Britain

3,035 years since initial death
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Merlin's vision was shrouded in pitch darkness.

His eyes opened and he couldn't see. He felt trapped, unable to move his limbs in this tight prison. But all around him, he could hear the screams that resonated in his ears. There were terrible mixtures of frightened yelling and incoherent, muffled shouts.

Was he finally dead for good? This has never happened before, yet it didn't feel right.

Merlin desperately wiggled, feeling his hands rubbing a solid surface that embodied him. He pushed against the walls but it was all to no avail. Forming a fist, he continued to pummel against his surroundings until he felt his heart drop.

It was as if he was floating in the air, but then it all stopped. He fell within the void, then he landed against another surface in a loud and hurtful thud. But what surprised him the most was the sudden light that entered his vision. The light freed him, and he could move. Crawling for a moment before rising to his knee, he closed his eyes and groaned.

He placed a hand against his back until he felt a sudden 'pop'. It was incredibly painful and somewhat satisfying, and he couldn't help but let out a scream of his own. "Son of a fucking whore! Argh, my back!"

Upon opening his eyes and adjusting to the light, he froze. A hundred shocked faces stared back at him. By the looks of it, he was inside of a building that looked awfully familiar. Dozens of men, women and children faced him. When he looked behind him, a coffin laid on the floor, its lid wide open. Beside it was the wooden staff that must have been placed atop it before it fell.

Merlin carefully stood up, keeping his distance from the crowd. Could they have seen him return from the dead? He gave them quite the view when he burned to death and fell from the walls. Now they get to see him alive and well again, miraculously and without an explanation. He couldn't form any words to defend himself.

The doors in front suddenly burst open, and a man with curly ginger hair stepped forward. In his hands was his infamous blade, and the look on his face showed he was in a state of panic. All the screaming must have alerted him and caused him to spring into action. But standing incredibly still, he shouted only one word. "Merlinus!"

"Oh shit." Seeing Arthur finally snapped him back to reality as the weight of his actions reached him. They all witnessed his resurrection. There was no denying it.

A few people held crosses in their hands, one man even called him Satan. Merlin carefully considered his next move, there must be something he could say to get himself out of this situation. Perhaps he could play along with the wizard trope? But the longer he stood in silence, the worse everything became.

Finally, he winged it. "Ha, you fools! Did you really think I could perish in those flames? I am Merlin, the all-powerful, mighty wizard! I doused myself in matter resistant to fire, and I merely pretended to die!"

That didn't seem to convince anyone. Even Arthur was apparently smart enough to see through his lies. "What bloody, fucking nonsense is that?! You were scorched with hellfire, Merlinus!"

Merlin sighed, and he thought it over quickly. There was only one other solution. "Well, it was worth a try."

He immediately snatched his staff, turned and ran. Placing all of his energy into his forward momentum, he sprinted towards the back of the room. There's a reason this place looked familiar, it was their great hall. Several shouts and banter came from behind, and he could hear some footsteps follow him. There was no time to stop, he leaped atop a large round table and kept his pace rather than running around it. Up ahead was an opened window.

Leaping through the opening, he continued his escape. His cloak slightly slowed him down, but he was already used to it. Although now that he paid closer attention, he realized his apparel looked fresh. It wasn't burnt at all. His regeneration never fixed his clothing, so they must have dressed him for his own funeral.

"Merlinus, halt!" Arthur's voice reigned from behind, and upon looking back, his friend was still in pursuit.

All of this commotion attracted a ton of unwanted attention. Several other knights and soldiers noticed him, some of whom tried to get in his way and stop him from advancing. Many of them were people he recognized and considered friends, and it felt odd to finally be on their opposing end.

He maneuvered around most of them until one particular knight ahead unsheathed his sword. This knight stood taller than the rest, his elegant blonde hair rustling in the breeze. In his other hand was a metallic shield that he honorably earned in battle. Merlin always hated this guy, they never saw eye-to-eye, and frankly; he never trusted the man.

Arthur called out from behind, aimed at the proud knight. "Stop him, Lanselos!"

Merlin was forced to stop. There was nowhere to run to outmaneuver him. Furthermore, many other knights swarmed in from all sides. Arthur stood directly behind him.

"Don't get yourself killed twice now." Lanselos remarked, further agitating him.

"Quiet, Lancelot. This doesn't involve you." Merlin preferred to grant him an alternate name instead.

He tried to survey his surroundings and find any means to escape. What he needed was a horse, but everyone around him made that far more difficult. He looked back at Arthur, glaring into his eyes. At this very moment, they were no longer allies. They were enemies.

"Don't do this, Arthur."

"Yield, and surrender your staff. We won't harm you, we only wish to speak." Arthur's response didn't reassure him at all. This isn't what he wanted. None of this was meant to play out the way it already had.

Merlin frowned and lowered his head, noticing a large rock beneath his feet. He didn't want to surrender, but it seemed he had no other choice. It was that, or he fights his closest friends. Both options sounded disastrous. He had to make a decision, and he had to make it fast. So he gripped his staff tighter and turned to face the smug knight in front of his path.

He carefully set down his staff above the rock and raised both of his hands to surrender.

There were too many of them surrounding him. This was the only reasonable option. He kept his head up and looked to see who would be the first one to approach him. Just as he expected, Lancelot stepped forward.

Merlin turned his back towards him, positioning himself beside his fallen staff. He waited until the footsteps behind him were up close and personal, and he felt the knight's hands forcefully grab him.

"Never understood why you ever favored him, Rio." Lancelot spoke to Arthur, only fueling the fire deep within Merlin. "An outsider, a short-tempered liar, and now; a deserter. No doubt he was looking to fake his own death just to abandon us."

"I remember a time when we favored one another." Merlin spoke back, barely turning his head to look at the knight behind him. "Then I learned of who you took to bed, and I discovered where your loyalties lie."

Just as he said it, he felt Lancelot grip his neck to prevent him from spilling more information. If he didn't have to struggle against this chokehold, he'd be laughing instead. He was being shoved forward, but Merlin wasn't budging. When he finally decided to move his feet, it wasn't to walk in any direction.

Merlin stomped his left foot down hard slightly behind him. His heel impacted the bottom tip of his staff, slightly elevated above the ground. This caused his staff to hurl upwards at an angle, and Merlin took the opportunity to tilt his body forward and lower his head. His staff's blunt end slammed directly into Lancelot's head.

Once Merlin felt the grip around his neck loosen, he twisted back around and swiped his hands to catch his staff and continued to drive it down on the knight's face. Grabbing a hold of Lancelot's back, that's when Merlin took the upper hand and charged forward with his newfound human-shield.

Using Lancelot as a battering ram, he threw him at the nearest knight and immediately darted for the clear path ahead. His pace accelerated as he looked towards the stables in the distance. That's where he needed to go. With his substantial lead, he'll have no trouble taking any horse.

But when he turned around to see how close the knights had gotten, he couldn't help but notice Arthur was missing. He didn't let this deter him, and he whistled loudly for the horses to hear. One horse brown in color stepped forward, and he found his mount. Rather than running towards it, he turned to the side and continued to whistle, signaling it to follow along. The horse picked up the pace, and that's when he lunged himself at it and took full control.

It galloped across the hillfort at unmatched speeds. Rather than heading for the rear exit where all the other knights would be, Merlin headed for the front gates. Along the way, he spotted Lancelot back up on his feet hurling a rock towards him. Merlin finally laughed in his face, riding towards freedom.

His laugh however was short-lived. Upon reaching the front gates, Merlin barely had time to notice a second horse from the side gallop dangerously close to him. Atop it was none other than the king himself, with Excalibur in his hands.

Merlin desperately tried to keep his distance, but Arthur showed no signs of slowing down. He was in full pursuit, and Merlin contemplated hitting him with his staff. He had no problem hurting Lancelot, but Arthur?

He tried to ignore him and focus on finding a way to lose him. But when Arthur got closer, he heard his friend call out to him. "I don't want to hurt you, Merlin."

"Neither do I." He answered back, darting his horse to the left but cursing under his breath when he saw Arthur do the same.

"Then stop!"

As much as it pained him to do so, Merlin found himself obeying orders. He yanked his lead and made his horse come to a drastic stop, raising its hooves in the air. Arthur circled around him to slow down, his sword still drawn in his hands.

For a second, neither of them moved or said anything. Merlin found it hard to look at him, but he was forced to when he heard him speak. "Get off your horse, and stand still."

It took him a moment of hesitation before he did as he was told. Arthur followed along and stood in front of him. He wasn't done giving orders. "Toss your staff away, I will not have any more surprises."

Now unarmed, Merlin had no more tricks or plans. He lost the strength to fight on. Standing alone with his closest ally, he could see Cadbury far away in the distance. At least nobody would be interrupting them here.

"Speak, Merlin."

"I am not the man I have claimed to be." He didn't really know how else to begin explaining himself. "All this time, I've seen you as an ally, but our cause is not the same. I help fight your battles and I drink your mead, but my goals have been far beyond anybody's understanding."

"So you're a fraud," Arthur pointed his blade forward, "a traitor."

"I'm a phantom in search of a purpose."

Arthur paused, momentarily. He kept his sword raised. "That fire. I wish to know how you survived it."

"I didn't." Merlin wasn't ready to admit the truth behind it, but he still owed him some form of answer. "Though I do not understand how I continue to live. If you want to know how my hands endured the flames, it was a mineral I used called asbestos."

"I've had the honor to call you a friend for nearly thirty years now, and yet I still know nothing about you. I know not where you came, who you once were, and why you joined my side. But when I laid my eyes upon your scorched corpse and confirmed your death, I felt like I had died in your place instead."

Merlin lowered his head. He wanted to look away in guilt, but he forced himself to keep his vision fixed. "I only blame myself. I was meant to extinguish myself and survive alongside you, but I was distracted. I lost, and now you've all seen what I am capable of."

"Are you a god, Merlin?"

When he didn't respond immediately, Arthur continued. "You carry a hidden origin, you've acquired a legacy shrouded in mystery everywhere you go, you held fire in the palm of your hands and burned the Saxons without touching them. Christ, setting aside your resurrection, you still look identical to the way you did in Tintagel."

Rather than responding, Merlin reached for his hood. He concealed most of his face and he finally stepped towards his staff to pick it up. With his back turned, he spoke. "I am what you have always known me as."

He turned and gave a heartfelt smile. "A wizard."

"That tells me nothing." Arthur looked to be in disbelief, but his sword was already lowered.

"My time in Cadbury has come to an end, and sometimes, it's best to leave some mysteries to the imagination." He stood by his horse, but he wasn't ready to leave just yet.

"You're really going to leave everything behind?" Arthur slowly walked towards him. "All over some unanswered questions and because your death was exposed?"

Merlin nodded. "It's what I do. As much as I hate it, I can't stay here forever. Consider it a curse if you may."

"No one was going to harm you, Merlin. I only wanted the truth. You could have stayed and explained it, nobody wanted to lose you. I certainly know that I don't ever want to lose my dearest friend."

"The only fate worse than losing a friend, is to have lived a life without one at all. I'm glad to have met you, Arthur."

Merlin finally mounted his horse. All of Britannia, its surrounding seas and the vast European nations awaited him and his endless journeys. But an itchy feeling in his guts stopped him from departing. He shared a saddened look with his brother.

Arthur on the other hand looked away. "I'm glad to have met you too, stranger."

A quiet curse escaped Merlin's lips. He couldn't leave like this. His only remaining friend turned and was about to depart the scene when Merlin made his decision. He leapt from his horse and walked towards him before the confrontation could end. Just as Arthur looked back at him, Merlin's hands stretched out and wrapped around his shoulders.

He extended the hug and noticed Arthur never resisted. If Merlin was to leave and never return, it had to end on a positive note. He could never allow himself to destroy his closest friend's trust. Therefore, once their hug concluded and he stepped back towards his horse, he cleared his throat.

As they shared eye-contact, Merlin said everything he's been wanting to admit for centuries.

"I am Maalik Seti of the Fourth Egyptian Dynasty. I am three-thousand years of age and my immortal life shows no signs of ever ending. I have travelled across the world in search of a purpose and a cure to kill the curse that has befallen me. I have lived and witnessed the tides of history alter as nations turn to war, empires rise and fall, and humanity crumbles underneath its own sins. I've killed millions and took sides in pursuit of eternal rest and salvation, and this was no different. I live to spectate this world and understand how we evolve over time. I'm not one who values attention, and I certainly don't wish to be remembered as who I am now. Rather, I aim to be remembered by who I once was. It's why I change my identity everywhere I go, and at this very moment, I am ready to step forward and embark on a new life as I leave this legacy behind."

"Wherever fate is destined to take me, I will undergo a new alias and watch as humanity evolves. I will witness a new era in warfare as weapons beyond our wildest dreams become a reality. I'll return in a future when Camelot's walls have either transcended our capabilities and towers towards the heavens above, or when time and nature takes their toll and reduces our memories into nothingness. That is the curse I am destined to withhold, Arthur. You are the only man in history I trust enough to know this truth about me."

All this time, Arthur never uttered a word. He was motionless. His eyes looked at him, but deep inside, Merlin couldn't tell if anything he said had been acknowledged. It was to be expected. Who would even believe any of what he has said? But just in case his friend believed it, Merlin made his final farewell.

"I am Merlin no longer. I'm leaving his legacy in your hands now, Arthur. Let this world remember Maalik as a proud father who lived and protected his family in the ancient dunes of Kemet. As for Merlin, let them remember him as a wizard of legendary power that fought alongside the greatest king he's ever known and the proudest band of knights history will ever see. And for whoever I may become in the future, I only pray that I don't disappoint the ones who came before me. I just hope I'm forgiven for whatever I may do in my life. But until we meet again in this realm or the next, I bid you farewell, Arthur."

Atop his horse once more, Merlin gave a heartfelt smile and raised a hand to signal his departure. Relief overwhelmed him when Arthur made the same gesture back.

And so, Merlin journeyed far from Somerset. A thousand more adventures awaited him in other parts of Britain, and a million more in other parts of the world. Though he tried to fight against the Saxon invasions, his efforts were powerless against the empire, and Britain fell under Saxon control a few hundred years later. The Saxons would rename the country to England.

Merlin never saw Arthur again, and would only hear of him in 537 AD when Riothamus was killed in battle at Camlann.

Oftentimes, the lion returned to stalk Merlin. He tried not to fall under its control, but it always followed him everywhere. Any attempts at killing it were futile. It shrugged off everything.

He continued his work on finding a cure for his immortality, though nothing would suffice. After using asbestos again for a magical fire stunt, he contracted lung cancer by mishandling the mineral and died. If anything, he was thankful his regeneration kicked in afterwards, as it would have been humiliating should his death be permanent.

If he was committed to ending his curse, he'd need to turn his attention elsewhere. There was a whole world out there for him to explore, and his mind wandered towards a nation that was rising in popularity. He followed a silk road across endless valleys and desolate ranges.

Carrying his Arthurian staff from Camelot, he arrived at the border of Zhongguo, or as it would later be known, China.

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Historical Notes:

Many figures in the legend of King Arthur are brought into legitimacy. Characters such as Lancelot and Guinevere are real people who lived during these times, though their names would have been different. Even Merlin is viewed as a real historical figure in some cases, especially when his actions have had an impact on the future and are mentioned in historical records by several cultures.

Asbestos is a type of silicate mineral that's extremely resistant to fire. Evidence shows this material has been used even since the Stone Age, being used to harden ceramic pots. It was also used over the years in architecture to protect structures from fire. Not many people ever used it on themselves however, because of its highly toxic and lethal fibers. Inhaling this mineral can lead to extreme cases of mesothelioma, asbestosis (Inflammation and scarring of the lungs) and even lung cancer.  

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