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Chapter 65 - In which we bring Book One to a close

"They'll be back."

We were atop Tintagel's battlements, watching the remnants of the Saxon army pack up and wind their way back home, when Arthur gave it his best Arnie impression.

The blue-skinned warriors were dispersing in dribs and drabs, and I knew that Bors was just itching to lead some of the boys over the bridge to speed them on their way. So far, Uther had forbade any sorties until he properly understood what had occurred to cause the retreat.

I was looking forward to introducing him to Drynwyn.

The woods of the mainland were still smouldering with the aftermath of the unholy firestorm unleashed by that sword. It really had gone all out to make a good impression on the Prince of the Britons. I wasn't sure how I was going to break it to it that Arthur would rather lop off and eat his own dick than touch that sword again.

At some stage, I would have to wander over that side of the bridge and retrieve it. I figured I'd wait until my daily 'fuck' quotient ran low.

After everything I'd been through recently, though, I felt I deserved the indulgence of a game of duelling movie misquotes. "They may come back, but not soon. You know, once, I had that sword cook an entire army for half a day. When it was over, I walked up to see what was left. I didn't find one of them. Not one Saxon body."

The wind picked up and blew through our hair - well, my hair. Arthur was still channelling his inner Yul Brynner.

He looked at me sideways. "I don't understand what you just said."

"That doesn't matter. I was just explaining how much I loved the smell of napalm in the morning."

"You are very strange, my Lady. Even for a cultivator."

"Stop. You're making me blush."

Even to my jaded emotional senses, the reunion between Arthur and his parents had been rather touching. They had so clearly reconciled themselves to his loss that it took some time for it to sink in that he was still alive. When that dam of refusal broke and the cheering and hugging began, I appeared to get something in my eye.

I'd shared a flat with a Russian girl back in the day, and she'd kept leaving these giant, doorstop books around for me to read. She worried for my soul, apparently. I'd ignored most of them, but after a particularly rough breakup, I let the one about the girl who got hit by the train get under my skin.

There's a line in it that comes back to me now as I watch Arthur, face flushed with embarrassment, accept the outpouring of parental love that came his way. "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."

I wondered how my sister was.

We had not spoken in years. My choice.

Of course, being a lovely person, she never stopped trying to reconnect. Birthday messages. Christmas cards. She even turned up at my work the day Mum died.

At some point in my downward spiral, I'd decided that her life would be so much brighter without me in it. I still think that was the right decision.

Are you okay, my dear?

I watched Arthur move to the back of the hall to awkwardly greet a willowy blonde in a striking green dress. The Princess Guinevere, I assumed. That 'welcome home' was a touch less effusive. She didn't quite spit on him, but she clearly considered it.

"Not really, Big M."

Is there anything I can do?

"Doubt it. How bad do you think the changes to the future will be?"

It is impossible to tell, I'm afraid. My only frame of reference is that you are still here. I am working on the assumption that if the Saxons had been able to cause a catastrophic break in the timeline, your existence would cease.

"Well, that's rather terrifying and somewhat puts the city of Exeter in its place. Obliterated from existence, and the world keeps turning. How about all the dead Knights of the Round Table? I'd have expected that to cause ructions?"

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I assume, with the invasion repulsed, there will be time to find suitable replacements, and the timeline can continue largely unaltered.

"So, we won?"

The lengthy pause was hardly the sort of thing that presaged a victory lap. Define 'won.'

"Mate, everything we've been doing has been to keep this timeline rolling. You're saying - acknowledging Exeter as acceptable collateral damage - we've achieved that. So are we done?"

If I say 'yes,' what do you envisage happening next?

I went to answer and then stopped. If the imminent danger had now passed, what did I see as my next step? That Merlin would let me go back to being dead? Was that really what I wanted anymore? After everything I'd done over the last few weeks?

We have foiled this first attempt, but we need not be so naive as to think that the Saxons will now retreat behind their borders, never to be heard of again. My death has released a tidal wave of Qi in the world, and it is clear that there are innumerable cultivators now growing in the vacuum I have left behind. I do not seek to flatter, but you are currently the pre-eminent British wizard of the age. We have discussed the flaws in your foundations, and we will need to address those urgently, but Britain will not stand without your support.

"That's a lot of pressure, Big M."

I looked around the room.

At Arthur, now experiencing a thorough tongue-lashing from his wife. And not the good kind. At Uther and Igraine - I had not taken to the Queen of the Britons. There was more than a touch of the White Witch from the Chronicles of Narnia about her. At giant Sir Bors and the handful of remaining Knights.

They didn't exactly need me, but me being around would certainly make their upcoming struggles easier. When was the last time I could say that about anyone?

And that was how, a few hours later, I found myself at the top of Tintagel, swapping movie quotes with the Once and Future King.

"Apparently, you have the voice of Merlin in your head?" Arthur's eyes were firmly fixed ahead on the retreating Saxons.

"I do. Is there something you want to ask him?"

He wet his lips nervously. "Not really. It's just... I cannot get used to living in a world without him. His prophecies have shaped my whole life and I don't know what it means for his hope for the future if he is not around to make it happen."

"I think he'd say that his prophecies were very clear. They were not about the deeds and achievements of Merlin. They were focused on the time of peace and justice that King Arthur would bring about. Just because he's not here doesn't make much difference. You're the important one. That right, Big M?"

I couldn't have put it better myself, my dear.

There was suddenly an explosion of flame from within the centre of the Saxons. I assume some unfortunate spearman had thought to pick up the expensive-looking sword innocently lying around behind their lines. I was going to need to go and get it sooner or later.

When I looked back over at Arthur, he was staring at me intently.

"What?"

"Will you be sticking around to help that vision become a reality? There will be a need for a new Court Mage in the world that is to come."

Rather than answer, I took a breath and dropped into my artist's studio.

What I thought of as my 'water feature' core was rapidly filling up, and I could sense that whatever changes that would cause might well be worth sticking around for. In fact, watching my Qi flow around my channels was an incredibly relaxing pastime.

There were indeed worse places to spend some time.

Suddenly hearing Arthur swear, I was pulled back into reality. He was pointing to a solitary figure sitting astride a horse. The man was clad in wolf fur and was holding a spear in the air.

Cedric.

The last of the blue-skinned spearmen were swarming past him and away, leaving this lone man as the final Saxon before Tintagel.

Arthur raised his own spear in reply. I was told this was called Rhongomyniad, and whilst it didn't appear to speak, it was still a fuck-off deadly piece of wood and iron.

The two commanders held the pose for what felt like the length of the Bible. Eventually, the Saxon dipped his head in some sort of acknowledgement, then sharply turned his horse around to ride away.

"What was all that about?" I was somewhat unfamiliar with the etiquette of penis measuring.

"He was letting us know he would be seeing us soon. So?" He turned back to me. "Will you be here when he comes back?"

I could feel Merlin's intangible eyes turn on me as they both awaited my answer.

In response, I filled my hands with Qi and fired energy beams towards the disappearing Saxons. I didn't have the strength to do any damage at this range, but I certainly managed to cause some panic; I was especially pleased to see Cedric's horse rear and deposit him in the mud. As the retreat descended into chaos, I channelled some Qi to my voicebox and boomed a speech out over the mainland.

"I know who you are. I know what you wanted. You sought to conquer these lands, and I can tell you I don't have the patience for that. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very short period of time and in an entirely random way. Skills that make me a nightmare for ... well, anyone, basically. Ask Arthur where his hair went. If you leave Britain now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you and I will kill you."

I held out my hand for Drynwyn and pulled at the thread that connected us. It rose in the air, and then Catherine-wheeled to me, spiralling flames as it came. Its hilt slapped into the palm of my hand and then fired out the most over-the-top beam of light into the sky since the last time Lion-O summoned the Thundercats.

I levelled the sword towards the Saxons. "Fly, you fools."

And reader, they did.

I turned back to the now gawping Prince of the Britons. "Arthur, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."