They ended up discovering that Merlin had indeed just walked out. After hours of frantic searching, interrogating anyone who could have seen something useful, the missing boy was found in a lower part of town, simply sitting on the edge of a stone fountain.

Arthur watched him sadly, a small ache growing in his heart. In these peaceful surroundings, Merlin appeared as if he was daydreaming. He looked almost normal. The warlock's impassive face was turned towards a small house on the other side of the road.

"That is an odd coincidence," Gaius remarked, a slight frown on his worn features. "I was there earlier today."

"You know these folks?" asked Gwaine. "We should ask them if they saw anything."

Gaius nodded and slowly made his way towards the small stone house. He paused in front of the front door. "All right, we can ask, but let's keep our visit short. Their son is gravely ill, I wouldn't wish to disturb them any longer than necessary."

The physician knocked on the wooden door. A middle-aged woman opened it, beaming at the sight of the old physician.

"Oh, Gaius! Thank you so much," the woman said, joyful relief in her voice instead of sorrow. "Our son, he is much better."

Gaius smiled at the encouraging news. "I am glad. May I please examine him?"

"Of course!" she enthusiastically replied.

Gaius headed inside but Arthur did not follow. There was no way he was letting Merlin out of his sight, less he would disappear again.

"Gwaine, stay with Gaius," he ordered. "I will take Merlin back to the castle. I don't want to leave him alone. Just let me know if you find out anything."

"Sure thing, Princess. But try not to blink, all right?" Gwaine warned jokingly. "Just in case Merlin tries to go "poof" again."

To his surprise, Arthur was able to lead his apathetic friend all the way back to his home in the physician's quarters. All attempts to engage him in conversation were unproductive as always, but Arthur was somehow relieved to notice that Merlin was apparently not hampered in his movements by the scarring on his legs.

As the young king guided his friend down in a sitting position, he wondered what this escapade meant for Merlin, futilely trying to curb his hope.

After a short wait, Gaius entered the room. He was soon followed by Gwaine, carrying a platter in his hands. Merlin's meal. Arthur silently admonished himself for having overlooked this. Merlin was already getting so thin. When was the last time he had eaten?

Gwaine sat in front of Merlin to feed him while Gaius approached the king to confirm that his patient was indeed recovering.

"That's good. I'm glad the boy is better, but why was Merlin even there?"

"Sire, this child was extremely ill. I feared for his life," explained the old man, his tone grave. "There is no known cure in the physician's arts for his condition."

"You think Merlin cured him?"

"It might be. I don't see any other explanation."

Arthur smiled brightly. "So Merlin is getting better!"

"Maybe, Sire." Gaius pressed his lips in a tight line.

"But you don't think so."

"It is too soon to say. We must not get ahead of ourselves," the physician stated, clearly not sharing his king's enthusiasm.

The king creased his brow. "Be honest with me, Gaius."

"Merlin is no longer getting worse and we should not have to fear for his life anymore. Nonetheless, there have been no changes in his mental state."

"He is standing up and walking," Arthur argued before pointing to Merlin and Gwaine. "Look at him, he's even eating better."

"It is only a theory, Sire, but I believe Merlin's magic is taking control of his body. It is a part of him, as natural as breathing. And just as his lungs keep breathing, his magic does the same thing it has always done, which is helping people."

"Secretly."

The physician raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."

Arthur closed his eyes in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This will require a lot of supervision."

"If his magic truly replicates his Merlin's actions, you might find that no matter the guard we keep him under, he will be able to elude us. He always was," Gaius pointed out, a rare smile appearing on his weary face.

From his seat next in front of Merlin, Gwaine threw back his head and let out a loud laugh.

"I knew was a sneaky one," complained Arthur with a half smile. "I never realized just how much."

"Why would you even want to stop him?" Gwaine asked. "His magic might be pulling the strings, but Merlin would wish to help."

"Gwaine has a point," Gaius agreed. "Merlin could still do a lot of good. I know it is what he would want."

"What Merlin wanted got him in trouble all the time," argued Arthur. "We have to keep him safe."

"Apparently, he can take care of himself," a smug Gwaine held.

And this was how Merlin was occasionally seen wandering the streets of Camelot.

Tales of magical occurrences taking place whenever the strange boy was sighted began to spread through the city, though nobody had ever witnessed him doing actual magic. Injuries were healed, accidents were prevented, illnesses were cured. Thieves tripped over thin air, now and again landing at the feet of an amused king.

People even found their flower beds blooming.

"Still a girl, Merlin. It's early December, you might want to tone it down," advised Arthur during one of Merlin's escapades. Not that the silent sorcerer would heed his word. He never had before, why start now?

It felt odd, walking along the streets of Camelot, following this strange version of Merlin. Whereas normal Merlin, whatever normal meant for one such as Merlin, used to be noisy and fumbling, this one was completely quiet. It felt like stalking a ghost.

From what Arthur had been able to observe from afar, Merlin never touched a single thing, doors opening by magic in front of him. Once what Merlin set out to do had been accomplished, he simply made his way back to the physician's room and that damned armchair Arthur now loathed.

He wanted to destroy the bloody thing.

Gaius had been right in his assumptions. The physician had been astounded and pleased to notice that, while Merlin's magic was never noticeable whenever anybody was looking, it flowed freely if Gaius was the only one observing.

The king knew by now that he would not get his friend back, not the way he used to be. The bright and cheerful Merlin he had known was gone but he would treasure his memories of his time with him. Arthur would always grieve the loss of his best friend, although, since his discussion with the dragon, he had once again found a sense of purpose.

With the ban on magic now lifted, some magic users had started coming back to Camelot and the unrest among the druids was mostly gone.

The rebellion had also been quelled. With so many untrained men coerced into taking arms against their king, their opponent's spirits had proven weak. Reports of attacks from a menacing dragon in the feuding lands eventually turned the tide, people figuring their best chance laid with King Arthur who was, after all, a reputed dragon slayer. The leaders of the rebellion had been captured. Arthur had given them a second chance by banishing them after Merlin's botched execution. They would not live to get a third.

Slowly, Arthur had started working towards his ultimate ambition of one day uniting the land. Peace throughout Albion would have to be the first step. Discussions with other rulers were making great progress despite of countless obstacles and some long-standing feuds. Mentalities would take a long time to change but the young king was confident that they would eventually get there.

"I hope you would have been pleased," Arthur said to Merlin during his evening visit.

Merlin kept staring into nothing, his face expressionless, but Arthur was not expecting a reply anymore. His friend's presence would have to suffice.

"I'm sure he would have."

Arthur turned around and smiled at Guinevere. He had been so deep in thoughts, talking to Merlin, that he had not even noticed her arrival. He rose from his seat next to the silent boy.

"It's getting late," he said as he embraced his wife. "I'm going to bed."

"Then I'll see you soon."

Arthur glanced back at Merlin before taking his leave, his eyes betraying his sorrow.

Gwen heard the wooden door close behind him. Sitting beside Merlin, she took his hands in her own, rubbing them gently. They were always so very cold now, ever since the fire took away their loyal friend, leaving behind a broken vessel.

"Hello Merlin. You seem well," she began awkwardly. "I wanted to thank you for all the good you have done around Camelot lately."

While it was nice to know that part of her friend was living on, she could not believe that was all. Everything the warlock had done recently felt so… Merlin.

"Gaius says that you, or more likely your magic, sense when someone needs your help. Well… Arthur sorely needs it… Needs you," she added, a slight tremolo in her voice. "Can you feel it? You have always been so devoted to him, how could you not?"

Although Arthur's work had improved the lives of everyone in Camelot, and she could not have been prouder of him, a persistent melancholy had settled in her husband's heart. Gwen feared that the sadness would never leave him.

She moved her right hand to brush Merlin's cheek.

"I know it's a fool's hope, but I have come to realise that when it comes to you, I should expect the unexpected."

Gwen covered Merlin with a blanket, observing her friend's vacant face with a bittersweet smile.

She laid a soft kiss on his forehead. "Arthur needs you by his side, Merlin."

To be continued

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