I do not much care for stories. It is not that I don't enjoy them, for they can be very entertaining at times. Instead, I have come to find that stories (no matter how good) leave out the best bits and pieces of a tale.

So, no, I will not be telling you a story. Rather, I will tell you what I remember.

Yes, yes...this old bird lived long enough to tell the tale. Hard to believe, I know. But, it is true. If it wasn't, then I assure you that I would not be wasting my time piecing together this tattered memory of mine.

Now, let's see. Where to begin, I wonder?

Well, I suppose before you hear what I have to say, you need to know what happened to him.

Merlin Caledonsis is a famous name. One I am sure you already know. However, not many know of his story's bitter ending. While his journey from pitiful farmer boy to King Arthur's right-hand mage is one for the history books, there is a tale from his later years that seems to have been forgotten.

The history books don't mark the day the wizard locked himself away in the Emerald Tower. No one recalls when the letters to his friends and colleagues began to dwindle. Nor do they remember when the King sent his most trusted ally to search the Emerald Tower for his dearest friend.

However, every scholar can recite the letter the magnificent mage left behind.

People were unsure at first but, in time, there was no denying the strange shadow the miraculous mage left in his wake. His magic lingered there. Every mage could sense it and even humans felt an odd presence living there.

Yet, no matter how hard they tried, no one could find the amulet Merlin spoke of. Many began to wonder if the mage had left the letter as a cruel joke. Or perhaps, the amulet hid elsewhere in the Kingdom and the magic locked inside the Emerald Tower were remnants of something else. Then, centuries passed and Merlin's amulet became lost with time.

Or, at least, that is how the story goes. There is more to the tale of the famous wizard - however, that is not the one you want to hear, is it?

Well, settle down, child, and let me think...

History changed for the better on a sunny day lying in Spring, I believe.

Clear skies beamed down on the Emerald Tower as the people gathered inside of its jeweled belly. With them, they brought cheers and laughter that echoed throughout the winding halls.

I remember being late to the Novice Ceremony. I had made it a habit for years, I'm afraid. It wasn't anything personal. I'm sure I would have still enjoyed the mischievous show the Novices performed. But as an old friend of mine used to preach;

"Once you've seen three, you've seen them all."

While the Ceremony opens with the promise of whimsy, I find that the same spell seems to repeat itself.

I don't mean to sound dated. Alas, mages in my day were urged to create their own, unique spells to show off their strengths. Now, as long as a young witch can light a candle with the flick of her wand, she is deemed the Novice of the Century.

Call me a bitter, old bird if you want. But, I assure you there was nothing unique about the Novice Ceremony. Hadn't been for a long time, in fact. It had become a boring array of cantations that I would rather trade in for an extra moment of shut-eye any given day.

That being said, I always made it an effort to appear near the end.

You see, after every Novice had performed their best spell, they were to be chosen by a master of the arts and promoted to an Apprentice. It is an old sort of ritual, but one I am glad they carry on with.

After all, there are some things schools cannot teach and what better way for one to learn than listening to their elders? However, while it is an honor for one to be chosen as a mage's Apprentice, I believe every Novice out there secretly wishes to be taken in by a Grand Mage.

There were four, at the time. Two witches and two wizards who worked directly under the King. They acted as his council, head of guard, and rulers of the smaller provinces of the land. People deemed them the most powerful - but I've seen better.

Only the best Novices were chosen to be the Apprentice of a Grand Mage. I am sure you remember some of them - if not, all. Though, the Grand Apprentice I speak of was not chosen traditionally. In fact, no Grand Apprentice had been chosen that year - at least, not straight away.

Ah, yes. Believe it or not, the most prestigious celebration in all the Kingdom had been rudely disrupted by an even more astonishing event. Still to this day, people say that while the young witches and wizards of the land performed their best tricks in witchery, another was changing history.

That day, I remember perching myself on my favorite windowsill hidden on the west side of the Emerald Tower. It was the perfect spot. Not too far from the jeweled belly where the show took place yet far enough where people couldn't see me.

Fully rested, I was getting comfortable on my perch when the Emerald Tower, suddenly, quaked in fear. It rumbled from the tip of its pointed head all the way down to its concrete toes. Laughter turned to cries while a destructive wave of stars and starlight bellowed through the building's winding halls.

Mischievous winds rattled the earth and caused the sun to quiver. Yet, even as I was blown away, I could not deny the familiarity of it all.

You see, in all my years of visiting the Emerald Tower, I believed I had made friends with the strange magic that lurked there. It was never unkind but I was never foolish enough to mistake that for weakness. For at times, I knew it to be powerful. And, while I was not pleased with being knocked on my tailfeathers, I realized something that no one else had at the time.

Merlin's long-lost amulet had been awakened. The wizard's magic had been freed! An heir had been deemed! Joy would riot through the cities! Parades will be marching! Scholars chanting! And, I...well, I supposed I would return to fluttering wherever I pleased.

Unfortunately, that was not how it played out for me.

As strange as it sounds, the Kingdom grew quiet over the next few days. A lull hovered over the entire land and I was growing ever more curious.

Searching for some sort of news on Merlin's Amulet, I thought that surely the big city of Limerence would be bustling with praise. Yet, all I found were stuck-up witches and wizards who sneered at the mere mention of the day Destiny called.

"What a disgraceful event!"

"A horrid display of magic, indeed."

"It was truly a dishonor to mages everywhere! Alas, did you hear..."

I merely shook my head at them. When did mages become so stuffy, I wondered. They never used to be that way, between you and me. At least, not back in my day.

I decided to turn my beak to the smoky Mountains of Molder. There, in the tar-crusted city of Abernathy, where scholars thrived and inventors flourished, I believed I would have found the creatives toasting as they marked their historical calendars. Instead, the city carried on as it always had.

Scholars chanted on with their teachings. Novices kept their noses in books. Meanwhile, the hard-working Fae-Folk of Abernathy tittered at the wonderful rumor that flew across whispering winds.

"Can you believe?"

"The mages are displeased. Very unhappy, indeed!"

"Goody, goody, then! I say curse the mages and long live the heir."

"Aye! Long live Merlin's Heir!"

Fae-Folk have always been a mysterious lot. Whether they were long-eared elves, sharp-toothed fairies, or fat-nosed dwarves, I never quite understood them. Suppose that is why I left them to their cheering and traveled to the quiet city of Falak.

Unlike the rest of Elysia, those who chose to reside in the small community between the forests always honored the golden days. Don't get me wrong. I applaud those few who invent easier ways of living. Though, I always felt more at ease amongst those living comfortably within the trees.

However, I found that even those who lived far outside the cities had heard a tale rustling in the leaves.

"How is that possible?"

"Can't be true, can it?

"I'm not sure. If it is, then any man, witch, or creature can take it. And, with magic that powerful who knows what will come of it..."

The witch who uttered those cursed words by a cozy fire summoned fear and fury around the fire that night. And, by daylight, I soared to Sonder for answers.

My wings beat tirelessly on calm winds while the evening sun smiled brightly on the city of cobblestone. Unlike the other large cities, Sonder was quite small in comparison. They did not have any grand monuments that compared to the King's Castle lying in Limerence or the towering buildings of Abernathy.

Sonder did not have a lot of schools, either. Other than the pitiful building rotting away on a hill, education obviously did not take priority. Which is perhaps why not many mages lived there. After all, how was one supposed to learn the complexities of magic when they were given so little resources?

It ruffled my feathers, to be honest. Alas, what was I to do? I was only an old owl and nothing more.

Besides, this old bird had something far more important to attend to.

The ache in my chest, you see, did not ease as I flew further down into the city. The people there were clustered together. Some in pairs. Others in groups. Yet, all whispered - not with judgment, or joy, or even fear, mind you.

Instead, it sounded as though they were speaking with plain interest.

"Think he's going to do it?" asked a young woman.

A man with fiery, red hair grinned, "I heard he's already there."

A witch with a boring set of silver eyes rolled them heavily. "You can't be serious?"

Oh, but the man was deadly serious and proud to be, it seemed.

"Don't believe me? See for yourself!"

The witch simply waved a lame hand at the dare. I, on the other hand, took it.

"He's at the Hummingbird Diner and, if you ask me, I think he's acting like he's got a good head on his shoulders for once."

No offense to the lad, but I decided that I would be the proper judge of that.

I traveled up and down the streets of the city. Alas, I did not visit Sonder often and became lost easily.

"Mom! Look!"

My gaze got swept up by a little boy clinging to his mother's skirt. Tiny hands pulled her brown dress towards an old, brick house. Few had already beat them to the window the boy so desperately pointed at.

"Hurry! Hurry!" the boy pressed, "Look!"

"I'm coming, Johnny," the mother giggled. "Honestly, you act as though I've never seen the Grand Mage before!"

'Grand Mage?' My gaze fell to the boring home. 'In there?'

The little home was darling, I admit. I'll never forget the dull bricks which were painted a pretty shade of pink nor the lovely arrangement of flowers adorning the square windows. The building was pleasant and cozy yet not something a mage would deem a home.

I thought it best to get a closer look. Usually, I would do this by finding a nice windowsill but, in this case, it seemed every window was preoccupied.

Pixies, gnomes...men, women, children...and even a few older mages were found gathered at every window of the tiny building. Even as I searched, I found them all to be either stolen from another or giving me a boring view into an empty room. I began to get annoyed by this when I discovered another entryway.

A door.

It hid at the back of the house and was not as welcoming as the rounded one in the front. But, it was lying open just enough for me to squeeze through without being seen. I must say, I do not condone breaking in. But, desperate times call for desperate measures!

That is what I said to convince myself, at least.

Guilt weighed heavily on my wings as I shuffled into the home. My shy gaze fell to the splintered wood lying under my talons before sneakily rising to find a rather large kitchen spread out before me.

It wasn't perfect, by any means, but smelled rather lovely. Still, I couldn't help but notice the few flaws it bore.

Cabinets hung awkwardly on cracked stone before leading up to a scarred ceiling. The monster of a stove hissed painfully as I passed and was that a leak I heard coming from the sink?

I did my best to ignore these blemishes as I hopped onto the counter for a better view. There, I found another window. An indoor opening to an even larger room filled with tables and chairs, and a long countertop adorned with even more gorgeous flowers and clear jars of chocolate chip cookies.

Hm, no wonder the kitchen smelled so sweet.

"Go on! Get out!"

A towel snapped against the wooden counter, right next to the cookies I was gazing at. The sudden sound nearly sent me flying out of there. After all, I did not want to be considered a burden much less a filthy critter.

I was just about to take my leave when a woman stepped into view. Her frizzy, brown hair was pinned back from her round face while brown eyes narrowed at the person in front of her. She swatted the towel again.

"Out!" she ordered. "Get out, I say!"

The man bowed his head apologetically before disappearing from my view. It had only taken one step for him to become a floof of light, blonde curls with the bodice of a tall vase of red roses.

"Mrs. Marsh, I do not mean to offend. I am simply asking-"

"I know what you are asking of me," the woman - Mrs. Marsh - hissed, obviously offended. "And, the answer is no!"

Another man came into view. He was burly and, honestly, I would have mistaken him for a dwarf if it had not been for his enormous height. "Donna," he called gently before placing a rough, scarred hand on Mrs. Marsh's shoulder. His expression was kind despite his broad shoulders and thick arms. "Let's hear him out."

Mrs. Marsh bristled at the burly man's gentle words. "Tell me you aren't serious, George!"

George placed his other hand on the back of his neck before his gaze fell to a spot on his dirty apron. His large, pink nose sniffed awkwardly over a puffy, black beard. He remained silent yet the answer was there.

The fluffy haired man made of roses cleared his throat, "I understand that I am asking a lot of you two. After all, I am sure these past few days have not been easy and I apologize for that. Still, this is a delicate situation which no one has been burdened with before. We of the King's Council and even the Scholars of Elysia have thought long and hard about what must be done. Therefore-"

"So, you've all thought it best to take my daughter away from me?"

The words came out quiet. A whisper, almost. Still, they struck their target.

I swore the roses wilted a bit while Mrs. Marsh turned her teary gaze away from them.

"Please, do not think of it like that, Mrs. Marsh."

"But, that is the truth, isn't it?" she sobbed, furiously wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "Apprentices are to live with their teachers, are they not?"

"Yes, but like every other apprentice, Emma will be allowed to come home whenever she pleases."

Mrs. Marsh crossed her arms, her gaze growing colder at his words. "Then, let me ask you this. When you were an apprentice, how often did you visit your home, Grand Mage?"

The high title did not come out respectfully. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

Pure, unfiltered hatred scrunched Mrs. Marsh's soft, round features into a harsh glare. Though tears still pierced her gaze, her expression was one that could send chills rushing down even the bravest man's spine.

The Grand Mage's blonde curls disappeared into the bundle of roses as he dipped his head. "That," he began evenly, his voice growing deeper - far more serious and even a bit menacing, I thought. "-is not important. This is about Emma-"

"No," Mrs. Marsh spat. "No, this is about that stupid amulet!"

"Merlin's amulet carries very, powerful magic-"

"It is just a necklace!"

"-and has yet to be studied-"

"A silly rock!"

"If it were to be taken away too soon or placed in the wrong-"

"It was locked away in a storage room for Arthur's sake!"

"-and that is why it is vital that Emma learns to control her ma-"

"Don't!"

An accusing finger pointed at the Grand Mage. However, it trembled terribly despite how firm Mrs. Marsh's next words were. "Do not utter another word, Peridot."

"Donna," George warned. And, he was right to do so.

Though no danger had come about in a long time yet, I assure you that it was never and will never be a good idea for a human to challenge a mage.

Mrs. Marsh did not heed the good man's warning and, instead, took a step further.

"How dare you?" she seethed. "How dare you come to my house and tell me what my daughter needs to do? Emma is a good girl. A good, human girl and no mere necklace is going to change that! Take it, if you are so worried. Study it yourself, if you must! But, don't you ever come to me with such nonsense again."

By the time Mrs. Marsh had finished, she had come face to face with the bundle of roses that I saw as the Grand Mage. Her gaze still burned with anger while she took a shaky breath in.

"I DID IT!"

Everyone in the diner stiffened at the bubbly voice that bounced through the home. Even I nearly exposed myself when bellowing stomps came tumbling down the staircase hiding in the corner of the diner. With them, came deafening chants and triumphant laughter.

"I did it! Mom! Dad! Hurry! Come look! Look at what I can do- ooh!"

The girl that came hopping down the staircase couldn't have been older than twelve. With her, was an odd-looking rabbit who thought sliding down the railing would be much more fun. The two had come to a sudden halt when they caught the three adults standing stiffly.

Brown eyes widened ever so slightly on the bouquet of roses. "Grand Mage..."

This time, the mage's title came out in an awed whisper. Alas, the girl's starstruck expression didn't last long.

With a squeal, she straightened. Her entire face turned a bright shade of pink. Meanwhile, one hand flew to her neck before the other hid behind her back.

'How odd.' I hummed as I leaned forward. My head poked inside of the diner in hopes of getting a better look. It wasn't my brightest idea, I realized. Especially as the odd-looking rabbit turned its sapphire gaze my way.

I tried to avoid the creature's gaze when, suddenly, the young girl bowed forward and - Aha! There!

Peeking over her stiff shoulders was a wand - a thin, pitiful excuse of a wand but still. It was strange seeing the mystical tool sitting in the human girl's hand. But, even stranger it was to see the magic I knew so well fizzling out from its splintered end.