Merlin could hear whispers. They followed him, everywhere he went. They sometimes grew quiet for an hour or so, but at times screamed for his attention. He did not understand the whispers, nor could he find any language they matched, but he could sense fear in them. It drove him mad. For days he wandered around the castle, running into things, not hearing things properly.

"Have you gone deaf, old man?" Arthur shouted at him one day. Merlin was technically no longer his servant, but he did the job anyway. Merlin jumped to attention.

"No, sorry." He picked up Arthur's sword and handed it to him. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I asked for my phone, I need to check my messages." Merlin did a double-take. Arthur adapted better to technology in these few weeks than Merlin did in 900 years. He picked up the phone and passed it to Arther, who quickly opened it and did a scrolling motion. The noises got louder and Merlin tensed. Arthur put his phone down and looked at him, concerned.

"You should just let me get a different servant. This isn't a job for a… you know." Merlin sighed.

"I did this job as a sorcerer for ten years."

"You could still be on the royal court, you could be my advisor."

"I like doing this. And I'm already you're advisor"

"Well, you're doing a horrible job of it. Your minds have been in the clouds for days."

"Why are you still training with a sword?" Merlin asked to change the subject.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked like it was a ridiculous question.

"The rest of the world uses guns, and tanks, and bombs," Merlin explained.

"It seems a dishonorable way to fight. It requires no skill, whoever shoots first wins." Merlin smiled a bit.

"Oh, really?" Arthur nodded. Merlin did the natural thing, which was challenging him to a paintball fight. Four hours later, Arthur and some newly appointed knights were split into teams. An instructor taught them all how to work the gun, then let them loose in the arena. Merlin specifically requested being on a separate team than Arthur. He had never seen paintball, but he had to be better at it than him. Merlin considered finding Arthur with magic, but he gave his word he wouldn't cheat. And of course, Arthur found him first. He missed the first shot but got a clean one to his heart before Merlin could turn around. He was the first one out. He sat around and watched Arthur and the nights chase each other around. Soon, it was between Arthur and one particularly young knight who had obviously done this a few times. The kid one. Arthur was graceful about it. Merlin could tell he liked this knight. With the black curly hair. He reminded him of Mordred. Merlin brought this up later when Arthur and Gwen were preparing for bed.

"Yes. before he turned…" Arthur trailed off. Merlin knew what he was thinking.

"It wasn't your fault," Merlin said sharply.

"Of course it was." Merlin shook his head but said nothing. Nothing he could say would convince Arthur otherwise. He needed to grieve on his own. Gwen kissed him on the cheek and said goodnight to Merlin and her servant. Merlin went to the chambers beneath the palace. He was beginning to wonder if the whispers would ever go away. He read everything he could find about hearing voices. He didn't think there was a snake in his ear controlling his mind. He didn't ever remember summoning a genie. He didn't split his mind into two halves. None of the magical books gave him any sort of explanation. So he went to the doctor. He explained the situation, without saying who he was or that he had magic. Maybe there was a totally normal cause of this.

"Is it like a ringing sound?" Merlin said no.

"It sounds like a pained, whimpering child." The doctor looked in his ears again, as if looking for the child.

"Everything looks normal, which leads me to believe this is psychological. I'm gonna recommend a psychiatrist, and she can tell you what's up and uh… hopefully recommend a therapist." Merlin said thanks and left. The psychiatrist said it sounded like he was experiencing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Merlin had been through some pretty Traumatic things, so this seemed plausible. But it didn't feel like the answer. Still, he had a therapy session scheduled for the following Sunday. That night Merlin only dreamt of the whispers. He saw absolute darkness, and there seemed to be a creature making noises somewhere in the dark. Then he felt something move in his dream. A shift. a light came through some sort of thin wall, and he saw the light cast on an outline. The outline was of a dark, bony, slimy wing. Merlin turned his head to see a dragon make more, loud whispering sounds, and he woke from his dream in shock.

A dragon? but they're all gone. How could there be another one? A baby no less. It would have to have parents. But who are its parents? Is this a dream from the past? If so, why does it feel live? Merlin once often heard Kilgharrah's voice. This Dragon was afraid, and it was desperately calling out to a Dragonlord. Merlin felt a strange feeling of rush. Like the clock was ticking, and he needed to find that egg.