Just once Merlin wanted to be able to lie back in his bed and immediately fall asleep. He didn't think that was asking for too much, but apparently his mind did not agree.

The sorcerer was gone, the tower was empty, and somehow the young warlock had managed to brush aside Gaius' prodding inquiries. But ever since he'd laid down his thoughts had been running wild. There were just too many questions he had left, and now that the sorcerer's belongings were gone, there was no possibility of any answers.

Turning over onto his side with a sigh, Merlin pulled his pillow over his head and glared at his floor. No matter what he tried he just could not make himself sleep. He'd tried distracting himself, tried reading a boring tome he'd borrowed from Gaius, he'd even tried counting sheep like his mother used to tell him to do when he was a child. Only every time he would start to drift off his thoughts would pull another inquiry out from the darkest recesses of his mind, and he was left floundering all over again. He was driving himself mad.

Flipping over onto his back and letting his pillow drop to the floor, Merlin stared up at his ceiling in irritation. Why had the sorcerer been watching him? And how had he never noticed? He was usually careful, but he must have missed something at some point. And what about Arthur? Was the sorcerer's veiled threat against the prince real, or had it just been a way to manipulate the boy to get him to leave?

Groaning quietly, Merlin's hands lifted to his face as he dug his fingers into his hair. He wanted to talk to someone about it all, to bounce ideas off of them and hear what they thought, but he had no one that he could go to. Gaius would be furious if he found out about it all now, and the more time that passed the more Merlin felt guilty about bringing it up. And he couldn't go to the prince, Arthur had made that abundantly clear.

"It's a good thing that this happened. We never should have messed with what was in that tower in the first place." The man had said.

"What about the answers you wanted? We can't just pretend that the tower never existed!" Merlin had tried to argue, but the prince's jaw had set, and he'd waved a hand at the boy that had indicated the conversation was over.

"I don't want to hear another word about this, Merlin."

"But—"

"Not another word!"

Sitting up in his bed and letting the blanket bunch up in his lap, the warlock stared in annoyance at his closed door. He couldn't just forget about it all, how could he? Ever since he'd learned that Camelot had a court sorcerer, there had been a piece of the boy that had felt connected to them.

At some point, a ruler of the kingdom had trusted magic enough to put someone in such a position. And while Arthur knew nothing of Merlin, the warlock had a hope in the back of his mind that one day maybe they could be the same.

Turning his head and letting his gaze shift to his wardrobe, the events of the day played back through Merlin's mind. Did the sorcerer know of what he'd taken? In all the mess of his things, had one missing journal gone unnoticed?

Throwing back his covers and climbing out of his bed, Merlin padded quietly across the room and pulled open the cupboard door. Sliding his hands between the folded tunics, his fingers curled around the brittle leather of the cover and eased it from its hiding place. Holding it up and turning it over in his hands, Merlin retrieved a candle from his dresser and with a quietly uttered spell had enough light to see by.

Settling in front of his door and pushing his back against the panels, the warlock set the light beside him and carefully cracked open the book. The parchment crinkled beneath his touch, and the first yellowed page was blank aside from a single word written in swooping letters that he recognized as the sorcerer's scrawl.

"Ralcade." The boy murmured aloud, trailing his finger over the curved name.

Turning the page and smoothing it down with care, Merlin began to study the text that filled the journal. Most of what filled the pages were as indecipherable as everything else the sorcerer had owned, but there were a few spells scattered throughout written in a tongue he understood.

The spells themselves were entirely new to him, and the boy found himself returning again and again to the ones he'd never seen before. He was unsure if the magic was something the sorcerer had created himself or had been experimenting with, but as he closed the book in thought, the warlock finally decided who he could ask about it all.

Taking a few moments to slip on socks and his boots, Merlin kept the journal close as he blew out the candle and slowly pulled open his door. The rest of their home was bathed in darkness from the late hour, and the boy could just make out his guardian where he slept on his cot on the other side of the room.

Creeping through the door and towards the next, Merlin kept as far away from the work benches as he could in an effort to not wake the physician. Pulling open the second door and sliding through, a breath of relief escaped him as the warlock closed the door softly and started down the stairwell.

The rest of his trip was easy and had been done enough times in the past that Merlin knew the routine of the guards and eased past them with little trouble while retrieving a torch. Keeping the journal pressed tight against his side and his bedclothes, the boy made his way down the winding steps until the cool, dark cavern came into view.

Stepping out until he could see the expanse of the cave, Merlin waved the torch around while gripping the book tighter. "Hello?" He called out, his voice echoing against the stone walls and jagged rocks. "I need to ask you something!"

Shuffling a step closer, the sound of large, flapping wings drew Merlin's attention above him as the great dragon eased down and came to rest on an outcropping of boulders before him.

"Ah, young warlock. I did not think I would see you again so soon." The dragon crooned, his head moving closer to look at the boy. "Tell me, how is Uther recovering from his lovely bride?" Deep, roaring laughter filled the cavern after the creature's question, and Merlin's lips pressed tightly together as the dragon continued to cackle.

"Alright," The creature spoke after several moments when his laughter finally died down. "I can see that something is troubling you. What have you come to ask of me now?"

Holding out the journal, Merlin lifted the torch higher. "Did you know?"

"Did I know what, young warlock?" The dragon questioned, his voice patient as he looked with little interest at the book the boy held.

"About the court sorcerer. The one who lived in a tower in the citadel."

Pulling back, the creature readjusted himself on the stones and stared down at Merlin in contemplation. "You learned of him from that book?"

"It's his. I met him." The warlock spoke tersely, dropping his arm and causing the journal to bump against his thigh. "Why did you never tell me that Camelot had a court sorcerer once?"

"It was not of importance." The dragon uttered while one of his wings stretched out before curling back in.

"Not important? You didn't think that I'd want to know a sorcerer lived here? That a sorcerer was trusted in Camelot?" Merlin demanded, his voice rising in frustration as the creature's head dipped down again.

"Magic once thrived in this very kingdom, which is why it must be returned. Which is why you must return it."

"That's all you have to say?" The boy scoffed while the torch in his hand grew heavier. "This is one of his journals that I found before he took everything away. Who is he? Who is this Ralcade?"

"A dark and twisted man." The dragon sighed, a heavy breath of air hitting the boy as Merlin struggled to hold back a grimace. "Not even a man, truly."

"Well then what was he?"

"I cannot say."

Anger began to boil up inside the warlock, and Merlin found his confusion giving way to irritation. "Why can't you ever give me a straight answer?" He shouted, the torch wavering between them.

"I cannot tell you, because I do not know." The creature said evenly, old and wizened eyes studying the boy as the warlock's shoulders fell.

"Can you at least tell me who appointed him? Was he friends with Uther?"

At the question, another roaring laugh echoed out of the dragon. "No one is friends with Uther." The dragon chortled on, highly amused just at the thought alone.

"Well, isn't there anything you can tell me?" Merlin pled, feeling worse than when he'd first gotten there. "What about this?" Kneeling down, the warlock placed the journal carefully on the ground and flipped through the pages before he was picking it back up and holding it open towards the creature. "These symbols, I don't know what they are, but I've seen them before. The sorcerer, Ralcade, he cursed a scarf of mine with these same runes. Can you tell me what they mean?"

The dragon's laughter died down again, and the creature stretched closer while his eyes narrowed. "That is written in the language of the ancients," The dragon hummed, his large claws digging into the stone. "The sorcerer is old. Incredibly so. It would be wise to keep away from him and his things."

"It's too late for that." Merlin frowned, dropping the book against his leg again. "Arthur and I, we discovered the tower weeks ago. Now everything he had is gone, everything but this journal. He claimed to have been watching me, and the way he spoke of Arthur was unsettling."

The dragon stared grimly at the boy for a few silent moments, nothing but the flickering of the warlock's torch between them filling the empty air. "You must protect the prince, young warlock, as is your destiny." The creature finally spoke. "The sorcerer is not your concern."

"And if he threatens me, or Arthur? Is it my concern then?" Merlin demanded, staring up at the great dragon in frustration. "Help me to read this, maybe there is something in this book that will tell me more or will give me something that I can use in the future."

"The language of the ancients is not meant to be understood by men." The creature said carefully, his great body shifting against the rocks yet again.

"Are you saying that Ralcade was an ancient?" Merlin asked, staring hard at the dragon. Something felt off, like he was hiding something, or he was working too hard to choose his words carefully.

"Ralcade is nothing even close." Disgust lingered in the dragon's voice, and his mouth twisted into a snarl. "To seek the knowledge you do requires more than you know. The price is steeper than you would wish to pay."

"What is the price? Why is everything you say just riddles?" The warlock cried, lowering the torch again as his arm grew tired.

"You are straying down a dangerous path, young warlock." The dragon sighed, another breath of air ruffling the boy's hair. "Would you put both your destiny and your life on the line just to see where it leads?"

Opening his mouth to respond, something in the boy made him pause as Merlin's eyes dropped to the ground. His own life? Perhaps. But risking his destiny, that surely meant Arthur's life, and was he willing to go as far as that?

"Study the runes as you will, but heed my warning, Merlin. Not all knowledge should be learned."

Looking back up, the warlock could only stare as the creature shifted again and the dragon's wings stretched out. In moments, the dragon was flying up and disappearing out of sight, the sound of rattling chains following after him.

Standing in his place for several seconds longer, Merlin finally turned and made his way out of the cave. He was grateful when he finally left the heavy torch behind, but he was disheartened by their conversation. Where he thought he'd get answers, he'd only been given more questions.

Slipping into one of the halls, Merlin started wearily back towards the physician's chambers before he paused once again and glanced over his shoulder in the other direction. Gripping the journal tightly, the boy turned abruptly around and strode through the corridor away from his home.

Before long, the warlock was climbing the winding stairwell that led to the tower, and he stopped as he reached the top where the balcony overlooked the forest. The moon was out in all its glory, and light bathed over the stone and the boy as Merlin looked out at the trees.

Would the sorcerer come back now that he'd gotten his things, or would he leave them be? And why had he even left them in the first place? Holding the journal up towards the light, Merlin ran his thumb across the cracked cover as his resolve settled around a plan he hadn't realized he'd formed.

Turning away from the balcony, the boy gripped the book and stalked towards the tower door. Pushing it open and stepping inside, a piece of the warlock waited with bated breath for Ralcade to step out from the shadows to greet him. However, nothing had changed since the afternoon before. Emptiness and dust were all the tower contained.

Walking inside and straight up to the towering windows that allowed the moonlight to flood in across the floor, Merlin cracked open the journal and tilted it towards the light. Flipping through the pages, he stopped at a spell near the middle of the book that took up over half a page. It was written in a language he knew, and as he tracked his fingers over the words, a small grin rose to his face. When he'd read it in passing he hadn't thought much of it, but now he had a use for it.

Setting the book down on the windowsill and taking a step back, the warlock's eyes ran over the letters several times while he murmured the words to himself. Merlin had seen barrier spells before, but this was one of the court sorcerer's own design. Not only was it supposed to be useful in keeping people out, but according to the swooping scrawl, it could be tailored to a single person.

Murmuring the spell a few more times until he was certain he knew it, the boy took another step back and drew in a deep breath. Stretching out his hands until either palm was facing a wall, Merlin splayed his fingers and let out the breath.

"Berbay odothay arisan yeldo, bebuge me. Nim bod min þissere, Ralcade drycræft þe þinan deorcan!"

The feeling of old magic began to fill the room, as did a sensation that Merlin could not describe. It was powerful though, washing over the boy like an ocean's wave, until suddenly a word popped into his mind.

Ancient. That's what it felt like. Old, and powerful, and ancient.

Stumbling back a step at the flood of magic, Merlin looked around him as two golden threads of light looped across the room, tracing around the doors and the windows and spiraling around the stairs. The warlock stood in awe as the thin light flashed past him, curling near his feet before shooting off in the opposite direction. The two threads met in the middle of the ceiling right above the boy's head, and as the two collided the threads vanished entirely, leaving the room as dark and empty as before.

Turning his head away and looking around, Merlin's hand moved gently through the air. He could no longer see the threads, but the magic was strong throughout the room. Whatever the sorcerer was capable of, however powerful he was, the boy had to wonder if he'd anticipate this. If he'd expect his own spells to be used against him.

Walking back over to the journal and closing it, Merlin held it close while he began to pace slowly around the tower until he heard one of the boards creak beneath his feet. Kneeling above a section of the floor that lay only inches from the room at the back, the warlock pried up a piece of the wood and peered into the small space below. Just as he'd managed to hide the book that Gaius had given him, now the boy hid the journal.

Setting the book down carefully and pushing it as far out of sight as he could, Merlin replaced the panel and made sure it was secure before he stood and brushed his hands against his trousers. The tower had contained the essence of magic long before the boy had cast the barrier spell, and as Merlin looked around the empty room, a spark of excitement shot through him.

Once upon a time the sorcerer had lived there, had practiced and experimented with his magic, but that was all over now. Ralcade would no longer be able to return to the tower, and while Arthur had been adamant that they never speak of it again, and the dragon had warned him against it, Merlin's mind was racing.

He would use the tower himself. He would find a way to translate the journal lying hidden beneath him, and he would do so without putting his destiny at risk. Merlin would prove them all wrong, one way or another, and he would learn what it was that both Ralcade and the dragon seemed to be hiding.

A/N

I'm so, so sorry that this took so long you guys. I have been really busy, and I haven't set aside as much time to write as I should be. Also, I know this one is shorter than most, but I felt we needed some underlying story progress and there really wasn't a way I could fit this into a normal chapter.

I do have plans coming up though, and some will even be at your request! So if there's anything that you want to see that you haven't already, let me know! I'll try to work in any prompt you give me!

Leave a review or a comment if you're so inclined, they really are my favorite thing to look forward to, and I'll see you guys in the next one!