Merlin: the secret prince

training

Walking into the clearing, Merlin inhaled deeply, the scent of pine and smoke lingering in the air. Then, in a low, powerful voice, he began to speak in the ancient and revered language of the dragons.

"Killgarah, je t'invoque."
(Killgarah, I summon you.)

A/N: I've decided that the language of the dragons will be French. Please forgive any errors—I am not a native speaker and used Google Translate.

A few tense minutes passed before the sound of mighty wings slicing through the air echoed above. A rush of wind blew through the trees as the colossal golden dragon descended, his massive form landing with an earth-shaking thud. His eyes—ancient, wise, and fierce—locked on Merlin.

"Young warlock," Killgarah rumbled, "I see you have reclaimed your rightful place."

Merlin smiled, pride and a quiet sadness flickering in his expression. "I have, Killgarah. Your advice over the years has been invaluable. Today, I return to ask a favor—for my people, and for myself."

Killgarah bowed his great head. "Of course, Merlin. What is it that you require of me?"

Merlin's tone turned hopeful. "Athusia mentioned that she spoke to you—that you promised aid in restoring the kingdom. I came to ask... Will you still honor that promise?"

The dragon's gaze softened. "Without question, young warlock. The time has come for Albion to rise. The Once and Future King shall unite the lands—from the southern shores to the northern peaks. Prosperity will return to the realm. And you, Merlin, have done much to protect him... even at the cost of your own throne. It is time I repaid that debt."

Merlin bowed in return. "My kingdom will forever be in your debt."

"I would be honored to fight beside you to reclaim it," Killgarah said. "You have sacrificed so much for others. I can think of no one more worthy to take your father's place."

With a final bow, the great dragon launched into the sky, his wings stirring the air into a powerful gust as he vanished beyond the clouds.

"Well, come on then," Merlin said with a grin, turning back toward the mountains. "We need to get back before dinner."

Arthur, still staring at the sky in shock, finally muttered, "Did I just see a talking dragon?"

"And you're friends with a warlock-dragonlord-prince," Merlin replied with a smirk, clearly enjoying Arthur's expression.

"But—" Arthur stammered.

"Arthur, this isn't even the first talking dragon you've seen," Merlin said. "Now, let's go meet the rest. The dragons have waited long enough. I promise—they'll be loyal to each of you."

The knights followed Merlin toward the dragon den nestled deep within the cliffs.

"Percy," Merlin called, glancing at his towering knight. "Have you been assigned your dragon yet?"

"No, Sire," Percival replied. "Your father once said it would be up to you—once I became First Knight."

Merlin nodded, ignoring the use of his title. "Then it's time."

He turned to the sky and called, "Athusia!"

With a rush of wind, the majestic dragon descended, her scales shimmering like moonlight. "Yes, Merlin?" she asked.

"It's time. Their dragons are ready."

Athusia nodded solemnly. "Percival?"

"He's ready," Merlin confirmed.