Merlin's magic (Oneshots) 1

Wired (part 2) Hope

(A.N.:// I chose an older picture I drew a while back. I still like how it turned out. Maybe I've used it again. I just thought it fits with the story)
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Time went on. Of course. So did Merlin.
He cannot pinpoint exactly when it happens. But after the fall and the death of magic, slowly, it build back up.
Merlin, who had lived for thousands, if not millions of years, hardly noticed. It happened slowly and gradually.
Until eventually, it was ever present once again.

Merlin noticed that something was strange, when a man, named Bruta united the kingdoms.
Kingdoms? Since when had it been kingdoms again?
The world had been a wasteland and Bruta had united it again.

Merlin shook of the thought. It was coincidence, was it not? Until he heard that a man, a sorcerer, named Cornelias Sigan was building a castle. Precisely, where Camelot had once resided.
Upon further inspection, Merlin realized, it was exactly the Camelot that had fallen oh so long ago.

In the blink of an eye, because time flies by faster, the older you get, Uther Pendragon was pronounced king of Camelot.
He should have inherited the kingdom. But a war, involving lots and lots of magic, forced him to take action.
Uther was as old as Arthur had been when Merlin met him, when he conquered Camelot and took back the throne that was rightfully his.

Another blink, and magic was once again forbidden. Dragons and Dragonlords were hunted once more. And Merlin knew, instinctively, that Arthur was born once again.

You may now ask: why did Merlin not interfere? Why did he sit back and watch?
Why wasn't he running after the Dragon's, after the once and future king?

The answer is simple. Merlin had never dared to hope to see Arthur ever again.
Now that the possibility was there, his own acceptance and grief stopped him from investigating.
He feared to get attached again. He feared to lose once more.

He had lived too long to return.
His goals had long stopped being his goals. His noble intentions had died with his last remaining friends. He did not belong here anymore. There was but one goal left for him. And that was death. He had been searching for his chance for years.

And, as time moved on, it eventually presented itself.
Merlin was careful not to change anything.
Call him selfish, but he was desperate. If he missed this chance, he would have to repeat the entire circle of life again. At this point, he could not deal with that.

So he let Morgana turn evil. He let her sacrifice Morgause at the veil.
He knew, what he had to do. For the first time in a million years, Merlin felt something akin to hope well up in his chest.

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It had been days, since the Dorocha had first attacked Camelot. Arthur and his men had ridden out to close the veil. Of course, Arthur had not told anyone but Merlin and Gaius of his plan.
His plan to sacrifice himself at the veil.

While Arthur knew, he was riding out to his death, he knew he had to survive as long as possible.
As did his men.
Why Merlin had insisted to come along, he did not know. Right now, he regretted letting him come with.
They had needed fire to avert the Dorocha and Arthur had volunteered to get fire wood.
Of course, Merlin came with.

Somewhere, something had gone wrong. And the Dorocha had attacked them once more.
The ran and hid in the ruins, where they had build up camp.
With no wood and no fire to protect themselves, they could only hope that the Dorocha would not find them.

They hid behind a wall. Adrenaline rising high, as they knew their death could be around the next corner. Arthur cursed himself for letting Merlin come with him.
On this quest, to collect firewood. Anywhere, really. But Merlin was always so persistent. Always so incredibly stubborn.