He had waited until the last minute, as he had with everything. The moon was full in the sky and at hung over the castle like it was being pierced into place by the spindles on the tower, Merlin had noticed with a sour sense of irony that the world looked peaceful now, quiet, the chill of despair had vanished with the curse and windows were open throughout the castle to let in the fresh and warm spring air. And in less than an hour, Merlin knew it would all be ruined again, by him....
He was scared; it seemed this year all he ever seemed to do was destroy someone or something. So many promises hung in the air, uttered by him but beyond his control. Who was he really? A mere servant and yet he was the one with the audacity to agree to terms and conditions on freeing the city from one plague after another.
The Dragon was hardly to be trusted, perhaps less so than Nimueh. Merlin had thought of him once as his only understanding companion. The Dragon was as alone as Merlin was, they were kin, so the Dragon said; they had a bond. It hadn't taken long for Merlin to realise the darkness behind those words, the fire that roared inside the Dragon like a volcano ready to erupt. Every instinct told him not to release the Dragon, would he really leave his captives be? Would he not try and kill Uther himself where Merlin had failed? Would he destroy Morgana when again Merlin had been too weak to do so?
As he passed through the corridors, finding his way through the darkness that was only lifted by the moonlight through the windows, he cast silent spells on any wanderer who might spot him and guards who hung around in doorways, sending them into a blissful sleep... He felt now no better than the Old Religion, with their dirty tricks. Merlin bit on his lip as he tugged a torch free from its bracket and crept down toward the cavern that had housed the Dragon these past twenty one years. He bit it so hard small beads of blood dribbled down his chin. He wiped them away hastily and when he reached the edge, he looked once behind him and then out into the darkness.
The Dragon would be here soon...
Kilgarrah had been restless all day; the sense of something brewing had churned within him for many days now. The promise of his freedom that he had extracted from Merlin would, he hope, come into fruition soon as had all the warnings he had given the young Warlock.
He prided himself on his successful manipulation of the young man, or so he hoped. The dragon was now awaiting the arrival of the said individual.
He stayed out of sight as he usually did whilst cowering in his prison in the bowels of Camelot. Uther Pendragon, his captor, whilst sat above him would soon regret the day he had tricked him into submission.
The lumbering figure of Kilgarrah shuffled around on the high ledge that he found to be most useful; high enough to be out of sight of the trusted Camelot guards that checked the prison every so often but also close to the point of access as to see who would want to visit him. He would never refer to Gaius or Merlin as a friendly face, but their occasional visits broke the monotony of day to day life, locked in a natural prison of stone as hard as the heart of the King.
He craned his neck above him and caught sight of the light from the outside world. It began to dim further through the cracks in the rock surrounding him; the sky reflected his current state of mind, darkening by the minute.
The moon then replaced the sun as the natural light source and the mist from the fires of local people drifted over head. With the suddenness of the fading daylight, the superior hearing of the ancient being alerted him to a visitor; could this be the moment he thought with glee? Who deserves my wrath first?
Breathing in deeply and hoping this would be the last time he would descend from this vantage point; he unfurled his aging wings and gracefully made his way to the promontory at the cave mouth.
“Well young Warlock…it’s about time you returned. I hope you have returned to fulfil your promises?”