Epilogue. "Returning to the Point"

Leon opened his eyes to a world of grey mist – around him, beneath him, above…

He pushed himself to his feet, noting he had no armor or weapons, nor wounds or pain of any kind, though he could have sworn that he'd just died.

"Hello?" he shouted as the mist swirled, hoping against hope that the afterlife held more to it than this.

There was no answer, not even an echo, just a formless void that swallowed his voice up in nothingness.

The knight started walking, his feet moving without conscious thought, drifting in a random direction as the grey fog pulsed and wove, obscuring everything beyond the reach of his arm.

He walked, and walked, and walked…on and on, with no sense of time, for what could have been hours or days or years…until suddenly, three dark figures emerged from the shadows. They were shrouded in ragged robes and hoods, features completely hidden.

Leon stopped short.

Were these the guardians of the afterlife, sent to judge his life and see if he was worthy to enter?

"Leon, son of Lionel, knight of Camelot," they intoned in unison.

He nodded, not sure if he was supposed to speak.

"Destiny has been denied –"

"Camelot has fallen –"

"Albion is no more."

Leon shivered as they spoke, jumping in and finishing each other's sentences. This was unsettling, with the mist and the swirling black cloaks and faceless figures, and somehow he was starting suspect he had not found his way to the gates of Avalon.

"Magic is angered and the earth cries in pain!" they again spoke together.

"Who are you?" Leon asked, narrowing his eyes. "Where am I?"

"Things cannot remain in this state!" they said, ignoring him completely.

"Knight of Camelot –"

"You have been chosen –"

"You must mend that which has been broken."

"Who are you?" Leon repeated, more forcefully. "What right do you have to tell me I must fix the whole world if you won't even tell me who you are?"

"We are the Disir! We are sent by the Triple Goddess! We judge the lives of men!" they screeched, advancing angrily and surrounding him, their rags whipping in a sudden wind. "You have been chosen to remember and to protect!"

Leon gulped, wondering why he couldn't have just died in peace. "To remember? Remember what?" he asked, thoroughly confused. "Protect who?"

"To remember what was – "

"What is –"

"And what must never be again!"

"To protect Courage –"

"And Magic –"

"And Albion."

Leon had felt no pain when he came to awareness in this empty place, but this conversation was giving him a headache to rival all his battle wounds of the past as the strange figures talked in circles and hidden meanings.

"Why me?" he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Why have you chosen me?"

"Because you are the catalyst –"

"The divergence –"

"The cause."

He blinked, as if he'd been slapped.

"Wait. Are you saying that everything that happened, the entire fall of Camelot, was my fault?"

The figures drew away – retreating, again not answering.

"Remember Sir Leon, son of Lionel, knight of Camelot," they chanted instead. "Remember!"

"Remember what?" he yelled after them. "What did I do? How did I cause this?"

But as suddenly as they had appeared, they were gone. Leon ran after them, pawing at the rolling mist, desperate to push it away, to see clearly, to find the women again or find a path or figure out where he was… Anything to leave this grey sameness! He ran until the pain of battle returned and he couldn't breathe or stand, until he collapsed, and then the grey mist rushed in and buried him as if it were dirt covering a grave and he knew no more.

00000

Leon woke with a start, covered in sweat and with his heart racing. He grabbed instinctually for his sword before realizing he wasn't in battle but in his own bed, safe in his chambers in Camelot.

With a groan he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and letting his head drop to his hands as images and emotions crashed through it, chaotic as his nightmares had been but fading fast.

He sat there for a long time, steading his breathing and desperately trying to hold onto the scenes from his dreams, but they twisted and turned and slipped away like sand through fingers until all he was left with was a vague sense of unease and warning.

Finally, when the first sliver of dawn found his window, he shook his head and stood, throwing on clothing and heading for the grounds. There was nothing as good as a brisk training session for clearing a troubled mind.

Except it didn't work - not this time.

Leon found his days passing as normal but the constant niggle of worry and urgency that had settled in his gut refused to go away, and his nights were spent tossing in a mess of dreams he could never remember upon waking.

Until one day, after taking a small slice to the arm during a run in with bandits on patrol, the knight opened the door of the court physician's chambers to see Gaius falling and an unknown boy's eyes flashing gold as a bed literally flew across the room to break his fall. He opened his mouth to cry "Sorcery!" but suddenly, his knees went weak as images and memories of a different lifetime crashed into him.

A boy named Merlin… A dead prince… Pyres and screams and smoke…so much smoke. A land shriveled and dying and cursed… Battles and death and blood and pain…

A choice and a catalyst, a path set in motion and a chance to undo it…

And so, even as he distantly noted that Gaius had begun yelling at the boy he knew was named Merlin, Leon sucked in a shaky breath and simply shut the door.

00000

Destiny righted itself, the stars realigned, and the prophesies slotted back into place. A boy lived to protect a prince.

Leon wondered if he would forget, after that fateful day when he made the conscious choice to see a young boy's magic and look the other direction, but he didn't. Sometimes, he convinced himself that the first lifetime had only been a nightmare, but then he'd feel the ghost pains of battle wounds he'd never received and know it wasn't.

In return for his burden, fate offered a gift: a protected life. It took a while for Leon to notice, but after the mess with the dragon, he couldn't ignore the signs any more – he was meant to see this lifetime through to some distant conclusion.

So Merlin protected Arthur, molding and tugging and insulting an arrogant prince into the Once and Future King he was meant to become. And Leon watched over both of them, standing beside his prince and king as knight and friend, and protecting and covering for a skinny, clumsy warlock who wasn't nearly as careful with his magic as he should have been.