chapter thirty-eight!
038. daylight

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

    WARNING BELLS echoed, loud and deafening, through the streets of Camelot. The peasants in the Lower Town were shocked away from their every day errands, scrambling to the side in desperation to escape the man frantically forcing his way through. He seemed to glare and glint under the summer sun▬harsh and sharp, filled with a determined fury as he did his best to try and outrun the guards that were on his tail. 

    Sir Sulien Cadwallader of the Camelot Knights was unrecognisable without his scarlet red cloak. He had ripped the golden dragon from his shoulders far earlier to lighten his load. He has grown far from the young, fifteen-year-old greenly that his only goal in life was to prove himself ready for war. Just two years senior since then, he has seen enough war▬and now, he was running head first into another not even minutes old. This time, however, he was going to be on the other side. 

    "CATCH HIM!" he heard the guards shout behind him. He didn't risk glancing over his shoulder to see how close they were. Instead, Sir Sulien cried out for people to move out of the way before he'd barrel right through them. "THERE! DON'T LET HIM GET AWAY!"

    The young knight▬in sheer desperation▬reached out for the wooden post of the nearest market stall. He tugged it forward and the owner bellowed furious curses, no matter how much Sulien shouted apologies before continuing on. He did not wait to see how many guards were tripping over escaped cabbages. 

    His day did not start like this. In fact, he did not expect this day to take the drastic turn it did. He thought as he opened his eyes to the fresh daylight, that he▬and the rest of the kingdom▬would be celebrating the birth of a prince or princess. An heir that for so long, they thought would never come from the womb of a barren queen. Instead, celebrations for Prince Arthur's birth were overshadowed by the horrific grief over the loss of his mother, Queen Ygraine Pendragon. Sir Sulien hadn't been called to council or asked to be at the King's side. Instead, Lord Vecentia under the King's order had called them to a meeting of war▬war against magic. 

    He had been shocked to silence▬much like many others. At first, they did not believe it. The King had sorcery in his court. The High Priestess Nimueh was a close advisor. They, themselves, had friends they knew to practice magic▬had family who were gifted so. Then Sulien watched in horror as Sir Lear, a knight with known ties to the Druids, was arrested right before his eyes▬and then executed when he struggled. He had been given no trial, no chance to speak his innocence▬no chance to ask why. 

    The King had suddenly declared war against all magic users across the entire Kingdom▬and then what followed had been chaos. 

    Sir Sulien, and his other knights, had been ordered to search the entire city and round up every known magic user for trial and execution under treason to the crown. Their friends, their family, innocent children, mothers, fathers, brothers ... each other. When he demanded to know why▬for them all to have an audience with the King, the Lord Vecentia accused him of hiding a pagan wife. Sulien naturally called him a wife-beater and now, here he was, charged with treason like the rest of them. 

    But he refused to let them seize him. Because while Sir Sulien didn't have a pagan wife, the Lord Vecentia wasn't wrong to assume he had someone to protect. He knew that the search for magic users within the castle walls would not stop at that. They would extend out to the Druid villagers within the forest▬peaceful, innocent people who had no idea what was about to come. One of them, was a young lady who Sir Sulien was determined to protect above anybody else: Irvetta. He had to reach Irvetta before it was too late. 

    "STOP THAT MAN!" the shouts continued. Sir Sulien gasped and took a sharp turn deep into the slums. His feet pounded against wooden planks over pooled water from last night's rain. His tunic and chainmail was weighing him down, but he refused to give up, pushing his legs to run faster and faster and faster▬ "STOP HIM!" 

    But he knew he couldn't outrun the Camelot guard on foot. Even if he reached the gates, the walls, the doors▬any exit, there would be more waiting for him. He was trapped within this fortress. He needed to find another way to outrun them all. 

    When he was sure he had lost all hope of figuring out a plan▬with guards closing on him at every corner and every street, Sir Sulien of the Camelot Knights spotted it. There, tethered outside the Rising Sun Tavern, threw the head of a chestnut gelding. 

    He was hesitant. He glanced back, finally. His heart jolted with a strange sense of fear to see the guard after him▬so close now. Men he has worked with, laughed with and drank with; his comrades, his life▬his home had turned on him in just under an hour. And now, he had no choice but to flee it. 

    Sir Sulien glanced upwards at the rising daylight, and he knew this day brought change to a whole new era of life. One that he didn't belong in. 

    He took a deep breath and rushed forwards. He reached the gelding and it huffed, startled at his sudden appearance. "Hey, buddy▬" he said, trying to calm the horse down as he rushed to untie his tether. "Do not fret▬it is all right, I am not here to hurt you." 

    The young knight undid the tether ties and threw them over the horses neck. He was running out of time. He quickly put his hand on the horse's snout and surprisingly, it did not balk. "You and I," he promised it, "will be the closest of friends."

    And with that said, Sir Sulien hoisted himself up onto the gelding's saddle. The shouts increased. The men noticed what he had done and started to run faster. The young knight gritted his teeth and urged the horse to turn down the street. With a cry, he set the gelding off at a gallop through the busy roads of Camelot. He heard the owners furious yells behind him as he stumbled out of the tavern, drunk and cursing. Sulien didn't give him any mind. He leaned forward and pressed the horse onwards, faster and faster▬as fast as he dared. The people of Camelot leapt away from him▬spreading apart he was a fast current in a river of water, forcing his way through. 

    The gelding reared when Sulien took them at a sharp turn. "Sorry!" he apologised to the horse as he fixed their pathway down a narrow stretch between two tailor homes. It was a narrow fit▬almost too narrow. Dangerously narrow, but if he got there quick enough▬

    He pulled the reins back, hard and the horse skidded along the dirt track right beside the city wall gates. Sir Sulien turned the gelding on his hooves, urging the animal to start at a gallop once again. There were men above. They aimed their crossbows. There were men behind with spears and swords, racing to him on foot. There were men right in front, trying to block him but he just plundered through▬racing against time as the gates slowly began to close. 

    "STOP HIM!" came their shouts one final time.

    "Come on, come on, come on▬!" Sir Sulien ducked himself almost flat against the saddle. He closed his eyes, fearing the worse as the horse didn't stop▬couldn't stop now at such momentum. He felt something graze the tip of his hair▬a horrible sound like he was galloping through a tunnel of twisting, lurching wind. 

    But he was still going. 

    He glanced up, his heart pounding and glanced back. He watched the guards furiously tug at the closed, iron gates▬they argued with each other. But there was nothing they could do but wait as Sir Sulien Cadwallader of the Camelot Knights managed to make his great escape. 

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

   OVER TWENTY-TWO years later, the city of Camelot found itself blanketed in the low, dark clouds of twilight. It has been over two decades since the great escape of Sir Sulien Cadwallader, but only just eighteen since the eyes of a gentle soul first took in the sight of this world. Now, it was nearing eighteen and five months (not that this young lady was counting), and within the fortress city walls all the way through the town and into the towering citadel, there she slept inside a castle so beautiful, it turned golden in the morning sunrise▬and then dusty pink once it set. There were many wonderful rooms inside this castle. Vast, spacious chambers with silk curtain drapes and luxurious soft pillows on brilliant-stitched bed sheets. Wonderful hallways with gorgeous oil paintings, rich tapestries and intricate vases. Golden tea sets and gifts as if Midas had walked the corridors himself with his special touch. But while one might believe such a gentle soul belonged in the most beautiful room of all where her sweet smile would rest on a soft, feathered mattress, instead, she tossed and turned in the bleakest room of all. 

    Down, down, down and down further, hidden away in a room barely big enough to be a closet, was one of the many servants' rooms. Inside the shadowed crevice, sat a single, wooden bed and bench with a candle that had been long snuffed out. On the bed, there, curled up underneath a blanket littered with moth holes (though, not that they needed it, they were so close to the kitchen and underneath so many floors above, the rooms were always much warmer▬a blessing until winter, where the temperature always seemed to take a devilish turn)), was this gentle-hearted young lady. 

    A servant with little to nothing to her name: Odette Mason. But despite being so small, and insignificant in comparison to this mighty castle around her, the stone foundations and turrets dearly loved her all the same. They kept her safe as much as they kept her warm▬offering her the comfort of four walls like arms as she slept until the sunrise would coax her awake as soon as it struck dawn. 

    However, tonight, she was forced awake far earlier than dawn. Odette groaned as she heard them. Again and again and again▬right beneath the stone floors of the chamber and down into the depths below the castle. Clang. Thud. Clang. Thud. The pounding, and pounding, and pounding of pickaxes against stone. They had not ceased all night, leaving Odette (and many others) frustrated with exhaustion as they lied in bed, unable to sleep. 

    The King had taken the past week and a half minding within the vaults below the kingdom, hoping to find new, unseen treasure▬as if the Pendragon name and Camelot weren't already one of the richest names and kingdoms in this land. 

    Odette groaned again, feeling their pounding work as a headache in her temples as she slammed her forehead against her pillow. 

    Clang. Thud. Clang. Thud.

    Realising that once again, she will spend a night without any sleep, the young handmaiden flung off her covers and stepped out of her bed. She grasped for her itchy, woollen shawl and wrapped it tight around her shoulders. Odette searched her small chest that was broken at its hinges for some warm socks. She pulled them on and searched blindly in the dark for her shoes. She forced her toes into her dusty and dirty slippers before grabbing the plate of her candle. 

    Odette took a deep breath▬it turned into a yawn▬and then stepped out of the servants' chamber. Here, she knew the hallways very well, and did not need a flame to light her way towards the kitchens. Once she stepped inside, she realised that she could even feel the tremor of the mines underfoot. It was almost as if they were hacking away at her ears rather than stone. 

    Finding a still warm splinter from the kitchen oven fire, Odette took it and patiently lit the tip of her candle. Once she did, she blew the flame on the splinter out and stamped on it before placing it back into the still dying embers. 

    Forcing a little smile on her face, Odette Mason tried to think of something positive▬quite like how she enjoyed the sudden warmth on a strangely cold, summer night the candlelight gave her. She held up her fingertips towards it as she left the kitchen, breathing a chuckle as she watched it dance when she inched towards as if to touch it. She played a little game with herself, pulling her fingers back last minute before they'd be burnt. 

    She left the bottom hallways where the rest of the servants were trying their very best to get even a wink of sleep and hurried her way up the stairwells. Still in her night dress, the young handmaiden walked these hallways without a single worry of who would see her. She loved the sunrise and the daylight, but the moon gave her a breath of freedom within these corridors▬allowed her to explore them freely as if she was still that young child. 

    Odette searched these hallways for one individual in particular. She presumed that because she was not getting any sleep, her dearest friend would not be either. He would be resting in the antechamber of his master's room, tonight▬and she supposed that if neither of them were allowed to rest, then they shall spend the night doing something fun, like hunting frogs or flowers that bloomed at night. Or at least to have someone keep Odette company until the morning. 

    She hurried up quite a few more flights of stairs until she arrived at the wing of the castle where the Prince of Camelot slept. Though, if she could help it, she was prepared to avoid his chamber as much as possible. 

    Things were ... complicated (she supposed was the right word) between them. Things were always very complicated between a servant and a prince, though the relationship they have seemed to have stumbled into was far from what any maid such as herself should have ever endeavoured. Eight months have passed since Arthur nearly died▬eight months since they overstepped a barrier that should have never been broken. And that barrier has not been overstepped since. Rather, it seemed to have been reinforced with much stronger stones and guarded by much more discipline. 

    They had kissed. And not only was that improper, it was dangerous. A servant does not kiss a prince, and a prince most certainly does not kiss the second handmaiden of his father's ward. 

     Odette believed that avoiding Arthur would do them both good▬and she supposed he thought the same, as he seemed to be putting just as much effort a she. Though, rather, for Odette, it didn't seem to be working as much as she hoped it would. Instead, all it seemed to do was the exact opposite. For the more she stayed away, the more she yearned to return. The more she looked across the room, the more she ended up straying back to his gaze▬and he, hers. They played this game still▬treading back and forth for eight months without having spoken even a breath of what happened since, but despite how much they were desperate to forget it ... they could not stop thinking of each other.

    At least, Odette could not stop thinking of Arthur. 

    And it was more painful than it ever used to be. 

    So, she hoped her journey in the very early morning would not lead her into Arthur's path, but enough to drag Merlin away from it. 

    And just by her luck, as she rounded the corner, her dearest friend was grumbling as he stepped outside into the hallway. He closed the Prince's chamber door behind him. Odette lit up.

    "Merlin!" she whisper-shouted across the stone tiles. "Merlin, Merlin, Merlin▬!" she hurried across, making her way towards the tall and thin manservant in a loose fitting blue tunic and pants. His boots were untied and he had just thrown his moth-eaten leather jacket over his shoulders, clearly having not found sleep, either. Merlin was quite unlike any other servant Odette has had the pleasure to befriend. Since the moment he arrived in Camelot just over a year ago, she has known a very unique secret: Merlin had magic. And not just any magic. While he may look underfed and stumbled over his own boots more often than not, Merlin Wyllt was one of▬if not destined to be▬the most powerful sorcerers in the Five Kingdoms. 

    But most importantly, he was like family to her. 

    "Merlin!" whispered Odette again, skidding to a stop beside him in the open corridor. Her hair fell down her shoulders and back in golden waves. 

    Prince Arthur's manservant peered a suspicious eye at her. "What are you doing here?" he instead asked her rather than returning her smile with a greeting of his own. He then frowned at her attire. "Are you still in your night dress?"

    "I could not sleep," Odette answered simply, holding her candle between them. 

    Merlin continued to frown. "You could not sleep," he echoed, "... And so you crossed half of the castle to come here as a result?"

    Odette pursed her lips. She shuffled her feet, a little sheepish at his accusation▬and how to answer it. "I▬well▬" she hung on her words, still pursing her lips in a very ridiculous way, "▬I could not sleep and you▬"

    "Ah," said Merlin in understanding. "So, in realising that you cannot sleep, you have decided to make your way over here in order to annoy me."

    "Not annoy you."

    He pointed a finger underneath her nose. She stared at it. "Drop the innocent act, Odette."

    She scowled at it jokingly, and then admitted. "Fine. I have come to annoy you."

    Merlin sighed. He threw out his hands in a wild gesture, as if finally proving to the empty corridor that he was right about Odette's not-so-innocent intentions all along. Odette quickly shoved him and they both shared light chuckles in the dark hour before the dawn. 

    Then, as he turned to head down the corridor, Odette shuffled quickly along to keep up with a question on the tip of her tongue. "What is it you are doing?"

    "I am going to throw myself off the tallest tower."

    "Why?"

    "Because Arthur is making me head down into the mines to tell the workers to stop."

    Odette winced loudly. "Enjoy the fall."

    "Thanks," her friend told her, dead-panned. "You are coming with me, though."

    "I am actually too busy to throw myself off a tower today."

    "How convenient."

    "I can be bribed with strawberries, though."

    Merlin moodily blew out her candle at this and she gasped, surprised and annoyed. She could still see quite well even in the darkness▬enough to scowl at Merlin's smug grin at his little trick. 

    He took a large, overdramatic stride forward. "Come with, Odette▬!" he put on his best Arthur voice before switching back into his own. "Let us venture into the depths of the dark mines and I will get you strawberries afterwards."

    "You are ridiculous," she decided to remind him as she jogged slightly to catch up. 

    He took another glance at her night tunic. Then, he rolled his eyes. He swivelled on his heel. "But first, I am giving you one of my tunics so you are at least somewhat decent."

    "I am decent!" she argued, but followed anyway. "Does that mean I can borrow a scarf?"

    "No."

    After Merlin let Odette wear one of his red tunics over her white night dress▬it was big enough on her that it wore like a nice over-tunic (she might keep it, actually, if she could get away with it)▬she followed him in his journey down many flights of stairs and even further towards the deep vaults beneath the castle. 

    Odette rolled up the sleeves of the tunic, growing more frustrated at the pounding headache the miners were causing. She wondered whether they were even allowed a moment of sleep▬though, she would not be surprised if they hadn't been. Down there, there was no difference between day and night. 

    Though, as she and Merlin started to take the steps deeper into the cavernous hallways nearby the dungeons and burial vaults, they both stopped▬they frowned when they noticed that the piercing sound of iron hacking against stone suddenly stopped. 

    They shared a quick glance. A haunting silence followed. Merlin arched a brow. Then, he shrugged. "Maybe someone else made them stop?"

    Odette tilted her head with a look that showed how much she very much doubted so. Which meant that something else had happened. With a quick breath, the two servants picked up their pace▬they rushed down the rest of the narrow, tunnelling slope that took them deeper into the underground mines. 

    Merlin lit a lonesome torch with a breathless enchantment▬and it burst alight with the same glow of his eyes in the shadows. 

    When they at last made it to the entrance levels of the mine, they were surprised to see it almost seemingly deserted. Iron carts of stone were left unattended, pickaxes were propped against the cave walls or lain, forgotten on the ground. 

    "What?" breathed Merlin, very confused at what they were seeing. They grew concerned. What could have caused an entire group of workers that wouldn't stop pounding the stone well into the night for the past week suddenly grow quiet? 

    Their question was answered soon enough. Echoes of screams and stampede of running feet were coming from the darkened pathways beyond the stone carts. Moments later, every miner working under the King's orders appeared. They gave no glimpse to the servants watching on, bewildered and shocked▬they pushed and they shoved; they were desperate to get away from whatever they had found within the dark, winding maze of shadows. So terrified that what the King would think▬the money they'd get to pay for a life and a comfortable week of food for their families; any thought had left their mind other than a sheer desperation to get away. 

    Anyone in their right mind would follow. But Odette and Merlin held something far different in mind. Sharing another quick glance and a heightened pace to their hearts, they decided to venture deeper into the mind together▬straight down the path the miners fled from.

    Soon, it was only Merlin's flame that lit the pathway ahead. Odette kept close, fearing but at the same time, almost excited to see what they might find. Perhaps she should be grateful that the past eight months have been rather boring in comparison to the adventures they shared previously. Aside from the warlord threat here and there, or some mislead magician believing they could become a martyr, there had been nothing so shocking as the beasts and power mages they went against before Merlin's victory over the High Priestess Nimueh at the Isle of the Blessed. Odette expected nothing so exciting from this short adventure, either. Perhaps the miners were scared by some rat in the darkness instead of a terrifying beast. 

    Holding their breaths, they were silent as they came across a broken crevice. Rubble had fallen around their feet. The miners had created a manhole large enough for someone to duck inside into what looked like a dark, stone chamber. Shadows loomed from the light of Merlin's torch, which told them that there was more than just something lingering inside. 

    Merlin whispered for Odette to stay close as he stepped inside first, his hand outstretched▬prepared to cast some curse or jinx to protect them from whatever awaited. Only to drop it in awe. 

    Odette quickly ducked in at his side to see what had captured his attention. She, too, was struck with amazement. 

    Hidden underneath layers of stone and rock, closed in and forgotten, was an entire room filled to the brim with riches neither had glimpsed before in their lives. There were scarlet rubies, gold encrusted plates▬jewellery with diamonds the size of their knuckles and sapphire infused vases. Odette let out a pleasant sigh, noticing earrings heavy with opals and bracelets made from pure gold. In the chamber's centre, sat a carved tomb where a man was depicted lying very still with a long beard and ancient robes. In the middle of his chest, where his heart should be, a hole was carved large enough to encase a glowing, mysterious blue gem▬larger than either of Odette's nor Merlin's fists. It seemed to thrive in the glimmer of the fire, whispering and swirling with a vibrating hum▬as if it was alive, and calling for someone who dared to take it. 

    It seemed as though they had stumbled across a rich, ancient lord's tomb▬a man who was far wealthier than any of the king's Odette knew. 

    "Oh, my God..." whispered the young handmaiden, unable to take her eyes off the sight. "I have never seen..." she couldn't even finish her sentence, stunned to silence.

    However, Merlin had noticed something else. Hesitant and careful, he surged forward with delicate steps onto the smooth stone floor. His torch hovered over another sight▬one far less glorious. There was a shadow hovering by the tomb, and as he got closer, Odette realised that shadow belonged to a person. A miner who was hunched and very, very still. There was something strange about the skin of his neck. At first, she thought it was the dark of the tomb, but when the flames grew closer, she could see that was not the case. His skin was strange▬a pale, greyish blue, as if he had turned to stone much like everything else.

    "Hey," Merlin whispered to grab his attention. He did not respond. He reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back▬he gasped and shuffled away when the miner fell backwards. He hit the ground and stared up at them with wide, blood-shot eyes; stuck in a frozen scream.

    Perhaps Odette had considered her joking wish far too soon. 

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

    RUMOURS TRAVEL fast in Camelot. Especially when the rumour was held on the mouths of terrified miners. Even though the tomb was quickly guarded and secrecy was enforced, by the next morning, almost everybody had heard some version of the tale of the luxurious tomb filled with riches beneath the citadel. Though while peasants, guards and servants could not stop talking about their differing tales, Prince Arthur may as well have forgotten anything had happened. He held little care on who the tomb belonged to or the riches inside it. There were many burial vaults and forgotten tombs from ancient kings and lords within this castle▬and as always, his father grew richer, and Arthur was entrusted to organise another set of guards to protect it. 

    His closest and oldest friend, the Lord Ronyn Vecentia, learnt this very quickly the next morning. With great weather, came ambitious hunting parties▬and today was no different. Ronyn knew his dear friend so well that when he caught even a glimpse of fair weather, he cleared his morning schedule and may as well held premonition of the invitation the Prince sent to his manor for him to join his campaign. 

    The cold night didn't mean a cold summer morning. In fact, Ronyn was sweltering in his leather hunting vest. He tugged at it, rather uncomfortable and huffing in very similar fashion to his gelding he was trying to prepare beside him. 

    Arthur noticed. He sent his friend a very judging glance over his saddle. He quickly brushed a tender touch down his mare's neck. "You and your gelding may be long lost brothers, Ronyn." 

    Ronyn mimicked him very childishly. Arthur breathed an amused chuckle, moving over to tighten the reins. "Are you calling my mother a horse?"

    "No, your mother is lovely. I am calling you a horse."

    Arthur noticed a group of eyes hovering in passing on the other side of the citadel courtyard. He tried to force a polite smile on his face, though it turned into more of a grimace as he acknowledged the Lady Vandermoor and her young daughter she must have dragged out in parade. Her daughter was lovely, in her own way, though the last thing she seemed to be wanting to do was be paraded around by her mother▬or at least be brought to attention when all she seemed to be trying to do was sort through her market goods. 

    Ronyn lifted a knowing brow at the Prince who scowled. "What?"

    "Nothing," the Lord Vecentia quickly replied, offering his own charming smile to the Lady Vandermoor's daughter. He brushed his dark hair away from his eyes and Arthur rolled his eyes. "Just▬I have heard she has a large dowry and gentile temper."

    Understanding what game he was playing, the Prince angrily dusted off his saddle. Ronyn grinned and continued, leaning crossed-arms over Arthur's saddle to catch his growing scowl. "She's quite pretty. Red is her colour▬"

    "Have you found a wife yet?" Arthur shot back, pointed and stern. "I presume so if you seem to have such an interest in finding one for me."

    Ronyn snickered and stepped away, not taking any offence to his friend's temper. "No, and it upsets my mother."

    "Well," Arthur's tone lifted sarcastically. "I have heard the Lady Vandermoor's daughter has a very gentile temper. Maybe that means you will not be able to bother her like you do me?"

    His companion was not backing down as of yet. "If you do end up getting married, does that mean you will stop being such a mood-killer?"

    Arthur shot him a childish, sarcastic smile. "No."

    "Will you tell me anything about that tomb found last night?"

    Ronyn's attempt to steer the conversation was pushed down just as quickly when Arthur repeated his answer in a very similar manner: "No."

    For such a man who looks as though he was made of a summer sun with bright golden hair and light-blue eyes, Prince Arthur had the personality of an irritable, exasperated brick wall when he wished. Until one saw the suppressed, stifled smile he made to his chest at the frustrated, dead-panned look Ronyn made in reply. (And when Ronyn remembered in much detail the night Arthur tripped over his own boots out of his chair, drunk at his recent twenty-second name day). 

    Considering the conversation over, Arthur spun around on his feet searching for his manservant who seemed to be nowhere in sight. Letting out a long, exasperated sigh, he grumbled: "Where is that▬? Merlin!" he shouted loudly into the courtyard. Ronyn winced. He massaged his ears. "Merlin!"

    Out of the main entrance to the castle, Merlin came stumbling down the stairs with a bag slung over his shoulder and a beating stick clutched in his arms. Arthur clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes, not at all shocked. "Hurry up, Merlin!"

    "Sorry!"

    Ronyn breathed a chuckle under his breath. He chose not to say a word, some part of him enjoying receiving the frustrated look Merlin sent the moment he was told to get down on his hands and knees in front of the Prince's mare. Arthur could get onto his saddle by himself▬they all knew this very well, but it was his past time to try and annoy Merlin as much as possible. Others called it▬well, they didn't know what to call it. Ronyn, instead, called it Arthur not being able to admit he thought of Merlin as a little brother and treated him as such▬determined to get a rise out of him for no other other purpose than to do exactly that. 

    Merlin held his breath, stubborn enough to not make any noise or strain as Arthur stepped up onto his back. He swung one leg over his horse's saddle and▬

    Fell off right down the other side.

    Ronyn lost it. As others stopped in their path, turning around with incredulous stares to see their Prince fall right off his saddle▬and watch his horse canter away in surprise▬the Lord Vecentia doubled over in hysterics. 

    Arthur went bright red in the face. "MERLIN▬!" 

    His manservant scrambled to his feet, staring very dumfounded after the runaway horse. Arthur made a few angry gestures up to where Ronyn laughed. "I▬I do not understand▬"

    "▬Well, there is a surprise!" The Prince angrily stood back up. 

    "I▬I did that girth myself!"

    "I think that might have been the problem!" 

    Merlin gaped. He guffawed a short, frustrated silence. "I ... it was not my fault!"

    They glanced over when another voice joined them. "Do you want me to fit your girth properly for you, Sire?"

    Ronyn made a face, bewildered by the new face. A commoner▬perhaps a fresh face in Camelot▬made his way over. In his hands, he returned Arthur's mare with a gentle touch. He rubbed her neck in order to help calm her down as she threw her head. Merlin didn't look too impressed, eyeing the newcomer up and down▬he narrowed his stare at his thin stature, messy brown hair and gaunt face. Ronyn thought this man looked more weasel than human. 

    Arthur sighed. He fixed his vest and rolled back his shoulders, trying to rid the uncomfortable pain he had from his fall. "Thank you," he said breathlessly. 

    The stranger bowed his head. "It is an honour to be of service to the Prince."

    Arthur's brows shot up. He turned to Merlin. "My▬an honour. Do you hear that, Merlin?" his manservant scowled. 

    Suddenly, the stranger brandished a brush from his leather sleeves and started to dust down the Prince's vest. Both Merlin and Ronyn caught estranged glances that Arthur did not see. "Allow me the honour of brushing your clothes down, My Lord."

    Pleasantly surprised, Prince Arthur grinned to himself. He did not miss this chance to rub it in Merlin's face, mouthing: The honour and watching, smug, as his servant huffed an angry breath. 

    Finished, the newcomer clasped his hands behind his back. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Sire?"

    Arthur thought on his question. "Well!" he exclaimed after a short silence. "I suppose you can give Merlin▬" he gestured back at his servant, "▬here a kick up the backside." He didn't match their chuckles.

    The stranger shook his head, modest▬though there was this glint in his eye that looked as though he enjoyed the insults Merlin shouldered. "No, I would not wish to deprive you of the pleasure, sir."

    Arthur let out a short burst of surprised laughter. He gestured to Ronyn and then pointed at his new acquaintance, as if to say, do you hear him? "What is your name?"

   "Cedric. I have come to Camelot in search of work."

    The Prince nodded. "Good. You can be a beater on the hunt. We are short of a man or two." He wandered back towards his mare, double checking that she was all right. 

    As he did, Cedric puffed out his chest and replied: "You are too kind, Sire!"

    Merlin scowled at him. Angry, he picked up his own bat of wood and marched his way to Cedric. "Here," he grumbled, "you will need a beater▬" he slammed it hard into his stomach and stormed away. At the way he doubled over, Merlin gasped: "Oh!" with no sympathy. "Sorry..."

    Above the citadel courtyard and through the ajar door into the beautiful chambers of a woman just as beautiful, the sharp-toned Lady Morgana Le Fay scoffed loudly to those keeping her company. She looked away from her window, closing it with a swift click of the iron clasp. The likes of the King's Ward's beauty was unmatched to any other in the kingdom. She held a winter's charm▬stunning with a snow complexion and silk, black waves. Her eyes were as sharp as her opinion and her lips painted the colour of a rich, red wine. She was a tall woman, strong shouldered and intelligent▬and she never feared the consequence of what she might speak. Now, what she spoke was common in her daily routine▬taking one look at Arthur Pendragon and finding herself filled with annoyance.

    "Must he always act so?" she announced as she returned to her friends. "I cannot handle another day of it▬it is like listening to a mule bray, you wish for nothing more but to shut them up."

    "The offspring of a donkey and a horse," mused the Lady Adelynn Vecentia, reaching forward to snatch a blueberry from Morgana's morning fruit platter. "I have never heard a more accurate description of my brother. But I assume you mean the Prince?"

    Ronyn Vecentia's younger sister was bright and youthful in her years. She was growing very easily into her unique beauty▬matching her mother's pointed and stern stare that made her sometimes look more mature than she actually was. But her olive skin, it always softened with the warmth of a gentle fire▬as if she absorbed every ember and kept it within her to show each time she smiled. She had been dressed in a purple drape over a simple white tunic today, but her dark brown hair was braided off her face with little jewelled pins that kept it in place. 

    Now that she has reached fifteen, the youngest Vecentia found the door to her chambers opening up to morning teas, walkabouts and trips to the markets and tournaments. Her brother agreed to more invitations and had her maid Claudia chaperone Adelynn to more day-to-day casual events. (Most▬if not nearly all▬of those invitations, which, were of the Lady Morgana's hand). But she did not come to these morning teas just for the King's Ward. Her two handmaidens: Odette and Guinevere, were of great importance to Adelynn. If she were to name any friends, they would be one of the first she included in her very short list. 

    Guinevere Smith hid her chuckles at Adelynn's comment▬laughing quietly to herself as she organised a few small flowers into Odette's hair while the younger of the two handmaidens tried very hard to finish Morgana's needlework (that she regrettably said she'd make to favour a group of young ladies inside the court who often got together to complete different intricate artworks). Gwen was once the humble daughter of a loving blacksmith, but now, while she would always be the blacksmith's daughter, she was also an orphan. But since her father's death, Guinevere has started to gather her life back together very well. These days, she smiled again and she joked, looking gorgeous in tunics she sewed herself in her growing seamstress business that earned her enough coin to keep living in her father's home. When making her own clothes, Gwen was able to accompany to the latest trends, and her bell sleeves were the envy of most maids▬which only managed to boost the demand for her talented supply. Her father once told her that she was pretty, and that she deserved to be pretty▬and with her dark skin and sweet dark curls, whenever Guinevere decided to wear lavender, like she did today, she truly was a gorgeous sight.

    Rather to herself, the gorgeous, humble Guinevere mumbled: "He is a mule, but an endearing one, I suppose..." she thought of Ronyn when he stumbled over his words and made silly jokes, and this hatred she once had simmered into a light-hearted feeling in her heart. 

    While Odette and Arthur tried to do everything they could to avoid and ignore all that happened, Guinevere and Ronyn very much failed quite miserably at it. They learnt very quickly that no matter what they tried, the people they were before all that happened could not resurface. Whenever Gwen tried to think of something terrible about Ronyn, all she could do is smile at his ridiculous 'hypotheticals' when he needed to get out of trouble, but wouldn't admit he caused it. When they decided that no, they will no longer leave each other letters in case someone were to see one, Ronyn caved in not even two days after and left her flowers instead. 

    It was sweet. It was proper. It was from a distance at yet so very close at the same time. It was their secret these past eight months, and no matter how many times Guinevere advised herself this was a terrible idea▬that so much could go wrong, and it would never lead anywhere ... she still made lavender dresses from the fabric he bought her. 

    Odette tugged the wool tight upwards in her loop she was making▬'Morgana's' bouquet of roses were starting to look very nice. "What did he do this time?"

    "What does he not ever do?" Morgana only replied, sighing as she took a seat and checked Odette's handiwork. She nodded, impressed. "I swear, he does not mature by age, he goes the opposite."

    Guinevere finished Odette's hair, placing a final flower in the nook of the delicate twists she made away from her face. The rest of her hair settled down her back. "There," Gwen stated, rubbing her friend's shoulders with a smile. "All done."

    "It looks lovely," complimented Adelynn, now feasting on cherries. She placed the seeds in a napkin and politely discarded them in the bowl beside the platter. 

    "If you were only a princess," Morgana sweetly told her youngest maid. "You would be the fairest of them all."

    Odette blushed and shook her head. "What?" she chuckled, not sure how to take the compliment. "No. I believe there are real princesses who are far fairer. I have heard of Princess Elena's beauty. Or you▬you, My Lady, are certainly fairer."

    Morgana rolled her eyes with a smile. She handed Odette one of the strawberries she took. "One of these days I will manage to have you accept a compliment at least once."

    Stubbornly, Odette shook her head and said in a very dramatic voice: "For as long as either of us shall live, I will never take a compliment from you without giving you one in return."

    Morgana chuckled and quickly wrapped her arms around her young handmaiden, giving her quick squeeze. Both Gwen and Adelynn joined in their chuckles at Odette's ridiculous tone. Then, the King's Ward let go and asked: "But you must tell us, what did you see in that hidden tomb? What happened?"

    Odette set aside the needlework for Morgana and leaned forward, eager to retell her adventure. "It was filled to the brim with riches. Gold, rubies, sapphires▬any jewel you could ever think of. But the miners were terrified▬and as they should be! We walked in and there one of them was: he had died from traps. Some arrow had struck his heart and he turned the colour of stone, his eyes blood-red like a monster. I do not want to think who would have created such a horrible trap▬or how."

    "Well, Uther cares little of anything but the riches he has just taken for himself," Morgana muttered▬and her tone suddenly turned very sour in comparison to her sweet smiles before. "I daresay the miner's family have received no condolences on his part. Perhaps we should prepare them a basket."

    Despite Odette's grave descriptions, the conversations about the tomb found did not continue from there, other than figuring out what to bring the miner's grieving family. Even though she did not feel any less unsettled than she had before, this irrational foreboding dread on the contents of that tomb may as well be just that: irrational. 

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

    ODETTE JOINED Gaius for dinner that night. She was very tired already, having▬just early in the evening▬already coaxed Morgana awake from a nightmare that left her screaming. Odette found her mistress extraordinarily brave, for being so kind and genuine during the day when she was left terrified and weeping in the night. Whatever she had seen tonight it had shaken her a great deal, and Odette stayed with her even after Gwen returned. She was late to dinner, but she had wanted to make sure Morgana would be all right before she left. Though, when she realised that Merlin was late in returning from Arthur's hunting trip, that she wasn't delaying Gaius at all. 

    The Court Physician was how she often found him: hunched over manuscripts and many different potions, scowling into the looking glass to aid his ageing eyes in reading. 

    Curious, Odette made her way over. "Are you looking at runes from the tomb?" she asked the physician.

    Gaius glanced up. He let out a tired sigh and set down his many parchments and scripts. "Yes," he told her eventually, in that voice he always held that meant more than what he was letting on. 

    The young handmaiden nodded. She swung her arms and shuffled closer. She tried to peer over his shoulder. "Anything you can share?" When he didn't tell her straight way, Odette immediately slumped to mutter: "Or must I wait until Merlin gets here? Surely it is not my fault he is late and so I have to wait..."

    As if knowing she was talking about him, it was at that moment the door opened. Odette spun around and immediately exclaimed: "Merlin▬!" as soon as she recognised his dark hair. "Come in quick, Gaius was just about to tell..." she faltered, her excitement turning into a frown when she saw the glum look on his face. "What is it?" she then asked, gentle. "Are you all right?"

    Merlin sighed as he closed the door. Miserable, he dropped his bags onto the table. "Nothing..." he murmured. "Just ... I saved Arthur's life; someone else got the credit▬just the usual." 

    He pulled off his final bag and wandered over with a slight drag in his step. "What is it you were saying?" Merlin noticed the manuscripts and writing Gaius had been pondering over, and his interest was immediately piqued. He came to a stop behind Odette, hovering over her shoulder. "Did you find something?" he then asked Gaius.

    The physician nodded. "I found this inscription on the sceptre inside the tomb." He pointed to the writings and both servants leaned in, eyes narrowed, to try and read it.

    Soon, they realised that they very much couldn't.

    Merlin made a face, confused but intrigued. "What language is that?"

    Gaius shook his head. "I do not know. Sign would have known many languages."

    The name struck sudden familiarity with Odette. She stood up straighter, glancing at Gaius with a breath of disbelief▬not sure whether she heard him properly. "Sigan?"

    The physician nodded. "It is his tomb."

    Merlin didn't share the worried frown etched on Odette's face. He sat down on the window steps behind them. "Wait▬who is he?"

    Both Gaius and Odette turned to him, surprised he did not know. It was strange that for once, Odette knew something Merlin did not regarding magic and sorcery. But the tale of Cornelius Sigan was a tale no child within Camelot grew up without▬and most of time, Odette had been scared with nightmares of the story of an all-powerful, arrogant sorcerer who tried to take over the kingdom (and nearly won) using evil means that made her younger self terrified to go to sleep.  

    "Merlin," said Gaius, "he was the most powerful sorcerer to have lived."

    "Really?"

    "You did not grow up in Camelot, but for those of us who did▬Cornelius Sigan was a figure of nightmare."

    Merlin shifted uneasily in his seat. Odette decided to join him, slipping into the small space left right at his side. "Why?"

    "His powers," said Odette. "My mother used to tell me that Sigan was so powerful, he could change day into night and turn the tides of the ocean. He was so evil and so lustful for power that not even the laws of nature could stop him."

    "Legend has it," continued Gaius. He linked his fingers together and set them down on his writings, "his spells helped build Camelot itself."

    "What happened?"

    "In the end he grew too powerful and the king at that time ordered his execution."

    Merlin nodded. Then, he pursed his lips. "Wait ... if he is dead," he asked, "why are you so worried?"

    Gaius's tone turned grave: "Sigan could not bear the thought that his wealth and power would die with him, so he became obsessed with finding a way to defeat death itself."

    Odette and Merlin shared a concerned glance. Unsure, the young handmaiden murmured. "But ... surely that is all a mythical tale, yes? This is just his tomb, no man can come back to life with his own power." At Gaius's frown, she grew less and less sure. Odette swallowed harshly. "R▬Right?" she added. "Right? Surely you do not believe he could succeed in such a thing...?"

    Gaius did not give her an answer of yes or no. Instead, he took a deep breath and decided to state in a murmur of warning: "Let us hope not, for all our sakes."

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

    a/n: this book is on my mind so much that I literally cannot do my assignments without publishing this chapter so the book would get AWAY from my head just for a second.

    anyway we love the reintroducing characters for the first chapter of the new act energy >>>

   season two is just >>> 

    ya'll are so not ready, or maybe you are. I dunno. I just love the energy in this season ahahah. I love the energy in all the upcoming seasons tbh. 

    the gaslighting from merlin to arthur is so real in this season lol.

   Arthur: i hAd sAUSaGAEs!
   Merlin: *hiding sausages literally in his water jug* what sausages?

    also the theme of romance in this book is most definitely a reflection of the fact that a whole part of arthurian literature is just arthurian romance >>> 

    (not really but I thought it'd be cool to suddenly make it seem as though that was my plan all along with how all my main romances parallel each other lol).

    anyway ahah FIRST CHAPTER OF ACT ONE WOOO!! (also u should give the playlist on Spotify for this act some love <333)