Written Destinies (Arthur Pendragon)

The Beginning of the End 1: The Druid Boy

Merlin's POV:

            The rays of the rising sun streamed into my window, waking me for the busy day ahead. All my days were busy now. Ever since arriving in Camelot, there has been no time for rest. There was always something to be done and it was always me who had to do it. Perks of being the Prince's servant I guess. Whether it was dressing the prince, cleaning his armor, shining his boots, or saddling his horse. Whatever it was, it was always me doing it. Today the task was to sharpen his sword. So here I was, making my way towards the armory. That is, until, the softest voice stopped me in my tracks. The voice of a little boy, to be exact.

"Help," it pleaded. I looked around, searching for the source of the tired voice. Yet there was no one around. I continued searching, the voice growing louder whenever I drew near. "Help me...."

            I made it all the way to the castle courtyard.  Servants and knights walked about the stone square. All of them hustled to do whatever it was that needed to be done. I searched the busy crowd. My eyes spotted the well in the corner. Huddled next to it sat a boy. His blue eyes stared right at me.

"Please," He begged. Yet his mouth did not move, it remained in a straight line. He had magic. It was the only way to explain it. He called to me in his mind. "Please, you have to help me."

            The sound of pounding footsteps filled the courtyard, a group of knights running in. They scanned the grounds, searching. I knew what they were looking for. Or rather who they were looking for. So when they were facing away, I ran to one of the side entrances of the castle, ushering for the boy to follow.

"This way," I spoke back.  I watched as a look of relief overcame the boy's face, washing away the fear that was once there. He rose from his crotched position by the well and ran over. I took his small hand in mine and without even glancing back I took off into the castle. I entered one of the chamber rooms, closing the door swiftly behind me. 

"Have you forgotten how to knock, Merlin," Morgana asked. I sighed, realizing that it was Morgana's chambers that I had entered. Gwen also stood in the room, her gaze fixed on me. 

"The guards are after him," I stated breathlessly. Morgana and Gwen both focused on the boy, their surprised faces softening. "I didn't know what to do."

            A loud pounding filled the room, the wooden door shaking with each knock. I watched as Morgana struggled to decide what to do, her eyes focusing on the small boy. I watched as a look of pity passed over her face, her head whipping around the room until landing on the back of her room, where there was a curtain she could change behind.

"In there," she instructed. I smiled thankfully towards her, taking the boy again by the hand and guiding him to the back of the room. I drew the curtains closed, concealing us from the door. The boy huddled against me, breathing hard. When I looked down at him I was concerned to find him pale in the face.

"Sorry to disturb you, my lady," a guard spoke. I suppressed a gasp as the boy fell back into me, his eyes rolling back. "We're searching for a young druid boy. We believe he came this way."

"I haven't seen anyone," Morgana replied back. "It's just me and my maid."

"Best keep the door locked till we find him," The guard suggested.

"Of course. Thank you," Morgana replied, closing the door.  I breathed a sigh of relief. Yet that relief is short-lived when my hand grazes the boy's side, becoming drenched in a sticky substance. The curtains are thrown open, revealing a concerned Morgana and Gwen, both of their eyes falling on the half-conscious boy in my arms. We all shared a look of worry, all wondering what we should do.

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Elizabeth's POV:

            What makes a man guilty? What makes a man worthy of death? These are questions I asked myself as I stood on the palace balcony overlooking the courtyard. There, in the center of the crowd of people stood a large wooden platform. On it, a middle-aged man with a look of fear on his face. A wooden block was placed in front of him, dried blood staining its surface. Standing beside him, the executioner, with his axe held over his shoulder. The very axe that would soon take the man's life. What got this man in this position? Magic. The very thing I possess myself. The very thing that could put me in the same position if Uther was to find out. Arthur stood beside me, his hand interlacing with mine when he sensed my discomfort.

"People of Camelot, the man before you is guilty of using enchantments and magic," Uther bellowed. His booming voice silences the crowd. All turning to face him. "Under our law, the sentence for this crime is death."

            My body stiffens at that word. A chill runs down my spine at the thought of me standing there instead of the man. Just the thought of it sends a chill down my spine. Arthur gently squeezes my hand, brushing his thumb gently on the back of it, calming my nerves.

"We are still searching for his accomplice," Uther continued. "Anyone found harboring the boy is guilty of conspiracy and will be executed as a traitor."

"Let this serve as a warning to your people," spoke the man standing on the platform. "You have let your fear of magic turn to hate. I pity you."

            I watched as Uther's arm raised in the air, signaling for the executioner to begin. The man is forced to his knees, his head resting against the wooden block. I watched as the executioner raised his axe high above his head.

"I can't watch this," I whispered, turning to face Arthur. When his eyes meet mine his serious face softens. He pulls me close, placing my head against his chest. 

"Close your eyes," He whispers. I do as I'm told, blocking my vision of the courtyard below.  I hear the sickening sound of the axe making contact with the wooden block, causing my body to jump, a whimper escaping my lips. 

"It's okay," Arthur whispered in my ear. His voice so soft that only I could hear. I look up at him, tears escaping my eyes.

"No, it's not," I whispered back. I felt Arthur's body stiffen against mine before he pulled me against his chest once more. Rubbing comforting circles on my back as I fought back tears.