It was a rainy day in the village of Ealdor. On the edge of this village sat a rather unassuming little hut. It had straw for a roof, and only one room; anyone passing by wouldn't give it a second thought. Even the other villagers didn't think much of the residents there. Well nothing good anyway. A young woman, unmarried - 'without virtue' the villagers said - by the name of Hunith lived there with her son Merlin - 'bastard' the villagers said.

Because of the rain, Merlin with his big ears and goofy smile, had been allowed this once to dry the clothes magically, which meant that he finished his chores before breakfast even started. So early on the wonderful (rainy) and happy (thunder was crashing overhead) day, Merlin left his straw-roofed hut (immediately drenched) and whistled as he made his way towards the forest (lightning struck a tree) and decided that yes, today was a wonderful day.

He made his way far from the village, knowing that he had to make sure no one would accidentally stumble across him. Unlikely, as who would be out in the woods on such stormy (beautiful) day. With his whole day free, Merlin knew this was his chance use his magic freely.

He sat on a log deep in the woods, and with a smile on his face looked towards a stick on the soaked earth. With a flash of golden eyes the stick flared like a match, the fire leaping from its source, the sparks forming a figure in the air. It was a horse, rearing upwards. He thought horses were so majestic, there weren't any in Ealdor but when Cenred's men came, and sometimes the traders who passed through too, they came on horseback. It was a ridiculous dream, after all only rich people owned their own horses, but Merlin was going to have one of his own when he was older. Unfortunately while Merlin stared at his dream horse, envisioning his future, he didn't notice the men who were approaching.

"Awful nice horse you have there laddy." Came a scratching voice.

Merlin jumped to his feet, the horse dissipating into smoke and steam as he stared wide-eyed at the newcomer.

"I wasn't- it wasn't a- I'm not a-" Merlin stammered out, unable to form a sentence.

"Not magic?" Came a deeper voice behind him, making Merlin turn around to see three more men approach from behind him.

"Sure looked like magic to me," said the one in the middle.

"Awful young to be learning magic." A grey-haired man spoke from Merlin's left. Easily the oldest of the group so far, he made four.

Merlin realised he'd been surrounded. Turning in a circle, he realised two more men had joined them. Now surrounded by six men, who had all seen his magic, Merlin had never been more scared in his life. He felt like his heart had come to a rest in his throat, and his stomach had dropped all the way to his knees. He could barely breathe, he could barely think. Never, never let anyone see your gift, Merlin. It must stay a secret. His mother's words came unbeckoned into his mind. She'd always insisted that he keep himself hidden, he knew why of course. If someone loyal to Cenred found out, he'd be handed over as a slave to be trained as a weapon. Or if anyone from Camelot came over the border he'd dragged before their King to be burnt at the pyre. Unless he was taken by bandits or mercenaries and then who knew what would happen to him. He wasn't sure which scenario was worse.

The six men all stepped closer until the grey-haired one was stood right in front of Merlin close enough to touch.

"Are you deaf boy?" He snarled right into Merlin's face, and he realised that the men had still been speaking to him and he hadn't even noticed. He shook his head quickly.

"Then answer the question, how old are you?"

"11," He breathed in barely more than a whisper, before repeating just loud enough to be audible, "11."

"11, eh? Well, grab him." He ordered to his men.

One hand grabbed Merlin's arm while another landed rough on his shoulder. Merlin suddenly screamed and all six men were thrown backwards through the air crashing into trees and getting tangled in bushes. He saw one hit his head quite hard on a rock, but he had no time to wonder if he was still alive because Merlin started running. He ran faster than he'd ever run before. But he heard shouts behind him and could hear footfalls in pursuit. And worse, the sounds were getting closer. Merlin had always been clumsy, Will always said that he'd trip over thin air. Rocks and twigs were no different. Merlin stumbled too much to maintain his speed and at one point fell face first onto the forest floor. He scrambled to his feet and tried to keep going, but his feet had betrayed him and the men had caught up.

He didn't go down without a fight. He tried to punch and kick, although he'd never been very talented physically and these men didn't seem deterred by his physical attacks. Magically however, he threw off him whoever dared get close, and levitated twigs, rocks, leaves whatever off the forest floor and practically created a tornado around him in instinctive panic. The objects didn't do much more than cut and sting but the dust made it near impossible to breathe, and the constant onslaught meant that they couldn't focus. There was however strength in numbers, and Merlin couldn't look everywhere at once. One of the men snuck up behind the boy, and holding a knife to his throat ordered him to stop. Merlin knew he didn't have the precision to throw this man off, he'd probably cut his own throat open trying to. He stopped his magic, his eyes turning back to blue, and held up his hands in surrender.

The grey-haired man stabbed his sword into the ground and approached Merlin.

"Strong one he is. Could be worth something." One of his men said, in a deep baritone voice.

"Restrain him. Oh and make sure he can't use his magic."

Apparently his men interpreted that as knock him out, because the next thing Merlin knew there was a sharp pain in the back of his head and everything went black.

When Merlin came back to consciousness, he moved a hand round to his head, he groaned in pain and was startled to feel dried blood with his fingers. That probably wasn't good. He didn't have much time to linger on it though, as he found himself locked in a cage. Outside of the bars a ruckus had started at the edge of camp.

Two men got up from the fire, as their companions stepped out of the woods, cargo in tow. This particular cargo was yelling and thrashing about despite hands being tied behind his back and being dragged by two of the largest men in the group. Merlin also saw that this boy, for surely he was a boy he looked barely older than Merlin himself, was favouring his left leg, a leg that also happened to have a lot of blood dripping down it.

The grey-haired man merely chuckled at the youth's fruitless attempts. "May I introduce Prince Arthur of Camelot." He annouced in the snottiest voice making a deep bow of it. The other men laughed as if he'd just said the funniest thing in the world, but Merlin could barely hear it. Prince of Camelot repeated in his head. He scrambled away from the bars, knowing this did not bode well.

"Put him with the sorcerer." He heard. He didn't comprehend. The door to his cage was opened and the blond haired youth chucked unceremoniously in.

Merlin's breath quickened and he inched his way into the corner farthest from his new prisonmate. The prince stared at him too, obviously afraid but trying to hide it.

"You two are going to make me rich." A man said.

You must keep it a secret. She'd said. But of all the nightmare scenario's Merlin had imagined, he knew this was the worst. He didn't know what would happen to him. The men were obviously slavers and there was a Pendragon not a foot away from him. All three rolled into one. This was by far the worst day of Merlin's life.

XxX

It was the best day of Arthur's life. It was the first time he'd left Camelot without his father. He was 13 by now, nearly 14 even, practically grown he'd decided. And now he was out in the woods, with his own troupe of knights (alright technically they were his fathers but for today they were under his command) making their way through the forest of Essetir. So what if it was raining, and his cloak was soaked, and mud was splashing up from the horses hooves onto his new boots. It was still the best day ever as far as Arthur was concerned.

At least until the bandits attacked. They had been going through a valley, when suddenly arrows had come flying from all sides, knights fell, knocked off their horses all around him.

"Sire, Go!" One of the knights called back at Arthur. Sir Leon, that was it. He was new, he'd only been knighted last month. But Arthur didn't hesitate, he turned the horse around and sped away. Or at least, he tried to. However, he didn't make it far before his horse reared back in fright, throwing Arthur to the ground.

He grasped for his sword at his hip, and scrambled to his feet as he pulled it from its scabbard. He was a skilled swordsman, not the best yet, but he trained everyday and the knights always said he was coming along so well. He was sure he was more than a match for the two- three bandits who appeared from the trees around him. When one got too close he swung at him with his sword. However he heard a squelch of mud behind him and chancing a glance saw another figure come out from the trees, sword in his hand too.

"Well, well, what do we have here? Camelot red, and so young too. A knight perhaps?"

"I am Prince Arthur of Camelot and you will let me go!" He commanded in the strongest voice he could muster. He usually got his way, however merely asking wasn't going to cut it this time. He saw the man's eyes brighten as he took another step.

With every step forward Arthur stepped back, but aware of the bandits behind him he turned in a circle, sword pointed at anyone who dared come close.

"A Prince , eh? My day just keeps getting better. Grab him." At the order all three men came forward at once, and Arthur fell right into his training. Parrying and blocking, a feint to the right, eyes darting around alert, always remember your footwork. But he was one boy, and the men outnumbered and surrounded him. It wasn't long before one struck his sword right through Arthur's leg, just above the knee. The prince fell painfully to the ground. The bandits wasted no time in taking his sword while he was distracted; Another grabbing his arms quickly tying them behind his back. Arthur was in a haze of pain. He'd never been stabbed before. God it hurt. But he noticed when his arms were wrenched behind his back, and he was dragged to his feet. He tried to fight, but even he knew there was no point. There was no chance he was giving up though. Noticing nothing but the pain and his need to escape, he barely could tell that the men were dragging him through the woods. Nor that they'd come to a campfire. He vaguely made out the men laughing about something, as blood thrummed in his ears. He could barely believe there was still enough to do that, how much blood had he lost by now?

Sorcerer.Arthur's head snapped up. He'd heard it, the word sorcerer. It made its way into his brain with all the grace of spooked horse. Put him with the sorcerer. The man had said. A sorcerer. There was a sorcerer here?

He felt himself being dragged once more and then tossed onto hard wood, before he heard the slam of a door and click of a lock. He looked up and saw across from him, a black-haired boy with the biggest ears he'd ever seen and the widest eyes full of fear. Put him with the sorcerer. Sorcerer. This boy was a sorcerer.

Never forget Arthur. Sorcerers are evil creatures. Magic itself corrupts the hearts of all who use it. Pray you never meet a sorcerer, for he will surely try and kill you.And now he was locked in a cage with one. And wounded. And also captured by bandits with who knew what intentions. Trying to breathe as deeply and evenly as he could, Arthur tried to keep calm. He wouldn't let fear control him. He had to keep his head. No situation was hopeless for one brave and clever enough. He was to be King one day, he had to prove to himself that he was worthy of that. No King would let this situation get the better of them. No, he would get out of this. This would not be the worst day of his life.