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The darkness outside his window was not enough to hold his attention, even with the sky dotted with stars and the barest sliver of pale moon. He was…not homesick, Avlin felt even less like home now with his mother gone from the world, but he missed the familiarity of it. Avlin he knew for sure what to do there, knew where he stood in the world.

He missed the forests most of all, the smell of dew on the grass as dawn broke out across the sky. The sound of thunder as is rolled across the sky, echoing off the distant mountains. He missed the known.

Here, it was all so new to his eyes. Arthur, having at least had spent a few years here before coming to Avlin, could understand these people. Here, where he expected to see tall looming trees covered in moss, he was met with pastureland as far as he could see. Instead of light stones, candles and torches. There were no magic users in the market performing feats of great power, for magic was few here.

Instead, there were humans, pulling sleight of hand tricks, petty illusions that left nothing to the imagination. He knew he was being snobbish, but when one grew up around magic, the lack of it made you treasure any that came your way.

The climate here was different than in Avlin. There, you could always find cool shade beneath one of Avlin's many forest canopies. Here, where no trees grew and the sun shone directly on stone, the city backed. Stone that was cool in the morning absorbed the heat, holding it in until late in the night, keeping the city in a blanket of heat and humidity.

He pushed off from the wall, grimacing as sweaty skin stuck to stone momentarily. Tonight was one of those nights. The heat still lingered and already he had doused his room's fire and stripped down to nothing but his breeches. And still he continued to sweat.

Oh, he could use magic to cool things off, call up a small shower, but he wasn't going to. Since he'd first started to learn magic, it had been drilled in his head by both his teachers and mother: Never mess with nature. A change in the natural weather patterns here could cause a change elsewhere that could throw the whole cycle out of balance.

He sighed heavily. Making up his mind, he grabbed his tunic and threw it on, treading barefoot out of his rooms. Why stay in his stifling rooms when he could find a cool breeze on the wall or maybe one of the towers? A quick word laid a glamor over him, just one shadow of many, and he was off, steps light as a cat's.

"I thought I'd find you out here." A voice said softly behind him. Leaning backwards, he looked up at Arthur. He was dress similarly to Merlin, though he'd at least put on shoes.

Sitting up, he turned sideways on the wall's edge, looking up at him at a better angle. He couldn't help but smile. "You know, sometimes I think you know me too well."

Arthur snorted softly, leaning on the wall next to him. "It's not that I know you too well, it's that you're easy to predict sometimes." They rested there in companionable silence, feeling the soft breeze coming over the wall as it cooled their heated flesh.

Finally, Arthur stirred, seeming to come out of a trance. Pushing off from the wall's edge, he turned to Merlin. "You know Merlin, if you want to, you can talk to me. I may be a prat as you so aptly put it, but you're still my friend. I won't judge you."

Merlin thought this over. "I know, but there are some things even you cannot help me with. I just have to deal with it on my own. Thanks though, it means a lot to me." It was too dark to see Arthur's flush at the serenity in his voice as he shifted on his feet embarrassedly.

Instead, he ruffled his hair affectionately. "Go to bed, idiot. I don't want to wake up in the morning to learn you fell off the wall because you fell asleep up here." He turned with a grin on his face and headed for the stairs.

"Prat." Merlin called out, grinning goofily after the blonde prince. He remained there for a while longer, inhaling the scent laden night breeze. He could smell trees in the distance and hay. There was still some lingering smoke from fires and the smell of the city mixed in with it all: the small of dust, heated rock, dung, and sewage all mixed together.

Sighing again, he left his place on the wall and followed Arthur's path back into the castle and to his rooms. They were cooler, the heat of the castle finally breaking. Crawling into his large bed, he lay awake for a little while, just relieving memories of times spent running through green dappled shadows as he chased a blonde head of hair ahead of him. With those happier times in mind, he fell asleep shortly, at peace for the moment.

It was like this every time he came here. Stares, wherever he walked, looks from mistrust to curiosity, all beamed his way. He sighed inwardly, but for the most part kept his face composed. He was in the market for a reason and he wasn't going to let them scare him away.

He slowed to a stop in front of the stall he was looking for. An herb and spice seller, her wares spread out in baskets and roughhewn wooden bowls. He inhaled softly, taking in all the familiar and unknown scents that wafted from the many items. He loved coming to this stall, and if the woman didn't trust him completely, she didn't turn his money, or in this case Gaius' and she didn't stare so.

Smiling thinly, he set out selecting the items Gaius had asked him to buy. He would have come himself, but had been called away to an emergency at the last second. He was surprised when she smiled back at him, but tried not to show it as he handed her the money Gaius had thrust upon him.

Picking up the small basket with everything nestled inside it; he promised to send one of the servants back here with it and headed off. The traffic of bodies was in the streets was low as he made his way back to the castle.

He was about halfway there when he rushed to stop a man from toppling to the ground a few feet ahead. Merlin turned him over, taking in the pale pallor, prominent blue veins and the dilated pupils. He shook as if chilled, but it was a warm day out. "Are you alright, sir?" He asked politely, concern mixing with dismay as the man's condition struck a nerve. He felt he had seen this somewhere, but where?

The man didn't reply, couldn't reply to his question. "Come on, let's get you to Gaius." Pulling his arm over his shoulder, Merlin half carried, half dragged him towards the castle. If people had dodged him before because of his looks, they downright shied away when they took in the man's condition.

He turned to one of the guards around the wall of the courtyard. "Please find Gaius." The man nodded and went off in search of the Court Physician. He was nearly to Gaius's chambers when Arthur stumbled upon him.

"What the devil are you doing, Merlin?" He asked, taking in the picture of the two.

"He collapsed in the marketplace. I'm taking him to Gaius." The prince sighed, but stepped forward anyways, helping him carry the man the rest of the way. The guard made true on his word, for Gaius stood in the door, concern on his face.

"Bring him in here." He motioned to a small cot that had been set up in the room. They lay him down gently, Gaius going to work as he examined the man. Finally, he stood. "I've never seen this before. Have you any knowledge on what it might be?" He turned to look at Merlin who was seated on a low stool, staring at the man.

"I…I'm not sure. I think I have seen this illness before, but for the life of me, I can't remember. Arthur?" He asked the blonde. He might remember.

"I think there was something similar to this some years ago. Remember, when you and Hunith went to one of the outlying villages their shrine."

"I remember, but I can't remember what caused the sickness. If mother ever told me, I've forgotten, since she was the one who went off and stopped whatever it was that caused it."

Gaius sighed, eyeing the man. "This is very troubling indeed. I'll have the guards keep an eye out for any others like him." The two young men nodded.

A week later and the sickness was still growing. The original man had died two day later, but now five more had joined him. At the moment, it was spreading through the lower town, but soon it would make its way into the castle proper.

The Druid council had no notion as to what it could be, or they said they did. None had been there for the other outbreak, and even Maythn, his mother's successor, had no idea as to what was causing it. It appeared his mother had never written down its cause.

Merlin worked alongside Gaius on his resting days, tending to the sick and trying to help him figure out how the disease was spreading. "I don't think it is spread by touch. Many of these people would not have associated with each other." He was right too. Already, one of the guards had come in, a few servants who lived in the lower town, and citizens as well. None from the outlying villages of Camelot reported having the sickness, which meant it, was confined to Camelot.

This, in turn, ruled out spreading by air. If none of the villages had any sick, then those who came to and from were not spreading it that way either. "Do you think it's being spread through the water supply?" he asked the aged physician as he held a cup of water to a servant girl, her skin deathly pale, the blue of her veins, a stark contrast.

"It might, but the lower town isn't the only place that uses that water. It should have hit the castle just as hard, but they are only just now being affected."

"Well, those in the castle tend to have better health than those in the lower town. Maybe they've been strong enough till now to fight it off and it's just getting stronger." He stopped moving as he went with that thought.

"If that's true, then it would imply…"

"…magic." He finished.

He sat down heavily as he went over this newest piece of information. Magic could mean anyone, human or Druid. They might be long gone by now. He needed to figure out what it was that started the sickness. This meant a trip down memory lane to see if his mother really had told him what caused the sickness.

He stood with a determined aura around him. "I'll be back, Gaius." The old physician nodded, watching him leave.

Instead of taking the back ways he normally took, he went by a direct route, ignoring the looks of servants and nobles alike as he made his way towards his destination. He needed solitude and more importantly, he needed open space. He could have gone outside, but there would be people there, and someone would be sure to follow him if he tried the forest or an open field.

So instead of heading out, he headed up, flying up the steps once he was sure no one was watching. Camelot had many towers, placed at varying heights. The one he climbed wasn't the tallest, but it was certainly high enough to leave him winded as he finally made it to the viewing platform.

The wall was some distance below, but the few guards the dotted this section had their eyes focused out and down, not in and up. Taking a deep breath to slow his still racing heart, he settled down on the wind scored stones, his back pressed against the balustrade for support and as protection from the strong buffeting winds.

Slowly, he forced his body to relax, letting his magic well up from inside. But, instead of sending it outwards, he sent it in, to his core, to his mind. It sluggishly seeped into his mind, like rain into soil, until eventually, he was fully immersed.

Instantly, memories sprang to the forefront of his mind. He brushed them aside, heading in deeper, further back in time. If he was correct, he had been twelve when his mother had brought him along to that shrine. He always assumed it was a ploy to try and get him to join the temple.

Images and sounds assaulted his senses from all sides, random snippets from his past. He paid them no heed as he descended further in. He slowed down, his magic guiding him to the memories he sought.

Gently, with some trepidation, he reached out and touched the image, his magic drawing it in, showing it in his mind's eye.

Merlin sulked as he sat on a stool in the room. His mother ignored him, bending over an ill man, a metal smith, who was unable to rise to work. He didn't want to be here. He'd wanted to stay home and be with Arthur. They had planned on going on a small hunting trip, but his mother had changed their plans, dragging him along with her on a trip that she normally wouldn't have taken him on.

Finally she stood, speaking soft words to the man before leaving, beckoning Merlin to come along. It was dark out by now, the sun only a few remaining shreds of light on the horizon. They were headed back to the temple for the night.

The table was silent as they ate. Finally, she looked up at him. "Tell me, what do you think of this sickness?" She asked, setting her eating utensils down as she turned her piercing gaze on him.

Swallowing, he set his own cup down as he thought about it. He may not want to be here, but he could still help. "It's strange and fast acting from what we've seen. Is it something magical?" He asked her, looking up.

She nodded. "It is a very strong and negative magic. Note I say negative and not evil." She said to her son. "Magic is neither inherently good nor evil. It is the person who wields it and their intentions that make it do evil things."

"But what about all the magical creatures that attack people for no reason?" He asked her, always up for a debate.

"Magic feeds them; it is the creature's nature that guides them." She explained patiently.

"But what is causing the sickness?" He asked her, filing the information away for later study.

"It is caused by a creature called an Afanc. A creature created from earth and water, it spreads its disease through the water in which it lives. It is rare that they appear on their own, but not unheard of. Mostly they are created by magic users, but this one appears to be natural."

"How do you stop one then?" He asked her, interested.

"You tell me, what is the opposite of earth and water?"

"Fire and air."

"Very good. I will be going out tomorrow to deal with it. While I'm gone, you are to continue your studies and then we will leave the day after." He nodded enthusiastically, happy to hear that they would be leaving soon. He wanted to get back to Arthur.

"Merlin." He looked up, but his mother had left the room.

"Merlin." He looked around again.

"Merlin." His eyes flew open and he threw his hands out in front of him to keep from falling face first onto the stones beneath him. He gasped for breath as his racing heart slowed down. He was covered in sweat and he felt like he'd run a mile.

"Merlin." He looked up to see Arthur crouched next to him, face worried.

"I'm alright, just tired." He panted out.

"What were you doing out here?" He asked blonde brows knitted as he helped him sit back up.

He stood stiffly, muscles complaining as he moved from his cramped position. "I was remembering." He explained. Arthur just blinked, confused. "I was trying to remember what it was that caused the illness." He elaborated.

"And did you?" he asked, hope springing into his eyes.

"Yes, and I know where to find it."

Things went by rather quickly after that. They made it to the bottom of the stairs without incident, and to Gaius's rooms. He explained quickly to Gaius and Arthur what and where the Afanc was.

Gaius gave them the key to the reservoir underneath the castle. Arthur tried to get him to stay, saying he was still out of it from his magical memory trip, but Merlin shook his head, saying he was the only one who could help Arthur stop it.

Eventually, he gave in and they headed for the door that led down to the still pools. It was dark, the torch they carried barely illuminating the stone walls and passages the passed through. The place smelt of water, still water. Occasionally, they heard a pebble fall or the dripping of water from the ceiling, but other than that, it was silent.

"Can you fell anything?" Arthur hissed at him quietly, although his voice still bounced off the walls.

"Vaguely, but it's hard to tell." The things essence seemed to be everywhere at once. He jerked around at the sound of something scraping along stone walls. "What was that?"

Arthur turned, too, sword already drawn in one hand, torch in the other. They both spun around as something sounded behind them, catching the briefest glimpse of light shining off a wet, malformed body before it disappeared into the gloom.

"It's fast." Arthur said aloud, following after it. Merlin jumped forward, grabbing at his jacket and pulling him back as the afanc took a swing at him from a side passage he hadn't noticed. "Really fast." He huffed out as he parried another strike from it.

"Arthur, use the torch on it. Steel won't hurt it." Arthur nodded, sheathing his sword and brandishing his torch at the Afanc. The creature shied back, fleeing the dancing red flames. Arthur too another step forward, driving it back. Merlin reached for his magic again, fueling the flames on the torch, guiding them to the flammable flesh of the Afanc.

The creature shrieked in fear and rage as its flesh caught. He wasn't finished though, drawing on his magic again to conjure up a gale force wind, whipping the flames dancing along its flesh into a frenzy, making them burn hotter and brighter.

The Afanc gave one last shriek before it collapsed back on itself, turning to ash that was scattered by the remaining wind. Arthur turned back to look at him. "Who do you think sent it?" Merlin didn't even ask how he came to that conclusion. He knew it had been sent. There wasn't enough magic here in Camelot for it to have been created naturally.

"I don't know, but I think you mean who was it sent for?" Was it sent for Arthur, Ygraine, or Uther because of the alliance, or for him, the Druid? It would take some time to figure out who had sent it. In the meantime, he would rather sit.

He did just that, sitting heavily as the magic he had used today took its toll on his strength. With his draining from yesterday combined with today, his stores were nearly depleted. "You alright?" Arthur asked, coming to stare down at him.

"Yeah, but I think I overdid it." Arthur just arched a brow as if saying 'you think'. He smiled wryly up at him. Arthur sighed, but still helped him up.

News of their victory was greeted with much enthusiasm and cheering. Arthur maneuvered them through the grateful crowd of people, helping a lagging Merlin to his rooms. Eventually, people noticed Merlin state and they left them to make their slow progress through the castle.

In his rooms with the door shut, he helped the pale Druid undress to his underclothes, and into bed. "I really hope you don't plan to make this a habit." He joked, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Oh, shut up, Prat." He griped, but he still smiled at him.

"Get some sleep, Merlin. We can't have you fainting on us tomorrow." He dodged Merlin's swatting hand and, ruffling his hair playfully, left the room.