(AN: I'm baaaacckk! :D I know, I know. It's been a while. This is a fic that picks up after series five ended. I really love this show and wanted it to continue, so here's my spin on things! Hope you guys enjoy it and don't forget to leave a review! Much love, Haya.)

Disclaimer: Johnny Capps and Julian Murphy are the creators of the BBC show, Merlin. I own nothing.

The rain drizzled lightly in Wales; the roads were drenched by the constant rainfall. A group of high school students made their way along a winding road to reach their school. The young adults laughed and joked with each other without a care in the world. Amongst their friendly banter, they noticed an old man walking the same stretch of path. They had heard stories about the old man. It seemed that as far back as their great grandparents, this man walked down the same road day in and day out. The teenagers skidded out of his way, avoiding his touch like the plague. They missed his look of sorrow and loneliness as they continued on their trip.

The old man pulled his jacket tighter around him and picked up his pace, eager to reach his destination. He reached the small grass area that led to the lake ahead. As he made his way down the muddy slope, he felt the same throbbing in his heart as the time he casted his friend away. He knelt down next to the bank and picked up three pebbles from under the water. He bounced them in his palm before closing his hand into a tight fist. He brought his hand up to his lips and muttered an ancient language. His eyes flashed a brilliant gold and when he opened his hand, the pebbles had turned into three bright blue butterflies. He watched them fly away before he found a shaded spot under a tree where he sat himself under.

"Hweorfan geong." He muttered once again and to his command, his wrinkles began to disappear, his white hair began to shorten and change into an ebony colour and his strength as a young man began to return. Merlin pulled the hat off his head and ran a hand through his hair. The young warlock sighed and leant against the tree to relax. Even as an immortal being, the aging spell used up most of his magic. It was tiresome, but it was the best disguise he had, apart from Dolma.

Merlin stared out at the lake. The years that had passed changed the landscape drastically. The black pillar that once stood out against the bright blue sky had weathered and crumbled and reduced to half its size. The once crystal blue waters of Avalon had turned into a musky green, filled with various chemicals and rubbish that had piled up over the years. Merlin let out a heavy sigh, everything had changed so much. He wondered if Arthur would recognise any of it when he returned. If, screamed out a voice in his mind. Merlin shook his head, he would come back, and he will re-unite the land of Albion once again.

Merlin's mind wandered back to the twenty fourth of December. The exact day that Merlin said his last goodbyes to his oldest and dearest friend. His eyes began to well up, much like that day years ago.

It had been two hours but Merlin stayed rooted in his position, staring at the lake before him. Pain and anger surged through his entire body but he made no attempt to change anything. Tears slid down his cheeks rapidly but he didn't wipe them away. He knew that he couldn't stop crying, even if he tried. He was overwhelmed by grief.

He watched the small row boat that carried the King's body down the lake of Avalon. He couldn't bring himself to light it on fire, nor could he find it in himself to move from his position. His eyes were simply fixated on the boat that drifted ever so slowly. His mind told him to go back to Camelot, but he knew he couldn't face any of them. Percival had caught up with Merlin and discovered that his King had died; he travelled back to Camelot to let the people know. Percival had tried to convince Merlin to join him back to Camelot, but the young Warlock refused. Percival knew that Arthur was Merlin's oldest friend and he needed time to grieve by himself, much like Gwen.

So, Merlin was left alone once again at the lake. Hours, days, passed and the young Warlock stayed in the same spot, save for hunting for food or retrieving herbs. Day in and day out, he sat and watched the lake. Some days he cried, some days he told Arthur stories of his hunting adventures and some days he just sat in silence, not moving a muscle.

The eve of Samhain, Merlin sat by a camp fire under a tree close to the shore. He felt the veil to the spirit world thinning. He was anxious about this moment. Would he see Arthur? Would they be able to talk? Merlin rubbed the sweat from his palms onto his pants. He hugged his jacket tighter around his thin frame as he tried to warm himself. Merlin was serving himself a bowl of stew before he felt a massive surge of energy hit him. He knew that it was the stroke of midnight. He looked around trying to see if Arthur would show himself, but instead he was greeted with another. She looked just as deathly as the last time he saw her. The Cailleach.

"Emrys," She greeted him with a hoarse whisper. He nodded in acknowledgement and tried to hide his disappointment. "I am only here for a short time Emrys, but I have a proposition."

"Do tell," He said firmly. He didn't want to 'play nice' with the gatekeeper. His last memory of her was the sacrifice of Lancelot on the Isle of the Blessed. He wasn't fond of the woman before him.

"Immortality." She stated simply. Merlin raised an eyebrow and motioned for her to continue. "Emrys, there are troubling times ahead. Arthur will return and bring about peace to the land of Albion, but he cannot do it alone. He needs you to guide him through the new world. It will be some time in the future and I fear if the Once and Future King is awoken in that time, he will fear the new world."

"So," Merlin started "you're telling me that I have to be immortal so I can help Arthur in this new age? Why not just send us both there?"

"No. You must live in this time for you to be able to assist your King. It would be too difficult for you to complete your task if you have no knowledge of the new world." Merlin nodded in understanding. But something in the back of his mind told him that there was a price to pay.

"What's the catch?" The Cailleach smiled at him sadly. Merlin swallowed hard and waited for her to continue.

"For wherever there is good, there is evil. In darkness, there is light. With love, comes hate. For you to become immortal, the balance of the world must be restored. The only way to restore this balance is to immortalise your enemy. Meaning, Morgana Le Fay." Merlin's eyes widened to the size of the bowl in his hands.

"NO! I will not bring her back!" The Cailleach's eyes narrowed.

"Do not think of yourself Emrys. If the world is to live in peace, you must be immortal. This is merely the small price to pay – "

"Small?! That woman is the reason why Arthur is dead in the first place!"

"Some lives have been foretold, Arthur isn't just a king. He is the Once and Future King." Merlin's mind wandered to the words of Kilgarrah before he too died after Arthur. He nodded to the Cailleach.

"When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. " He finished for the great gatekeeper. The Cailleach bowed her head once. "I'll do it. But if she does anything to harm the balance of this world, this bargain will be broken immediately. That is my final word Cailleach." The Cailleach's dead eyes glimmered for a moment before returning to their usual blackness. She then dispersed.

Merlin wondered if she would keep to her word. Then his thoughts came to a crashing halt. He brought Morgana back to life from the dead. Merlin abruptly stood up and began pacing. He needed to get to her corpse before she awoke, she would need him to explain why she came back to life. He suddenly felt nauseas. What would she say? What would she do? Merlin held his head with both hands and groaned loudly. What had he gotten himself into?

Stay tuned for chapter 2!