by GR Griffin
“You shouldn’t have killed it. It meant no harm to you.”
Meant no harm?! Arthur guffawed at this statement, his own eyes darkening. No. They only meant to rip him to shreds, suck out the jelly from his eyes and mutilate his face. It was then he realised the pang of upset in the man’s eyes…he was grieving over this monster’s loss?
“For your information- they attacked me-”
The druid stood up abruptly.
“-This was not a fair kill. Its blood will draw many to this site (Arthur dreaded to think what kind of creatures ‘many’ meant.).” his eyes glowed an entrancing gold for a moment, lighting up his features. Arthur held his knife tighter in alarm. Seemingly uncaring of Arthur Pendragon’s reaction, the raven-haired man frowned.
“Once again, the balance has been restored to nature.”
Drawing his eyebrows together, Arthur watched the druid kiss the tips his own fingers and then lower it towards the bodies of the dogs. And then in a peculiar way, the forest was peaceful, as if it were taking the time to mourn over the loss of its friends…which was absurd because forests didn’t have a conscious body. The balance of nature- Arthur scoffed – what did that even mean? All this magic lark seemed to have already thrown him into absurdity. An irate look from the druid indicated he’d said these words aloud, perhaps a little too derisively.
Merlin glowered irately at the blonde man he’d just saved. Refusing to satisfy the young Pendragon with a snarky remark, he began to trudge forwards. He could have easily just flung himself back onto the vine he’d climbed from and left the ignorant idiot to face the darkness alone. But he couldn’t bare the thought of giving the druids a bad name, particularly to the one person who all of a sudden seemed to be extremely important to the future of magic, and his destiny for that matter.
“We should go,” he called behind him, smirking a little at the confusion on Arthur’s face. “They may be small, but they’re determined things. The rest of the pack will definitely be back soon.”
Following ‘John Smith’, it seemed his only likely chance of surviving the night, Arthur strode toward his side. There was quiet for a few paces. Merlin indulging in his own thoughts, knowing it would be disturbed soon by incessant questions, and Arthur- his mind revolving with questions. The first one left his lips, and it took all his might to make it sound mildly civil.
“Enlighten me, are you going to tell me your name? Or will I have to keep guessing?”
“You’re lucky you’re not dead,” he got in response; clearly ‘John’ didn’t want to comply. “the Ræ have no sympathy for lost, bumbling buffoons.”
The Ræ, Arthur assumed, were those magical hybrid mutts chasing him. Which had to mean the bumbling buffoon…
“I wasn’t lost!” he interjected, halting for a second, finger pointed in objection. “And I am not a bumbling buffoon.” he stumbled over a vibrant shrub clumsily on cue. Arthur’s pride remained apparently unharmed.
“I assure you.” His arms folded indignantly over his chest. “I have everything under control here.”
The nameless male who was slightly further ahead glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. His skin was luminous and radiant against the shimmery glow of the forest, cheekbones gloriously defined. No, Arthur Pendragon really didn’t have ‘everything under control here’. In fact, everything herehad him under control- he was sure even the prat knew that but was just too stubborn to admit it. Shrugging nonchalantly, Merlin examined the forest with contemplating eyes.
“Well,” he said with a shrewd glint in his eyes. “Seeing as you have it all under control, I supposed I should just…” his words trailed off after his body into the forest.
Anxiously, Arthur blundered after the druid, hand outstretched.
“Wait! Where are you going?” the man in front continued walking silently, jumping gracefully over a fallen branch enshrouded in twinkling moss. Arthur followed with less grace. “Why won’t you answer me?”
“Because I don’t like you and I think you’re a prat.” There it was again. That inane instinct to insult a man whose father was practically the most powerful man in the world. Arthur shook his head in disbelief at this constant defiance. He’d never known anything like it.
“If you dislike me so much then why didn’t you just let me die back there?” he asked icily, pretending he wasn’t aware of how childish he sounded.
Continuing to weave between obstacles, the druid replied in a monotonous voice, as if bored by Arthur’s presence, or perhaps the accusation against his kind.
“Contrary to what your father has you believe, we are human.”
Arthur struggled to make his way through said obstacles with the same speed and precision, especially with a chunk of his right arm chewed up and bloody – the pain had almost ceased due to numbness now. Watching the druid decrease in size ahead, the blonde huffed in annoyance.
“Will you stop walking so fast?!” he shrieked; a few birds around seemed to rouse from their tranquillity at the abrupt disturbance.
“Did you not hear a word I said? The creatures won’t rest they-”
“-Just.” Arthur wearily hauled in a gasp of air. “Slow down. Wait for me.” He was ashamed to hear his own voice- it was almost pleading.
“Thought you had everything under control-”
Any hint of desperation left Arthur’s voice faded, replaced with fury.
“Will you just shut up!”
Merlin, taken-aback by the hostility in the blonde’s voice, began to slow his pace a little. However, his attitude didn’t change one bit. Just because things he didn’t understand seemed to be at work and destiny somehow required Arthur, did not in any way mean he was going to allow the airhead to dominate him.
“Why should I? These are my forests, not yours.” He said rather immaturely.
Finally managing to catch up to the druid, walking a metre behind at most, Arthur noticed the hint of pride in the voice at that. His forests- he was giving himself way too much credit here.
“If I recall correctly, you called me a dollophead the first time we met.” His mind went back to that day in the elevator: the day when all of this madness had begun.
The pair lowered their heads a little to walk under the arch of what Arthur thought was a huge tree branch. Inspecting it closer, he realised it was in fact a root of one of the giant trees. He gaped a little whilst processing the druid’s retort.
“I can’t change the fact that you behave like one, parading around in fancy suits and silk shirts-”
Gazing down at his current, meek attire – torn and destroyed by nature – and certainly not a fancy suit or silk shirt, Arthur frowned.
“-far better than what you’re wearing John Smith.” A question that he was surprised had not entered his mind until now fell from his lips. Previously, he had been too engrossed in the druid’s insulting words. But now the motives were more of his concern.
“Why did you break into Camelot? What were you looking for?”
“I already told you, a friend. You’ve got him in the laboratory.” Arthur winced slightly at the frost in the man’s voice. Merlin narrowed his eyes, a swell of rage bubbling inside him. “How can you live with yourself, knowing what your company are doing to hundreds, thousands of druids each day?”
The truth was, Arthur didn’t know what his company were doing to hundreds – or thousands – of druids everyday. Glowering at the back of the druid’s head, he picked up on the personal jibe directed at him.
“It’s not my company-”
“-You’re the only one who can do something about it, you’ve got the power. Yet you don’t. What does that say about you?” he’d heard these words before from Morgana countless times.
Flinging a dangling vine from his face, Arthur scowled.
“We’re hardly acquainted well enough John Smith for you to be throwing accusations my way.”
The druid chuckled darkly.
“I hope we don’t become acquainted. In fact, why am I
even talking to you? Everything you stand for is vile and cruel.”
Now that was unfair. It was the allegation that so many had put forward against him since he was old enough to work in the business, even before he had anything to do with it. He remembered the first letter; it was from a druidian- he was only seven. Gaius had taken it from him and told him to not to worry. But he had worried. What if the druidian tried to find him, kill him? He stayed up all-night, crying and feeling targeted. After that, the repressed hatred of druidians came in the form of letters, spam emails, junk text messages and nightmares. Gaius had always been good at reassuring Arthur it was nothing to be discomforted with, and used to tell him that one day, he’d understand everything. Arthur wasn’t sure what Gaius had meant back then, and he still didn’t.
“The lab has nothing to do with me, it’s not my department-”
“-placing the blame on someone else,” the druid spat in disgust. “how Pendragon of you.”
He could have chosen any word, any word at all. But he had picked Pendragon, and it hurt a little inside. Fuming, Arthur strode closer to the back of the man, prepared to smack him over the head for his disrespect.
“Look you-”
Maladroitly, he bumped into the man, who had frozen in his tracks. The atmosphere had mutated into one of unease and foreboding nature. Glancing around, Arthur tried to distinguish what had caused the druid to become immobile. Suddenly, his head began to thump agonisingly. Bringing his hand to his temple, Arthur clamped shut his eyes. His body pulsated with intriguing electricity, tingly and exciting.
Do not move a muscle.
A voice echoed through his head, loud and demanding. Opening his eyes in shock, Arthur stared at the back of the man’s head in front in disbelief. H-How was this happening?
Yes.
His head received a pang of pain with the voice.
I am talking to you inside your head.
Arthur opened his mouth, ready to reply. Then he realised he could not. For some reason something had stilled the man. It was then his eyes caught the sight of the beast in front, through the bush ahead. At first he thought it was a lion, a huge lion. The golden fur and mane were synonymous to the creature that lived in his world. There was something terribly wrong with the lion though. It had…two heads. On the creature’s back, was the head of what appeared to be a goat with exaggerated horns, sharply turning and observing the surroundings with beady eyes. And its tail was that of a serpent, a thick scaly serpent with no doubt a venomous bite. The creature’s fur morphed into scales halfway along its back. Behind the goat’s head, trailing towards the serpent tail, jagged spikes stuck out of the spine. Swallowing-hard, Arthur clenched his fists tightly.
What is that?! he thought, unsure if he would be able to get his voice to the druid’s mind.
It appeared he was successful. The druid from in front was silent for a moment. Narrowing his eyes, Merlin pondered on Arthur’s words. It was almost unheard of for people to pick up this method of communication this quickly. It usually took months, years to acquire the skills needed. The blonde’s demonstration was impressive- almost.
A Chimera.
A Chimera? Of course, why wouldn’t mythological beasts be stalking the forests of Albion? It was a magical land after all. Part of Arthur shuddered, praying that there wouldn’t be a Basilisk or something similar to the gigantic snake that had haunted his childhood dreams. The druid’s voice echoed in his mind once more.
Follow my lead. Do not turn, just slowly start making your way backwards.
Backing away steadily, Arthur’s eyes were locked on the beast. It was clearly a carnivore, a lethal one at that. A small flicker of exhilaration pulsed through him, one that he had been taught to suppress since birth. In the space of a couple of hours he had seen faeries, met Ábilgest, ran away from a cat with wings, ran away from the Ræ, and now he was trying to creep away from a Chimera. What other kinds of creatures did they have here? Did they have dragons? Did prehistoric creatures-
-He bit his lip at the sound of a fallen twig crunching beneath his feet. Hopefully it hadn’t been enough to stir the best. The lion lifted its head from the ground, hungry eyes locking straight onto the pair of them predatorily. A loud roar spread through the forest, mixed with a hypnotic rattling hiss and a high-pitched shriek. The sound of the Chimera’s growl alone was enough to bring fear to Arthur.
“RUN!” The druid shouted in horror, hauling Arthur by the arm who seemed incapable of moving his limbs.
Snapping back into survival mode, Arthur sprinted beside the druid. His heart pounded against his ribcage, threatening to lunge into his mouth and bring with it a pool of unpleasant nausea. He struggled to keep up with ‘John’, feeling the sharp stab of exhaustion when gracelessly ducking under the tree root they had passed earlier. The Chimera was close behind them. Merlin thrust his hand behind him and unfocused, weak beams of light spewed behind his back desperately. The Chimera easily dodged the spells, and continued its strong pace. Losing his balance on an even pile of ground, Arthur collided into the other man, sending them sprawling off the relatively clear pathway and down into the undergrowth.
They were rolling downwards quickly gaining speed, unable to reach out and find something to stop the rapid motion. The sound of gushing water overpowered Arthur’s hearing. Vision impaired, the blonde felt the cold water pummel against him. Instead of being drowned in a body of liquid as expected, his face smacked hard against pebbles. A stream. Pain seared through his injured arm. Crying out – despite knowing they were still being hunted – Arthur winced. Two firm hands gripped his shoulders, dragging him viciously back up. There was no time to waste. Eyes glowing golden, the druid searched the area and dived towards what looked like a cave on a slightly higher altitude. Following, Arthur’s eyes sifted back into focus. No. It wasn’t a cave; it was the hollow of a humungous tree.
Pressing back against the damp wood inside, the pair panted. The sound of the Chimera seemed to be getting further away, indicating it had missed their stunt and assumed they had continued forwards. Pushing a shaky hand against his sweaty forehead, Arthur turned to the druid.
“Would now be a good time to ask for your real name?”
Catching his breath back, the raven-haired man watched the young Pendragon cautiously. Then, he flew himself back onto his feet, peering outside. Beckoning Arthur to follow, he clung onto the deep grooves within the bark.
“I’m Merlin.” He finally said with some reluctance, and Arthur felt a strange relief wash over him.
A smile tugged at his lips. Merlin. No doubt named after the Merlin bird, like his mother’s necklace around his neck. Clambering up after the druid – Merlin – he pushed his hand into the wood.
“Well, Merlin, now that we’re properly acquainted-”
Glancing back at the man, Merlin smirked.
“-I’m able to throw those accusations at you again?”
Oh. The cheek of this man. Narrowing his eyes, Arthur pursed his lips together in irritation. The relief faded.
“You think you’re funny.” He stated bluntly.
“Moderately-”
-And then there were claws and teeth and growling and a sudden panic as the beast leapt out from the forest rapidly. Merlin managed to push the Chimera down to the ground with a spell, giving Arthur a few seconds to jump across the damaged bark. The slight advantage of height seemed to be working. Without even considering Arthur’s state, Merlin began to climb the tree expertly, reaching out for one of the thick lower branches. The quicker they climbed, the safer they would be. Swallowing-hard, the blonde watched and slowly pushed himself up onto the trunk of the tree. The grip wasn’t a concern; there were plenty of nooks and grooves to hold onto. It was the raging beast below that was the problem.
“It can’t reach us if we’re in the trees.” Merlin called down, advancing to the next available branch.
But it was all too much and too overwhelming and Arthur found he couldn’t bring his stupid injured
muscles to function properly. The creature’s eyes were fixated on Arthur, now separated from Merlin – and by far the easiest target. It jumped onto its hind legs, jaw encasing one of his feet. Tightening his grip on the branch, Arthur tried to shake his leg free. This creature had a far more powerful jaw than the tiny Ræ he had encountered previously. His grip on the branch subsided within seconds of the tugging, allowing the beast to drag him lower down the tree. Refusing to be defeated this easy, Arthur’s fingers scraped against the bark, wood chipping his fingertips.
“Arthur!” a voice from above shrieked.
Arthur was unsure how, everything began to become a little bit hazy, but he was able to free his leg from the jaws of the Chimera. He was also unsure of how the hell the agile Merlin was back down at this level sooo quickly, reaching out a hand from the branch above. Immediately, he wasted no time and sunk his nails into the hand, afraid if he didn’t physically cling on that his body would let go and submit to oblivion.
“For god’s sake don’t let go!” he shouted to Merlin.
Pulling him up to the next branch with strength that Arthur was certain that lanky body couldn’t possibly have – then he remembered magic – Merlin drew his eyebrows together.
“Do you really have that little faith in me?” he asked.
Surprisingly, Arthur realised he did have faith in this man. He had saved him twice now from impending death tonight. Sparing a glance down at the Chimera who trudged back and forth in annoyance at missing its targets, Arthur sighed. At least they were safe from the beast. Nonetheless, he would not allow himself to relax until the Chimera was out of sight and he was secured safely in the trees.
“Considering you hate me and everything I stand for – yes!”
The pair climbed up a couple more branches, reaching what Arthur suspected was the lower canopy of the lush forest – where he and Leon’s team most probably should have been as opposed to the floor that was littered with danger. The ground was no longer visible; beds of leaves clouded the view. Finally, they reached a gigantic branch and nestled against it. The moonlight seeped through the forest up here, and gave enough luminosity to see comfortably in the darkness. Leaning back on the tree, eyes clamped shut, Arthur felt all the pain he had attempted to block out attack him violently. Merlin frowned, crouching over the blonde.
