~<>~

It took them two weeks of travel before they could made the crossing to England. She hadn't been back since she was a little girl and it should have felt more significant than it did. Though this was her homeland, she didn't have any special affinity for it. Honestly, she was more Frankish than English at this point. Her thick accent would make anyone in England assume she was from the continent.

For all their travels, Merlin had avoided England. The Apprentice had always been curious about the capitol of Camelot and the busyness of the port city of Londinium. Merlin however, made it clear it was a topic he wouldn't discuss. The Apprentice assumed it was to protect them from the purges the King Vortigern had brought down upon the Mages of England.

It took them weeks before they reached Camelot. The moon was almost full as they approached the ancient city. It sat up on a hill, it's battlements looking more than a little imposing. A wide river snaked around the lower town, providing a natural moat as well as a small port to serve the town within the castle walls. Rising above the walls was a half constructed mage tower. Vortigern had been obsessed with its construction, nearly bankrupting his own country in his quest for power.

While the Apprentice was distracted by the tower, Merlin led them straight down to the docks. Instead of going out on a dock however, he moved to the shore line. His traveling boots sucked into the mud at the edges as he stood, staring down into the bay thoughtfully. He knelt beside the water, reached down, and touched his fingers to the dark water.

The Apprentice shivered as she felt the crushing power of Merlin rise around them. Gooseflesh erupted on her bareskin. She had been with Merlin since she was a little girl, but it was still impressive to see his casual display of power. It always made her feel a little inferior. No matter how hard she tried and how much she studied she would never be as powerful as him.

There was a crushing rumble, like thunder and the water rushed out of the bay like someone had pulled the plug of a basin. All the boats dropped and were left hanging from the docks like abandoned marionettes.

"Where did it all go?" she asked after a moment.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder at her. His eyes alight with power. He arched his brow. They had been together long enough to know it was meant as encouragement to prompt her into considering the answer herself.

The Apprentice blew out a frustrated puff of breath into the chilly night air and pushed her hair back from her face. She tried to think about how she would perform the magic. You couldn't just get rid of it. Magic couldn't ever be created or destroyed, only channeled, summoned, or transformed.

"Water to fire," she said after a few long moments of consideration. Fire magic could be volatile but was the easiest to syphon power into; it was greedy, it consumed.

"Steam?" Merlin asked with a rueful chuckle and a hint of mockery. "Imagine the stink. All those boiled fish? You would smell Camelot for twenty leagues off."

She sighed, feeling he needn't have laughed at her. "The sea then," she finally said. "Keep it simple, water to water. Send it out with the tide."

Merlin tilted his head to her in acknowledgement of the correct answer. She still didn't like it. Water rarely listened, it was too fluid. It served as a reminder that not only was Merlin powerful, he was also a master spell crafter to work with such a fickle element.

"Are you going to tell me why we came all this way for you to empty the bay?" she asked a little sharply. She didn't like the feeling that her Master was mocking her.

Merlin waited until the water settled before he gestured to the deep gut of land left behind where the thriving port of Camelot once stood.

The Mage moved over to the edge, staring down into what had once been the bay. The bottom was all mud and rocks that had fallen from the quarry above. Standing apart from the other rocks, only a little ways from where the shore had once been, was an odd shaped stone. In the light of the moon she caught the glimmer of steel and silver. A shiver went down her back as she felt the first brush of it's magic.

She turned to look at Merlin in shock. "Is that what I think it is?" She demanded more than asked.

Merlin smirked back at her and arched his brows.

"But..." she started to say, her thoughts racing. Her eyes flew to the half completed tower stretching tall above them, and then back to the sword. "With Excalibur we could..." she dragged off again, her mind racing to put together all the pieces on the board. "Who would command it?" She asked sharply, turning to face Merlin full on. She knew the legend of Excalibur as well as anyone, the Lady of the Lake had bound it to the Pendragon bloodline long ago.

Merlin shrugged. "Only Uther's heir can command the magic of the sword. To all others it is nothing more than a pointy bit of steel."

"But the Prince is dead."

Merlin chuckled again in that maddening way of his. "Is he?" He asked playfully, wiping his hands on his cloak to dry them.

"The King, the Queen and the Prince all disappeared the night Camelot burned. If he is not dead, then where?" She demanded.

"Hidden my dear, just like the sword...until the time was right."

"Hidden by who?" She asked.

Merlin shrugged, looking almost gleeful about being clueless for once. "Sometimes fate steps in and lends time a hand," he said cryptically.

"And...the time is...now?" She asked hesitantly, looking around them.

Merlin sighed and a strange, almost sad look crossed his face. "I'm afraid we can't afford to wait for him to be ready any longer."

The Apprentice looked back down at the sword, even from this distance she could feel it's pulse of power. "You knew where it was?" she asked, unable to hide the shock from her normally stoic tone.

Merlin arched an imperious, bushy eyebrow at his student. "Of course I knew where it was. I've always known. You think a little puddle of water would be enough to hide Excalibur from me?" he asked rhetorically.

The Apprentice stared down into the pit of mud. "What now? Are we going down there?" she asked.

Merlin snorted as though it were the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "To what end?" he asked. "Are you going to pull it from stone?" he lifted his hood back up and turned to their horses. "Now, we wait. The time is coming," he said, his voice dropping to a more guttural tone that she recognized as one he used when his gift of foresight was upon him. "He comes soon."

"So the prophecy is true then? Excalibur will free the mages?" The Apprentice asked. Her chin had a defiant set, one that told her master she would not allow him to dodge this question.

Merlin shrugged a shoulder. "As true as any of them," he said and he swung up onto his horse.

She couldn't help feeling like Merlin was being more vague than usual. Not that her Master had ever been one to give straight answers.

Merlin swung his horse back to face her. His eyes serious. "Who's to say that prophecy hasn't already been fulfilled? Uther used Excalibur to slay Mordred. Perhaps that's all the freeing the mages will get from the blade."

"I say," she replied and a cold wind suddenly picked up, tossing her hair and cloak around her.

Merlin cocked his head to the side. His Apprentice hadn't called power, but power had come to her in this time and place. She had always been a talented little thing, she worked hard, but never had she displayed this kind of casual natural ability before.

"Is that so?" He asked, and his tone was more respectful than before. He glanced around at the hills surrounding them. The wheels of fate were turning and power was thrumming through this valley. It had chosen his Apprentice. Interesting. He might have to change a few of his plans.

"This isn't what freedom looks like," she finally settled on saying and then she seemed to deflate and the power charged air dropped and she was just a girl once more.

Merlin made a noise of agreement in his throat and turned away, giving her time to compose herself.

The Apprentice's shoulders sagged and she suddenly felt very tired, although she didn't know why. She chewed on the inside of her lip thoughtfully. All the time they had traveled through the Frankish empire and the land of the Saxons, she had heard rumors that the Born King of England might return. She had always choked it up to the wishful thinking of those oppressed until Vortigern's rule. All that time Merlin had known the truth and not spoken a word of it. He often kept his own council, but for some reason she felt strangely defensive about this, as though she had some kind of ownership over it. It made no sense.

"If the rumors about the Born King being alive are true, will he come?" she asked, climbing onto her own horse. She was finding it difficult to look away from the gleaming blade. It's magic was practically humming in the air around them. She could taste it on the back of her throat. There was something about it and this place that made her not want to leave.

Merlin's gaze caught on the sword. "It will call to him," he assured her.

She tore her gaze from the sword and arched a brow. "But you don't know where he is?" she pressed. There was much Merlin knew, but the old man was less likely to admit to not knowing than he was to tell her about every one of his visions.

Merlin flashed her a cheery smile, shaking off the magic that had been riding him. "We will soon enough," he promised her. "For now, we ride north."

~<>~

Months went by. Life with Merlin returned to its usual rhythms. They traveled north of the wall to lend aid to the few that remained of their people among the Picts, far from the reach of Vortigern's men. They stopped in a village and the grandmother of a small boy greeted them. The Apprentice could feel she wasn't a Mage herself, but a low hum of power fluttered around the boy. He was maybe ten or eleven. He wasn't overly powerful, but we'll past the age he should have begun his training.

The old woman explained that the boys parents had been murdered in the Mage purges and she had hidden her grandson. She didn't know anything about magic, but she did know that her grandson needed training to learn to control his budding power.

The Apprentice waited for Merlin to tell the old woman he was sorry he couldn't help her, and provide her with directions to another mage who could take on an Apprentice as he already had one of his own. She had to fight to keep the shock off her face when Merlin said he would take on the young boy as his personal Apprentice.

The old woman burst into tears on the spot. Her relief was palpable. Having an untrained mage was dangerous. He would draw attention to himself or possibly hurt himself or others. It wasn't that the Apprentice didn't want to help the boy, but Mages didn't take on more than one Apprentice at a time. It just wasn't done.

Later that night she and Merlin sat around the fire together in silence. It was Merlin's night to make the evening meal and he stirred the pot, letting the silence hang between them. He could practically feel his Apprentice stewing. She had been more brooding than usual since they met the young boy who needed training.

"You wonder why I agreed to take the boy," Merlin said.

"I would never question you, nor challenge your decision, it's not my place," she said respectfully.

Merlin barked out a laugh. "You question and challenge more than any apprentice I have ever had in a millenium." Merlin chuckled again and shook his head. "Almost as much as he will...You'll deserve each other."

"The new apprentice and I?" she asked with a frown of confusion. After all this time together she was used to cryptic, half conversations with Merlin. With his gift of foresight he often forgot what he had and had not spoken of. She was not patient in her nature, but she had learned to wait for the old man to explain himself.

Merlin snorted as though that were the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "No, Arthur."

"Arthur?" she said the name slowly. Pronouncing it with a t sound instead of the traditional th.

"Ar-th-ur," Merlin corrected. As Mages they both knew the power in names. Her thick Frankish accent made it difficult for her to say his name but she tried a second time.

"Arthur," she said again.

Merlin nodded in approval but she still looked confused. "The Born King," Merlin clarified.

She froze, convinced she heard him wrong. "But-" she started to say.

"You will go. You will be his guide," Merlin said as though that would be the end of it.

She gaped at her master. "Me?" she asked in confusion. "But I'm still an apprentice."

"You can't be an apprentice," Merlin said. He gestured back towards the old woman's hut. "I already have an apprentice."

She stared at Merlin. He was the most powerful mage in existence, but he could be more maddening than any man she had ever met.

"I'm not a Sorceress," she argued.

"Not yet," Merlin agreed. "But once you finish this task you will be."

"And if I fail?" she challenged. "This isn't something we can risk."

Merlin made a noise of disbelief in the back of his throat. "I have never known you to fail at anything you have set your mind to," he said honestly. His compliment made her feel uncomfortable but he ignored that and continued. "It will not matter that you are not a sorceress yet. You will not fail. All our fates depend on it..." he dragged off and his eyes got that far away look.

She was too worked up to notice that he was seeing a vision in his minds eye. "He needs someone else, someone with more experience, someone more powerful. Why won't you be his guide?"

Merlin tipped his head, so his wild grey hair fell out of the way so he could look his Apprentice in the eyes as he spoke. He needed her to trust him in this. He knew what he felt when they were at Camelot and since deciding this path, it was like a lock clicking into place. Fate set on the right path.

"I know what will come to pass, girl. I have seen it," Merlin reminded her. "Perhaps if he was still a boy, raised in court in need of a father figure...but he is fully grown now, a man, and has lived a life where a father figure will not be appreciated. But you...you he will grow to trust. You will guide him."

She continued to stare at the wizened old Mage in disbelief. They both knew what was at stake. If Vortigern's power wasn't checked he would soon surpass even the power of Mordred and then even Merlin wouldn't be able to stop him. They only had this one chance. They couldn't risk being wrong about this, not when she wasn't even a full Sorceress yet.

"But-" she started to argue again.

"This is our only chance girl," he reminded her unnecessarily. "You've been itching for a chance to prove yourself, this is it. I am assigning you your final task as my Apprentice."

She looked away, back into the fire. She had wanted to prove her competency to her master after all this time. To prove to him she had been worthy of his time and investment in her training. And it was an honor to know that Merlin would trust her with something so important, but this all felt too big for her. Merlin was already a legend. She was nobody. But she recognized the gleam of determination in Merlin's eyes. He wouldn't be swayed, and she didn't want to disappoint him.

"How will I find you when it's done?" she asked nervously. There was no telling how long this task could take and the way Merlin moved he could be halfway to the east empire by then. It was a scary prospect, going out in the world alone. Even scarier knowing what was waiting for her.

Merlin smiled knowingly at her. "Not to worry, I'll find you," he promised her.

Merlin tipped his head to the side and his eyes fluttered for a moment, then snapped open. "You'd better get going," he said, without waiting for her to respond. He reached into his bag and pulled out a thin strip of cloth. "I have reached out to Sir Bedivere, he will help you," he told her and he put the cloth in her hand. "Use this to find him."

She looked down at the worn cloth in her hand. "You've been carrying around this strip of cloth from Sir Bedivere all this time?" she asked in disbelief.

Merlin turned to look at her, that strange alien look in his eyes he got sometimes was answer enough. He had foreseen it's need two decades before and kept it with him. The gift of foresight made him often seem more than human. "Trust yourself, trust your instincts. Hurry along girl. Arthur will be waiting for you."

~<>~

I hope you all are enjoying the book so far!