Britain

3,035 years since initial death
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It was a shot in the dark that started it.

The Saxon archers aimed towards the sky and pulled back the strings of their bows, releasing a wave of arrows that vanished in the dark abyss of the night sky. The Britons had their shields ready, but the arrow volley was devastating.

Several Britons were immediately killed after the attack. The most important part was keeping the Saxons away from the castle walls for as long as possible, but that was harder than it seemed.

Right after the archers, the catapults were already loaded and ready to open fire. Merlin watched them from the wall, bracing for impact, but that moment never came. The catapults remained in position as far more Saxons appeared to approach the castle. 

Underneath the walls, the rest of the Saxons had already charged towards the gates, readying their ladders. The Britons already suffered enough casualties from the onslaught of incoming arrow volleys. Waiting for the sun to rise was a death sentence if this massacre continues.

Arthur stood his ground behind the front gate with his battalion. Merlin kept his guard, carefully watching a few Saxons ready a ladder. It was no longer a matter of stopping the Saxons from breaking through; that was now inevitable. Instead, they must focus on survival for as long as possible. Until the sun rises, not one Saxon is allowed to advance further from beyond their gate.

"Whatever comes through that gate," Arthur spoke loudly, clearly preparing to land a far better speech than Merlin's last attempt to boost morale, "we stand our ground! I could care less if these Saxon barbarians summon forth a dragon to incinerate our forces, we fall for no one!"

The first Saxon ladder was raised, and it was quickly toppled by the Briton guards. However, more were already being set up alongside it. The constant barrage of arrows made it difficult to keep knocking the ladders down.

"Today shall mark the day we defend our home with our lives! Whatever name you call it by, Camelot shall be defended! Remember your families, your loved ones, your sons and daughters. Imagine what those savages would do to your wives. Will you let them tear apart everything you ever stood and lived for? Will you allow them to burn your homes and slaughter your women and children?"

Every Briton at the gate stood by in silence, but internally, they wanted to shout along. Merlin did the same. Nobody is willing to let that happen, not today, nor ever. As the Saxons began ramming the front gate, they prepared for the bloodbath ahead.

"If you ever want to sit by that fancy round table in our Great Hall ever again, you will raise your blade!"

They raised their arms, holding their weapons in the air.

"Now say it with me! Say it with pride and passion, loud enough to remind these Saxons who they're about to face. Answer me this! Who are we?"

Everyone proudly cheered along. Even Merlin heard it and found a moment to join in. "Knights!"

"I said, who are we?!" Arthur's voice reigned over them all.

"Knights!"

"We are Knights of Britain! We are Knights of Somerset! We are Knights of Camelot! And may our Lord damn us all if we aren't Knights of the Round Table!"

Just as he said it, the front gate collapsed. Their walls were breached. The Saxons were finally here.

Both sides charged headfirst into battle. If this was a fight of bravery, then Arthur had already won. His knights followed him into combat, swinging their swords violently against the invaders.

Swords clashed during the fight, the Britons were easily getting outnumbered by the overwhelming force of the Saxons. More Saxons were beginning to flood not only the court, but also the walls. It was an onslaught as blood was spilled and men screamed in agony.

Briton engineers were on standby to assist while the guards mounted the ballistae atop the castle walls. They aimed at the battalions of soldiers, attempting to stop them from advancing any further.

Merlin watched the ballistae strike through the men like a scythe would slice through wheat. It was a gruesome display, but it had to be done. However, when he looked back up, he realized the Britons had just made a mistake. 

Shrouded in the darkness, the Saxon catapults managed to avoid detection as the main riot at the gate attracted everyone's attention. Finally close enough to open fire, every single catapult unleashed its payload, hurling devastating waves of boulders against the castle.

The front wall was targeted, and a powerful impact occurred. Merlin had no time to brace or evacuate, getting caught in the rumble as boulders smashed against his surroundings. The forceful impact caused him to fall backwards off the wall and into the hillfort's interior where his allies continued to hold the fight.

Merlin spent what felt like a minute desperately trying to stand back up as a ringing sound pierced through his ears. Dust clouded his vision, and the war cries of a hundred warriors brought him back to reality. His hands were still stained with his substance mixed with another thick liquid he had smeared before the raid.

He lost his sword during the fall. He quickly turned his head to find a weapon. But only one particular object caught his eyesight. 

From the previous debris, a large and sturdy wooden staff sat next to Merlin. One end was round enough to use as a blunt weapon, while the other end remained sharp. He slowly inspected it, gripping it tightly as the wind around him intensified slightly. His grey cloak draped along with the frosty morning air, even causing his beard to rustle as he looked back towards the gate.

Without warning, a Saxon already charged towards him. Using the hard end of the staff, Merlin struck the soldier's head with it, taking him down to the ground. With a quick twirl, he jabbed the sharp end into the Saxon's chest.

Several more Saxon knights arrived to take on Merlin as he readied his new staff. He was easily able to topple down two soldiers at once by shoving them with the staff sideways. Spinning the staff helped too, as both ends would end up striking his targets, either knocking them out or stabbing them; or even both. Single handedly, he had defeated every Saxon soldier that dared face him. Merlin kept his chin up, still carrying his staff as he looked for Arthur.

Saxon archers continued to surround the castle walls, raining down more volleys of arrows each minute. The Briton defense was already broken, as the battle continued to lean towards the Saxon's favor. Most of the fighting had finally made it past the gates as it reached the very core of the fort.

Arthur had stood his ground well, using his entire arsenal to his advantage. One by one, every man that challenged him fell to his death. Bashing his enemies with his shield, slashing their legs with his sword, impaling soldiers with his spear, then pulling it out and throwing it at another; Arthur showed no mercy.

But by the looks of it, Arthur was becoming exhausted. No one could possibly continue to fight like this forever. During the massacre, Author's voice boomed after Merlin. "Where's that bloody sun of yours?! The only light we shall be seeing is the light of the afterlife at this rate!"

Merlin had took off for the nearest staircase leading to the top of the walls. Chaos and anarchy continued to surround him as he desperately looked out onto the horizon. But when his eyes saw it, they widened. Then, he couldn't help but laugh.

"It's coming, Arthur!" He shouted with pride as loud as he could. "Here comes the sun! Come on!"

His excitement slowly outshined his anxiety. If he had done everything correctly, then he'd single handedly ended the siege with a Briton victory. Staring at the glimmer of bright orange appear from beyond the edge of the world, he raised his hands in the air.

"Are you surrendering Merlin?!" Arthur yelled from behind. "What is supposed to happen next? We're getting slaughtered down-"

He was silenced. The unthinkable happened. Merlin's raised hands suddenly burst into flames.

"Oh Christ." Arthur uttered no more words.

Merlin on the other hand continued to laugh, keeping his flaming hands high up as he looked down at the battle. The fire didn't even damage him, he was perfectly fine. His plan worked. This is what he wanted.

"Keep our men back Arthur! Let these Saxons rush inside if they want, we've already won!"

They probably thought he had gone mad. The wizard had lost his mind.

But what the Britons failed to notice was the sudden smoke that was beginning to form from the north. No catapults were launched north of the hillfort. However, a fire there was already raging seemingly out of nowhere.

That's when they saw it. The fire was rapidly spreading in a perfect line, curving around the edges of the castle until it reached the front gate.

A ring of fire had formed around Cadbury once sunlight had reached it.

The gate corrupted into flames, catching every single Saxon soldier by surprise as they found themselves combust. The ground they walked on had been set ablaze by the forces of nature. But that wasn't all.

The fire continued to spread further along, forming a secondary ring around the outer layer of the hillfort. It reached the Saxon catapults, setting the machinery and several of the archers on fire.

"That's the power of the Roman Empire, you sick barbarian fucks!" Merlin screamed from the walls, watching the world burst into flames due to his own creation.

Several Saxon soldiers who were able to avoid the flames looked around in fear and confusion. They saw the mad wizard stand above them with a raging fire in his hands. He was completely unfazed by it.

A roar of fire erupted from the gates, burning higher than the walls Merlin stood over.

The remaining Saxon survivors ran in retreat, seeing that a majority of their forces had succumbed to the flames. They had no reason to keep fighting. Of the hundreds that arrived, only a few dozen were left alive. The holy ring of fire had killed them all off within a matter of minutes.

Every single Briton ran to the walls, watching the fire continue to rage outside. Then, they all turned their attention towards Merlin. Ever Arthur couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Merlin was still standing there, now clenching his wooden staff. His hands were still on fire, and now his staff burst into flames just as well. It was beginning to hurt him. The fire had finally gotten to him as it spread along his unprotected arms.

His joyful laughs and wrathful hatred diminished, leaving only a distant frown on his face as he silently groaned in pain. Furthermore, his eyes were staring down below at something. There was an unwelcome presence stalking him, and he could see it clearly.

Just as the Britons behind applauded him, Merlin suddenly screamed. It was a raw, agonizing cry of pain. He dropped his staff as he frantically patted himself all over.

He surrendered to the fire, and his fear had grown to unreachable limits. He couldn't hold it in any longer. Finally, he lost his balance and fell forward.

He plummeted straight into the massive raging fire underneath him.

His body collided towards the hard solid ground, rendering him dead on impact as the flames finished him off. But in the short moment before his death, he caught a glimpse of the bright menacing figure that stood within the ashes of destruction. It wasn't human, rather it was a manifestation of his sin.

From beyond the flames, a golden-furred lion watched him burn. It grunted in disappointment atop his charred remains.

No one could see it as it turned around and walked away from the immortal man that had just killed himself with his own flames.

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Historical Notes:

Sieges were a common occurrence as the rule of the Saxons continued to spread rapidly. Those who resisted were often targeted for mass assaults and conflicts for dominance and control.

While a majority of sieges could last for multiple days, weeks, months and even years, some were incredibly short. The shortest war in history for instance lasted for nearly forty minutes in 1896!

Medieval Ballista (left) and Catapult (right)

Fire is used as a great offensive and defensive substance in times of war. Whether it was to lay down traps or simply rely on nature for the rest, it was effective at stopping entire armies.

The substance used in this chapter is an early form of Greek Fire simply called 'Automatic Fire'. It's a self-igniting tar that can simply be lit by the mere presence of sunlight and adequate heat. 

The Ancient Romans used the offensive/defensive strategy with fire to a new level with Automatic Fire. They would smear it over their own swords, causing their blades to ignite. Furthermore, scouts would infiltrate enemy forts at night and smear the fire over enemy equipment. Once the sun rises in the morning, everything will burst into flames, rendering the enemy vulnerable to an easy surprise attack.

Finding and gathering all the right ingredients and strategizing the usage of Automatic Fire soon made it unreliable, especially given its dangerous properties and its willingness to ignite so often. It was replaced by proper Greek Fire, invented in the mid 7th century, allowing weaponry such as grenades and other incendiaries to become an important part of combat. 

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