A/N: Arthur and Alternate Realities 'verse. First section set early enough that he's still fairly cheerful about the whole thing but late enough that he's started to get genre savvy.

Twenty-fifth life. Camelot.

It would be nice, Arthur thought, to be able to walk into a cave that was just a cave. No monsters, no magic crystals, no interesting inhabitants, no long lost treasures. Just a cave.

Failing that, it would have been nice to have an exit out of this one. One that wasn't blocked by a large pile of recently fallen rocks, that was.

If Merlin were here, it wouldn't be a problem. In most realities, he would be able to just wave a hand and get rid of the rocks or teleport them out. Even in the realities where he fulfilled a more seer like function, he could have at least provided Arthur with a little moral support by pointing out that they could hardly die trapped in a cave if Arthur was supposed to die at Camlann.

Or at least, Arthur didn't think this was Camlann. He'd been unable to locate the place in this reality, and he couldn't read the words engraved on the wall since they were in some sort of foreign language. For all he knew this was Camlann.

He really wished Merlin was here.

But Merlin wasn't here. Not as an old man, not as a peer, not as a frighteningly powerful child. Arthur hadn't caught a single glimpse of him this time around, and he was getting worried. He hadn't seen any magic either, and he'd realized that Merlin without magic didn't quite make sense somehow. If this was a world without magic, it was probably a world without Merlin.

A world without Merlin bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Merlin was the closest thing he had to a constant in this insane stream of existence. He didn't see this life ending well.

He could, unfortunately, see this life ending, quite possibly sooner rather than later.

When in doubt, move. Sitting there whining wouldn't fix anything.

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the stab of pain that came when he accidentally put too much weight on his left ankle.

Naturally, if he was trapped alone in creepy cave, he had to be injured. Because what fun would it be otherwise?

He was complaining again. Where was his sense of adventure?

Probably buried three lives ago in that maze that had killed half his knights.

Keep going. He had to keep going. At least there was light. There were some holes in the rocks, just not big ones.

He had initially thought it was a treasure hoard of some sort. Further exploration determined that while there was certainly plenty of treasure, this was also a tomb.

The back of his brain was busy drawing comparisons to the Cornelius Sigan incidents - some variation had happened on four worlds so far - and he really didn't need that right now, thank you very much.

There were plenty of other tombs this could be. An ancient king's, a successful robber's, a priestess's, Merlin's -

Yeah, that last thought wasn't any better. In fact, he'd prefer Sigan. It had been a while since he'd punched the man.

The coffin was decorated but not in a way that made it obvious who was inside. Maybe the runes said something, but he couldn't read them.

On top of it, in a place of honor, was a lamp. At least, he presumed that was what it was. It was foreign looking and ornate and not at all practical. A remnant of wealthier times.

Wealthier times. He froze. Oh, no. There was no way this was King Constans' tomb. King Constans, who had built the largest empire Albion had ever known with blood and something dark and forbidden history wouldn't speak of. King Constans, who had made his capital fat with wealth and brought a certain tyrannical peace to the land.

King Constans, who had died and left a fractured, feuding land behind when he invoked the wrath of . . . someone. History wasn't very clear on that. In fact, most records seemed to hint that it was more the wrath of something.

There wasn't magic here, but there were monsters.

He'd been buried with an artifact that had apparently granted him both his power and his doom, and the location had been deliberately forgotten.

Who was he kidding? Of course this was King Constans' tomb. Of course it was. In fact - yep, over there in that corner. That was definitely a crown.

And that lamp wasn't a lamp, was it? Or not just a lamp.

He could, he supposed, go sit by the entrance and wait for rescue. Then he could leave and quietly have the entrance sealed.

Something forbidden.

Something like magic?

It was stupid, but, he reasoned, if he didn't pick it up intentionally, the ceiling would collapse and force him to dive onto it or something. Why not spare himself the falling rocks and just pick it up already?

He limped over to it before he could dissect that logic too much.

Besides, he had a good feeling about this. He couldn't explain it, but it didn't feel like Sigan or any of the other times he'd pushed forward despite the warning signs. This felt . . . right. Safe.

Like gold and blue and a universal constant.

He picked up the lamp and opened the top.

Gold smoke billowed forth and slowly formed itself into a shape. A shape with very familiar blue eyes.

"Merlin."

The figure froze mid bow. "That is a name I haven't heard in a very long time. Although to be fair," he said as he straightened, "I haven't heard any name for a rather long time. What year is it?"

"Er, 1091."

He stiffened. "You're joking."

"No."

"I've been in there for three hundred years?"

Arthur winced. "Is this King Constans' tomb?"

Merlin glanced around. "Don't know. I was already in the lamp. Let me check these runes . . . Yes. It appears it is."

"Then technically you were in there for three hundred and four years." He hesitated. "You weren't awake for all of that, were you?"

He nodded glumly before straightening eagerly. "But I'm out now, and you look young and healthy, so this should work out well!"

"Er, pardon?"

"What? Oh, right. Got to explain the rules. You don't know the rules."

"Is this going to involve three wishes?" Because he'd heard stories about genies in other worlds, and this was definitely reminding him of one of them.

"Oh, no. That's genies. I'm . . . special. The good news is, you still get wishes. The better news is, you get infinite wishes! I'll use my magic for you until you die, and then you can pass the lamp on to a nice successor - preferably sane, but I'm not picky - and it starts all over again."

A horrible suspicion crept into Arthur's mind. "When you say until I die, do you mean that you'll be following me around for the rest of my life, or do you mean that the wishes will eventually cost me my life?"

"The first one," he reassured him. "Unless you dismiss me. Then I go back into the lamp. But there won't be any call for that, trust me. I'm very useful. I also talk a lot right after I get called from the lamp, because I haven't had anyone to talk to in years, but if I get annoying, you can just tell me to stop."

"I'm not putting you back in the lamp," Arthur reassured him. "What happens if it gets stolen?"

"Assuming I'm not in it?" He shrugged. "You buy another one to stick me in when the time comes."

"Right." Merlin was here. Merlin was here, and that was good, because he could see his friend in every bubbling, eager word and stupidly wide smile, but it was also doing strange things to his chest to see that desperate edge to everything he did and to know why it was there. It was doing strange things to his stomach too, to realize just what he'd been handed here.

Merlin had said he wasn't a genie, and there were differences, so fine, but there were similarities too, and that was making him nervous. Infinite wishes equaled Merlin using magic just like always, but it also meant he had far more control than ever before. He got the final call over what was done. He was in control of the magic. He was in control of Merlin because last time he checked, genies didn't have a choice about what orders they obeyed.

That . . . was not a pleasant thought. At all. Especially considering what some of his previous commanders might have had him do.

King Constans built an empire on blood and something horrible history wouldn't name.

Preferably sane, but I'm not picky.

"Do I have to phrase it any particular way?"

"Oh, no," he said cheerfully. "Any order will do."

And that was even worse because he was a king and orders fell like rain from his lips and conversation was full of them, wasn't it? Shut up, stop that, stop being such an idiot, go away. Things he rarely meant anything by and that he'd always trusted Merlin to know when to disobey.

Pass the pitcher, don't tell me that, wipe that stupid grin off your face. So many orders, most of them minor and no trouble anyways, but somehow they all seemed different when the person receiving them didn't have a choice.

So he phrased the next bit carefully. "I'm Arthur, by the way. King of Camelot. I got separated from my men and a rock slide trapped me in this cave. I don't suppose you could get us out of here?" A question, not an order. He didn't know if Merlin appreciated the gesture or not, but Merlin was grinning as he snapped his fingers and they appeared in the midst of panicking knights.

Arthur began the task of calming them down. Merlin stared up at the sky and drank it in like a man descending on water after being lost in the desert for days.

Or, in this case, three hundred and four years.

"Brownies." Arthur tossed the report down onto his desk. "Nuckelavees. Gwyllgis. Faeries dogs. A Bean Nighe. Elves. Unicorns. Dragons. Wyverns, boggarts - Am I forgetting anything?"

"Will-o'-the-wisps?"

"Yes, thank you." He frowned. "Speaking of which, why is your pocket glowing?"

Merlin sheepishly pulled one out of his pocket. "Her light's flickering, see?"

Arthur resisted the urge to bang his head on his desk. "And I care about this, why?"

Merlin's hands curled protectively around it. His eyes gained a slightly pleading look. "The others kicked her out."

"You want to keep it, don't you." It was too flat to be a question.

"Please? She was lonely."

"It's not a person, Merlin, it doesn't have feelings!"

Oh, look. He had a new entry for his "Top Ten Stupid Things I Really Wish I Hadn't Said" list. The expression on Merlin's face might even earn it in the coveted number one spot.

"That was a comment on will-o'-the-wisps specifically, not beings with magic in general. And yes, you can keep it, though it's not like you really need my permission."

Merlin perked up considerably. "Her," he corrected. "I'm naming her Morgana because she keeps switching between light and dark."

Arthur choked. "That's nice," he managed in a slightly strangled voice. "And that adds Cunning Folk to our list, thank you for the reminder. My point is, Merlin, two years ago most people hadn't even heard of these things, and now they're everywhere! Where are they all coming from?"

"Ah. Er. Well, um, you see - "

Two years ago. Two years ago. "Merlin!"

He flinched. "Yes?"

He rubbed at his growing headache. "I released you two years ago."

"Yeesss . . . "

"This is your fault, isn't it."

"Maybe?"

"There are faerie dogs killing people, Merlin!"

"And unicorns saving lives! You don't get to pick and choose. It's not something I can help, anyway. I told you I wasn't a genie. I'm Magic, Arthur. Capital 'M'. Well, a shard of it. When I come out to play, everything else does too."

Arthur closed his eyes. "But they're hurting people."

"Some of them," he admitted quietly. "I can't - I can't stop them, Arthur. Not and defend the kingdom, too. But they'll save more than they hurt as long as - " He cut himself off.

"As long as what?"

He was quiet for a long time. "During Constans time," he said slowly, "a lot of people died. From the magic, I mean. And there weren't any unicorns. It got worse as time went on. A lot worse." He swallowed. "It has a lot to do with - with how I'm used. As long as you don't make me do anything bad, it'll be okay."

A horrible feeling twisted in his chest. "Then why are some hurting people now?"

"Well, I'm hurting people, aren't I? Not very nice people, normally, but to defend you or the kingdom. You'll notice most of the people getting hurt are getting served a faerie sort of justice. Not all. I make mistakes. But - most. For now." He rocked uncomfortably. Morgana blinked and floated closer to him in what Arthur could swear was concern.

"What exactly happened with Constans?"

"Is that an order?" Merlin's voice came out in a raspy croak.

Arthur hesitated. He needed to know more.

But not yet.

"No."

Merlin nodded. "It was bad," he offered. "Really bad."

"I know." He hesitated. "Any particular reason you didn't mention any of this before?"

Merlin winced. "Some people throw me back in the lamp when they figure it out."

Arthur really, really hated that lamp. "I won't," he promised.

Merlin smiled. "I know."

There had been an army bearing down on Camelot.

Had been.

Without Merlin, they would have lost for sure. With Merlin, they could have had a one man army, but Arthur instead sent out knights and archers, infantry and dragonriders and Cunning Folk. Merlin fought too, but he didn't fight alone. This way, hopefully, they could avoid most of the magical backlash.

He could still see redcaps down among the corpses though.

Merlin sat beside him, head between his knees, looking green. Arthur sat beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

Merlin glanced up sharply. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine." It was just a scratch.

Merlin raised a hand. The cut healed over.

"You were down in the healers' tents for hours. Give it a rest."

"Every little bit helps," he mumbled.

Arthur nodded and looked out over the field. "Merlin?"

"Mmm?"

"What happened to Constans?"

Merlin was quiet for a long moment. Morgana zipped out of his pocket and bobbed in front of him. He started at her blinking light instead of at Arthur. "He made me kill for him. He made me hurt people too. Not kill them, always. Just hurt them."

"And the magic lashed back."

"Yes. It went dark." He laughed a little, if you could call it a laugh. "Even went a bit mad after a while."

You or it? Or was there even a difference?

"What happened to Constans?"

Merlin closed his eyes. "I have to obey orders. I have to. It's not that it hurts me if I don't, I literally have no choice."

"I know," he said hastily. "I'm not blaming you for any of this."

"I have to obey orders," he repeated. "But you have to give them first."

He felt cold. "Merlin?"

"It took me a while to figure it out. He ordered me to defend him if someone attacked him. But I'm not someone, am I? I'm Magic. I'm the personification of a force. I'm a tool, nothing else."

"That's not true," Arthur growled.

Merlin shrugged like he didn't believe him. "He believed it. He said it. That's what matters."

Arthur was still trying to sort through it all. "So - "

"You have to give the orders first," he repeated. "He never ordered me not to kill him."

"That's why no one claimed the lamp afterwards. They were afraid you would turn on them."

Merlin shuddered. "Yes."

"And you went back into the lamp when he died. You knew that would happen. And you did it anyway."

"It wasn't planned. I could have . . . hidden it, if it were. He just - I couldn't - I didn't know what else to do."

Arthur could only imagine what had pushed Merlin over the edge, and he didn't really want to. Merlin was still shaking. "C'mon. Let's get somewhere warmer. It's freezing out here." He offered him a hand up.

Merlin took it warily. "Not the first order I was expecting after that little story."

Arthur snapped his fingers. "Right. Merlin."

"Yes?"

"If you ever decide to kill me, make it look like an accident. That's an order."

Merlin's mouth fell open.

"Problem?"

"You," he said, "are the strangest master I've ever had."

"I'm flattered. Any idea where Guinevere's gotten off to?"

"You're slumming it here, and you know it. She can't get away with doing this to you."

"I think you'll find she has. Besides, it's not so bad."

"Not so bad? Have you been paying any attention at all to what's going on in the other r- "

"Don't say the word!"

"Have you been paying attention to what's going on here? The only reason I don't kill most of your masters right off the bat is because then you'd go right back into the lamp."

"And because you're not allowed."

"For you, I'd make an exception."

"Ha, ha. Sure."

"I mean it. You're worth it."

"Don't. It's not worth the cost. Especially not with her in charge."

"I can handle anything she can throw at me."

"That's what I said."

"Look, I can't take him early, but I can take him painfully if you like."

"Who?"

"Arthur, of course."

"No! Don't. He's a friend."

"Really."

"He let me keep Morgana."

"He let you keep one of Destiny's favorite pawns as a pet?"

"No, I named the wisp Morgana."

She stared at the bright, hopeful smile on his face. "Never lose that."

"Lose what?"

"That look. Like the whole world is wonderful." She sighed. "I have to go."

"I love you."

" . . . That's an extraordinarily odd statement. But I love you too, brother."

Arthur was just close enough to hear the tail end of that statement right before she vanished.

"You've got a sister?"

"Two. And a brother."

"What are their names?"

"Time, Destiny, and Death. That was Death. She's my favorite."

"Taken out of context, that would sound extremely creepy. Why's she your favorite?"

"She's the only one that hasn't tried to kill me."

Silence.

"Do you think everyone's families are as messed up as ours or is it just us?"

"Gawain did threaten to kill one of his brothers."

"Yes, but that was Agravaine. Everyone wants to kill him."

"Right, so what's the problem? Assassins? Diplomats need some persuading? Spies need misdirecting?"

"It's a ball, Merlin. A party. You're supposed to have fun at it."

"I know the function of a party, I just don't know my function at the party. Am I the entertainment? The bodyguard?"

"A guest."

"Undercover, got it. What are my orders?"

"It. Is. A. Party. I'm going to dance with my queen. You are going to do whatever you like, so long as it's fun."

"Fun."

"Yes."

"That's not very functional."

"You're a person, Merlin, not a shovel. You don't always have to have utility."

Merlin stared at him like this was an entirely novel concept.

Arthur thought uncharitable thoughts about previous owners of the lamp.

He has to stop himself from saying, "Go. Dance. Eat. Do," because that would be an order and thus counterproductive. Instead he rolled his eyes to hide the fury behind them and dragged Merlin over to the food table. If there was one way to get to Merlin, it was food. He didn't need it, but he used to steal it constantly until Arthur noticed and started making sure he didn't have to.

He grinned when he saw Merlin's eyes light up. Food first. Maybe the rest would come later.

It was generally known that Arthur had a bodyguard with him at nearly all times that had a way with magic. That was all that was generally known.

It was also generally known that Arthur was an excellent warrior. It was not generally known that he'd had several lifetimes to get that way.

Arthur got three of the assassins by moving quickly. One of the remaining seven managed to knock him to the ground. A boot crashed into his ribs.

That was when Merlin showed up.

"This," he said calmly, "is why I hate peace talks." He snapped his fingers.

One by one, the assassins began to transform into smoke.

The last one backed away. "Why?" he croaked.

"Because most people don't put me on bodyguard duty by saying, 'If you're not too busy, protect me from everyone but yourself."

The last assassin disappeared.

Arthur pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the pain in his ribs.

"I still can't believe you phrased it that way, by the way."

"You could have been dealing with a bigger threat to the kingdom. I didn't want to interrupt."

"And the other bit?"

"If it ever gets to the point where you'd rather risk another three hundred years in the lamp rather than obey my orders, I think I'll probably need to be taken down."

Merlin gave him a look he couldn't quite interpret, but the pain in his ribs vanished, so he figured he probably wasn't mad.

Camlann. It was always Camlann.

He couldn't breathe properly. Something sharp and painful kept stabbing a jagged rhythm in his ribs.

At least the ground was soft. Nice slick mud that felt warm against his neck. Much better than last time. Last time there had been rocks stabbing into him and freezing cold rain. This was much better.

Morgana lay in a sad, squished ball beside him, light permanently gone. The other Morgana was probably lying dead somewhere around here too for that matter. Poor Morgana.

"Arthur? Arthur, stay with me!"

Merlin. Merlin was here. That was nice.

"Arthur, you have to order me to heal you. You told me not to use magic today until you told me to, so you have to tell me. Come on, Arthur, please!"

"Merlin?"

"Please, don't take him. Please, just a little more time, I can save him, please, sister, please - "

Please. Please. Please. Ple-

Merlin stared dully at the ground. Arthur was dead. The pitiful ball that had once been Morgana lay crumpled beside him.

His sister knelt beside him. It was strange to see her black dress smeared with mud.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he said dully.

"I'm still sorry."

"If he hadn't told me not to use magic - "

"He was trying to protect you. You saw what happened to the last person to use magic in these hills."

Yes. He had. So had Death. "Why am I still here? Why not the lamp?"

Death looked away.

"Am I dead?" he asked with mild interest.

"Nooo . . . "

"But he's dead."

" . . . Mostly."

"Death," he warned. He struggled to bat down the wild hope surging in his chest.

"I made a deal with Destiny," she said in a rush. "He's dead. Mostly. But he's coming back."

Merlin sat back, staring blankly. "Back. You never let anyone come back."

"Don't remind me," she grumbled. "But you'll be more or less free until he does."

He had a few long term orders. Protect the kingdom. Protect the queen. Other than that, he really was free, wasn't he?

The price was too high. He gripped Arthur's cold wrist tightly. "When?"

"That's for Destiny to decide."

He nodded. "Alright then. I'll make sure the kingdom's waiting for him." He stood and offered Death a gentlemanly hand up. "In the meantime, he'll need a place to rest. I'll take him to Avalon." He wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you."

Death stiffened, startled. "Only you," she mumbled, but she hugged him back. "Only you."

Arthur's lost track. England.

Arthur woke up on an island. Apparently he'd be rising directly from the grave this time around. Time to go see what England looked like.

He got up and moved forward out of habit more than interest. Instinct still commanded him to act despite the weariness that had settled deep in his bones.

How old was he now? He could count the years in thousands. Thousands and thousands. Too long for any mortal prince to live.

But the habits of a lifetime that long were nearly impossible to break, so he moved forward.

Which life had this been? He didn't recognize the island, but the years could have changed it. His armor was good but not notable, and the sword could be any of a dozen variations of Excalibur.

There was a boat waiting for him on the shore. That was good. He didn't much fancy a swim in this armor, and he doubted he could get out of it alone.

It wasn't magical. He had to row to get it to move. He didn't mind. It was easier not to think that way, just to glide across the unnaturally silent water with a quiet burn in his muscles as they became accustomed to working again.

The boat bumped into the opposing shore. Dead leaves softened by rain carpeted the start of a low rise to a hill.

It was quiet. Dead.

Oh, this was going to be a bad one. He could feel it already.

"Arthur?"

He spun. His hand didn't go to his sword. He knew that voice far too well.

Merlin had materialized on the bank behind him. His eyes were wide. "You're back."

"Mostly." He didn't recognize Merlin's clothes, but that meant nothing. He would have been surprised if he had. "How long has it been?"

"Three thousand and four years and three hundred and four days."

Arthur blinked at him. That was jogging a memory. A lamp? Was this the genie reality? "Destiny has a weird sense of humor."

"Yeah, she does." Merlin seemed kind of dazed.

She? Genie reality was looking likely.

Arthur waved a hand vaguely. No matter how many times he did this, it was still awkward. "So what have I missed?"

"Oh!" Merlin straightened like he a soldier about to deliver a report. "I successfully protected the queen until she died of natural causes at the age of ninety-seven."

Ninety-seven. In a cutthroat world of warlords of plagues, ninety-seven. That was impressive.

"And I've protected Camelot. Basically. I mean, it's been attacked more than a few times, and sometimes people died, but I've kept the magic under control, and it's still standing, so - "

"It what?"

"It's still standing?"

He stared at him. "That's a first. Well done. Why have I been called back then?"

"Camelot's still standing."

"Yes?"

" . . . It's the only place that still is."

"Please tell me Camelot's still standing in spite of that and not because of that."

"What? Oh! No, I wouldn't - There were aliens. We were the only ones that managed to hold them off, but they've been coming back on raids, and we really need your mind for strategy."

"Aliens."

"Right, sorry, you wouldn't know what those are - "

"As in beings from outer space?"

"Yes. Wait. How did you know that?" He frowned. "And what did you mean when you said earlier that this was a first?"

Why not? It would let him use information and skills he'd otherwise have to hide, and it would explain why he was still a little fuzzy on exactly what had gone on in their past life.

"It's a long story. Is there a better place to tell it?"

It was good to be back in Camelot again, no matter how much it had changed. It brought back memories. A cave, a party, a hallway full of assassins . . . Common themes, but now he had the details sketched in.

"That explains a lot, actually," Merlin said slowly.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Really? Like what?"

"Like why you're such a big shard."

"Beg pardon?"

"I never explained that in any of the other realities?"

"Not that I recall, no."

"I might be able to help with the memory situation, but to answer the question: I told you that I was Magic, and that my siblings were Death, Time, and Destiny. We're all . . . personifications of forces, I guess you could say. I didn't tell you that there are others too. Time calls them the lesser ones, but they're not. Just the more human ones. Strength, Courage, Honor, Liberty, Sorrow, Madness, Love, Wisdom. I can't remember the rest. There are a lot of you."

A lot of you.

A dwarf on a bridge to the Perilous Lands had told him he'd need Strength, Courage, and Magic.

Just how literally had he meant that?

"Destiny, Death, and Time are pretty limited in what they're allowed to do. Destiny has to set up her pawns and webs and then just let it play out, Death can only affect the details of the deaths, and Time has more rules than any of us. Magic, though, well . . . "

"You can do just about anything."

"When I'm whole, if I'm willing to deal with the consequences. And your lot can interfere as much as you like. Not all of you do it for the better, but all of you can do it. Way back when, Destiny and Time got jealous, got a few others on their side and - Haven't you ever wondered why there's a multiverse?"

"They did that?"

He winced. "We all did that."

Arthur gaped at him.

"When Death goes to war against Time and Magic's dueling Destiny, what do you think is going to happen?" he said defensively. "A little sand gets kicked up?"

Arthur sat down. "So. Multiverse. Got it." He thought it through. "I assume Destiny won?"

"Unfortunately. We're hard to kill, so she did the next best thing. She broke us like mirrors and tossed the shards to the multiverse. All of us, even her allies. For the more primal of us - Death, Time, and I - it diminished our power, but our larger shards retained most of our memories and could even peek in on our other selves. You couldn't."

"I'm a shard."

"Of Courage, yes."

It was insane, absolutely insane, but so was the rest of his life, so he rolled with it. "We were on the same side, right?" he checked.

Merlin grinned. "If by same side you mean you stabbed Destiny in the eye when she told you that you could either stand aside and let her break me or join me, then yes, we were on the same side."

"So . . . "

"You were broken up into larger shards than most which is why you've been bouncing around. There weren't enough of you to go around, and ever reality needs Courage."

"But there are other Arthurs out there."

"Somewhere, yes." Merlin got up and started pacing. "Even as shards, we're a threat to her. That's why she's manipulating things as she is. Keeping us off balance, keeping us from full power - "

"She was the one that put you in the lamp."

He grimaced. "She arranged it at least."

Arthur nodded.

Because this was his life. Rising from the dead to fight aliens and to find out he wasn't human just wasn't worth getting worked up over.

Alright, maybe it was, but if he started letting himself feel it now, he was pretty sure he would never stop, and that wouldn't do anyone any good except Destiny.

Deep breaths. Steady, steady. "What now?"

Right on cue, an alarm blared. Merlin turned to the door automatically. "Aliens."

"Naturally."

Merlin grinned at him. "Come on. I'll show you the lava cannons."

"Lava cannons?!"

He was already out the door.

There will be a long, slow journey. They will gather shards of themselves and piece their friends back together. They will ally with Death and convince Time to change sides. There will be wars to fix what Destiny broke and save what Destiny would have condemned.

They will corner her in her last hiding place.

Free will beats destiny any day.

Then something very long and broken but strangely good will be over.

Something better will begin.

Will. But right now, Merlin is giving a rant on aliens, and Arthur is doing his very best not to laugh.

Read me Read me Read me Read me:

A/N: I accomplished what I set out to do. One hundred chapters, and I'm proud of the last one.

I hope all of you like the whole shards thing. I borrowed a bit from Pratchett's anthropomorphic personifications, a bit from Brandon Sanderson's cosmere, and made the rest up.

Several people have requested more stories. This collection is complete, BUT I AM PLANNING TO START ANOTHER ONE. It will not update daily, but there are several threads I'm not quite finished with. Prompts and challenges welcomed.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, for all of the wonderful reviews. I treasure them all.

and wikipedia both provided mythological information for today's offering.

I hope to meet you again on future adventures!