A/N: This won't be a long story. I just needed to write it so that I would get it off my chest. Also because I do want to finish my Initial D based story Planetarium which has NOT been updated in a very long time and I know some people will kill me if I don't do it soon.
Anyway, in spite of what this Prologue promises, fear not, I'm not the BBC so I do like HAPPY ENDINGS.
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, BBC and Shine do. If I did, this is how Series Five would have ended.
Albion's New Age
"Take heart, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again."
Kilgharrah's words resonated in Merlin's head as he watched the Great Dragon flying away. Slowly, with the utmost reverence, the young warlock lowered Arthur's lifeless body onto the ground. He stood up and stared at his King's face and, for one masochistic moment, he let himself drown in the harrowing pain that threatened to consume every fibre of his being.
Arthur was dead.
After everything he'd done, everything he'd sacrificed, Merlin had failed to fulfil his destiny and not even the faraway promise of Arthur's return could make anything alright. Nothing would ever make sense to Merlin without having Arthur by his side.
Letting himself fall onto his knees, he cupped Arthur's face with his hand, placing the other right onto the cold surface of the fallen King's chainmail. Merlin stayed like this for a while, noticing in horror how Arthur's skin became cooler to the touch. Soon it would be as cold as the armour.
Merlin's rational side knew that the only thing he could do was to give Arthur a proper burial and then head back to Camelot so that he could inform Gwen of the tragedy which had fallen upon their Kingdom. He would then place himself at her mercy to do with him what she willed.
Then, his irrational side kicked in. Telling him, no, shouting at him that he still hadn't done everything for Arthur. That he still had one more thing he could use to save his King: his magic.
Racking his brain, he started compiling a list of every incantation he had ever read or heard about trying to find something that he could use. He discarded the enchantments involving the balance of life and death. From personal experience, Merlin knew they were far too vague to be reliable.
He then remembered of an ancient theory he had read about in one of the obscure books which he had found in Gaius' chambers. It spoke of the possibility to transfer the life force from one living creature to another. He knew that the spell required, while extremely simple in its wording, it was the most advanced and powerful kind of magic and that no one had actually attempted to use it before.
Yet again, Merlin doubted any magic-user had ever been as desperate as he was.
He, quite literally, had nothing to lose.
Still on his knees, Merlin placed both of his hands on top of Arthur's chest. Using the unbearable pain caused by the loss of his best friend to fuel his concentration, he let his magic flow from the core of his powers, channelling it through his arms towards his palms. He soon felt the usual white hot fire pulsing in his brain as his eyes turned gold with his magic.
"Edgiefan ælíf," he muttered softly, repeating it over and over again in an endless litany, "edgiefan ælíf, edgiefan ælíf, edgiefan ælíf, edgiefan ælíf, edgiefan ælíf, edgiefan ælíf…"
Merlin was beginning to wonder when he'd know whether the spell was working or not when, all of a sudden, he felt the temperature of his own body drop. Merlin dared to look at Arthur one more time and he gasped at what he saw: the King's body was surrounded by a yellow-ish aura.
The young warlock realised that the aura was coming straight from his palms and, the more he emitted it, the colder he got and he soon started feeling too faint to stay awake. The last sensation his brain registered was a slow but reassuring thumping sound coming from within Arthur's chest. Then, darkness claimed him.
To be continued…