Back! Man, I'm sorry it took more than a week to update this. Sigh. :( but I'm back, with more Torch Merlin! Blame Maui. It was awesome. Aaah, spring break… :) unfortunately, due to VERY ANNOYING SCHOOL, I have barely any time to update. This is, sorry, a little more than a preview for the next chapter. It pains me to admit… but I'm falling way behind in some of my fanfic writing. sorry again. But here's more ADL anyways!

"Sire, are you sure we want to go through the valley of the Fallen Kings?" Leon asked with a raised eyebrow, sitting on a log opposite Arthur. There was no answer. As usual, the King was withdrawn and unresponsive, often lapsing into silence for long periods of time in which none but Gwen could coax an answer out of him, and even she only got one or two syllable grunts. It was clear how heavily Merlin's death weighed on his mind. Nothing could console him.

Which was why almost everyone seated around the campfire jumped when Arthur let out a yelp and started backwards, away from the fire. For a second, he could have sworn he'd seen a flash of… familiar cerulean eyes.

"What is it, Arthur?" Gwen asked worriedly. Her husband stared at the fire a moment longer, then shook his head sharply and glanced away, not letting anybody see the glimmer of deep regret and nostalgia in his equally blue eyes. Everyone's eyes flicked around to each other's faces, before settling back on their king.

"I thought I saw… nevermind." The blonde buried his head between his knees from where he crouched on the ground, waving them away with a flick of his hand. They shrugged and swiveled back to the fire.

Gwaine sighed. "Well, he's not the only one imagining things." He watched the flames with a dark, brooding look. Cautiously, Elyan nodded assent, as did Percival and a reluctant Gaius. This only served to give their leader a little misguided hope.

"Then maybe we're not… that is, imagining things," Arthur said excitedly. "What if he really is there? He's this so-called super-powerful warlock thingy, after all." This was probably more than he'd said total in the last forty-eight hours, when they'd said goodbye to Kilgarrah and made their way into the forest, leaving the flames where Merlin lay far behind.

Gaius let out a gasp. "Sire, that's it! I told him not to use such a spell, it would be extremely dangerous… but if he'd succeeded… then maybe…"

"Maybe what?" Arthur asked urgently, moving closer to the physician. "You know what spell he did? But… when would he have had a chance to do this? Maybe while we were fleeing… or while the dragon was carrying him…"

Percival shook his head. "No. In the throne room. Right after Morgana stabbed him, he muttered something before falling. Didn't you notice?" Leon raised his hand slightly with a very small smile.

"I thought I was seeing things," the knight admitted. "But what spell was it, Gaius?"

The old physician smiled. "Ah, it's ancient and requires a lot of power… but with Merlin, I suspect he'd have had a fighting chance, even if he was dying. It allows the user's essence – their spirit essentially – to escape into the element of their choice. Some choose water – not all of the nymphs you can see in magic-concentrated places were born there, you know. Some choose earth, escaping into the rocks. That's how the myth of the Singing Hills was created, real spirits singing to their lost ones. Some choose air, and become the whispering wind that drifts through places where lost souls need it most. And some… choose fire. They become one with the flames, can flit from fire to fire, unseen unless they want to be."

"So you think… Merlin chose fire?" Gwen whispered, eyes alight with hope. Gaius nodded, and moved closer to the campfire.

"Merlin? If you can hear us… will you show yourself?" he whispered, peering into the fire, searching for his beloved ward. A soft, almost musical laugh flitted from the flames, twisting through the smoke and reaching their ears. Everyone started a little bit. "Merlin!" Gaius exclaimed. "Is that you?"

"What do you think…?" came the reply, barely even a whisper. In the red and orange of the flames, familiar deep blue eyes flashed for a moment, and that small goofy grin they'd all missed. "Seems you all missed me… even the prat…"

Arthur growled slightly, but his smile was almost splitting his face in half. "Come on, idiot. Show your face and stay there for a minute."

There was a small, sad sigh, and the blue eyes that could be glimpsed wavered a moment. "Sorry… no… I'm using too much energy just talking to you… you have to give me a while before I'm back to full strength… you'd never know it, prat… but dying does take a lot out of you…"

That seemed to sober everyone up fast. "Hey, mate…" Gwaine said quietly. "You'll come back, won't you?" The others fell silent, and the flames sputtered for a moment. Another sigh twirled its way out of the smoke, and the blue eyes closed then disappeared. Please, please, please come back... was their only thought.

"Of course… I will…" the answer laughed. "But it might take a few months… maybe a year… until I have enough strength and enough magic… to separate myself from the fire… I'll still help you in taking back Camelot, don't worry… just try to light the palace on… fire…" Then he was gone. Gwaine started frantically calling his best friend's name, almost leaping into the campfire to see. Gwen held him back and choked back her own sorrowful cry. Arthur was left staring into the flames…

… with a goofy grin on his face.

That was possibly the SMALLEST chapter I have ever written. Shoot me now, I know. This is more of a teaser/filler than anything else… the next chapter will be at LEAST 3,000 words, don't worry. Sigh. School work is killing me… I'll do my best to update everything over the weekend.

~DeaththeKidKat