Fire spewed everywhere, an inferno blazing in all directions.Calling up enough water to protect himself, Lancelot pushed through the flames and screaming shadows, running between and over graves, a single large, half-dead tree, until he slammed into the doors of the mausoleum.They flew open, sending him stumbling to his knees, heaving for breath, sweat mingling with ash across his skin, armor, and tunic.He was filthy and smelled liked barbeque, but it was a problem for later.
For the present, he pushed to his feet, unsurprised to see the mausoleum was larger inside than it had looked from the outside.In the very center of an enormous open space was a pentacle drawn in blood, black candles at every point.In the center, chained and muzzled, eyes blazing with fury, was Morgan.Witch of the Shadow, called the Fae because she was so wily and cunning, the woman who had claimed not just King Arthur himself, but also Merlin of the Wild.
Her eyes widened as she saw him, then narrowed.She staredintently, and Lancelot drew to a halt to give the space a closer look around.Of course there'd be traps.Outside, slightly muffled, he could hear the other two fighting Ethelfleda.
He looked around carefully, seeking… there.Perfect.
Taking several steps to the right, remaining well behind the balustrades that marked off the floor where Morgan was currently imprisoned, he stepped into a puddle of water that came up high enough to cover the tops of his boots.It was seeping in from outside, the ground oversaturated now from the deluge.Further confirmation, not that they really needed it, that they were no longer simply in a game.
Lance's eyes fluttered as he sank into the essence of the water, calling more of it to him.Deep waters were his purview, but there was so much rain, so much water with no place to go, that it would heed his gentle requests.
On and on the water came, spilling through every nook and cranny it could find, until the puddle became a pool, rose up and up to cover his boots entirely, up to his thighs, turning the mausoleum into a pond, or maybe a swimming pool.In its center, Morgan's head remained only just barely above water, eyes filled with amusement.
Lancelot dove into the dark and cold, releasing his armor in favor of natural scales, only his clothes and sword remaining as he swam through currents generated by the way the water flowed inside the mausoleum.
Magical traps erupted all around him, but they'd not been crafted with water in mind.Not this kind of water.Faced with a force they did not expect, the traps failed, flames and worse sputtering out, reduced to nothing as they were swept away and lost.
Reaching Morgan, Lancelot drew his dagger and used it to leverage open the locks binding Morgan's chains to the floor.He sliced open the ropes binding her arms next, and pushed away as she took over from there.
Letting his feet rest on the ground, he ran his hands through the water as though stroking a pet, murmuring soft thank yous for all the help and wishing the water well as it went on its way to other, better places.The water burbled and rippled in reply, and then slowly began to lower as it left the mausoleum.
By the time they reached the door, it was down to around his knees, and Morgan was so pissed off she could probably boil it if she wanted.
Out in the graveyard, all was eerily quiet.Still."Merlin!"Lancelot bellowed
"Here!"Merlin replied, and then immediately sounded like he got hit, or thrown, or something else unpleasant.
Morgan climbed up a nearby statue, heedless of the rain and moss making the stone slippery, and threw her arms up."The shadows belong to me, you pustule-ridden harlot!"With a scream, she yanked back her stolen magic, and a flash of lightning showed Ethelfleda collapsing under the force of it.
As Lancelot ran toward them, leaping over graves and never slowing, a battered, bruised Dred heaved to their feet, brandished their sword, and lunged for the fallen Ethelfleda—who vanished at the last moment, sending Dred crashing into a large gravestone and falling back down with a string of curses."Damn it!"
"On the positive side, I assume that means we can leave," Lancelot said, bending over with his hands on his knees to gasp for breath."Wait, Morgan—"
"I'll be fine," Morgan said."Merlin, where—"
"Here!Morgan!"Merlin grabbed a broken gravestone and pulled himself upright just in time to be tackled by Morgan, who splayed across him and showered his face with kisses.Happy for them even as he ached for Galehaut, Lancelot went to help Dred."Just like old times?"
"Too much like," Dred said sourly."I really fucking hate that woman."
"Can't imagine why," Lancelot drawled."She only once nearly succeeded in killing you before kidnapping your sister."
"If I accomplish nothing else in this new life, I will remove that bitch's head."
"Not if I remove it first," Morgan said from where she stood with an arm around Merlin's waist."Let's get the fuck out of here.I want a shower and food."
"How will you get out of wherever they're holding you?"Lancelot asked."They could be poised to simply kill you right now."
Morgan smirked."Funny thing about pocket universes is that as long as you're in one, you can control where you exit, so long as you know what you're doing and have a strong anchor.All I have to do is will myself to stay with Merlin.So let's go."
"Milady," Dred replied as they swept her a bow.
As one, they exited the game.
The Hearth and the Light
"I want Gwen next."
"Lucky for you, I believe that is indeed who we are waking next," Merlin said, regarding Morgan with open affection."But I'm telling Arthur you chose her over him."
