Camelot Enterprise

by GR Griffin

  “-almost there.” Arthur wheezed weakly, feeling the pressure on his lungs, the heat searing over his skin.

  “We can continue tomorrow, it won’t make the quest any less impressive-”

  “No time-”

  “-So you’d rather continue and die of hyperthermia?” Merlin snapped back petulantly, desperately searching around for some kind refuge.

  Snorting, the blonde’s unfocused eyes glanced over to where he assumed Merlin was standing. He held a hand out almost drunkenly, unaware that where he was focusing his attention was in fact nowhere near the real Merlin.

  “Don’t pretend that you actually care about me-” stumbling, Arthur felt his body lose balance. He collapsed against the hot sand, face pressed into it. Firm hands instantly hauled him onto his back. Then it all faded into black, the rapid erratic heartbeat in his chest was the last thing he felt.

  ♦☼♦

  As nice as waking up to Merlin’s blinding grin hovering mere inches from his face was, Arthur found himself startled by the proximity and totally disorientated. The face above him sifted in and out of focus confusingly, adding to his nausea. Fumbling backward, he groaned at the collision with the stone behind him. Merlin’s smile instantaneously faded as he cupped the back of Arthur’s head gently. The touch was incredibly soothing, calming the panic that threatened to swathe over the fevered blonde. It took a few moments of deep breaths and intense concentration to bring his eyes to Merlin’s face. The druid offered him a small smile before averting his eyes elsewhere.

  Only now, still dizzy and body searing hot, that Arthur established he couldn’t feel the rays of the sun grating down on him. Glancing up, he winced as he did so, he studied the small crimson cavern, comfortably large enough for four or five people. Despite being sheltered from the sun, the cave was still hot, alarmingly hot. Squirming, Arthur shut his eyes, inhaling rapidly.

  “Shhhh.” Merlin cooed, placing a hand to the man’s brow. “Easy,”

  His touch was ice cold, spreading pleasantly all over his body. Arthur presumed it was magic. Right now, he was too exasperated to care about what his father would think about this, or what he thought of this.

  “M-magic.” He muttered, fully aware of the unashamed fear and curiosity resonating through his voice; he was too weak to put up his emotional barrier, least of all to this druid.

  Arthur heard Merlin chuckle beside him, removing his hand from his forehead promptly. If Arthur tried to fumble his way clumsily back into the touch, desperate for more of the tingling, cold sensation, Merlin made no gesture to show he noticed.

  “Magic isn’t evil Arthur, nor are the druids,” the druid whispered tenderly, as if lulling Arthur Pendragon to sleep with a bedtime story. “Your kind should evaluate how a druid uses their magic, never just that they do use it.”

  Arthur, feeling his body succumb to the realm of subconscious thoughts and dreams, hummed. Whether this was in agreement, or acknowledgement of the words, Merlin didn’t know. He prayed it was agreement, even if all logic told him it was merely acknowledgement only. Arthur Pendragon was his destiny, which somehow had to mean this prat was going to accept magic one day.

  Sighing, Merlin feebly brushed a hand through the blonde curls, casting his eyes out towards the desert. . They’d have to make a move in half a day’s time, or else the quest would be pointless and futile. The Elders had made clear their terms of the quest, making it unusually difficult, and seemingly impossible to pass. Merlin knew one thing, if Arthur didn’t recover soon, they’d have no chance in completing the quest. Placing his hand back onto the blonde’s forehead, he shuddered. If he had to sit up awake the whole time and magically regulate his body temperature, then so be it.

  So long as the prat never knew anything about this demonstration of concern, or care, it was fine.

  ♦☼♦

  Arthur finally awoke, seemingly fully restored to health, about eight hours later. During those boring, dull eight hours, Merlin hadn’t slept a wink, concentrating his magic on the young Pendragon the whole time to ensure a swift recovery. Not that he’d admit that to the prat, of course. Heaven knows what kind of teasing the young Pendragon would pursue if he found out. However, he was certain if he continued to feel as exhausted as he did now, the blonde would surely notice and suspect something. That was just not an option. The quest had to be completed, for the sake of the crystals, destiny, Arthur- Raking a hand through his raven hair, Merlin shot him a genuine smile, one that took Arthur by complete and utter surprise.

  “Feeling better now?” Merlin asked politely – politely of all things, ignoring the way every single inch of his body throbbed with fatigue when he stood up.

  Arthur inhaled a breath of fresh air with a small smile. Relieved, he was relieved that the horrible heatstroke that had plagued his body was gone. His body felt well-rested and- narrowing his eyes, he glanced over to Merlin. He had passed out, meaning there was no way of knowing exactly how-

  “Exactly how long have we been here?”

  Shrugging, Merlin counted the hours on his fingers, more for his own amusement.

  “Around eight hours-”

  Eyes widening, Arthur quickly got to his feet, urgency sprawled clumsily over his features. Merlin frowned, detecting the layer of anger riming beneath the blonde’s skin. They were still well within the given time limit to complete the quest, Arthur needed to stop worrying.

  “-Eight hours?!” he exclaimed in horror, slinging the satchel around his shoulders. “Merlin, we didn’t have eight hours to waste-”

  “-It wasn’t a waste, you needed to rest or you would’ve died you giant, condescending pratface!”

  “Not for eight hours!” groaning, Arthur held a hand to his face, slowly drawing it down from the bridge of his nose to his chin, skin stretching beneath the movement. This was unbelievable. They could have been at the castle by now!

  “How could you be so careless!“

  Now it was Merlin’s time to get angry because careless? How on earth was nursing Arthur back to health with his magic and depriving himself from sleep being careless? He had been far from careless; especially considering this brat was the son of Uther Pendragon! Confusion pelted him across his face. How was this man his destiny? Why? He hadn’t proven himself to be anything special, or different from his father.

  “Maybe you were right, about what you said earlier.” Merlin said, annoyance and lethargy stripping him of his poise and delicacy. But then again, this man had proved he had the ability to sculpt Merlin’s tongue into a precarious sword, blithely slicing through vowels and sharpening consonants to give his overall dialogue a bitter edge. Making his way towards the exit of the cave, he cast Arthur a scowl. A sour laugh escaped his lips.

  “Who are you supposed to be to me anyway?” Arthur wasn’t really sure what to say to that, mainly because the question seemed more rhetorical in nature, addressed to himself. Holding a hand to his head, Merlin sighed. Perhaps the Crystals were wrong, perhaps it was all wrong, the visions, the prophecy….

  “You’ve condemned Gaius and so many other innocent druids to their deaths-”

  Without thought, Arthur strode out into the blaring heat of the Perilous Lands, marching forwards. He didn’t have time for this shit; he’d had enough of this constant blame and stereotyping of his character back home. Morgana had dealt him a fair portion of this for years. Though she had refrained from doing so now, the memories of her words still stung. Humiliation swathed over him, to think he’d hoped Merlin of all people would have looked beyond what he was, what his father was…it was stupid.

  Why would Merlin see him differently? Why would he understand? Merlin was a druid. Arthur most definitely wasn’t a druid. Merlin was from Albion. Arthur most definitely wasn’t from Albion. They couldn’t have been more different, more contrasting. But Arthur wasn’t his father. His views on magic were hazy, a little unclear yes, but that didn’t mean he automatically despised the notion of it and those who used it. There were so many thin
gs that Merlin didn’t understand, so many things he was neglecting to take into consideration when judging his character. For starters, he had been indoctrinated his whole life to believe magic was evil, and the druids were a threat to society.

  Then again, there were things he too had not taken into consideration when making a judgement on Merlin. Merlin and his family had lived in this peaceful heaven their entire lives. Their principles were different, their culture heavily clashed with his own. And now, abruptly these two cultures had been placed together. Now Merlin and himself were placed together,completing an impossible quest. It would be foolish to suggest that there wouldn’t be disagreements or arguments.

  Only Arthur didn’t understand why the accusations hurt so much, coming from Merlin. Was it because for the first time he was hearing the other side of the story? Was it because Merlin represented a whole new perspective, one he’d never thought about before? Never, really had he taken a step back and thought about all of this. The druids, the labs, extraction, theAlbion Project, the secret agenda- it all made him feel queasy and overwhelmed-

  “-Arthur!” that voice broke him out of his intense thoughts. Spinning around viciously, he met those sapphire eyes, flickering with an unidentifiable emotion.

  “What?”

  The druid pointed over towards the rocky horizon, and Arthur established what the emotion was- amusement.

  “You’re going the wrong way.”

  Chapter 16

  The pair walked in silence from then, both indulging in their own clandestine troubles. Whilst Merlin was stirring over what he had seen in the Crystals, Arthur dwelled on the secret agenda his father had given him. Both wore similar expressions of distress, both distrait with their thoughts. To say they were both astonished to find each other looking strangely similar would have been an understatement. Nonetheless, neither pried at the other’s troubles. Instead, they continued walking until they reached the rocky horizon, attempting to dismiss the thought that they might have something in common. Arthur scoffed at the thought; Merlin twisted his lips together.

  And then raw awe and wonder swathed over their faces.

  There it was.

  The tall tower, the only remnant of a great and mighty stone structure, resembled an elaborate chess piece in Arthur’s eyes. It was bold and beautifully sculpted, towering spikes rose at the top corners of its crown. Its slender body fanned out at the base, a sturdy chunk of grey stone contrasting against the red, arid soil of the Perilous lands. Against the flat terrain, it stood majestically, full of grandeur. Part of Arthur wondered why the druids had not taken to constructing other magnificent castles; Ealdor was particularly modest with its man-made structures.

  “There it is!” he exclaimed in relief, breaking into a run.

  He was abruptly pulled back by Merlin, back thumping against the hard rock. The druid looking at him as if he were insane. Narrowing his eyes, he thumped Arthur in the arm to restate his point.

  “-you can’t just charge up to the castle!” Merlin shrieked, eyes wide in horror. Detecting the scolding, Arthur threw his head back against the stone, grinning.

  “Let me guess,” he spat, sarcasm dripping from each syllable. “The Manticore.”

  Merlin’s severity met Arthur’s sarcasm in a brutal collision, exploding in front of their faces chaotically. Swallowing-hard, Merlin chose not to retaliate to the immature statement, peering round the stone they were hidden behind to gaze down at the castle. Manticores were fast creatures, with exceptional senses. If they were going to somehow sneak around it, they’d have to make themselves scare earlier on. Running towards the castle was a highly idiotic and suicidal thing to do. Unimpressed by the silent treatment he was receiving, Arthur groaned.

  “What do you suggest then? Once we step out behind this rock, there’s nowhere to hide. It’s just literally us, the land and the castle…oh!” feigning shock he pressed a hand against his forehead. “and the Manticore.”

  “I can cast an invisibility spell,” Merlin muttered, more to himself than to Arthur beside him. For a moment he stirred over the idea. Then he turned to the blonde animatedly, holding out his hand.

  “But it will only work if you keep quiet and hold my hand.”

  Blinking slowly, Arthur gazed down at the outstretched hand, then back up at Merlin’s serious expression. Scoffing, he brushed the hand away.

  “Merlin, I’m flattered, really I am-“

  “-Stop being such an arrogant ass.” Merlin snapped back angrily. “For the spell to work on both of us, we need to have some kind of physical contact-“

  “-Why does it have to be holding hands?” Arthur indignantly cried, clearly disgusted at the concept.

  “-It doesn’t-”

  “-Then why did you say-” Rolling his eyes, Merlin sighed, exasperated. Now Merlin was sure the prat was arguing just for the sake of arguing.

  “-I’m about to cast the spell. So unless you want to die-“

  Reaching for Merlin’s arm, Arthur wove his fingers around the delicate, pale wrist.

  “-I’ll hold your wrist instead then.”

  “-Fine! I honestly couldn’t care less Arthur, just keep quiet.”

  ♦☼♦

  I thought you weren’t going to hold my hand? Merlin’s voice reverberated through Arthur’s mind, voice full of humour. Gazing down at their intertwined hands, Arthur rolled his eyes.

  Well, you’ve got an irritating wrist.

  It was totally true. Just a few moments of walking together, that bony wrist had failed to co-operate with Arthur’s hand. Smiling a little, Merlin cast Arthur a glance, steering them down the rocky hill towards the tower. Part of him was still impressed that Arthur had grasped the ability to talk through his mind so effortlessly, the other part completely engrossed with arguing with him.

  Is there anything you don’t complain about?

  Eyes scanning over the tower that was getting closer by the second, Arthur felt a swell of relief. They were so close. Now all they had to do was find the Trident and get back to Ealdor. He felt Merlin’s mind nudge him touchily, so he replied in the same manner.

  Yes actually. My paycheck.

  He could literally feel Merlin’s agitation and bewilderment at this statement. Narrowing his eyes, the druid shot Arthur a sceptical look. Surely he was joking.

  Money is the route of all evil.

  To you lot maybe but to us…it can bring great prosperity and happiness.

  Merlin rolled is eyes elaborately, he’d never heard anything so stupid in his life.

  A bit of paper with a face on it holds the key to prosperity and happiness? Please.

  For a moment Arthur ignored the retort, studying the enchanting architecture of the tower, how every single brick seemed to be engraved daintily. It truly was an impressive display of historical beauty.

  Well, Arthur began, eyes never leaving the tower. It’s better than being a tree-hugging hippie, high on magic, spending their time restoring the balance of nature.

  Merlin cast him a dubious glance.

  If you dislike us so much, why are you even doing this quest?

  This was the downside to speaking through minds; it made it difficult to process your sentences before thinking them. Thus, conversations through the mind were far more honest and abrupt at times. Nonetheless, Arthur had barricaded away the secrets meticulously. There was no way he was going to give anything away to Merlin, and destroy any chance he had at building some kind of diplomatic relationship between their two cultures.

  I wouldn’t expect you to understand M- what is that?

  Eyes wide, Arthur subconsciously clutched Merlin’s hand tighter at the sight of the foul beast. The creature had the pronounced body of a lion; only its fur was crimson, blood-red and shimmering with beads of sweat in the blazing heat. Its tail was that of a scorpion’s, thin and flexible. The tail weaved around expertly behind the Manticore, its stinger the size of a human hand. Merlin dragged Arthur along, holding a hand to his lips urgently.r />
  Do not make a sound. We need to walk past it. If it helps keep talking to me in your head.

  Swallowing-hard, Arthur studied the creature. He assumed that its sheer size, the scorpion tail or the claws would have frightened him the most. But it wasn’t any of these formidable features that attributed to the terrifying nature of it. It was the face. The creature had three rows of jagged teeth, all scintillating in the rays of the sun like polished daggers. Yet that wasn’t what scared him. The large, yellow eyes with red pupils weren’t so much the problem either. Scrutinising the face, brushed over with red hair and dark whiskers, there were remnants of something vaguely familiar lurking amongst it.

  That’s the most hideous creature I think I’ve ever seen. Look at it’s face- it almost looks like a man.

  Traces of eyebrows morphed into the red fur, the nose a little too defined and sculpted for that of an animal’s. But those alarmingly human ears were hard to miss. Merlin’s words obliged Arthur to give into his repulsion.

  It was a man…once.

  Arthur smacked a hand over his mouth to muffle his gasp. Now knowing this horrible fact, it was hard to look at that face and not see the echo of a human being. Everything about the creature was horribly poignant and haunting. Some small physical features of the human still remained. However, any trace of a human soul was gone, devoured by this demonic creature. The longer he stared at the Manticore, the worse it became. No. There was no way that was once a human being. Turning to Merlin, he frowned incredulously.

  “You’re kidding, right?” he didn’t realise his mistake until the strange bugle-like roar echoed around them. The sound caught both Merlin and the Manticore off-guard. In a flash the invisibility spell dissolved into nothingness, revealing the two men. Horrified, Merlin tugged Arthur forwards by his hand, breaking into a frantic run. Arthur didn’t hesitate to join him.

  “You idiot!” he shrieked as they entered the perimeter of the tower.

  The tower revealed that it was more complex than first imagined. The internal structure was magnificent. Alongside the principal tower, many smaller columns of stone had been built. Arthur and Merlin exchanged horrified glances as they entered the small courtyard. The Manticore was running after them, its peculiar roar reverberating through the air. Ahead of them was the entrance to one of the towering staircases. Without hesitation the pair of them began to make their way up one of the smaller towers. Adrenaline pumped through their veins, pushing them further up each step. The Manticore clearly struggled with the steps, but pursued them far too quickly for their liking.