The next few months, rapidly approaching his first full year in Ealdor, Merlin spent relatively happy. He had his routine, but it only slightly changed now, but changed momentously. He could kiss Susetthe. His lovely, compassionate, strong Susetthe. She was like her brother quite a bit—daring, mischievous, proud—which only added to her charm. He liked to believe that Gwaine was watching from the afterlife, hopefully approving, and Merlin did everything he could to keep the knight's easygoing sister happy, in the hopes that he could be redeemed in the eyes of his fallen friend.

"Lilly, really now," he chuckled as he wove through his mother's farm with Lillian and Rowanna on his heels, teasing him about Susetthe as per usual now. He loved the two as sisters, but occasionally their obsession bordered on annoying.

"Merlin we can't help ourselves," Rowanna sighed teasingly. "You didn't see you when you first arrived here. Everyone was happy to see you, yes—"

Lillian continued for her when she hesitated. "But there was this shadow over you constantly, so deep and dark no one was quite sure if you'd ever even truly smile."

Rowanna nodded, Merlin only catching it from the corner of his eye. "Then we all became friends, but it has always been clear that she's the closest to you, and you likewise. But no, you seem happier, like every smile isn't—"

She was cut off by Lillian screaming. Merlin and Rowanna whipped around, Merlin's arm shooting to grab the girl's shoulder out of protective instinct, but the three were frozen in shock. A raging fire was rapidly swallowing the village, already claiming two houses. From the village, people's screams and shouts echoed as men in dark clothing on horses poured in from the forest, leaping over or simply smashing the small fences, brandishing swords and maces and other weapons.

"Get into the forest, now!" Merlin shouted at them, already beginning to sprint back to the cluster of houses. He had to protect his mother, the village children, Susetthe. He didn't turn back to look for Lillian or Rowanna, just hoping they'd actually listened to him. Mere yards from his mother's house, Merlin yelled a spell and hurled it at the nearest raider, hitting him square in the chest and knocking him backwards off of his horse.

The streets were chaos, shouts and cries assaulting Merlin's ears as villagers and raiders both fell, bodies bloody and sometimes squirming, sometimes still. The majority of bodies were villagers. Merlin ran into his house, grabbing his sword and dagger, before twisting through people, throwing spells whenever he could get a clear shot, searching for his mother and Susetthe. Soon, the metallic scent of fire mixed with the acrid stench of fire and the two permeated the air, as if it was the only smell Merlin had ever known.

He caught sight of Susetthe' s dark mop of hair, but it was immediately obscured by a raider who swung his sword out at Merlin's neck. Merlin raised his sword instinctively, blocking it, the two exchanging a few blows before Merlin's sword was hilt-deep in the man's stomach. The man's eyes were wide as he fell, and Merlin almost laughed humorlessly. He'd trained with the best—the king—these raiders were not taking this village easily if Merlin had anything to say. He continued running in the direction he'd seen her, throwing spells and using his sword, but they never seemed to stop coming.

He was at the edge of the village now, with still more pouring from the trees as he stood trying to stop them from even reaching the fence. Then, something hard thundered into the back of his head and everything turned black.