"Kil... Kil..." Arthur tore his gaze from the hulking creature in the sky to find Merlin's eyes open, dull but searching. To Arthur it sounded like a plea: Kill. He didn't know if Merlin was lucid enough to register the threat of the dragon, or if he was begging Arthur to let him sleep (I'm so tired, Arthur...) but either way Arthur didn't reach for his sword. He held his friend tighter and glared at Kilgharrah as he descended on the shore.
"So we meet again, Arthur Pendragon." The creature spoke and its voice held a wisdom Arthur couldn't even fathom but at that moment the dragon sounded angry.
"I do not want to fight you," Arthur said, trying to keep his voice level.
"Kil... Kilgharrah..." Merlin sounded delirious, his head snapping from one side to the other in agitation. "Nun... drakon, nun de ge..."
"No," the dragon tilted its head, blinking owlishly at the king. The golden eyes were massive, fiery... and sad.
"Ithi! Non didlkai, ithi, Kil..." Arthur looked down at Merlin, who had opened his eyes again and was looking at the dragon with a panicked expression on his face. Arthur saw that the familiar blue fizzled with same gold as the dragon, weak and sporadic, and realized sickeningly that Merlin was trying to cast a spell.
"Not this time, young warlock," Kilgharrah settled down onto the sand like a cat, his neck dipping until the great head was within inches of Arthur's. The king froze, feeling the warmth of the dragon's breath wash over him and waiting for a burst of flames. "You will be the greatest king that Albion will ever know, Pendragon. The boy has given his life to make sure of it." There was a heady pause and Arthur watched the nostrils flare, imagining a jet of gold and red. "But you are not ready yet."
"No, please, I don't want... ithi, nun de ge... Kilgharrah, please..." Merlin was almost panting now and Arthur had to tighten his grip for fear that his friend would reopen the wound on his chest.
"It will be my pleasure." The great dragon pulled away. "Arthur, you will need to stand back."
"No." His hands instinctively closed tighter on Merlin's arms and he felt the man stiffen, but he didn't let go.
"You will create the future you were destined to, Arthur Pendragon, but you cannot succeed without Merlin. It is his destiny to protect you. And it is my destiny to save him." There was a pause, and the expression softened. "Please, young king. There is not much time."
Letting go of Merlin was the most difficult thing Arthur could ever remember having to do. The sorcerer was sobbing, choking out the same fragments of a language Arthur didn't understand: Drakon, nun de ge ithi. Non didlkai ithi. Kilgharrah, ithi.
"I wanted this, Kilgharrah, please..." Merlin's voice was wavering, his skin deadly pale now that Arthur could see him at a distance.
"It is my time, young warlock. And it is my honor."
The great head lowered and the spray of light that Arthur had been expecting came- not in a jet, but in a billowing wave which overtook the slight form half in and half out of the lake. The golden light flooded over Merlin, past him, and the whole of the surface of the lake was set aflame, but the fire looked unspeakably gentle. It reminded Arthur of Merlin's blood in the water, twisting towards the sky in glowing fibers and dancing in thousands of independent streams. The light grew so intense that it seemed to blot out the sun and yet it didn't burn Arthur's eyes. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
The light slowly receded, seeming to be drawn to a single point on the beach. As more and more of it disappeared Arthur realized it was pouring into the body of his friend. Merlin was faceless, featureless, a body made of light and of magic. It burned brightest where the sword wound had been, blazing for a moment longer before it began to disappear.
The dragon looked at Arthur, silent, and Arthur realized that there were tears coursing down his own face. There was an unutterable sadness in the air, like the universe itself was grieving over what he now understood to be the death of a dragon. Kilgharrah's scales were rippling, lifting first like grass on a windy plain and then spiraling away, breaking into thousands of tiny glittering pieces as the dragon lifted his head to the sky. The sorrow grew so intense that Arthur feared he would break and then the creature was gone, leaving Arthur alone on the beach with Merlin's still form.
He couldn't find his voice but he ran, kicking up plumes of sand as he neared his friend. There was no rise and fall in the bony chest and the crimson looked as wet as ever and it didn't work, the dragon failed, I failed and it was all too late-
And then there was a sound. An airy, breathless sound, like a faint breeze struggling to reach the mouth of a cavern.
Merlin's eyes opened.