The Crest of Ambrosius

Chapter 14

A/N: ...I'm sorry?

I definitely didn't mean to go 8 months without posting! Between working full time, moving abroad, then starting my Master's, it's been a bit hectic. But! I made it through my first trimester and am officially 1/3 of the way to getting my degree! So here's a chapter to celebrate! Please enjoy and, as always, I absolutely love all the votes and comments! It means a lot!

Despite the peace he had felt the night before, Merlin's mind churned in turmoil, his chest tightening with anxiety. It had been another full day of riding and they were a mere league from the camp where Dreócræft's people--no, his people--had taken refuge. It had been seven years since he had seen them and he was terrified of how he would be received. It was one thing to escape in the dead of night during the attack, but to never return, abandoning his people to the rule of his Uncle? Surely they would hate him. And he couldn't find it in himself to blame them.

In the revelations held the night before, Aurelius had explained the reason for his sudden search for his brother and the need for aid from Camelot: their Uncle Svein, a cold man filled with hatred for those he considered weak, had become even more violent, slaughtering anyone that did not declare their fealty to his reign. Families were forced to flee, seeking asylum from the horrors of the once-peaceful city. The citadel had since been overrun with dark magic and the kingdom had fallen out of balance without the Old Religion to defend it.

It was this fact that made the situation even more dire for Merlin. Not only did he worry for the future of his people, but the lack of balance was a matter he felt even more deeply. He was Emrys, a creature born of the very magic Uther attempted to purge from the world. Such actions had violently tipped the scales and the sudden return of so much magic to the earth had prompted the creation of a vessel to right the balance again: a child that was magic incarnate. In addition to his destiny to remain side by side with the Once and Future King, Merlin was the keeper of balance. Any shifts were profoundly felt by the warlock, and the closer they rode to Dreócræft, the more acute Merlin's senses became. The imbalance of the kingdom pulled at his magic, pleading with it to make things right once again.

His unease was obvious to the others, but he hoped they would merely attribute it to the looming reunion with the people of Dreócræft. That morning, his men had put away their traveling cloaks and pulled out their true attire, deep blue cloaks with silver dragon clasps, signifying their loyalty to their kingdom. Despite his anxiety, the sight warmed him, reminding him of home. He was almost overwhelmed when they presented him with his own, draping him once again in the royal blue and silver of his birthright.

The knights of both kingdoms were continuing their conversations from yesterday, swapping stories of various battles and other escapades, Gwaine serving as the main entertainment as usual. Aurelius and Arthur were deep in conversation, most likely discussing battle plans and other 'kingly' concerns now that Aurelius was to assume the throne. Satisfied that he wasn't going to be questioned on his tense shoulders, and keeping his eyes on the treeline for threats, Merlin thought back to the conversation the night before.

He had finally revealed his full story to his closest friends, telling of his childhood in Dreócræft where he grew up surrounded by magic and how the peace had been shattered by Svein's attack. His Uncle had always held disdain for Balinor's choice to keep the peace at almost all costs, hiding from Uther's reign of terror in favor of protecting his people. Svein saw this as an act of cowardice, especially with Dreócræft's excess supply of magic users, a group he believed should be enlisted, regardless of age or frailty, to form an all-powerful army. One that would be capable of slaughtering Camelot's ranks and usurping Uther.

When his suggestions of retaliation were ignored, Svein took matters into his own hands to find a group of loyal supporters and usurp Balinor instead. Had his nephews been caught during the attack, they surely would have been enslaved into their Uncle's ranks, providing him access to their combined power as sons of a dragonlord. Luckily though, both had managed to escape relatively unscathed, even if it had taken them seven years to find each other again.