Before opening the book, something else caught Arthur's attention. It was a loose piece of parchment, scrawled over in black ink. On closer inspection, these ink marks turned out to be tallies, punctuated by half a scrawl at he top, made completely illegible (not that Merlin's handwriting had been much in the first place) by being ripped in half.

Arthur tossed it aside, moving onto the magic book.

Turning it over in his hands, he felt no sense of dread, or evil emanating from the book. It was just like any other tome-paper that was lettered and illustrated, bound together, albeit punctuated with scrap pieces of parchment wedged between the pages. Flipping the clasps, he opened the book to a random page. Obviously not so random as to have Merlin bookmark it. He glanced down at the strange lettering, wondering how on earth an idiot like Merlin could hope to even comprehend it.

Well, he was a sorcerer, Arthur remembered.

Giving up trying even to understand the passage, Arthur turned his attention to the scrap of parchment which Merlin had so dutifully provided to mark the page.

Alter Ego? In case of magic in front of people?

He turned it over, curious.

Must not use so much potion - de-ageing is delayed. Also, must find way to alleviate pain/walk faster. Piggybacks hurt.

Arthur's eyes widened in recognition and he snapped the book shut, raising it to eye level, turning it over. It was the same book that the old sorcerer-Dragoon, or something-had used on the night his father had died.

Could it be?

He knew something was up when Merlin was acting strange-well, stranger than usual-when he had gone to relieve himself. There was ample time for him to perform this spell and dupe Arthur into aiding him. It was also explain the man's strangely familiar and bizarre behaviour.

Was Merlin the sorcerer who had killed his father?

But then.

The first time the so-called 'Dragoon the Great' had appeared, he had been trying to claim responsibility for Arthur and Guinivere's love for each other. Something he had obviously not done. Had Merlin been trying to save Arthur and Guinivere?

What about the old man's payment in return for helping Uther? He had sounded so convicted, as if speaking for all those who had been affected by the Purge and the ban on magic. That sorrowful look had returned that night, mixed in with a terrible guilt. Arthur had been so shocked and enraged that he had not noticed it but looking back on it now. Gaius had said that the sorcerer feels great remorse over what happened that night.

He opened the next page and gasped. Even without the aid of the parchment, Arthur could easily recognise the orb of light that had guided him out of the cave whilst pursuing the Morteus flower and being pursued himself by giant spiders. Though, that had been in Merlin's own interest-the flower was the cure, but he must have dying when he performed that spell.

Arthur didn't know what to think anymore. Choosing another bookmark, he opened up to another page. He continued to do this, finding parallels between events he had deemed as fortune-saving his and many others' lives. Enchanting weapons, healing spells and animation-Merlin had diligently scribbled down the instances he had used these spells.

Not to enslave, not to destroy, not to kill-to help, to cure, to save lives.

Arthur put down the magic book, as he did so, one last piece of parchment fell out. It landed right next to the first piece he had salvaged, the tallies showing through. Coincidentally enough, it seemed to be the top half of the ripped piece. Bringing them together, Arthur read the title of the piece.

Times I've saved Arthur's ass:

Arthur couldn't even begin to count, the tallies continuing onto the flip side of the parchment.

So engrossed in counting the tallies was Arthur that he didn't notice the tread of his manservant's feet as he approached his room.

Well, that was until Merlin dropped the bottle he was holding in pure shock at the sight of the King of Camelot reading his book on sorcery.

Both startled parties jumped in fright and stared at each other.

"A-Arthur?" Merlin stumbled nervously, his heart hammering away at his ribcage.

"How many times? How many tallies?" demanded Arthur, getting o his feet and waving the parchment around.

Merlin sighed-there was no point in lying about how many times he had used magic, even though it was banned on the pain of death.

He didn't hide it.

"At the last count, one-hundred and fifty-seven... I think, yeah," he blurted out, dreading the consequences. Merlin even began to consider how it would happen-fire or axe?

One thing that had never crossed his mind-even in those hypothetical situations he had played over in his mind, was what happened next.

Arthur walked over and brought Merlin into a quick embrace, thumping him heartily on the back.

Merlin performed an accurate impersonation of a fish-opening and closing his mouth, speechless.

"Thank you."

"For what?" asked Merlin, wanting to question Arthur over what happened, but thought better.

"I found your magic book under the floorboards and decided to read through it."

Merlin raised his eyebrows.

"I couldn't read the book, idiot," Merlin subconsciously relaxed at the insult,"I read the bookmarks that had your chicken scratches on them... not that they were much more readable than the actual writing... And now... now I'm not sure. My view on magic... it's changed... and I suppose I have you to thank for it."

Merlin, who had not said much during this conversation, just nodded-a bit stunned from the fact that-without even having to admit it himself-Arthur had accepted him as a sorcerer.

"Merlin, I need to trust you... completely."

"I swear, Arthur, on my own life that I have only used magic for good. For the good of Camelot, for the good of you."

Merlin not only spoke these words with utter conviction, his entire being emanated the message, convincing Arthur once and for all.