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Magic as Fantasy.
Merlin had seen many incredible, horrifying things over the centuries since that dark mess where so many people died because he had so desperate to ensure Mordred didn't kill Arthur, only for the Dsir to bring him back from the point of death after Mordred was injured on that quest, and as the new 20th century unfolded, he had to admit he was uncertain if this new era was going to be any better than the last one.
When he had first visited London, it had been after Arthur's death and when Camelot fell and he had nowhere else to go except the lake, but Merlin had long since decided against staying in one place too long; not only would he draw unnecessary attention to himself with people over the years realising he was there and telling tales about a strange man who hung around a lake for no reason, he had not wanted to waste the time he had on this earth exploring the world as it evolved and changed.
He didn't regret that decision, especially when world travel had improved so it became closer to being instant; there was so much to see, so much to do to distract himself until Arthur returned.
London was unrecognisable to him now, but Merlin had long since become used to changes over the decades. But now it was changing slowly with each year. As he travelled on the Metropolitan train as it steamed away from Harrow, Merlin remembered the last time he had travelled along this line, before the so-called 'Great War,' there were houses everywhere whereas before there was nothing but farmland.
What a wonderful century; not only was Europe in a shambles thanks to the war with Germany, but this kind of progress was springing up everywhere; in London and other cities like it, such as Paris and New York, where Merlin had recently visited, seeing the electric lights, the trams, the cars and the trains which were running the Underground railways like the London Underground or the Paris Metro, it was just another sign of a world which was rapidly giving way to science and doing away with magic.
Merlin let out a low breath. He could still feel his connection with the Old Religion, of course; it wasn't the sort of thing which could die out, but there hadn't been any true sorcerer for centuries. Ironically Arthur's death had done more good for magical users and beings than Merlin had expected, he had half felt with Arthur dead and Mordred and Morgana behind it although Merlin had been responsible for failing to get Camelot's king to the Sidhe in time, but thanks to Morgana getting to them and enchanting their horses to flee, he'd failed.
Arthur's death and the virtual end of the Pendragon dynasty had spelt the end of Camelot which wasn't helped by the increasing rise of the Saxons and the death of Arthur, the last bastion of Uther and his never-ending vendetta against magic and because of that, the ban on magic had become harder to enforce and with Morgana dead, many of the people who'd gone along with her out of fear of his old friend's madness and power felt free to reveal themselves. It was ironic, but a lot of the future Merlin had wanted and the twisted vision of it Morgana and those like her wanted had come to pass.
Granted, it was not the future Merlin had wanted or expected. And there was nothing Camelot had been able to do about it, a lot of their power had died the moment Arthur decided to march onto Cammlann and after he died, well the Saxons and the sorcerers who'd been in hiding all over the Five Kingdoms no longer felt they had anything to be frightened of.
But then it all fell apart.
Merlin closed his eyes. He always remembered this, every single day, and since he was immortal and he had seen so many events and atrocities over the centuries committed by monarchs even Uther would be disgusted with while envying and approving of the acts of others, and it never failed to depress the warlock.
Ever since Kilgharrah died, and Aithusa had disappeared centuries ago, Merlin had seen that as the final end of magic as it just waned over the years passed; the Great Purge was one of the most devastating events in magical history, but there had been other purges, but none as devastating. Uther was no fool. He had plotted and planned when he lost Ygraine, and then he had lashed out. He had gotten a number of sorcerers, among them Dragonlords before he had turned on them, to work against other sorcerers and High Priests and Priestesses of the Old Religion and he had cut the heart out of magic itself, and he had made sure Nimueh had watched every moment of it.
The loss of the Isle of the Blessed was one of the biggest blows against magic, and while there were sorcerers still around, the world merely moved on and Merlin had been forced to see it happen, and over the years it was very rare to encounter anyone who possessed magic. Merlin had hoped some sorcerers would go underground when they discovered their way of life was going out, but they had realised too late Uther and Arthur and Morgana had committed more damage to magic than they'd originally thought, and they just faded out of existence.
Over the years, the stories of Arthur and of magic were relegated to fantasy. There was little proof the Five Kingdoms existed as the lands were soon absorbed by the Saxons, and the Saxons hadn't given a damn about the official records which existed in the archives of the various kingdoms. When they won, the Saxons spent a lot of time rewriting history, changing the past to wipe out the mentions of Camelot, Nemeth, and all the other kingdoms; to this day, Merlin did not know why even though he had fought to the end. He did not know if the Saxons cared about Morgana's wishes to destroy Camelot, but he doubted they cared about what the witch wanted, but he just felt they had destroyed every archive for the sake of it and they were just forgotten over the decades.
While he might not have liked the Five Kingdoms that much, he hadn't wanted them wiped out. Changed so they didn't kill sorcerers, yes, not destroyed needlessly by a race of warriors for no reason other than more resources and food.
Merlin had done his best to stop the Saxons, but in the end he had failed; he had just been one man, and even despite his power he could not be in a dozen places at once. He had tried to bring in other sorcerers to help him stop it, but they had had enough of the kingdoms and they had hoped the Saxon reign would give them a chance to flourish. It worked in some ways, but the Great Purge had still done a vast amount of damage sorcerers became scarcer.
They were all destroyed. It was only thanks to Sir Geoffrey's diligence some reference of Camelot's existence and history got out into the world, but the full story had been diluted and exaggerated, or the information was rewritten.
History was written by the victors, that was a tale as old as time. Merlin knew it. He had seen it many times over the years, but in this case, the Saxons had won against their worst enemy. But it was a partial victory, the legacy of Albion still existed. Kilgharrah was right, the story would never die, but he hated that magic had vanished.
That magic was no more than fantasy.
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