It's been awhile. After I finished my multi-fic trilogy (Friendship called treason, Damages and First day of forever), I worked on several oneshots and small ideas. I think I wrote dozens of things, including small parts of multifics and so on, but never had the energy or the full inspiration to start a multific.

But here I am. I hope that some of you might remember me and my previous work and enjoyed it. This will be a multific if you want it to be. It means that if you want me to continue publishing this, please tell me - in other words, please give a review.

This is the proloque and gives you a short glimpse to the (possible) future chapters.

Ps. I'd like to thank the author HighEmpress for encouraging me to start a new multi-fic.

Story: Jetsam (Prologue)

by: Niphrehdil

The rain highlighted the desperate situation.


-Don't talk, Merlin."

The prince looked up and scanned the tower walls and windows around them. The great height could be felt - the air around them was different, thinner - and the hammering adrenaline in his veins made it even more obvious. They were high - very high - and the surrounding darkness and the ominous rain outside made it all much scarier.

Arthur cursed himself. He cursed his own stupidity and everyone who was involved in this.

He shifted his weight on his knees and felt how the icy feeling in his chest grew.

Merlin squeezed his eyes tightly shut and bit his lip.

-..rthur. You got to stop this. " he said, barely audible. His vision was blurry.

The prince didn't even notice how his grip tightened on Merlin's arm, that was slowly fading from sight.

Arthur held his own horror inside, focused on breathing and keeping his sanity together.

-I will. You'll be fine. So will the others. I will reverse this, Merlin." Arthur said, but his voice lost its strength and Merlin's name disappeared into the raging wind.

Because he knew that the options had run dry. His promise was empty.

He was scared. Scared. Arthur Pendragon was scared and the feeling was so powerful that he couldn't deny it, even from himself.

The thick marble walls didn't stop the rain coming inside and it washed over them in violent bursts that the wind sent. They were both soaking wet.

Merlin swallowed once more and leant even more heavily against the wall. He didn't even feel it properly anymore - like his whole body had gone numb and every touch could be felt through a thick curtain.

Which was more or less true.

Swallowing agony and forcing his eyesight to work, Merlin opened his eyes.

The black night surrounded them, and the unnatural rain mauled the castle. The air smelled like desperation. Merlin knew he wasn't completely there anymore - he was being erased, his memories and everything he had ever done and felt were drained from the world.

He was being erased.

He should feel bad. He should be furious and able to act, to do something about this - but he couldn't. He just lay there, his dying magic sensing how the world was sprained - dislocated. The rain felt wrong. The air felt wrong. The castle beneath him felt wrong - and Merlin could sense how it all was changing, slowly adding something that didn't belong and erasing something that did.

Merlin had imagined how he would die. In a fight, saving someone else - but not this.

I'm not even dying, not in the true meaning of the word.

His body was shutting down. Merlin drew shuddering, broken breaths.

He had to close his eyes again, because he couldn't look Arthur in the eyes. The guilt was written all over the prince's face, on his eyes. Merlin looked past Arthur, and saw Nimueh standing there with a cold expression on her face.

Merlin blinked and forced her out of sight. When he opened his eyes again, she was gone. Instead, Merlin could make out the faint form of Will next to the pillars, watching Arthur and then turning his eyes to Merlin. He looked disappointed, and it stung Merlin's heart like a needle.

In one quick blink of an eye, Will was gone too.

Merlin forced his bleary eyes to lock with Arthur's.

We need to do this now. Merlin knew he was slipping away, and fast. Scarily fast.

He couldn't let this happen.

He wasn't going down without a fight, even if its price might soon become high.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Time was running out.

He was running out.