Beautiful ghosts

Beautiful remains

Merlin was sitting alone on the bank of the lake. There was only him and the cold, silent moon. The birds had long stopped singing in the forest. Even the lake was quiet, too. He felt empty. There was no energy left in his body. No place to go. No reason to stay. Only thousands of memories kept rolling inside his head.

He couldn't return to Camelot. Not without Arthur. He'd promised he would bring Arthur back, so, he would put his feet behind those heavy stone gates again only when Arthur would be back. Till then, he would need to find another home.

Home. There was no home for him. For the first time, he didn't need to hurry. It didn't matter if he went right or left. If he left or stayed.

Morgana woke up as if from a very long sleep. Her body was lighter than she'd remembered it to be. She had the slightest idea where she was or how she'd ended there. The last thing she remembered was her dying in Merlin's arms. Apparently, she didn't die. She felt no pain, either It was like it had never happened.

She kept going without a direction in her mind. She wondered if Arthur had died. It was already night and she was completely alone in the woods. A wolf howled in the night, his call echoing in the entire forest. She was a High Priestess. She wasn't going to get scared so easily.

A rabbit jumped from a bush. It studied the surroundings for a while then it jumped on, undisturbed. Another followed it.

Morgana approached them, but the two rabbits didn't seem to notice her. She smirked, thinking of the soup she was going to eat that night. A step closer. The rabbits kept playing around. Another step and another. She almost touched them and... she couldn't touch them. She tried again. And again. She was unable to grab anything as if her hands were made of thin air.

She checked her hands. They looked normal to her. But she was unable to touch anything. She could bump into trees and she wouldn't get hurt.

"Emrys," she let her range out. Her voice thundered in the forest, but the two rabbits were still undisturbed. She was sure he'd done something to her. That was the only explanation.

She continued to walk, hoping to find a solution. She must find Merlin. He was the only one who could do something. The problem was she had the slightest idea how to convince him. He hated her. Well, she hated him too. It was difficult to say who hated who more. Anyway, she could do nothing against him now.

"If only he'd failed to save Arthur." She thought. "But if he'd failed he would be furious. It isn't the best moment to meet him." She couldn't believe she hadn't figured out who he was.

As she thought things through she realized it had been so obvious. So obvious that it made her crazy and furious.

The stars twinkled in the sky, the only sparkle of light in the ocean of darkness. With every step she'd taken, Morgana felt her feet heavier. She realized she must have felt afraid and yet she couldn't hear her heartbeat. She pressed her right hand to the left side of her chest. Nothing. Her heart was cold and quiet. So very quiet. And she panicked.

She was exhausted when she finally managed to reach the bank of the lake. Merlin was still there, absent-minded and lost. Morgana sneaked closer to him, still unsure if he could see her. He didn't seem to.

"Merlin," she called him gently. No answer. Slowly she covered the distance between them. Closer and closer until she was next to him. "Merlin," she called again. "You must hear me...It can't be true. You hear me, don't you? But you pretend not to. You want to scare me, isn't it? It isn't funny, Merlin. I'm scared, Merlin." No answer came.

She remembered asking him to help her once. It seemed so long ago. He'd pretend he couldn't. She had only wanted him to encourage her. To tell her that everything would be alright even if that was a lie.

"I'm scared, Merlin. She insisted." The night was so beautiful. A nightingale sang close to that place. So beautifully, so sad. She wasn't ready to leave. She didn't want to leave. Not yet. Tears ran down her cheeks. "Merlin." She called him one last time, but his mind was far away.

The night passed and the sun rose over the lake, turning both the lake and the sky into a scarlet ocean of light. It brought hope and joy over the entire forest, tickled the dew from the leaves, and woke up the little creatures.

Morgana had stood all night next to Merlin. She'd tried everything to make him hear her, but it was in vain. She was sure she was dead, but she couldn't understand why she was stuck there, in that forest. Wasn't she supposed to cross a lake or follow some sort of light? Or go wherever dead souls go? But she had the slightest idea where she was supposed to go. She was tired. So very tired.

The morning came. Chilly and fresh. Carrying the regrets of a past day and the hopes of a future which none knew where it would lead. Daw shone in the sunlight like tiny diamonds. The warlock could feel the magic vibrating around him. Every inch of nature breathed with magic.

Merlin finally stood up. It had been a long night. The warlock had no plan in his mind. No home to hurry to. No warm place. No food waiting ready for him. No. He wouldn't return without Arthur.

The old castle was in front of him, its ruins challenging the sky. Merlin stepped on the old dusty floor. Once his friends had covered the same distance, in step with him. Fear and hope, both in their hearts. An immortal army had waited for them then.. But they'd made it. They'd won the battle. Recovered the castle. Built a new world.

There it was: the old stone table. Now empty and cold. There was no one to sit on its chairs. Only spiders and rats perturbed the motionless sight.

And no one would ever come back to sit there.

At this table, they'd sworn their eternal allegiance to the country, to their king. One by one, all those friends left him and those who still lived wouldn't sit there with him.

The chairs had never seemed so heavy. Lonely, he sat down while tears streamed down his face. Once, his soul was full of hope, of thoughts of a better world. Now, that world was dawning before him, but he was the only one left of those who'd fought along with him.

The round table would never be the same without its knights. One day the table would be no more. And the chairs would forget they had once been occupied by brave men. The place would forget all the words spoken. Not even the castle would stand tall in the sky.

Merlin lifted his head from the table. He didn't know how long he had slept. His lullaby had been the song of the wind. The grief in his soul had taken all the energy left inside him. And so, he'd fallen asleep. Alone and cold on an old, dusty round table.

He felt a presence. It didn't belong to the living world and yet it did. It had been brought by the night. The wind had been its companion.

"Who are you?" His words echoed in the empty chamber, but the presence said no word. It floated around the room. He felt it had stopped next to him. The Dragon Lord dragged a chair and invited the phantom to sit.

They were two at the empty table, but there was a deep silence between them. He didn't know who the phantom was, but it felt nice to have someone to share that silence with him.

The queen sat alone in the cold room. The throne next to hers had already been removed. It felt so strange not to have it next to her. To reach out for a hand that would never grab hers.

The spots at the round table were almost empty. The chair next to her was deserted, but she didn't have the strength to ask for it to be taken away, too. And so were those of her brother and Sir Gwain and those of so many of the brave knights of Camelot.