¹ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 ━━ 𝘣𝘣𝘤 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯

━━ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯

"Gaius, his brow's on fire and he keeps getting warmer by the minute," Francis informed from his place parallel to Guinevere, panic bubbling and bursting beneath his skin alarmingly; in all his life, he'd never felt a temperature so high, and he truly worried for the future of their newest friend.

Reading the panic in his voice so seamlessly, Aurora kept to his gaze as her voice flowed in a manner laced in assurance and calmness, as the physician himself sifted through one of the many books which lined his shelves; written on the cover in faded gold, the title appeared to be one dedicated specifically to poisonous flowers and plants. "Francis, take a breath. It's alright—Merlin will be alright. He needs to be kept cool with a cloth and water, and that'll help control his fever."

"The petal comes from the Mortaeus flower," Gaius's voice informed, tearing the titian-haired's attention away from her cousin and back to the page, illustrated with a flower that mirrored the midday sun—beautiful, but lethal. "I know of it, vaguely. A person unfortunate enough to be poisoned by the Mortaeus can only be saved by a potion made from the leaf of the very same flower."

"Then we get the flower," Aurora reasoned with ease. "Where can it be found?"

As his knowledge wasn't all-knowing, contrary to popular belief, the missing piece was searched for in the reading. "It says here that it can only be found in the caves deep beneath the Forest of Balor; the flower grows on the roots of the Mortaeus tree."

Taking a closer look at the source material, Arthur took notice of a particularly alarming illustration residing on the second page. From what he could make out of the creature, hideous as many adversaries he'd faced were, it bore the head of a rooster and the body akin to a dragon—a ridiculous combination, if you asked him, but it sure looked menacing on parchment. "That's not particularly friendly."

"A Cockatrice," Gaius summarized, "it guards the forest. Its venom is potent—a single drop would mean certain death. Few who have crossed the Mountains of Isgaard in such of the Mortaeus flower have made it back alive."

"Sounds like fun."

The response alarmed the physician, for he knew well enough what such a dismissive tone alluded to. "Arthur, it's too dangerous."

"If I don't get the antidote, what happens to Merlin?"

In a flash, every eye in the room seemed to gaze into the depths of the physician's soul, anxiously and impatiently awaiting the answer he was visibly worried to give. Not only for their sake, but because the action of saying the words aloud made the situation all the more real. "The Mortaeus induces a slow and painful death. He may hold out for four, maybe five days, but not for much longer. Eventually, he will die."

Death lingered in the gloaming, its skeletal talons sharp as swords and waiting to imprison their friend in its grasp, drenching their world obsidian with the pain of loss. A taste of that darkness was made visible upon the expressions of all in the room, carefully etched into their features, and Arthur decided that he would go to the ends of the earth to ensure the darkness wouldn't prevail over them.

"That settles it, then." Without another word, Arthur turned on his heel and kept a steady pace as he left the room, and a flash of billowing sage was soon to follow; as always, she was heard before she was seen, and he didn't slow. "I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is absolutely not."

Ginger brows furrowed. "How do you know what I was going to ask?"

"Because I've known you my whole life. You're not coming." Quick as lightning and razor sharp, the words she should have expected echoed into the torch lit corridor, and her shoulders slumped.