They say that souls never truly die, that everyone has a second chance. Not me. I am the sorcerer Merlin. I have waited a millennium for King Arthur to return to his rightful place on the throne.
The land is no longer myth, and magic has all but faded from the world. The kingdom of Albion is split once more into different countries, but their fates are still in peril. I am no longer young. My friends are all dead. I live for a promise to be fulfilled - the Great Dragon's promise of Arthur's return. Each conflict, each plague, I think 'this is it, he is coming,' but with the next one, I know that that couldn't have possibly called him back. Over the years I have searched tirelessly for my friends and my enemies: for beautiful, wicked Morgana, kindhearted Guinevere, rambunctious Gwaine, and my first tutor, Gaius. I haven't found them. I will know them when I see them, I'm sure of it. Their faces are forever carved into my mind.
Magic is folklore, replaced by machines. Seamstresses are cast aside for small boxes that sit on tables. Knights no longer use swords and spears, favoring small projectiles that shoot faster than any arrow and do more damage than naught but Uther or his children could. I am drifting, ever present and yet the lives of mortals pass by in a flash. I will never love again, not until my immortal calling has been fulfilled. I loved my friends, and they died. I watched Arthur, so young, be pulled from the world. I sat by his wife's bedside in her 80th year of life, fading away. Until I see them again, I will continue drifting.
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The Future of Camelot
FanfictionMerlin waited for almost a thousand years for Arthur. One day, he sees two old faces from the past. But when will Arthur return? Completely compliant. Eventual Mergana.
