she snapped her fingers and a small flame sparked and quickly fizzled. Palamedes and Carolan huddled around her, asking questions about her talent.
"I didn't even know I had magick until recently," Palamedes admitted. "That's more than I would've learned if I didn't have the elders to teach me."
"I'm afraid she'll hurt herself," Leodegrance broke through their praises. "Her mother,  rest her soul, also had magick. She suppressed it all her life, fearing it evil.. One night I woke to her in flames, screaming. Her magick consumed her. I don't wish the same to happen to my Enid. Though practically a woman, I know I've sheltered her far too much." Their musings broke from a loud crashing sound. Everything shook beneath them before a long silence followed. Then, as if the gates of hell broke loose, screams came from the city. The castle bell rang, signalling an invasion. 
"I thought you said we had until morning!" Sir Hoel growled, running to lead his men out to stay the flooding army. Nosewise squealed in panic, tearing out from Colgrevance and running into Enid's arms. 
"Sir Colgrevance!" Leodegrance ordered, "My armour." He turned to his daughter, pressing a loving hand into her cheek. A rare somber expression crossed her face before she smiled again. "Whatever you intend to do, I suggest you do it now. There may be no time later." The king and his knights rushed out of the castle. Merlin looked to Palamedes, Carolan and Enid who looked to him expectantly. There wasn't much time to teach them much of any magick, he knew. But he didn't want to betray their confidence by revealing the doubt he felt. 
"My people might be able to buy them some time out there, but we really should plan something," Palamedes urged. 
"Friends," Enid spoke with a smile. "Why don't we just ask them to leave?" They gawked at her naivety, wondering if she only jested or was being serious. She placed Nosewise on her father's throne, pressing a kiss to its snout before she marched out the door. 
"Enid!" Merlin chased after her, realizing she was all too serious. 
"That really isn't a good idea, princess." Carolan added gently. As if in a world of her own she stepped out into the street, stopping only when seeing the magnetitude of the situation. The smile that always came so easily to her began to slip off her face by and by until naught was left. Her eyes widened in horror, and as if petrified into stone, she froze. Women ran from the wild saxons, screaming in distress when they were cut down. Children huddled under wagons to seek refuge from the desolation. Death, death, so much death. Her fear did a strange thing then, opposite of Merlin's own would've done. It led her towards the danger; deeper into its grasp. The three boys ran after her when seeing she walked straight towards her father who fought against Alois, the very saxon who'd almost gotten the better of Merlin.
"Papa," Merlin could hear her call weakly. Both Alois and Leodegrance noticed her, and both raced to her side. Whoever reached her first would decide Enid's fate. But Alois was taller; not weighed down by armour like her father. And he was on her in an instance. Her father cried out in horror, unable to save her. And Enid, in whatever emotion carried in her, let out a great cry. Merlin could feel the magick resonating from it, and Alois was sent flying back in her primal use of the craft. Leodegrance rushed to her side then, leading her back to the safety Merlin offered to provide. After seeing such a display, an idea came to him. He took hold of Enid's hand in an effort to make sure she didn't rush off on her own again in foolish innocence. He looked back to the castle, gazing up to the high tower. 
"Merlin?" Palamedes questioned. Yes, he pieced his idea together. The druids were a tight-knit community and their magick was strongest when used together. The battle could not be won with the small amount of men Leodegrance commanded. They would need one-hundred men over to even have a chance at winning.
Or one dragon, Merlin thought. He led them back into the castle wordlessly, running up the steps as fast as he could. Nosewise, having seen them return, rushed after his mistress in delight. They reached the top of the tower at last, and Merlin told them of his plan.
"It'll be up to you to call Ambrosius, Carolan," he said. "The magick we pour in you might be overwhelming, but you can't stop no matter what. We need to make sure Ambrosius hears." With a determined nod Palamedes, Enid, and Merlin joined hands and closed their eyes, willing all their magick to the surface in a fervent struggle. So powerful was their combined strength that the wind whipped up about them, and poor Nosewise had to retreat back in case it flew off the tower.
"O', Ambrosius, hear our plea,
Help us banish cruel company,
O' dragon-great, please hear our call,
Smite evil down, once and for all." 
The wind died when his song came to an end, and the battle below still raged on. The druids had helped the people below with their magick, but could only do so much against the constant waves of men. 
"Look," Enid pointed in the distance. And Ambrosius let loose his mighty call, gliding to the tower to allow the magick-users on his back. He was the keeper of the skies, staying true to the seer who'd freed him from an evil fate. When safely secured, he swooped down at the scattering army in a fury. Landing between one side and the other with a loud crash. The attacking army backed away as Ambrosius snarled, letting loose a wild plume of smoke in warning. With the changing tide of the battle, Rience's men fled back from whence they came. The horde picked up and left the city at once, sparing them nary a second thought. Behind Ambrosius, the men cheered loudly and the surviving city inhabitants celebrated. 
"Ambrosius, you did it!" Merlin laughed, slapping hands with Carolan and Palamedes in victory. He looked to Enid who held the same smile she had when he met her at the gate. "We did it Enid! You were amazing, too!" 
"Yes," she agreed. "I think I want to marry you." He blanched. 
After a fortnite, they were invited to hold council with Leodegrance in his court. Between that time, Palamedes, Carolan, Enid and Nosewise took to following Merlin around like lost puppies. He tried his best to teach them all he knew, and would take them out to the frozen apple orchard. There, they all found peace in the stillness of the wild. Enid especially seemed more focus when not locked away in her castle. 
Finally arriving to court, they were welcomed once more by the kindly king. He offered them food and drink before he asked him what boon he could offer them. Carolan wanted nothing, and shook his head respectfully. 
"I would only ask for shelter this winter for my people," Palamedes bowed his head. 
"You will always find a home hereafter," Leodegrance said, but they had a heading already, only accepting to be homed for the season. Leodegrance nodded, respecting their decision. "And you, wise seer? What boon might be given to one so powerful?" Merlin thought, only to be thrown back by his own magick by the strongest vision he'd ever have.

Lancelot seemed to have no time at all for Cara in recent days. He was whisked in every-which-way by anyone who could get their hands on him. The foreign nobleman grew more popular than before when they came back from their quest. Though nothing really changed for Cara afterward, only having gained a bit more of a right to train on the grounds with every other knight. Only Percival and Dinadan spoke to her in adoration at how she handled herself. Though the only thing she could think she achieved on that trip was getting a sore throat. At the end of her days, she would rub at her bruised neck, remembering how Hubert's large hands squeezed around it. Would she ever stop being so useless, she wondered? King Uther seemed to be happy with the outcome at any rate, that was all that mattered. 
One day, she was retrieved from the training ground by Gareth and Gaheris. Agravaine had summoned her. She looked to Dinadan who only offered a half-hearted smile before she set off to find out what it was all about. Gareth and Gaheris told her Mordred spoke highly of her, and then they offered their sincerest apologies that a man in their ranks would attack her. 
"You're well known to our men," one of the twins said. "As our friend, they should know better than to lay a hand on you. You should have seen how angry Agravaine got." 
"Don't worry," assured another. "Hubert has been taken care of." Cara didn't wish to know what they meant completely fine at being left in the dark about his fate. Soon, enough they came to his door, knocking only once before letting themselves in. Their eldest brother was clearly annoyed by their lack of courtesy, and quickly rolled up what seemed to be a hastily written message. He stood, welcoming Cara and offering her a seat.
"Are you thirsty? I hear you've been working hard under Sir Dinadan's tutelage." He poured her some water. She looked into the glass before hesitantly drinking it. "I wanted to apologize for.." he pointed to his neck, alluding to her bruises. She waved away his apologies, wanting to conclude their business as soon as possible. He poured himself a glass of water as well, leaning back in his chair as he looked at her while drinking. She shifted uncomfortably when realizing he meant to take his time. "I'm very interested in getting to know you."
"I'm not that interesting," she set down her glass, hoping to dissuade him from prying. He was the last person she trusted with information of her destiny. 
"Where are you even from? What led you to Camelot?" She looked back to the twins who laid lazily on his bed, one seemed ready to fall asleep, and the other had his nose stuck in a book. 
"I doubt you've heard of it." 
"I doubt so, too," he agreed. "Well, Cara, you've proven yourself right. You're not that interesting. But you are loyal, and no one seems to take much notice of you." Everything he said about her was an insult, but the way he spoke it made it sound like praises. "I want you to work for me; work for the world I am to build." 
"I don't think--" she began, only to be interrupted. 
"Before you refuse me, I want you to hear everything I'm offering," he held up a hand. "You will have a home in Orkney, and never want for anything. Everything your heart desires will be provided. In addition, you will have access to all the weaponries in our barracks as well as knowledge from our very capable instructors." Cara gaped at the offer, finding she could only sit there with her mouth opening and closing constantly. "If that doesn't satisfy you, then I will also add that when the treaty is finally signed, I will use my power vested in me to knight you." Her jaw practically dropped then, and all she could imagine was her donning a light suit of armour, topped with the black cape all knights of Orkney wore. 
"Me?" She could scarcely manage. "A knight?" Agravaine looked so pleased with himself, finally understanding one thing that might reel her into his world. Cara wanted nothing more than to be called a knight. Slowly, her reserved face brightened. With a nod and a slow smile, Agravaine held out his his hand. With only a slight hesitation she shook it.
Just outside his door, Gawain could be heard muttering to himself as he paced outside his brothers chambers. Agravaine, still delicately holding Cara's hand in his, motioned for one of the twins to open the door. His pacing yielding only by the twin who tore open the way. Gawain stepped through, pausing when seeing Cara in their company. As if remembering herself, she yanked away her hand. Agravaine stood to meet him, wearing nothing but a bored expression. 
"You heard me?" Gawain guffawed.
"Your steps are so heavy I thought an ogre had been invading the castle," he folded his arms tiredly, sparing only a smirk when Cara nodded. "What do you need?" Again, Gawain paused to look to Cara. His concern was waved away by Agravaine, promising that she was loyal to them. It felt so strange to hear but it was true, she couldn't believe Agravaine had ever incited such a negative emotion from her. She supposed her life would be his once she was knighted. He'd the means to pave any path for the golden age, and the one who was meant to lead them to it.
Perhaps he is the chosen one, she mused again, looking upon him with adoration. His short neatly-parted hair only served to accentuate his features. Cara felt a slight heat rise to her cheeks when Gawain cleared his throat to continue.
"Do you know?" Gawain looked back to the door. 
"Do I know of what?" 
"Of Guinevere.. and Lancelot?" Cara stiffened. 
"Naturally. I did try my best to keep her away from the brute. Forgive me, Cara, I know he's your friend," Agravaine barely looked back to her as he explained. "I've other, more pressing matters to attend to, brother. I cannot play nurse to the little princess and chase her about at all times." Gawain was plainly angry, and for once Agravaine seemed to lose his composure in trying to explain himself.
"She is our cousin, how could you be so indifferent?" Gawain looked like he wanted to pound his head in, but he didn't. "You've changed ever since coming here- perhaps even before, Even if our people call you Hard Hand,  you're were always compassionate, too. This war has changed you." Agravaine folded his arms behind his back, waiting for Gawain to finish. "She will be ruined," he said, finally returning to Guinevere.
"What do you wish me to do about the matter? Her.. condition will be difficult to hide. And I've plans to attend to; people that need meeting, alliances that must be formed!"
"Then marry her, don't let her fall to ruin. You'll gain two kingdoms respectively all while saving our family's honour." Gawain suggested. Finally, Agravaine bristled at the thought, glancing to Cara who watched the argument in anticipation.
"You'd have me tarnish my own honour in favour of hers?" Agravaine continued with calculating eyes until Gawain nodded in reply.  Again, Agravaine looked back to Cara, this time he offered her a hand. She took it gladly, standing with his help as he offered her the most courteous smile he could muster. Though it was tight and the tension in his shoulders plain. "If you'd excuse us, dear. I wanted to help you pack for your journey ahead but I've so many pressing things, I've hardly any time for myself." 
"Journey?" Cara tilted her head in curiosity. Agravaine brought a hand to his forehead as if he'd made a mistake. Of course it wasn't a mistake, she doubted he ever made one. He lead her to the door, explaining that a couple of squires would soon go on a quest to prove themselves worthy of knighthood and that if she was to be one, she'd have to prove herself, too. Eagerly wanting to impress him, she nodded her head. "Of course!" Soon she found herself alone in the hall, wanting to run back to find the squires who would undertake their important task. Instead, she allowed herself to creep towards the door, pressing her ear to listen. It was just a feeling she had; the ones that refused to be ignored.
"I planned to take Camelot already, but a marriage would be far more convenient," she heard Agravaine explain to his brothers. "Uther pushed family aside in favour of that fool-king, Pellinore. And to what end? Till our people suffered, starving, raped and murdered by those savages. Till our own mother turned a whore and slept with that filth! Till our father was murdered! Even now, I'd almost been poisoned, and he's yet to offer help in finding the culprit! Uther is weak, he is no wiser than Pellinore. I've friends, powerful friends, many who support me. Soon, Camelot will be ours." 
"What about the child Guinevere carries?"
"I am not so cruel as to kill children. She will go to a nunnery in the country, I know just the one. Only until she bares the child, then she will be allowed to return."Cara rushed away from the door, chiding herself for listening to that feeling she had. He was angry and bitter of the ruin the war had brought his people, that much she could understand. It was something she could identify with. But if he meant to marry Guinevere, that would bring about a peaceful resolution, wouldn't it? And Lancelot? What would happen to her friend then?
Cara found Percival and another squire named Griflet peering over old scrolls on the training field. Dinadan and Mordred stood over them with interest. With distracted greetings from both parties they continued looking over the parchments, speaking animatedly. Percival seemed the most enthusiastic of all.
"There are only two liable sources with mention of Corbenic," he stated. "The rest are fiction only."
"So, it could be real?" Dinadan asked, receiving an affirming nod from Griflet. 
"It's all here, written accounts recorded by the old kings of the Pendragon line." Cara held out her hand, and Percival let her look through it. 
"We know the way," assured Percival. "The journey will be a long one, however." He explained it as if he knew Cara would be tagging along even if she wasn't receiving a knighthood. There was absolutely no way she'd miss out on finding a lost kingdom. 
"What're we looking for, exactly?" She handed the parchment back. 
"That's the thing," Griflet rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "We don't rightly know." It wasn't long after that they found themselves ready to go. Cara, Percival, and Griflet waited in the courtyard for Dinadan who was tasked with grading their performances. They were to bring back a single treasure each for the king, to prove that they'd fulfilled their task. Cara patted her horse gently, remembering Merlin and Ninaine. Things seemed so much clearer with them at her side. With a sigh she looked out to the courtyard, having hoped to see Lancelot or Lionel once more before her journey. 
"Here comes Sir Dinadan." Percival nudged Griflet excitedly. Then in a low contemplative voice he said, "and Sir Mordred as well?" 
"You've everything you need?" Dinadan smiled, handing his bag to the tending stable boy to fasten onto his horse. They all nodded, eager to leave. "Sir Mordred will be joining us, it appears you boys won't be the only appointed knights." Agravaine came from out of nowhere, having had his presence well cloaked by the gate.
"He's to oversee you, Cara." Percival laughed, shaking hands with Mordred as if happy he were coming. She was glad the two of them could be friends. 
"It's good to have you ride with us," added Griflet. The shy boy seemed to shrink away from Agravaine's presence. Cara then turned to Agravaine expectantly, though what she waited for she couldn't place.
"I came to see both of you off," he explained, smiling tightly "I know you're still hesitant of me, but I hope to prove myself a worthy king to you one day, just as you seek to prove yourself as a worthy knight of Orkney."
"You've a secret you've yet to tell me," she said feeling that sinking feeling again. She was sure something was coming and it almost always involved Agravaine and his brothers.
"When you return, I wish to share all my secrets with you." Cara wondered if she could ever tell any of her friends made at Camelot the destiny she was bound to. "I can tell you,that everything will change once you've returned." As usual, his calculatingly even face betrayed nothing. She heard Dinadan call behind her that it was time to go.
"Farewell," she said and galloped off. 
-----------
All throughout the night Agravaine held his solemnity, hardly speaking beyond one word answers. Though not uncommon, anyone trying to interact with the would-be-king could feel his distance. His brothers abandoned their efforts of socializing with him, continuing their livelier conversations together. He sat at the table with a far off look, swirling the contents of his goblet idly. All Agravaine was focused on was ascending the throne, the one in Orkney was so far away, and he couldn't be christened without being there. But he'd no wish to abandon his plans in Camelot just yet. He knew with patience, Uther and his Pendragon line would be pushed aside in favour of his own. He gulped down his wine, slightly slamming his goblet onto the wooden table. His brothers beside him jumped, and Guinevere yelped in start. She laughed afterwards, getting her parents and her cousins to chime in.
"Finally decided to stop brooding have you?" Guinevere smiled, not goading much of a reaction from Agravaine.
"Finally remembered you had a family?" He countered.
"Why are you bullying me?" Guinevere sniffed, looking down to her lap. Gaheris wrapped a loving arm around his little cousin.
"There, there," he said soothingly, sending a glare towards his eldest brother. "You know how Agravaine gets."
"What's gotten into you, nephew?" Ygrayne took his hand in concern. No one seemed to take a liking to his snappish behaviour towards Guinevere. 
"You have been alienating yourself more," confirmed Uther, only looking to Guinevere instead of Agravaine. It was so easy to gain Uther's confidence, the fool had come to be far too trusting in his old age. Guinevere refused to meet her father's stare, and for a moment Agravaine wondered why she was able to confide in Gawain about her condition and not him? He had to learn of all her dealings through spies laid throughout the castle.
"Guinevere? Dear?" Her mother reached for her hand. It was then tears began to fall from her eyes, Agravaine's harshness and her father's suspicious glances seemed to prove too much for her.
"Shall I tell them, or will you?" Agravaine spoke finally, earning worried glances from his uncle and aunt. Of course Guinevere could nary speak through her then racking sobs, and Agravaine almost relished in the way Uther slumped. Guinevere and Lancelot's secrets were spilled then and there, and it took everything in him not to laugh as he spoke it. 
"You have shamed me," said Uther, glowering down at his daughter.
"God have mercy!" Ygrayne cried. The room grew silent as both women cried, the tension was suffocating.
"Guards!" Uther called, and at once his men came marching in. "Find Lancelot and do not leave his side until he is gone from Camelot. Do you hear me? Tell him he returns under pain of death." They hurried off at his order.
"No!" Guinevere cried even harder, finding refuge in Gareth's arms. Agravaine brought a consoling hand to his aunt and uncle both.
"It is a sad thing, to see him go. But his actions cannot be forgiven. Do not despair, I've taken precautionary steps to retain the honour of your house." Uther looked to him, still fuming but hopeful to find some semblance of relief from the devastating news. "I've already contacted the abbess, the one on the mountain pass. It's well hidden, and not many know of it. She will be safe there. It is a quaint place but it'll do her good. She's agreed to house and teach Guinevere."
"Who will wish to even think about courting her now? She is ruined." Uther looked to his nephew, still hopeful. After a pregnant pause, he gave an exaggerated sigh.
"To shield your honour..I will take Guinevere." All at once they thanked him; a worshipping look in their eyes. Uther claimed he could have no better heir than Agravaine himself.
"What about what I want? I don't want to marry Agravaine, I want Lancelot!" Guinevere stood from her seat, stamping her foot as if finding her courage at last.
"You forfeited any right of wanting the moment you betrayed this family," Uther silenced his daughter with a glare. She slunk back into her seat and their dinner concluded in silence.
----------
With Lancelot banished from the city, and Guinevere enroute to the abbey, Agravaine could feel his rising power. Uther and Ygrayne were in the palm of his hand, and there wasn't a thought he couldn't plant in their minds. Even some knights of Camelot were weak to his silver-tongue, most notably Sir Ector of Camelot. He swore allegiance to him, promising he'd enlist more knights of Camelot for when the time came. He was a good ally to have, despite his brash nature, being very rich; holding two duchies under his rule. His support would sway the lesser nobles for certain. On one particularly snowy night, he invited his allies to convene. Agravaine, his brothers, Sir Ector, Alois, and King Rience stood around in wait for their last man. Finally he came still hooded by his cloak from journeying. The only thing Agravaine could make from the man was a large ring worn around his thick fingers, and tattoos reaching to the back of his hand. 
"Gentleman, welcome." All looked around to one another with courteous smiles. The still-hooded man walked closer, heavy crunches from the snow came with each step taken. His shoulders swayed with confidence until finally he revealed himself. Agravaine had almost forgotten how he looked, it'd been so long since they were last face-to-face. Strange markings riddled his face, and his beard was long and braided. The sides of his head were shaved, but the tuff of hair that sat at the top was long enough to reach his lower back; it too, was braided. He smiled at them, revealing gleaming gold teeth. He was Maleagant, Chief of the Belgae tribe. They were foe to all, friend to none. How Agravaine managed to even convince them to join his cause, even he did not know. They all gaped toward the chieftain. 
"Well, I'll be," Ector laughed once more. Taking the first step he extended his hand to Maleagant, who didn't spurn him. He gripped it tightly, Agravaine noted as Ector winced, though he still forced a smile. "Welcome," he said after winning back his hand.
"I thank King Agravaine for the invitation." His gold smile turned to Agravaine, who simply nodded politely.
"King of Orkney, yes, but not Camelot, Maleagant. I thank you all the same, but if we are to be friends, let us not refer to each other by our titles." They spoke of the numbers they carried each at their back, though none were so much as the saxons and belgae who both had five thousand each, more-or-less.
"We are ten thousand strong," the Chief spoke proudly, counting their numbers together. That was well above what they needed. Agravaine had Orkney backing him completely, as well as Lothian, a kingdom promised to Gawain. And since Gawain was in support of his brother, the right to it fell to Agravaine.
"We are ready," Agravaine said at last. 
The next morning he attended Uther's court. Listening to the unimportant problems the smaller people brought to their king. Agravaine noted his aunt looking smaller and frailer, knowing she'd been crying every night since her little princess was sent away. When it came to an end, Uther called one last time to the people in attendance as he always did.
"Who else would like to take the chance to speak?" 
"I would," Agravaine stepped forward, his brother's at his back. Little did Uther know, as his court was in attendance the coup had already begun. Men still loyal to Uther were collected, those who didn't swear allegiance were thrown in the cell for Agravaine to speak to later on. There little point in wasting good men, especially if he knew he could convince just about anyone to believe what he liked. Uther smiled tiredly, nodding to give him leave to speak. Here, at long last, Agravaine let his courteous mask slip from his face; all bitterness held was directed at his uncle. "You, Uther Pendragon, are craven." The court fell into a hushed outrage, and Uther's smile slipped.
"Excuse me?" He nearly spat.
"You, who claim to love and honour family above all else, refused to take the side of your brother-in-law-- our father! Even when he and Pellinore slaughtered each other, under your roof!" Agravaine advanced, stepping higher until he was but a step before Uther, who backed away until he fell back on his throne. "You, who abandoned your daughter in her greatest time of need." 
"You have no right!" Ygrayne came to her husband's aid. The doors to the court was thrown open, and people screamed as Rience, Alois, Maleagant, and Ector stormed in. Rience let out a howl of laughter as a flock of ladies nearly stumbled away at the sight of him brandishing a bloodied sword. Their men came swarming in behind them, forcing everyone to kneel as those involved in the coup approached the throne. Agravaine plucked the crown off Uther's head, turning to look at it closer; ignoring Maleagant who smothered Ygrayne with a meaty hand, and Rience who thrust his sword into Uther's chest. Again, the court screamed, and Agravaine inhaled deeply in satisfaction as he slowly placed the crown atop of his own head.