Word count for this chapter: 1,404

As soon as Mordred slipped into Merlin's room within the mansion, the old wizard looked up from his usual place behind his book-laden desk. He had been expecting Mordred to come.

"Did you do it?" Mordred asked Merlin as he shut the door.

He sat down in the empty chair in front of Merlin's desk.

"There was nothing to be done," Merlin answered curtly. "The Black Rider certainly did a number on him. I'm glad I didn't have to do anything. I find the whole business distasteful. I only listened to him."

Mordred sighed. "Yes, I figured you'd think that. But you read his thoughts though?"

"Yes of course. Just to see how things were progressing. Personally, I think it'll all come to nothing, but all in all, it is not my problem," Merlin remarked, a small hint of relief in his tone.

Merlin then peered down at the book he had been studying and made a note on the paper beside the book. The paper was already half full with his notes.

Mordred remained silent, though he personally wanted it to come to something. For a little while at least - to keep things interesting.

"Do you have it?" Mordred asked hopefully. "What I need?"

Merlin smiled. "Yes I do," he confirmed. He stood up and went to a shelf full of potions on the far side of the room.

He took one of the vials and returned to his desk. Mordred reached out his hand to take the vial from Merlin.

Merlin shook his head, putting the potion out of the boy's reach. "First, I need to remind you that this is quite a strong potion," He expressed to him firmly. "You must be careful, my boy. You only need to take a drop of this once a day. I need to monitor you to make sure you won't deal with any adverse effects. If you could see me regularly, then that would be best."

"Right. I understand. If I take too much of it, my magic will explode from within me and I'll die. It's the price I'm willing to pay," Mordred declared solemnly.

Merlin nodded. He handed the vial to Mordred who held it carefully in his hand as if it were a precious object.

Merlin assured him, "By taking this potion, no one can take your magic from you by force. You can trust in that. But your magic will be bound tighter to you than ever before. You may need to find ways to release it, to ease the pressure within you. Though as long as you use the potion correctly and see me, then you should be fine."

"Thank you," Mordred said sincerely.

He took care to only drink a drop of the potion – made easier by the small opening of the vial.

"I feel it. It's working. Thank goodness."

"Of course it would work," the old Merlin said proudly. "I do have a talent for potions, I would have to say."

"Yes. Well, I should go… I appreciate what you've done for me," he thanked Merlin.

Merlin inclined his head.

As Mordred went to leave the room, Merlin spoke, "Gwydion, it's quite all right to be scared. I feel the same way, you know. My memory has been going a bit funny…anyway… But if you can change that fear into a strength, then you will conquer it. Take care, my boy."

"See you, Merlin," Mordred said quietly.

He would not face Merlin because he could feel the tears prickling at his eyes. He hurriedly swiped the wetness away and departed from the room.

"Were you able to read Mordred's mind, Will?" Bran asked him as they reached the conjured lake.

"Yes, which is interesting in of itself. He had particularly strong mental barriers to prevent anyone from reading even his surface thoughts. But he opened them up a bit for me. And we can trust him. I'm sure of that," Will said confidently.

"What exactly made you think that?" Bran wanted to know.

"The Dark is all about this place. I think it's better if we discuss this properly back at the Sanctuary. For now, you just have to take my word for it," Will decided.

"All right. That sounds like the best idea," Bran agreed.

Will removed the sword from its encasing and then Bran asked, "Can I throw Excalibur into the lake?"

Will raised his brow, but nodded. "Yes, if you want to. As long as it gets into the lake, it doesn't matter who throws it."

He gave the sword to Bran who threw it into the water.

Then the pair of them headed back up the hill. Bran wondered if Mordred would truly be there as he promised. But then Will said something to him, causing Bran to scoff weakly, shoving Will in the shoulder. Yet Bran couldn't help but smile all the same.

"I don't want to get my shirt wet," Arthur said as he took it off, and threw it to the ground.

Gwen twisted her lips, trying hard not to smile. "Imagine what people would say if there was a version of the tale where King Arthur goes skinny-dipping to retrieve Excalibur from the lake. Now that'sa story to tell the children," she declared in an amused tone.

"Gwen, it may look like water, but it's really vodka… I told you this before," Lancelot said, teasing her.

"Oh shut up, love," she retorted.

She pulled Lancelot toward her and kissed him.

"Well, I'm planning to keep my pants on," Arthur said with a half-smile. He kicked off his shoes and removed his socks too. "Wish me luck."

"Are you sure you won't drown, Arthur?" Gwen brought up in deep concern. "This is the Dark's stronghold after all. They would do anything to stop you from gaining the sword."

"I have a good feeling about this. And I'm a strong swimmer. I'll be fine, you'll see," Arthur said self-assuredly, his tone arrogant.

Gwen bit her lip, but nodded. Lancelot squeezed her shoulder to comfort her.

"I'm going in after you if anything does go wrong," Lancelot told him.

"I wouldn't expect any less from you," Arthur remarked, clapping him on the shoulder.

He entered the lake, and started swimming and looking for the glint from Excalibur that lay at the lake's bottom.

When Arthur saw it, he told the others, and he dived toward the sword.

When he grasped the hilt of Excalibur, he felt that nothing could beat this moment of happiness and overwhelming relief.

Clutching the sword, Arthur swam back to the surface. He noticed that the hilt had no blood on it this time around.

He held up the sword to show Gwen and Lancelot that he had gotten it.

They smiled, grateful that he finally had the sword.

Soon after Arthur reached the shore and put back on his shirt, socks and shoes; the three of them placed their hands on the sword.

The sword transported them back to the Sanctuary as they had been told it would.

They had succeeded in getting Excalibur. Despite Arthur's inner conflict, he still felt like he could taste victory… that the apocalypse would end with the world being safe from the manipulation of the Dark.

Freya dreamed that she was standing before a lake. She looked down at herself to see that she was donned in a deep purple gown, one that she certainly wouldn't be able to afford.

The water sprites of the lake were calling to her. Freya felt anxious and excited all at once. It was a strange mix of emotions.

"You are the Lady, the Lady of the Lake," the water sprites said in unison, their voices were like music to her ears. "When we ask it of you, will you come? Will you?" They inquired of her earnestly.

Freya smiled at them. "Of course. Of course I will. I would never turn my back on my calling."

The sprites danced upon the lake, happy at her words.

The scene changed to her standing in the lake with a sword in her hands. Until the end of time itself, she thought, as she disappeared and took the sword along with her.

When Freya woke up, she couldn't quite remember what she had dreamed about. But she was sure it had been a good dream, and she couldn't keep from smiling the rest of the day.