My Dear Friend,

The waters of Avalon have dried, and, with them, much of the magic that used to flow freely through this land. I think perhaps even you would feel the difference now.

For my part, I can only manage a few parlour tricks at the best of times. There is still magic in the Crystal Cave, of course, as there always will be. I am an old, old man now, but the Cave sustains me and has done so for centuries. For now, it is enough. I no longer concern myself with the great affairs of mankind, except to watch for the signs that might mean your return. I hope you'll forgive me for saying so, but I can't help but hope and believe that when you return to this world, the magic will return as well.

I've written to you a number of times over the years, concealing the letters in places where I hope you might find one or two of them someday, with small enchantments to hide them from anyone but you. Sadly, I fear that this will be the last, as even that small bit of magic is becoming difficult. The "great sorcerer" is now not much more than an eccentric old hermit.

Should you find this letter, don't trouble yourself overmuch to locate the others. They all contain more or less the same message: my own blatherings, what I can tell you of the goings-on in Camelot after your passing, and a bit of history as it pertains to Camelot. It is my hope that I'll be able to tell you all of this in person. I have to believe that my own continued existence means that I will live to see you again – otherwise, what's the point? Still, better to be safe. Besides, who else do I have to blather at?

So, Camelot. It goes without saying that your passing was hard on Guinevere, but she bore it like the queen she was. You would have been proud of her, Arthur. She continued your work, making and strengthening alliances, not just with neighboring kingdoms, but all over Albion and even beyond. She received several offers of marriage from kings and princes, but these she always declined.

In the end, after many years, she married Sir Leon. I wasn't privy to her thoughts at that time, having long since retreated from the world, but it is my belief that they were and remained good friends, and that the marriage was done to secure the throne for Leon's son by his first wife, who died in childbirth. You would have liked him. He was a good lad, a mighty knight, and a good king when the time came.

I did return to Camelot when Gwen passed, in time to say goodbye and reminisce a bit about the good old days. We buried her at Avalon.

Leon's descendants ruled well, but, as you probably know by now, even without Morgana the Saxons kept coming, along with Angles, Norse and everybody else looking for good land. As ally after ally fell, Camelot lost its wealth and power. The city was never taken while the population remained, but many of the people started to drift away to the West. Others went to live among the Saxons. Eventually, what remained was overtaken and burned.

Don't think for a moment that you failed, though. Camelot never perished in the minds of its people. They never stopped talking about you and the things you stood for. Your ideals gave our people a purpose, an identity, and they held on to that even through the centuries of Saxon rule. When the Normans came, they loved these stories of the king who stood against the Saxons and they took them to heart, adding to them and modeling their own kingdoms - here and elsewhere - after what they imagined your court was like. It was historically (and hysterically) inaccurate, of course, but they meant well. Those ideals have helped shaped this land's history ever since.

I suppose what I'm telling you is that you did much more than run a kingdom passably well. You fathered a nation.

Don't let it go to your head – it's big enough as it is.

As ever, your loyal and humble servant,

Merlin