Merlin chuckled as several young children pulled on their mother's or father's hand and pointed at him with exclaims of, "Look, look, it's Dumbledore!"

The adults gave Merlin sympathetic smiles and some complimented his outfit as they pulled their children away. Others, who did not have children with them, ignored him and went about their business or made conversation with him on the materials used. Merchants greeted him as the old friend he was between sales to Renaissance enthusiasts with good deals of money. His worn boots warned him of the rocks beneath his feet upon the warm earth and his tall, oak staff kept him from falling over them. The wind's gentle breath came and went and made his long red robes and silver beard flow with it.

It was events like this one – Renaissance Festivals – that made Merlin's life much more than the dull boring normal of this age. Outside of these occasions, people walked, flew, and drove around being complete ignorant prats of the things they did to Mother Nature and magic with all their technology and building. Merlin figured they'd end up screwing themselves up so far that they would not be able to even comprehend in a minor amount the power of the world upon which they lived and the strength of its pure magic. Very few cared or even believed in magic and the purity of the Earth but decided that science could explain any anomaly they were presented with. Fools, the lot of them.

The old sorcerer looked around him with a small sigh. They held this festival very near his home and they had not a clue. The Lake was maybe a 7 mile walk from where he stood and farther up was Camelot. Well, what remained of it. He wondered how Arthur would react if he ever came back. The King'd probably be devastated at the sight. Merlin understood well why he would react so.

Oh, wasn't the 21st century fantastic?

A few of his acquaintances knew him with the same face as the one that had beheld Arthur's death, but most – including these festivals – knew him as Emrys the Old. But before he journeyed home from the festival, he decided to visit the former and delighted in young bones beneath soft, fresh skin. Content and young, Merlin went and knocked on the flat door. A young woman somewhere in her late twenties with blue green, simple framed glasses and matching eyes opened the door.

"Merlin!" She grinned and ushered him in. Merlin smiled and received a hug he returned.

"Good evening, Noel." He said, "Faith around?"

"Mm-hm, she's in the kitchen doing homework." Noel brushed back a long strand of her bark brown hair behind her ear.

"Ah, how boring." Merlin grinned goofily.

"Agreed. I'm glad I don't have to anymore." She laughed, "Would you like some tea?"

"No, I'm good, just thought I'd drop by, see how you girls are doing." He shrugged.

"We're doing good." She smiled, "How're you?"

"I'm good, bit tired from the festival."

"Ah, I understand that entirely."

"Yeah." Merlin smiled, "We still on for our match on Wednesday?"

"Absolutely, as long as you're sure you want to have your ass handed to you again." Noel teased.

"Hey, I'm stronger than I look." He gave a small, mock pout.

"Sure you are." She grinned.

The mage stuck his tongue out at her, which caused her to laugh, "Alright, I have to get home."

"Okay, we'll see you then." The young woman nodded and gave him another hug before she walked him out.

After that, Merlin walked toward his home upon the road along the long line of hedges. He stopped at the clear view of the lake and looked toward its murky surface with the corner of his eye. Just as his gaze had begun to turn away, a figure burst from the water as though they tried to escape drowning. The mage spun toward the lake, surprised.

The next moment, Merlin was rushing into the lake to help whomever had emerged. They attempted to reach land but were obviously startled and unable to tell which way they should go. The sorcerer waved at the person, happy to have already changed and he called, "Over here!"

The figure moved toward him much slower than Merlin moved toward them. He was soon aware the person was female and worse still, bare skinned. The sorcerer dug through his messenger bag and was quick to draw out his red robes. They had soon met and Merlin had handed her the robes, eyes held at her face's height. Damp, long, dark blonde hair that clung to her face and fell into her soft face where it covered one of her two familiar, bright blue eyes. She stared at him in shock as she slipped on the robes without thought of her doings. Her lips moved for a moment as though she wished to speak but Merlin shook his head, "No, you need to get on solid ground. Patience please."

She, still in shock, allowed him to pull her to shore. That's when her voice finally found its way from her lips in a single, distinct word:

"Merlin."