Memories
The first rays of sunshine of a new day fell on Merlin's pale face, while he stood there in a small clearing in the forest. A peaceful clearing, not far from the citadel where he always went to pick herbs for Gaius. The only sound was the singing of birds.
He blinked at the welcoming light, while the chill inside his body was still threatening to overwhelm him. While tear streaks were still visible on his face. The dragon was gone. Camelot safe once more, but at a terrible price for Merlin. He had lost his father.
"You did it." The words had been said to Arthur, but were directed at himself of course. He had done it, made Kilgharrah bow to him, obey him and leave Camelot alone. His father would have been very proud of him. He knew. He had felt it inside, like the man had been standing next to him.
Staring at the small dragon carved out of a piece of wood in his hand, memories of the last days came floating back to him. His father had made this for him. And the memory made him smile and feel miserable at the same time.
He knew what he had to do. This place, right here in the forest, was the place where he wanted to remember Balinor. A place to come to and think, ask for guidance even.
Merlin placed the dragon carefully on a large bolder. The spell left his mouth in a whisper, his eyes flashed golden and the carved dragon turned into stone, like a small statue attached to the bolder, its little wings opened proudly.
He looked at it, a smile suddenly appearing on his face. The chill inside was washed away. Not by the sun, but by the knowledge that his father would be remembered, and would always be with him.
