Arthur's return
"Thank you."
This word, this painful memory was all that Merlin, the millennium sorcerer, dreamed for two long weeks. Each time, he awoke in tears and with an enormous pressure on his heart. How much longer will he have to wait? It has been over a thousand years. Kilgharrah was right: the story in which he, Guinevere, Arthur and several friends had been members of had lived long in the minds and spirits of man. Their mythical life became a legend. Over the centuries, it had changed and been stuffed with lies. Only the major point remained the same: Arthur will rise again when Albion's need is greatest. But this present time, it was no longer Albion... It was a remote corner of Britain, France, where the ruins of Camelot still littered the ground. The remains of the palace looked much more like simple stones now.
"I can't loose him! He's my friend!"
Merlin hadn't only expected the return of Arthur, he'd also watched the rest of the world change. The dead bodies of Guinevere, Uther and all former kings, queens, and knights of Camelot still rested quietly underground.
"Some lines have been foretold, Merlin. Arthur is not just a king. He is the once and future king. Take heart, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. It's been a privilege to know you young warlock."
In his sleep, Merlin turned to the side and magically changed to the youthful appearance he once had.
"Wake up!"
A voice whispered softly an order while in his dream he threw the magic sword, Excalibur, in the sacred lake.
"Arthur..."
"Merlin!"
Now the voice was clearer. Slowly it pulled him from his painful sleep and led him to hope, to rebirth. Where had he heard it before? So kind, so gentle, so old... She dated from before, from the previous centuries.
"Morgana!" Merlin cried, opening his eyes and cornering, with his powers, the intruder against the wall of his apartment.
"I come as a friend," she said. "It's time."
Merlin was suspicious, but he decided to listen to what she had to say. Strangely, her soul wasn't corrupt like before. He could feel it. She was like the Morgana before she became aware of her magical powers. She was good.
"Arthur will be reborn," she assured him slowly. "He'll be back today... At sunrise."
Merlin released her out of his magical grip. It has been centuries, why now? But there... He was desperate. Moreover, he felt no magic coming from Morgana's reincarnation. Had she been punished by having her powers taken away?
"No, Merlin..." Morgana said as if reading his mind. "Today is a new era. The time of magic is gone. There's only you. You're all that remain of the magical world of the old. In every life where I was reborn, I couldn't remember anything... Except in this life. I remember Merlin, everything. And I am deeply sorry."
"Why should I believe you?" Merlin asked, suspiciously.
"Because you don't have a choice," she said. "Arthur comes back in a few hours."
All his defenses lowered and he sighed heavily. For a minute, he simply thought. Morgana respected his silence. Still, without speaking, Merlin stood. He doesn't felt like he had any sleep. It was only when he saw his reflection in the mirror of his dresser that he deigned to say a few words:
"What... I'm young? I don't remember changing my appearance!"
"You did nothing," Morgana replied. "It's your destiny that has magically changed the way you look. The magic is part of you just like it's linked to your destiny."
Merlin looked at his old friend. Her serene face had a cheerful smile and her eyes sparkled with light. Her hair was even longer than he remembered. Her dark brown hair was straight and down to her bumps. She wore clothes of the twenty-first century, those all the youth wore today. Her makeup was impressive: it gave her a supernatural look. The Morgana who stood before him was no more than seventeen years old.
"How did you find me?" Merlin asked.
"It wasn't difficult. This building belongs to my parents and we live on the last two floors. The top one is my parent's home. The one below is where I live. It's a birthday present. So as I live here and I witnessed your arrival, I've followed you just since a few months ago. And today, you had locked your door by magic, but our fates have acted by themselves: they unlocked the door."
"I see... We'll better get there right away!"
Morgana smiled and glanced at Merlin's mismatched clothes. He slept in day clothes, those he had always worn before... while he was serving Arthur. They quietly left the apartment building and they walked to the sacred lake.
"At least there are still traces of our history," Morgana said quietly, looking at what was left of the tower in the distance.
Merlin stared silently before turning to the lake, the one who had haunted his memories and dreams for so long. He still had an hour to wait. He hoped, from the depths of his heart, that Morgana was right. He was impatient, even if he had had more than a thousand years of patience…
"Suppose he comes back today, how would you know that? " Merlin asked Morgana.
Morgana eyed him a burning glance of hope and understanding. He had the right to doubt her. So she began to explain calmly that she had received strange anonymous texts on her cellphone stating that Arthur would return today and most of her friends, all reincarnated characters of the Arthurian legend, had whispered to her unconsciously this week that Arthur would rise again. Her friends were all knights of the Round Table and Guinevere. Just when she finished her explanation, an iPhone 5 S materialized in Merlin's right hand. Immediately, his magic acted: he understood the mechanism. He opened it and saw a text message. Morgana read over his shoulder.
«Merlin it's Arthur. I'm at the lake, come get me.»
Stunned, Merlin hesitated a bit before typing:
«I'm already here.»
A piece of sun broke the balance of the night on the horizon and the middle of the lake began to shine with a golden glow. It was dawn and Merlin felt the magic of the lake complete the atmosphere. The gold spot began to gush from the lake. Quietly, Arthur, dressed in his eternal Camelot knight armor, emerged from the light. It was an entirely mythical event. Merlin, under the influence of emotions, staggered a little. Tears ran down his cheeks, which were stretched into a huge smile. He put his hand to his mouth and chuckled. Merlin was overjoyed and his eyes never left Arthur who, too, was smiling. Morgan moved back a few meters to leave them some privacy. The magic, in the form of a golden carpet, allowed Arthur not to sink into the lake. When he reached the shore, Merlin literally threw himself into his best friend's arms. Arthur's armor squeaked when he hugged him by saying, again, his last words:
"Thank you."
There were fresh tears pouring on the warlock's cheeks. Moments later, Arthur took his hands and placed them on his most faithful servant's shoulders.
"I'm sorry it took so long."
"For over a thousand years, my friend."
Those two were so busy cherishing the moment of their reunion that they weren't concerned about what was happening around them. It was only when they heard Morgana scream their names that they saw the girl coming towards Arthur, Excalibur in hand. Merlin stumbled again and Arthur had to support him.
"Freya," Merlin murmured, fixing the newcomer.
She was as beautiful as he remembered.
"Sire, I believe this is yours," she told Arthur, handing him the sacred sword.
The moment Arthur touched the weapon with his fingertips, his armor and Merlin's and Freya's clothes began to radiate light to the point where they couldn't distinguish any fabric or any metal. Seconds later, the light faded, giving way to fashion clothing of the twenty-first century.
"Albion's need was at its greatest..." Arthur whispered. "It was you, Merlin. It was your need. You're all that remains of Albion. You can now end this life with us and all the others."
"Not in war but in peace," said Freya.
"Without malice," Morgana continued.
"Lady Morgana," Arthur whispered.
"Only Morgana in this life... Arthur," she said.
"She's good, she got no more magic," Merlin said.
"I know," the king replied.
Suddenly Excalibur began to shine in Arthur's hand.
"Oh yeah..." he said. "Merlin... I don't need it anymore... You're entitled to a wish. For your kindness, your perseverance, your patience and your courage... for all that you have demonstrated during this millennium."
"I..." Merlin stuttered, taking the sword.
"Wish what you want," the king gently told him.
The sword was shining and appeared to be surrounded by flames as powerful as the fire spat by Aithusa on the Knights of Camelot in the battle with the Saxons.
"She knows your innermost desire," Arthur said. "You deserve this vow."
Merlin looked up. In the distance, behind the radiant face of Arthur, he saw Morgana's friends coming closer. He recognized Lancelot, Gwaine, Leon, Guinevere... and all the others among them. They remembered today. They were the reincarnations... but it wasn't really them... He was glad to see them, just like he was thrilled to see Freya resurrected. But it wasn't his timeline... He should have died a thousand years ago. The sword became a golden glow that encompassed all the people of the Arthurian legend. Merlin wouldn't have needed to make his wish, but he said it anyway:
"I wish I've never been too late to the lake the day Arthur died."
The others, somewhere in the golden light, protested because they were not yet aware of Merlin's desire. For them, it meant restarting the story. But for Merlin, it was the right decision: it was the continual progress of their real life. Merlin saw the trees shrink, the tower rebuilt, Kilgharrah and Aithusa reborn and even if he was not at the right location, the castle of Camelot shine beautifully... Everything spined around him and he returned to over 1000 years ago, Arthur before him. The lake was behind them. He had been saved. The blood stain was still visible, but the wound wasn't. In Arthur's eyes, he saw memories of previous times.
"This is where our true place is," Arthur stated. "This is our real time."
Then, following Merlin's nod, the two good friends threw themselves into the arms of one another. They shared a few laughs while wondering if Guinevere and others remembered the future where they had stayed? Merlin cast a last look at Kilgharrah and the sacred lake. They'll be alive in a new life in the future, anyway. Thus the legend was to be: they will live forever.
THE END