AN: So it's been a while since I updated this, but I'm back and I hope you enjoy. Thank you so much for the reviews last chapter, it means a lot.

Arthur has arrived!

Killen and Merlin watched as Candia hurried from the room, and then Merlin let out a deep sigh.

"So, it has begun," Merlin shook his head. "I suppose I should be thrilled, but something is just... Wrong."

"Yeah, she doesn't know about magic!" Killen gasped. "That must be wrong!"

"We may be able to blame the sleeping draughts, but beyond that, something is just putting me on edge. Can you not feel it, Killen? Something is wrong."

"Well, I'm not the most powerful warlock ever born," Killen grinned easily. "Though there is that other part of the legend... I've told you before, though, Candia is one of the nicest people I've ever met!"

"People cannot outrun their destiny," Merlin sighed slightly, standing from the bed. "But we should give her some time to calm and discover some things before we find her. I think it's best you be the one to approach her. I don't think she likes me much at the moment."

"Yeah, besides, shouldn't you go look for Arthur?" Merlin asked. "Where do you think he is anyway? On the island?"

"Could be. He could be anywhere, really. Do you feel alright being left alone right now?"

"Of course!" Killen laughed.

"Alright, I'm going to look for Arthur. Give your friend some time to cool off, but not too long. No one can outrun their destiny, but we can do all that we can to edge things in our direction."

"I'll go find her soon; now you should look for Arthur! I can't wait to meet the prat," Killen grinned.

Merlin nodded, slipping out of the cottage and throwing his head into the wind to see if he could find Arthur any easier with magic. He didn't sense anything, and so he pulled his jacket around himself and began a hunt for his old friend.

MMM

Candia hurried down the muddy lane, shivering in the biting wind. She cast a glance at the island, and her heart ached when she saw that the fog had receded and there was no longer the familiar shape of the tower. She was so caught up in the strange sense of sorrow that she felt that she didn't notice the prone form sprawled in the road until she had practically tripped over it.

Letting out a gasp, Candia scuttled backwards, her eyes wide as her gaze settled on the form of a young man, perhaps in his early 20s. His sandy blonde hair was muddy and plastered to his face and for several moments Candia couldn't do anything but stand there and stare at the unconscious young man.

A few moments later, Candia let out a groan as she recognised the form, and for a moment she considered just leaving him there. On the other hand, her conscious wouldn't let her. Instead she bent beside the form and turned him over, shaking him slightly in hopes of waking him.

"Artúr," Candia sighed. "Wake up. What do you think you're doing laying here in the middle of the road? You party to much with your bratty buddi- I mean your friends?"

Slowly, the blonde stirred and blinked his eyes open, stating confusedly at Candia.

"You okay?" Candia asked more gently, and the young man groaned again.

"Where am I?" With Candia's help, he hoisted himself to his feet and brushed himself off. "What just happened? Did you hear that loud noise a little while ago?"

"Well, you're laying in the middle of the road, and I can't be sure if you're referring to the thunder or your precious castle that just crumpled to the ground."

"Camelot?" His response was like a reflex, his eyes wide, and Candia immediately gave him a strange look as she tried not to snort with laughter.

"Uh, not quite. I was referring to that old tower your father owns which you charge tourists a fortune to visit. It just collapsed... Sorry about that... By the way, have you been talking to some old guy about King Arthur or something?"

"No, sorry," Artúr rubbed the back of his head, his eyes screwed shut. "I just had a weird dream."

Artúr hesitated for a moment before his face turned into one of pure horror. "Wait, did you just say the tower collapsed?"

"Yeah…" Canida trailed off, feeling at least a little guilty about the fact that the only source of income to the town's infamously wealthy family had just crumbled to the ground. Still, she felt much worse for the small shop owners whose businesses depended on the income from random tourists. At this point surely Artúr's family had plenty saved away for a rainy day, considering the ridiculous prices they charged for tours. Besides, Artúr and his ridiculous friends used to scare people off all the time by setting up pranks and pretending to be ghosts. Clearly he didn't take the family business very seriously. Everyone around the town constantly complained about the 'reckless rich kid who threw everyone's money around and scared off tourists'. (Behind closed doors, of course. You couldn't get away with that kind of talk in public) However Candia had to admit that since the majority of his friends had left for University two years ago, he'd calmed down a bit and even started managing the business. That isn't to say he didn't still treat everyone else like peasants. Yet despite how his recklessness frustrated Candia, his horrified expression made her heart ache just a little.

"Sorry," Candia added after a moment. "It was during the storm."

"It collapsed?" Artúr repeated again, his face no less horrified than a moment ago, his hands twisted into his hair, and Candia nodded once. "You mean, it's gone?"

"Well, I suppose the rubble is still there," Candia told him uneasily.

Artúr shook his head, his eyes wide and his hands pulling at his hair desperately.

"Look, are you okay? Do you need help getting somewhere? You still haven't said why you're laying in the middle of the road."

"Does my father know?" Artúr blurted out, ignoring Candia's question, and Candia shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know; probably not since it just happened. Do you want to go home and tell him? It might be better the sooner he knows, right? Are you okay?"

"No, not really. This is bad- really, really bad. You don't understand, he just… He just invited… He probably already told half the village… You hadn't heard, had you?"

"Heard what?" Candia raised an eyebrow.

"He invited the queen to come see it! The arrangements were all made, the inn booked, the restaurant ready, she's to arrive in a days time! It was to be a secret until she actually got here, but today he told some people and I told some people... She spent a long time finding the correct time to visit and take time out of her already busy schedule... This is a disaster!"

Candia's jaw dropped. She was shocked, to say the least. Not only was she shocked that the queen was to visit their quaint little village, but also because this was quite possibly the first time Artúr had ever told her anything of importance and actually been an object of sympathy to her rather than complete and utter annoyance.

"I can't go tell him, he'd find some way to blame me!" Artúr continued, talking to himself more than Candia. In fact it almost seemed he'd forgot she was there- typical. However when he turned and asked her what he should do, she was even more shocked.

"How would I know?" Candia tripped over her words. "I wouldn't know how to handle something like that!"

Rather than saying something like 'of course you can't' or 'not surprised, considering' or something else along those lines, he let out a soft, hopeless pitiful groan that made Candia wince slightly.

"If you don't plan on telling him, what do you plan on doing?" Candia ventured timidly.

"I don't know," Artúr sighed deeply, before he winced and rubbed his head. "I was heading to the boats, actually, to make sure everything was set up for the queen, but I must have fallen and hit my head. Maybe I'll get a room at the town inn? But no, Gregory'll just call my father! I don't know what I'm going to do…"

On a normal day, Candia would have just sneered and told him to be on his way, but for whatever the reason Artúr's plight made Candia's heart tug, and so with a sigh she made a suggestion which she was sure would be turned down.

"I'm heading to the Evans' house, perhaps you would like to come in for a few minutes? I think I remember your father approving of them."

Despite Candia's somewhat cutting statement, Artúr seemed amazingly thankful for the invitation, and he nodded enthusiastically.

"Anything to avoid my father at the moment. You don't understand, not that I ever thought you would."

That was the arrogant Artúr that Candia was accustomed to, however instead of turning away, she was almost relieved to hear the usually annoying rudeness in his voice. It showed that he hadn't hit his head too hard, which for a moment there Candia had been worried about. She didn't want to be the one to find an injured Artúr; his unreasonable father would likely assume that it hadn't been an accident.

"Well, it's this way to the Evans'," Candia spoke up, only to have Artúr roll his eyes dramatically.

"I know where it is. In this small village it's hard to miss anything, including a missing tower! Maybe I should head home and tell my father…."

"Whatever you think best. I'd better be on my way, see you," Candia hurried down the road. Several moment later, footsteps pounded against the dirt and then Artúr was walking next to her, absentmindedly fiddling with his jacket.

"I don't think I'll head home just yet," Artúr sighed. "Maybe in an hour or two."

"Don't you think your father will be worried about you after the storm?" Candia asked, however Artúr merely shook his head.

"Nah, probably figures I wasn't going to do my job at the tower anyway. He'll probably assume I was at a friends house when the storm hit, it's nothing to worry about."

Candia shrugged and continued to lead the way down the road. Soon the Evans' tudor home at the end of the road came into view, and Candia hurried through the front gate. Slipping her key out of her pocket, Candia held the door open for Artúr and then stamped her feet on the rug inside to get the mud off her shoes.

"I'm back!" she called, and moments later Mrs. Evans hurried into the room to fuss over Candia.

"We didn't know if you were alright out in the storm," Mrs. Evans frowned. "Why didn't you call? You should get that wet coat off. Oh dear me, Mr. Prichard, whatever brings you here?"

Artúr shrugged off his own coat, hanging it on a coat hanger, before he turned slowly to Mrs. Evans.

"I slipped during the rain and hit my head. It's still lightly raining, and, er, uh, Candia said I could come dry off here until it stops."

Candia flushed slightly when Artúr forgot her name, however she nodded to Mrs. Evans, who agreed rapidly.

"Yes, feel free to come into the sitting room! Would you like some tea, Mr. Prichard?"

"Yes, tea might be nice," Artúr sat delicately on the loveseat and Mrs. Evans hurried off to the kitchen, dragging Candia along behind her.

"Why did you invite him here?" Mrs. Evans asked the moment the door was closed. "Of course, I'm happy to allow him to dry off, and get some rest, and I'm glad you took him in, poor boy looks like he has been through something terrible, however I am surprised is all."

"I don't know," Candia sighed. "He was just laying in the middle of the road, and I had to do something!"

"I understand. Here, I've been keeping this tea warm for you, but why don't you bring a cup to Mr. Prichard? Then go warn Andrea, she should know about our guest."

Candia nodded, hurrying to give Artúr the tea before she rushed upstairs to tell Andrea. For a moment she debated over just how much she should tell her friend, but then she figured the rest of the story could wait until Artúr was on his way.

Candia rushed into Andrea's room, forgetting to know and getting an angry look in return from her friend.

"Sorry," Candia spoke quickly. "But I had to let you know. Artúr Prichard is down stairs."

"What? Why?" Andrea asked. "What's he doing here?"

"I kinda accidentally invited him to sit out the storm here, but he'll be gone soon, promise."

"Oh," Andrea nodded slowly. "Well, how about you? I was surprised you didn't come home with us. Where were you during the storm?"

"I was with Killen," Candia said quickly. Unfortunately, Andrea understood the implications and her eyes widened.

"So you saw the inside of the old magic man's hut! What was it like?"

"Old," Candia sighed.

"Tell me all about it!" Andrea begged, however a tired look overcame Candia, and she shook her head.

"When Artúr's gone home. I need to get down there, he's had something really bad happen. You know the tower? Well, it collapsed in the storm."

"Wow," was all Andrea could utter. "I don't like him much, but wow."

"Yeah, he's taking it pretty hard. Hey, I'll talk to you later. I'm probably needed downstairs."

Candia was hurrying downstairs to ask Artúr if he needed anything when there came a quick knock on the door. Candia glanced into the sitting room to see Artúr still relatively occupied with his tea, so she opened the door. She was shocked when she saw Killen standing there, dripping from rainwater.

"Candia, I was hoping I could talk to you, right away. It's about earlier," Killen hurried past Candia into the house, uninvited, and then his jaw dropped as his eyes landed on Artúr. Both boys' eyes narrowed.

"Hello," Killen nodded sharply. "Artúr."

"Hello," Artúr glanced up from his tea.

"What's he doing here?" Killen hissed to Candia, and Artúr rolled his eyes. Clearly he could hear the skinny lad from across the room.

"I came in for some shelter from the rain," Artúr sighed. "But I wouldn't have had I known that this household allowed such ragamuffins to march through the door, uninvited."

Killen's nostrils flared in anger, however he simply turned to Candia.

"Can I talk to you, please, just for a moment!" Killen begged. Candia, however, shook her head.

"Look, this is not a good time," Candia hissed. "And I'm not sure I feel ready to discuss what happened yet."

"Look, I don't want to get in the way of your sweet little petty romance squabbles, so I'll just be on my way," Artúr stood, and Killen suddenly looked quite proud of himself.

"Good! See ya!" he grinned, however his grin faded after a moment and a frown lined his face. "Wait, what'd you just say?"

"I don't think you should go home alone, considering how you hit your head," Candia sighed. "Maybe when Mr. Evans gets home he can take you."

"I'll be fine," Artúr shook his head as he stalked toward the door. He almost ran into Killen, who stepped back quickly to avoid being hit, and then hurried down the path toward the road.

"Glad he's gone!" Killen declared. "What's wrong?"

"I found him fainted in the middle of the road, he might collapse again! He's not in good enough condition to find his way home alone. You don't need a nursing degree to see that."

"Yeah, but-"

"If something happens to him, you can be sure his father'll blame the last people who saw him, being the Evans. I'm not going to get them in trouble so I'm going to see him at least to the Prichard Estate's gate, whether you help me or not!"

Candia hurried out of the house, and with a sigh, Killen informed Mrs. Evans about what was happening and hurried after his friend.

MMM

Artúr had his hands stuffed deep in his pockets when Candia caught up with him. She called his name and he stopped for a moment, surprised she had followed him.

"What are you doing?" He asked, continuing to walk down the road.

"Making sure you get home safe," Candia replied. "I'm not planning on letting my first patient run off when he's quite possibly still ill. How is your head feeling now when you're walking around?"

"Not too bad," he admitted. "Hey, um, thank you- for walking me home."

"It seems the right thing to do. Just trying to be a Good Samaritan," Candia replied.

"Hey, wait up!" A voice called from behind them, and Artúr groaned softly.

"Hey, he probably just wants to help too. Don't be rude."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure farm boy really wants to help me," Artúr sighed, however the two waited as Killen caught up.

"I told them where you're going," Killen told Candia softly. "I thought they should know. At least it's not really raining."

Artúr huffed and hurried ahead, ignoring the two teens trailing behind him.

"How far do we have to go with him?" Killen whispered to Candia.

"To his gate, just to make sure he doesn't collapse in the middle of the road again," Candia replied.

Killen rolled his eyes, however he walked quickly to keep pace with Candia. The three walked in silence for some time before the Prichard Estate came into view. The rolling lawns and sweeping drive appeared muddied from the rain, though the cast iron gate seemed to have miraculously already been dried off.

Artúr was about to turn and sarcastically thank the two for following him like a couple of rabid fans, when his brow creased and he squinted at a figure walking down the path toward them. The figure was walking slowly, until suddenly he looked up and saw Artúr. The person stopped dead in his tracks and locked eyes with the blonde boy, before he seemed to let out a soft sob.

Artúr stared at the figure in shock, a strange, foreign sentimentality coming over him that he couldn't possibly understand. He shook himself and was about to ask who the lanky boy was, when suddenly the figure ran forward and crushed Artúr in a herculean hug.

Killen's jaw dropped and Candia's eyes widened almost comically. They stood in silence for a moment, before Artúr let out a shout of outrage and pushed the boy far away from him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he shouted, his voice almost echoing off the estate's distant walls. "Are you crazy or something?"

"Arthur?" The boy pulled away, his face holding a kind of puzzled joy. "You... You're back! I... Oh..."

The boy seemed beyond words as he stared at Artúr, and suddenly tears began to form in his eyes.

"I just can't... After so long... You..."

Artúr shook his head at the boy, both puzzled and suddenly unspeakably angry.

"I don't know who you think you are," he shouted. "But get away from me!"

"Arthur?" The boy looked suddenly confused, his eyes searching the blonde boy's.

Artúr stared at the boy for a moment, as if remembering something he'd long since forgotten, before he shook his head angrily.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but get out of here before I call the dogs!"

The boy shook his head slowly for a moment, before Killen broke into the conversation.

"Wait," Killen frowned. "You've got to have the wrong person. This can't be Arthur. Artúr's far too much of a real prat to be your prat."

Candia glanced between the three boys, before she shook her head and threw her hands in the air.

"You're being ridiculous!" She exclaimed. "This isn't funny, just give up your joke."

"It's not a joke! Arthur, please, don't you remember me? Merlin! It's me, Merlin! I've been waiting for the time of the Once and Future King, I've been waiting for a new age! For so many years my life has meant nothing, and now it means everything! Remember the knights? Camelot? Remember your castle in all it's glory before... Before you were gone and... And your castle crumbled to the ground? Remember? Remember before everything you had was gone!"

Artúr shoved Merlin away again a he drew close and he seemed to grow desperate to get rid of the boy.

"Look," he turned to Killen, shocking the younger boy when tears almost began to gather in the corners of his eyes. "I knew you never liked me, and I know I might have been just as awful right back to you over the years, but if you haven't noticed, the tower collapsed! My family's entire life collapsed! Aren't you satisfied yet? Haven't you already gotten enough out of me? Do you have tell me all about how my 'castle crumbled to the ground'? Do you think I haven't noticed? Tell your friend or whatever he is to get out of here! Go on, and leave me alone! Just get out of here!"

With that, Artúr typed into the keypad at the entrance to his estate and yanked the gate open, slamming it behind himself. He then ran up the drive as fast as his legs would carry him, disappearing into the manor with a slam of the door.

"That wasn't too good..." Killen frowned.

"Wasn't too good? What'd you think it would be, funny? I don't like him either, but he's right. He may have lost everything today, and then you come up and bother him! I don't know what kind of a sick joke you're playing at, but if you hadn't noticed, his whole family could have just been ruined! Their only source of income had crumbled into nothingness, and beyond that they've invited the queen to visit, and now there's nothing for her to see! In fact, the whole town is ruined, so maybe rather than running around pretending to be 'Merin' and his little sidekick, you'll do something productive. For once, Killen, can't you do something to help the village rather than destroy it?"

"But Candia-" Killen tried to interrupt, however Candia shook her head.

"No, just leave me alone!"

"Candia wait!"

"I said leave me alone!" Candia spun, and Killen stumbled backwards in shock, staring wide eyed as Candia stalked away.

"Did... Did you see that? Her eyes, they were gold!" Killen spun towards Merlin, who nodded slowly.

"Yes, unfortunately the prophecy is progressing quickly," Merlin murmured, blinking his eyes hard and swallowing. "And... And Arthur doesn't remember."

"Are you sure that Artúr is Arthur?"

"I may forget things over the years, but I could never forget Arthur!" Merlin almost growled, rubbing at his face. "We must go in there and find him and talk to him, and make him remember! He must remember!"

Merlin's voice turned desperate at the end, however Killen simply shook his head.

"We can't sneak inside the Prichard estate! I realise you may not know a lot about the modern world, but he probably has electric fences and alarms which call the police and we don't need a run in with the police!"

"Then we'll simply have to fix these fences and alarms," Merlin replied and, with a single glance, not only the inner fence, but also every light within the manor flickered and went out. "There, all electrical things have short circuited. Come along, Killen."

With that, Merlin quickly opened the gate and marched up the path, Killen scurrying after him nervously.

AN: So, Merlin seems to think he's found Arthur, however Killen isn't so sure... And what's up with Candia? What do you think so far, and how will Artúr (and his father) react when Merlin marches through the front doors? Please review and tell me you opinions!