"We're not gonna sit in silence

We're not gonna live with fear"

The problem with immortality is that after a couple of years, people start to notice. It was fascinating to Merlin that human beings, who really couldn't concentrate on one thing for more than 10 minutes, could notice such subtle changes. Merlin learned that the hard way when he spent 5 hours trying to convince a group of teenagers that he just had really good skin. Merlin had recommended the first face cream that came to mind and then moved across the country the next day. Because when people start to notice, they ask questions and Merlin really didn't have the answer to those questions. He just accepted the fact he was a freak of nature and moved on.

Because of this, Merlin has never stayed in one place for more than a couple of years. He's never made friends who paid enough attention to him and the only real constant in his life was the lake, which he tried to return to every so often. It was lonely but Merlin was used to it. He couldn't remember the last time he had a real friend who stuck by his side. Most people in his life were merely a blimp in the centuries that Merlin has been alive. Insignificant. Every last one of them. And Merlin for the life of him couldn't remember even one of their names. It comes with being alive for so long. After a while, Merlin stopped bothering to figure out their names anyway. Why should it matter? They'll be nothing to him in a couple of decades.

Merlin had lived in the UK for the past five years. He'd already lived in basically every European state and for some reason, Merlin couldn't find it in him to leave. He knew that logically, he should go off and explore the rest of the world. But Europe felt like home. And Merlin had stopped wondering why.

At the crack of dawn, Merlin was up and out of bed. He didn't know when it had become a habit. For an immortal being, Merlin's life was rather boring. He was a barista at the coffee shop down the street. His coworkers think that he's earning money to go to Cambridge because his parents had abandoned him. Merlin supposed that the last part wasn't really a lie. Everyone abandoned him sooner or later. Little did they know, Merlin had attended Cambridge three times already, all under different names.

His shift ends around 3:00 pm and Merlin goes to the park that's a couple of blocks away. He would sit in front of the fountain and sketch until it's too dark to see. And then, if he's feeling adventurous, he would sketch some more because it's always interesting to see his blind sketches the next day.

Once the sun disappeared over the horizon, and all the lights on the street have flicked on, Merlin would head home and cook some dinner. He'll clean his flat and get ready for bed and lay down. And he stays there drifting between consciousness and not and filled with that feeling that something just isn't right. A feeling that doesn't leave until the next morning. If it's a weekend, he would drop by a local bar after dinner and gets drunk. It's freeing in a way. To let go and rest his mind from the strain of trying to remember what he knows he forgot. Sometimes he wakes up on the side of the road. Sometimes in a stranger's bed and sometimes on his own. It's thrilling. To lose himself and wonder where he'll end up in the morning. A kind of mystery that he never gets tired of.

Now Merlin considers himself a fairly happy person. He has a roof over his head and food and a couple of friends he knows he won't remember in a decade. There are times when Merlin would discover a new hobby or a new shop and he won't stop smiling for weeks. It gets hard though. To let himself be happy knowing that it won't last. That nagging feeling of something missing that just never goes away. That feeling most people get before going to bed when they just know they forgot something.

But Merlin ignores it. He's gotten good after the past couple thousand years. Part of him wonders what it was like before he could ignore it. Before that sense of everlasting despair was just a dull throb in the back of his mind. If he could remember it, he would feel grateful that it's different now. He doesn't.

Merlin readjusted his bag of groceries over his shoulder, cursing for the twelfth time that day his decision to walk to the store from the park. The sun was moments away from dipping below the horizon and red streaks of light had already begun to intermingle with the green sky. The rows of lights that line the street slowly brightened to accommodate the lack of sunshine and the autumn leaves crunched and crinkled beneath his feet. Merlin never tired of watching the shops close down and the lights flicker on in the apartments across the street. He watched a group of kids skateboarding down the street and couldn't help the bitter swell in his chest when their laughter rang across the darkening streets.

Merlin made his way to his flat and didn't bother turning on the lights when he entered. He dropped the bag of groceries and shoved the fresh fruits and vegetables in the fridge, saving the strawberries. Grabbing a handful, he went out to the balcony that overlooked the streets he just came from. All things considered, it was a pretty nice view. Merlin stayed there, popping strawberries in his mouth and thinking of everything and nothing at the same time.

Merlin honestly doesn't know if he'll recall anything of this day the next and it should be worrying that his memory had clearly gotten worse but Merlin didn't take the time to bother. He sunk his teeth into the last strawberry, digging out the green leaves sprouting from the top. Spitting the leaves into his palm, he popped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth. The taste was bittersweet and left a tangy texture on his tongue. Merlin honestly didn't like strawberries all that much but kept buying them. He reckons it was once for sentimental reasons. Maybe a past lover or friend that he was once fond of. Merlin doesn't care enough to find out.

-0-o-0-

"You're the voice, try and understand it

Make a noise and make it clear"

There is something very disorienting about waking up and finding out that the world you live in is nothing like the one you last knew. The forest that Arthur knew was once thriving around the Lake of Avalon, was gone. Buried beneath the paved streets and bustling shops. Everything was blurred and hurried like the painter of the universe had become sloppy near the end. Life seemed to blow right past Arthur's eyes and he found himself gasping for breath as if he'd never really made it out from the lake. While Camelot was by no means a small kingdom, Arthur had always considered the community he lived in to be fairly cozy. He always had his knights or friends or Merlin around to guide him and make it home.

Now, in this seemingly new world, Arthur couldn't help but feel small. With no guide or way or path carved out for him, he wasn't above admitting that he was terrified of what lay ahead. Being King of Camelot was lonely. But there was a difference between being lonely and fitting in. Standing at the edge of this new world, dressed in dripping wet armor, and with no idea what to expect, Arthur did not fit in. Arthur glanced back at the others and found that they were in a similar state. Arthur steeled himself. He may not be king anymore, but he still considered himself their leader.

They slowly made their way down the road, carefully avoiding the zooming metal boxes that were nothing but dust faster than Arthur could blink. It took all of Arthur's willpower not to shudder from what looked like blatant magic that was trying to kill them. This was a new world, with new rules, and Arthur wasn't stupid enough to try and fight metal boxes with his rusted sword.

All the knights took turns carrying Morgana and Arthur had to hide a snicker when Gwaine accidentally dropped her, nearly cracking her skull open. Arthur had barely spent two minutes holding his sister before shoving her back to someone else. He was kind of surprised she hadn't woken yet but he really wasn't complaining.

After what seemed like hours, they arrived on what looked like the edge of a town. The sun had reached high in the sky and Arthur now was dripping in sweat rather than the lake water. His armor, long taken off, hung heavy in his arms and his legs ached from the long walk. The seemingly endless roads split into smaller ones that thread through shops and buildings bustling with people.

Arthur and the rest of them dropped their armor into an empty alleyway. As much as he loved the armor, he didn't think it would be useful in this new world. Arthur swiped a hand across his forehead, gathering the sweat, and gazed out to the streets. He took a breath and resolved his strength. They were here to find Merlin. That was the only thing that kept Arthur going and he was sure it wasn't much different from the others. Arthur's hope was slowly waning, though. This new world seemed endless and filled with people. To find one man within it felt impossible.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and Arthur jerked beneath it. He glanced up to find Elyan watching him. Look around Arthur. We would fight a thousand armies with our bare hands for you. You're never alone. We stand together. Arthur swallowed and glanced back at the rest of them. His eyes locked with Gwaine and Arthur could almost hear his voice in the back of his mind. I think we've no chance. But I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Leon spoke, his voice soft. "Don't lose hope now, Arthur." I have fought alongside you many times. There is no one that I would rather die for. Percival caught his eyes and gave a firm nod. Arthur almost smiles. Percival was always a man of few words. His gaze then slipped to Guinevere. She was watching him carefully.

Arthur exhaled slowly. "You with me?"

Gwen grasped his hand, pulling it to her chest, and gave him a firm stare. "Always." With all my heart.

-0-o-0-