"Well, now there's a few stories," Merlin said, crossing his legs and getting more comfortable on the bench. "You could read many of them yourself, if you felt so inclined, but to answer your question, I was more of a sidelines character. I was there, but I left the armour and swords to the knights. Arthur did all that. He was very good at it." There was a shade of wistfulness to his demeanour as he thought back, the image of those battles as vivid in his mind as if he'd seen them yesterday. "Battle is a brutal thing. Swords and arrows, the smell of blood and shit- but thrilling too. The blood runs hot for the victory, and you can taste it in your teeth. To win a battle is a glorious thing."
He could sound objective about it, because those tales had been told so many times now that they barely registered as proper events. Except for the last, and some sadness crept across his face. "But I saw Arthur die in battle. I wasn't there, but I saw it. My one true friend, lost." A moment longer to mark the memory, and then looking up at Kaden again with the long acceptance of their fate. And maybe, being a little open about that might garner some sympathy and show Kaden he was not alone in his loss. "But you didn't come here to hear an old man ramble about the past."