Chapter Text
This is Merlin's life.
Merlin woke up in the morning, feeling his aged body like it had fallen apart. He needed a moment to gather himself before sitting up. Even in the 21st century, he still preferred sleeping on a hard wooden bed. When spring mattresses were first invented, he had also bought a Simmons mattress, yet the overly soft bed reminded him of the feather mattress in Arthur's chamber at Camelot Castle. Back in Camelot, he used to pull Arthur out of the mattress and tidy up the bed while Arthur took a bath every morning.
Merlin reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a gray linen cardigan, slipping it on. As he gazed at his aging face in the mirror, memories of the first time he saw that face when he was young flooded back. Back then, Gaius was still by his side, and his eyes revealed the clarity of youth. And now, over a thousand years had passed, his eyes had finally become like those of an ancient old man, while Gaius was long gone from his side.
Merlin washed himself with water and picked a leaf from one of the pots of mint he had planted and put it in his mouth to chew on to keep his breath fresh. Though people had invented better toothpaste in the modern era, he disliked the sensation of the paste in his mouth and still retained some medieval habits in personal hygiene.
Merlin held a thermos and poured a pot of hot tea. He liked the invention of the thermos, which was a great tool for living in Wales against the cold, and his love for it was no less than that for a lighter. If this invention had existed back in Camelot, he wouldn't have needed to carry a flint that never seemed to spark, struggling to light fires and cook meals in the wilderness.
Merlin tucked the thermos into his mailbag, slung it over his shoulder, opened the door, and shrank his neck as the cold wind blew in his face. The weather in United Kingdom is always gloomy and rainy. Merlin grabbed an umbrella from the rack by the door and put on his woolen hat. It only takes him a little over ten minutes to walk from his cottage to Avalon Lake, but lately he has taken a liking to riding shared bicycles. All he needs to do is take out his smartphone, tap on one of the few icons on the screen, and scan the intricate pattern (which looks even more complex than magical runes) on the lock of any bike he finds on the roadside. Modern life seems more like magic than actual magic.
Merlin rode his bike, winding down the mountain road. In the early morning, the Welsh mountain road was only frequented by a few cargo trucks. Merlin carefully avoided these steel monsters and finally arrived at Lake Avalon.
This is Merlin's life. Getting up early, getting dressed, washing up, bring a cup of hot tea, and spending the whole day by the shores of Avalon Lake.
The five great kingdoms that had once occupied the land of Albion no longer existed, and they had united to become one nation called The United Kingdom. The impregnable castle of Camelot has long turned into weathered stones, and the Round Table is nowhere to be found.
All the relatives and friends that Merlin had known have departed with that era of history, leaving Merlin alone to wander this world for over a thousand years.
Merlin had once tried to break free from his past and live a serious life for a while. But that period turned out to be a nightmare. The more he integrated into human civilization, the more people easily noticed his peculiarity. He was an immortal being, the embodiment of earth magic, and people instinctively feared him. Merlin reluctantly discovered that it wasn't only Uther who persecuted magic. the sensational witch-hunt had lasted for over two hundred years, and later generations would only refer to it as history, summarizing it effortlessly as the Church suppressing heretical cults. However, for Merlin, it was a hellish experience he had personally endured. there was Arthur and friends who would protect him when he was in Camelot, but what else could he do when he was left alone.
Even though several hundred years have passed, the burning sensation of the fire still lingers in Merlin's blood. He can still feel the thick black smoke seeping into his lungs, choking him. He was bound securely to the pyre with chains that absorbed the heat of the flames like a branding iron burning his skin to a crisp. Everyone around him was clamoring for the wizard to be burned alive. All he wants was to die, but he couldn't even lose consciousness. He could only vividly feel himself being burned to the bone. In the end, his consciousness became blurred, and all he remembered is repeatedly calling out Arthur's name amidst the flames, over and over again.
Two days later, Merlin was reborn from the ashes and returned home, dragging his battered body. Since then, he never dared to talk to anyone, nor did he dare to trust anyone.
Fortunately, living in the 21st century, all you need is a smartphone to solve everything in life without having to interact with anyone. Merlin spent a whole month studying the second-hand iPhone he bought at the market, almost using magic to disassemble the phone because he couldn't fully grasp how to use it. Merlin thought that if Apple's Steve Jobs had magic, he would probably be the most powerful sorcerer of this era. In the end, Merlin gave up trying to fully master the smartphone like a youngster. Just managing to download a few apps that he could operate and that were useful in his life was about to make his brain explode.
One of Merlin's favorites was Uber Eats, as it only took a few taps for someone in a green uniform riding a small electric scooter will deliver delicious food to him. Although his residence is too remote that he was able to choose from a small selection of restaurants, it was enough for him to eat for a week without repeating the same meal. Really wish there were such good things in the Camelot era.
Gazing upon the tranquil surface of Avalon Lake, Merlin felt his own heart calm as well.
This is the 1,236th year, 10th month, and 25th day since Arthur left. Today, Arthur has not returned either.
This is Arthur's life.
Or perhaps it shouldn't be called "life" at all, because, theoretically, he's dead. He died in the Battle of Camlann, slain by the traitor Mordred's sword. Arthur's entire life was marked by betrayal, from his father to his queen to his knights.
And his best friend.
Merlin has magic. He wasn't told until Arthur was dying and about to die soon. Merlin tearfully revealed to Arthur that he was a sorcerer, born with magic. Arthur was furious, not because Merlin had been using forbidden magic right under his nose, but because Merlin had deceived him for a whole twelve years.
But in the end, he forgave Merlin. Because how could he really be angry with Merlin. Despite Merlin being a sorcerer and deceiving him for twelve years, Merlin's loyalty and love were genuine. He selflessly sacrificed his life for Arthur without asking for anything in return in Camelot, where the use of magic would have gotten him killed, strengthening Camelot's rule for Arthur, watching him transform from an innocent and carefree boy into a melancholic and worried one, even denying the existence of magic for Arthur's sake. In that moment, when Merlin confessed to Arthur, all the memories flooded back to him.
So how could he not forgive Merlin, how could he not love Merlin?
He wished to Gods that could give him a little more time to be by Merlin's side, to wipe away Merlin's tears, to kiss Merlin's lips, to tell Merlin more of the feelings he held for him. Yet the grimness of death dragged Arthur down, all he could do was ask Merlin to hold him; Arthur is scared, hesitates, and dares not tell Merlin about his love. If Arthur is destined to die, telling Merlin that he loves him at this moment will only make reality even more pathetic.
So Arthur just said, Thank you.
Arthur died, but he did not completely die. Everything that followed seemed to be detached from reality. Arthur felt a pair of warm hands pulling him up, and he opened his eyes to see his mother standing in front of him, just like the vision he had once seen on that day with Morgause.
Ygraine told him that Arthur was the Once and Future King and would not easily pass away. When Albion's need is greatest, he would return once again and bring the golden age to Albion. Arthur listened with a vague understanding, cause his attention was completely drawn to Merlin by the lake. Floating in a transcendent position, he watched as Merlin dressed himself in the Pendragon's cape for the last time and placed his body on the small boat by the lake. While doing all this, Merlin continued to cry, and Arthur felt his heart tighten. He wanted to embrace Merlin, to stop his tears, but when Arthur reached out his hand, it only passed through Merlin's body - he couldn't touch Merlin.
Merlin whisperd a magic spell, sending Arthur's boat into the center of the lake, where it burst into flames, and Arthur just watched as his body disappeared with the sunken of the boat. Merlin threw Excalibur into the lake, stood by the lake's edge for a long time, and eventually, with great reluctance, departed.
Since then, Arthur has embarked on a second life. Arthur gradually grasped some rules. He couldn't stray too far from the lake, so he couldn't return to Camelot. He could talk to his mother and the people living in the lake (he was surprised to find Lancelot here too), and he could interact with them, but people outside the lake couldn't see or touch him. There was another world in Avalon Lake, magnificent and comfortable, but he preferred to stay by Merlin's side, watching Merlin clumsily busy by himself.
Merlin built a small wooden house on the mountains by the lake, and he pretty much lives here. It has also become Arthur's place of residence. Occasionally, Merlin rides out, usually to Camelot to assist Queen Guinevere with some political matters - Merlin is now appointed as the court sorcerer. But generally, he returns within two or three days. Merlin says he's not accustomed to staying in the palace, and Arthur wonders if it's because he's not there in the palace anymore.
Arthur couldn't accompany Merlin to Camelot. When Merlin was not around, he would practice fencing with Lancelot by the lake or have a chat with the graceful lady of the lake he had recently befriended, a lady named Freya.
From Lancelot and Freya, Arthur came to know a whole new side of Merlin. Sometimes he would feel jealous, because Merlin was willing to tell them things that he wouldn't tell Arthur himself. But most of the time, it was regret and disappointment. When Arthur realized that Merlin had quietly done so much for him, and had lost so much in the process, how he wished he could have known Merlin completely at pass time, appreciated him, embraced him, kissed him-
Yet Arthur couldn't even touch Merlin now. All he could do was sit at the foot of Merlin's bed, watching Merlin curled up on the hard wooden bed in the cramped little room, even in his sleep, tears streaming down his face, murmuring Arthur's name. Arthur is already dead, but why does his heart still ache? He places his hand on Merlin's shoulder, even though there is no sensation or warmth, he hopes to bring a little comfort to Merlin, to stop his beautiful eyes from crying and his fair forehead from furrowing.
Time flies, and Arthur doesn't know how long has passed. It could be over a decade, or maybe several decades. He is bound by the shores of Lake Avalon, unable to move. When Camelot fell, he could only watch helplessly as Merlin went to the battlefield to fight the enemy. Arthur couldn't be of any assistance, and for the months that Merlin was gone, he lived in constant fear. Finally, after months of silence, Merlin returned to Avalon, covered in bloodstains, and collapsed at the doorstep of the cottage. Arthur wanted to lift him up and examine his injuries, but his translucent arms could only pass through Merlin's body. He watched as the pool of blood beneath Merlin grew larger and larger, and fear threatened to engulf him.
Arthur screamed Merlin's name. He even completely forgot that Merlin couldn't possibly hear his voice.
Please, don't die. Please.
He questioned Avalon in desperation. Wasn't this the greatest need for Albion now? Why can't he return? Why!
Avalon only responded to him with silence.
Merlin moved slightly, struggling on the ground for a few moments before finally managing to climb up with great difficulty. He took off his blood-stained robe and stumbled towards the edge of the bed. His face was pale from blood loss, and the throbbing wounds made him almost faint with pain again. He managed to sit down, murmuring magic spells to heal himself.
Merlin seemed to be feeling better. He was hugging his legs, burying his head in his knees, curling up into a small ball. Arthur couldn't see his expression, but he could hear faint sobs. Merlin was crying, sobbing and choking, apologizing to Arthur.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Arthur. I couldn't save Camelot. I'm sorry."
It took Merlin a long time to recover. Arthur used to tell jokes to try to cheer up Merlin when he hadn't laughed for three days. But now, Merlin can't hear Arthur's voice or see him. Arthur had even lost count how long it has been since Merlin last laughed.
Since the fall of Camelot, Merlin no longer left Avalon. Every day, he would wait by the shores of Avalon Lake from sunrise to sunset, regardless of wind or rain. Arthur stood by Merlin's side, day after day, with their hands overlapping. Though there was no physical touch, the sight of their hands merging together warmed Arthur's heart. He hoped that one day, he would actually be able to hold that hand.
Merlin's life still went on. Over the course of several centuries, too many things have happened. The Black Death ravaged for three hundred years, and Merlin used magic to heal some of the people afflicted by the disease, but he couldn't save too many. Nearly a third of Albion's people died. Watching Merlin become gloomy due to the painful deaths of people, tirelessly working to heal patients, he became even more emaciated in a sickly way. Arthur had questioned once why he couldn't return yet. But Avalon never answered.
The shadow of the Black Death loomed over Albion, and in order to survive, people began turning to pagan beliefs. Religious wars erupted, and the gallows and the stake were once again erected. Arthur watched all of this, as if seeing Camelot and his father.
Tragedy strikes again.
Only this time, Arthur was in unbearable pain. Because the person bound on the stake was Merlin.
Arthur watched as the ignorant people, whose lives had been saved by Merlin, lit torches and shouted to burn him alive. Arthur's cries and attempts to stop them were in vain. The thatch and firewood beneath Merlin's feet were mercilessly ignited, and the cruel flames slowly consumed him. Merlin's eyes were filled with fear and helplessness as he struggled desperately, but he couldn't break free from the shackles that bound him. He didn't even dare to use his magic in front of this foolish crowd.
Arthur smelled the charred scent of meat in the air, heard Merlin's hoarse screams of his name, and felt a wave of nausea that made him kneel to the ground and vomit. He hated the unfairness of the world, hated Avalon for not letting him return, hated that he had to watch Merlin suffer and be unable to do anything about it. He shouted to the sky- God, if there is a god, please don't let Merlin bear all of this! I am willing to take his place, willing to do anything for him!
God did not respond to him. The execution ended, and people scattered, leaving Merlin still bound to the stake. Arthur stumbled forward, and what he saw made his heart stop. Merlin was on the pyre, his body covered in burns, his skin charred black, and his wounds revealing bone.
Arthur used the magic bestowed upon him by Avalon to sense, but could not sense Merlin's breath or his heartbeat. He was dead-he was dead-.
Freya and Lancelot also rushed over, and it was only then that Arthur realized he was in tears. The three of them couldn't touch Merlin, they couldn't save him. Merlin died, Arthur's beloved died so tragically and undignified, not even leaving behind a complete body.
Arthur's tears fell on Merlin's face, Freya and Lancelot were crying the same. Something miraculous happened, wherever the tears of the three of them passed through, wounds began to gradually heal, and a faint heartbeat started to rise and fall beneath Merlin's chest. They looked at all of this in shock, wondering what on earth was going on.
Ygraine appeared and said, "You are the Children of Avalon, your tears are the Lake of Avalon, only you can save him."
Two days later, Merlin finally opened his eyes.
Merlin stopped talking to people and became isolated from the world. He even turned himself into an old man. Arthur was heartbroken, he didn't want to see Merlin living so cautiously, but he couldn't do anything about it. The Industrial Revolution erupted, and steam chimneys rose one after another on the land of Albion, with choking thick fog enveloping the entire land. The gods sent acidic rain from the sky, but they couldn't extinguish humanity's desire for wealth. The herbs that Merlin planted next to his cottage withered, even if Merlin used magic to take care of them, they only had a brief resurgence and would soon die again.
Merlin's body also began to weaken, and he couldn't even get out of bed when the smog was severe. Freya told Arthur that it was because Merlin's power came from nature, and human destruction of nature would cause Merlin to lose his power. Arthur remembered the past when he and Merlin went to the White Mountain, Merlin said in the forest that everything there he could feel was full of life, every tree, every leaf, every insect. As if the world was vibrating, as if everything is much more than itself. At that time, Arthur thought he was just a sensitive girl, but now, looking at the pale Merlin, he only wanted to give all the flowers in the world to the man in front of him.
Human desire and greed invites war. However, the turmoil in Albion did not make Avalon let Arthur back. The Battle of Britannia was fought over the skies of Albion. Everywhere there were charred wreckage and burning flames, mutilated bodies and crying people.
Merlin was terrified of fire. That execution became a nightmare in the deepest recesses of his soul. He avoids war, but the flames of war still mercilessly burn into Avalon.
Soldiers organized the people to take shelter in the air-raid shelter to avoid the air strikes. Merlin didn't want to leave his home in Avalon, but had no choice but to follow the army. Arthur wasn't able to follow Merlin too far, he stayed behind and guarded Merlin's little house with Lancelot and Freya.
When Merlin was leaving, he took only a few pieces of luggage from the house with him. Arthur saw that those were things that belonged to him from his time in Camelot - a bright red cape embroidered with the Pendragon dragon, and the sigil of his mother's family that he had given to Merlin.
It was several years before Merlin returned to Avalon. It was the longest time Arthur had ever been apart from Merlin. Every day in Avalon, Arthur missed Merlin. His thoughts were consumed by Merlin, and the sound of the deathly roar of the Stuka fighter planes in the sky made Arthur's heart race. He didn't know how Merlin was doing, or if he was still alive. Every minute, every second, Arthur longed for Merlin. These past few years had been a painful torment for Arthur.
Then Arthur realized that he was only separated from Merlin for a few years, yet he was in such agony. Meanwhile, Merlin had already been separated from him for several centuries.
The war is over. Albion is rapidly developing like an arrow released from a full bow. After the war, skyscrapers are rising from the once desolate land, as if by magic, but it is not magic, it is technology. Arthur and Merlin witnessed all of this together.
Merlin still remains alone. Since the burning in the 17th century, Merlin has never made friends with anyone again, and conversations with people are only for the sake of basic survival. With the birth of the internet in the 21st century, Merlin's interactions with others have decreased even further. Arthur hasn't heard Merlin speak or seen him drop his disguise in a long time. He feels like he's almost forgotten what Merlin's voice sounds like and what his real face looks like.
Arthur shared Merlin's bed every night, even though Merlin could never feel him.
Merlin did as he had every day for over a thousand years. Wake up, wash up, come to the shores of Avalon Lake, and wait for the day to unfold. After the Industrial Revolution, people began to worship science and dispel superstitions. The fading of faith and environmental destruction have weakened the power of the old religion. Unicorns and dragons no longer exist in the world, and Merlin may be the only remaining relic of the old religion in this world.
His magic is also weakening, and maintaining the aging spell already requires him to exert all his efforts. He doesn't interact with people and his temper is not quite good, becoming a well-known eccentric old man in the Avalon region. Some delinquent teenagers nearby always mock him, pointing and whispering behind his back, but Merlin doesn't have the energy to deal with them.
If Merlin had known that they would cause such a malicious incident, he would not have let them go unchecked.
Merlin rode a shared bicycle along the road back home from the lakeside, and saw one after another bright red fire trucks speeding along the winding mountain road with sirens blaring.
Fire. It makes Merlin extremely uncomfortable. The sound of the fire truck's siren feels like blades slicing through his body. Merlin doesn't know where the fire started, he just prays that he won't catch a glimpse of any flames, otherwise he might vomit last night's dinner.
He turned a corner on his bike and saw thick black smoke rising from the familiar direction on the mountain. Merlin felt a chill running down his spine.
God, please don't let it be his house.
Destiny always enjoys playing tricks on Merlin. Since the time of Camelot, the more Merlin doesn't want something to happen, the more it will happen. Modern people have named this phenomenon after a engineer named Murphy, it seems that destiny is not only against Merlin.
The shared bicycle lay on the ground, as Merlin stared blankly at the several fire trucks parked outside his little wooden house, with firefighters using water hoses to extinguish the raging fire engulfing his home.
The flames engulfed Merlin's cottage. It had stood here since the Middle Ages, built with highly flammable wood, yet it had survived the air raids during the Battle of Britain. But now, It was burned beyond recognition.
Merlin arrived trembling in his legs, completely weak and powerless, he even felt it was incredible that he could still stand.
He wanted to escape. Fire, black smoke, excruciating pain tearing through his body, terrifying memories surrounding him. But-
- Arthur's cape, the sigil of Ygraine that Arthur had given him was still at home. Right there, in the fire that can burn everything, reducing it all to ashes. No, no, no-
Merlin ran towards the fire like mad, disregarding everything, desperately trying to save everything he had left.
That was all he had, his everything. Over twelve hundred years, it was all he managed to hold on to. Merlin pleaded with the God not to take them away.
God never showed mercy to Merlin. He was held back by firefighters, and Merlin, who was already weak, couldn't break free from the strong grip of the firefighters. The intensity of the fire rendered Merlin unable to use his magic, and all he could do was watch - watch as his life was mercilessly stripped away by the flames.
A few hours later, the fire was extinguished. The cause of the fire was determined to be arson, and the police arrived to review the surveillance footage in the vicinity. Someone handed Merlin a cup of hot coffee, but he just stared blankly at the calm surface of the water in the cup, as if everything he had was gone.
He stood up, the police and firefighters were still busy, no one paid attention to him. Merlin walked down the mountain restlessly, it was dark, only dim moonlight illuminated the mountain path. He stumbled and fell several times, but he didn't care, he had only one destination, his destination was only one place.
Avalon.
Merlin walked to the edge of the lake and knelt down on the pebbled shore. He was completely exhausted, and he cried out desperately for the name of Freya.
"Freya-! Please! Please give me the sword--! I can't - I can't take it anymore!"
Freya did not respond to him. Merlin got up on his own and walked towards the center of Avalon. The icy lake water submerged his feet, ankles, thighs, until his waist was completely immersed in the lake.
Merlin exerted all his strength, using his entire body's magic to summon the sword under the lake. The Excalibur, hidden in the lake for centuries, responded to his call. Merlin tightly gripped the sword, the Excalibur, forged by the breath of a dragon. Kilgharrah had said that only Arthur could wield this sword, and that anyone else who tried would bring disaster. But Merlin had no time to consider these prophecies. After waiting for twelve hundred years, he was broken and weary. He longed for release, believing that the enchanted sword could kill Morgana, and surely it could kill him too.
Merlin began to shed the guise of aging, for he wanted to be Arthur's familiar form when he saw him again.
He aimed the sword at his own chest and closed his eyes. The image of Arthur appeared in his mind. His blonde hair, azure eyes, and crimson cape, smiling at Merlin in the courtyard of Camelot.
Arthur did as he had every day for over a thousand years. Accompanying Merlin as he woke up, washed up, and went to Lake Avalon, folding his hands on top of Merlin's and waiting by the lake all day together with him.
Arthur knew that Merlin had been waiting for him all along. But Arthur couldn't let Merlin know that he had actually been by his side all this time. It was more cruel than anything else. Arthur couldn't help but wonder if it was the Pendragon family's persecution of the old religion that forced him to endure such painful torment for over a thousand years. Arthur was willing to pay the price for his father's slaughter and his own ignorance. But what about Merlin? He hadn't done anything wrong, so why should he suffer? His only fault was encountering Arthur, the idiot, and his only fault was falling in love with Arthur, the prat.
Arthur didn't know why, Avalon never answered.
It was getting late and Merlin had finished the tea in his bottle. Although Arthur couldn't feel Merlin's presence, he could guess that Merlin was freezing all over. It had been a disappointing day, and Merlin's eyes were empty and numb. He wearily pushed a strange vehicle with two metal wheels back to the cottage. Arthur followed behind him, and suddenly he saw flickering flames on the mountain.
An ominous feeling spread in his chest. Arthur's heart pounded, and it seemed that Merlin noticed too. Arthur left Merlin's side. That's the advantage of being a ghost, not being limited by physical constraints. Merlin might need to take a detour along the mountain road to get back to the cottage, but Arthur only needed to float up and easily reach there in a straight line.
Arthur saw Merlin's wooden house burning. The fire brought his thoughts back hundreds of years ago. He shook his head to get rid of the bad memories. He summoned Lancelot and Freya from the lake, and they rushed to the scene. However, the three of them were ghostd and couldn't touch physical objects. Their tears were futile against the raging fire.
The red steel behemoth arrived at Merlin's cottage, from which several individuals in bright red uniforms and masked faces disembarked. This sight momentarily evoked in Arthur the image of Camelot's knights in battle armor and red capes, who were as heroic as the knights, they exhibited bravery, raising long pipes from which powerful jets of water spouted. Arthur and his companions could only stand by, praying for the swift extinguishing of the raging fire.
Arthur heard the sound of metal falling to the ground, turned his head and saw Merlin standing by the roadside with a terrified expression on his face, the metal two-wheeler collapsed at his feet.
Merlin began to breathe unevenly, his chest heaving intensely. Arthur guessed that he must have been reminded of his own experience of being burned alive. His heart ached with unbearable pain, and he immediately walked over to Merlin's side. He saw Merlin trembling, desperately trying to suppress his nausea. Arthur once again felt helpless and frustrated. Merlin needed someone to comfort him, but Arthur couldn't provide that for him.
Merlin suddenly walked towards the fire, Arthur was greatly shocked, and he instinctively reached out to stop Merlin, but his hand just passed through Merlin's body.
Merlin cried in pain, wanting to rush into the fire. He struggled desperately, but couldn't break free from the control of the person in the bright red uniform. Arthur felt his heart breaking, as he understood that Merlin wanted to plunge into his deepest nightmare, just to save the cape and sigil that he carefully touched everyday, hidden under his pillow.
And Arthur could only watch helplessly. He couldn't do anything.
Eventually, the fire was extinguished. Merlin, pale and tear-stained, sat paralyzed on the ground, staring blankly at the remains of the small wooden house. Arthur couldn't help but crouch down and embrace Merlin, though it was a hollow embrace, as neither of them could feel each other. Merlin had once asked Arthur for a hug in Camelot, but Arthur had been too shy to give him the hug he deserved. Now, Arthur deeply regretted not being able to hug Merlin.
Merlin stood up and stumbled down the mountain, Arthur didn't know what he was going to do, so he could only follow behind him. Merlin walked as if he were a lifeless corpse, stumbling and falling, only to get up again and continue walking downhill.
Arthur realized that Merlin was going to Avalon.
Arthur saw Merlin kneeling on the shore of the lake as he cried out Freya's name in anguish. Arthur's hair stood on end as he suddenly guessed Merlin's intention. No, no, it couldn't be -
Freya also walked up to Arthur. Freya looked at Merlin on the shore, asking her for the sword. Tears kept falling from Freya's eyes as she looked at Arthur, her expression filled with despair, shaking her head desperately.
Freya did not answer Merlin, but Merlin did not give up either. He stood up and walked into Avalon himself. Arthur felt his blood freeze, he couldn't even muster the strength to take a step. Lancelot rushed forward, reaching out his arm in a desperate attempt to stop his friend, but his efforts were in vain. Merlin walked step by step towards the depths of the lake, until the water submerged half of his body.
"Arthur! Stop Merlin now!" Lancelot shouted in desperation.
Arthur felt his legs heavy as if they were filled with lead. He stumbled forward and stood in front of Merlin, seeing his sword gleaming with a bloodthirsty silver light, already in Merlin's hands. The Excalibur had been submerged in the lake for over a thousand years, yet it remained as sharp as ever, cutting through iron like mud. With just a gentle thrust, it could effortlessly take away the enemy's life.
- It can also take Merlin's life.
Perhaps this is the end, with the death, Merlin can finally be freed from centuries of endless waiting. Perhaps they might have a chance to reunite in Avalon. Arthur has the opportunity to tell Merlin how much he loved him.
"Arthur! You can't let Merlin die!" Lancelot shouted from behind him.
Arthur snapped back to reality. Lancelot was right. Merlin had been waiting for Arthur's return for over twelve hundred years, enduring so much suffering, and still waiting. And if he died, who could guarantee that he would truly go to Avalon? Merlin might actually die, and Arthur might never see him again.
Avalon! If there is a greatest need for Albion, it is now. The man, who has silently guarded Albion for over a thousand years, even when cruelly burned alive by her people with torches, has never left this land. He is about to die, killed by Arthur's Excalibur, and Albion will no longer be cherished by the child of magic.
Arthur felt the coldness and dampness of the waters of Avalon's lake, and his outstretched hand was no longer empty, but did indeed hold something - the hand of Merlin holding the Excalibur.
"Merlin, this is your king's command. You are not allowed to seek death," Arthur said through gritted teeth.
Merlin shivered and slowly opened his eyes. He stared at Arthur in front of him, as if he was looking at the most incredible thing in the world.
"Arthur. Is it you... Is it really you?" Merlin said in disbelief, his voice trembling.
"It's me," Arthur smiled, his eyes filled with tenderness, as if he were back in Camelot, watching Merlin and the knights banter and joke around in their campsite one day.
"I'm back, Merlin." Arthur said.
Merlin took a deep breath, seemingly smiling but also choking. His hand loosened, and the sword in his hand once again fell into the lake. Arthur saw Freya and Lancelot nod at them as they entered the lake and Freya smiled as she took the sword away.
"....Arthur!" Merlin reached out and tightly embraced Arthur, who finally hugged him back. They were still standing in the middle of the lake, with moonlight shining on their bodies and the surface of the lake, as if draping them in a layer of silver veil.
"Merlin. My love, my love. Merlin. " Arthur kept murmuring in Merlin's ear. For twelve hundred years, he had muttered these words to himself countless times, and this time, his love finally cut through to the ears of his most loyal servant, best friend, bravest warlock, and the man he loved the most.
for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again.