Merlin thumped past the river, turning his head slightly to behold it; once so mighty, he never knew quite how magic faded out of the world but it had, around the time he had sealed off Camelot, when he had finally sealed the last statue of the old relm. Gwen's. But today he saw something, a shift in the water. He moved past the hedge down the bank towards the river, the water was rippling out, as though something was moving inwards.
"Alasuendi." he moved his hand towards the water, his eyes flashing like fire. A shape moved upwards, slowly it became clearer and clearer, then he realised. It was a boat, lined with wood; resting in the boat was: a cape, red with the crest of a golden dragon, a mail tunic and a single brace of shoulder armour. He pulled of his rucksack and stuffed the gear into it. He knew it was a sign, he must return to Camelot, break the magic binding the ancient Kingdom shut. His only question was simply why. Albion, or Great Britain as it was now known, was in no turmoil; but he knew what he must do. He spread his arms wide and closed his eyes, allowing the winds of magic to sweep him up, carrying him to where he willed.

He stood at the base of the hill range, anyone who passed here now simply found they had something else they must do and they would turn back. No one had stepped past this point for a thousand years. Merlin felt his eyes wet with tears, this was the place where he had bid goodbye to everything, Kilgarrah had given him his last gift here, a message, and a breath to seal the old world shut from the new. He did not open the gate, he simply fell to his knees and wept,
"O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!" he called out through choked sobs, words he had not utter in a very long time. No dragon came, he had not expected it to but he heard a voice.
"My last gift to you young Warlock, for even we dragons have spirits I can always be found here. Old Friend." the voice of Kilgarrah filled his head as the pile of rock beside him shifted to form a clear shape, a perched dragon. He turned back to the gate only to see the shimmering clear light transcend into the air, to reveal the gates to the lower town. Opened to reveal the city of Camelot in all it's glory. As the Warlock stepped over the threshold every emotion came flooding back to him.
"Wait, Kilgarrah. You said Arthur was destined to return, no one else. Why did you tell me to make the statues?" silence. Then, in the soft wise voice,
"Arthur was never anything without his friends, his return means their return."
"So who's lives are paid in their turn?" he asked
"You already know Merlin."a
"The citizens of Albion." he said. The dragon voice fell silent.

Merlin moved up through the town, the houses and shops stood just as they had when they had been left. Without thinking he turned left down a narrow alleyway, past the blacksmiths forge and up to the wooden door. We pushed it in with a creak, everything was untouched - though it had been left long before the fall of Camelot - and the thought of all the memories here made Merlin catch a sob in his throat. As he moved upwards to the palace he passed through the courtyard and paused.
"Camelot will rise again! And unite Albion when it breaks!" he yelled at the sky. Then more softly,
"I'll see you again friends. Like I promised." he breathed in deeply. Then a thought, one he had not pondered in hundreds of years, crossed his mind, what if he had let Mordred die, he wouldn't have lost Arthur. He cast the thought aside and walked the stone steps into the castle. Home, he smiled as he walked through the entrance hall: the throne room, Arthur's chambers and then into the physician's chambers. Merlin welled with joy as he looked around, every book, every bottle, was exactly how he had left it. And just ahead. He pushed open the door to his old room, if he had any tears left he supposed he might have cried again; every single memory of all his life in Camelot flooded into his ancient mind.
"I guess I'll be waiting here a while." he said to himself.

Fresh into his old robes (which had been cast on the floor for a thousand years) he decided to move down to the dungeon. He lit a light at the tip of his staff as he moved down into the chamber of the Great's. The square room bore 5 statues, represented in the likeness Merlin remembered them most fondly (before Arthur's death). To his right immediately was Sir Gawain, at the foot of his statue was a tablet, "Strength. One of history's bravest. Fear touched him not in life may it not in death.". Opposite Sir Gawain, to his left, was Sir Percival "Steadfast. The strength of 10 men. The heart of 50. Grace the next relm with your passion." Next to Sir Gawain was an old man, with long hair and a droopy eyelid. Gaius. "The healing hand of the world. None will ever care more. Watch over all in the heavens.". Merlin lingered a little longer on his statue, blinking a wetness away. Opposite Gaius was Sir Lyon "The truest of any who have or will ever live. Loyalty stronger than even Morgana. Stay true, even in the next life.". And in the centre of the room, facing the door, Queen Guinevere. On her tablet the words were few "The love of the once and future king and all the land.". He bowed his head. These were the bodies of his friends, cast in an ancient magic. He looked at the faces of his friends.
"One day you will walk these halls again with me."

That night Merlin laid back in his bed thinking, when. When will it finally come? How long would he wait for Arthur? He had left his armour in his chambers. When the 5 came back they would remember and understand, Arthur would be very confused. He had a lot of time, he decided to dedicate it to finding a plan.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Any reviews at all are much appreciated so please do.