Disclaimer: BBC Merlin and Smallville are property of their respective creators, owners and rights holders.

Author's Note: This is the first part of a four-shot. I know it's short, but Part 2 will be published in a few days, maybe sooner. If you like this story, I ask that you review so I will know that there are people interested.

Takes place after "The Last Dragonlord."

Prologue:

Arthur stared at Merlin. Merlin stared at Arthur. The wizard's hand fell limply to his side as remnants of magic clung to his panicked figure. The monstrous acromantula lay still in front of them, its death hanging like an omen in the air.

Arthur unsheathed his sword and placed it at Merlin's throat, but Merlin stood still, refusing to fight back. The blade was near enough to scrape the warlock's skin, and Merlin's eyes implored Arthur to stop, to cease his attack before the magic acted of its own accord. Then it was too late. There was a flash of gold, and they were sent somewhere neither could predict.

Arthur ended up in the rich interior of a penthouse, standing in the middle of a well-furnished office, walls covered in emblems and symbols, and adorned with swords and statues. Yet, Merlin found himself standing on a gravel driveway near a yellow house, fields stretching out around him, horses and cows grazing in the distance. It resembled a farm, but no farm he'd ever seen.

A bald man entered the office the same time a dark-haired man walked down the steps of the house. Both saw the strangers and were curious. Yet, once the men began to converse, Arthur and Merlin began to realize exactly why they'd been sent here: to learn.