The Tournament of Gladiators

Twelve-Reunion

      "Freya?" Merlin whispered, daring to hope. His heart seemed to stop at the sight of the familiar Bastet. The creature regarded Merlin curiously, a small bit of recognition lighting up in its eyes. It bounced towards the young warlock, causing the crowd to cheer and the knights to yell, believing it was going in for the killing blow.

Merlin stood there, hope overriding all of his other instincts, particularly the one that was screaming RUN! At him.

The Bastet came to screeching halt right in front of Merlin, who slowly reached out his hand, attempting not portray any threat to it- her. She stared at the hand with her feline eyes, before placing her head under it. Merlin felt like yelling for joy as Freya began to purr softly while he gently ran his hand down her head. Tears formed in his eyes as he felt the soft fur underneath his hand, proving that he wasn't just imaging this.

A flash of red suddenly caught Merlin's attention, and his gaze traveled to the Bastet's neck, where an odd collar with a glowing stone was fastened. He gently touched it, but jerked his hand away when Freya let out a small growl in warning. The warlock looked over the beast form of the woman he loved, wanted to scream as he noticed all the scars that littered her body.

"What are you doing?" Thane's voice yelled as the crowd began to demand for the two to fight. "Kill him!" Gwaine chuckled, while the other knights gaped at the sight before them.

"Merlin seems to be a constant disappointment for you, Thane." Gwaine said as the Bastet was now curled around Merlin.

"Impossible...." Thane muttered. "Guards, get in there! Kill the boy and the beast!" Thane's men filed into the arena, surrounding Merlin and Freya.

Merlin held his hand out in warning as Freya snarled, determined to protect Merlin. Elyan, who had forced himself to move past his shock, was now picking the lock on his shackles with a small shard he managed to peel from Thane's throne. The warlock in the arena winced at the amount of men who had filled the arena. This would be tough.

Merlin raised both his arms, wincing at the pain then came from the injured one, and his eyes flashed a brilliant gold. All hopes of hiding the extent of his magic now gone, he sent over half of the guards flying. Freya pounced, her claws tearing into the nearest two guards in one swipe, then moving on to the next closest ones. Merlin dropped his left arm, the pain becoming too much, but kept his other hand up, directing every spell he could think of at the men. Freya roared, blood tinting her gleaming white fangs to a red.

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Arthur watched to carnage below, and he was livid. Not only had Merlin proved that he was a Dragonlord, he was full-blown sorcerer. And, from the looks of it, a powerful one at that. The sting of betrayal coursed through Arthur, fueling his rage. Thane was also angry, but for an entirely different reason.

Merlin's magic was being drained, he could feel it being transferred into his own body, but it was an extremely slow process. Somehow, this boy had enough magic to last longer than every other sorcerer Thane had ever come across. Enraged, Thane began muttering a spell, his words becoming louder and louder, until they echoed in the arena. The crowd had now begun to disperse, fearing for their lives.

Thane's spell was deafening, his voice once again sounding like thousands of swords grinding against stone. As the Bastet pounced on the final man, claws tearing through flesh, the collar she was wearing flashed a blinding red. The stone gleamed, while its bearer let out a pained growl, scratching at her neck.

"Freya!" Merlin screamed, running to her. He began to pull at the collar, desperately attempting to pull it off. The Bastet's eyes changed from their normal gold, into a burning red. In a desperate attempt to save Merlin, with the last bit of control she had left, Freya pushed Merlin away, trying to send a message.