Merlin One-Shots

Messenger's Proclamation

Pt. 3 of "A Destiny of War", if you haven't read that or "Distant Battle Cry" (pt.2) Please make sure to read those first!

Also yes I know it's been like a year, but hey I'm back for this chapter lmao

Tears were streaming down Mordred's face as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. This couldn't be. It couldn't! Something was wrong with his papa- never had he acted in such blind rage. Before Modred even took his first breath, his father worked tirelessly to create a new home for the Magical. And he succeeded! Whether a beast, man, or wizard, everyone lived freely, hidden away from the iron world. Sure, they didn't have a fancy castle, but they had a home. Killigharah and Aithusa even had their own caves in the mountain outside the forest. Merlin and Mordred, however noble, stayed humble, sleeping in the woods alongside the Druids. Merlin told Mordred that it helps them stay connected with the magic woven under the soil and in the trees.

So why now? Why risk everything?

Breathless, Mordred entered the cave that housed the Great Beast.

"Killigharah!" Mordred cried out.

A rumble echoed from the heart of the mountain, and soon the gold dragon stepped forth from the shadows. Mordred's breath hitched- no matter how many times he's seen Killigarah, his power still intimidates him.

"Young warlock's son," Killigharah said gravely. "I know why you're here."

Mordred fell to his knees, crying, desperate for answers.

"I don't understand! Why does Papa hate the Pendragon so much? Why war, why now?!"

For a while, Killigharah just watched the poor boy bawl his eyes out. He understood the weight Mordred carried. He was only a hatchling, shielded from the many horrors his father and friends faced in the iron world.

"Dear Mordred," Killigharah started after Mordred's tears slowed down, "your father has been fighting a war of his own long before you were even born. A war against his own destiny."

"What do you mean?"

"I know you have seen visions of your father's past. Of days in a foreign land, surrounded by now enemies, once friends."

Mordred nodded, wiping his nose and listening carefully.

"The day your father was banished from Camelot was the day his soul fractured. King Arthur was his other half; my lord could never be whole without him. Fifteen years has he battled against his destiny, his very soul. But fate has a way. Fate always has a way. If peace cannot bring the kings together, then it will have it through war."

Mordred gasped. "How could that be fate's plan? We'll all die before Albion comes to pass!"

"I know," Killigharah said grimly.

Mordred felt nauseous. He had already lost his mother...he couldn't lose his father too. In a tiny voice, he whispered, "what can I do...?"

"Fix Albion."

"What?!" Mordred exclaimed, surprised.

Killigharah lowered his head, his golden eyes looking into the young boy's.

"You are your father's greatest love. He built a kingdom just so you could live your youth without persecution. His ears are deaf from rage, his reason blinded by pain. If there's anyone who can save him, it's you."

"How? He used to always listen to me, but now it's like I'm just a dumb kid!"

"Go to the Pendragon King. Bring him here, force your father to listen."

"And how are you sure that he won't just kill me? He hunts our people!"

Killigharah snorted almost irritably. "Do you think I would tell you this if I thought for a moment Arthur would slaughter you like a little lamb? My master would kill me if I didn't first."

"Fine. How do I get there? Even if some bandit or child snatcher doesn't kill me, it's still hundreds of miles away! And it's not like I can ask you or Aithusa, Papa would just summon you back."

"Listen carefully, boy. There are still many things you have yet to learn about magic. No, you cannot use the whiteling or I, but we are one of many creatures in your possession. When you leave this cave, you are to seek out the unicorn herd. Tell them of your wish. If they believe your quest is for a purpose as pure as they, one will aid you."

"What if they don't think that?"

Killigharah's expression softened. "Mordred, dear child, do not burden yourself with such silly thoughts. Approach the unicorns, bow, and humbly ask for their assistance. You'll learn from there."

Mordred took a deep breath, slowly getting to his feet again.

"Okay, I will. Tomorrow, when Father sleeps, I'll go to the unicorns." Mordred paused for a moment, then laughed.

"What is so humorous, child?"

"My father is going to be pissed if he learns you gave me a straight answer."


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Mordred was grateful he inherited his father's ability to creep past anyone. It was difficult, but he managed to slip by the guards protecting their tent and camp and headed deep into the forest. His heart was racing. He'd never done anything as rebellious as this before. He'd also never met with a magical creature without his father before. He wasn't scared of getting hurt- unicorns were incapable of such things. Or at least he thinks that. Killigharah was a wise dragon, probably older than the magical ruins of the Old Religion. Surely he was right about this. Right?

It wasn't long before he spotted the unicorns. There are nearly thirty now, something their small kingdom has taken tremendous pride in. Most were a soft, ghostly white color; however, a few, mostly younger unicorns, showed beautiful patterns of gold and brown fur. As Mordred approached, bowing low as a sign of respect, the eldest, Baerolynn, strode towards the young boy.

"Rise, little one. What brings you to our herd, alone?"

"My father is hurting. Fate is angry that he never returned for Arthur, and now it's making him force a war between our people and his. I want to stop this- I want to save my father from making a mistake that costs us everything."

"You wish to save your father?"

Mordred nods. "My father, my people, my land- I fear the stories they tell me of life before he saved us. I know I am but a child, but I will do everything to save my father in return."

The unicorn tilted his head curiously. "And how will you do that?"

Mordred fiddled with his hands. He wasn't sure about this plan- hell, he wasn't even sure if he could call this a plan.

"Well I was thinking- or rather Killigharah was thinking- anyways, we thought that if I could sneak into Camelot, speak with King Arthur and somehow get him here very very quickly so he and papa could talk, then maybe everything would...be okay?"

"You don't sound very sure of this plan."

Mordred looked down. "I'm...not. I'm scared that king Arthur will kill me, or if I bring him back, Papa will kill him, or that Papa will find out and kill me!"

"But you're willing to risk all of this to save your father?"

Mordred looked back at Baerolynn, his pale eyes staring deep into Mordred's hazel-blue own.

"I always knew my father wasn't truly happy...for a while, I thought it was because of mama's death...but now I know that was only part of a much deeper cavern dividing his heart. I want my father to be happy and our people to be happy. I don't know if this will work, but I have to try. I have to."

After an eternity, and to Mordred's utter shock, Baerolynn bowed.

"It would be an honor to serve you, Mordred, Prince of Magic, on your quest to save your father and the future of Albion."

"I- really?"

"Yes, young prince. I am the strongest of our herd. I will carry you to Camelot and protect you against harm. And if you are successful, I will carry you and the King back home."

Mordred smiled brightly, bowing deeply before running over and climbing onto the unicorn's back. He was going to ride a unicorn!

"Hold my mane tightly, dear child. Do not fear of hurting me."

Mordred obliged, leaning close to Baerolynn's body and tightly gripping his mane. Baerolynn let out a loud neigh before sprinting forward. Mordred yelped, not expecting the sudden bolt. As Baerolynn ran faster, his horn started to glow. Whisps of golden magic shot forward. The world itself seemed to wrap around them, spinning faster and burning more brilliantly with each step. Mordred closed his eyes, the magic becoming too bright to handle. Barely a moment later, an indescribable sensation washed over him as Baerolynn leaped. If he had opened his eyes, he would have seen magic itself. A dimension where the essence of life is woven by a golden thread forged by starlight. When Baerolynn's hooves touched down, they were no longer in the kingdom of magic. They were in King Arthur's courtroom, where he happened to be having a late meeting with the Round Table.


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Arthur was with his most trusted council members, discussing how to prepare for the possibility of magical warfare with little avail. He'd barely slept since he saw the beacon- his dreams were plagued with terrible devastation brought down by his once beloved half. Guinevere didn't look much better than him, and he noticed that she rarely left their son's side- an indication of her own terrible dreams. While Sir Leon was giving a report regarding their military strength, Arthur's hair stood on end. Something was about to happen. He couldn't explain it, but the feeling grew so intense he yelled, "Get down!"

As everyone dropped to the ground, a loud, whirring noise enveloped the room, and horse hooves could be heard hitting the stone floor. Arthur and the knights shot up, pulling their swords. To his utter disbelief, a unicorn now stood in the room, and on its back appeared to be a small man.

"Drop your weapons!" yelled the unicorn.

...Unicorns can talk?

Guinevere hid their son behind her, and the knights looked to Arthur for orders. He sheathed his sword- if that thing could teleport, their swords would do nothing.

The man slid off the unicorn's back, revealing himself to be a boy who couldn't have been older than his own son. He was wearing a druidic outfit made of cloth fit for a noble. He had black, curly hair and skin so pale it reminded Arthur a little too much of Merlin. Surely it couldn't be...

"Who are you?" Leon stated firmly.

"Um-...hi. I'm Mordred."

The boy's eyes searched the room until they landed on Arthur's. He stepped towards him but hesitated when the knights put their hands back on their sword hilts. Arthur raised his hand to stop them, taking a step towards the boy.

"How can someone how young harness the power of a unicorn? Who are you?"

Mordred's cheeks flushed red. "I just told you who I am! And I'm not that young. I'm twelve!"

Whispered erupted between the table, but Arthur hushed them.

"Very well, I'm sorry. I did not mean to come off disrespectful. Why have you come here?"

Mordred took a breath, collecting his thoughts. He was terrified, but he wasn't dead yet so that hopefully meant something.

"King Arthur, you...used to be friends with my father. Brothers, even."

Arthur froze, his suspicions being confirmed. The unicorn-riding child in front of him was Merlin's son.

"My father," Mordred continued, "is a good man. He has given the magical, the non-magical, and the lost home. But he is sad, King Arthur. Fate wanted him to build this home with you, to call it Albion. You were supposed to be two halves of the same coin, but your banishment broke that coin, and in turn broke your souls."

"Please," Mordred begged, "please look into your heart, King Arthur. Destiny is hurting my father, making him do something I know he would never do. It thinks the only way to bring you both together again is war."

"So it's true..." Arthur whispered, feeling sick. "Merlin wishes to go to war.

"It doesn't have to be like that! Come with me, back to my home. Talk with my Papa, please. If not to make amends, then to save our people."

Arthur walked up to Mordred, kneeling down so he could be at eye level. Oh, he could see so much of his brother in this boy. It made him smile a little, even if it hurt.

"Tell me, Mordred, do you think he'd accept my apology? After fifteen years?"

Mordred hesitated.

"I don't know...I think he'll be angry- really, really angry. At you and me. But it's not about what he wants, it's about what he needs. And my father- Merlin- needs you."

Mordred's last sentence struck Arthur deeply, tugging at an old, bleeding wound in his heart.

Merlin needs you.

He needs Merlin too.

He stood up, looking back at the table, the unicorn, and then Mordred. The room was heavy, waiting for Arthur's response.

"Okay Mordred. I'll go with you."

Mordred's face lit up brighter than Merlin's war beacon. The table started to object, and Arthur again raised his fist to silence them.

"But first, tell me everything."