《Flyleaf》Trollhunters/Merlin

《 Chapter Seven 》

"Betrayal hurts most when it comes from those closest to our hearts."

He had been on a stroll when it happened. He had been enjoying the cool night air, a nice change from the stuffy corridors of the castle. He didn't even have any intentions of conversing with the Great Dragon.

But then the ground beneath his feet started to tremble.

A shallow curse flies from his lips, eyes wide and a quiet cheer on the tip of his tongue. He can recognise the tremors not as giant steps, but thunderous wing beats from below.

An uncharacteristic grins spreads across his face as he breaks into a sprint, nimbly scaling the base foundations of Camelot's walls, a towering collection of boulders that does little to slow him. His cloak billows grandly behind him, flapping in the growing wind like the flag of Camelot hoisted above the training grounds.

Esmerion grins truly, sharp canines displayed in his glee and amber eyes glowing with the strength of burning coals. The figure he has longed to see emerges from the ravine, their own eyes not burning, but blazing. Their teeth glisten in the moonlight, bared as they cry out for their freedom.

His smile falters, his eyes dim. He sees no joy in the Great Dragon's expression, only a darkness that has been twisted into cruelty. There is no kind spark, nor glitter of wisdom in his golden eyes. There is nothing left of who he had been.

Kilgarrah catches his eyes, snarling lowly with a cruel curling of his lips before leaping back into the air. Too soon, he is nothing but a small speck in the night sky.

Esmerion is no moron. He is anything but a village dunce. He is aware that the roar he hears is not an exclamation of freedom. It is a call of vengeance. One he had thought was left behind them.

He doesn't dare waste his breath with a curse. The youth turns swiftly to the walls of Camelot, fingers grasping the cracks in the stone. There is little time.

When his feet land on the solid stone of the castle wall, swords and spears are jabbed in his direction, causing him to drop and roll to avoid a chance of being skewered. His hood blows off his head and he stands, arms outstretched to express his disinterest in a scuffle.

"Sound the alarm," he says boldly, eyes glittering in the moonlight. "Get everyone inside."

One of the guards threatens him with the end of his spear, not recognising the youth in the dark blanket of night. "Who are you to give us orders?"

Esmerion spins to face him, fury and fear clear as day in his expression. There's no mistaking who he is now. The guards catch on very quickly, raising their weapons without a moment's notice and bringing apologies to their tongues.

"Don't." He holds up a hand, voice deep and commanding. "Just do as I say an' get every man, woman, and child inside the castle walls."

"We don't foll--"

Esmerion shoots the speaker a deadly glare, holding promises of suffering in his eyes. The guard silences without question and jerks his head to order off the others of the patrol. 

With the group gone, Esmerion only sees it fit to continue his trek. He doesn't bother with the stairs, taking a desperate leap down from the wall. He's lucky that nobody is around to question his survival of the fall, but offers only a brief prayer of thanks to the Goddess as he runs.