Camelot Enterprise

by GR Griffin

Arthur imagined Merlin’s eyes crinkle at the corners in response to the flippant comment. The druid’s voice was full of mirth and amusement, calming Arthur’s nerves.

  I think you forgot to include the Prat that’s about to trip over that rock if he’s not careful-

  -Haha very fun– Arthur gazed down at his feet in astonishment. Merlin’s eyes were no-where near him, not even focusing on him. He quickly darted out of the way of the rock. It was no secret that if he had tripped on it, he would have fallen over the edge and after recovering from severe bruising, had to start the climb again.

  You have to show me how to do that one day! He exclaimed, unable to conceal his amazement at Merlin’s talent.

  Impressed are you?

  He glanced ahead, dumbfounded as to how he was still talking to Zelina, somehow watching Arthur and conversing with him through his mind.

  …A little. Arthur admitted sheepishly, feeling a blush dust his cheeks. He was glad Merlin wasn’t looking his way. Although he highly doubted that mattered after his display of exceptional peripheral vision. Merlin’s next words caught him totally off-guard.

  Have no fear for the task at hand today. I have faith in you Arthur – more faith in you than any of the other candidates trying to pass the test today. Just have faith in yourself.

  Halting for a second, Arthur studied the back of Merlin’s head meticulously, trying to envisage the expression painted over that enigmatic face; his cheekbones gloriously chiseled by the overcast shadows, his eyes bright and endless, his smile warming. Then the significance of such words washed over Arthur Pendragon. Merlin had faith in him – more faith in him (the outsider) than in Macelis, Truin, Jyuna and Zelina (his own kind). The reassuring words were enough to dispel the shivers threatening to plunge over his body. Instead, Arthur ploughed forwards, not retaliating to the ominous look Truin cast behind his shoulder towards him. This test was not just a test of strength and valour – Arthur should have known the depth to Merlin’s tests, the way the people worked by now. This test also revealed your character, your heart.

  The rain began to fall in small trickles at first, cascading down their skin gradually as they trekked up the mountainside. Then it became ferocious, engaging into a battalion that pelted against them, trying to steer their slippery steps off the edge, or attempting to blur their vision. Arthur noticed the look of concern stretched over Merlin’s face as they caught their breath under the rocky pass. The weather was not a factor that stopped the process – but it was not working to their advantage at all. Slowly, as his team caught their breath, Merlin studied the five students before him. A flash of lightening illuminated the area, defining each face in high contrast before fading back into a dull blur. Then the thunder roared from above menacingly, intertwined with the roars of the Wyverns; it created a truly spectacular crackle of sound.

  Leaning towards the druids, Merlin lowered his voice.

  “Remember all that you have been taught,” He muttered. “This will be one of the hardest challenges you have had to face.”

  Casting a glance behind his shoulder at the sound of the bustling creature nest, he clasped his hands together. The rain was pouring down harder now, creating white vertical lines against the cave. Vision was heavily impaired; clothes sticking tightly to their bodies. The small waterfall spewed water violently, unable to cope with the amount of rainfall. It created a fragile river that ran down the spine of the mountainside, dwindling into the abyss below. Arthur gazed down momentarily, now fully aware of how high they were and how dangerous the conditions were. This was not going to be easy. None of the training with Merlin could truly prepare him for this: fighting a Wyvern.

  Part of him was relieved that both the druid and the Dragon were expected to come out of this alive as one new body of protection to the people. The thought of accomplishing this, becoming a true Ealden warrior and flying in the sky was exhilarating. Sure, he’d been in the sky before. Sure he was terrified of flying – but that wasn’t because of the flying part itself, it was because he was relying heavily on something so mechanical. Flying on a creature, a living thing that breathed air and pumped blood through its body, was much less subjected to a crash or collision, because two conscience minds were at work. Nonetheless, he still wasn’t totally sure about how he would feel when he made it into the air – he grimaced, wiping a hand over his dripping face – if. Who’s to say he’d even make it far enough to get on a dragon?

  Arthur was too caught up in his own thoughts to hear Truin’s masculine voice echo through the group. However, he did notice the way all eyes turned to him, especially the way that Merlin seemed to have been caught in a headlock with fear itself.

  He understood, swallowing-hard.

  He had nominated by his ‘peers’ (the chauvinistic obnoxious names) to go first.

  Arthur gazed over to Merlin and met his eyes cautiously.

  For a moment, time kindly decided it didn’t want to move forwards nor backwards anymore. Instead it wavered in-between, hanging in the atmosphere. It was heavy against Arthur’s body, yet refreshingly light. Then Merlin broke the gaze and gestured towards the waterfall ahead of them. Nodding in response, Arthur walked up to the wall of water. With each step he took, he could feel his heartbeat; feel the unsteady quiver in his legs. Slowly, eyes clasped shut, he passed through the water, and the sensation of cold drenched him completely. His blonde hair (now saturated with water) was matted flat against his forehead, small beads of water dripping from the hair of his eyebrows, collecting at the edge of his nose, the tip of his chin. When Merlin had passed through, he looked similar, only the water accentuated his cheekbones delicately; small drops were collected on his earlobes.

  The rainfall was nothing but noise on each side of their exit, the stone above their heads a temporary shelter. Inhaling a shallow breath, Arthur crept towards the edge of the small pathway, leading to the extensive Wyvern nest. Despite the torrential rainfall, the Wyverns were collected in large masses all across the rocky plateau. Everything was shimmering hypnotically with water: their silvery scales, the jagged rocks- it was deceptively beautiful. Merlin placed a hand his hand on Arthur’s soaked shirt, muttering something. Instantaneously the shirt was dry, a newfound warmth radiating from it. When Arthur curiously reached his arm into the rain and found his shirt was wet but didn’t feel like it was, he gaped. Merlin received a sceptic glare.

  “You’re not supposed to use magic to help me.” He stated bluntly, sounding a little offended that Merlin thought he required help but nonetheless touched by the small gesture.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about Arthur. To say such a thing could result in both of us getting in a lot of trouble.” The druid replied in the same dull tone, studying the Wyverns from their hiding place impatiently.

  Silence. Roars. The lightening lit up the sky magnificently, followed by rumbling thunder. Shuffling awkwardly, Merlin inched closer to the edge of their narrow spot. He subconsciously placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder to pull him back as Arthur abruptly took a step forwards. Arthur remained still, even though he had the strength to wriggle out of the soft grasp.

  “Be careful.” Merlin hissed, eyes locked on the Wyverns ahead. “Time is not your ally in this test, and nor is the weather. You must act quickly.”

  Absorbing Merlin’s advice quietly, Arthur chewed his lip. Of both things, Merlin was right of course. The rain had not faltered yet. Visibility was increasingly poor, and the sound of the rain distorted the human ear’s perception of proximity and sound. The longer he was out there, the harder it was going to be to complete the test.

  “…How will I know a Wyvern has chosen me?” Arthur asked.

  A wistful smile crawled onto Merlin’s face.

  “It will try to kill you.”

  The storm raged again. Lightening flashed. The second time it flashed, Arthur was out of Merlin’s reach, steadily climbing up onto the plateau. Swiftly, the druid followed, pelted by prickly rain the moment he stepped from the shelte
r. To say Merlin felt helpless would have been an understatement. Arthur was alone now; there was nothing else he could do to aid the young man with this.

  The Wyverns were pretty unresponsive, almost apathetic towards Arthur’s entrance. As he took his first step across the nesting ground, breath ragged and heart racing, he noticed a vast majority of the creatures had retreated back from him. A few took to the sky. The pouring rain had two dismal disadvantages that Arthur could not have possibly foreseen; the scales of the Wyvern blended almost perfectly with the rocky terrain, and also the exposed plateau made it susceptible to the gusty winds forged in the storm. And with the grey clouds hovering across the sky, it was difficult to decipher what was dragon, what was sky and what was land. The further he walked through the nest, the worse his vision became. Panic swept through his system, choking him.

  He couldn’t see a thing.

  The sound of jaws snapping caused him to abruptly turn to his left. He steered his body too far to the left, the wind carelessly shoving him to the ground. Merlin lurched forwards instinctively, clearly seeing something Arthur didn’t. Arthur barely had enough time to see it himself. His eyes caught the sight of claws. Without hesitation, he leapt back onto his feet, mentally cursing the slippery surface beneath his feet. Fortunately, his first slip maneuvered him out of the way of those sharp claws and dangerously large teeth. This was it, this was the Wyvern! It had to be. The sound of wings overpowered his hearing. He turned to where the creature had been, a pang in building in his chest as he established it had flown away.

  Standing still and thinking proved to be a horrible idea. Arthur was far enough into the nest now to be ambushed by just about any dragon that decided Arthur Pendragon would make a far better meal than their future destiny. He shielded his head, narrowly missing the claws that scraped against his arms in the air. The wind stirred, scrabbling against him to tug him deeper into the lair. The first blow to his shoulder was more shock than pain. Arthur fell to the ground, groggily, water pummeling against him. The weight of the water was overwhelming, draining his body of all energy. As he opened his eyes and regained is breath, he saw those blood-red eyes looming closer. Merlin etched closer to the scene anxiously.

  “Arthur!”

  Arthur rolled to his right, scrambling up to his feet. The grogginess left at the sound of that voice. Merlin. The Wyvern landed with a thud, inches from where his face had once been. It was a large Wyvern, a little bigger than average. Its horns were fully-grown, protruding threateningly from its forehead. The Wyvern bowed it head, revealing the impressive display of coils and curls the horns bared. Arthur took a step backwards wisely, adrenaline pumping through him. The dragon had not made its intentions clear yet. It was loitering, diverting his attention from the other potential threats around.

  Until it broke the stalemate, there was no way of knowing if it was the right Wyvern.

  His question was answered as another Wyvern landed behind him.

  This one was much younger, stealthier than the first. It’s horns were mere stubs on its head. He jumped out of the way hastily, flinching at the sound of the jaw closing with extreme force. The first Wyvern launched itself onto the newcomer sadistically. Arthur cast Merlin a hesitant glance. Was it usual for Wyverns to fight over a rider? ….or were they fighting over prey? The look on Merlin’s face suggested the former. The younger Wyvern roared ominously, darting towards Arthur. It was too fast. There was no way Arthur could even comprehend dodging the attack.

  The older Wyvern appeared out of nowhere, shoving the younger one brutally – mere seconds from collision with Arthur. The younger Wyvern reluctantly hoisted itself into the air, deciding to give up on its pursuit. The older Wyvern studied Arthur for a moment. Arthur foolishly thought perhaps he had some kind of dragon-power that could stop them from attacking as he discovered the dragon was not moving. And then – as the gust of wind swept over the plateau – it was moving. It clutched Arthur by the shirt, raising him a few feet into the air. This was the Wyvern; Arthur knew it had to be because the fucking bastard was going to drop him down back onto the rocks in an attempt to smash him up. It was definitely trying to kill him.

  Clambering over the rocks, Merlin gazed up into the air, distraught. He’d seen Wyverns do this before. This Wyvern was tough- one of the toughest he’d witnessed. The creature released its grip on Arthur, dropping him back onto the ground with a loud thud. Wincing, the blonde dragged his body back up. He pretended he didn’t hear something crack. There was no time to dwell in pain; the Wyvern was already back on the ground, pouncing towards him. Arthur didn’t waste time. He ran aimlessly through the Wyvern nest. He felt the claws scrape against his shirt, causing him to duck lower. Merlin was less than a few metres behind him, close enough to be mauled and cast aside by the Wyvern chasing Arthur. He didn’t seem to care. Merlin dodged the swinging of its tail effortlessly, gazing around blindly for Arthur. The visibility was getting worse.

  “Arthur!” he yelled, voice barely resonating through the rain. “Make the bond!”

  The Wyvern bared its horns at Arthur and the man took his chances bravely. He lunged at the creature, using the horns as a means to climb onto the scaly skin. Immediately the Wyvern shook its head viciously, claws reaching to scratch off Arthur and pin him to the ground. Arthur weaved out of the way, landing on the creature’s back. Straddling it, he clutched the horns for support. The Wyvern began to buck its legs, attempting to shake the man off its back. Clinging on tightly, Arthur clamped his eyes shut. Water was stinging his skin, disabling the ability to use his sense efficiently. By the time he opened his eyes again to retain focus, he’d realised his hands had let go of the slippery horns.

  With the next aggressive motion, the Wyvern ruthlessly pushed Arthur off its back. Arthur felt his body chaotically moving, unable to stop the course of nature. The wind pushed him further. Merlin watched the scene unravel in horror, eyes wide. The fall had been so full of momentum it had shoved Arthur in a perilous direction.

  Arthur Pendragon had fallen off the cliff edge.

  “Arthur! NO!” Merlin screamed.

  This couldn’t happen, this wouldn’t happen. Damn the laws. Arthur Pendragon was not going to die here, not after everything he’d done. Resolutely, Merlin rushed forwards – fire burnishing in his eyes. The Wyvern pushed him back. It hissed intimidatingly, warning Merlin not to come any closer. It began to saunter towards the cliff edge. Merlin raised his palm, ready to conjure a spell and blow the damn thing to the edge of Albion. Yes, it would be disobeying, yes if Arthur was still alive he would not pass. If. Arthur could be dead!

  That was more than enough justification to violate the law and use magic in the test. His life was far more important than pride–

  -Don’t you fucking dare try to avenge me or do something stupid to get me eliminated, Emrys! I’m still alive.

  The voice flew through Merlin’s mind. He lowered his hand obediently, reluctantly. Hearing the voice wasn’t enough. Urgently, he searched for the source of the voice. Then he saw it: that blonde tuft of hair rising slowly from the side of the cliff edge. He had obviously climbed along the side of the cliff, because he managed to crawl back up metres from where the Wyvern was tearing apart stone. Swiftly, Arthur jumped back onto the Wyvern, taking it completely by surprise. At first the creature did nothing but stop digging, alarmed by the intrusion. Then it started to thrash wildly again, this time so close to the edge that there was no way Arthur would survive if he was thrown off this time. He had to make the bond, and fast.

  “MAKE THE BOND NOW ARTHUR.” Merlin yelled, fumbling closer anxiously, rain splashing over his face.

  Arthur had never been good at those rodeo things at parties or amusement parks, but damn – he was pretty good at this. His hands had wound themselves securely around the coiled horns, legs digging into each side of the creature for support. Every single muscle was toiling against being thrown off, fighting to stay. The bond. He had to make the bond.

  “Á Sehte.�
� He whispered, eyes flashing silver for a moment.

  Nothing seemed to happen. The creature continued its assault, shaking its body savagely. Clutching tighter, Arthur raised his voice confidently. Merlin had gone over this a hundred times with him (or more). This was the easy part.

  “Á Sehte, ælwiht!” At these words the creature seemed to still.

  Merlin smiled in relief, holding a hand to his throbbing temple. The Wyvern bowed its head, this time in a less wary manner. Any indication of violence towards Arthur ceased. In this moment, it respected the human who had overcome its defences, battled it. Albion herself seemed to be impressed with this display of courage. The rain had stopped, slits of sunlight bursting majestically through the holes in the cloud. One ray shone valiantly down upon the Wyvern and Arthur, lighting them up dramatically. Arthur allowed the burst of nervous laughter to escape his lips. He was sitting on a Wyvern, his Wyvern. Merlin met his eyes, admiration and affection seeping from his eyes. He gently steered the Wyvern towards the edge, raising his eyebrows towards Arthur.

  “You need to fly now,” he said with a proud smile. “To fully seal the bond. Go!”

  “How do I-?”

  “-Think fly!” Merlin snapped petulantly, clearly a little concerned that the bond would wear off before fully sealing.

  Fly-

  -Instantly the Wyvern spread out its wings and fell into the sky. Arthur was unable to contain the surprised yelp as the creature plummeted down, bending nauseously through the air. It weaved skillfully, spinning through the clouds. Arthur didn’t have time to process he was flying – or that he was terrified. He clung on tighter, panicking as the Wyvern deliberately smacked against the side of the mountain. It was trying to shake him off. As it did an elaborate spin in the air, Arthur gripped the horns tighter and rolled his eyes.

  “Stop being difficult and fly straight!” he barked, not expecting the creature to actually listen to him.

  All of a sudden, they were gliding elegantly. There was a balance between the air and themselves. The breeze lightly swept through his damp hair, refreshing against his skin. His Wyvern danced between the slits of sunlight, theatrical spotlights of the natural world. Hesitantly, Arthur released his grip on the horns, outstretching his arms. The dragon was floating in the air steadily, allowing him to maintain his balance. Laughter burst from his mouth, full of elation and awe. He was flying! He could see everything from up here. The forest of Ealdor, the vast landscape of Albion. It was all underneath him, magnificent and staggering. A shadow passed over their heads. Clinging back onto the horns, Arthur gazed up to see another Wyvern. It lowered beside them, revealing its happy rider; Merlin.