I got this idea while I re-watched the series. It's not set in any particular season, although if I had to choose, it's in between season 1 and 2. Any who, I do not own Merlin or any of the original characters. The only things that belong to me are the characters I made up and the story. Enjoy!

The silvery moon was just a tiny sliver in the sky, although, it still managed to cast its light onto the sleepy village below. The village was nearly completely dark, only a few lights shown out from the windows of the taverns. The villager slept soundly in their beds knowing that just up the hill sat the Citadel, the home of their king Uther and his son Prince Arthur, the greatest of knights. Inside the castle was quiet too. The only people who walked the halls were the castle guard. The king, the prince, and the rest of the court both noble and low were nestled in their beds. In one of the lower levels of the castle sat the sanctuary of Gaius, the court physician. He too, slumbered in his bed snoring slightly. In the only other room slept Merlin, a young warlock in hiding and Prince Arthur's manservant. Unlike Gaius, Merlin tossed and turned in his sleep, troubled by a voice only he could hear.

Merlin…Merlin…Merlin…

"Bloody hell," Merlin grumbled, flinging the blankets back. He stuffed his feet roughly into his boots, not bothering to tie them to his legs. He snatched a shirt off the floor and threw it on. He'd better have a good reason for waking me, Merlin thought to himself. The Great Dragon loved making Merlin come visit him. Sometimes he would impart a warning or a bit of useful information, but more often than not, he simply wanted to remind the young warlock that he hadn't forgotten his promise to release the dragon. Merlin wanted to put that day off as long as possible. He like the Great Dragon well enough, but he knew that the beast had a score to settle with Uther and Camelot.

Merlin made his way down with hardly seeing another soul. He had made the trip often enough to do it blindfolded and still not get caught. He didn't even bother lighting a torch. His eyes would adjust to the darkness and the Great Dragon would be waiting for him on his perch. When Merlin walked into the vast cavern, the Great Dragon what where he'd though he'd be.

"You certainly took your time, young warlock," The Great Dragon mused.

Merlin fought to not roll his eyes. "What do you want? Unlike you, some of us have to work in the morning."

The Great Dragon only chuckled. "Well then I better tell you quickly so you can get back to sleep." This time Merlin did roll his eyes. "Look for this symbol." The Great Dragon blew flames into the air. They morphed into an image that Merlin had never seen before; it looked like a sword but the blade was a feather.

"What does it mean?" Merlin asked.

"I thought you needed to go back to bed?" The Great Dragon laughed.

Merlin looked affronted. "You can't just say something like that and then expect me to go to bed. What does it mean!"

"The sword arm of magic." Merlin's confusion only grew but when he opened his mouth to question the dragon further, he leapt into the air and flew off into the dark.

"Fantastic," Merlin muttered, throwing his hands up. It looked like he was in for another long night in the library.

oOo

Arthur smirked at the sleeping Merlin. The prince had spent the better part of his morning searching for his useless manservant. He was torn between dumping the pitcher of ice cold water and slamming his blade into the table. He slowly removed his knife from its sheath. A mark on the table would probably get him in less trouble than if he ruined a book. With a mischievous grin, Arthur lifted the blade up in the air before plunging down as hard as he could. Everything went exactly how he thought it would. The blade struck the table with enough force that it startled Merlin, making him shout in alarm, leaping from his seat. Of course Merlin wasn't the most graceful of people so the young man ended up tripping over his own feet and falling to the floor. It took every ounce of his bearing for Arthur to not burst out laughing.

Merlin glared up at his master and friend from the cold hard ground. But the barely contained laughter in Arthur's eyes softened his anger. "You know there are nicer ways of waking someone up."

"I'm afraid those methods are reserved for people who aren't dollop heads," Arthur teased. Merlin smirked, silently promising to get back at the prince.

Arthur offered a gloved hand, which Merlin took. He adjusted his clothing and then noticed Arthur's attire, Camelot tunic over chainmail. "What happened?"

"Father received word this morning about someone using magic to terrorize a small village near the mountains. He wants me to investigate and bring the sorcerer in if the rumors prove to be true."

Merlin hid his discomfort. He hated these types of missions. He hated helping Uther capture his own kind. He wasn't always able to free them. The death of Freya still weighed heavily on his soul. Not a day went by that he didn't think of her or their one and only kiss. If there was a magic user in the village, Merlin would try to help him if he could or stop him if he had to.

The sun sat high in its noon day position by the time the war party was ready to leave. As usual, Arthur was in front. Five knights would accompany him on his journey as well as Merlin who was in charge of the supply horse. Arthur looked out over the party and deemed that they were ready. With a shout and a gesture, they were off, hooves thundering. The villagers quickly got out of their way with a quick bow. No matter how many times they rode out, it always gave Merlin a rush. This is what he was born for to be by Arthur's side as he defended Camelot and its people.

They reached the village a few days later. It looked much like any other village with its thatched roofed cottages, and the free range chickens and geese. A number of people, mostly women, worked out in the open washing clothes or grinding grain for flour. When Arthur and is party rode to the middle of the village, the women stopped what they were doing and rushed to greet them. Merlin and Arthur exchanged a look. Normally women ran from the war party.

"Thank god!" one woman cried clasping her hands together. "We hoped you would come my lord!"

"Camelot will always protect its people," Arthur said awkwardly. "My men are in need of a warm meal and our horses need water." The woman nodded letting the prince know that his request would be taken care of. "Where is your elder?" Who is in charge?"

The woman chewed her bottom lip. "Right now I am." Arthur arched a brow but said nothing. "All the men disappeared nearly a month ago," she explained. "Even the male children. My husband was the headman, so it fell to me to care for the people."

"Your messenger said that there was a sorcerer?"

The woman nodded vigorously. "The most ancient looking man I have ever laid eyes on. He lives in a cave near the lake at the base of the mountain. He came to edge of the village shortly after the men folk disappeared and told us to send a messenger to Camelot if we ever wanted to see our men again." The woman's eyes began to water. She looked terrified that she would be punished. She knew that the sorcerer meant harm to the prince but called him anyways. Arthur gave her a small smile to ease her fears. He understood. You had to do everything you could to protect the ones you love. Her only hope of seeing her loved ones again was to comply with the sorcerer's demands.

"We will set out at first light," Arthur announced. "I would like to ask you some more questions about this sorcerer to get a better idea of what we may face tomorrow." The headwoman bowed deeply, beckoning for Arthur to follow. Arthur jerked his head to Merlin, indicating that he wanted him to come. Merlin handed the reins of the supply horse to a young woman and went to follow his lord. Just before he entered the headman's house, he looked to the edge of the woods and could have sworn that he saw a wizened man standing at the wood's edge. He rubbed his tired eyes and looked again, but the old man was gone. A chill ran down Merlin's spine. He didn't know what the sorcerer would do when they sought him out in the morning.

oOo

Dawn's golden light was just starting to filter through the trees as Arthur, Merlin, and the knights made their way towards the opening of a cave near a lake. The forest was eerily silent, putting everyone on edge. The sword in Merlin's hand felt uncomfortable and wrong, but he needed it to keep up his ruse. As they cresting the hill, they saw an ancient looking man fitting the head woman's description sitting by a small fire. He had his back to the group. Arthur silently gave his men directions and they resumed their course.

"You'll have to do better than that princeling," the old man crooned not turning around. "My spells told me of your arrival the moment you crossed into the boarders of the village."

Arthur, Merlin and the knights froze. The ancient man got up in a groan and slowly turned around. His face was deeply lined like old leather, though his eyes still shone with life.
The few wisps of hair left on his head were as white as clouds. His robes were plain and worn. Light glittered off a golden necklace around his neck, the only bit of wealth he appeared to have. The ancient sorcerer smiled kindly at the knights looking more like a kindly grandfather than someone who held half a village hostage.

Arthur was the first to recover, sliding his blade free from its sheath, "You will release the villagers and come with us to face judgment for your crimes."

The ancient sorcerer bowed. Once again the morning light was caught by the necklace. There was something about the medallion that bothered Merlin but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Of course my prince," the sorcerer said. He waved his hands and his eyes flashed gold. "There, all returned and no worse for wear. Shall we?" The sorcerer then held his wrists out together; waiting for the shackles they had brought for him. Once again the knights shared a glance. This was not what they had expected and now they feared a trap.

At Arthur's urging, Merlin approached the ancient sorcerer and clamped the irons around his delicate wrists. The old man continued to smile gently unnerving the knights more. The sorcerer remained quiet the entire way back to the village. He stood off to the side as the knights accepted the happy thanks from the villagers reunited with their loved ones. He said nothing as the knights hoisted him into a wagon for the journey to Camelot.

Merlin tried several times during the journey back to get the sorcerer to talk to him. He wanted to find out just what he intended to do once he got to Camelot, but he remained silent. By the time the castle came into view, Merlin was ready to explode. He watched in stony silence as the sorcerer was taken off the cart and marched straight to the throne room, where Arthur had already gone in order to brief his father about the whole, strange ordeal.

The ancient sorcerer's smile had now taken on a cruel edge. Merlin was the only who noticed the change. He had wanted to confer with Gaius, but that would have to wait for the knights had shoved the sorcerer into the throne room to receive his sentence from the king.

The throne room was packed to capacity. The noble class never could pass up seeing a sorcerer's trial. Who knew when it would be the last? In the throng, Merlin caught sight of a family silver head and made his way towards it. Gaius sighed with relief when he saw his young ward walking towards him.

"I have a bad feeling about this Gaius," Merlin confessed. "He hasn't said a word since we found him. He wanted to be brought here."

"That's never a good sign", Gaius agreed. The two turned their attention to the scene unfolding before them.

Uther sat on his throne looking every last bit the hard king he was. Arthur stood just to his right, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He looked as uncomfortable with the situation as Merlin.

"You stand accused of using magic, which is forbidden in these lands," Uther's voice rang out strong and clear in the room. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

The ancient sorcerer scowled at the king. "You were once a friend to those with magic," he growled. "You once used our abilities for the betterment of your people and listened to our wisdom. Now, the blood of a thousand innocent people is on your hands. You are no king! You are a traitor and murderer!" The sorcerer then spat at the kings feet. A knight rushed forward and struck the old man, sending him sprawling across the floor. Merlin flinched. The old man spat out blood as the knight roughly helped him back to his feet.

"You will show the king respect," the knight warned. The old man bowed mockingly to the king and wiped the blood from his mouth. Like before, only Merlin noticed the change in the sorcerer's mood. He seemed pleased. The feeling of dread that had gnawed at Merlin for days turned into a deafening roar.

"Your days of tyranny are at an end," the old sorcerer shouted, snatching the golden necklace from his neck. He pressed his bloodied hand against the medallion and began to chant. Courtiers panicked and dashed for the exit. Half the knights surged on the old man while the other half formed a protective barrier around their king. Merlin found his place by Arthur's side, ready to defend his friend if necessary. He hoped that in the chaos any magic usage by him would go unnoticed.

Flames leaped from the medallion, forming an image in the air, a sword with a feather for a blade. Merlin's stomach dropped. He recognized it as the symbol the Great Dragon showed him. The Blade of Magic, he called it.

A knight ran the sorcerer through with his sword, causing him to falter in his chanting. The image flickered and the rest of the knights followed suit. With each thrust, the image dimmed until it was nothing more than a thing fiery line. But still the sorcerer smiled. He finished his chant with his last breath, falling to floor with vacant eyes and a triumphant smile. The image flared back to life, growing brighter until the entire throne room was bathed in a blinding white light causing all present to cry out in pain.

oOo

The field was a flurry of activity. Several tents had been erected making the area look like some refugee camp instead of a university dig sight. A strong wind kicked up causing many of the people to flinch as particles of dirt found their way into their eyes. Just beyond the dig site, hidden by the woods sat the ruins of a once great castle. A small blue car carefully navigated the bumpy road to the dig site. A few people, student and professor, stopped their work to wave at the driver. The car wove through the site until it reached the largest tent which served as command central for the whole operation. A young woman got out and strode purposely towards the tent. She was of average height and stocky. Her walk denoted that she knew how to handle herself and wasn't afraid to. The wind whipped her raven's wing hair around her face. Once inside the tent, it settled to its usual place framing her heart shaped face, lightly brushing her chin. The young woman removed her sun glasses, taking everything in with gray eyes that were far too old for her youthful face. Her gaze zeroed in on a slightly plump, graying man who stood over a map discussing logistics with another man. She walked towards them.

"Ground radar hasn't shown us anything else around site D-6." The other man said to the older one. "Perhaps this is a singular anomaly?"

"Perhaps," the older gentleman conceded.

"What have you found this time?" the young woman asked with a smirk.

The graying gentleman turned around in surprise, his face breaking out into a delighted grin. He pulled the young woman in for a bone crushing hug, which she returned. The other gentleman tactfully withdrew.

"Roslyn, dear!" the older man cried. "You should have called when you arrived."

"I tried Professor Fletcher," Roslyn laughed. "There's no reception out here."

Professor Fletcher pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and shrugged when he looked at the screen. "Less distraction," he said. He beamed at Roslyn like an excited grandparent. "I know you're more of a scientist than historian," he said, "but you know more Arthurian information than anyone else, inside the field or out."

Roslyn's smile faltered slightly. "Unfortunately," she said blandly. "I take it you think you finally found King Arthur's burial site?"

Professor Fletcher shook his head. "Even better, Merlin's!"

Roslyn laughed and motioned for her old mentor to fill her in. She had met Professor Fletcher during her student teaching period during her undergrad years. He took her even though her field was the history of science and his was Arthurian legends. He found in her a wealth of knowledge and in him, she finally found a loving father figure.

"Every summer, we set up a dig near the old castle on the hill. It's a rich site and serves as a great learning tool for the students. Nothing special mind you, just the usual items: pots, spear heads, and what have you. But this year, we were training some new students on how to use the ground penetrating radar, a brilliant bit of technology, and we discovered something rather interesting; an unmarked grave site."

"What's so special about it?" Roslyn asked. Unmarked graves were common enough at sites like this. Often those too poor to afford a proper burial were dumped in pauper's graves.

"I see your skepticism," Professor Fletcher said waving a finger at her, "but let me show you what we found with the bones."

Intrigued, Roslyn followed her old mentor towards the artifact tent. Several people called out to her as they passed, she waved back with greetings of her own. Her work kept her inside. She didn't mind, but she did miss working at sites like this. There was something thrilling about discovering an item that hadn't seen the sun for centuries or even longer. She lengthened her stride to keep up with her old mentor. Yes, she definitely needed to get out more.

The artifact tent was the quietest place on a dig site. Most of the students were busy cleaning items in hopes of identifying them while others entered in the field notes from the site coordinators. Professor Fletcher walked to a locked cabinet and pulled out a small glass case. He carried it to a vacant table, turning on the light as he set it down. Roslyn stood across from him, eager to see what he called her in for. Inside the glass case was a golden medallion carved with a strange symbol, a sword with what appeared to be a feather for the blade. Roslyn's blood turned to ice when she saw it. Images from her past surged to the surface. She pushed them down again with a few deep breaths.

"We don't have anything like it in our records," Professor Fletcher explained, not noticing her change in mood. "It's clearly pre-Christian. I have sent a photo copy to several other experts but I wanted to get your opinion." Professor looked up and frowned. "Are you alright?"

Roslyn forced her face into a pleasant smile. "Just a little tired," she lied. "I've seen the image before."

"You have!"

Roslyn nodded. "Yes, from my childhood." Professor Fletcher's face became the epitome of concern. He knew about her past. It was part of the reason why they were so close. "It's the symbol of a secret order sworn to protect the old ways."

"Interesting," mused Professor Fletcher rubbing his chin. "You wouldn't happen to have a name I could reference?"

Roslyn made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. "There were several names, none confirmed."

Professor Fletcher reached out to clasp Roslyn's hand. "I am sorry for bringing up the ghosts of the past. If this dredges up too many ghosts you can leave. I won't force you to stay."

"Don't worry about it," Roslyn said giving the weathered hand a squeeze. "I have a few days to kill before I have to head back to my lab. Plus, I miss working in the field. Perhaps I could give you a hand?"

"That would be splendid!" beamed the professor. "Why don't you take some time to familiarize yourself with the site? I'll get back to you around noon?"

Roslyn nodded and walked out. She let her feet carry her away without caring where they took her. That image, that damned image. Would she ever be free of it? The woods were pleasantly cool and soon she found herself standing near a small stream. She knelt down and took a sip of water. It was cool and sweet in her mouth.

A strange cry destroyed the peaceful quiet of the woods. Birds took to flight in the sky and Roslyn straightened, searching for the source of the sound. Her keen eyes found nothing but she couldn't relax. The air hummed with energy and the wind grew stronger. Something was happening and she didn't like it. She turned to run back to camp when her world vanished into a blinding white light.

Well there you have it, the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it.