A/N: Thank you Hodophile-Sandhiller, 29Pieces, GuestM, Buckhunter, pallysAramisRios, SnidgetHex, PadrePedro, and Guest for reviewing! I wouldn't say you were wrong about Thor! I wasn't consciously channeling it but I definitely see the vibes there. XD

Chapter 3

Lancelot didn't know how he could feel so exhausted when he wasn't even alive. It gave new meaning to "dead tired." Even when he was given a break from the physical training, there was no respite, as the mental drills were just as rigorous.

He sat on the floor in one of the single-room buildings, legs crossed. The old man with white hair, Hayao, sat across from him, presence as calm and stoic as always. An unlit candle sat between them.

"Reach out with your mind. Feel the energy in the air and quicken it to flame."

"I don't have magic," Lancelot protested.

"Magic is all around you. Nature sings with it. It is the breath of all life. You need only reach out and thrum the chords to your will."

Hayao shifted his gaze to the candle and held out two fingers. With a few deft flicks, the wick sparked into a flame. Hayao then moved his hand up, drawing the fire away from the candle and twirling it into a spiral through the air before returning it to the wick and snuffing it out.

Lancelot inhaled sharply and concentrated, but several long moments passed without anything happening. "I don't understand why I need magic when Merlin is the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth."

"Emrys is still in the shadows," Hayao replied. "He will need help to finally embrace his full potential. You will be that for him."

Lancelot sighed. He wanted to help Merlin however he could. So he focused on the candle and tried again.

Lancelot felt a strange mix of emotions as he laid eyes on the city of Camelot—joy, nostalgia…anxiety. He had once been a noble knight of that great city, and now he was returning but as something else. As someone else. He had won over Arthur and his friends, but he couldn't be sure what kind of reception he would receive from everyone else.

The train of knights rode into the courtyard, and Lancelot caught sight of Guinevere rushing down the steps toward Arthur. Unlike the others, she had noticeably changed. No longer dressed in the humble cloth of a servant, she now wore an opulent gown befitting her station as queen. She had always been radiant in Lancelot's eyes, but now she was regal.

Arthur dismounted and Gwen threw her arms around him, closing her eyes in sheer relief that he had returned to her. She then drew back and searched the immediate line of faces in the lead until she found her brother, and she reached out to take his hand next.

"Someone else has returned with us," Arthur said, turning to gesture to Lancelot.

Gwen's expression pinched in confusion, then smoothed in shock. "Lancelot?" she gasped.

He strode forward and bowed deeply. "My lady."

Gwen stared at him in utter stupor. "How is this possible?"

"It's a long story," Arthur answered. "One that should be told to the entire council. After the men have had a chance to rest. I'll convene them in a few hours."

Merlin came up beside Lancelot. "Come on, you can stay with me and Gaius."

Lancelot bowed once more to his king and queen before following Merlin past several more flabbergasted faces and into the castle.

"Gaius?" Merlin called as he opened the door to the physician's chambers.

"Merlin! Welcome back. I take it Arthur was victorious," Gaius said, coming forward to meet his ward. He drew to a stop as his gaze flitted past Merlin's shoulder to Lancelot, and his mouth moved soundlessly in response.

Merlin grinned like an idiot. "He was, thanks to Lancelot miraculously returning from the dead and single-handedly defeating the enemy army. With magic, no less."

Gaius's brows shot up to his hairline.

"Merlin," Lancelot lightly chided. "You might try one shocking revelation at a time."

Gaius stretched out his hand and took Lancelot's in a firm grip. "It is good to see you, my boy."

"You too, Gaius."

Gaius's forehead creased. "Now what is this about magic? Does Arthur know?"

"He does," Lancelot confirmed. "I was rather overt in my arrival."

"You should have seen it, Gaius. He came down in a beam of blazing light."

Gaius arched a brow at Lancelot. "Well, you must tell me all about it."

"If it's all right with you, I would prefer to wait for when I'm called before Arthur's council, so I only have to tell it once."

Gaius nodded in understanding. "Of course. I'm sure there are some wounded that I should check on," he added, tossing a querying look at Merlin, who nodded. Gaius then smiled again and patted Lancelot on the arm. "Welcome back."

Lancelot returned the smile.

"You can take my room," Merlin said, heading toward the small room in the back.

"That's not necessary," Lancelot replied, trailing behind him as Merlin cleared off a bunch of books from the bed. "I don't require much sleep anymore."

Merlin quirked a confused look at him.

"I'm…not entirely mortal anymore," Lancelot confessed. "I'll likely still need food and rest at times, but not regularly. So you can keep your bed."

Merlin's brow scrunched up further. "You didn't mention that part to Arthur."

"Arthur had a lot to take in at the time, and it doesn't have any bearing on my mission."

Merlin glanced back at the bed. "Well, okay. But any time you do need some sleep, it's yours."

Lancelot smiled fondly. "Thank you, Merlin."

Gaius poked his head in. "I hate to interrupt your reunion, but, Merlin, I could use your help with the supplies."

"I'll be right there." He cast a hesitant look at Lancelot. "Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine. Go on, I'll see you later."

Merlin gave a reluctant nod and went to help Gaius as the court physician made his rounds through the wounded knights returned from battle.

Lancelot took a seat on the bed and roved his gaze around the room, taking in every detail as though it was brand new. Which it was, in a way; he couldn't recall much on his own, and he was sure Merlin had added or removed some things over the years. He was still a slob, Lancelot noted with a private smile at the clothes on the floor. And careless, he observed with an exasperated head shake at the magic books peeking out from underneath said clothes. Lancelot reached down to flip the sleeves over the exposed spines, just in case someone came by looking for him while Merlin and Gaius were out.

He turned his gaze to the walls where some sketches were tacked up above a small writing desk. Lancelot wondered whether they were Merlin's or someone else's. It was nice, to see aspects of his friend through the possessions he displayed. Lancelot hadn't possessed anything personal since he died, and he imagined everything he had once owned, albeit little, was long gone.

Not that earthly mementos were of any importance anymore, not in the face of his mission here.

Merlin and Gaius returned a couple of hours later, and not long after that, they were all summoned to the great hall where Arthur, the knights, and his court had assembled. Lancelot was called forward to share his tale yet again. He left out the more personal details he had already disclosed to his friends and stuck to the facts of the situation and his purpose.

Arthur nodded to him when he had finished. "We are glad of your return, Sir Lancelot. Whatever lies ahead for Camelot, I am grateful for your service."

And with that simple declaration, Arthur had let everyone present know that he had accepted Lancelot despite his magic.

There was a celebratory feast after that, commemorating not only their victory in battle but also Lancelot's return.

"To Sir Lancelot!" Arthur toasted. "Who defeated the enemy almost single-handedly."

"The victory belongs to you, Sire," Lancelot deferred. "I am but your sword."

Arthur inclined his head at that and drank. Lancelot only sipped sparingly at his goblet of wine. He didn't think he could get drunk with his enhanced abilities, but he didn't want to chance it. The feast was awkward enough. Lancelot kept getting intense looks that made him uncomfortable. He knew he shouldn't let it bother him, but they only served to remind him that he didn't really belong here anymore.

As soon as it was appropriate for people to leave the table, Lancelot stood and retreated out into the corridor, but a voice stopped him.

"Lancelot!"

He turned to find Guinevere hurrying after him.

"We haven't had a chance to speak since your return. It's so wonderful to see you. You have been dearly missed."

Lancelot bowed his head politely. "I missed everyone as well."

Her smile wavered then and she took a stilted breath, pressing one hand over her stomach. "When you didn't come back from the Isle of the Blessed…I knew it was my fault."

Lancelot frowned. "How could it have been your fault?"

Her expression twisted with grief. "I extracted a promise from you to protect Arthur. I just…I never wanted to lose you instead."

Oh, right. Lancelot had forgotten about that. It wasn't Arthur he had been protecting with that last act, anyway, but Merlin.

"I only did what needed to be done," he assured her. "And you need not blame yourself, Guinevere. That was my path, and mine alone."

She gave him a rueful half smile. "Well, I'm glad it has led you back to us."

He returned the smile. "As am I."

Unfortunately, readjusting to being back in Camelot was proving more difficult than Lancelot could have anticipated. It was not only strange to be there, like having traveled backward in time, but he found himself struggling with what to do with himself. His entire existence for the past hundred years had been constant training for a battle that now he had to wait for. The interim idleness was difficult for him.

His friends invited him out to the training field, goading him to "teach them a thing or two" as Arthur had put it earlier. Lancelot drew his sword and walked out to face Elyan, who got into a ready stance eagerly. Lancelot waited for him to make the first move and then threw his blade up in a successful block. But then decades of honed reflexes took over and Lancelot followed through with a strike that Elyan barely parried, the force of which knocked him back a step. In the next split second, Lancelot had locked his sword against Elyan's and with a deft twist, sent it flying from the knight's grip. He then finished with a palm thrust to the chest that propelled Elyan several feet through the air before he landed on his back with a hard thud.

Stunned silence radiated across the field, broken when Elyan suddenly gasped in a lungful of air. The other knights ran toward him. Lancelot started to take a step, then stopped himself. How could he have been so foolish? He should have known better.

"Elyan!" Leon exclaimed. "Are you all right?"

They helped the winded knight sit up.

"Yeah," he said breathlessly. "I'm okay." He looked down at the armor plate he happened to have been wearing and ran his fingers down it. "I think you dented it," he said, sounding half in awe and half frightened.

"I'm sorry," Lancelot said. "I didn't mean to…"

"Guess, uh, we shouldn't have tried to spar with someone who has godlike powers now," Gwaine commented.

Lancelot's throat constricted. "I'm sorry," he repeated, then turned and fled, mentally flagellating himself for his recklessness. He could have seriously injured someone.

He should have known he couldn't just slip back into his old life as though nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Including him.

He veered away from going back into the castle and instead slipped out into the nearby woodland, searching for a secluded place where he could just sit, away from scrutinizing gazes. He found a bubbling brook and sat down on its bank, crossing his legs and closing his eyes, focusing his senses on the running water. He let his breathing fall into a rhythmic pattern that followed the ebb and flow of the stream until he had reached a state of complete calm. Then he opened his eyes and stretched out his hand, bending his fingers and drawing forth a cord of water.

He twirled it back and forth through the air, idly playing with shapes and spirals that caught rays of sunshine and sent prisms scattering all around.

He knew when Merlin found him, even without looking. He felt the thrum on the air as Merlin whispered some spell, and in the next moment, a horse made of dust went galloping through the hoops of Lancelot's water rings. Lancelot sent the water back to the stream and turned toward his friend.

Merlin quirked a goofy smile at him as he came over and sat next to him, though his first words were more serious. "I heard about what happened on the training field."

Lancelot dropped his gaze to his hands. "Is Elyan really all right?"

"He's fine, just a bruise."

"I should have known better."

"It's not like you have any experience coming back as a half immortal being," Merlin pointed out. "It was an easy mistake to make. No one's mad at you."

Lancelot sighed. "This wasn't part of my training."

"What?"

"This." He gestured between himself and Merlin. "Confronting people and relationships who remember me as someone that I no longer am."

"You're still you, just with a few new abilities," Merlin argued. "And call me selfish, but you having magic now…I've never had a friend who was like me." He leaned closer earnestly. "Your eyes don't glow when you cast spells."

"That's because I don't cast spells, not like you do. I learned how to wield the elements, that's all, connect with the magic already running through them. Your magic is a part of you."

Merlin still looked fascinated. "Can you show me?"

Lancelot angled himself back toward the stream and held out his hand. Merlin watched in rapt attention as Lancelot manipulated the band of water again. Then the warlock held his hand out toward the water and uttered some words. His eyes flared amber and the water responded in the same way, albeit by different methods.

Merlin shook his head to himself. "I can't imagine another way of doing it."

"Good thing you don't have to," Lancelot replied. He straightened at attention as he sensed a disturbance in the woods. "Someone's coming."

Merlin frowned as they got to their feet, looking around in confusion.

A few moments later, a haggard looking man came stumbling through the trees. He snapped his frazzled gaze toward them and then lurched across the stream.

"Help me!" he begged before abruptly collapsing at their feet.

Merlin shot a bewildered look at Lancelot and dropped down to check the man over. "He's alive."

"We should get him back to the castle."

And find out what had put that sheer look of terror in his eyes.

"It was a great wall of darkness," the stranger stammered, wrapped in a blanket with a mug of hot soup in the common room. "At first we thought it was just a storm. But the darkness reached all the way to the ground. And it moved slowly, like fog, only it wasn't. It devoured our entire village, blocked out the sun. We fled, but it kept growing. It swallowed the next village over." He shuddered and curled in on himself further.

Merlin flicked a concerned look around at everyone gathered. This did not sound good.

Arthur turned to Lancelot. "Do you know what it is?"

Lancelot regretfully shook his head.

"Morgana used some kind of shadow magic during the battle," Leon put in. "Perhaps this is another attack from her."

"And how are we supposed to fight against something like that?" Sir Baern said.

Another knight, Sir Bors, added, "What good is Lancelot if he doesn't even know what we're up against?"

"That's enough," Arthur snapped, but he cast another questioning look Lancelot's way.

"I'll do what I can, Sire," Lancelot said, then bowed and excused himself.

Merlin waited a beat for the rest of the knights to start discussing the problem before he hurried after Lancelot. "Can you do anything?" he asked, falling into step beside him.

"No. Magic of this nature would be your domain."

"It's not like I know what we're up against either," he hissed. "But I do know who we can ask."

Lancelot's mouth curved upward in understanding and he nodded.

The two of them slipped away from the castle and out to the field where Merlin summoned Kilgharrah. A few moments later, the dragon came in for a landing, folding his wings behind him. He canted his head at Lancelot curiously.

"Sir Lancelot," he greeted, then hummed to himself. "Your new destiny becomes you."

"We've received a report there's a darkness devouring the land," Merlin said without preamble.

"Mm, yes, I have seen it," Kilgharrah replied. "Though I could not believe my eyes. The Darkness is an ancient entity from the dawn of time, locked away when the foundations of the world were formed."

"Does this have anything to do with Morgana?" Merlin asked. "She was using magic that sounds similar."

"The witch must have broken the seal to the Darkness's prison in order to access its power. But it would have come at great cost to her—she would have had to give up part of her soul in exchange."

"Broken seal," Lancelot repeated thoughtfully. "That must have been the first seal I was told about that initiated my return."

"And with the seal broken, the Darkness is now leaking out into the world," Kilgharrah confirmed. "If not stopped, it will bring about the end of light and life everywhere."

"Then how do we stop it?" Merlin asked urgently.

"The Darkness cannot be destroyed," Kilgharrah replied. "It must be locked away again. But that is a magic from before the time of dragons." He shifted, spreading his wings in preparation to depart. "Take care, young warlock, it will not return to its prison so easily."

"Of course not," he muttered. He didn't know why he was disappointed that the Great Dragon couldn't be more helpful; Kilgharrah rarely was.

He and Lancelot headed back to the castle. They needed to figure out a plan. But as they reached the lower town, they were met with people rushing about in a panic, and the guards up on the citadel wall were gathering in droves to look south. Merlin and Lancelot hurried up to one of the turrets to see for themselves.

In the distance was exactly as the villager had described: a massive wall of pitch blackness extending from the ground as high into the air as the eye could see. And it was coming toward Camelot.

"I don't know if I can stop that," Merlin murmured.

Lancelot turned to face him. "You can. You're Emrys. And I will go with you."

Merlin shook his head, still doubtful. "You heard Kilgharrah, this thing is older than dragons, older than the Old Religion. You'd probably have a better chance at defeating it."

"Your magic is older than the Old Religion," Lancelot countered. "It comes from the foundations of the world as much as this thing does. And I will help you in whatever way I can, Merlin. I wasn't entirely truthful when I told Arthur I had been sent back to be his sword and shield."

Merlin frowned at his friend.

Lancelot met his gaze levelly. "I am Arthur's sword, but I am your shield. And together we will face this."

Merlin blinked, taken aback. Lancelot had been sent to protect him? Why? That made no sense.

But as he turned his gaze back out toward the monolithic darkness, he supposed he was going to need all the help he could get.