The Lost King—Chapter 8
The sorcerer's smell was getting stronger. It was easy to sort it out from all the other scents of the world. Nothing reeked of the Old Religion here, only of dust and poison and humanity. The humans were choking the world with their concrete forests. The Earth itself was ready to rebel. It only needed a spark, a champion. The Afanc was that champion. It would destroy the sorcerer and then it would destroy humanity. And once more the Wild Magic would reign free and unbridled upon the earth.
-(0)—(0)-(0)-
Addy finally caught up with Arthur and Merlin just outside of her car. They seemed to be having some sort of argument.
Merlin was gesturing wildly. "LOOK AROUND, Arthur. You are not in a magical realm full of vengeful sorcerers that locked you up. You DIED! I was there! This is not Camelot, it is a completely different world now. Time has moved on."
"Merlin. Really." Arthur scoffed. He shook his head at Merlin as if he were an ignorant child. "Just tell me the truth. Did you set this whole thing up? Were you worried about, you know, me punishing you for using magic?"
Grinding his teeth, Merlin stammered. He had forgotten just how much of a prat Arthur could be. "I wasn't worried about – AHHH! I did not -!" He threw his hands into the air and walked in a circle. Finally, he took a deep, long breath and said slowly, in the most condescending way possible. "Arthur. Stop. Being. A. PRAT! Listen to me. You have been dead. For close to one thousand years You have woken up in the future. This is the year 2013. And there is NO GOING BACK!"
Arthur opened his mouth and then looked at Merlin's face. That was Merlin's serious face. The one that he had learned to trust the hard way. So, Arthur did as he was told. He looked around. Really looked around. And it was not what he had expected. There were no forests here, no small villages, no riders on horseback, no people plowing their fields. Nothing that he had come to associate with the world at large was there. Instead, there were large stone buildings, each as big as the castle keep, paved roads with strange metal monsters zipping past. And beasts in the air, so high up, he could barely see them. What kind of place was this?
Merlin saw the light of comprehension flow into his eyes. With a quiver in his voice, Arthur said, "You-you're serious, aren't you?"
Sadly, but with relief, Merlin nodded. "Yes. Arthur. And I'm sorry. I really am."
Arthur couldn't stop staring at things. His eyes darted furiously from traffic lights to people walking their dogs to flashing video screens hung on the sides of buildings. It was all too much. Where was everyone he had known? "They're all gone? Gwen, Leon, Gwain? All of them?"
"Yes, Arthur. I was there when Gwen became Queen. She was a very good queen. She would have made you proud." His voice broke. He had rehearsed what to tell Arthur many times, but now that he was faced with it, he couldn't do it. "She-she did what she had to do to ensure the prosperity of the kingdom." How could he tell Arthur his beloved Gwen had remarried? Not only that, but that she had born three sons to her new husband.
Arthur saw the look on Merlin's face and acknowledged. Of course she did. That's why I left the kingdom to her."And Camelot survived? Albion was saved?"
Merlin nodded happily. "Yes, Arthur. This is what Albion has become, this is what you helped to build. The world, Arthur, it's bigger than you can possibly imagine. So many people. And they still remember you. They still remember what you stood for."
Arthur was speechless. People still remembered him? The little wheels of thought were finally starting to turn for him. "If Albion is doing so well, why am I here at all? How did I come back from the dead. And... Wait... Why are you here, Merlin?"
Merlin's eyes darted off, the way they always did when he was conflicted about delivering some piece of news. Arthur had learned that whatever came next out of Merlin's mouth would either be: A) a lie, in which case Merlin would shift nervously and laugh a lot, B) a load of rubbish, in which case Arthur would throw something large and preferably heavy at him, or C) the truth, in which case, Arthur would have to brace himself for something shocking and awful.
"I-I...em...," he was stalling. Arthur wished he did have something large and heavy to throw right now.
"Go on. Spit it out." He crossed his arms and stared. "If you don't say what it is that's causing you to get all tongue-tied, I'll cut it out for you. Get on with it!"
"I can't die." Merlin stated emphatically. Arthur was glaring now, so Merlin continued, hardly daring to breathe. "I mean, I don't think I can. I generally try to avoid it as a rule. Still, I'm pretty sure most normal things won't kill me. But if say, you chopped off my head and burned my body to ash, then I'm pretty sure I would be, um... dead. Or you could always try-"
"Merlin."
"Yes, My Lord?"
"Shut up, before I'm forced to try one of your suggestions." Arthur was done, his patience gone. He had just found out he had been killed, come back to life, that he was now one thousand years in the future, and that everyone and everything he cared about was gone. The thought that his best friend was immortal was simply far too much. Whatever sort of mess Merlin had obviously gotten him into, it was time he got him out of it.
"Merlin," he sighed.
"Yes, Sire?"
"WHY AM I HERE!" Arthur demanded.