Extra To Protagonist

The room went quiet for a moment. Seraphina shot him a sharp glance, but he didn't flinch.

Merlin, though, chuckled faintly. "…Fair enough."

Adrian clapped his hands, breaking the tension. "Alright, enough brooding. We didn't come to watch you rot in here—we're taking you outside."

Merlin blinked. "…Outside?"

Nathan grinned. "There's a sparring session today. Instructors running drills for the first-years. Figured you might want to… you know… see what you've missed."

For a moment, Merlin hesitated. His chest tightened with the weight of it, noise, life, the world moving on. But then Elara's gaze found his, calm and steady, like an unspoken command.

"…Fine," he said. "But don't expect me to run laps."

Adrian laughed. "You'll be lucky to walk them."

They helped him up. His legs trembled, weaker than he wanted, but Nathan moved to his side without hesitation, slipping under his arm for support. Merlin almost protested, but one glance at Nathan's earnest expression silenced him.

'Let him,' he told himself. 'Just this once.'

—

The walk across the academy grounds was slower than usual, but alive. Students filled the paths, some carrying books, others sparring in corners, bursts of elemental energy sparking the air. The chatter was constant, the laughter sharp, the smell of mana and sweat mixing in the warm morning sun.

Merlin drank it in. Every sound, every scent, every step on stone that didn't fracture beneath him.

The sparring arena opened before them soon after, a wide ring of enchanted sand, stone stands curving around it. Already, groups of students lined the seats, cheering as duels played out in the pit.

Merlin's chest tightened. The sound wasn't mocking or looping. It was raw, messy, human.

Nathan guided him to the benches near the front. Merlin sat carefully, breathing slow. The sun caught in his hair, golden eyes sharp as he scanned the field.

Below, two students clashed, fire against water, sparks bursting into steam that hung heavy in the air. The crowd roared with each exchange.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Adrian said, sitting beside him with a grin.

Merlin tilted his head. "…What does?"

"Being here. With everyone."

Merlin's lips twitched. "…Yeah. It does."

His eyes drifted to the field again. Each strike, each parry, it all looked different now. Slower. Predictable. He could see the gaps in their stances, the hesitation in their footwork. Three stars. Strong, yes, but to him, they looked like children playing at war.

And then, faintly, a ripple at the edge of the arena.

Merlin's breath caught. His golden eyes narrowed.

Morgana had entered.

The Headmistress moved with her usual poise, robes trailing, her expression unreadable as she stepped into the shade of the stands. She didn't sit. She didn't speak. She simply stood, watching.

Her gaze, sharp as glass, swept the field once. Then it found him.

Merlin froze.

The group around him didn't notice, Adrian leaning forward, cheering loudly, Nathan muttering commentary under his breath, Liliana whispering encouragement to the duelists. But Morgana's eyes locked with his, unwavering, unblinking.

For a heartbeat, it felt like she was standing right before him again, cutting through the silence of his world with that single truth: six stars.

Merlin swallowed hard, tearing his gaze back to the duel below. His chest ached with the weight of it.

'She knows. She's the only one who knows.'

The clash below reached its climax, water flooding against fire, steam exploding in a wave that swept the arena. The crowd erupted. Adrian whooped, Nathan laughed, Liliana clapped politely.

Merlin only watched, silent.

His mind replayed Morgana's voice: "Do not rush. And do not fall."

Her presence pressed against him like a second sun, unseen by anyone else.

And for the first time since his return, Merlin realized he wasn't just being watched by gods, or by friends. He was being measured.

By someone who actually saw.

—

When the spar ended, the group filed down toward the lower stands to greet some of the duelists. Nathan leaned close, grinning. "We'll get you back in there soon, yeah?"

Merlin forced a smirk. "…We'll see if I can still walk tomorrow."

Nathan laughed, clapping his shoulder.

But Morgana's gaze lingered, following him even as the group pulled him away.

Merlin didn't look back. He didn't need to. He could feel it.

And deep inside, where Rathan's memories still burned, Merlin whispered to himself—

'Not yet. Not them. Not anyone. Just me.'

—

The walk back from the arena had been slower than the one there.

By the time the others guided him through the academy's halls again, Merlin's legs felt like stone, his shoulders heavy as though every step dragged centuries behind it.

The noise of the courtyard still clung to him, the laughter, the cheers, the clash of steel. It echoed against his ribs long after the sounds themselves faded.

But for once, exhaustion didn't feel like failure. It felt earned.

Adrian had insisted on carrying him half the way, grinning like an idiot until Elara smacked him in the back of the head and told him to stop. Nathan had steadied his arm without complaint, and Liliana had walked close enough that her presence alone gave him strength.

Ethan, of course, had grumbled about being dragged along, but his gaze kept flicking Merlin's way like he couldn't quite hide the worry.

Seraphina had said nothing, but her steps had matched Merlin's perfectly, unflinching, steady, reliable.

And Morgana's eyes…

He hadn't dared glance back, but he'd felt them burning into his spine until the last corner swallowed her from view.

By the time they reached the infirmary, sweat clung to Merlin's brow. The sterile white walls greeted him again, the sharp scent of herbs and disinfecting oils filling the air. For a moment, a strange heaviness sank into his chest.

'Back here again.'

He half-expected the simulation walls to bleed back in, for the gods' laughter to rise. But nothing came. Only the quiet rustle of papers and the soft tread of footsteps.

The nurse on duty glanced up as they entered, a woman with dark hair tied tightly at the back of her head. Her eyes widened faintly at the sight of Merlin, upright, moving under his own strength.

"You've been busy," she said flatly, though there was a trace of something softer under her tone.

Merlin gave her a crooked smirk. "…Field trip."

She didn't smile back, but her eyes lingered on him a little longer than usual. Then she flipped through a clipboard, scanning. After a long moment, she set it down.

"You don't belong here anymore."

Merlin blinked. "…Excuse me?"

"You've been cleared," the nurse said, matter-of-fact. "Your vitals are stable, your body's recovering naturally. There's no reason to keep you confined to the infirmary any longer."

The words hung heavy in the air.

Merlin stared at her, then down at his hands, calloused and faintly trembling from exertion. His throat tightened.

"…You mean I can leave?"

The nurse nodded once. "You can return to your quarters. The academy apartments still have yours on record. It's been untouched since…" She trailed off, then looked him in the eye. "Since you left."

The group went silent.

Nathan's face broke into a wide grin. "Finally! No more sterile walls, no more bland food. You're going home."

Adrian laughed, slapping Merlin's back hard enough to nearly topple him. "Knew you'd outlast this place!"

Liliana's lips curved in a gentle smile, though her eyes shone faintly. Ethan muttered something about "lucky bastard," but there was no venom behind it. Even Seraphina's posture shifted, the faintest easing of her usually rigid frame.

Elara alone remained unreadable, violet eyes fixed on Merlin as though weighing every heartbeat.

Merlin, though, barely heard them.

Home.

The word clawed through his chest, stirring memories he hadn't dared touch. His apartment. His books scattered across the desk. The half-finished mug of tea he'd left behind, probably long cleaned away. The window that looked out over the quiet garden paths.

A place untouched by gods or illusions.

His fingers curled into fists. "…When?"

"Today," the nurse said simply. "If you feel strong enough to make the walk."

Merlin stood straighter, his golden eyes burning with something fiercer than before.

"I'll make it."

—

They left together not long after, the group insisting on escorting him across the grounds. The nurse had wanted him to take it easy, but Merlin barely heard her warnings. His heart pounded too loudly, each step carrying him closer to something he hadn't thought he'd ever see again.

The academy apartments stood tall along the eastern quarter of the grounds, carved stone framed with ivy, their balconies overlooking both gardens and training fields. Dozens of first-years called them home, a bridge between the rigid barracks of training and the freedom of the outside world.

Merlin's apartment was on the second floor.

When they reached the stairwell, his legs almost betrayed him. His body screamed for rest, muscles quivering with every step. But Nathan's hand was there again, steadying, and Elara's sharp gaze kept him from faltering.

At last, they reached his door.

The wood was plain, the bronze handle polished by countless hands. But Merlin knew it, remembered every scratch, every grain.

For a long moment, he just stood there, staring.

'It feels like another lifetime.'

Adrian crossed his arms, smirking. "Well? You gonna open it, or are we camping in the hall?"

Merlin's throat tightened. Slowly, he raised his hand. His fingers curled around the handle, trembling, not from weakness, but from the weight of it.

He turned it.

The door creaked open.

Dust hung faintly in the air, stirred by the first breath of light in months. The room was exactly as he'd left it, simple, small, but undeniably his. A narrow bed, a desk piled with books, a chair tucked haphazardly under it. The curtains were drawn halfway, letting the afternoon sun spill across the floor in golden stripes.

Merlin stepped inside. His knees nearly buckled.