Merlin: The Return

Prologue

This story is based on the BBC television show Merlin. All character rights belong to them. This story takes place several years after the death of King Arthur and contains spoilers about the show. No profit is gained from this story.

Prologue

The smoke billowed towards the sky, and the fire's reach spread. From a distance, a lanky young man with dark mussed hair and pronounced cheek bones leaned against a gnarled tree and watched in despair. The screams of the innocent raced up his spine, but he was paralyzed to stop it. For too long, he'd been gone. He'd failed his king. He'd failed his queen. And now he was failing his kingdom.

There would be no dragon to help him now. Too many years had passed since he'd touched his magic. And now those that used to rely on him would pay the price.

"It is strange how absolute devastation could be so horrifying and yet so beautiful." The familiar voice wrapped around him and threatened to steal his breath. He turned slowly to see the beautiful woman dressed in a tattered red dress. Her pale skin was still as luminescent as ever, and her brown hair fell in curls over her shoulder. She'd always been a beauty. There was a time where he'd been infatuated by her. She gave him a coy smile. "Hello, Merlin."

"Nimueh," he said softly. "You're dead."

"Are you sure about that?"

Merlin felt his magic course through his body. An unnatural chill seeped into his bones as he searched her with his gold tinted eyes. She carried the stench of death with her, and the seductive smile on her face slipped. With a sigh, she lifted her wrists, and Merlin could see the faint shimmer of black that chained her to the earth.

"Here for revenge? After all these years?" he asked. After all, he was the reason that she was dead. To save his mother, to save Gaius, Merlin discovered the strength of his power and ended her reign of terror.

"Revenge?" Nimueh chuckled. "Merlin, I didn't know that you could sink so low. Your destiny was to protect your king, and now he's dead. Instead of protecting your queen, you wallowed in your misery. Her enemies have moved in, and now Camelot will fall. Everyone will burn. To see you right now, so defeated, it revenge enough."

Merlin inhaled sharply. "Even you don't have the power to grant yourself reprieve from death, no matter how short it may be. Why the leash, Nimueh? What are you really doing here?"

"I'm wondering what you're doing watching instead of helping. The great Emrys, hiding in the tree line. That's hardly your style," she said with an cruel smile. He knew she enjoyed every moment of his discomfort.

He shook his head. Anger surged within him, but if he turned from her, he'd only have to face his failure. Face the truth in her words.

The sorceress watched him closely. "Is it possible that you really don't know what I'm doing here? Can you not feel it?"

There was something wrong. Merlin could feel the cold of something horrible seeping in his bones, and it had more than the end of Camelot. He'd known it for awhile, but he dared not investigate it. He said nothing.

"Magic is fleeing the land, Merlin. There are people who are...concerned."

"People?"

"Powerful people. Powerful beings."

"I gathered," Merlin said dryly. "There aren't too many people that can raise the dead. If you're here, power isn't all that far behind."

"Well, I know someone who can raise the dead, but she wouldn't keep me on such a tight leash," Nimueh said with a wink.