A rhythmic thunder sounded through the sky as Mordred looked up. He saw a black shape fly high above him and he wondered if he had hallucinated. A dragon or something else? He thought hard to remember some of the books Morgana had given him about the creatures in the area.
It had to have been a dragon. He called for the knights to hurry and quickly they rushed their steeds into the driving rain. The wind soaked through their chain mail, but Mordred feared they wouldn’t be in time.
Merlin rushed to his feet as a creatures of great size barreled toward them. Arthur yelled out, “Dragon!” Merlin didn’t stay long where he had been pushed. His feet carried him into his home as the king’s companions drew their weapons.
The maw of the beast opened and hot flame spewed forth. It created a barrier between the sorcerer and the travelers. His scales gleamed a dark red against the bright sun. The clouds came into the clearing for the first time in days as Merlin felt the fear trap into his heart again. He knew the dragon wouldn’t harm him, for he also knew he had someone called the thing to that place, but he feared that Arthur would defeat it. If the king took out the dragon, then he could easily capture and kill Merlin. The other slight fear was that the dragon would kill the king. Even deep down inside of the brunette he felt the friendship was still there. He couldn’t deny that Arthur had been there for him all of those years during his captivity.
The sounds of the battle were harsh against his ears as he snuck a peak through the vines. The men were holding well against the dragon. He could see that even the beast knew Merlin’s heart, because he kept them at bay but did not go in for any serious injury. He hoped they would just tire and give up. He wanted to just be left alone.
If he had known how to stop the storm, he would have done it. He knew that people were dying. He was aware that people were going to die for possibly years to come even after the storm stopped. Homes were gone, fields were flooded, and food stores would be rotten or looted within the next few months. He wasn’t the idiot the king called him. He knew the implications of having such a curse on the land. The problem was that he was also being truthful. He didn’t know how to stop it. He didn’t even know how he had cursed the land in the first place. He knew he had sent out some powerful magic during the celebrations, but he didn’t know that it would cause such suffering. His magic could be unpredictable, but it had never been this full of malice before. He didn’t understand it.
Honestly, even before he had only done damage by breaking vials or exploding candles when he had tried to suppress his magic. He had never done anything such as cursing an entire place. He wondered how his magic could have gotten to the point bring down the heavens on everyone in Albion.
The dragon roared suddenly. It reared up onto its back legs suddenly. Merlin saw a sword embedded deep into its hide of the front. Maneuvering the large body it struck out with the massive tail. The appendage collided with the blond king in a sickening crunch. Throwing the monarch far from the battle and into the tree line. Merlin thought for sure the man had been killed. The others saw their leader tossed and backed away from the fight. The woman, Merlin just really noticed her, ran for Arthur to prop him up and check on him. The rain came down harshly and drowned out the sounds.
Merlin almost ran to join the group to find out if his friend had been killed. They quickly gathered him up. One of the knights, a man with long wild hair, turned sad eyes toward the sorcerer and dragon. Then they rushed out of the now soaked clearing with the body of his king between them.
The dragon groaned and lay down onto the mud beneath. The boy ran out to him and quickly grabbed onto the hilt of the sword. “I have to remove it so I can heal it,” he informed the beat. The dragon nodded in consent, but still screamed out when the blade was pulled from between his tough scales.
“It missed my heart, young warlock,” the dragon spoke to him. He only glanced barely to the new friend as he pushed against the bleeding wound. He shoved his magic into the slash and tried to direct it to help. It didn’t do much and the dragon chuckled, “You are not made to heal me, Merlin.”
He stepped back, “How do you know my name?”
“You called me here. Shouldn’t it be obvious that I would know who you are?” the dragon gave an odd toothy grin even as he settled down farther into the earth. “I am Kilgharrah. I am the last of my kind and you are the only of your kind,” with that said the great golden eyes shut and he lay his large red scaled head down onto the ground. Deep breaths came through with a rumble and Merlin realized the dragon had fallen asleep.
Gathering his magic he forced the sky to open above his clearing once again and bring down sun. The little rain that had come through now was quickly soaking into the ground. The animals were weary of the massive magical creature laying outside of the tree house, but they still came out from hiding.
The sorcerer had a lot to think about. How did he call the dragon to him? It had been an instinct in him to do so and it had felt different than his chaotic magic. Why did Arthur have a woman among his knights? He knew his king wouldn’t bring a woman along on a quest, so how did they end up with one in their group? He looked up to where the sun was shining in the blue sky above. The swirling of grey clouds could be seen on the edges of the tree tops. If he could clear away his little area, could he clear away the storm from all of Albion? No, probably not. He couldn’t even heal his dragon of a sword wound. He wasn’t powerful enough to save Albion from a curse. Even a curse he had someone put onto the land himself.
He leaned against the side of the dragon, being mindful of the wound that was still there but had stopped bleeding. He looked over at where Arthur had landed against the tree on the edge of the forest. Was the king dead? If he wasn’t, would he just leave Merlin alone? Probably not. His blue eyes clouded over and he yawned before falling asleep against the warmth of the scaly hide.