I don't own Merlin.
Preface:
I had known the fact long ago, that when I died it would be for Arthur. Arthur the man, the King, who ruled with his heart. Who would do anything for Camelot and her people. To die for someone such as Arthur Merlin thought that was a pretty good way to go, but now as he stares into the face of his once friend, brother Merlin watches the tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He repeats the same word over and over "Sorry."
Sorry? Sorry that he has nobody left? Nothing to live for? Sorry that the cruel hand of fate has ripped everything from him? Sorry that everyday he is closer and closer to the madness, the darkness that threatens to consume him? Merlin stared once again at Arthur confused by his apology but then a sharp pain tore threw his abdomen. He looked down to see a sword, a sword he had help create from what seems like forever ago.
"Oh" and then he understood.
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