Merlyn's Fate

The Curse of Cornelius Sigan P3

Uther had just about managed to move from the relative safety of the throne room at the news that his son was injured. Arthur didn't think he'd ever seen him run, nor that he ever would again, but the sight of him red-faced and sweaty was minutely terrifying.

"Arthur?" he gasped in relief at the sight of blonde hair, patting the prince on the shoulder in an effort to show his pride.

"It's nothing." the knight dismissed through gritted teeth, determined to get back outside. "Just a flesh wound."

The king nodded, his panic receding slightly. "Have we driven the creatures out?" he asked, foolishly hopeful.

"They have control of the lower town. The market has been all but destroyed." Arthur reported, trying to keep his face in some kind of mask of indifference as he combatted the pain from his injury.

"How many dead?"

"Too many to number." he adverted his gaze from his father, smiling grimly as Merlyn put a hand on his arm in a comforting manner. He knew that the losses hurt her just as much as they did him, a reminder of all that they'd failed.

"I'm sealing the citadel." Uther announced, refusing to take the time to consider any other option. He was scared, they all were, but such drastic actions would result in hundreds more casualties.

"I'm going back out there." Merlyn murmured in her prince's ear, handing the bloody cloth she'd been holding against his wound to Morgana, before heading towards the doors. She grabbed her sword, running back into the courtyard in the hope that she could get as many people into the citadel before Arthur inevitably caved to his father's demand.

The prince turned to the king in horror, sure that, if he allowed this to happen, he'd never be able to live with himself. "You can't!" he exclaimed, ignoring the loud growling of the gargoyles mere metres from the castle walls.

"I have no choice. I have to protect those who have a chance. If I don't, we will all fall." Uther looked around the room, evidently accepting the fact that those who he could see would be all that was left of Camelot in an hour's time. Arthur stood, oblivious to the blood still dripping down his arm, and unsheathed his own sword, heading for the same door that Merlyn had left through moments earlier.

"There are still people trapped on the drawbridge. I can't let them die." The prince couldn't finish his thought out loud. Merlyn would be trapped on the drawbridge, no doubt saving lives as the beasts swooped down, eventually succumbing to death if there was no hope of salvation. He needed to help her, his people, those who entrusted their protection with him and his knights; there was nothing his father could say that would stop him.

"I forbid you." Uther tried, "It's suicide."

Arthur had never been so sure of anything in his life. "It's my duty to Camelot and to myself." he countered, marching into the open air.

∆

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Merlyn shouted over the screeches of the monsters, ducking as one attempted to claw her head off.

"Saving your life." he answered, launching himself at her in a similar fashion to how she'd pushed him over earlier. The creature missed them, flying back into the air for another strike. They scrambled to their feet, noting how a few of Arthur's braver knights arrived on the scene, standing in front of some distraught families, trying to help some of the fallen children lying so very still on the ground.

"Check for survivors." The prince spoke breathlessly, herding a few of the wounded back from the gargoyles. Merlyn scanned the people, seeing how absolutely petrified they each appeared. This couldn't go on, their numbers were dwindling with little to no results. She needed help, someone who was old enough to know of Sigan. Something as ancient as the sorcerer stood on the ramparts, smirking at the struggling warriors below.