Cobwebs lay everywhere. Nobles and servants go about the chamber, cleaning and chatting quietly, their eyes avoiding the body under the chandelier. Ignoring Arthur's complaints at the appointment of his new manservant, King Uther sat on his throne, surveying the chaos around him. Another sorceress had made an attempt on his son's life. He shuddered to think of what might have happened if Gaius' boy, whatever his name was, hadn't pushed him out of the way…

He sighed. A king must not think of such dreadful thoughts, lest his mind stray. "Arthur," Uther interrupted Arthur, mid-tirade. "Stop complaining. You are a prince, not a child."

"But father-" Uther stopped him with a wave of his hand, and Arthur's protests silenced. He loved Arthur, but sometimes he wondered if Merlin would ever mature. "Gaius," he called to his friend.

"I was wondering," he said. "How did-" Suddenly, a wind picked up, blowing around the room. "What? What is this?" Not another sorcerer!

"What is going on?" Gaius' boy urgently whispered to the physician. Gaius shook his head in confusion. The wind swirled faster and faster around the room, and Uther stood quickly. A bright light flooded the room, blinding its occupants. The wind howled, a screaming, tragic sound, and Uther's eyes quickly scanned the room. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Arthur cover his ears. Then, as it reached an agonizing climax, the light and wind died down, and a blessed silence followed.

Hearing a gasp, Uther looked up. Standing in front of him were two men: Gaius' boy, in the garb of a noble, and Arthur. The funny thing was, both men were also standing on either side of him.

It was chaos, but it always was these days. A cauldron stood bubbling in the corner over an odd purple flame, open books lay scattered and floating about the room (flipping themselves, of course), glittering charms hang shaking from the ceiling, and amid it all paced Merlin, muttering to himself.

"Merlin, what is this?" a perplexed Arthur asked. Merlin spun around, scowling.

"I'm trying to find a way fix the Morgana problem. If I could just break the code to this STUPID book!" He clenched his fists, and slammed the offending book on the nearest table, the very picture of stress and misery.

"How long have you been working on this?" Arthur inquired, concerned. Ever since the last attack from Morgana, Merlin had been working tirelessly to find a way to end her, once and for all. A month ago, she had waged war against the city, and tens of citizens had died, including one of Merlin's apprentices, Darian. Of course, the idiot had blamed himself.

"Only a few hours," he answered. Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Well, days. Only a few days."

"You need a break. Eat. Sleep." Merlin opened his mouth to protest, but Arthur waved his hand. "As your King, I command you. Take a break, Merlin. The war can wait a moment for you to eat something." Merlin looked as though he was going to argue before relaxing and sinking into a stool. He put his head in his hands.

"I don't know if I can take another loss, Arthur. People keep dying and I always too late to stop it… I don't know what to do."

"You're just going to have to survive this Merlin. You must. Camelot needs you, Guinevere needs you, and God help me, so do I. You cannot give up," Arthur said.

Merlin froze, then turned his head toward Arthur, and he knew he had said the right thing. After a moment, a sly grin crawled on Merlin's face. "Yeah, that's true. You'd be useless without me."

Arthur scoffed. "You wish."

"I thought you needed me!"

"Please, Merlin, I was just trying to get you out of this funk of yours. Can't have a court sorcerer that too much of a girl to actually accomplish something."

"Just admit it Arthur, you like me!"

"Like you? Merlin, are you sure these fumes haven't affected your mind?"

"Quite sure, Sire. It's you I'm worried about."

"No need to be worried, Merlin. No silly fumes can affect me."

"Yes, that's right sire. You'd actually have to have a brain for the fumes to affect your mind."

Arthur grabbed the nearest book and tossed it at Merlin, who ducked, causing the book to fly into the cauldron. Wind picked up, and a white light appeared. Arthur closed his eyes, and tensed. The wind abated, and he heard murmuring all around him. Merlin gasped, and Arthur opened his eyes.

"Merlin?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"You see it too, right?"

"Yes, sire."

"Where are we, exactly?"

Merlin hesitated. "The past, Sire. Or at least, I think so." Of course. The past. Why not?