The Crest of Ambrosius

Chapter 10

AN: Hello! I honestly didn't expect to get another chapter out so soon. Hopefully the next one will be just as quick, as I've already got it outlined. Hope you enjoy!

A few hours passed peacefully, with no sign of any intruders, though Merlin remained awake. The fire had died down to embers, and a faint orange glow illuminated the clearing occupied by sleeping bodies. Percival had just taken over the watch, and was leaned against a tree on the edge of the clearing, staring off into the trees. Restless, and tired of feigning sleep, Merlin got up and moved towards the knight, trying to think of an excuse as to why he would be leaving the group at this time of night. As he reached the tree where Percival was reclined, the man turned to glance at the warlock. Merlin muttered something about not being able to sleep and wanting to take a walk and, at his friend's nod, turned to trudge off into the forest. As the glow of the fire faded behind him, he heard the knight's warning not to get lost. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself. He knew these woods better than the ones in Camelot.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, Merlin came to the waterfall that he remembered was nearby. It wasn't much more than a trickle of water over some stones, but it was still beautiful as the moonlight danced across the ripples and droplets. Overwhelmed with memories of his family's visits to this clearing before they lost everything, Merlin chose a flat area near the pool and sat down, staring unfocused into the clear water.

He could almost hear his brother's peals of laughter as Aurelius chased Merlin around the clearing, their mother fussing over whether or not they would be hurt and their father reassuring her that they would be fine. That was the first time anyone realized just how powerful Merlin could be. Their game of tag had quickly ended in a scuffle, which in itself wasn't unusual. But when Merlin banged his knee on a jagged rock, and Aurelius' panicked whispering and tiny conjured dragons no longer calmed him against the pain and the shock of blood, the weather turned ominous. The clear sunny day was quickly replaced with dark, fast-moving clouds, the wind whipping through the trees and low rumbles of thunder echoing through the forest. Luckily, Balinor, who was known by his people for his calm demeanor, was able to quiet his young son, and the storm vanished just as quickly as it appeared. After "the incident", as they had taken to calling it, Merlin began his magical studies, though they remained basic. He mostly just learned how to control his emotions. But when his kingdom was attacked, he lost his teacher, and Hunith had sent him to Gaius, cementing his destiny in Camelot. And now, here he was. Back in the same clearing, with another storm brewing. Though this one may not be so easily controlled.

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Arthur awoke to Percival's shout. Grabbing his sword and jumping to his feet, he was surprised to only see one intruder in the clearing, rather than a group of bandits, as he would have suspected. The man was tall, with broad shoulders and shaggy dark hair, the ends curling around his ears and the nape of his neck. He wore a white tunic and brown pants, with worn leather boots and a green travelling cloak. His face was tired, his green eyes set with weariness and he had the dark shadow of a beard. The most distinguishing feature was the thin white scar that graced his jawline, suggesting that he had taken part in at least one vicious battle. Though his stance suggested many more.

The knights of Camelot surrounded the intruder, though the Dreócræftan knights seemed unconcerned. Leveling his sword at the stranger, Arthur called out, "Identify yourself."

The man, though armed with a sword at his hip, simply raised his hands in surrender. "I do not wish you any harm." His voice was surprisingly soft, though it commanded respect. "My apologies for startling you. I only wished to reunite with my knights."

"Your knights?" Arthur's brow furrowed in confusion, then a look of understanding quickly smoothed his features. "You must be Dreócræft's prince. Aurelius," he stumbled over the unfamiliar name, "if I remember Garrick correctly." At Aurelius' nod, Arthur continued his introduction. "I am King Arthur of Camelot. My knights and I have come to assist you in reclaiming your kingdom."