The year: 913

The Enchanted Forest,
Eastern boundary of Essetir,
Albion

[Merlin's POV]

After a slap on the back of my head, courtesy of one Arthur Pendragon, our team of twelve entered the gateway to hell. 

The forest was exactly as described by those few who had survived and returned from its depths to tell of the horrors that awaited those unfortunate souls who had wandered inside. I refused to believe the tales these scumbags narrated. In my mind, it was a hoax concocted by the King of Essitire. It was all a ploy to keep his enemies out and scare his citizens from leaving the kingdom. 

Imagine my surprise when, as soon as we entered the woods, my whole body started to buzz from the inside out. My eyes closed in response to the warmth that flooded them. The knowledge that the moment I opened them, they would glow and let my secret out, a secret I had done everything to hide, turned my usually sharp presence of mind dull. 

Moving closer to Arthur on the pretext of inspecting a shrub, I crouched down, "This is interesting-" and pretended to faint. I toppled over and hit the ground, getting mud all over the left half of my face. It was one of my usual tricks to escape sticky situations; once again, it worked like a charm. 

I gave myself a pat on the back for pulling the act off so gracefully that this time I didn't even have to suffer any consequences that usually accompanied my fall. 

At least, that's what I thought at the time. 

As I lay motionless, the fabric over my heart grew unbearably hot. Staying still, I endured the heat that burned my skin, and opening my palm, I muttered a spell under my breath. 

The bush a few feet to our right caught fire. The release of magic from my body brought me relief. 

"Magic!" Lancelot exclaimed. I heard the rustling of leaves behind me. It was Arthur. Shortly after, a few more knights joined him by my side. 

Crouching down, Arthur called, "Merlin?" He shook my shoulders gently and pulled me in his lap. The man was a spoiled brat who threw insults at me left, right, and center. He went out of his way to make himself look heartless and cold, but I knew better. I had witnessed his kindness on multiple occasions. He was the sort of man who wouldn't hesitate to throw a punch at you just for fun, but when it really mattered, he would also take an arrow to his heart for you. 

That was Arthur for you: a truly selfless man who never wanted his best to come to light. 

Not wanting anyone to hear him lest his true self come to light, he whispered, "Damn it, Merlin, you need to wake up. Look, we need to find Morgana and Guinevere. I can't leave you here." Every syllable that left his lips was soaked in concern; it drowned me in a sea of guilt. 

I hated lying to Arthur. I looked forward to a day when I could tell him who I was and hoped to see acceptance in his blue eyes. 

"My lord, it's not safe for any of us here. What do you suggest we do?" Lancelot said, placing his palm on my forehead. 

Recalling that none of my spells worked on Arthur- for he was born of magic- put me at ease, and I muttered another spell and let it loose. This one helped me control weak minds for a short period. Soon it found a target and latched on. 

Already feeling much better than I did a few minutes ago, I waited a few more to acquaint myself with the knight's mind and mouthed the words I needed Arthur to hear. 

"My lord-" Gawain approached Arthur, "-how about we escort Merlin out here and leave him there with one of us watching over him? It's much too dangerous to leave him here, and we can't carry him with us either."

"You are right, Gawain." Arthur agreed, "We can't take him with us; he will only slow us down."

"He is closest to Lancelot." Gawain, whom I was possessing at the moment, pressed on, "As soon as he regains his bearings, Lancelot can help him get to us."

Arthur took a deep breath and left it with a sigh, "I think that's for the best." He placed my head on the forest floor more gently than necessary and commanded, "Let's do as Gawain suggests."

I thanked the powers that be that Gawain, the loyal giant of a knight who was all brawn and no brain, had accompanied us. The man had acted as my mouthpiece more than a few times since his recruitment, and now, thanks to my words falling from his mouth, he had earned a reputation for being the knight with the most situation-accurate ideas.

As I was being carried out, Arthur instructed his knights on how best to cover the entirety of the woods. If I could, I would have told him it wouldn't work. When magic was at play, usual tactics didn't work. Alas, I couldn't. In fact, it would be best if he stuck to his plans, but from what I had noticed, he rarely did. 

Soon the command was carried out, and I was left alone with Lancelot. 

"You can stop pretending now, Merlin. They left."

Lancelot- like half of the knights recruited by Arthur- came from a humble home, but everything about him gave the impression that he was of high birth. After Arthur, he was the one I admired the most. 

He was also the only one, except Sir Taliesen, who knew I had magic. 

Did it bother me that he had found out about it (accidentally, of course)? Yes. Initially, it scared me to think what he might do with the knowledge, but as time passed and Lancelot neither said nor did anything to expose my secret, I became comfortable with him knowing about it. The fact that he knew my secret had come in handy more than once, especially when I needed to work alone. More often than not, it was this gallant knight that came to my aid and protected my backside from getting exposed, so to speak. 

I opened my eyes and gave him a lopsided smile. He returned my smile and offered me his hand, helping me to my feet. "Thanks, Lance. I owe you one."

"Let's not keep count, shall we. We are friends, after all." He said with utmost sincerity and got down to business, "So, what's the plan? Does this place have magic?"

I nodded. "Yes. It does. It's ancient and powerful. I have a feeling that if we find the source, we will find them."

"If that's what your gut tells you, let's do it. What do you need from me?"

I shrugged, "Do what you always do, keep Arthur from getting in my way of performing magic. That's all."

"Got it." Lancelot gave me a curt nod, and together, we entered the forbidden forest again. 

Unlike Arthur and his team, Lancelot and I had help: Morgana's lace, which showed us the path, and my magic that stopped us from falling into traps. Thus, it was no surprise that soon we found ourselves in front of what I assumed to be a castle. 

From where we stood, we could see the walls: dark as the moonless night sky. There were pillars on either side of its humongous arched door. If I had to guess, I would say that if Akurra ever had a home, it would have looked similar to this magnificent structure whose roof lay beyond our field of vision. 

"What do you make of this, Merlin?" Lancelot swiped his finger over the nearest wall. It came away covered in some kind of black powdery substance. He held it up to his nose and glanced at me bewildered, "It smells like burnt wood."

I closed my eyes and let my magic take over. Heat danced around my dark eyes, and a moment later, they glowed. Lancelot was not surprised. He had seen it the first time we had met and many times after that. 

However, what surprised him was when the arched door opened a smidgen as if inviting us in. 

"Ready?" I wiggled my brows, and Lancelot shrugged, "When am I not? Let's do this."

Together, we entered the castle with hearts thumping with a mix of hope, apprehension, and excitement, all rolled into one.

Once inside, Lancelot suggested that we split up. I did not sense any threats either, so we went to look for the ladies in opposite directions. After a few minutes of wandering the empty halls, I entered the gigantic room. The large bonfire was the first thing I noticed. Its blue angry flames seemed to make acquaintance with the sky, making it impossible to see beyond it. I hated using magic when I didn't know what I was dealing with, but I was desperate. The lace had started losing heat and was growing cooler by the second; I feared that if the item went completely cold, it would mean that Lady Morgana was dead. 

"Hassssamin!" I yelled a spell that allowed me to see past opaque objects, but my voice was consumed by the roar of the raging inferno. 

Nothing happened. 

"Crossinayd." I tried a different spell; this one was supposed to let me pass through fire unharmed. However, when I stepped towards it, the heat from the fire made it impossible for me to step any closer. 

After that, I tried a few more of them. None were successful. It was like what oiled the fire was magic itself. 

Luckily, just when I was about to give up, a hooded figure, dressed in black shimmering robes, appeared through a door next to me. I was sure it wasn't there before. Ignoring me, the man walked into the fire and disappeared inside it.

I couldn't believe my eyes. This level of sorcery was unheard of. I tried the first spell again, and to my surprise, it worked.

I could finally see past the inferno. The hooded figure was squatting; his back was turned towards me. Next to him lay Morgana. Unconscious. From what I could tell, she had no visible scars. I breathed a sigh of relief and tried the second spell hoping it would work. It did not. 

There was nothing else to do but watch and hope that this figure was a friend, not a foe. 

The man, at least that's what I presumed, held his palm out, and an instant later, a shiny, oddly-shaped creature approached him. It was like nothing I had seen before; maybe a transfiguration spell had gone wrong, I guessed. 

The creature, which looked like a horse and a snake had mated and birthed it, tilted its head and limped towards Morgana. 

Though I watched everything unfold, I understood absolutely nothing. It frustrated me. The only thing in my favor at the moment was that neither the man nor the creature seemed threatening. 

A loud crashing sound from somewhere behind me distracted me. I looked over my shoulder; there was nothing there. The act, however, made me realize that I was an easy target for anyone who chose that moment to attack me. I rushed to the farthest corner of the hall inconspicuously just in time to catch a hole that appeared right next to Morgana; with my curiosity piqued, I moved as close to the flames as possible without getting burnt and watched as a man or a young boy (I wasn't sure which) stepped inside. Dressed in purple robes (which did little to cover his slightly bloated belly) were like the ones I used to wear when I was donning my Emrys disguise; taking two steps towards the hooded man, the youngster tripped slightly.

I regretted not being close enough; my mind raced, trying to find ways to get closer. Meanwhile, the boy stood awkwardly as the creature approached it and (if I had to guess) sniffed his feet, moving upward. 

The hooded man stood up.

The one in purple raised his arms and shook his head, making me wonder what he was trying to do. 

The act must have meant something to the man in black, who stepped closer and held out his hand. 

The youngster, in turn, pulled out something from around his neck and showed it to the hooded figure. 

The boy held the deformed creature, and the hooded figure muttered something, after which the boy let it go; it felt like the end of a ritual, and then they hugged. 

It threw me off. 

Did they know each other? 

What did the boy show him? 

Why had the creature moved into Lady Morgana's lap? 

Surrounded by a multitude of thoughts, I continued to wait, and the man and the boy sat facing each other and resumed the conversation. To say that I was bored would be an understatement. 

"Merlin, are you alright!?" Lancelot's panicked voice woke me up. I reckoned that I must have fallen asleep sometime while keeping watch. How much time had passed? What had I missed? More importantly, had I lost Lady Morgana again? 

Sleep left me instantly. My heart thumped, and the rest of Lancelot's words got washed away by the wave of concern that swept over me. 

I couldn't fail Arthur, nor could I, Morgana. 

Even as I cursed myself, I held up my palm, "Hassssamin!" I whispered, hoping it would work. 

It did, and to my surprise, Morgana was still where I had seen her last, but the two strangers were gone and in their place, dressed in purple robes, stood...Emrys!?

That didn't make any sense. 

I was Emrys, and I wasn't there but here. What was happening!?

I sidestepped Lancelot, who had stopped talking and was watching my every move. He must have noticed my anxiety, for the next moment, I felt his hand on my shoulder, "Relax, my friend, whatever it is, we will take care of it." 

His reassurance fell on my ears but did not reach my heart as I watched the man, who was definitely an imposter pretending to be me, reach for Morgana and caress her forehead. 

It scared me to think about what he might do next. That sick pervert! 

"Merlin, what are you looking at?" The knight asked, interrupting my thoughts. I glanced back and noticed for the first time that he was not alone; draped over his broad shoulders lay Guin, unconscious and looking like she weighed less than a pail of water. 

"I will take care of things here. Why don't you leave with Guin? She might need to be looked at."

Lancelot nodded, "Alright," and looking worried, asked, "You haven't found her yet, have you?"

"No." I lied. I didn't have time to explain what I had witnessed and didn't think it was right to disclose what I had seen just now. Morgana was a lady, a princess in her own right; protecting her virtue was important. 

All of a sudden, I felt like kicking myself. To me, Guin was as important as Morgana. 

I gazed at the flames, looking past them. The boy, the imposter, was squatting next to Morgana with the creature resting its head on his lap. Both seemed like they were waiting.

Feeling calmer than before, I turned towards the knight, "Lancelot, you know that Guin is like a sister to me, don't you?"

My friend read my mind, "I won't ever disappoint you, Merlin; don't worry, I know what she means to you.'' With that, he walked out, leaving me to take care of Morgana and the mysterious imposter.

I gazed at the fire; something was different. The fire seemed to have lost its rage, but there was only one way to be sure. 

I opened my palms, and summoning my magic, I muttered, "Crossinayd!" 

The fire parted, welcoming me to pass through, and for a moment, the imposter looked my way.

Our gazes met and held till he lifted his hand and beckoned me to join him, "You don't have much time to spare, Merlin; Arthur will be here soon."