I sat there. I sat there as I watched the boat burn as it floated along the lake. The lifeless form of the love of my life being cremated upon it. The Great Dragon had long since left. His words replaying in my ears. Take heart young warlock, for when Albion's need is greatest Arthus shall rise again.

I pushed aside the emptiness. Arthur wouldn't want me to sit here and wallow. I had to go inform the queen of his passing. It would be about a day's walk from here back to Camelot. I gently fiddled with the ring Arthur left me with. His mother's ring. Take it. He had said, take it and everytime you look upon it, you will be reminded how much I love you. I stood, trying to fight the tears. My Emrys… My Merlin.

I reached the castle. I had long since lost the battle against my tears, and as I walked I could still feel them gently sliding down my cheeks. I ended up finding Gwen in Arthur's chambers. The room looked exactly as Arthur had left it. The red covers were neat on the bed. The desk strewn with papers and maps as if he had just stepped out for a moment. I had only looked at Gwen for half a second. Everything inside me combusted.

I collapsed onto the floor. Sitting on my knees, hands in my lap, head hung low. Practically bowing before the queen. I sobbed. The emptiness inside me spread like a wildfire. I sat there, practically laying on the floor, crying for the man I loved, the other side of my coin, missing him more than I could possibly express. I clutched the ring so tightly it would probably leave permanent indentations in my skin. I'm nothing without you, Arthur. I'm nothing without my other half. I sat there and cried, and cried and cried…

I felt gentle arms lift me up so that I wasn't trying to bury my face in my lap. I felt those arms wrap around me, bringing my head to rest gently on someone's shoulder. I knew it was Gwen, and so I wrapped my arms around her. She held me for hours as sobbed.

"Oh Merlin," she sighed gently, my sobs had dwindled, now I sat there clutching her tightly as I tried to catch my breath. "I'm so sorry Merlin." she ran her fingers through my hair.

"I know how much you two meant to each other. I knew that he loved you more than he could ever possibly love anyone else. I knew he didn't love me the way he wanted people to think he did. I knew he could never truly love me as a wife, even before we married." I couldn't help but respond,

"Why marry him then?" I managed to choke out, she smiled down at me with a fond gentle smile.

"I saw how he looked at you. I knew the only one he could ever love, was you. I wanted him to be happy. You as well of course, but I knew that if he married some princess, he'd be expected to force himself to have relations with her, spend time with her in a romantic sense. Pretend to reciprocate feelings he just couldn't feel for a woman." she explained, "I had lost my other half, I figured it would be best if he married someone who understood that he couldn't feel that way for them. Someone who wouldn't expect him to have relations with them. Someone who he wouldn't need to worry about learning of his preferences."

I nodded. She had married Arthur, to protect him, and me. Arthur had never loved her that way. He had known she would be an amazing queen, and she wouldn't judge us for our relationship. I sobbed again.

Over the next couple months Gwen lifted the ban on magic. She made me the Court Sorcerer. At first I had wanted to spend my time by the lake, close by so that when Arthur returned he wouldn't be lost, alone by a lake. But I knew he'd whack me on the head with his glove if I sat around waiting for him. So I took the job. I helped rework the laws surrounding magic. I went to fight in battles, and taught the old religion to those who were interested. I kept myself sane with the promise that Arthur would return.

But he never did.

Years passed, and I hadn't aged. Gwen was growing old and gray. She had remarried, and had three children, ensuring she had an heir. Gaius passed away three years after Arthur died. That was the moment I knew I couldn't stay. How could I possibly remain in Camelot, watch all the people around me grow old and die, while I was stuck here, never aging, living on.

I built a cottage on the shore of the Lake of Avalon, and I waited. I waited in that cabin alone, for years. Slowly the pain of missing my love steadily growing, or rather becoming more prominent. Where are you Arthur?

500 years passed since Arthur's death when I was approached by a group of individuals. I had been keeping up to date on what was going on in the world. I had seen magic become outlawed again. Magic users going into hiding once more. The worst than that, I saw as magic changed. Magic users now required sticks to cast spells. The spells had changed, they were far more limited. The group of individuals consisted of two men and two women. Godric, Helga, Rowena and Salazar. They wanted my help to found a school for wizards. I was so desperate to keep magic alive, even in the weaker form that it was in now, that I agreed. Many years ago I had sealed off certain rooms in the castle. Many of them with objects of historical or sentimental value locked up within them. I had wanted them exactly the same as Arthur left them, so that when he returned he'd have something familiar around him. They set up shop in Camelot Castle, even managing to move the entire thing closer to the lake. I watched as it was slowly turned into a school for wizards and witches.

Another 100 years passed. I snapped. I had become so tired, but everytime I shut my eyes I saw him, and I cried at the pain. I'm nothing without him. Nothing without Arthur. I had waited for 600 years. But he's never coming back. I had failed. Arthur never created Albion, there's nothing for him to return to defend.

That was when I changed. When I got sick. I spent an entire year trying to join him. Trying to force myself to move on. But I couldn't. I began traveling all over the world. Five years trying to find something that could kill me.

Nothing could.

This is it. I failed, I couldn't protect him. Now I'm being punished. I'm destined to spend eternity with this pain and no way to ease it.

That's when I was lost.

500 years later:

A man was walking through the woods.

People weren't sure whether he was truly a man or not but he looked like he might be a man, so people said he was a man.

He walked along the woods.

People saw him sometimes.

Dressed in clothes that may once have been worn by a squire, but now only clung to his body by a few threads.

A black cloak old and torn on the edges, but definitely newer than this tunic and trousers, hung over his shoulders. His hood covered his eyes.

Some say his eyes are completely black, like a demon.

Others swear the irises are made of pure molten gold, and he had scars covering his arms. But no one has really seen them.

The man was pale, sickly pale.

And he walked barefoot along the forest floor. It was presumed his shoes had rotted away, as the man would walk through the forest, every night without fail, deep within the forbidden forest.

They say that if you follow him long enough he goes to the shore of the lake, and collapses on the water's edge, before beginning to sob, screaming at the gods.

They know he can't be human.

He's been around for 500 hundred years, and hasn't aged at all.

No one knows who the man used to be, or who he is now.

Some say he isn't real.

But he's there.