“Merlin!” Arthur’s strangled cry was unusually scared, painful. “Arthur!” Yelled Merlin, his sapphire eyes hardening from a liquid to a solid icy blue. Merlin runs to the sound of Arthurs cries, through the trees, the thorns tearing at his pale skin, not caring about the cuts that bleed as he runs. He runs to the scene, Mordred at the foot of a high oak tree, the moonlight flaring off his evil blue eyes. Arthur is bleeding, his leg limp and mangled, his face grimacing in pain. Hello, Emerus. His voice in innocent, but yet the most evil sound in history. Arthur lifts his sword up,...
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