The nearest dune-positioned sentry yawned—no doubt complacent in his duties .. . after all, what enemy remained to attack the horde that had conquered all but a tiny corner of the world?
Merlin, who had cast a muggle repelling charm so he walked past the sentry.
As the Sentry merely frowned and turned, curiously, but he didn't notice anyone.
Merlin walked forward and saw in an encampment, two of Memnon's most lovingly sadistic torturers—a pair of fat, greasy, bearded, sweaty brutes as interchangeable as a right and left sandal—were heating up a poker in the coals of a campfire.
He ignored it and walked through corridor of sorts, between rows of tents.
Merlin across the open area between tent rows, Merlin eyes were everywhere, taking in even the rustle of a tent flap, stirred by the night breeze .. . ... revealing the feet of dozens of guardsmen lying in wait!
Merlin hummed and muttered,"So they the bastard son of King Ashur did betray them."
But none of these men knew Merlin was there,as he walks past them.
Merlin entered the tent of the Sorcereress, it was a strange, shadowy, yet golden tent-chamber where elaborate drapes and tapestries hung, ornate benches and furnishings lending a palatial feel, while a central fire created a smoky ground-level fog that added to an undeniable occult atmosphere. Rising to a crouch, Clearing a hanging tapestry, he realized he was not alone. A figure with its back to him, in a long flowing cape with a high ornate stiff collar, decorated with moon signs and other enigmatic symbols, began to swivel around to him, with an unnatural fluidity, as if floating.
As fully concealed as this figure had been with its cloaked back to him, now was it fully revealed. Barely clad, much of her golden-hued skin exposed, her form was slender yet shapely, high firm breasts half-concealed by a glittering halter, loins also girded in gilt. An oval face of such breathtaking beauty he had never seen—wide-set almond eyes as large as they were dark, delicate nose, small perfect lips, all framed by shoulder-length obsidian hair topped by a golden headdress. This was Cassandra the Sorcereress.
Merlin removed his repelling charm, while Cassandra looked at Merlin awe. She had seen the future to an extent, she knew Merlin is her only chance for freedom.
"I am Cassandra, I have been waiting for you." she said. Her voice was musical, and as she stepped forward, tiny toe-ring cymbals kept time, chiming as she moved. On her hands were gloves of gold . .. with silver claws.
Merlin hummed and said,"I guess Takmet betrayed his father."
Cassandra in slight shock muttered,"You already know."
"I am sorry, Wizard, they are already herem" she said aloud.
A guard in helmet and leathers came charging at him, sword swinging. Merlin deflected the sword blow with the staff, and swung the staff into the man's midsection, dropping him to the smoky floor.
The next one came up from behind, and Merlin's staff glowed before projected an air blast which sends him flying out.
Undeterred, two more guards surged forward, swords gleaming in the dim light. Merlin's eyes flashed with determination as he tapped his staff on the ground. Unbeknownst to the guards, a subtle magic was at work. Ignoring the warning signs, they rushed forward, only to find their legs ensnared by an unseen force.
Panic gripped them as they realized too late that the carpet beneath them had been magically booby-trapped. With a sinking feeling as if it was quick sand, they struggled against the invisible bonds, their cries for help echoing through the chamber in desperation. "Help... help us," they pleaded, their voices tinged with fear and regret.
While Cassandra looked at this in awe and shock. But during this time, Cassandra wad pulled away a scarred human demon called Thorak, who—trident in hand. He was Memnon's second in command.
Merlin ignored it, he came here now to scare Memnon a bit. He will soon rescue the Sorcereress, so he telepathically told her,"I will come to save you, soon."
As a sea of soldiers arrived at the front of Tent they kept a distance from the sinking rug, some of them tried to rescue the sinking men. But they were not successful as the men was swallowed by sinking carpet.
Merlin waltched as the man in golden chain mail, whose regal bearing did not diminish the austere cruelty of his handsome features, could be no one but Memnon himself. The Teacher of Men paused, he also watched his guard's completely sink into the rug like it was quick sand.
Then with slight fear hr appraised his guest, saying, "A living, breathing Valyrian Wizard ... What a rarity ... what an uncommon pleasure."
Memnon strode around the sinking carpet carefully.
Merlin saw heard a familiar voice: "It seems we meet again wizard?" The sarcasm had come from a young, lightly bearded man in noble leathers, just entering the room, with a cowhide sack— large enough for a good-size water jug—gripped by its draw ties. Takmet! The son of King Ashur of Meara ...
" So, Takmet, you really betrayed your father" Mathayus said calmy.
This seemed to amuse the king's son, who answered by way of a sarcastic half bow and
Takmet shrugged. "My father was a forgetful old fool.He deserved no better from the son he slighted."
The slender heir to the throne of Meara turned to the warlord. "The old man paid for underestimating me ... he was terribly shocked. You can tell by the look on his face." And Takmet dipped his hand into the leather pouch and withdrew the head of his father.
Merlin grimaced seeing this, he knew Essos didn't take kinslaying seriously as Westeros. But it was still frowned upon, so for Takmet was a fool to act like this was nothing. Also, the poor fool didn't see Merlin's abilities now, he arrived too late, otherwise he would be very wary to annoy Merlin like this.
"I have heard tales," Lord Memnon began, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, "that you are trained in all forms of magic, and it did surprise me. I was hoping you would join me. I can give you anything you want." His smile, small yet sinister, held a promise of power and wealth. With a subtle nod to his massive second-in-command, Thorak, who stood poised with his trident, Memnon silently signaled his intent.
But before Thorak could unleash his deadly weapon, Merlin's staff slammed into the ground with a resounding thud. With a swift incantation, he cast a time stop spell, freezing the moment in its tracks.
Memnon and Cassandra sees everyone in the tent slowing down, Memnon saw Thorak trident was stuck in the air.
Memnon tries to lift his arm. It moves painfully slow. He, and all the other men along with Thorak, can barely move. It's as though they are trapped in liquid, underwater.
Merlin smiled and said,"You believe, you are someone sort chosen one that could do whatever you want, well the thing is you are not. Also, I won't kill you now, I will let you have nightmares about your upcoming death."
With a silent nod exchanged between them, Merlin conveyed his message to Cassandra through their telepathic connection. "I will come back for you," his words echoed in her mind, carrying with them a promise of hope amidst the chaos.
Cassandra, ever stoic and composed, accepted Merlin's assurance with a sense of inevitability. She had foreseen the outcome, so she was calm.
While Merlin looked as if he is sucked into vortex,being twisted and swirled into nothing within a swirling clear haze, accompanied with a loud rustling or rushing sound disappear completely into thin air.
As the spell lifted and freedom returned to Memnon and his men after Merlin's disappearance, they stood frozen in a pall of fear. Memnon, his face contorted with a mixture of rage and terror, bellowed his command with thunderous intensity. "Find the best of our warriors! Hunt down these Wizards! I want their heads on pikes before me!" His voice echoed off the walls, leaving no doubt about the severity of his wrath.
Thorak, his own resolve wavering in the face of Memnon's wrath, swallowed hard but nodded dutifully. "As you wish, my king," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Cassandra, observing Memnon's volatile mixture of anger and fear, concealed her satisfaction behind a mask of stoicism. When Memnon turned his gaze upon her, demanding insight into the future, she met his gaze with a sigh of resignation. "They are blessed by the gods," she intoned solemnly, "the stars are not favorable to you."
As the realization of Merlin's impending return sank in, Lord Memnon's rage boiled over, manifesting in a flurry of violence as he hurled furniture around the room in a fit of anger and frustration. Each crash echoed like thunder, a testament to the storm raging within him.
The knowledge that Merlin would come for him sent shivers down his spine, igniting a primal fear that gripped him like a vice. Despite his bravado, the looming specter of the powerful sorcerer's vengeance left Memnon trembling in dread, his facade of confidence crumbling in the face of an inevitable reckoning, he quickly ordered,"Ready thr horses,we are going back to Qarth."
Takmet, a silent witness to the unfolding drama, trembled with fear. Images of Merlin, the legendary sorcerer, haunting his dreams and tormenting his waking hours, plagued his mind with dread. The thought of facing such a formidable foe, especially in his vulnerable state, sent shivers down his spine, ensuring that nightmares