Something rumbles like thunder in the distance, waking me in with heart-jerking abruptness. Everything is dark; no, not everything… a small patch of light falls through the blackness, beckoning. I stand up stiffly. My armor clinks, too loudly in this small space, and I wince. I look around to see if I've disturbed anyone, but I am alone.
Alone. I have so rarely been alone before. There were always servants or knights or advisors, and the constant company of my father's expectations. And him. He never left me alone.
But here I am now, and he is not. I close my eyes, trying to enjoy the unfamiliar peace brought on by solitude. Part of me expects him to break it somehow, and I find that I cannot relax. I wish Gwen were here; she would be able to calm me. But instinctively, I know that she is gone. Just like everybody else.
The rumbling continues, and I pull myself out of my thoughts and look to the light. It is a small hole in the ceiling, and I crawl toward it blindly. My body is not as stiff as I thought it would be. It just feels heavy- although that could also be my armor. There is no sword at my hip, which makes me feel unbalanced, but I suppose I will find one later. Something tells me I'll need it.
I stumble over fallen rock and ancient ruins until finally I pull myself out of the tomb into the light. The sun's glare is so bright that I feel I'll go blind; I shield my eyes, pausing half in and half out of the ruins as I wait for my eyes to adjust. How long has it been? Will I recognize anything when I open my eyes?
"Arthur?"
Blinking, I lower my hand and squint until I can make out a shape… a person, with dark hair and blurred features. I press my eyes shut, ducking my head. "I can't see" is all I can think to say. I don't want to see. It's been too long; the Camelot I knew is gone, and I'm not yet ready to see what it has become.
"Sit down," the voice says. Hands reach out and take my arms, pulling me up onto the grass. Uncharacteristically, I obey. "How do you feel?"
Once again I can hear the rumbling, like thousands of horses charging across a plain. "What's that noise?"
"You get used to that," he answers. "Generators. They power the city."
"Camelot?" I ask.
After a moment, he says, "No. And yes. It isn't called Camelot anymore."
I shake my head. My Camelot is gone, and with it everything I know. This land is as alien to me as the lands of the dead had been, and for a moment I cannot help but succumb to despair. What difference can I make to this world?
"Arthur," he says again. His hand grips my shoulder, calming and confident. "It's been a long time. Things have changed. Some things are the same. We still need our king."
"A long time," I repeat bleakly. "How long has it been?"
He doesn't answer immediately. Hesitating, wondering how much I can handle. Or wondering how to say it. Or perhaps it's been so long that he's forgotten. "How long have you been waiting, Merlin?"
I look up finally, my eyes focusing on the one thing that hasn't changed. He smiles crookedly and shrugs. "Thought you'd forgotten me," he says after a moment.
"You?" I laugh wryly. "Who could forget the worst servant in Albion?"
Undaunted by my words, Merlin climbs to his feet and reaches down to help me to mine. "You still owe me time off," he points out as I take his hand.
"You've had all this time," I say, grunting as he pulls me up. "And I'll bet you wasted it all in a tavern."
"Not all of it." I want to laugh, but there's a heaviness in his voice that tells me he's not joking. He waits until he sees that I am steady before releasing me, his hands hovering between us as if he doesn't trust my ability to stand. I'm not sure I do either but I put on a show of looking around, studying the new landscape as casually as possible. "You'll get used to it," Merlin promises, sensing my rising panic. "I'll help you."
For the first time, I find myself smiling genuinely. "You'll help me. All this time, Merlin… you still haven't changed."
"You told me not to."
"And when have you ever listened to me?"
He grins. "Just this once. It's the first time you've been right about something."
I hide another smile, reaching out my hand to ruffle his hair and forcing his head down into a pseudo-bow. "You should show more respect to your king."
"I suppose I should," he allows, ducking free of my grasp. He stands tall for a moment, taller than I remember. He carries himself with that same old confidence which used to confuse me. I suppose now that it must come from his magic; from all those times he's gone into battle at my side, unarmed except for his sorcery. But the confidence I see in his eyes now has nothing to do with magic; it is in me, in my ability to lead whatever my people have become. Even now, after all these years, his faith in me is as strong as ever.
"It's good to see you, Merlin," I say, sobering.
He answers me with a smile. And just like that, I am ready for whatever challenge I've been called back to face. No doubt Merlin has grown stronger in our time apart; perhaps now he has become, as Gaius foretold, the greatest sorcerer who ever lived. The greatest sorcerer and the once and future king. I smile back at my old friend, my most loyal and trusted ally, and raise my chin defiantly. "Take me to the battlefield, Merlin. And find me a sword."