𝕭𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝕿𝖜𝖔
𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: From trolls to dragons to foreign princesses, Astraea Aphelion grows stronger as she
continues to navigate medieval Britain using her wit and heart, standing unshaken beside Merlin and Arthur as they face every threa...
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📍 Somewhere in medieval Britain
⏳May, 506 AD
[warning: panic attack]
Merlin and I (plus Dallas and Falcon, obviously) set out from Camelot just before sunrise.
I left a note for Uther, telling him that Merlin needs help collecting medicinal herbs for Gaius and that we'll be gone for a couple of days. I hope that that will be satisfying enough for him, because further explanation was not – and will not be – given.
We rode straight for a town in Mercia called Angard, from where the most recent letter from a very dear friend had been sent. This friend is the perfect candidate to help us cross the Perilous Lands and save Arthur. If he agrees to do so, that is.
"Merls, look!" I chirped as I pointed at a chestnut Arabian horse that was grazing near a building. "That's Fallyn!"
"Are you certain?" he asked.
I playfully narrowed my eyes at him. "I know my horses, dude!"
He snorted. "All right, let us go inside."
Merlin and I stepped into what turned out to be a tavern and he instantly pushed me behind him. My eyes widened and my breath hitched at the sight of an intense quarrel going on inside, with cups and plates flying everywhere as men beat the living crap out of each other.
Suddenly, I miss the zombie knights and the reanimated skeletons.
I gulped as I watched a man being pushed down a long table, knocking even more plates, glasses and cutlery to the ground as he accelerated towards us.
The momentum wore out just before the guy could face-plant onto the ground, and the mop of near-shoulder-length messy brown hair instantly gave him away.
"Hello, Gwaine!" Merlin exclaimed, amusement shining in his eyes.
Gwaine's head shot up and he smiled widely. "Trae! Merlin!" He scrambled to get off the table and rushed to hug me, then he put an arm around my best friend's shoulders.
"Give me my money," a large bald man grunted, his stare fixed on Gwaine.
My friend's smile faded and he turned to Merlin and I with a sheepish look. "Run!" he exclaimed while pushing us towards the door.
The three of us quickly bursted out of the tavern and we took off running along a dirt path that lines the building, swerving in between market stands to try to confuse the angry man – and some pals that had joined him – as they chased us.
They carried axes, swords, and other makeshift weapons; the sight of which caused my stomach to churn.
Merlin pulled me under a table where bread was set on display and Gwaine joined us moments later. We exchanged quick looks before peeking over the table to find the men coming straight for us.
