Aaaaand we're back. It's been exactly two years since last I updated (oh god), January 19th. On that note, happy birthday to TimeyWimeyBadWolf, whose birthday coincides with these past yearly updates!

Here's the thing. I'm not going to upload any more chapters until I'm completely done all of them, to stop that fiasco that's been happening for a few years. ((Don't worry tho like I'm actually working on them like this will not take another year or more I REFUSE to let it get to that))

There's a miniature summary of the story thus far on the previous chapter, I believe.

And yes, though I've said the contrary on almost every chapter up to this point, if you want it to be slash, slash it up bro, I won't stop you. You do you.

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

The forest surrounding the field shook with every attack unleashed by warlock and dragon. The pale sky was lit up in vivid golds and violets and greens such that could never be found in the natural world, but none could see the silent battle happening between the two beings. A duel of the uneasy dead was not one for mortal eyes.

Merlin let out spell after spell, never having to utter a word. He noticed that he scarcely even needed to think; for the moment, he was simply a being made up of vague thoughts and memories, all held together by magic and anchored to the forest so he would not float away to Avalon.

He tried to ignore that part. He didn't like the idea of dancing so rudely about in death's shadow.

Besides, there was no time to ponder when an unpredictable and very angry dragon threw its entire being into its attacks with the sole goal of annihilating everything that he was and had ever been.

Small bursts of power never got anywhere; nothing was strong enough to penetrate either side. Eventually, it became two walls of sheer force pushing against one another, blood red against shining gold.

Deathbringer showed no signs of tiring, but Merlin felt himself fading, piece by piece, and he knew he couldn't keep this up forever.

Arthur took to spending long hours sitting with Gaius in the physician's chambers, helping around by putting books in order along the shelves or labelling potions. They never spoke much, but they offered silent support to each other where it was needed. Arthur figured that someone had to help the poor old man, after all.

As it were, Arthur found himself alone one day in the physician's chambers; Gaius had gone out on his rounds, and would not be back until at least mid-afternoon.

Well, mostly alone. He knew Gaius kept Merlin's body somewhere in the physician's chambers, and he knew something was off that prevented him from having a proper burial, but he tried not to think about that. Merlin would not want him to, he liked to tell himself. And the thought of his dead friend, just lying somewhere in the room—no, he would not think about that.

Arthur sighed, preparing himself to leave; there was nothing to do in that dreary little room, and Gwen kept telling him that the sunlight would do him good.

He was stopped by the faint glow coming from under a white sheet that covered a misshapen lump on one of the tables.

His immediate thought was not, as it once would have been, a suspicious act of sorcery. His first thought was Merlin.

And just as soon as the thought appeared, he banished it, for Merlin was dead, and he needed to accept it. The glowing was probably one of Gaius' spilled potions, or something. Maybe something was on fire.

That final thought was what spurred him to check, even as every other fiber of his being warned him against it.

He walked slowly towards the table, trying to deny the oddly human-like shape of the covered object. His fingers stilled as he reached for the corner. What am I doing? Even as the glowing grew brighter and he itched to unveil its source, did he want to know what was under the sheet?

Just a small peek, he assured himself in a voice that sounded a bit too much like his late manservant. Taking a steady breath and trying to power through his trepidation and calm his pounding heart, he lifted the corner of the cloth.

The sheet was replaced in an instant as his hands released it in shock and he gasped. He didn't know why he was surprised, really. He had known Merlin was in this room somewhere. He just never assumed he would end up finding him right there.

The glow was still a question, however. Cautiously, Arthur lifted the corner again, this time steeling himself for the image he knew he was about to see.

Merlin's body was completely intact, if a bit pale. It was the stillness that really bothered him; Merlin should never be still. He never was, as far as Arthur was concerned, the clumsy oaf. Except for now.

Before Arthur could think too much on the stillness of his friend, however, he noticed the source of the glow. Merlin's eyes were open just a crack, just enough to let the gold light out.

The magic.

No, that couldn't be. Merlin was dead. Dead people couldn't perform magic, could they?

Merlin was dead, wasn't he?

Arthur stared for a moment longer at Merlin's slack face. The small furry ears were still there, he noted with a grim smile. A reminder of a time when things were so much easier. So much brighter.

With a decisive breath through his nose, Arthur carefully folded the sheet back over Merlin's face and dragged over the nearest bench to sit heavily on the edge.

He really, really hoped Gaius had answers.

Morgana stood upon a high hill, scowling at the faint silhouette of towers and high walls that she could see over the jagged treetops before her.

"You stole something from me, Arthur," she murmured. The clouded white sky was reflected in her sharp, pale eyes.

An army of dark mercenaries marched behind her, varying weapons at the ready. The army wasn't as big as she'd wanted it, of course, but a couple thousand men and women was still enough brute force and distraction to allow her to carry out her real plan.

Morgana's mouth twisted into the smallest of cruel smiles.

"Now it's my turn to take something back."

Whoops that's it

(yes it was short but that's too bad this is all I have right now)

Let's recap the history of this story. Not the story itself, but its history.

I started writing this when I was 13 years old, and I had no idea what I was doing on the internet; I just wanted to entertain myself and others with a little story (I was also vaguely internally homophobic but now I'm gay and I've accepted my status it's all good there will be no more "no slash" warnings I promise lmao). The point is, I had no idea it would grow to this size. This is the longest thing I've ever written, and quite frankly it's terrifying. Would I write another fic of this length? I have no idea actually I'm uploading this first thing in the morning because I wanted to make sure I actually uploaded it so I'm not really awake right now.

Anyway so now I'm 17, in my final year of high school. It's been three and a half years since the beginning of this fic, which is quite frankly cruel and lazy of me, but I can't go change it now; all I can do is churn out the other chapters for future readers to enjoy all at once.

I'm not rewriting any of the old chapters because nah (except maybe to... remove some "no slash" warnings...). I did have to go back and reread some, though, for continuity's sake, and oh good lord that was a nightmare to read. In my opinion, knowing that I was once that person who wrote that. Why did I write this story? Who knows

My breakfast is cold I do this for you guys

And, as always,

Thanks for reading! :) And thanks for sticking with me this long, it really means a lot, you guys. o3o bye!