by GR Griffin
Without hesitation, his father had raised his palm and gestured up towards the giant beacon – a primitive but nonetheless effective means of communication for the druid clans. Apparently, even their world had used this method of signalling once upon a time, before it was consumed with crushing forests and smothering the earth’s face with unattractive concrete blocks. His father uttered a few words and the beacon burst into vivid flame.
“People of Ealdor,” Balinor said softly, voice carrying through the immaculate silence. Merlin wondered if he could ever gather a crowd’s attention in this manner. “We must stay calm. Serepolis have sent us a message, stating that Camelot Enterprise are about to break down Albion’s barrier.”
Suddenly, his voice was lost in the murmurs and gasps of the clan. Merlin took this opportunity to slip out of the crowd, making his way into the dark forests. Climbing up onto one of the trees daintily, Merlin embarked on his mission to the top of the archaic giant. Merlin was good at climbing, especially at a quick pace, he assumed it was his agile, lanky body that gave him the vantage point for this – most people just told him that his powers as Emrys must encompass more than magic; Will was the only one who was joking about that, everybody else had been deadly serious. Speaking of Will…
“Oi! You bastard!” a voice chimed from below.
Rolling his eyes, Merlin felt his lips upturn. Of course he’d have to follow Merlin out of the clan. Merlin noted to himself Will’s skills in espionage had improved; it was only two weeks ago that Merlin had caught him out in the first five seconds of sneaking.
“Will!” another voice exclaimed in mortification at the language, thumping the man in the arm forcefully.
Recognising that pure voice also, Merlin glanced down to see none other than William and Gwenevere standing at the bottom of the tree. Biting back a fond laugh, Merlin lowered himself a little, indicating that he was not going to start climbing all over again because that would just waste time. And this was something he had to see. Gwenevere adjusted the delicate silk headband before lifting her eyes to Merlin.
“Where are we going?” she asked, digging her hand into the hollow of the tree to pull herself up against the wood; her white flowing gown blew in the light breeze.
Merlin chuckled a little at the usage of ‘we’, he really should have known better than trying to get away by himself. Since his escapade to rescue Gaius, he was positive his mother had instructed Will and Gwen to vigilantly watch his every move like hawks. However, it wasn’t like that was any different to beforehand – his two best friends were naturally protective and caring, wanting to be involved with as many of Merlin’s frequent quests as possible. Sometimes Merlin appreciated his friends’ passion for adventure; sometimes he just wanted to be alone and relish in rare solitude. That was why they had come up with ‘the Lake agreement’; if Merlin was ever seen to be heading to the lake, it gestured he wanted time to himself.
Not wanting to miss the spectacle about to take place, Merlin began climbing again at a faster pace, diminishing in size to the pair below by the second.
“This is one of the tallest trees in Albion.” He called back simply, as if that explained everything and his actions.
Exchanging a confused glance with Gwenevere, Will also began his climb up the tree. Neither Gwen or Will were exceptional climbers, and it would no doubt take them twice as long to reach the top of the tree than it would for Merlin. The fact that this was one of the tallest trees in Albion made Will huff irately. He struggled to understand how Merlin enjoyed this tiresome, boring activity. Another unfamiliar buzzing echoed throughout the night, which was eerily quiet. It was unusual not to hear the birds singing, the nocturnal beasts howling or even some aspect of life. It was only now it dawned that there was not a single sound in all of Ealdor. They could sense something was changing too, Merlin figured.
“I hate you!” William’s voice rang through the still forest. “Stupid tree-hugger.”
Sparing a glance over his shoulder, Merlin watched the pair still pathetically climbing the lower segment of the ginormous tree. It was going to take them until dawn at this rate. A raw laugh tore from his lips, teeth exposed in a grin; perhaps some encouragement would aid them.
“Come on…you’re almost there.” Merlin shouted down teasingly, chuckling once more as his magic sensed Gwen sighing, clearly apathetic with his sarcastic comment.
Hauling himself onto a sturdy branch at the very top of the tree, Merlin glanced out into the sight around. Many of the trees had reached their peak significantly lower, allowing this particular tree to have a fantastic panoramic view of a vast majority of Albion. Clinging to the trunk, he bravely stretched a hand out, caressing the wind that gently shook the lighter branch his arm was entangled in. The view up here was unparalleled in beauty. From here, Merlin was able to distinguish the burning beacons across Albion; some faint enough to be small specs, others glowing on the horizon, and a few much closer. This staggering view of these masses of fire, lighting up parts of the landscape was truly breath-taking – and then the reasoning for all of this clouded the magnificence.
The Albion barrier was about to disintegrate, broken down by magic extracted from tortured druids, wreck souls, missing brothers and sisters. All of this extracted magic was meshed into a large exploitation of druid powers, and used against their sacred world through brute force and crazed obsession. Studying the night sky sprayed with an array of stars, Merlin frowned. The barrier was one of the oldest parts of Albion. The æmryš spoke of its creation…it was almost as old as human civilisation. It was forged by a powerful collection of druids: The Naiimen. These three sorcerers had weaved together their ancient expertise, wielding a great shield for the land in hope that the future druids would be able to build their settlement here without fear or exile.
Now it was about to be destroyed.
Though, there was a story – a folklore tale of some kind – that Merlin had once been told by his optimistic mother. The Naiimen spell had been inscribed on a rock, deep in the forests of Albion. It would take another three sorcerers of similar decree and power to re-cast the sacred spell. But in order to even find the location of the rock, their true virtue and intentions would have be tested through time and fate. Merlin brushed aside this old tale gently, druid folklore was always fascinating, but really was full of nonsense at times. How anybody could match up to the Naiimen and conjure such a complex spell was beyond him; druids liked to be pleasantly hopeful.
The buzzing sound had grown louder and more intense during the past ten minutes. Merlin clung tighter to the tips of the tree, grateful that the evening was relatively cloudless one. At their altitude, a cloudy night would have hindered his view of this event. The sound of panting and long inhaled breaths entered his ears, finally. Averting his eyes for a moment, Merlin reached a hand downwards to Gwenevere. Smiling in relief at the help, she clutched his hand as he pulled her up onto the branch. William was adamant on doing this by himself, stubbornly and clumsily hurling himself a number of times at the final hurdle. Eyes crinkled a little in amusement, Merlin glanced over at his friend and outstretched a hand.
Reluctantly, Will took the offer, and perched himself next to Merlin on the top of the tree. Leaning forwards curiously, Gwen examined the horizon in exhilaration.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before.” She exclaimed rather breathlessly; whether this was from the epic climb or general awe was unknown. Merlin cautiously rested a hand on her waist for support, fully aware that she was less secure on the branch than he.
Will gaped a little, not wanting to show too much satisfaction at the sight. Sharing a look with Merlin, he nodded appreciatively.
“Merl knows all the hot spots of Ealdor.” He said.
“You’ll have to show us more of them rather than keeping them all to yourself!” Gwen smiled easily, squeezing Merlin’s hip in a juvenile manner.
Pouting at her, Merlin met her playful eyes unable to resist replying light-heartedly.
Will scoffed into the distance, eyes meeting the alluring night sky, the woman on Merlin’s other side shot him a pseudo-glare, before allowing humour to metamorphose into the imminent severity. She had heard Balinor’s words; they all had. Camelot Enterprise was approaching. Coming from that world herself, spending twenty-two years of her life there, she was fully aware of what Uther Pendragon was capable of. The prejudice displayed against druids on a daily basis was a primary concern for her. In the four years she had lived here, Albion had become her whole life – there was no life before Albion, before the druids, before Merlin and Will and Ealdor. She wasn’t going to let anyone take away her family, her friends.
Noticing Gwen’s fierce expression, Merlin linked their fingers together loosely, earning a weak smile from his friend. He didn’t want his friends to be scared, fearful for whatever was to come. He had seen through the Crystals the future of Albion all through a confusing spectrum of blurred images, distorted voices and deformed pictures; the memory of this bewildering experience was enough to scare himself. Plastering confidence over himself lightly, he turned to a curiously silent Will, then back to Gwen.
“Hey,” he cooed to the pair lost in thought. “we’ll be okay. Think of all that Albion has overcome before. All those dreadful wars in the Frenhart Dynasty, all of our suffering when there were-”
“-gee thanks Merlin, you’re really making me feel better about this.” Will muttered flippantly, bringing his own hands together tightly in irritation.
“-I haven’t finished yet William.” Merlin replied calmly, the apparent wisdom he retained inside trickled out slowly. “We- the druids have faced a lot, we’ve always managed to win over war and hate with peace and clemency.”
Admiring the sky, Merlin’s eyes lit up with remorse. He had seen their world, the bleakness of their lives; their aggressive nature towards magic. It should have repulsed him. Yet all he had were his father’s words, and a twinge of sadness.
“Remember these people come not for us, but to save their dying world.”
His friends stirred a little beside him, uneasy.
“If that’s sympathy I detect for them Merlin, then don’t waste your breath. We had many chances to change our ways, alter our future.” Gwen whispered poignantly, eyes watery.
Squeezing her hand, Merlin grimaced. Beside him, Will attempted a different approach at consoling their minds.
“He’s Emrys- the most powerful wizard of all time.” He boasted, patting his friend proudly on the shoulder. “We have nothing to worry about Gwen, the moment they realise what Emrys can do - they’ll run back to their world.”
Or they’ll try and kidnap me to take my magic Merlin thought to himself, making sure he blocked his mind from their telepathic waves. A few months ago, Merlin would have smirked at Will’s immature comment, pretending that Emrys was his estranged twin. A few weeks ago, Merlin would have rolled his eyes, still in blatant denial of his destiny, and too busy stewing over the events of the lab to fully process anything else. But now, standing on the tallest tree in Ealdor, awaiting the barrier to decease, Merlin’s magic was being a painful realist about the situation. Now more than ever people were going to look up to him, try and find some element of safety from him. He had to lead by example.
Emrys was the central beacon, the pivotal force that was supposed to protect and unite the land once again in a time of great need. Merlin just prayed that this was not the time. He wasn’t ready for any of this. He wasn’t ready to accept that Arthur Pendragon was somehow entwined in his destiny either. The notion that their paths would collide soon made him a little queasy.
Merlin was broken out of his pensive state at the blinding light that flashed through the sky. A foreign sound reverberated, and the barrier in all its greatness suddenly became very visible. It was more radiant and spectacular than he had ever dreamt. The void of spewing colours, connected in a fashion resembling skilled crafting of silk woven together. The colours were slowly fading into a bizarre crackling sound, vast amounts of the barrier becoming transparent. What lay on the other side of the barrier emanated curiosity, fear and shock across the whole of Albion, Merlin’s magic felt the extent of these shared emotions. There was an enormous vessel, with artificial wings and body built from some kind of alloy, aiming a white beam of light at the barrier: concentrated magic.
“What is that thing?” he asked in confusion, unable to recall what Gaius had called these large man-made machines. They had so many different names for their creations.
Quickly glancing over at Merlin, Gwen bit her lip.
“It’s a plane.” Her tone suggested she was hiding something, but Merlin was too enraptured by the sight to coax it out of her.
The ‘plane’ was a vast machine, which no doubt carried a substantial amount of people. It had two strong wings, like a bird. It was painted black, almost invisible to the non-magic eye against the night sky. And it was the source of that deafening buzzing. Behind it, were lots of other ‘planes’. But these ones were smaller and were also attacking the shield with the rays. The barrier began to crackle louder, dissipating under the intensity of the assault. Once the first hole had been made in the barrier, it seemed the rest of it was instantly weakened. Merlin could only watch with wide eyes as the barrier across the whole of Albion crumbled into oblivion. The planes hesitantly poked their noses forwards into the new world. Once it was established they were able to pass, the large group descended a little, almost to the altitude Merlin, Gwen and Will were on the top of the tree.
“GET DOWN!” Merlin cried in horror, pushing his friends down into the shelter of the tree that began to shake violently.
The three friends clung to each other desperately, feeling their clothing rattle against their skin; a deep penetrating buzz soared through their ear drums. Slamming his eyes shut, Merlin gripped onto the tree trunk harder, heart racing. Who knew what would happen if they let go, would they be sucked into the machines’ strange core? After an intense minute of blaring sound, violent shaking and confusion, the sound of the planes faded into the distance. Merlin was the first to open his eyes, leaping urgently into action. Jumping back onto the tips of the giant tree, his eyes wavered over the planes that seemed to be descending in a large clearing to the left of Serepolis; also to the North of Ealdor.
Turning to Will, who was staring blankly at the landing site, Merlin exhaled deeply. Gwenevere beside him mirrored his actions, shoulders slumping a little in exhaustion, overwhelmed by this experience.
“I can’t believe they actually broke the barrier.” Will breathed quietly, meeting eyes with an engrossed Gwen.
“Well, they’ve been harbouring a lot of magic,” Merlin replied slowly, eyes locked on the black metallic machines in the far distance, mere specs – but still alarmingly close compared to wherever else in Albion they could have landed. He half expected his magic to throb from the presence of Arthur Pendragon. That’s when Merlin realised – rather bewildered – he could sense no Pendragon here at all. His magic wretched unpleasantly – but she was here, he knew that much.
Merlin.
The voice of his father’s resonated through his head sharply.
Yes father.
“Do you think more of them will come?” Will asked, voice laced in disgust.
Feigning composure, Merlin skewed his lips together. His father’s voice echoed in his head.
Meet me by the Lake.
For reasons he couldn’t understand, Merlin felt a rush of excitement pulsate through him. He knew his father and his subliminal messages, this one inevitably meant: we’re going to go and spy on the new arrivals.
“We should go back to Ealdor,” he began, lowering himself onto the branch below. “they’re not going to be of any concern for a while.”
Obediently, Gwenevere followed Merlin, eyes casting once more over to the planes. Will stared up at the unveiled sky, reminiscing t
he sight of the barrier. Then he too began to follow Merlin quietly down the tree and back to Ealdor.
Nobody said a word on the walk back.
♦☼♦
“I sensed her.” Merlin muttered in a small whisper beside his father who remained silent.
The pair of them were sitting on a branch from one of the tall trees surrounding the clearing. The obscurity of the night gave them the advantage of remaining concealed and disregarded. There was a large building made of stone, far larger than any druid temple or home. The plan had landed in the tarmacked area outside the base but still inside the protection of the towering black gates. Swallowing-hard, Merlin studied the blonde woman with narrowed eyes. She was dressed in casual wear from the other world, the large, piercing eyes savagely striking down anyone who dared look her in the eye. From the plane large boxes were being unloaded, full of unknown items and objects. They appeared to be of great importance, because the people carrying them were loaded with all sorts of peculiar weapons and devices.
“And I.” Balinor eventually sighed, running a hand down his beard pensively. “Her evil is difficult to overlook.”
Part of Merlin desperately prayed Gaius would suddenly appear from the plane. A dull ache grew in his chest as he watched the people leave the plane, none of them were Gaius. But then again, he thought curiously. There was no sign of the young Pendragon, Arthur, or his father for that matter. Turning to Balinor, eyes twinkling pensively, he frowned.
“Why do you think Uther and Arthur aren’t here yet?” he failed to resonate his concerns about Gaius, a sore swell of upset expanding in his throat.
“Morgause knows the most about Albion.” Balinor concluded with a neutral expression, his face resembled hard, granite stone. “They’ve probably sent her to test the ground, make sure it’s safe for them to arrive.”