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Arthur slammed his hands down on the table. “We’re just sending them to die!”

Uther looked upon him gravely, but Arthur’s outburst did not startle him in the least. “We have no choice, Arthur. We must continue with this tradition.”

After a moment of staring, trying to bend the other to change his mind, Arthur scoffed and turned away, quickly pacing the length of the hall. “You’re telling me we have no choice but to sacrifice fourteen of our best people every seven years. Some of them are the most loyal people we might ever find. Some of them are our friends. And you won’t even attempt to put an end to it??”

“You were young when it first began,” Uther started.

“I don’t want to hear your explanation again! I know you started this tradition when I was still a child. I know that everyone who leaves on that ship never returns. I know that everyone is certain these people are sailing to their deaths, no matter what you might try to say otherwise. So why do we insist on it? Why not put an end to whatever lies on the other side of their journey?”

“Because we can’t!” Uther stood abruptly with his outburst, the sudden change in tone giving Arthur pause as his brow furrowed. Uther sighed as he sank back into his chair. “Arthur… there are details even you don’t know about this tradition. The last time it happened, you were still a boy. You couldn’t know everything. Please, sit. You’re old enough now to hear the whole story.”

Though his blood still boiled, though he still wanted to make a change and save his people, Arthur did as he was asked. Curiosity had gotten the better of him.

“It was around the time you were born; you were just a babe. I was hunting down a dangerous beast, following it all the way to Crete and the land of King Minos. I didn’t want it to terrorize our lands any longer, not after seeing your face. I knew I had to protect you. My men and I managed to slay it after a difficult and gruesome battle. But what we did not know before then was that the beast had reproduced. In the wake of its parent’s death, the child appeared from where it was hidden nearby, and proved to us that it was just as dangerous as its father. Even more so, perhaps, since we had just slain its family. Many of my men died to the young beast. Many more suffered grievous injuries.”

“How did you make it back alive?” Arthur asked quietly.

“It was King Minos, who had amassed a group of his men to join us, who saved us and managed to defeat the beast. Not kill it, however—no, it seemed the young beast had even greater power than its sire—but subdued. Somehow, nothing we tried would kill the beast. So, King Minos and I decided it best to lock the beast away. He ordered a labyrinth be built, one so confusing and twisted that no one would ever manage to escape from it. The beast was placed at the center of it all, so that it may remain trapped and never bother us again. Other dangerous creatures were trapped in there as well, and the gates were pulled shut. However, it quickly became apparent that this alone was not enough.”

“So you sacrifice people to the labyrinth to appease the beast?”

Uther nodded. “Minos and I both send people into the labyrinth every few years in the hopes that one day, someone will return to tell us everything has finally died, and we no longer have to worry about the wretched beast. There is a grand feast at his palace to celebrate those who are chosen before they are sent into the darkness. Unfortunately, no one has returned so far.”

Arthur pursed his lips, considering Uther’s words. This context did help him understand what happened, but it doesn’t make him feel any better about his people’s sacrifice. “Send me this year.”

“No,” Uther responded immediately, his tone icy. “I will not lose my only son to the beast. That is the one thing I decided—”

“I am a grown man now,” Arthur interrupted, “And can make whatever choice I see fit for myself. Send me in with the group of our people, and I will slay this beast. If its father was vulnerable to your blade, there must be a weakness to exploit on its spawn. I will slay this beast, I will be the one to return from the labyrinth, and I will put an end to the sacrifice of our people.”

“I will not allow it! I forbid you from doing so!”

Arthur looked at him with a crooked smile. “You may be able to control your people that way, Father, but it will not work on me. I have made my decision, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. If you won’t send me on the boat with the rest of the chosen, I will find a way to get to King Minos and the labyrinth myself.”

Uther scowled, but he knew he had lost. “Fine. But I will have something extra prepared for you to take with you. To keep you safe.”

“If that is what it takes for you to send me, then so be it.” Arthur stood up and bowed his head. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to begin preparations.”

~~~

Even docked, the ship still rocked in the waves as Arthur stepped on, briefly losing his balance as he tried to find his footing. Behind him, Uther gave a speech to the crowd around the docks as the chosen filed onto the ship one by one. It seemed half-hearted though. Despite not publicizing the fact that Arthur was going to the labyrinth, the worry could still be heard in Uther’s tone as he watched his only son board a ship for a journey where only the crew ever returned.

Before he knew it, the anchor was raised, the sails were unfurled, and the castle began to quickly fade in the distance as they set off across the sea. The knights running the ship rounded the fourteen of them up and escorted them below deck, showing them to their quarters. One by one, the others were directed to small rooms off the side of the hall, until finally, Arthur was the only person left, and the only remaining door was at the head of the hall.

“Leon,” Arthur said as he pushed inside, the relief of a familiar face lifting a weight from his shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

“Sire,” Leon responded, bowing his head in respect. “Your father wanted to ensure you were equipped the best you could be for what lies ahead. We offer everyone the chance to defend and protect themselves, but we have limited supplies. Your father said to offer you everything.”

“I will only take what the rest of my people are allowed,” Arthur said, squaring his shoulders.

“I had a feeling you would say that. In that case, instead of both the armor and shield, which would you prefer?”

“Armor,” Arthur said without a second thought. “It will last longer, and be better against a beast’s attacks than a shield would be.”

“Alright.” Leon pulled a chainmail shirt out of the nearby chest, along with a simple shoulder pauldron. “As for a weapon, usually, the people are given a choice. However, your father pulled this one specifically out of the vaults for you.” He produced a glittering golden sword, the likes of which Arthur had never seen before. He accepted it from Leon and tested it in his hand. It was impeccably balanced, slicing through the air with ease.

“Why would something like this be locked away?”

Leon shifted and pulled at his collar. “It is my understanding, sire, that this is a magical relic.”

Arthur paused. “Magic? I thought it didn’t exist.”

“It no longer exists,” Leon gently corrected. “However, the beast of the labyrinth, as well as the other monsters locked inside, are magic in nature and, in some cases, origin. Your father thinks that perhaps a blade forged with magic is what you need to slay the beast for good.”

Arthur accepted the sheath and carefully covered the blade. “I will use it with care, then. It must be dangerous to hold magic so close.”

“Be careful in there, sire. I don’t know what the kingdom would do without you.”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Arthur said, flashing a smile. “With all of this to aid me, I’m sure the labyrinth will be a breeze.”

~~~

King Minos welcomed the ship at the docks, thanking the fourteen of them who were going to venture into the maze for their sacrifice. He then led them into the palace where his own chosen subjects waited to be thrown into the labyrinth.

A large feast was laid out in the great hall just for them, and the chosen slowly began to mingle amongst themselves, the servants, and the knights. Arthur, however, wasn’t in such a mood. He accepted a plate of food, loading it with meats and other hearty foods he might lack inside the labyrinth. Who knew when his next meal might be—he had to eat what he could now. He didn’t sit at the table to eat, however. He took his plate over to the windowsill and picked at the food with his fingers, all while looking over the rolling hills of King Minos’s lands.

While he was determined to make it back out of the labyrinth, he had no idea just how big the structure was. It was impossible to say how long he would be stuck inside, without the fresh air. The grass, the stars, the sun, would all be lost to him. More importantly, however, he looked at the gates of the labyrinth. They were built into one of the nearby hills, their imposing metal intricately detailed with many large, complex locks. It was clear they were trying everything to keep the labyrinth sealed tight, so that nothing inside could escape. In the back of his mind, he hoped it meant he could still escape.

“Are you alright over here, sir? Can I offer you more to drink?”

Startled from his thoughts, Arthur looked over to find a servant girl carrying a pitcher, holding it out to him. Her brown, curly hair framed her face as it fell out of the bun she had it in, and dozens of freckles dotted her face. “I’m alright, thank you.”

She looked out the window behind him and frowned. “Are you thinking about the labyrinth? Don’t worry, they won’t manage to get the gates open until tomorrow. It takes a long time to open them, and they only start once your ship lands.”

“You seem to know a lot about them, huh?”

She nodded. “My name is Guinevere, but everyone calls me Gwen. I’ve lived here all of my life, but I still know more about the labyrinth than most. Well, besides those who are sent inside, of course.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “How come?”

“Oh, well… My father helped build it. He designed the gate, actually. So he knows quite a bit about the tunnels. Not as much about the dangers lurking inside, but…”

“Your father helped build it?” Arthur turned towards her more, now invested in her words. “Is there anything you can tell me to help?”

Gwen grimaced and shook her head. “Sorry, but I only know what my father told me, and I don’t think it will be of any help to the chosen. The only thing I could say is… well, I don’t know that it would help.”

“Why?”

She bit her lip. “My father built his portion of the labyrinth only after ensuring I would never be chosen to enter it. Though King Minos accepted, even my father knew better than to trust a monarch wholeheartedly. So, every year that the labyrinth will open, I tuck this ball of yarn into my apron just in case.” She pulled a simple ball of yarn out from under her apron, the wool seemingly woven together several years ago as it now attempted to shed many smaller fibers. “Even if everything is finally dead in the labyrinth, you have to reach its center to confirm. But then that raises another issue—you have to once again traverse the labyrinth to return to the outside. My father told me to tie one end of the yarn to the inside of the gate, and to let it unravel as I traveled. That way I had a path to follow back, assuming I survived to the end in the first place.”

Arthur had an idea. “You’re not going this year, are you?” When she shook her head, he said, “Can I use your string?”

Gwen hesitated. “My father told me to use this specific string. I think it might be just long enough to reach the center, and… I don’t know how long that is. If you don’t return, and I am picked…”

He gently took a hold of her hand in his, careful not to touch the wool so that it didn’t appear like he was trying to take it. “Gwen, I promise you that I will return it. I will return this year. I volunteered to be sent into the labyrinth for Camelot, as I intend to finish off the beast once and for all to stop this nonsensical slaughter. Then, instead of holding it for a rainy day, you can put the wool to better use.”

“Do you really think you’ll succeed? You’re not the first I’ve seen who claimed they would slay the beast.”

“And I’m sure they were all arrogant and boastful too, had too much to drink during the feast, and walked in with a headache and a dry mouth. Do I seem like the type?”

She hesitated once more, but after taking a deep breath, she let the wool fall into Arthur’s waiting hands. “Please be careful, sir.”

“It’s Arthur,” he said with a smile. “And thank you, Gwen. Your trust means more to me than you know.”

~~~

They were woken early in the morning, and lined up one by one. A small crowd gathered by the gates, watching as the last of the locks unwound, waiting for the gate to open. A group of armed soldiers stood ready nearby, just in case something was lurking just on the other side of the door.

Arthur, somehow, ended up as the last one in line. He had dressed himself this morning—chainmail shirt, shoulder pauldron, and sword belt—but even that accomplishment felt dim as the doors towered above them. Up close, it was clear they were built to contain any creature—but there was a smaller seam on the door that was just big enough for a person, the bar across it still pulling back to let it open.

He paid no mind to King Minos’s speech—he could hardly hear it, even if he could pay attention to it. Instead, he fidgeted with the ball of wool, which he had stashed just under his belt to make it look like his stomach. Along with the chainmail that hung loosely from his shoulders, it was almost impossible to tell he was bringing anything extra in.

A hush fell over the crowd when the small door finally swung open, and Arthur’s heart began to race in anticipation. A servant stepped up to the King’s side, offering an unlit torch to the first of the chosen, and King Minos said something to her before gesturing to the brazier next to him, in which she lit the torch. She then entered the labyrinth, the light from her torch illuminating the entrance that was quickly swallowed by the endless darkness beyond.

Slowly but surely, the line began to enter the labyrinth, sitting through a speech from King Minos before lighting their torch and stepping inside. It felt like forever before it was finally Arthur’s turn, and he accepted the unlit torch with sweaty palms.

“May the light guide your way through the labyrinth,” King Minos began. “May it bring you to the end unscathed, and return you to us so that we might all partake in celebrating the good news. Be safe on your journey, chosen, but be wary. This is not something those who are faint of heart can handle. All manner of creatures have been locked away in the labyrinth in an attempt to kill the beast, and some may still lurk, hoping to make you their next meal. Stay vigilant. When you return, you need only to press this ring into a seal on the door—it will begin to unlock the doors once more, upon which we can gather and rejoice your return. Go, explore the labyrinth, and return home to us a hero.”

Arthur accepted the ring and slipped it onto his finger before dipping the torch into the brazier. The fire flickered in the corner of his eye as he turned towards the door, and he stepped forward before any ounce of hesitation could seep in and try to hold him back.

Once inside, he was alarmed by how dark the tunnel was. Even though there were twenty-seven other people inside, even though he had his own torch to light the way, it seemed to illuminate very little, not even the cavernous ceiling visible. Then, as if to scare him from the beginning, the door swung closed with so much force the sound was deafening, and it continued to echo off of the walls for ages. Now he was truly alone with just a small area of light to accompany him.

Arthur pulled the wool from his waistband and sat the torch down on a patch of dry dirt, working quickly to tie it off on a bar of metal sticking out from this side of the door. He gave it a few tugs to test its strength and ensure it wouldn’t break off, only tucking the wool back into the side of his waistband when he was satisfied. There, it could unravel as he walked, and he could keep his hands free for his torch and sword.

Speaking of, he retrieved his torch once more and drew his sword, taking a cautious first few steps to see how loud he might be and to know what to listen for if there was anything or anyone nearby. Some gravel did crunch under his feet, but it wasn’t anything he could lessen with slow and cautious steps. It was certainly a good sign for him too as it meant any creature approaching would certainly make some sort of noise that he would notice before he could see them, giving him a small advantage. In this kind of place, however, even a small advantage was huge.

After walking through the hall and coming to the first crossroads, Arthur was suddenly glad for the string. Though it was clear where he had come from now as it lay behind him, there were three other passages now open before him, waiting for him to choose. None of them had any kind of identifiable marking, either. Without the string it would be all too easy to get lost in here, the labyrinth taking you in dizzying circles until you fell from starvation or were killed by a beast.

Instead of just picking a random path and following it, Arthur chose to inspect the ground before each one. He could discern the fresh footprints of those that entered before him, and found no other strange or concerning markings in the ground. Though he couldn’t get a proper count of how many had chosen which tunnel, he decided to go with the path most chosen. Though he felt awful for thinking it, traveling the most-used path meant it was more likely to avoid monsters, as they were either already slain by those who passed before, or too full from eating them to pay him any mind.

The chosen path quickly turned into a sharp decline, and Arthur had to walk sideways with small steps to ensure he wouldn’t slide down it—like one of the previous chosen before him, it seemed, since there was an indent in the ground about the size of a person, and it trailed from near the beginning of the incline all the way to the bottom.

Arthur continued forward, briefly wondering if he would catch up to anyone at all, or if he would truly be alone until the end of the labyrinth. He didn’t have to wait for long, however, as a woman’s shrill scream pierced the air and echoed off of the stone walls.

Forgetting all pretense of trying to be quiet, Arthur rushed forward, instincts and adrenaline kicking in. Someone was in danger, and it was his duty to help or die trying. The scream echoed again, this time followed by a loud roar. There was definitely something dangerous still lurking here, and it was attacking one of his fellow chosen.

As he hurried to reach the noise, a bright, fiery light appeared up ahead, coming from one of two roads further into the labyrinth. Arthur squinted as he ran towards it, but it was gone by the time he turned the corner. Instead, just a little ways down was one of the chosen, still holding her torch, a trembling sword sticking out from her other hand.

“What happened?”

She jumped and wheeled around on Arthur, pointing the sword at him before realizing he wasn’t a threat. The sword fell from her hand, clattering against the gravel. “I don’t know what happened. I ran into a… a… thing, and it started chasing me, and when I turned back around to fight, it just…” She trailed off and gestured behind her.

Arthur took the opportunity to step closer, seeing quite an unusual sight before him. The blackened corpse of a monster lay in the middle of the hall, red embers still sizzling around the base of its body. Arthur stepped up to the wall and ran his fingers against the stone, collecting ash that had burnt the wall and rubbing his fingers together.

“Perhaps it secreted some kind of oil,” he decided. “It marked itself and its territory with it, and once your torch came close enough, it set the whole tunnel ablaze.”

“I hadn’t thought of that….” She frowned. “It does sound like the most likely scenario.”

“Regardless, this encounter doesn’t bode well for the rest of the labyrinth,” Arthur mused. “It’s unlikely the beast has died if something like that still lives.”

“Should we turn around then? Return to the city and let them know the tunnels are still infested?”

Arthur shook his head. “The beast is the thing they care about. We must make it to the center and find out. I am determined to slay the thing and rid us of its presence once and for all.”

She gulped, but nodded her agreement. “I think… I’m just going to take a break here for a moment.” She leaned against the wall and slowly sank to the floor. “You go on ahead without me.”

Arthur nodded and turned around, deciding it better to choose the other tunnel rather than see if any more of those creatures were waiting down the hall.

~~~

Without the sun, it was hard to know exactly how much time had passed. Arthur was sure it was far too long, though. Especially as his stomach began to growl, begging for something to eat. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for armor; it seems to have only slowed him down, forcing him to work harder to keep quiet. What would have been better to ask for was a supply pack, full of enough food and water to last him a few days. Even then, he could probably stretch it out to last a few weeks. He blinked wearily—he hoped he wouldn’t be that long.

Still, the yarn continued to trail behind him, a good sign since it meant he was making more progress. Even so, he did have to backtrack a few times after he hit a dead end, pulling the yarn back out and winding it back up until he reached the previous crossroads. But it was fine. Everything was fine.

Arthur paused at another crossroads, squinting down each tunnel to see which one he was going to choose. He was used to not seeing far, and was beginning to grow weary of his sputtering torch. However, he couldn’t deny the small orange dot he could see off to his right. Against his better judgment he began to trudge after it, hoping to find another one of the chosen.

Luckily, his instinct was correct. He could identify the light as a flame only a few steps into the tunnel, and he could begin to make out the body of the man after a few more. He walked a little faster upon seeing this, making his steps a little louder on purpose so the man wouldn’t startle upon his approach.

He turned when he heard Arthur’s feet crushing the gravel underfoot, and relief flooded his face as he waved him over. “You have no idea how relieved I am to see a friendly face in this hellhole.”

“Likewise,” Arthur chuckled, coming to a stop nearby. “What seems to be the holdup?”

“Oh, well…” He frowned and turned back towards the wall. “I’m not really sure? There was a path down here, I’m sure of it. I’m sure I started down it too, but then a monster dropped down from the ceiling and blocked my way. I ran away because I forgot to pull out my axe, and… well, when I turned back around, there was a wall. It’s almost like the tunnel never existed in the first place.”

Arthur frowned and approached the wall in question, running his hands over the rough stone and searching for seams. It seemed flawlessly joined, however, as if it was always a single, smooth wall.

“Sorry, but I don’t see any proof of it being anything other than a wall.”

“What about my footprints?” the man pointed out. “They go right up to it!”

“We have been here for a while. Have you gotten any rest since we entered? Delirium hallucinations do happen. Perhaps you simply walked up to the wall, had a vision, and after breaking eye contact with it, it stopped.”

“I know what I saw,” he muttered before rubbing his eyes, “but maybe you’re right. I’ll… go find a place to take a break. Behind us though—I don’t want to risk running into another one of those things again.”

“Then this is where we part,” Arthur said with a small bow of his head. “May your luck find you better times on a different path.”

“And may it do the same to you.”

The man hurried off back in the direction Arthur had come from, then turned down one of the other paths at the intersection. Arthur watched until he was out of sight before turning and beginning his own path again.

Unfortunately, after a few more steps, his torch sputtered one last time and went out, plunging him into darkness. Shit.

~~~

Arthur wiped the sweat from his brow before returning his hand to the cool, unpolished stone wall and inching forward.

It was the only way he could get around the labyrinth now; without a torch, his vision was worthless. Even after his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he could barely see his fingers in front of him. In fact, the best thing he could see was his sword in front of him, the gold seemingly brighter than everything else just because it was surrounded by darkness.

Every time the wall ended and he found a new tunnel, he would count the walls to see how many potential routes there were. One, two, three, and then the fourth was where he just was. The most useless one was when a hall simply had a sharp left, meaning he could feel the other two walls and nearly began to walk backwards along the third wall, looking for another tunnel before realizing he had gone too far.

He still made progress though, and the ball of yarn slowly grew smaller. Soon, he would reach his goal, slay the monster, and then he only needed to pull on the string to find his way back out. It would be much easier to return than it was to navigate the tunnels right now.

Though his system worked in the darkness, he still ran into a few issues. Namely, the labyrinth’s dead ends. When the wall he was following ended at another wall, he could only hope the third wall was open. If not, he had to follow it back out to the last intersection with only the string as a guide, and only the string telling him what direction he even came from originally, so choose another path. Truly, he would be lost without the string.

One such time, as he was rolling the yarn back up, he suddenly stopped cursing under his breath as he thought he had heard something nearby. There was no sound for a few moments after he froze so he took another cautious step forward, hearing skittering following the crunch of gravel under his foot.

Arthur gripped his sword tighter, straining his eyes as he desperately fought to see what was in front of him. After a few more moments without a sound, he took another cautious step forward. This time, the scuttering returned alongside a loud, piercing and inhuman cry. Something rushed toward Arthur, the sound unmistakably getting closer. He swung his sword out wildly in front of him, thrashing the air up and down to reach any and all potential threats, and felt the sword slice through the hard, chitinous layer of a giant bug. It crunched loudly as he split the creature open, and he felt its warm blood splatter his pants.

More cries sounded out at the murder, and Arthur gripped his sword tighter. Slash down low, got it.

Another bug approached from the right side of the tunnel, so Arthur turned and swung his sword low, catching it in the leg and throwing it off balance before the flat of his blade crushed it like he might crush a normal bug underfoot. More skittering, and another one lost its tail before it lost its shell, its insides oozing onto the floor as Arthur stepped past it.

The cries, however, continued to sound out, spreading forward. It seemed he had stumbled into a swarm of large bugs—or, since he had just been in a dead end, they had stumbled into him. He licked at his dry lips, mentally preparing himself for what he had to do, and with a breath, broke out into a run after killing the next bug.

He could hear their cries surrounding him, but he didn’t have time to think about it. He had to keep his hand on the wall to make sure he didn’t run into it, but he had to keep slicing too, clearing the way for himself. At one point he felt more than heard the full shell of a live bug crush under the weight of his foot, the smell foul and lingering as he continued to press forward.

Just as he believed he was beginning to outrun them, something struck Arthur’s leg and he fell to the ground in pain. His pants were cut and his leg was bleeding, his fingers coming back sticky as he touched the spot.

There was no time to think, though. He turned around to slice through the creature before it could strike him again, but it jumped on his chest and pushed him over on the floor. The surprise and impact knocked the wind from his lungs and the yarn from his hand. With only enough time to process one thing happening, he lifted his sword and cut through the creature, whose claws luckily couldn’t reach him through the armor. With a sickening crunch, and a warm liquid covering Arthur that made a chill run down his spine, the creature was quickly killed.

He pushed the corpse off of his chest and sprung to his hands and knees, his hands searching the ground around him for the missing yarn. Gravel, gravel, gravel, gravel—where is it??

The sound of the swarm grew closer once more, and though it pained Arthur, he had no choice. He had to leave it, or risk being overrun by the creatures.

With the wool now a missing tool in his belt, he pulled himself to his feet and began to run away once more, following the wall and making the first turn he could out of there to put as much distance between himself and them as he could.

~~~

As soon as the cries of the bugs had stopped, Arthur had paused to catch his breath and rip some cloth off of his undershirt to wrap around the wound, hoping the pressure would help stem the bleeding at the very least. He began forward once more on shaky legs, now having run out of any way to see or know what direction he was going. He was well and truly lost, and going forward was all he could do. He just had to hope he wasn’t taking himself in circles.

Of course, Arthur’s luck could only continue to get worse. If he had a torch, he would have known not to walk into the furry wall just inside one of the tunnels, but instead, he had no choice but to do that very thing. It of course woke the large beast up, who didn’t take very kindly to being poked with Arthur’s toothpick of a sword—compared to it, at least.

It swiped at him and threw him into the tunnel wall, causing Arthur to groan out in pain as he struggled to find the strength to stand again. Instead, he ended up rolling out of the way of the pounce attack, once again finding himself behind the creature and discovering an advantage. A small section of the gravel had been cleared off, pushed to the side to reveal the dirt underneath. As it turned out, the creature was blind in the darkness and relied on hearing and feeling Arthur to attack. It swung wildly around in the air and tried to sniff Arthur out of his hiding spot, but Arthur was instead slowly crawling away behind him, as quiet as a mouse on the dirt floor.

The distance grew between them, but soon, Arthur ran out of dirt to crawl on. He found a hefty stone lying on the ground and picked it up, carefully getting to his feet and weighing it gently in his hand before pulling back his arm and throwing it with all the strength he could muster. It landed further up the tunnel from the creature, and upon hearing it land and skid across the ground, it began to sprint in that direction, hoping to catch up with its invisible prey.

Arthur waited until the sound of its running was distant before breaking into a run himself in the opposite direction. He didn’t hear it following, which was a good sign, but waited for several tunnel turns before he even thought of slowing down. It was then that Arthur stumbled to the ground, holding his side. His ribs felt bruised from the impact against the wall, and as he doubled over and fought to catch his breath, he noticed the makeshift bandage on his leg was already almost entirely soaked in blood.

He slid against the wall to the ground. Was this really the end? So close, yet so, so far. He wouldn’t even manage to slay the beast, let alone return home to his kingdom. He had made so many promises. He had to keep them. And yet, fate might not give him the choice.

The sound of hooves suddenly came to Arthur’s ears, and he grimaced as he shifted to grip his sword tighter. Maybe this beast would pass him by without noticing. It was all he could hope for, really—he wasn’t sure he had the energy to stand and fight. As the sound grew closer, Arthur forced his breathing to quiet down, trying to be as easy to miss as possible. In the darkness, maybe he’d be safe.

When the creature finally approached him, he could see what looked like two normal horse legs appear from the darkness. They paused nearby, and the creature let out an undeniably horse-like whinny. Arthur’s brow furrowed—why would there be a horse this far inside the labyrinth?

Its head lowered and sniffed at Arthur, and as he reached out to try and push it away, he spotted the shadow of what was undeniably a horn growing out of the middle of the horse’s forehead.

“A unicorn,” he breathed, petting the creature’s snout and earning a huff of air and a shake of its mane. “Please… I need help. Is there anything you can do?”

It whinnied again and turned back around, whipping Arthur’s face with its tail. He sputtered in surprise but looked up to find the unicorn staring back at him, almost as if waiting expectantly.

Arthur used the wall to stand again, and then wrapped his arm around the unicorn’s neck, leaning heavily on the creature to help him walk. They moved slowly through the hall together, the clopping of hooves echoing off the walls their only other company. Soon, however, Arthur heard another noise that sparked hope in the back of his mind—the gurgling sound of running water.

The ground grew softer underfoot, and the unicorn led him to the bank of an underground river. Arthur’s sword slipped from his hand as he dropped to his knees, watching the unicorn take a long drink from the dark water before dipping his own hands into it.

It was icy cold, a shock at first, but as he scooped it up and brought it to his face, he relished the chill as it soothed his dry, scratching throat. He leaned over much like the horse and drank handful after handful until he had finally sated his thirst. He then washed his face in it, using the chill temperature to try and help wake up, and used his renewed energy to peel back the bandage and clean his wound in the water. After, he tore a new piece of cloth from his shirt and tied it back around the wound, hoping it would hold up better now that it was cleaned.

As he leaned against the wall to rest for a moment, he began to see light in the cave. Strange, as he had not heard anyone else nearby for it to be another chosen. Even stranger too, because unlike the bright orange of a fire, this was blue and white, like the reflection of the moon off of the dancing waves. Perhaps a hallucination from his lack of sleep?

“Worry not, young prince,” a voice suddenly said from nowhere, and as Arthur blinked, faces began to appear in the lights. “This is a safe place for all who are deemed worthy.”

“How do you know who I am?” he asked, glancing down at his sword and wondering if he shouldn’t have discarded it.

“We know many things,” they said, hovering in the air above the water. “We are the Vilia, the water spirits that inhabit the river you rest before now. You have come to free the outside world of the beast within the heart of the labyrinth, and in doing so, free us. It has been a long time coming, and the beast grows tired. Please, let us escort you along the banks of the river so that you might reach your destination. We will keep you safe as long as you stay with us.”

Though Arthur was hesitant to trust them—and still trying to figure out if they were indeed real—he slowly got to his feet once more and retrieved his sword before sheathing it in an act of trust. They floated around him and he felt a strange surge of energy.

The unicorn stayed behind as Arthur walked into the darkness, using the small light the Vilia gave off to keep himself from stepping into the water. There wasn’t much else he could see, but he did give them his trust, and it was certainly a path he hadn’t been on before. He could tell that even without the wool.

As they walked in silence, Arthur felt his stomach growl—a feeling he had fought desperately to ignore, but one now screaming for his attention in this moment of peace. “You wouldn’t happen to know of any food nearby, would you?”

“You may find food up ahead,” they answered, “Assuming he is willing.”

“He?” They did not respond to his question. He sighed and continued on in silence. At least the possibility of food was more promising than nothing.

Before he knew it, an orange glow could be seen along the bank in the distance—unmistakably the light of a fire. He didn’t ask questions about it this time, but soon could see its source was a large brazier, not the torch of another chosen. Now that he thought about it, they all should have burnt out by now, anyway.

Arthur welcomed the heat of the brazier as they approached, pausing for a moment, but the Vilia continued forward without him, so he had no choice but to follow. They passed another brazier, and another, and the ground shifted from gravel to paving stones, solid and quiet underfoot.

Another pang shot through Arthur’s leg from the wound, and he fell to his knee in surprise, gripping the wound tightly. This time, he could see that the bandage had a green tint to it. Venom.

The sound of chains rattled nearby. “Are you alright, friend?”

Arthur turned at the sudden new voice, finding another human next to him, kneeling down. The man had tousled brown hair, bright blue eyes, and the palest skin Arthur had ever seen. “Who are you?”

“Someone who wants to help,” the man replied, concern wrinkling his brows. “What creature did this to you?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted, the pain still intense even as he held pressure on the wound. “It was dark, but it was definitely some sort of large bug.”

“A Serket, I presume,” he muttered. “Come, rest against the wall. I may have something to help.”

“Save yourself,” Arthur said, even as the man helped pull him over to the wall. “I can hear the chains rattling. The beast is close. Get out while you still can.”

“The beast won’t harm us.” Arthur didn’t know who this man was, but there was something in his voice that was so determined, so sure, that Arthur believed him.

The man moved away once Arthur was resting against the wall, and Arthur was glad to see another living person in the labyrinth. But—the man had helped him move across the floor, right? He had felt his touch? There was no way this one could be a hallucination, even if the man somehow seemed to make it this far into the labyrinth unscathed. Even so, company was not enough to let Arthur rest, not when he could hear the rattling of chains nearby. Not when he knew the beast was so close.

“Here, eat this,” the man said, capturing Arthur’s attention immediately. He pushed a warm bowl into Arthur’s hands.

Arthur’s stomach rumbled and he began to drink the soup without a second thought, without even thinking about what could happen from taking unknown food from an unknown stranger.

As if he could read his thoughts, the man said, “My name is Merlin. The soup might make you drowsy—might make you sleep altogether, in the state you’re in. But don’t fight it. It will help you recover, and you will need all your strength for when you fight the beast.”

Arthur paused and furrowed his brow. “How did you know?”

Merlin hushed him and pushed the bowl back in his face. “Eat. We will talk more when you have recovered.”

As if on cue, Arthur’s stomach rumbled again, grateful to finally have something to digest. He couldn’t ignore the cries of his insides, so Arthur did what he was told. He finished the soup in record time, barely even chewing the chunks inside of it. He sat the bowl to the side and indeed quickly felt like he needed to sleep. In fact, he felt like he had to sleep. Though he attempted to keep his eyes open, the last thing he saw was the blurry face of Merlin through his eyelashes before his eyes closed for good.

He wasn’t sure how long he was out for, but it was certainly a good length of time, and one he apparently desperately needed. Arthur woke to the same setting—the paving stone floor, the fieldstone walls, the warm brazier nearby. And this time, among the nearby rattle of chains, he could hear the scraping of a bowl.

He sat up to see Merlin in the dark corner of the room, mixing something up in a bowl as he approached Arthur. “Ah, finally awake, are we? I didn’t expect you to be out for that long.”

“What is that?”

Merlin knelt by Arthur’s leg, hushing him. “It’s medicine. It’s going to help your wound, now that I managed to get rid of the venom.”

“Where did you get it?”

He chuckled darkly. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. Just accept the treatment, and eat your breakfast.”

Arthur turned to see another bowl next to him—not as full as the first one, but certainly more than he had seen throughout the entirety of the labyrinth. This time, it seemed to be a mixture of fruits, which he greedily ate. He realized too late that he didn’t ask Merlin if he needed any, but there was nothing left. Hopefully, that wasn’t the last of the food Merlin had with him.

“There,” Merlin said, the green paste now covering Arthur’s wound where he had wrapped the bandage previously. “Give it some time to set, and it will harden into a bandage of its own. Then, when it cracks off, you should be healed enough to not need anything covering it.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said. “Truly. You have no idea what this means to me.”

“Don’t mention it,” Merlin said as he stood, returning to the corner and setting the bowl aside.

Arthur watched as he shuffled away, and studied his face as he sorted through the materials he had amassed in his small corner. It seemed like Merlin had been here for a while, certainly longer than Arthur. Though Arthur had not really mingled with the chosen at the feast, he was sure he would have recognized Merlin had he been there. Additionally, he didn’t remember anyone having any kind of supply pack like Merlin seems to have had when he entered.

“How long have you been here?” Arthur asked suddenly, his mouth saying it before his mind could catch up to his train of thought and stop him.

Merlin froze, looking over at him frostily. Then, with a sigh, he said, “There is no way of telling time in the labyrinth.”

Arthur nodded, forgetting the same dilemma he had. “If you had to guess?”

He shrugged. “Too long to count.”

As Arthur watched, Merlin began to sort through his things again, and Arthur could recognize the slight pained look in his eyes this time. Even in the dark corner, he could tell the palms of his hands were red—far more red than they were ever supposed to be. “Did you burn your hands?”

“What?” Merlin looked up, startled this time, and immediately clenched his fists, hiding his palms. That same pained expression crossed his face again, and Arthur sighed. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Merlin shot back. “It’s none of your concern.”

“Come on then. Let me see them.”

“No, wait!”

Arthur had leaned over, propping himself on his hand to push off of the ground, but paused when Merlin said to.

“The cast isn’t dry yet. You’ll mess it up if you move now.”

Arthur sighed. “Then don’t make me get up. Come over here, and let me see your hands.”

Though hesitantly, Merlin looked from his hands to Arthur a few times before reluctantly standing again, crossing the room quietly amidst a new round of shaking chains. He knelt beside Arthur and presented his hands as requested.

“What happened?” Arthur asked softly, taking Merlin’s hands in his own and examining the shiny red skin and even the blister bubbling up on the edge of his thumb. Arthur had burned himself once—knocked over a brazier during an impromptu practice/sword fight. He remembered how red his skin got just from the few seconds the coals touched him—he can’t imagine what Merlin did to cause this.

“It’s… complicated,” Merlin managed, clearly hesitant to give the reason.

“Did you have to heat my medicine up? Did you get too close to the brazier? Was this because of me?”

“...Maybe?”

Arthur sighed. “Go stick your hands in the river. It will help.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Arthur rolled his eyes. “What’s stopping you?”

“I…” Merlin trailed off, unable to look Arthur in the eye. He bit his lip and then said, “I’m scared of the water. I can’t see what’s inside.”

Arthur nodded his understanding. He knew plenty of men and women in Camelot who would never step foot on a ship for that very reason. “Alright then. What about the Vilia? Are they still around? Can they help?”

“You know the Vilia?” Merlin asked, intrigued. “I didn’t know they had shown themselves to you. Usually, they’re rather reserved.”

“They did. Can they help?”

Merlin called out to them, and they slowly appeared over the river across the room the same way they formed when Arthur first saw them. Though their forms seemed intangible, a few of them surrounded a chipped vase on the ground and lifted it just off of the ground before dropping it into the water. It bubbled as the air inside escaped, making room for the water rushing in, making the only sound in the vicinity for a few moments. Once the bubbles ceased, they lifted the vase once more and carried it off shore, the outside dripping on the stones as they brought it just into Arthur’s reach and vanished once more.

Arthur took the vase and a nearby bowl, dumping the cool, clear water into it before setting both back down on the ground. Then, without asking, he grabbed one of Merlin’s hands and lowered it into the bowl, ensuring the whole irritated area was submerged.

“There. Doesn’t that feel better?”

“It does help a little,” Merlin admitted with a small chuckle, sitting back on his haunches.

“I bet if you put some of that medicine you have on your hands too, it will help even more. Unless it will cause you to burn yourself again—in that case, don’t.”

Merlin smiled gently, looking down at their hands submerged together in the bowl. A small tear welled in the corner of his eye, and he tried to wipe it away discreetly, but Arthur noticed nonetheless.

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked gently.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Merlin tried to wave away, blinking back more tears. “It’s just… I’m not sure anyone has ever treated me with such kindness.”

Arthur scoffed. “Come on, that can’t be true. Look at what you’ve done for me: I can’t imagine you could show that kindness to others and be refused the same treatment.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t know me,” Merlin said more firmly.

A pause hung in the air for a moment. “You’re right. I don’t. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Merlin sighed. “Sorry. It’s just—Life hasn’t been very kind to me.”

“But look at how far into the labyrinth you have come! The beast lay right around the corner, waiting to be conquered. Surely that counts for something, right?”

“Sure,” he chuckled darkly. “Just wait until you find out what the beast is.”

“Is that your problem? Why you have stayed all this time? Did you intend to slay the beast too, to rid the world of this curse, but couldn’t do it in the end?”

Merlin considered his words as they switched hands, dunking his other hand into a fresh batch of cold water to help soothe the burns. “I have considered it on several occasions, yes. But nothing ever came of it.”

“How come?”

He shrugged. “Lack of proper tools? Cowardice? The thought that once I went through with it, that was it, and there was no more? I don’t know.”

Arthur nodded solemnly. “If you’re not prepared to fight, to kill, even a beast can be intimidating. The knights never come into the labyrinth, the ones best equipped with the skills and knowledge to fight such a beast. Perhaps that is what has held you back.”

Merlin shook his head and pulled his hand out of the bowl. “Go ahead and drink the rest,” he said, waving towards the half-full vase and turning away. “You need to gather your strength. The finale is approaching.”

Arthur didn’t question him as Merlin freed himself from Arthur’s grip, but he did watch him return to the corner once more to sulk. At least he seemed to cover his hands in something he had over there—hopefully it would help with the burns. Arthur hated knowing Merlin had hurt himself so badly just trying to help him.

He drank the water, and was relieved when Merlin said he could move again by the time the food and drink caught up with his bowels. What he wasn’t expecting when he returned from around the corner, however, was to find Merlin at the center of the room, offering Arthur his discarded sword.

“The time has come,” Merlin said, his voice serious and grave. “The Vilia told me you intended to slay the beast while you slept after you first arrived. Now that you have rested and recovered, you are ready. It is time to fulfill your destiny.”

Arthur accepted the sword reverently, the golden sword glittering in the nearby firelight. He then looked around the room, confused. “Where’s the tunnel to the center of the maze?”

Merlin chuckled before spreading out his arms. “Haven’t you noticed by now? You’re already here.”

“No…” Arthur desperately scanned the walls for another entrance. “There’s supposed to be a great beast here in the center. One who killed many of my father’s men, not to mention the number of men the beast’s father killed.”

Merlin lowered his arms and lifted his pant leg before kicking his foot out to the side. A large shackle held tightly onto his ankle, a chain appearing behind it from where he kicked out. As deadpan as he could muster, Merlin looked Arthur in the eyes and said, “Rawr.”

“How could you—what about—I don’t understand.”

“You were never meant to understand. Prince Arthur, Uther’s perfect little babe. Do you think your father just randomly chose people amongst your population? Do you think he didn’t try to stop you for a reason? In fact, you said it yourself earlier, didn’t you? No knight was ever chosen to be thrown into the labyrinth. Did you never wonder why?”

“I was certain my father had his reasons,” Arthur defended.

“Yes, of course he did. He and King Minos created this labyrinth as a prison. Not for a beast, not particularly, but for magic. Surely you had to notice by now. Did you run into any of the others sent in here during your journey? Did they not display or show signs of having magic?”

Arthur thought back to the woman and the charred monster corpse, and the man who claimed a wall suddenly appeared between him and a monster. He had found logical reasons for them to have happened, but looking back… he would be lying if he said he didn’t think it was possible they had used magic.

“But what about the beast? The first one my father fought, the one he tracked across the sea?”

“My father,” Merlin said dryly, “whose corpse you can find over there.”

He gestured across the room, by the bank of the river, where a gleaming white skull sat in the gravel. A gleaming white human skull.

“Your father went on a tirade against magic when you were born. He chased my father down across the sea to tie up the last loose end—and then he found out he had a son. A son who, for all intents and purposes, seems to be immortal. Your father couldn’t kill a baby, Arthur. And so he decided to lock me up for all eternity instead. And then, to make himself look good, claim he locked up a powerful beast. Ever since then, he sent in those who were suspected to have magic to be imprisoned with me, hoping every last one of us would die.”

Arthur swallowed thickly. “I still don’t understand.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and turned around, exasperated, looking at the ceiling as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “What more can I say, Arthur?! Your father is not the person you thought he was. You signed up to kill a person, not a monster. Now will you just get on with it already?”

He took a step back. “I beg your pardon?”

“Go on then, beg,” Merlin scowled, casting a glare over his shoulder. “Your father may not have been able to keep you from coming in here, but he ensured you would be able to get out, assuming you survived. He gave you the ring I hear is the only way back out of the labyrinth, for starters. And he gave you a magical sword, the one known thing in the world that can kill an immortal. So go ahead. Stab me through the chest. Slice my head off. I don’t care how you do it, just get it over with. End my misery.”

“But you’re not a beast! You’re just a man!”

“I am magic,” Merlin said as he turned back around abruptly, his shoulders squared in defiance. “I am no ordinary man. If it is a beast you want, however, I can see what I can do.”

Merlin frowned and cocked his head, a flash of gold in his eyes before his features began to shift. His fingers grew longer, sharper. Bright silver shimmering scales sprouted across his face, and he hissed as his canines grew into large fangs and his pupils shifted into slits.

Amidst the transformation, however, steam began to rise from the parts of Merlin that had begun to change. He howled in pain and as quickly as the transformation had begun, he reverted back to his normal self. He held his hands and stumbled backwards, the red burns now covering the back of his hands too. On his face, where there had been scales, there were now fresh red welts.

He sank to the floor as he cradled his hands, defeat clear on his face. “Cold iron,” he chuckled, shaking his chained leg again. “Suppresses magic. Can’t do much with it on or I get this in return. Even burned my hands trying to heal you earlier. Much good that did me, huh.”

Arthur stepped closer, his shadow quickly enveloping the now shrunken Merlin. He gripped his sword tightly.

“Please,” Merlin begged, his lips cracked from the magic backlash. “End my suffering. This is no way to live. I can’t go on any longer.”

Arthur looked him over, once again studying him, but noticing so much more this time. The bags under his eyes. The red lines around his shackle, as if he tried and failed many times to pull it off. Just how skinny and frail the man truly was. And most of all, the despair plain as day in his blue eyes as he looked up at Arthur. He had been alone, trapped in the labyrinth, all his life. The only company he had were the Villa, who probably had to teach him how to speak, how to do anything for himself. He knew nothing of the outside world, had never seen any of the things Arthur missed so dearly.

His mind made up, Arthur raised his sword. Merlin closed his eyes and looked away, but a small smile still crept across his face nonetheless, joined by a single tear racing its way down his cheek.

Arthur swung. The sword came crashing down with a loud clang. In one swift movement, the chain was cleaved in two, separating Merlin from the wall.

The following explosion was not expected—a burst of energy threw everything and everyone across the room and into the closest wall. Braziers were knocked over and extinguished, Merlin’s supply pile scattered and shattered, and both men were tossed into the walls.

It definitely wasn’t a pleasant feeling, being tossed into the wall. Arthur definitely hit his head, and it throbbed as he shook the shock away. He sat up, dazed, and tried to force his eyes to adjust to the darkness. There was one thing he could clearly see laying nearby—the cleaved chain, with a manacle now broken in half as well.

Merlin shifted on the other side of the room and Arthur froze, unsure of what was going to happen. He heard Merlin mutter under his breath, unsure of what language he was even speaking, and began to fear the worst.

With a burst of light, three flying orbs escaped from Merlin’s hands, settling above them and bathing the room in a white glow. Merlin smiled, his lips stretching almost painfully wide, as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Arthur relaxed and leaned back against the wall, letting himself have a moment to recover from the blast. One of the orbs lowered closer to him, its wisps disappearing into the air as it seemed to continuously spin in circles.

“Why?” Merlin asked, his voice clear as day even with the low tone from across the room.

“You didn’t deserve this,” Arthur answered. “No one does. A life without sun, without grass, without music, without people—that’s not a life. And I couldn’t let you die without experiencing any of it.”

“Your father will be furious that you let me escape.”

“Who said you were escaping alone?” Arthur stood up and stretched out his shoulders, sheathing his sword once more before crossing the room and extending his hand to Merlin. “Let me show you the beauty of the outside world—and in return, you can show me the beauty of magic. Together, we can right the wrong my father has done to you, to so many of your people. Together, we can have peace once more.”

Merlin looked up at him, expression unreadable, but finally gently placed his injured hand into Arthur’s. He let Arthur pull him up, and then, with a deep breath, took his first step past the length of the chain, his first step outside of the area he had been trapped in for all of his life. “Do you promise?”

“I promise,” Arthur swore, hand over his heart. “That is, of course, assuming we can find our way back out of here.”

Right on cue, the sound of hooves and a loud neighing echoed from down the hall, the crunch of gravel and splash of water following close behind. Arthur and Merlin spared a glance between each other before hurrying up the river, hoping to run into the creature coming towards them. The balls of light followed.

As Arthur had hoped, the unicorn had returned, slowly making its way up the riverbank as it pushed something forward along on the floor. As soon as it spotted Arthur it whinnied and stomped its hooves next to the item on the ground.

“That’s not possible,” Arthur muttered as he looked at it from a distance, but as he finally knelt before it, he knew it was true. A small ball of wool yarn, almost to the end of its skein.

“We did it!” he exclaimed, turning to Merlin with excitement and grabbing his hands so he could see the yarn properly.

“We did… what exactly?”

“Oh. Uh, the unicorn brought back the yarn ball I lost in the maze, the one I tied to the door at the beginning. We just need to follow this and wind it up again, and we’ll be home free!”

Merlin’s eyes sparkled. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

Arthur flushed and looked away, quickly letting go of Merlin’s hands and clearing his throat. “Well, uh. Perhaps we should focus on getting out of here. I do rather miss the sun, and I think you will find it enjoyable, too.”

“Oh, uh… yes. Yes we should.”

Merlin beamed and gently grasped Arthur’s arm. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

“You deserve it,” Arthur replied with a smile of his own. “Now, let’s get out of here. And watch for monsters.”

Luckily, on the way out, as they rewound the ball of yarn, there weren’t many encounters with the other creatures. Most of what they encountered were friendly, and those that weren’t were quickly cut off by Merlin’s magic, whether it be with a giant wall or a sticky spiderweb. Regardless, there was no need for Arthur to pull out his sword again, and finally, finally, they returned to the entrance.

Arthur untied the yarn from the door and pulled the ring from his finger, gesturing one of the light balls to come closer. It took a moment to find the seal hidden in the door, but when he did, he pressed it until he heard a click. The large, heavy locks on the other side of the door began to move, and soon enough, the door would open once more.

Merlin stood back behind him, biting his lip and shuffling in place.

Arthur chuckled. “Nervous?”

“Who, me? No, no. Not at all. Maybe a little? Why, is it obvious? Am I going to look like a total freak when we get out of here? Should I go out there at all? I mean, maybe the labyrinth isn’t so bad after all now that I can use my magic—”

“Merlin,” Arthur interrupted with a gentle smile, shaking his head. He brushed the hair out of Merlin’s eyes as he drew close so he could see that Arthur meant every word he was about to say. “You’re going to love it in the outside world. It might take a bit of adjusting—certainly the sun will be the worst for a few days—but it won’t take long for you to fit in.”

“Are you sure?”

Arthur laughed, and then spent the rest of the time waiting for the door to open reassuring Merlin and telling him tales of the outside world and what it was really like. When the door finally swung open, it startled them both, but the bright sunlight was a welcome sight even as they squinted.

“It’s bright,” Merlin said, shielding his eyes.

“Indeed it is,” Arthur smiled as he stood, reaching out his hand once more. “Are you ready to see it?”

Merlin took his hand more readily this time, and held onto it after he stood. “I was born ready.”