Chapter 8

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529645 Days Later

Dear Arthur,

Come back, I'm waiting.

Love,

Merlin


Arthur turned the page.


530739 Days Later

Dear Arthur,

When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again.

Love,

Merlin


Flip.


532535 Days Later

Dear Arthur,

WHERE ARE YOU????

Love,

Merlin


Another flip.


532580 Days Later

Dear Arthur,

I NEED YOU, COME BACK!

Love,

Merlin

The words spun through Arthurs mind. 'COME BACK!' 'I NEED YOU!' 'WHERE ARE YOU?' He'd read those words throughout Merlin's journals multiple times, he dreaded to think how many times Merlin had thought them. Quiet shuffling came from behind him, Arthur turned around and saw the warlock with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, hair dishevelled from sleep. "I see you found them," he hummed. Arthur wanted to say something, but after what he'd read, the right words weren't coming to mind. Gwen came strolling past Merlin and settled on the couch, she seemed to be nodding at him to speak his mind.

Arthur stammered, "do-do you still feel like this?"

"It's been better since you're here," Merlin gave him a soft smile, "the recent entries are happier."

"Did you ever try -you know- doing it again?" Arthur hesitated.

"Ending it? May 30th 2015. 538,000 Days Later. Your 1473th death Anniversary," Merlin looked down as though the day in itself was shameful. Arthur flipped through the pages of the book titled '2013-2015' just as he'd done with the other books and found the date Merlin had stated.


538000 Days Later

Dear Arthur,

I hate that song. A man at the train station was singing The Night We Met for coins and he had such an angelic voice. Every line reminded me of you, god Arthur, you wouldn't blame me for what I did.

Take me back to the night we met.

"Hey, come on, that's enough."

"What?"

And then I can tell myself what the hell I'm supposed to do.

"You've had your fun, my friend."

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