Written for the 2013 Halloween Challenge of the Heart of Camelot, prompt #2.

Title: "The Crow"

Category: Gen (Canon AU)

Characters/Pairings: Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, Gaius, the knights, Morgana, Mordred, Arthur/Gwen

Rating/Warnings: T for multiple major character deaths, lots of blood, wounds, death of a pregnant woman, a stillborn child, mentions of cannibalism, general darkness, dark!Arthur, crazy!Mordred, OOCness, disturbing desciptions

Additional details: this story could be chronologically set after 5x06; Elyan is dead, Mordred is there and all that jazz. It doesn't disagree with any of the events of season 5 except for the battle of Camlann. If you want to consider 5x11, then Mordred hasn't openly betrayed Arthur.
It's set two years after magic had been freed in Camelot. Mordred is still a knight, but he is siding with Morgana.

Merlin's personality is much more like season 4 Merlin, because that's my favorite. Forgive me if you liked him heartbroken and dark.

With the plot developing, Morgana's role in all of this changed. Most of what I already wrote only mentioned Morgana in passing, so it was easy to change the part I needed to change.

She is still attacking Camelot, but since magic has been freed she doesn't want to harm Arthur anymore, but she still wants the throne for herslef becuse she feels that it belongs to her.
Mordred is a kind of puppeteer in all of this, while Morgana is the puppet. The bad (very very bad) things that will happen are, therefore, mostly Mordred's fault.

The story is split into four parts: the introduction and three big parts.

Inspired by the wonderful movie "The Crow".

Special thanks to merthurislove for the fantastic book cover and to MagicGirl41 for beta-ing the story. I love you, guys, seriously; it takes a saint to put up with me.

DISCLAIMER: IDOM

(Sorry if the Author's Note is so long... It shall not happen again!)

Introduction

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead.

But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest.

Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right.

A bird as black as night landed softly on the pile of stones – the mark of an unnamed grave – and croaked once, its red eyes flashing, before flying away. The fluttering of wings echoed loudly in the stillness of the night.

Then, as if by magic, a drop of water fell to the ground. The only witness to that miracle of nature was an empty sky; the lack of rain in the last months had brought a terrible famine over the people, causing a great many to die of starvation.

It had been a catastrophe, especially after the recent and strange illness – those who had recovered were still too weak to survive without enough water and food, and those who hadn't fallen ill worked constantly until their last ounce of strength was spent.

It was horrible – people dying everywhere you turned, corpses lying in the middle of the street as the survivors mourned their lost loved ones. They could only weep, for no one was strong enough to do anything – or bury the bodies of the dead, for that matter.

It had been a catastrophe, especially after the recent illness – those who had had recovered were too weak to survive without enough water and food. It seemed that a member was missing in every house, and corpses littered the streets as people mourned their lost loved ones. They could only weep, for no one was strong enough to do anything – or bury the bodies of the dead, for that matter.

Not all of them were left to rot; some of them were burnt by their family, in a huge collective bonfire that was built once a week. It was a completely different matter for the bodies of those who had no one anymore; they were thrown in the woods, left there for the animals to gorge on their carcasses.

A few believed that someone, in their desperate quest for food, had found a dead body outside their home and had brought it in, cutting it to pieces and cooking it. The hunger had made even respectable people become cannibals – and the worst thing was that the draught and the subsequent famine were not something natural.

The rain hadn't blessed the thirsty earth for months, and it wasn't Mother Nature's fault – no, it was all because of dark magic.

An atrocious spell, casted by a powerful witch who wanted revenge over the people for rejecting her and claiming her half-brother as their rightful king. She had attacked the heart of the kingdom, its citizens, knowing that – without anyone to support him – the king would fall in a matter of months.

Or so they thought, at least, for they didn't know – and probably never would – that there was someone else behind the attack, that there was a traitor in their midst. And if they ever found out, sometime in the future, that the seeds of their destruction had been sown by one of their own, it would already be too late.

The people of Camelot had not feared such things as draught or famine for a long time. Since magic had been freed in Camelot, they had always had enough water and food – and what they didn't eat, they brought to the castle as an offer to their beloved sovereigns. The Golden Age had brought peace and prosperity to the lands of Albion, united under the seal of the magnanimous King Arthur of Camelot and his wife, the beautiful and wise Queen Guinevere. And who could forget their always cheerful and smiling Court Sorcerer, Merlin Emrys?

Every single subject of the king knew how strong his bond with the former servant was. They had always tried not to show how much they relayed upon each other, but since the day magic had been freed in Camelot, it had become impossible for them to hide their friendship.

Indeed, the ban on magic had been repealed in his honor, after the young warlock had revealed his powers to the whole court while saving them from the attack of the witch Morgana. In spite of what everyone had expected, Merlin had sent her far away from the kingdom – they had found out, not much time later, that the warlock would never be able to kill in cold blood the same woman who used to be his friend. His heart had always been too big for his own good and for some reason – someone said it was guilt – Merlin had always pitied the late king's illegitimate daughter.

After the dramatic reveal of the servant's magical abilities, the king had sent him straight to the dungeons to wait for his sentence – everyone had been sure the young man would either be killed or exiled. Luckily they were proven wrong when they heard that the queen had managed to persuade the king into hearing what the sorcerer had to say about his magic.

During a private council – whose only members were Merlin, the Court Physician, the two royals and their most trusted knights – the warlock's true loyalties had been established as he recalled his actions and the sacrifices he had made for the kingdom.

The ban on magic had been lifted soon after, much to the people's bewilderment – they had been shocked by the outcome of the events, but in the end it had turned to be the right choice. Magic had become an integrant part of Camelot's daily life in less than a year, and few could remember how they had even survived while the ban was still in place.

Everything had been perfect and everyone had been happy – something was bound to happen.

And it did.