CHAPTER 1: MERLIN
London rain. Ugh. Merlin hated the weather here. Why was it always so wet and cold all the time?
He frowned up at the sky, getting a face full of rain in response. Spluttering, he wiped his face on his jacket sleeve and continued walking along the sidewalk.
As he walked, he put in his earphones and started listening to King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.
"I come of King Arthur's court! He who is the greatest king-" Prat, thought Merlin— "in the land! Stand fast, cur, so that I may joust with you in the name of my noble lord!"
Merlin had to snort. Funny how much stories changed after a few centuries. Well, Arthur is still pretty okay, he grumbled. I'm just an old guy who gave him his shiny new sword in the beginning! Bet he'd laugh his arse off if he ever found out.
Gradually the rain subsided.
Finally, thought Merlin. Why couldn't Arthur have made Albion in the Bahamas or something?
He sighed. No matter how much he tried to ignore the feeling, it still crept up on him. He was weary. Immensely. He had been wandering the world for more than a thousand years, looking for Arthur, and yet there was no sign of him, of anyone from the old days. Not even a whisper. But Kilgharrah had promised him Arthur would come again. So where was he?
Suddenly a sharp, jarring sound interrupted his line of thought. He popped his earphones out, and tried to locate the familiar sound. He muttered under his breath, his eyes turning gold. Merlin's sight went down a street, left, right and left again, before coming to a completely normal London suburb, except for one thing— a peculiar blue 1960's police box.
"Doctor," breathed Merlin, and started running down the streets.