The Mortal World

'Welcome to this year's Total Excellence in Policing Awards!'

He let a bit too much champagne slip past his lips and ignored the obnoxiously cheery presenter. Leon's eyes were on him and Arthur tipped up the flute once more before he put it down. He scanned his eyes over the room. Gwen had made sure she had a seat next to Lance. They had decided on a wedding next May.

Percy and Leon sat on either side of him, with Gwaine wedged in between Leon and Elyan. They were all similar and strange. It had left him off-kilter. They still treated him like a King with their respect, their loyalty that went beyond just friendship. They'd die for each other.

'Now for the Outstanding Bravery of the Year award,' the presenter's voice boomed through the speakers. 'While this is said every year, this was a difficult decision. The recipient for this award took severe scrutiny and no small amount of deliberation.'

She paused for the obligatory laughter. It made his skin crawl. The pageantry echoed Camelot's grand hall and the awards evenings Uther had dragged him to when he was little in London. Age ten through to eighteen it had been his duty to attend, his and Morgana's. He finished his champagne with one last swig and stared at the candle flame of the central candelabra.

'The award for Outstanding Bravery of the Year goes to Detective Constable Mordred Leir for his heroic actions in the Old Religion case this summer. Going far beyond rank, beyond job description, and bringing a formidable threat on London's streets to its knees, DC Leir has earned our respect.'

Closer to the stage a figure rose, weaved its way to the stairs and climbed. Sharp suit, dark hair and thick eyebrows. Mordred shook her hand, flashed a quick smile and took the small glass block with his free hand. Arthur watched, tongue pushed up against the back of his front teeth as they ground down together. Mordred left the stage and sank back into the sea of heads fluidly, poised and controlled.

'For Commitment to Professionalism Whilst Overcoming Adversity, we have several exceptional officers to award,' she continued and Arthur focused back on the candle flame, on the new taste of alcohol that clung to his tongue, on the smell of colognes and perfumes. Leon's eyes were on him again and when he met his friend's stare they locked, questioned him. He nodded and the moment passed. 'And finally, although he can't be here with us today, Detective Sergeant Merlin Emrys. In his stead I'd like to invite his partner DS Arthur Pendragon to accept the award on his behalf.'

Shit. They all looked at him. He held his breath, pulled on his trained smile, and stood up.

'As DCI Kilgharrah always phrased it, you were like two sides of the same coin. Even when friends turned against him, against you both, DS Emrys pursued justice and risked his life to stop a serial killer. Our thoughts are with him, and with you DS Pendragon, who stood by his side fearlessly in a true display of partnership and loyalty. A round of applause for DS Merlin Emrys!'

He made his way to the stage, avoided chairs, handbags, the odd waiter who silently filled glasses, while the cacophony of claps encouraged him on. Ghostly faces watched him as he climbed the stage and the glass weight in his hand burned cold as the presenter put her hand on his shoulder and smiled with closed-lips. The clapping dragged out a few more seconds then it died and the corner of his smile twitched, faltered.

When he got back to their table the smile was dead and his phone had buzzed twice in his blazer's inner pocket. Behind him she carried on with announcing 'winners' and he rested the glass down on his chair to check his phone. Two missed calls from Kilgharrah. His name flashed up on the screen with a third call and Arthur swiped to answer.

'Arthur, we've got another one.'

He perched on the edge of his seat and shared a look with Leon then Gwaine.

'I'm afraid you'll have to save the partying for another night. Forensics are on their way to the crime scene in Camden right now and I've texted you the address. Take whoever you need.'

'I'm on my way,' he said, voice low, and hung up. The address sat in his messages, meaningless. Letters and numbers took him to the victims but they never captured what he found, what he felt.

Flat 7B

Bassemer Court

Rochester Road

Camden

London

NW1 9EJ

The others around the table looked at him.

'Leon, Gwaine, time to go. There's another one in Camden,' he whispered and left, holding the heavy 'trophy' by his side. Arthur pushed through the wooden double doors at the far end of the grand ballroom into the well-lit corridor.

Leon jogged up beside him. 'You're okay?'

He nodded. 'I'll be better once we solve this case.'

'Let me see that,' Gwaine said and whisked the trophy up and out of his hand. They never lost stride as they headed outside, the cold night air thicker with an earlier rainfall. Arthur could see Gwaine eye the glass award, how he held it securely in both hands, as they headed to a small car park next to the InterContinental Park Lane Hotel.

'Adversity,' the Irishman said through a chuckle.

'What's that?' Leon asked.

'Overcoming Adversity, that's what they called it. That's what they call what happened to us all, to Merlin. Really brings it home, you know? How the privileged can judge things so lightly.'

'What would you call it, then?'

'I don't know,' he said. 'Maybe something along the lines of being framed, publicly ruined, psychologically fucked with, and still having the strength to try and save people even when they all tried to prosecute him like a criminal.'

Leon smiled softly. 'Bit long.'

'Merlin deserves a long-arse title, mate.'

'He deserves more than an award or title,' Arthur interjected as they reached his BMW.

'Have you visited him recently?' Leon asked.

'No, not for the last month,' he lied and the memory of his last visit earlier that day flared up. His eyes had been closed, as usual, breaths long and faint, motionless. The blinds of the private room were open, facing out across London's skyline in the dying evening light, and it had cast streams of sunshine across the bed and the one side of Merlin's face.

It had taken two months of that, of talking to his unconscious body, before he'd snapped. He'd rushed into an arrest without back up. The suspect was a member of one of the borough gangs and had a pistol and a crowbar. They'd tried both on him and it all happened too fast for him to get out. If Leon hadn't realised what he'd disappeared to do and shown up ten minutes later?

He'd stayed away from Merlin after that but staying away had made it worse. So he'd gone to see him.

Arthur ducked into the driver's seat and pushed in his key, lit the ignition, closed his door, and waited for them to get in. It was cool and dry inside with shadows that pooled around them and the black leather. Arthur flicked the custom-made switch for the siren as the other two climbed in and pulled out from the car park, engine rumbling softly through the car's body. He told himself he didn't know why he'd been so reckless. A small part of him itched with the reason every day. To hurt, to feel something different and distracting, to maybe see Merlin wake up to save him again.

The siren started scratchily at first, then whined out from small speakers attached within in the front grate of the car where blue emergency lights flashed and blinked. Saturday night traffic was heavy but after twenty minutes of cutting through lanes and red traffic lights they made it to the block of flats. Another police response vehicle was parked outside and a PC led them up the stairwell to the right floor. They filled the oppressive anticipation with small, direct conversation, recalling the last victim they'd found and the notable details until they reached police tape stretched across the open doorway.

'DS Pendragon,' the officer outside said with a nod. 'Hope you skipped dinner.'

Gwaine scoffed. 'Oh, it's worse. We were at the awards. With an open bar.'

The officer frowned. 'Uhm, maybe-'

'No,' Arthur cut in. 'For christ's sake, two glasses of champagne will hardly affect my judgement.'

'There was a glass of red too, mate,' Gwaine added.

Arthur stood up straighter. 'This is our case and the response team did the right thing in contacting DCI Kilgharrah. How many?'

'Just the one,' she said and gestured inside. They pulled on the white suits, shoe covers, gloves and masks, then Arthur ducked under the tape and crossed into the living room.

His breath caught itself in his chest.

'What—' Leon started as he stepped up next to him. His head buzzed numbly for a second as he took it all in. The flat was small, the living room had an open-plan kitchen and two doors on either side, a window that filled up half the wall opposite. It's curtains were half drawn and partly torn.

The kitchen itself was a mess, plates and glasses broken on the floor and counters, cupboard doors hanging from their hinges. A large black scorch mark was seared into the far corner where the two walls met the ceiling, the TV screen was toppled, smashed, and papers, magazines, and a few books laid haphazardly over the room. The blood practically blended in, drawn across the walls, carpet, lampshades, as if someone had thrown it around out of paint cans. It had splattered along the curtains, the ripped sofa, everything.

'She's through there,' one of the forensics officers said as they snapped another picture of the kitchen and pointed to the right door closest to them. Arthur kept to the stepping plates and headed into the bathroom.

Black mould had sunk in between a few of the white tiles and the shower curtain was tucked to the side to reveal the body. A thin arm hung over the edge of the tub. Arthur approached her, noticed that Leon lingered at the doorway, and that Gwaine had disappeared entirely. He knelt down and gently turned her arm, mentally noted the injection points that bruised her skin an ugly mixture of blue, yellow and brown along her forearm, then moved towards her face. Her pupil's were blown as her eyes stared out blankly with a dull golden colour.

The familiarity of the irises made his chest constrict as the image of Merlin's eyes shining a brighter hue cut through his concentration. Swallowing the memory his eyes moved down to her body, grey t-shirt dark and soaked through as it rested in the still water. Its surface reached just under her breasts and had turned a strange pink colour.

The lower half of her right arm was gone. The jagged stub just below her elbow was obscured lightly by the still water. Bile rose and burned in the back of his throat. He swallowed again and stood up. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, dry like her face. She hadn't drowned. The blood in the living room, pink water and missing limb suggested blood loss was a major factor, if not the direct cause of death. He couldn't be certain with these cases. Normal rules didn't seem to apply. He left the bathroom to see Gwaine staring at the window.

'Arthur, you should see this,' he said through the mask and he headed over. Gwaine held the curtain back out of view to show a round bloody stump sticking out from the glass by an inch. The forearm stretched through the glass out the other side of the window where her hand hung limp and pale. She'd been reaching through the glass.

'This isn't possible,' Leon said behind them both.

Gwaine leaned his face in towards the window, dark eyebrows crushed together as he studied the fixed forearm. 'It's not impossible. Evidence speaks for itself.'

'But how?'

'Magic,' Gwaine said and Arthur shot him a look. 'Just one suggestion.'

'Why haven't we seen anything like this before?'

'I think we have, just never this obvious. Remember that waiter at Whitehall? He died from what appeared to be a heart attack after his shift ended, but he had the same injection marks and was in perfect health. The injections have been our only connecting factor so far. That and the golden irises. This just means there's a lot more going on.'

'Kilgharrah, he said something about Nimueh giving magic back to the world didn't he?' Leon asked quietly and looked at Arthur.

'We stopped her,' he said coldly. 'Morgana stopped her.'

Gwaine stepped back and picked up an evidence bag on the coffee table. 'Maybe she didn't.'

Arthur breathed deeply, ignored the way his heart rate picked up, and dragged his eyes from the girl's arm to the wallet Gwaine was investigating.

He pushed out a driver's licence. 'Her name is Amanda Matthews. She's twenty-two years old.'

'Was,' Arthur corrected. Gwaine looked up at him then back down as he carried on searching through the slots, pushed up several credit cards, then paused.

'Where have we seen this before?'

He carefully pulled out a small card and held it by the corner between thumb and index finger to show Arthur.

'Of course they have a bloody business card,' Arthur muttered and took it, trapping its edges with his fingers. A spiral filled the centre of the card, a simple design in black ink repeated on both sides. Six curved lines from where it spread out from the centre focal point. His brow throbbed and he gave it back. 'Leon, go talk to the neighbours, even the ones Uniforms have already canvassed. Gwaine, I want you to find the building's security and pull any surveillance. I'm going to talk to Mordred.'

'Sure you want to talk to him alone?' he asked.

'He's the last officer to work the Old Religion case, the last person who has magic that we know of, and he's more irritating than dangerous. I'll be fine. Report in at the Yard at ten. Call if anything happens, okay?'

Gwaine nodded. 'Yes, sir.'

Arthur left and stripped off the protective clothing in seconds before he rang Gwen and headed down the eerily quiet staircase.

'Arthur?'

'Put Mordred on the phone,' he said and winced at the demanding tone in his voice. 'Please. It's an emergency.'

The announcements were over now judging by the background music and chatter he heard. 'Okay. Are you alright?'

'I'm fine, I just need to talk to him.'

He heard muffled conversation on the other end of the line before Mordred's voice came through with a curious note. 'Hello?'

Arthur kept his breaths measured and explained quickly, 'We've got a business card with Old Religion's symbol on it at a crime scene. Victim appears to have been killed with magic, or at least magic was involved in the moments preceding her death. Her eyes are gold as well. Going to help?'

'Where's the crime scene?'

'Camden. I'll send you the exact address. Once you've taken a look find me at Scotland Yard. I don't care if it's not procedure or if you're with Intelligence. We clear?'

'Crystal.'

'Put Gwen back on.'

A beat passed by then Gwen's voice floated over the connection again. 'Arthur? What's going on?'

'I'm going to send you an address. Make sure Mordred notes it down. I promise I'll explain later,' he said.

'You better,' she warned and Arthur smiled before he hung up and climbed back into his car. When the door slammed shut and darkness fell over him his heartbeat pulsed in his ears and fingertips. Her stillness, the cold touch of her skin, of Merlin's skin, soaked into his thoughts. The pressure of his dying body on that street pushed against his chest again, the strange panic that drained everything out of the air came back and heat pricked up behind his eyes.

His hands slammed into the steering wheel, once, twice, three times until he pushed his forehead down against it, chest heaving and palms stinging. His breaths were the only sound, ragged and strained. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his teeth, and kept the cry contained to a broken, choking growl in his throat. It hurt but he forced it out from his chest until the pressure was too much and he gasped in a lungful of air.

Arthur leaned back into the leather and turned his head to the empty passenger seat. Merlin had sat there the first day they met a year before. He could remember how heavily it rained that day, how clumsy and thoughtful the new DC had been. Neither of them had any idea.

'Why aren't you here? Why won't you come back?'

Silence.

Arthur breathed heavily, wiped his cheeks and started the engine. He was talking to thin air now. Bloody fantastic. He had to concentrate on the case. The traffic was heavy, kept him at a crawling pace for most of the journey back to Westminster, but he eventually made it with his concentration back. With Merlin tucked away safely in his head.

Their floor of operations was warm and reasonably quiet when he stepped out of the lift, and Kilgharrah's office door stood open. Arthur made it there in seconds and saw the DCI behind his desk with his head over papers.

He marched up to the front of his desk. 'You said we'd stopped it. When Mordred told us what happened on the mountain you said Nimueh's enchantment couldn't work but this is the fifth case in the last three weeks with magic involved.'

'How do you know magic was involved in the previous four?'

'How do I-' Arthur stopped with a laugh of disbelief. 'I'm not an idiot, Kilgharrah. I knew something was going on when you started consulting different teams and their cases were left unsolved, apparently unnoticed by anyone else in the Met, press or the public. You've been steering officers away from crimes and there's no other reason I can think of.'

'You've been spying on me,' the man noted with narrowed eyes.

'I don't trust you.'

'You've become paranoid since Aredian's men attacked you. You tracked them down, Arthur. Let it go.'

'Let it go?'

'It was three months ago. You need to trust me again. You need to trust your team.'

'That isn't the point. Morgana died to stop it from happening. You said the enchantment couldn't have gone through but it has. How?'

'If Morgana's powers were greater than I anticipated, her death may have been enough to fulfil the spell in Mordred's place. Especially when coupled with whatever Aredian did to Merlin, if the two were in any way connected.'

'How do we stop it?'

'I don't know.'

'You don't know?' he hissed, the anger slipping out of his control but he reeled it back and shook his head. 'You don't know. Well, since you can't help Mordred has to. Merlin's been unconscious since the attack or have you forgotten? The surgery to try and save his life? The news that he'd entered a bloody coma? Another thing you can't explain. What's the point of you, Kilgharrah? Riddles, not knowing, and way too many lies. What are the chances we'd all end up here, at the same time, in the same murder team?'

'Everything's bound together, Arthur. Fate doesn't play games.'

'More riddles. That's bullshit and you know it.'

'Watch yourself, Pendragon. I am still your superior and with your recent behaviour it is well within my rights to suspend you.'

'Suspend me? Why not fully commit and fire me. Get it over with. Fate and I are long overdue a divorce.'

'Say it!' someone said behind him. Arthur turned around at the outburst. Gwaine walked down the open isle on the right, a smile smacked across his face. 'Go on.'

'You're the best detective I've ever known,' Leon drawled out with a flat monotone and shot Arthur a pleading look when he spotted him through the office doorway.

'Glad you finally admitted it, Leon,' Gwaine said before waving at Arthur. 'Hey, got the footage.'

He glanced back at Kilgharrah.

'I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear that,' the DCI told him quietly.

Arthur left the room to meet them. 'Normally there's more bureaucracy involved.'

Gwaine's smile grew and he held up a camera. 'Not when there's a bored wannabe photographer who happened to be capturing city aesthetic or whatever outside the block when the crime took place.'

'Kid was taking pictures of us when we came out. Once Gwaine stopped posing he let us borrow it with strict instructions to handle it with care,' Leon added and took the camera from Gwaine's grasp to set up the USB connection and download the files. All three of them crowded around the desktop, Kilgharrah joining them just as Leon pulled up the first image.

They spent five minutes of clicking through them before Arthur saw it.

'There,' he said and pointed. 'Eyes.'

The image was high quality, focused on shadows versus light, but the gold shone out from the boy's face in the dying afternoon light. He was staring ahead, apparently unaware of his observer.

'Definitely magic,' Gwaine whispered. 'Why do I have that weird feeling in my chest?'

'Heartburn?' Leon asked and Gwaine slapped his arm.

'The feeling is the same one I get when something's worse than I actually think it is.'

'Must get it a lot, huh?'

'A few glasses of bubbly and you lose all your manners, Leon.'

'Guys,' Arthur cut in. 'There's a good chance Nimueh's doomsday spell wasn't stopped. I've heard of a few cases involving magic like this in the last month. Kilgharrah has suspicions too.'

Gwaine stared at him.

'Morgana's death must have triggered it,' Arthur added.

'Shit, I'm so sorry mate,' he said, hand on his shoulder.

'It doesn't matter. We need to find whoever killed the girl, whoever is in this picture, and make sure they can't hurt anyone else.'

'Arthur,' Leon said in front of him.

'Yes, Leon?'

'This could easily turn into a witch hunt. A literal witch hunt.'

'We've got to reverse her enchantment then, don't we?'

'You know how to?'

'No idea,' Arthur said with a wry smile. He found himself smiling about the impossible, painful things a lot lately. As if grinning through them would make it okay, or at least make the rest of them feel better.

'No. No way,' Gwaine said darkly and stood back. Arthur looked up at him, then saw Mordred still dressed in his suit walk up.

'Out of options, so play nice,' he said into Gwaine's ear and straightened up to face Mordred. 'So?'

'Warlock did it. Young, there was a fight.'

'That's all you got?' Gwaine scoffed. Arthur elbowed him.

'I'm not omnipotent and my strength is halved with Merlin's condition.'

'My sympathies,' Arthur said with narrowed eyes.

Mordred's lips pulled up into a smile. 'My time is limited so if you want my help on this you should work quickly.'

'Got somewhere better to be?'

'Oh you know, just some broomsticks to test out and then there's that cauldron I left on the fire, if that boils over London's . . . Well, it all goes boom,' he said and Arthur made sure he kept his own temper in check. 'Seriously, I've got an operation running right now and I have to get back on duty Monday. Won't have much spare time after that.'

'We have a picture for now. It told us as much as you did,' Leon told him and motioned to the screen. Mordred fixed his stare onto it and moved forward. Arthur made sure he and Gwaine got out of the way. When Mordred leaned forward his tie tipped down and brushed the desk, curly hair shifting slightly. He moved a hand towards it and rested his fingertips against the screen.

Small inky grains plucked themselves out of the plastic and coiled around Mordred's fingers like a liquid, rolling in thin streams up his hand and disappearing under his cuff. Arthur watched silently as his clear eyes filled with that familiar fire. Mordred's mouth became slack, lips parted and brows furrowed. He jerked back, the grains falling down and puffing out into a mist when they made contact with the keyboard, desk, Leon's arm.

'What is it?'

'That magic, it's not like ours, mine and Merlin's. Not Morgana's either.'

'I thought as much,' Kilgharrah said with a sigh.

Arthur frowned. 'Why isn't it?'

'They're not reincarnations. Their magic is sourced from the modern world. I can feel it even in this image. This kind of power isn't possible, not even with what Nimueh planned to do. It's something else.'

'Reincarnations? Like Buddhism?' Leon asked.

Mordred looked at Arthur. 'You haven't-'

'Later, Leon. Does knowing that help us?'

'I can't track him. I don't have enough power,' he mumbled and stepped away from them. 'If you need my help you should call. I've got to go.'

'Helpful as ever,' Gwaine said. Mordred was half way to the lifts already. 'There's not much else we can do until the forensics come in.'

Vibrations shot across his thigh and Arthur dug out his buzzing phone.

'What is it?'

'It's Percy,' he said, staring at the screen. 'He's set up a blind date for me.'

'He did what? Want me to bite off his head?'

Arthur shook his head. 'No, it's not like I have to go. Anyway, Merlin and I broke things off before the attack.'

'Arthur, maybe you should give it some time? Wait until Merlin wakes up?'

'What do you think I've been doing, Gwaine? What if he doesn't wake up?' he snapped. The thoughts sent a cold shudder through him and he swallowed the painful lump. 'I'm going to get some sleep. Tomorrow morning we should get everyone in and brief them.'

He had climbed back into his car the next conscious second he was aware of. What if he doesn't wake up? Arthur's stomach growled into the quiet and he sighed. He'd forgotten to eat again. Sixteen minutes later and he climbed back out of the car in the hospital car park. It was well beyond visiting hours but he walked up to the stretch leading up to the main entrance anyway. Half of St Thomas' windows glowed with warm light and people milled around, but most noise came from the main road, most of the light from Westminster across the river. The hospital grounds were a pocket of calm surrounded by the city.

Arthur walked over to the concrete wall that faced out towards the river and Parliament. It had tall leafless trees which stretched up high and hung over him with thin spindly branches. He found the markings he'd discovered there the first week Merlin had been admitted, the little messages left scratched into the wall's top. They were obscured by the dark but he knew them well enough: M & R in a heart with 12.11.15 written along the side, RP + ST in another smaller heart, Dean M. 23.08.16, AJ CH Forever.

He couldn't know for certain what they meant. If people wrote them down here together, just for fun, or for people they'd lost. To mark the dates they were there, or to mark that they'd be together in those hearts 'forever' even though they couldn't be together in any other way. He had no idea how he'd scratch himself into the wall, only that he'd make sure Merlin's initials were cut in next to his.

.

.

.

'Arthur?' he called out.

The form ahead stared at him, right through him, with wide blue eyes. Merlin studied it, the hair, its deep frown, open mouth, broad shoulders, defensive position. It looked like him. Seconds passed before he inhaled, stepped forward, and the body was thrown backwards. Fire licked up Arthur's legs, bright sparks sprayed out from a burning impact in his chest, glass shattered somewhere and the form tore apart into shreds of cloth and ash.

A breeze plucked up the remains in front of him and carried them into the sky. Merlin's stomach twisted and he pressed his lips together. Cold air brushed against him, his hands tingling and numb, breath visibly grey before it dispersed. He turned back, saw the barren street stretch too far behind him, and noticed the houses themselves reach up higher into the overcast sky.

He marched on, heartbeat slowing down from the encounter, and listened to the low howl of the winds as the windows around him creaked and cracked while brick compacted into dust. It all groaned in closer. Eventually the street became wild, the houses turned into scorched walls that towered over sixty feet above him, the cool slate sky distilled into a dark, thick fog.

Back in the Labyrinth. He'd never left it. The last time he'd been here he'd almost drowned. The time before that he'd been captured by vines. It was changing, stony, and made the Labyrinth of Gedref look like a theme park attraction in comparison. At least Arthur had actually been with him then and he'd known where he really was with map references.

Snow flakes drifted down, soaked into his skin, and his next step crunched. A thin sheet of ice covered the ground, fractals growing and cutting around him as it spread. The quiet hum and cracking broke under a scream and Merlin looked up to see the dragon beat its leathery wings overhead. His body was tired and ached from the constant cold, the onslaught of dangers, but when the sound of rushing water hit his ears he swallowed it all down and ran. Each step splashed, dragged, and the black water continued to swell around him, quickly filling the narrow space between the walls. He threw his body to the right down a new stretch, then left, then right again, and the rushing water around his thighs began to crackle.

Heat slammed into him. He gasped and stepped backwards into an unfamiliar room. Fire roared up and lashed out at the paint on the walls, the curtains. Straight ahead a dark shape yelled something he couldn't understand. Its eyes burned. Merlin backed away and walked into something. He looked down and saw another Arthur, face contorted with panic. The dark faceless shape shouted out something again, and the fire grew, one of its hands lighting up with a flickering orange. It hurled the distorted colour out before it moved next to Arthur and made him cry out. Arthur wasn't doing anything to stop it. He was terrified. The contorted colour surrounding them unrolled itself, spiked and churning with shadows inside. Merlin rushed at the shadowy form next to Arthur, eyes squeezed shut against the numbing pain of the fires, and kept running until they collided and he tackled it to the ground.

It all slipped out beneath him and he fell, the familiar cold charging around him. He recognised the waves below, the low light of the overcast sky and setting sun. He'd done it once before. He could do it again. The white foam spilled up against the cliff face, dark water thrashed up and down, and Merlin stopped trying to breathe through the rush.

Don't close your eyes.

He jerked awake on the muddy ground. The looming shadow of trees and branches pressed in around him. No bird song. Not even a trace of wind.

'Emrys.'

He twisted his neck around to see the woman standing behind him. Her clothes hung loose, faded and dull like the dark hair which framed her face. It couldn't be real. It wasn't her. Merlin clambered up to his feet, shaking, his body drenched from the ocean waters he was about to hit.

'Mum?'

'Arthur Pendragon,' she said. Merlin squinted at her, when the familiar softness in her voice expanded and rolled darkly through the bark and dirt. 'That is the reason I have been sent to you. We heard your calls.'

He watched her carefully. 'You died. Back in Camelot and again in this life. You died when I was eight. I remember the day my aunt came and told me.'

'Hunith did die but that's not why I'm here.'

His glare hardened. 'Why do you look like her? Sound like her? What are you?'

'A denizen of the world you've been walking through. I am here to give you what you want.'

'And what do you think I want?'

'Life. You haven't passed through the Veil yet. You're stuck, just as you were the last time you were here. Once your body fails you, your soul will remain here until a time when you are-'

'Reincarnated?'

'Yes,' she nodded. Her flesh seemed human and physical enough but there was a transparency to her that glinted in and out of focus every few seconds that said otherwise. 'By remaining here, however, Arthur Pendragon remains alone.'

'He's not alone.'

'He may as well be without you, Dragonlord. You just saved his life, quite impossibly, but without a physical anchor in that world you won't be able to do the same again. That anchor is dying and we heard your calls.'

His body was dying. The attacks in the Labyrinth, the violence and exhaustion, had all increased. It made sense.

Merlin kept his face clear of any emotion. 'Since I'm not actually dead, what exactly will you do to give me life?'

'Not dead yet.'

'Not actually dead yet,' he corrected sourly.

The denizen, Hunith, whatever it was, smiled grimly. 'I will send your soul, your mind, back into your body. You will come out of your dying state naturally, safely, and have the rest of your years to live out as the gods intended. You can protect Arthur Pendragon just as you did before.'

'What do you get out of it?'

'Your return to the mortal world will give us an escape as well. We no longer have anchors as you do and leaving this place of limbo, void, whatever you choose to call it,' it paused with thought and something cruel flashed through its expression. 'Leaving it hasn't been an option. Your presence changes that. The power of a Dragonlord is enough to free us.'

'Who's we?'

'I'm sure you've noticed the others. Faces, voices, sounds in your Labyrinth, in the hollow streets,' she said. 'We've been trapped, not dead and not alive, some for thousands of years. Time is warped here, Emrys, and this place ruins our minds. I'm sure you can remember.'

Remember? He'd felt it, that he'd been in some places before but from a place of life, not limbo. If time was warped though maybe he hadn't. Maybe he just thought he had because he'd been there so many times before, the forest, the cliff, the Labyrinth. London. Everywhere. He pushed away the sickness that washed through his body and asked, 'Where would you escape to?'

'Death. Our release to the Beyond. Do you agree to the exchange? Your return to life for our release?'

'I don't know.'

'We have suffered as you have. Let us leave and we can lead you back to your body.'

The silence was infuriating. It wasn't natural but then none of this was. He was stuck in his own head, in this place between life and 'Beyond' and with what had happened so far any denizens here were far from trustworthy. He pinched and stretched out his options as it watched him, unblinking. Arthur needed him whether he wanted him or not. He couldn't stay here. The idea of waiting for any amount of time made his heart seize.

'Deal,' Merlin said.

(Hello again! I hope you enjoy reading this final part of the series :D There's a lot of psychological and emotional things (highs and lows) on the way, written to stay true to the characters as they've changed in the last two parts, and I'm looking forward to sharing them with you. Thank you for your comments/kudos, they're always appreciated and help me understand Merlin/Arthur/Mordred etc. from your perspectives which is really amazing.

As a side note, I have a handful of songs which match each chapter as I see them in my own head which I'll be adding at the end. Will sort out a clearer Spotify playlist ASAP but for now I hope it adds another dimension/atmosphere/layer of understanding to the story for you :)

Playlist for The Mortal World:

-ZVVL by CHVRCHES
-No One's Here To Sleep by Naughty Boy, Bastille
-Is There Somewhere by Halsey
-Kerosene Dreams by X Ambassadors
-The Beast by Johann Johansson
-Find you by Ruelle)