A Different Destiny / Merthur

Ring of Fire

It was midnight.  Not that that mattered.  It could be any time, any weather — blazing sunlight or hail storm — and the cavern would remain utterly unchanged: dark and draughty.

Arthur shuddered.  It had been days since he was last in the cavern and now, after merely a few minutes, he couldn't wait to get out again.  It was hard to imagine a person living — surviving — here, existing in the same dank space for years on end.  It was harder still to imagine a dragon doing the same.

"Can you be trusted?" 

The dragon let out a low laugh, looking between the warlock and the Prince.

"I said," Merlin repeated, "can you be trusted?"

"Can you?"  The dragon countered.  "You promised to grant my freedom.  You gave me your word, young warlock, do not go back on it."

A frown flickered across his face.  "Alright," he sighed.  Then, holding out a hand: "Arthur, the sword."

The Prince moved closer behind him, pressing the hilt into his hand.  Merlin's fingers curled around it, and the sudden weight of the sword seemed to tug his wrist downwards.  Excalibur was heavier than it looked.  "Hold on," Arthur whispered, as he moved to pull away, "are you sure you know how to use this?"

Merlin rolled his eyes.  "I'm sure I can manage."

Arthur held up his hands and stepped aside.

"Alright," Merlin breathed, staring at the chain before him.  It was huge.  Each link seemed bulkier the the last, and dulled too, as if all colour had bled away, and only the darkest of greys remained.  It looked old.  And worn.  And yet, there wasn't a spec of rust to be found.  It wouldn't take a genius to realise that a chain built to hold a dragon would have to be forged by magic.  Merlin drew in a steady breath and raised the sword above his head: as the chain had been made, so too would it be destroyed. He took one last look at the dragon and then, closing his eyes, began the incantation; "Ic bebeod thisne swurd thaet he forcearf tha bnede thara dracan," his eyes flew open, now bright gold, as he yelled the final word: "Unclce!"

Merlin brought the sword down hard.

And then several things happened at once.

The chain broke, snapping with such a force that it flung Merlin, and Excalibur with him, backwards.  Arthur moved just in time to catch him, swinging his good arm around Merlin's shoulders, but completely missed the sword, which clattered down just inches from the drop into the chasm.  At the same time, the dragon shot upwards, soaring into the darkness and disappearing from view. 

It was silent for a moment: the only noise a faint echo of falling stones and dirt.  The dragon had broken the surface.  For a second, the silence remained.

And then there was a deafening roar. 

~~~

"Guards!"  Arthur yelled, tearing along the corridor, "wake the King!  We have a crisis on our hands!" He didn't wait for an answer but, thundering round a corner with Merlin at his heels, made straight for his chambers. He needed armour. And he needed it fast.

Merlin was furious with himself. He'd known freeing Kilgarrah was risky but, whatever his doubts, nothing could've prepared him for this. As soon as they'd left the cavern, already running, it was visible from the first window they came to: fire. Great flames that descended from the blackened sky and spread across the courtyard. And somewhere overhead, a shadowy figure was circling.