The light left and Merlin found himself just coming into Arthur’s room. Technically it was Arthur going into his own room but lets not dwell on that and make it more complicated than it already is.
There was a distinct smell of food coming from somewhere and Merlin realized it was coming from Arthur as he pulled a few bits of chicken from his hair. This must have been just after the food fight at the banquet. If that was true then this must have been around the time it had happened.
A few bits of chicken and what not later Arthur abandoned the idea of trying to clean himself up and began doing a few princely things such as re-polishing his sword (it seemed Merlin hadn’t done a good job…surprise, surprise) and setting out his chain mail on the table. After a while Merlin became rather bored and was almost falling asleep when suddenly there was suddenly a strange crackling noise.
Arthur had noticed it to and began to search around for the source of the crackling. It didn’t take long. There was a tiny, really tiny flicker of a flame near the window. It was mostly strange as to why it was there because it was not burning anything and also had nothing to use as fuel. It was just a flame.
Arthur crouched down and studied it curiously. It slowly began to grow and soon became a size of a flame that you would expect to come from a candle. It didn’t seem any immediate threat so Arthur continued to watch it. There was something very…interesting about it. If asked he wouldn’t be able to explain why. It just seemed to attract attention.
Suddenly the flame flashed and grew far, far bigger, big enough to be of a threat. Arthur jumped up and began to stamp on it. The more he stamped, however, the bigger it grew and it was soon just as tall as he was. It still wasn’t burning anything yet it was hot, almost unbearably hot. Arthur tried to block out the heat of the flames to his face by throwing up his arms but the heat just went straight through them and continued to fry him. Suddenly a strange noise that couldn’t be described as anything but a song burst out. It was a beautiful song, very much like Lady Helen’s but it was faster paced and less smooth, almost jumpy. It was the sort of thing that imprinted itself in your mind. Something you would never forget, something that made your heart ache.
The flames writhed in the air for a moment more before suddenly everything went gold. It was like a sheet of gold had been thrown over him and he couldn’t properly see anything. He was suddenly going stiff and a horrible white-hot searing pain shot through his body in waves of agony.
Abruptly it stopped and Merlin was back in the cloud place, shaking with pain and fear. He felt like it had actually happened to him. Adrenalin pumping through his veins, sweat beading down his forehead and his breath coming out in ragged gasps he rubbed his head as it thumped. That had been absolutely terrifying, not to mention painful. He sat there for some time trying desperately to calm himself down. It had felt awful, almost like he had been torn into shreds. And then he had actually been able to feel gold creeping up his veins and consuming his body. He was incredibly surprised and relieved that Arthur hadn’t died when it had occurred. It was so painful the pain alone could kill you.
After a while, when he had calmed down and felt a little better, he suddenly realized that he still didn’t know who had done it. The only thing he had been able to see was fire and smoke.
Still that song was whirling around his head and ringing in his ears. Merlin desperately wished it would go away. It was beautiful yes but so sad and angry. Who had sung it though, that was the question. Merlin really couldn’t think, his head was still thumping and his lungs were filled with smoke. He coughed and spluttered for a second as the fresh air of the cloud place stung his burnt throat.
He had to get out of this place and return to the real world. After all what more was there to do here apart from invade Arthur’s privacy, which Merlin had a feeling he had already done. He would have hated it if someone had gone into his mind and gone through his thoughts, memories and feelings.
He brought back the image of the page of his magic book, into his head and mentally read it. Finding the words he had to say he stood up, a little shakily, and prepared himself for the journey back to his body.
“Eosoloira yatnevref yatsaf murrac cileag.” He said to the air and closed his eyes tight shut.