A Herald of a New Age

Chapter twelve. Truths

|an| This is going to be the second chapter of its sort in this fic so far. I wouldn't say they are filler chapters, just that every few chapters I feel that I need a chapter that sorts stuff out- brings everyone level; concludes action and just to generally clear anything up that might not have been whilst I try to write my crappy action scenes or whatever they are. |an|

The screams had ceased, or was it just that Arthur wasn't hearing them anymore? Flashes of images from Arthurs memories, they filled the gaps between the sounds and feelings that also spun in the oblivion. It was full to the brim, bursting with Arthurs experiences, but at the same time it was empty. So, very empty. Arthur knew he was alone, and from that came more memories.

His horse rearing up in fright when he was a young boy. Out on a hunt with his father an Adder had skittered across the path. Arthur flung into the bushes. And then the fear that followed, it fuzzed the edges of the scene. Normally Arthur, looking back on such a memory, would have tutted himself- embarrassed that he should've felt so afraid when alone for only a few seconds. Now it was a little different, Arthur experienced it again. The fern fronds that tickled his nose as he scrambled fretfully off the floor loomed over him and the sound of a small Wren screeched menacingly in his ear.

Had he been able to see the last part of the memory he would have been reassured by his father and Knights immediately appearing through the trees with his horse in tow, but again, this time was different.

Why? The confusion brought on another, this time he was with his father in his mothers old chambers.

He was even younger this time, maybe five or six- he remembered the occasion well, he had asked his father why his mother died.

He had blamed it on a sorceress, said magic had been the cause. Malicious intent and magic, one in the same. The same drills he had received every day anyway- it wasn't the answer he had been looking for. He had wanted to know why and how. He had been fed up of the confusion.

Fed up. Now that was a feeling he often felt. So very fed up, with Merlin. He almost smiled as a memory of the man came to mind. Gangly and comic in his walk, spilling the jug of water on the floor and then slipping on it-

No, said the screams and twisting dark. No laughs, and Arthur was plunged into the most recent memory he had.

Merlin had told him he was a sorcerer.

Anger flared. Why? After all these years, he hadn't trusted Arthur? But he wasn't able to dwell on it, Another memory flew into vision, it smelled of blood. Arthur recoiled. He saw Gwaine being licked by a Wildren, but this time the giant rat lunged forward, biting the Knights head whole. Arthur when to scream but no sound came out and he was plunged back into dark.

That wasn't what had happened. Why was it changing his memories?

His feelings were bringing them forth, he had to calm down. He tried to clear his head, but it made everything throb more. He held on. He didn't know what was happening to him and he was having difficulty remembering where he was.

On a quest. Yes, he was on a quest for peace. The first step towards it anyway- there was a long way to go but, something wasn't quite right-

Yes, his best friend was a sorcerer and yet, it wasn't that that unnerved him. It was the Southern tribe, that was it- why? What had that man told him, the Druid who was... Dead.

Yes! The feud. And the fear in the eyes of the tribe members and.. Merlin.

He had just called Merlin his best friend. Why? He was a sorcerer, but then..