A Couple of Merlin Short Stories

They're Back Part 1: The Returned

          "I wonder what his name is?" Isabel thought aloud. She looked the boy in his eyes and asked slowly,

          "Do you have a name?" The boy shook his head, yawning slightly.

          "Well, shall we call him Arthur? It is a good name," Luther said, shrugging. Isabel smiled softly at her beloved, and said to the child,

          "Arthur. You're our little Arthur now." Arthur blinked slowly before his head dipped to Isabel's shoulder hiding the smile on his face. Before his eyes closed completely and he was swept into the world of dreams he murmured one simple word,

          "Merlin."

          Several countries away, almost a whole continent, an old man woke with a start from a wonderful dream, that maybe wasn't a dream at all. The boy Arthur had said his name. The king, King Arthur, his best friend was back. Arthur was back.

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         It had been several years since Merlin had dreamed of Arthur rising, seventeen to be exact. The young boy had matured and grown into a young man setting off for university. Merlin had kept an eye on him throughout his life through a sliver of crystal he had grabbed from the crystal cave before it had been destroyed.

          When modern-day humanity had crushed and ravaged that cave it had been a heavy blow to the already weakened warlocks heart. He had aged at least a hundred years from its destruction. Now, of course, he was once more in the body of a young man ready to go to university. Where you might ask, well the place Arthur Penn was attending of course. In fact, he was just about to head to the station to go to his new school.

          He had no clue whether he would pass at all, seeing as he hadn't gone to school in several centuries. Merlin had tried to keep up with maths and science at least. He didn't have to worry so much about history. He had lived through most of it and had written all his experiences in his journals. He couldn't remember everything, of course, sure he was immortal but that doesn't mean he has memory eternal. Even now the only way he remembered was through dreams and what he had written down in his files and journals. He barely remembered the faces of his closest friends in Camelot. Of course, he remembered their names but that was only because he didn't want to let them slip away, he wanted to remember them.

          He shook his head trying to rid his mind of such melancholy thoughts. Looking at the time he rushed to the front door of his little flat, before turning off the light and locking the door behind him. He hurried down the stairs to the lobby where he had almost made his escape before his neighbor, Katy, stopped him.

          "Hey, Emmitt! How are you today?" She walked towards the warlock with way too much cheer. He smiled with a grimace, itching to get to the tube, but not be rude either.

          "Hello Katy, I'm fine thanks, in a bit of a rush though . . ." He trailed off as the perky brunette before him smiled.

          "Well, that's okay, I'm sure I'll see you tonight yeah?" He forced another smile and nodded before rushing onto the busy sidewalk. Yeah, he thought, see you tonight,

          "Not in a thousand years . . . and I can wait that long too!" He muttered aloud to himself. He got his ticket and boarded the train, not bothering to put his duffel somewhere out of the way, and plopped down in a seat next to the door. He rode for several stops as more people climbed aboard and less got off. Soon he had to move his bag for other people.
   One of the reasons why he hated public transportation: it was always too crowded. He hated crowds, it made him feel as though someone was always watching him. When his stop came he practically jumped from the train.