The most important thing is not to remember, Merlin said to himself. Or was it to remember? Remember golden hair and deep, blue eyes, remember laughter and goodness and, no! Merlin shakes his head, remembering is bad, remembering hurts. He didn`t know how old he was, or why he waited, wait he waited for Art-, no, no, no, no, no. Oh, how it hurt. It burned like the fires of a dragon, like Kilg-, no like Pendr-, no not again. Merlin felt tears streak down his cheeks, of course he remembered. How could he ever forget him? His King, Arthur.