Here it is, the final chapter. I just want to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favoritted this story. Your support means so much and every time I got an email with an alert it just made me smile and determained to finish this. Thank you so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so very very very much for your support! I hope you enjoy the final chapter. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

Chapter 25: The Ruins Fall

Keep your shield before you, and your head
held high, my friend. I'll bring my sword
to join you when the Prdywen sails
again. The Prdywen sails again.
-The Prdywen Sails Again by Heather Dale

The old man looked back down at the sword in his hands as the memory faded. He had gone and found the sword, still lying on the roof where it had done its fated deed, the blood of the dead King still staining it's blade.

The ruins had still been alive then, the people going to and fro removing the bodies, rebuilding the town. The war had been won, but at a terrible price. More then half of the population lay dead, and the destruction would take years to rebuild. Many would not remain the year, choosing instead to leave the ruined kingdom behind.

He had been the first to go, having hid the armor and sword safely. He had taken his brother's body to the Lake of Avalon and set it afloat. The people of Camelot had watched him leave, but none had moved to stop him. They knew it was over and had decided to move on, to mourn in private.

The tears fell from the old man's eyes as he lay the sword down on the bed, placing it gently in the center. He had never forgotten Camelot, though he had never returned after the final battle. Nothing had remained for him there. His friends, his brothers, his family, they were all gone. Victims of the war that had split destiny in two.

But now he had returned for the last time. He lived for many years-far to many years-and now it was coming to an end. His strength was failing him and he had felt called to return once more to the place that he had always thought of as home.

The old man sank into the chair that lay beside the bed and looked at the sword. Light fell across it as the morning sun began to rise. A small smile spread across the old man's face as he looked up and let the light fall across him, warming his face. Then he looked back down and smiled at the sword.

With a flash of gold, the ruins of Camelot fell.