Merlin understands his destiny now.
It is not the destiny of one who would save the world. It is not the destiny of one who will end the darkness or bring about enlightenment.
He is not even destined to help unite Albion.
He has been lied to—by those who knew his fate and those who honestly thought they were telling him the truth. He is too burdened, too heavy with dread and despair to find any anger. He has been told for years that he is to help Arthur unite Albion, to restore magic and bring about a great new age.
It is all a lie.
But he knows the truth now. The prophecy that Finna entrusted to him as finally divulged his true destiny. It might not seem like much to those burdened with the fate of kingdoms or great magical prowess or anything like that, but Merlin knows that it is the most horrible destiny anyone could be bestowed.
His destiny is to watch the one he loves die.
And he dares anyone who has ever loved another to think of a destiny more horrendous than that.