The sun shines on the white walls of the castle, brighter even than the flashing of swords and chainmail. I'm not sure why that comparison comes to mind; it's been years since I've seen a sword used for anything other than ceremonies and practice. The day is warm and pleasant, and I turn my thoughts away from weapons and focus on enjoying my ride. Arthur rides beside me, his face turned toward the castle. He smiles, and I can't help but smile as well. It's a beautiful day.

"I don't suppose you could do anything to announce our return," Arthur says suddenly. He grins sidelong at me before returning his gaze to what we can see of Camelot through the trees.

"What do you mean?"

"You know. Fireworks or something. Elyan promised to greet us when we return, after all. We might as well give him something to see."

I shrug. "Don't you think that's a misuse of my powers?" I ask with mock gravity.

"You're no fun, Merlin."

We ride the rest of the way to the castle in companionable silence. The guards greet us as we pass into the courtyard, and suddenly the air is filled with shouts as two tiny forms- a boy and a girl- dash down the steps and up to our horses.

"Not too close!" Arthur scolds. The children retreat, but the instant he dismounts they cling to his cloak and legs. At the top of the stairs, Gwen waves and begins her descent toward us.

"Father, look at my new dress!" cries the little girl, twirling her blue skirt excitedly. "Mother made it for me!"

"Did she?" Arthur asks over her head as Guinevere steps up behind her and rests her hands on the child's shoulders.

"I know, we have royal seamstresses," Gwen sighs, with the tone of someone who has argued the same point several times. "But I enjoy the work."

"Whatever makes you happy," Arthur gives in, leaning over his daughter's head to kiss his queen.

I cough, handing the reins of my horse off to the stable hand who meets us. Gwen leans back and grins at me. "Hello, Merlin. Did you have a nice ride?"

"Very nice, thank you." I answer. "Even with Arthur along."

The little boy scoots under Arthur's arm and holds his hands out to me. "Look, Uncle! Gaius gave me this coin for helping him pick herbs this morning!"

"You see," Arthur interjects, wrapping his arm around Gwen as he turns to make a face at me. "You've got my son doing your job now!"

"It's wonderful, Elyan," I say, ignoring Arthur's comment. I pick it out of his tiny palm and hold it up, making a show of examining it. "This is very valuable," I tell him seriously. "It was made by the Druids. See the symbols in the center?"

"Is it magic?" Elyan asks. His dark eyes are so full of hope that I can't help but laugh, but that does nothing to discourage him. "Do you think it will give me magic like you?"

"Maybe," I say mysteriously, handing the coin back to him.

"I want magic too!" cries his sister. The blue eyes she inherited from her father turn to me excitedly. "Mother says you can teach me when I'm old enough, Uncle. I think I'm ready now!"

"Hang on now, Freya," Arthur interrupts. "You don't want Merlin to teach you. He isn't a very good teacher."

"Better than you," I retort.

Gwen starts to say something, but the scene blurs suddenly and her voice fades away. The colors drain out of my vision and an instant later I am awake, gasping. Everything is dark, and it takes me a moment to recognize where I am. Trees surround me on three sides, and in front of me stretches the Lake of Avalon. I lie still, feeling as if I'm returning from a different life rather than a dream. There are tears on my face.

"Emrys."

I look up. Kilgharrah is there, staring down at me with a subdued air. He dips his head when I meet his eyes, and I stand up slowly. The visions of the dream are fading, replaced by the slow, cold realization of what my reality entails. Arthur is dead. I failed him, and in the morning I will have to go back to Camelot to tell Gwen.

Kilgharrah is still watching me. I rub my eyes dry and take a shaky breath, but when I can think of nothing to say I simply shrug at him. "The time for mourning will pass," the dragon promises gently.

I shake my head. "I had a dream," I tell him quietly. "About Arthur and Gwen, and their children. Magic was practiced freely and Camelot was at peace."

Kilgharrah nods slowly, his eyes full of sorrow. "That is one future that could have been, had some chosen another path."

His words cut me more deeply than any wound I've ever suffered. "Another path?" I repeat emptily. "You mean, if I had fulfilled my destiny? If I had saved him?"

"No, Merlin," Kilgharrah answers. His voice is heavy with the weight of my loss. "You could have done nothing differently. The path was chosen by others- the witch and the Druid boy. There was nothing you could do to alter their destinies."

"But I could have," I counter. "I had the chance to. And if I had, what I dreamed… that would have been Camelot's future?"

"It is but one path," Kilgharrah rumbles.

I shake my head, eyes burning as the realization of everything Camelot has lost dawns on me. I sink to the ground and bury my face in my hands, shaking.

I am still sitting there long after Kilgharrah has left me, when the sun rises over the trees with its reflection flashing off the surface of Avalon.