Paperlegends: The Raven Knife (2)
Masterpost
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 & Epilogue
Sunlight streamed through the window of their bedroom the next morning. Merlin woke up before Arthur. He was actually looking forward to the day even though it was another horrid Monday. He felt something good would happen to him. Or maybe in his case, ‘good’ meant another strange thing?
That definitely wouldn’t surprise him.
He nudged Arthur to get him to wake up. “Hey Arthur.”
Arthur woke up slowly, rubbing at his eyes. When he looked at Merlin, he said quietly, almost in a strangely guilty sounding voice, “I’m sorry about your father.”
Merlin peered at Arthur oddly. “Where did that come from?” he wondered. “He died years ago. I don’t understand why you’re bringing this up now.”
Merlin couldn’t help but remember that last bit of his dream where Arthur was hoping he’d forgive him for something. Could what Arthur had just said be related to that?
Arthur’s eyes widened, then he shook his head as if trying to forget whatever had been on his mind. “Forget it. It was nothing. Some weird dream I’ve already forgotten.”
“All right,” said Merlin, his voice trailing off.
At least he wasn’t the only one experiencing odd dreams, but he sensed that Arthur’s dream was not one he would easily share. Merlin decided to go along with what his magic suggested, to keep quiet about the increased strangeness he’d been dealing with. He needed time himself to sort it out before letting Arthur in.
Merlin kissed Arthur on the lips before he got dressed. “Aren’t you going to get ready, Arthur?” he asked him since Arthur was still lying in bed.
“In a moment,” said Arthur curtly. “I just have this bloody headache. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Merlin asked him in concern. “I can get you --”
Arthur interrupted him, a little too harshly in Merlin’s opinion. “I’m fine! Just leave me.”
“Okay,” Merlin surrendered. “I can see you’re grumpy this morning.”
When Merlin was about to leave the bathroom, to his relief, he heard Arthur moving about in their room. Finally Arthur was getting ready. Merlin wondered just what this weird dream of Arthur’s had been about.
He was heading down the stairs when a case of vertigo hit him and he lost his balance. But he felt his magic aid him so he wouldn’t fall down the steps and hurt himself.
Afterwards, Merlin sat down on the stairs as he waited for the unpleasant sensation to pass.
“Thanks, Athena,” he said silently to his magic. “Do you know what caused that vertigo?”
“Maybe you just need to eat something,” she said practically.
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Seriously,” he said. “If that were the reason, I’d be dealing with this every morning. But I don’t,” he stated reasonably. “I was thinking. Maybe I won’t get more anxiety attacks because I have you, my magic. You’re what I’ve lost.”
“While that would be nice, I’m not sure the attacks will end. I told you before that I’ve always been with you even if you didn’t know it. I’m just awake now. I think what you’re missing is much greater than realizing you have me,” she decided, and Merlin wished Athena would lie to him because he didn’t want to dread the next anxiety attack that would come.
“Maybe,” Merlin conceded very reluctantly.
He just badly wanted to be optimistic and be reassured that he’d not get an anxiety attack again.
Feeling better, Merlin stood up and went down the rest of the stairs. Curiously, he looked to his forearm to check if the Compass was still there.
It was.
And the Compass had a message on it.
You have an important meeting today.
Merlin was convinced that his instincts had been right. Something good would happen today.
Arthur worked at DragonGuard Systems, a computer security company, which had helped to build and now it was a thriving business. While most days, he enjoyed going into work, today he felt awful. The shadow of that dream he had thankfully forgotten still haunting him. He had witnessed something terrible, something he so dearly wished he had never seen.
So he was relieved that now he couldn’t remember whatever ghastly thing he had seen. That was one dream or nightmare he didn’t want ever again.
He couldn’t even remember why he had said those words about Merlin’s father to Merlin. Where had that come from?
He did his best not to let his confusion about that dream distract him from his work.
When he returned to his office after a meeting, he found his chair turned around. He hadn’t been expecting anyone.
“Excuse me, who the hell are you?” Arthur demanded, hoping the stranger would face him.
The chair swiveled around so Arthur could finally see the person.
Arthur stepped back in shock.
The person looked like him. What the hell? Except for the unnerving pure black eyes, the man was a dead ringer for him. He was wearing a dark suit with a light purple shirt and silver tie. A black fedora was on his head. The man was clearly wealthy judging by his expensive-looking outfit. Arthur should know since he came from a wealthy family.
“How…why do you look like me?” Arthur uttered in disbelief.
His look-a-like looked at him coldly. “I’m here to tell you that you may have had some power in your past life but, in this life, you’re nothing more than a common man. I’m running things now. And you’re not getting in my way. Are we clear on that?”
Arthur stared at him, beyond puzzled by what this strange look-a-like was on about. “What…? I don’t understand.”
“Simply put, I hate you,” his look-a-like clarified. Unhelpfully in Arthur’s opinion.
Then the odd black-eyed man disappeared as if by magic. A stunned Arthur was left in his wake.
What did he ever do to this man who he had never met before?
~ * ~
While Merlin had been anticipating an important meeting, he didn’t know who it was with or what it would be about. The Diamantine Compass was silent on the matter to Merlin’s dismay. He worked at a book publishing company, The Sword of the Phoenix, as a designer. By the end of the day, he was feeling wrung out creatively.
So Merlin gratefully retreated into his office. He was so distracted with his thoughts that he didn’t notice that someone else was in the office with him.
It was only when Athena spoke up, saying that he wasn’t alone, that Merlin nearly jumped in surprise at the man standing in front of his desk.
The dark-haired man looked to be only a little older than Merlin himself. Definitely in his thirties at least. He had bit of a scruff, and his blue eyes seemed to hold a wealth of emotion and burden. While the man was wearing an average suit - shirt, jacket, trousers - but no tie, Merlin couldn’t shake the feeling that the man was not even human.
Maybe due to all that had been happening to him lately, Merlin swore that the man was surrounded by an ever-steady, pulsating magic. It was surreal to see. And Merlin just knew that he wasn’t hallucinating. He had to open his mind now to accepting the strange. It was the only way he could deal with his perception of reality being turned upside down. He had to embrace these new facts of his life.
“You’re looking much better than the last time we first met, Merlin,” the magic-enveloped man indicated conversationally.
Merlin was close to just standing there, staring at the stranger. What did he mean by meeting him before?
“Sorry, but I don’t think I’ve met you,” Merlin replied slowly, his brow furrowed. “Who are you?”
“Oh, excuse me. You haven’t yet…nevermind. My name is James,” James introduced himself.
He extended his arm so Merlin could shake his hand. Merlin shook James’ hand, albeit he still had reservations.
“And how do you know me?” Merlin asked him.
“Because we’re family, Merlin. At least, I still consider you family. I’m your uncle,” James informed him.
“You’re my what?” Merlin uttered in shock, reeling.
What unnerved him the most was that there was something about the man that wasn’t human…and yet, this person, James, was his uncle.
James was eleven years old when his Father, the God of Magic, took him away from his royal mother to live in the Heavens. He loved his mother very much, so he was sad to leave her and his brothers and sisters. But his Father had said to him that James would soon attain his godly status as he was meant to.
That he was a son of the God of Magic and he should be proud of that. Seeing his Father filled him with awe because he was shaped as a human, but he glowed so strongly that it seemed like he was composed of magic.
Any mortal man or woman who would look upon him in his true form would go mad, he told James. Someone like James’ mother was a special exception. Still, most of the time, his Father kept away from the mortal realms.
To bestow godly status upon him, James was taken to a circular room. The wall that curved around the whole space looked like the blue sky. The ceiling had images of animals and flowers that came alive, it seemed, every time you looked closely enough at them.
“I can not keep this from you, my son. The bestowing of your godly powers may hurt,” his Father explained to him.
“It will?” James asked, feeling especially anxious now.
“Yes, but do not worry,” his Father then reassured him with a smile and calming hand on his shoulder. “I have a solution for it, and you will not feel the pain if you do one simple thing.”
“What is that?” James asked.
His Father waved his hand and a winged horse foaling appeared before him.
The foaling was a Pegasus with a striking appearance. He was snow-white but his wings, mane and tail were a reflective silver colour. The young winged horse was having trouble standing being born not long ago from the look of it.
“He’s beautiful,” James uttered in awe. He immediately went to the young Pegasus and pet him on the head.
“This creature will be yours to look after. He is a magical creature, one of many who serve the gods and the goddesses,” his Father informed him. “You will grow to love him as you would your own family, and this dear Pegasus will serve you happily. As you will grow into adulthood, my son, so will your Pegasus. But as it will be with you, once the creature is at the height of physical excellence, he will become ageless. This is so he can continue to serve you throughout your immortal life.”
“Thank you, Father. I love him. I promise to take good care of him. But what must I do to help to ease the bestowing?”
“You only need to maintain contact with him, and the process will not hurt you,” his Father explained to him. “I promise you that.”
James nodded, showing he understood. He stroked the young Pegasus’s lovely silver mane, and he was pleased that the magical winged creature appeared receptive. He didn’t run away at least and didn’t try to kick at James defensively. Instead, the creature remained relatively still, his coordination improving slowly but surely, and he allowed James to touch him and pet him. The Pegasus was the best gift that James had ever received in his opinion.
As his attention was on his Pegasus, James barely noticed his skin glowing golden as he underwent the change of being elevated to the status of a god.
After the transition was complete, his Father spoke, “It is done, my son. And now you must name your Pegasus a name you find worthy of such a creature.”
James couldn’t help but be surprised that such a small act as contact with a magical creature could keep him from feeling the pain of the bestowing. He had many names in mind for his Pegasus.
He felt at a loss at settling on one name.
“The best name is there, son. Just let it come to you. Let your instinct guide you.”
James closed his eyes and let his mind go free. The name was there. What was it?
He had it.
“Silverlight,” James declared. “The name of my Pegasus is Silverlight.”
“A fine name,” praised his Father.
James couldn’t resist going to embrace his Father in gratitude. His Father hugged him back, though James could tell that he had caught him off guard.
“Thank you, Father. Thank you,” said James sincerely.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad to have you here with me,” he said to him.
His Father then told him that though James had great power now, he must be responsible with that power.
“This is your half-brother, Hephaestion,” his Father later introduced him to his new godly siblings. “And Ceridwen, your half-sister, who I hope will be like a mother to you.”
Hephaestion was so tall and strong to James. Ceridwen was almost as beautiful as his mother, but of course, James was biased to believing no one matched his mother in beauty.
His Father left James in the hands of his siblings. Hephaestion was kind to him, and Ceridwen thought James was a handsome little boy. She remarked that James’ mother must be quite pretty.
“Yes she is,” James acknowledged.
“Well that’s not a surprise,” Ceridwen commented. “She is a Queen after all. You’ll be quite handsome when you grow up, dear one.”
Hephaestion shook his head. “Nevermind Ceridwen, James. She’s an admirer of beauty,” he said in a slight teasing voice.
“Hephaestion! I was only being complimentary. Come along, my little one. Hephaestion and I shall show you around the castle and the grounds.”
She pulled James to her side as if he was her child and started talking in a clear, soothing voice about the different parts of the castle.
James found her presence comforting. Likewise Hephaestion was a solid, reassuring presence to him. James couldn’t help but smile or laugh at some of the antidotes Hephaestion told of his and Ceridwen’s time growing up in their Father’s castle.
When James was older, he dealt with Hephaestion making possibly the worst decision of his life.
“This isn’t love, this is stupidity,” James countered. “How can you give up your place as a god for a mortal woman? What is so special about her?”
“Father accepts it,” Hephaestion said, and then he explained further, “I honestly love this woman, and the only way I can truly be with her, to have a family with her, is if I become a mortal man. I’ll still possess some magic, so not everything will be taken away. A life as a god may be right for you, James, but I feel that it’s not right for me. Being with the woman I love will make me happier than I’ve ever been.”
Still, James did not quite understand his brother’s reasoning. He had never been as in love before or ever really as his brother was. Love was a strange disease, clearly, that made people a bit mad.
“Look,” Hephaestion continued. “I know how hard you try to prove yourself worthy of your status, but you don’t have to prove anything to us, James. No matter how you came to be, you’re still just as strong as Ceridwen and me.” He spoke with finality, as if he were imparting his final reassurances to James.
James couldn’t deny he appreciated the confidence that Hephaestion had in him even as he still doubted himself sometimes.
“You shouldn’t trouble yourself with those worries, my James,” Ceridwen put in. “Once you attained your status as a god, your Queen mother’s humanity didn’t make you weaker, but just served to guide your outlook on life.”
“Thank you,” James said as sincerely as he could muster. The lingering doubt would always stay with him like a curse. He was sure of that. “If you go through with this, Hephaestion, then there’s no going back.”
“I know. That’s why I wanted to say a proper goodbye to the both of you. Since this could be the last time we see each other.”
“Oh Hephaestion, is this all a way to avoid seeing me?” Ceridwen inquired in mock-seriousness. “What shall I do?”
“You’ll still have James to charm with your wit,” Hephaestion retorted with a smile.
James rolled his eyes.
Ceridwen looked unaffected. “I shall survive then,” she decided smoothly. She ruffled James’ hair. “Poor James will have to deal with giving Father grandchildren.”
“Won’t you two having children be enough?” James asked glumly.
Hephaestion and Ceridwen exchanged knowing glances with one another. James didn’t think he’d feel as unhappy as he did now.
Hephaestion was his older brother. He was supposed to stay here with him and Ceridwen. It just wasn’t fair.
After Hephaestion departed the Heavens, James was far from happy. A small part of him also couldn’t bear to see Hephaestion be just a man, prone to sickness, and with any moment being his last.
During his years with his royal mother, James had been sick a fair few times. He knew what it was like to be terribly ill. It was awful. Only the comfort of his beloved mother helped him get through the illnesses of childhood.
From his place in the Heavens, James caused rain to fall. His frustration over his brother’s leaving manifesting in storms within the world Hephaestion had chosen to live in with his mortal wife.
The world of animal souls it was called by some.
But by most, this world was known as the Daemon World.
“I recommend we sit,” James suggested. He waved his hand at the two empty chairs, one behind the desk and another in front of it. “I think you and I can agree that this won’t be a quick conversation. It never is with reunions.”
Merlin was understandably uncertain as to what to do, but he sensed the sincerity in the man’s voice. He believed that this James was telling the truth.
He sat down at his chair behind his desk while James occupied the seat opposite Merlin.
“So you’re my uncle? And according to you, we’ve met yet I don’t remember doing so.”
“Yes. I probably should say uncle by blood in your former life. Your father in your past life was my older half-brother. So I'm truthfully your half-uncle but it's a detail of minor consequence.”
“By past life --” Merlin asked, his eyes narrowing. He felt slightly ridiculous for asking this, but quite a few ridiculous, strange things had happened to him lately. Why not just throw the idea out there? “--are you implying I’ve been reincarnated? And I’m missing memories like meeting you because of that?”
James, his uncle apparently, nodded. “Yes, on both counts. But you regained use of your magic, haven’t you? At this point, you should be able to accept the reality of reincarnation. Numerous human cultures believe in reincarnation after all.”
“Okay. And are you human? You don’t feel human…I see this magic around you…” Merlin confided in him uncertainly. But he didn’t know how else to explain it - there was clearly some magical energy surrounding his alleged uncle from his past life.
“I’m glad to hear that your magical sensing abilities are working,” he remarked, smiling and sounding pleased. “You’re both right and wrong. I’m a god, but I was born to a human woman, a Queen actually. At eleven, I was granted my godly status. Because of that, my human side was overridden by my godly powers. Right now, I’m only symbolically human. I lived with my mother until I was eleven, so I did spend some years living as a human.”
“So you’re immortal then? How old are you?”
“I was born not long before the collapse of the Roman Empire.”
That meant James was a few decades older than the Prince of Darkness. “What are you the god of? Magic?” Merlin guessed randomly based off the magic around his uncle.
James’s mouth twisted into a smile. “No, but close. My father is the God of Magic. I’m the god of unnatural magic. My duty is to keep an eye on humans who possess magic in all the worlds. I’m sure you can guess the differences between natural and unnatural magic. Natural magic is magic immersed in the nature around us - in the flora and fauna. Magic becomes un-natural or out of nature when it’s ‘housed’ inside humans. My role is a guardian of those who have magic like you.”
“That makes sense even though ‘unnatural’ does usually carry a negative association.”
James agreed. “I know, but I’ve learned to live with it.”
“What sort of god was my father then?” Merlin was curious to know. “Did he look over a different type of magic?”
“Yes. His name was Hephaestion, and he was the God of Magic’s - his and my Father’s -- right hand man. He helped out with monitoring natural magic over all worlds. He could travel to all the worlds and be amongst humans when our Father couldn’t. You see, the God of Magic is unable to mingle with humans as any human who sees him will go mad. He is magic, the very source of it. I could understand the intense reaction people could have to just looking upon him. I myself was awed seeing my Father for the first time.”
Merlin could almost believe, no matter how somewhat ridiculous it sounded, that the all-powerful God of Magic was his grandfather. Going off of how fantastical it sounded, it was like he was living in a dream come to life. But he couldn’t deny the truth in James’s words because he did now possess real, honest-to-goodness magic in the form of Athena. That was definitely not a dream. So he had to believe the truth of being descended from a family of divine beings, especially ones who specialized in magic.
“What happened to him? My father from my past life?”
“I admit I thought your father was a bit mad for the choice he made. But you may not have been born if it weren’t for that decision,” James intimated. Then he paused and he added on thoughtfully, “Well, at least you would be a completely different person I would imagine.”
“What happened?” Merlin asked.
“During a trip to one of the worlds, Hephaestion fell in love with a woman. So much so that he wanted to be with her, properly, and have a family with her. As a god, he couldn’t be with a human like that. We may spend time with humans, but we can’t truly be with them in the usual way. As gods, our immortality and agelessness prevent us from simple lives with humans. If we want children with humans, then we can do that, but--”
“Yet you can’t stay, leaving the child without a father,” Merlin finished stiffly, getting the picture quite clearly. He could hear the judgmental tone in his voice. He could never condone that kind of behavior, and it was very unfortunate that gods did such a thing.
He could tell that James had heard the disapproval in his voice by his sheepish smile. “I confess that at that time when Hephaestion left, I had no qualms about that restriction with humans. I was enamored with life as a god that any downsides didn’t bother me. They were small compared to what I could now do as an immortal being with unimaginable power,” James admitted, not quite looking at Merlin.
“Though I’ve since had a change of heart,” he added quickly. Merlin wondered if he was trying to make himself look better in his eyes. “So I can understand your condemnation. It’s not right or fair, but it’s how things must be.”
Merlin nodded, accepting his answer. “I’m guessing that my father requested to be human then? To give up his place as a god?”
“Yes. And our Father let him. I had expected that Hephaestion would take over as God of Magic at some point, allowing Father to retire peacefully. I’m sure by now, Hephaestion would’ve been the God of Magic if things had been different. As it stands, Father still remains in the position. I don’t know what your father said to him. But it was convincing enough to persuade our Father to grant Hephaestion’s wish instead of forcing him to stay.”
“Will he ever retire?”
James shrugged. “A god’s life is a long one. I think he has a few centuries left in him, but I imagine he’d like to ask me or Ceridwen - my older half-sister, your half-aunt - to take his place.”
“And if he asks you?”
“I can’t say no,” he confided in Merlin, sounding like it was a terrible thing to have no choice in the matter. “It would be an honour, true, although I wouldn’t be able to travel to the realms of humans so freely. Great power doesn’t come without some sacrifices like they say.”
“What happened to my father though? How long did he live?”
James frowned, a sadness pervading him that gave Merlin a good idea about the answer. Unfortunately his former father hadn’t grown old as he’d hoped. Then again, the father he had had in this life had passed away of cancer. He never had the chance to know the man. Merlin felt he should have expected an unhappy ending to the life of the father he’d once had.
“He was with you and your mother for four years of your life. I expect they were happy years, and I’m sure he loved you very much. Regrettably, he passed away when you were four years old and your mother raised you on her own. When you regain your memories, you’ll get the whole picture. I don’t like talking about it.”
Merlin desperately wanted to ask the circumstances of his father’s death. If he had died of natural causes, surely James would have just said that? Merlin hated to think his father had been murdered if that’s what his uncle was keeping secret. What a terrible way to die.
“Did my mother from my past life know about his true identity? That he used to be more than human?”
“Quite likely, yes. Whether she believed it or not is another story. You must admit it is an extraordinary tale.”
“Yes I agree there. Is there any chance that my father from this life could have been Hephaestion reincarnated? Even if he had a different name? Would you know?”
“I don’t doubt he was. For me, I couldn’t bear to see Hephaestion reincarnated without his memories,” James admitted to Merlin. “Some people might not even regain their past memories. Your father may have been one of them.”
“Does that mean--?”
Yet Merlin was prevented saying what he had wanted to say by an oncoming anxiety attack. No, he thought. They weren’t supposed to happen when he wasn’t at home. This wasn’t right.
He could hear James stand up abruptly and call his name. But then a vision overcame all his senses.
It was like the end of his dream except fortunately, Merlin was now an invisible observer. He was in the medieval era again. If James was to be believed about reincarnation, then that had to be past incarnations of him and Arthur in these council chambers.
At a long table, Arthur was writing something on a piece of parchment, his jaw tight, and he seemed tense. Though he wasn’t looking directly at the past version of Merlin, Merlin could tell that Arthur’s demeanor was due to him being in the room.
“I’ve learned that Gwydion is very ill. I’m planning to go see him, and I’ll be staying for the wedding, as we agreed,” his other self told Arthur in a business-like voice.
Arthur stopped his writing, and after setting his quill down, he finally set his eyes on the past Merlin who was standing by him.
“Will Gwydion be all right?” Arthur asked, the concern evident in his tone.
His past incarnation looked annoyed, strangely in Merlin’s opinion. Why would he be annoyed when Arthur was only expressing concern as anyone would?
“Why should you care?” the past Merlin shot back in a shockingly sharp tone.
Really, this was unwarranted. First that dream and now this - why was his past incarnation so unforgiving of Arthur?
In answer to the other Merlin’s retort, Arthur remained silent and shifted his gaze away from the other man. Merlin noticed how his jaw clenched as if he was trying to hold back from speaking what he truly wished to say.
“Do you need me to --?” Arthur began to ask, but the past Merlin interrupted him.
“I don’t need you. I have that taken care of,” he told him.
Arthur’s eyes looked wet to Merlin as tears threatened to fall. He pleaded with the past Merlin, his voice trembling as he spoke, “Merlin, please. It’s been five years,” he stressed.
He reached out to touch his past incarnation’s hand. Yet the past Merlin ripped his hand away from Arthur.
“No. No touching. If you’re trying to weaken me by making me fall for this act, then you’re mistaken,” the other Merlin told him firmly.
“It’s not, I swear, Merlin, it’s not an act. I’m sorry, so sorry that I can’t take pleasure in anything anymore…” Arthur tried to defend himself. He sounded so desperate that it made Merlin’s heart ache.
Though Arthur looked like he would continue, the past Merlin turned away from him and he disappeared magically from the room.
The last image Merlin was left with was of Arthur’s miserable-looking face. One solitary tear fell down his cheek as he despondently stared at the empty spot the past Merlin had disappeared from.
Then Merlin woke up.
~ * ~
Ceridwen (Merlin's half-aunt)
He was surprised to see that he wasn’t in his office, but he was lying in bed instead.
Admittedly, seeing Arthur’s expression definitely made Merlin feel frustrated with his past incarnation for placing Arthur in such a state. He wished more than anything to find out the cause of this distance. When he regained his memories, he’d hopefully get his wish. And then he couldn’t help but conclude that these memories are what he had lost. What had been causing these anxiety attacks. The reasoning made sense.
He looked to his right to discover a pretty redhead at his bedside. He could also see magic surrounding her like an aura as he’d experienced with James. Yet Merlin also heard a soft, lilting music due to her close proximity. He idly wondered if she was a siren since the musical nature of her presence was enchanting. He guessed that she was Ceridwen, the half-aunt James had mentioned.
“Hello, Merlin. I’m your Aunt Ceridwen. James had to step out, but he should be back soon. Are you feeling all right, my dear?” she asked him.
Merlin sat up slowly. “I feel okay, I think. A bit of a headache. I’ve never had an anxiety attack at work. I don’t know why I had it,” he said with a sigh. “James said you were my half-aunt.”
Ceridwen waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, half-aunt, aunt, reincarnation or not, we’re still family. I was quite fond of Hephaestion, as James was too. Hephaestion was my younger brother. I always thought he was meant to take Father’s place. He was an excellent mediator, which was useful when James and I got into arguments. James can be incorrigible sometimes.”
“So my father was a middle child?”
Ceridwen nodded. “I wasn’t sure how James and I would go on without him when he left to live a mortal life. But we strived to make the new arrangement work. I was like a mother to James, being so much older than him and he was still a child when he came to be with us. He needed a motherly influence. Unfortunately sometimes we were at odds with each other. Nothing extraordinary, I expect. Humans have similar conflicts.”
“The stories my mum could tell…” Merlin contributed with a small smile. “She’d agree with you. I had my less than admirable moments.”
His aunt smiled at him.
“Where am I exactly? This place feels different, like I’m far away from home than I’ve ever been before.”
“You’re still in your world, but it’s a space strictly designated for gods and goddesses, the non-human realm so to speak or a Heaven. Each world has its own Heaven. These Heavens are for us gods and goddesses to stay in if we don’t want to enter the human realm when we visit another world. We also have our own world, the main Heaven, that’s solely meant for gods and goddesses. This Heaven is its own separate world like your world. It is therefore the biggest. That is where I, James and your father grew up and lived on a daily basis.”
“Heaven? I’m in Heaven? I thought the only time I’d be here is when I died. I’m not dead, am I?”
“No, no,” she was quick to assure him. “You’re still very much alive. James just wanted you to recover comfortably. We’ll make sure you return to where you were and no one will notice your absence. We can bend time a little, so don’t worry about that.”
“Whose home is this? James’s?”
Ceridwen confirmed his suspicions, “Yes. This castle of his is relatively small, at least in this world. The grandness of the dwellings largely depends on the belief of humans in the world a Heaven is connected to.”
“And in my world, the general population doesn’t believe in real magic.”
Ceridwen nodded. And then she added, “Also, the belief in multiple gods and goddesses isn’t as strong as it used to be centuries ago in your world. That makes the Heaven of your world considerably smaller. In comparison, my Father, James and I have the biggest castles in the Heaven of the World of Magic. The people there believe in us so strongly. Since they all possess magic, there is no room for denying our existence.”
“The World of Magic sounds like somewhere I’d like to go,” Merlin mused.
“It may not be the best idea. You’ll probably find it hard to leave. I myself feel that way.”
“You have a point there. My fiancé wouldn’t be happy with me escaping to a different world. Maybe I can get him to agree to come with me.”
“That would be quite the entertaining conversation,” Ceridwen remarked with a chuckle.
Merlin agreed. “If I can ask, what sort of goddess are you?” He wondered curiously. “James told me he was the god of unnatural magic. You have a specialty, or whatever you call it, too, right?”
“Of course you can ask me that. Not a problem at all. I’m the goddess of creative magic. The main role I play is insuring humans have their muses. Creativity, inspiration and imagination help to advance humanity, after all. Where would humans be without the ability to think outside of the box? It’s my duty to keep creativity thriving. My favorite creative mind is that of Leonardo Da Vinci. Although I fear I need a new favorite. It has been a long while since his lifetime, hasn’t it?” Ceridwen asked reflexively.
“Well for me, it has been, but I know with you being immortal…it doesn’t seem as long. It’s been five hundred years, I think, since Da Vinci’s time.”
“Don’t worry. Five hundred years feels like a long time to me too. I certainly feel my age every so often.”
“And yet you don’t look a day over twenty.”
“It must be the new cream I’ve been using,” Ceridwen played along, smiling in amusement. “You’re too kind. I thank you for the compliment. You know you don’t have to embellish your words. I consider you my nephew. You can speak the truth.”
“I was sincere. I promise,” Merlin said.
She smiled at him in gratitude, and then she placed a hand upon his cheek. “Even as an incarnation, you still have your father’s eyes. I would never be able to forget those eyes. Such perceptive, wise eyes. You weren’t able to know your father in this life?”
“Unfortunately, no. He died of cancer before I was born. My mum told me his name was Phillip.”
“What a shame,” she remarked sadly. “I’m sure he loved you very much despite not properly meeting you.”
“That’s what my mum always tells me,” Merlin said with a sigh. “It’s her way of making me feel better about never knowing him. She only has good things to say about him.”
“As any good mother would,” Ceridwen remarked with a half smile. She stood up then. “Well I must go. It was a great pleasure to meet you, Merlin. I hope you have a nice summer.”
She leaned down and kissed him on the brow. Oddly enough, Merlin didn’t mind the close contact. After the conversation with Ceridwen, he had easily accepted her as his aunt. It just felt right to him. Like he had known her all his life.
Ceridwen left the room. Merlin climbed out of bed. He knew it would be intruding, but since he was alone in the room now; why not have a look around?
The room overall had an ordinary appearance except for the ceiling which was unlike any ceiling Merlin had ever seen outside of a Harry Potter movie. Above him was a clear blue sky with clouds floating leisurely on past.
There were framed portraits on the walls, and Merlin thought there was no harm in looking at them. They were there to be looked at, after all. He did notice that something on the far wall had been covered with blue curtains. Biting his lip, and feeling undoubtedly curious, he went over to it. Were the curtains hiding a painting? He couldn’t help but think of “The Secret Garden” and how the portrait of Colin’s mother had been veiled off from sight. He tried to shove the curtain aside, and then remembering that he had his magic, he used Athena’s help in unraveling the hidden painting or whatever it was.
But even with Athena, the curtains remained in place. They only glowed golden for a moment before the glow faded and left the mystery behind the curtains a continued secret.
He sighed, and stepped away from it. He had gotten the message loud and clear. Better move on and find something else to occupy his attention.
Merlin was drawn to one big family portrait to the right of the door. He smiled upon seeing his father as he’d never seen him before. After all, he’d only seen photos of him that his mother kept in her albums. Never in a painting, and never with a fiery crown on his head.
In the portrait, the depiction Merlin believed to be of the God of Magic was on his throne in the middle. His three children were positioned in order of age. Ceridwen was at the left, Hephaestion was behind his father, and James was the last one at the right. Ceridwen was donned in a royal purple dress with a crown of gold upon her head. James wore robes of blue and silver with a silver crown on his head. The God of Magic was the most striking of the four in the painting.
James had been right about intense reactions when seeing the God of Magic for the first time. While the god possessed a human shape, he was composed of purely golden energy to the point where bits of energy sparked off him like an energetic fire. Merlin could make out his face, but his hair was hard to discern as the gold of his hair blended in too well with the rest of his being. The God of Magic’s eyes looked like the finest white diamonds had been slotted into them. As such, his white eyes were what stood out the most.
His father, as Hephaestion, gave off the appearance of being larger than life. He wore robes of gold and blue. The crown made of fire - at least from what Merlin could conclude - didn’t even char his golden hair. So it had been the same in the past. After seeing pictures of his father, Merlin knew that he had inherited his mother’s dark hair but his blue eyes were thanks to his father.
And seeing his father’s blue eyes in this portrait, Merlin could begin to see what Ceridwen was saying about the wisdom in his father’s eyes.
He jumped in shock when he heard a voice say his name. He turned around to see who the owner of the voice was, but he was still alone in the room.
Then the voice spoke again, “Merlin, my son. I’m speaking from the portrait.”
Merlin looked back at the portrait and noticed his father’s eyes glowing golden now. But there was no movement from him. Merlin could only hear his disembodied voice.
“Wait. But how?”
“A magic spell each of us did on this painting at the time of its making. It allows us to speak to anyone we choose to. I just wanted to say hello.”
“I’m feeling overwhelmed now, I admit. A lot has happened and I haven’t had the time to take it all in.”
“You’ll get acclimated. Don’t worry. You just have to be patient.”
“Do you know your future? After this portrait was made?”
“People come into this room, and they talk. I know. Even though you haven’t been born yet from my perspective, I’ve always yearned for a child of my own. In your past life, Merlin, you were my first and only child. I was never one to have many children though I had a long time to do so. I was looking for the right woman, and luckily, I must have found her because here you are.”
“I never knew that.”
“Well now you do.”
Merlin could almost see the smile on his father’s face.
“Never doubt that I’ll be looking out for you, no matter if I’m dead, my boy. Good bye for now.”
“It was nice to meet you, Father,” Merlin said quietly. He felt tears build at his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall.
He saw his father’s eyes return to their normal blue colour.
Swiping at his wet eyes, he caught sight of an interesting box on the desk below the portrait. On top of it, the box had an image of a dark blue cat with silver spots and star-shaped irises for eyes.
He opened the box, and saw it was full of letters.
There was one letter dated June 15, 2008.
The letter read:
Dear Father,
I know we haven’t got on well. Sometimes I still blame you for my mother’s death when I thought you could’ve done something about it. What’s the use of being in your position if there are restrictions stopping you from saving a life?
Yes, you told me how things must be. I understand now, and have come to accept that I had to live among humans. My late mother was human, after all. But sometimes I wish she’d never met you. Then I never would’ve been born and she would never have died in childbirth.
Sorry. Bran’s watching me write this. He tells me I should be nicer here since this is for Father’s Day. So I’ll do my best to be more positive for the rest of this letter.
Being raised for the first ten years of my life by the Prince of Darkness should feel like a dark period in my life. Especially now knowing what the Prince’s true plans were for me. During my time with him, the Prince did care for me. At least I felt that he loved me as a father does a son. He taught me to be strong, and to be clever.
But you already know all that. I just wanted to thank you for getting me away from the Prince before his scheming led to my early death. King Merlin wouldn’t have so easily succeeded in kidnapping me if it weren’t for your support. I would have never had the opportunity to meet the people I met and form lasting bonds with them. I can’t imagine my life now without knowing them.
…and Bran’s doing a poor job of pretending to read his book on Wales. He says hello, by the way.
Lastly, I wanted to thank you for the gift. You know what I’m talking about. I know you got in trouble for doing it, but at least it was only a temporary punishment. I really do appreciate it. I can’t help but smile every time I think of the gift. It means a lot to me. I was okay when I died in the 16th century after securing the Raven Knife. I wasn’t alone, Brigit was by my side. I don’t doubt you were thinking of me. It was a painless death, and your gift helped in making the end infinitely more bearable.
All that said, Happy Father’s Day!
Thanks for everything.
Your son,
Gwydion
P.S. I think Bran’s humming a Disney tune. (groans)
Merlin felt overwhelmed with the information yielded in the letter. While some details like the kidnapping were known to him, he hadn’t expected this sort of connection to Gwydion.
Was James, his uncle, Gwydion’s birth father?
If that was the case, then Merlin was Gwydion’s cousin with the added connection of Gwydion being one world’s Merlin too. He was related to another version of himself, Merlin concluded. He found the whole revelation quite bizarre.
And judging by the 2008 date of the letter, this meant that Gwydion had been reincarnated after his death centuries ago. Merlin wondered if Gwydion was still alive now in 2011. Also he wanted to know who this Bran was. He appeared to be Gwydion’s friend.
“Read the letter, didn’t you?” Merlin heard James’ voice coming from behind him.
Merlin turned around so quickly that his head spun due to momentary dizziness. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean - I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Merlin, it’s okay,” James was quick to reassure him. “If I didn’t want you to look at the letter, I would have concealed it much better. You’re not intruding. There’s no need to apologize.”
“So it’s true? You’re Gwydion’s birth father?”
James nodded. Appearing weary, he sat down in a chair he’d conjured while Merlin took the seat at the desk. “We have a complicated relationship as you could tell from that letter,” his uncle told him resignedly.
“And Gwydion is a version of me from a different world.”
“Yes. He’s alive and well at the moment. You’ll be meeting him.”
“When?”
“Soon. You won’t be able to miss him.”
“Who was the Bran in the letter?”
“He’s a good friend of Gwydion’s like you’re probably guessing. That’s all,” James told him, but Merlin felt that he was withholding information from him. “Anyway, we should go...”
Yet Merlin was full of questions. He needed his curiosity sated. “What about the gift mentioned in the letter…er, sorry. It’s just the gift wasn’t explained and I can’t help but wonder about it.”
James gave him a small smile, appearing understanding. “That’s all right. The gift is a matter strictly between me and Gwydion. So unfortunately it will have to remain a mystery to you.”
Merlin then recalled the mystery of what was behind those curtains. “I’m assuming you won’t tell me about what the curtains are concealing in the room?”
“It’s a portrait,” James answered smoothly, surprising Merlin with an actual answer. “That’s all I’ll tell you. It’s another personal thing.”
“Could you tell me about the Raven Knife? I had visions and dreams lately about it. Gwydion had it in his possession. I remember a mention about the knife having a true wielder. That sounded like it wasn’t Gwydion.”
“Gwydion made the knife, and he considers it his life’s work. As consequence, he is the knife’s guardian as well as expert on the knife. The Raven Knife has two owners you can say. Gwydion was more interested in the creative process in producing the knife, not actually using it.”
“What’s so special about the knife?”
“The Raven Knife can cut openings into different worlds to visit them. The knife is more valuable now because it’s one of the few things with the ability to be used for world travel,” James explained to him.
“Who’s the knife’s wielder?” Merlin was curious to know. After all, all magical swords like Excalibur for example had that one person designated as its wielder.
“It’s not my place to tell you that. You’ll find out.”
“I bet the compass I received wouldn’t give me the answer either,” Merlin decided with a sigh.
James looked at him curiously. “You mean the Diamantine Compass?”
“How did you know about that?”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you recently.”
“So you’ve been spying on me?”
“For a good reason,” James was quick to defend himself. “I was making sure you were all right. I don’t look in on what you’re doing every moment of every day. I hope you’re not upset with me. When you received the compass, you regained the use of your magic. I have this alert system set up, and your magic coming alive tipped it off. It was easy to discover that you had obtained the compass.”
“Okay… I know you’re doing it in my best interests, it’s just so much has happened in a short period of time. It’ll take time to deal with it all.”
“I understand. You shouldn’t have this put on you all at once, but time isn’t a luxury you have at the moment. You will remember your past life before the summer is over, I guarantee you that, Merlin.”
“Great,” Merlin remarked, growing weary of a possible impending headache.
James squeezed his shoulder in an attempt at reassurance.
“So you seem to know about the compass. Do you know if it’s safe? The Prince of Darkness gave it to me, and he didn’t look like the most trustworthy of people. Not to mention he had been planning to lead Gwydion to an untimely death.”
“The Diamantine Compass is safe. Don’t worry about that. The compass was made by an enemy of the Prince’s. He probably hated the fact that he had to carry such a device, and he was itching to give it away to you and be done with it.”
“And the enemy is?”
“A member of the White Diamond Clan. Manipulating diamonds into different magical objects is a specialty of theirs. Here, show me the compass,” James directed him.
Merlin held out his arm to his uncle. The compass was still seemingly tattooed onto his forearm.
“I’ll just take it out for a moment, and you’ll see what it says on the back.”
“Okay,” Merlin agreed tentatively. “I didn’t look at the back, I admit.”
James swept his hand over the compass and it came loose, parting from Merlin for the time being.
“It’s not easy to spot unless you know what to look for,” his uncle informed him. He turned the compass around and directed Merlin’s attention to the back of it.
“See, it says ‘Branwen’ with a little white raven next to her name. It’s a common signature for White Diamond Clan members.”
Merlin peered at the engraving. The name was written in a sweeping cursive font with a white raven perched beside it. “Does she have anything to do with Bran considering their similar names?”
“You’re right. Bran is a part of the White Diamond Clan, the same clan that believers claim Branwen is an ancestor of. Bran was named after her.”
“Did he make the compass?” Merlin asked.
James shook his head. “I believe another Clan member crafted it,” he said. Then he cleared his throat and he changed the subject, “Yes, so Branwen. She’s seen as a goddess to those of the White Diamond Clan. As far as I know, she was a mortal, but she was a brave woman, and the power of legend prevails. The white raven is her symbol.”
“Why was she brave? What did she do?”
“Her kind, the Immortals, was hunted down for the special properties in their blood. While the gods gave her kind a protected world to live in, Branwen decided to stay behind. She wanted to be with the man she loved even if it was at the cost of her safety. The Immortals themselves have become myths as well. It’s unclear whether or not they even existed. They were before my time, so I don’t even know,” James admitted with a shrug.
“Did it work out for her despite the danger?”
“Yes it did. Branwen took precautions, and her husband helped to conceal her identity. She is said to have had many children in her time. She’s the matriarch of the whole clan. That’s why those of the Clan honour her.”
“Wouldn’t your father know whether she existed or not?” Merlin brought up. “I don’t know how old he is, but I’d imagine he has been around a while.”
“Oh I don’t doubt my father was alive during Branwen’s time long ago. He said he was born when man first succeeded in making fire,” he informed him. “But he chooses not to confirm or deny the stories about Branwen. He likes people believing in a person so strongly that he thinks it wouldn’t help learning the unspoiled truth. Let them have their beliefs, he says, and if they believe she and her kind existed, then they did.”
With that last statement, James gave him back the Diamantine Compass. The compass returned to being a tattooed fixture upon Merlin’s forearm.
“That must be nice, to believe in something so much,” Merlin mused with a sigh.
“Don’t you believe in something?”
“Of course. I believe in my mother,” Merlin answered easily. “She’s the strongest woman I know.”
“Good choice,” James agreed. “It’s time we get you home. Come on, follow me.”
Merlin followed him out. He was curious to see more of this Heaven.
Arthur came home to find that same man who resembled him in the living room.
“What are you doing here?” Arthur practically yelled at the very unpleasant look-a-like encroaching on his home territory. He clenched his fists, spoiling for a fight. “I thought you made your point clear. You hate me, though why you do I have no idea.”
“Your annoying dogs should learn some manners,” his look-a-like only said.
“Where are they? What did you do to them?” Arthur asked, unable to keep out the concern from his voice.
The frustrating stranger shrugged. He waved his hand up the stairs. “I made them fall asleep in a room.”
“How did you do that?”
“Magic. The real kind.”
Arthur looked at him in disbelief. “There’s no such thing.”
“I think you’ll soon find out how wrong you are,” he countered with a dark smile. “I’m the Prince of Darkness by the way.”
“Is that because of your dark eyes?” Arthur couldn’t resist asking. He wondered what had come first: that ridiculous title or the creepy black eyes.
“Funny,” the Prince said dryly.
“Why the Prince and not another title like King?”
“The throne I was meant to rule as King was ripped away from me by scheming bastards,” the Prince explained to him in a bitter tone. Arthur didn’t miss how much the loss affected the Prince from the anger shone through in his words. “It was the only --” but then he stopped speaking as if he realized that he was revealing too much. “Anyway. That was a long time ago. I came here to warn you about someone.”
“Who is that?”
“A boy by the name of Bran. He has dangerous, dark magic at his disposal. He has the ability to control people’s minds, make them do things that they wouldn’t do otherwise. The only way to stop the boy is to kill him.”
“You’ve given me nothing to make me believe I can trust you,” Arthur pointed out firmly. “And I don’t care what you say about him, I’m not about to be responsible for the death of a child.”
The Prince of Darkness chuckled, a cold mirthless laugh that set Arthur on edge. “Of course. I knew you would say something like that. Fortunately for me, I always think ahead.”
Then unwillingly on Arthur’s part, his eyes locked with that of the Prince’s black eyes.
“Listen closely now,” the Prince commanded him. “Bran is the bane of my existence, and he will be yours too. He needs to be destroyed.”
“All right. I understand,” said Arthur.
“Good,” the Prince said with a satisfied smile.
Arthur found his locked stare with the Prince end as the other man looked away from him.
“I’m glad this meeting went well,” the Prince declared. “Goodbye for now.”
He magically disappeared without waiting for Arthur to speak.
Arthur stared in confusion at the empty spot the Prince had departed from. He shook his head.
That was weird.
He heard Cavall and Lux barking in an upstairs room and went to release them.
Part 3 -->
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 & Epilogue
Sunlight streamed through the window of their bedroom the next morning. Merlin woke up before Arthur. He was actually looking forward to the day even though it was another horrid Monday. He felt something good would happen to him. Or maybe in his case, ‘good’ meant another strange thing?
That definitely wouldn’t surprise him.
He nudged Arthur to get him to wake up. “Hey Arthur.”
Arthur woke up slowly, rubbing at his eyes. When he looked at Merlin, he said quietly, almost in a strangely guilty sounding voice, “I’m sorry about your father.”
Merlin peered at Arthur oddly. “Where did that come from?” he wondered. “He died years ago. I don’t understand why you’re bringing this up now.”
Merlin couldn’t help but remember that last bit of his dream where Arthur was hoping he’d forgive him for something. Could what Arthur had just said be related to that?
Arthur’s eyes widened, then he shook his head as if trying to forget whatever had been on his mind. “Forget it. It was nothing. Some weird dream I’ve already forgotten.”
“All right,” said Merlin, his voice trailing off.
At least he wasn’t the only one experiencing odd dreams, but he sensed that Arthur’s dream was not one he would easily share. Merlin decided to go along with what his magic suggested, to keep quiet about the increased strangeness he’d been dealing with. He needed time himself to sort it out before letting Arthur in.
Merlin kissed Arthur on the lips before he got dressed. “Aren’t you going to get ready, Arthur?” he asked him since Arthur was still lying in bed.
“In a moment,” said Arthur curtly. “I just have this bloody headache. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Merlin asked him in concern. “I can get you --”
Arthur interrupted him, a little too harshly in Merlin’s opinion. “I’m fine! Just leave me.”
“Okay,” Merlin surrendered. “I can see you’re grumpy this morning.”
When Merlin was about to leave the bathroom, to his relief, he heard Arthur moving about in their room. Finally Arthur was getting ready. Merlin wondered just what this weird dream of Arthur’s had been about.
He was heading down the stairs when a case of vertigo hit him and he lost his balance. But he felt his magic aid him so he wouldn’t fall down the steps and hurt himself.
Afterwards, Merlin sat down on the stairs as he waited for the unpleasant sensation to pass.
“Thanks, Athena,” he said silently to his magic. “Do you know what caused that vertigo?”
“Maybe you just need to eat something,” she said practically.
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Seriously,” he said. “If that were the reason, I’d be dealing with this every morning. But I don’t,” he stated reasonably. “I was thinking. Maybe I won’t get more anxiety attacks because I have you, my magic. You’re what I’ve lost.”
“While that would be nice, I’m not sure the attacks will end. I told you before that I’ve always been with you even if you didn’t know it. I’m just awake now. I think what you’re missing is much greater than realizing you have me,” she decided, and Merlin wished Athena would lie to him because he didn’t want to dread the next anxiety attack that would come.
“Maybe,” Merlin conceded very reluctantly.
He just badly wanted to be optimistic and be reassured that he’d not get an anxiety attack again.
Feeling better, Merlin stood up and went down the rest of the stairs. Curiously, he looked to his forearm to check if the Compass was still there.
It was.
And the Compass had a message on it.
You have an important meeting today.
Merlin was convinced that his instincts had been right. Something good would happen today.
Arthur worked at DragonGuard Systems, a computer security company, which had helped to build and now it was a thriving business. While most days, he enjoyed going into work, today he felt awful. The shadow of that dream he had thankfully forgotten still haunting him. He had witnessed something terrible, something he so dearly wished he had never seen.
So he was relieved that now he couldn’t remember whatever ghastly thing he had seen. That was one dream or nightmare he didn’t want ever again.
He couldn’t even remember why he had said those words about Merlin’s father to Merlin. Where had that come from?
He did his best not to let his confusion about that dream distract him from his work.
When he returned to his office after a meeting, he found his chair turned around. He hadn’t been expecting anyone.
“Excuse me, who the hell are you?” Arthur demanded, hoping the stranger would face him.
The chair swiveled around so Arthur could finally see the person.
Arthur stepped back in shock.
The person looked like him. What the hell? Except for the unnerving pure black eyes, the man was a dead ringer for him. He was wearing a dark suit with a light purple shirt and silver tie. A black fedora was on his head. The man was clearly wealthy judging by his expensive-looking outfit. Arthur should know since he came from a wealthy family.
“How…why do you look like me?” Arthur uttered in disbelief.
His look-a-like looked at him coldly. “I’m here to tell you that you may have had some power in your past life but, in this life, you’re nothing more than a common man. I’m running things now. And you’re not getting in my way. Are we clear on that?”
Arthur stared at him, beyond puzzled by what this strange look-a-like was on about. “What…? I don’t understand.”
“Simply put, I hate you,” his look-a-like clarified. Unhelpfully in Arthur’s opinion.
Then the odd black-eyed man disappeared as if by magic. A stunned Arthur was left in his wake.
What did he ever do to this man who he had never met before?
~ * ~
While Merlin had been anticipating an important meeting, he didn’t know who it was with or what it would be about. The Diamantine Compass was silent on the matter to Merlin’s dismay. He worked at a book publishing company, The Sword of the Phoenix, as a designer. By the end of the day, he was feeling wrung out creatively.
So Merlin gratefully retreated into his office. He was so distracted with his thoughts that he didn’t notice that someone else was in the office with him.
It was only when Athena spoke up, saying that he wasn’t alone, that Merlin nearly jumped in surprise at the man standing in front of his desk.
The dark-haired man looked to be only a little older than Merlin himself. Definitely in his thirties at least. He had bit of a scruff, and his blue eyes seemed to hold a wealth of emotion and burden. While the man was wearing an average suit - shirt, jacket, trousers - but no tie, Merlin couldn’t shake the feeling that the man was not even human.
Maybe due to all that had been happening to him lately, Merlin swore that the man was surrounded by an ever-steady, pulsating magic. It was surreal to see. And Merlin just knew that he wasn’t hallucinating. He had to open his mind now to accepting the strange. It was the only way he could deal with his perception of reality being turned upside down. He had to embrace these new facts of his life.
“You’re looking much better than the last time we first met, Merlin,” the magic-enveloped man indicated conversationally.
Merlin was close to just standing there, staring at the stranger. What did he mean by meeting him before?
“Sorry, but I don’t think I’ve met you,” Merlin replied slowly, his brow furrowed. “Who are you?”
“Oh, excuse me. You haven’t yet…nevermind. My name is James,” James introduced himself.
He extended his arm so Merlin could shake his hand. Merlin shook James’ hand, albeit he still had reservations.
“And how do you know me?” Merlin asked him.
“Because we’re family, Merlin. At least, I still consider you family. I’m your uncle,” James informed him.
“You’re my what?” Merlin uttered in shock, reeling.
What unnerved him the most was that there was something about the man that wasn’t human…and yet, this person, James, was his uncle.
James was eleven years old when his Father, the God of Magic, took him away from his royal mother to live in the Heavens. He loved his mother very much, so he was sad to leave her and his brothers and sisters. But his Father had said to him that James would soon attain his godly status as he was meant to.
That he was a son of the God of Magic and he should be proud of that. Seeing his Father filled him with awe because he was shaped as a human, but he glowed so strongly that it seemed like he was composed of magic.
Any mortal man or woman who would look upon him in his true form would go mad, he told James. Someone like James’ mother was a special exception. Still, most of the time, his Father kept away from the mortal realms.
To bestow godly status upon him, James was taken to a circular room. The wall that curved around the whole space looked like the blue sky. The ceiling had images of animals and flowers that came alive, it seemed, every time you looked closely enough at them.
“I can not keep this from you, my son. The bestowing of your godly powers may hurt,” his Father explained to him.
“It will?” James asked, feeling especially anxious now.
“Yes, but do not worry,” his Father then reassured him with a smile and calming hand on his shoulder. “I have a solution for it, and you will not feel the pain if you do one simple thing.”
“What is that?” James asked.
His Father waved his hand and a winged horse foaling appeared before him.
The foaling was a Pegasus with a striking appearance. He was snow-white but his wings, mane and tail were a reflective silver colour. The young winged horse was having trouble standing being born not long ago from the look of it.
“He’s beautiful,” James uttered in awe. He immediately went to the young Pegasus and pet him on the head.
“This creature will be yours to look after. He is a magical creature, one of many who serve the gods and the goddesses,” his Father informed him. “You will grow to love him as you would your own family, and this dear Pegasus will serve you happily. As you will grow into adulthood, my son, so will your Pegasus. But as it will be with you, once the creature is at the height of physical excellence, he will become ageless. This is so he can continue to serve you throughout your immortal life.”
“Thank you, Father. I love him. I promise to take good care of him. But what must I do to help to ease the bestowing?”
“You only need to maintain contact with him, and the process will not hurt you,” his Father explained to him. “I promise you that.”
James nodded, showing he understood. He stroked the young Pegasus’s lovely silver mane, and he was pleased that the magical winged creature appeared receptive. He didn’t run away at least and didn’t try to kick at James defensively. Instead, the creature remained relatively still, his coordination improving slowly but surely, and he allowed James to touch him and pet him. The Pegasus was the best gift that James had ever received in his opinion.
As his attention was on his Pegasus, James barely noticed his skin glowing golden as he underwent the change of being elevated to the status of a god.
After the transition was complete, his Father spoke, “It is done, my son. And now you must name your Pegasus a name you find worthy of such a creature.”
James couldn’t help but be surprised that such a small act as contact with a magical creature could keep him from feeling the pain of the bestowing. He had many names in mind for his Pegasus.
He felt at a loss at settling on one name.
“The best name is there, son. Just let it come to you. Let your instinct guide you.”
James closed his eyes and let his mind go free. The name was there. What was it?
He had it.
“Silverlight,” James declared. “The name of my Pegasus is Silverlight.”
“A fine name,” praised his Father.
James couldn’t resist going to embrace his Father in gratitude. His Father hugged him back, though James could tell that he had caught him off guard.
“Thank you, Father. Thank you,” said James sincerely.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad to have you here with me,” he said to him.
His Father then told him that though James had great power now, he must be responsible with that power.
“This is your half-brother, Hephaestion,” his Father later introduced him to his new godly siblings. “And Ceridwen, your half-sister, who I hope will be like a mother to you.”
Hephaestion was so tall and strong to James. Ceridwen was almost as beautiful as his mother, but of course, James was biased to believing no one matched his mother in beauty.
His Father left James in the hands of his siblings. Hephaestion was kind to him, and Ceridwen thought James was a handsome little boy. She remarked that James’ mother must be quite pretty.
“Yes she is,” James acknowledged.
“Well that’s not a surprise,” Ceridwen commented. “She is a Queen after all. You’ll be quite handsome when you grow up, dear one.”
Hephaestion shook his head. “Nevermind Ceridwen, James. She’s an admirer of beauty,” he said in a slight teasing voice.
“Hephaestion! I was only being complimentary. Come along, my little one. Hephaestion and I shall show you around the castle and the grounds.”
She pulled James to her side as if he was her child and started talking in a clear, soothing voice about the different parts of the castle.
James found her presence comforting. Likewise Hephaestion was a solid, reassuring presence to him. James couldn’t help but smile or laugh at some of the antidotes Hephaestion told of his and Ceridwen’s time growing up in their Father’s castle.
When James was older, he dealt with Hephaestion making possibly the worst decision of his life.
“This isn’t love, this is stupidity,” James countered. “How can you give up your place as a god for a mortal woman? What is so special about her?”
“Father accepts it,” Hephaestion said, and then he explained further, “I honestly love this woman, and the only way I can truly be with her, to have a family with her, is if I become a mortal man. I’ll still possess some magic, so not everything will be taken away. A life as a god may be right for you, James, but I feel that it’s not right for me. Being with the woman I love will make me happier than I’ve ever been.”
Still, James did not quite understand his brother’s reasoning. He had never been as in love before or ever really as his brother was. Love was a strange disease, clearly, that made people a bit mad.
“Look,” Hephaestion continued. “I know how hard you try to prove yourself worthy of your status, but you don’t have to prove anything to us, James. No matter how you came to be, you’re still just as strong as Ceridwen and me.” He spoke with finality, as if he were imparting his final reassurances to James.
James couldn’t deny he appreciated the confidence that Hephaestion had in him even as he still doubted himself sometimes.
“You shouldn’t trouble yourself with those worries, my James,” Ceridwen put in. “Once you attained your status as a god, your Queen mother’s humanity didn’t make you weaker, but just served to guide your outlook on life.”
“Thank you,” James said as sincerely as he could muster. The lingering doubt would always stay with him like a curse. He was sure of that. “If you go through with this, Hephaestion, then there’s no going back.”
“I know. That’s why I wanted to say a proper goodbye to the both of you. Since this could be the last time we see each other.”
“Oh Hephaestion, is this all a way to avoid seeing me?” Ceridwen inquired in mock-seriousness. “What shall I do?”
“You’ll still have James to charm with your wit,” Hephaestion retorted with a smile.
James rolled his eyes.
Ceridwen looked unaffected. “I shall survive then,” she decided smoothly. She ruffled James’ hair. “Poor James will have to deal with giving Father grandchildren.”
“Won’t you two having children be enough?” James asked glumly.
Hephaestion and Ceridwen exchanged knowing glances with one another. James didn’t think he’d feel as unhappy as he did now.
Hephaestion was his older brother. He was supposed to stay here with him and Ceridwen. It just wasn’t fair.
After Hephaestion departed the Heavens, James was far from happy. A small part of him also couldn’t bear to see Hephaestion be just a man, prone to sickness, and with any moment being his last.
During his years with his royal mother, James had been sick a fair few times. He knew what it was like to be terribly ill. It was awful. Only the comfort of his beloved mother helped him get through the illnesses of childhood.
From his place in the Heavens, James caused rain to fall. His frustration over his brother’s leaving manifesting in storms within the world Hephaestion had chosen to live in with his mortal wife.
The world of animal souls it was called by some.
But by most, this world was known as the Daemon World.
“I recommend we sit,” James suggested. He waved his hand at the two empty chairs, one behind the desk and another in front of it. “I think you and I can agree that this won’t be a quick conversation. It never is with reunions.”
Merlin was understandably uncertain as to what to do, but he sensed the sincerity in the man’s voice. He believed that this James was telling the truth.
He sat down at his chair behind his desk while James occupied the seat opposite Merlin.
“So you’re my uncle? And according to you, we’ve met yet I don’t remember doing so.”
“Yes. I probably should say uncle by blood in your former life. Your father in your past life was my older half-brother. So I'm truthfully your half-uncle but it's a detail of minor consequence.”
“By past life --” Merlin asked, his eyes narrowing. He felt slightly ridiculous for asking this, but quite a few ridiculous, strange things had happened to him lately. Why not just throw the idea out there? “--are you implying I’ve been reincarnated? And I’m missing memories like meeting you because of that?”
James, his uncle apparently, nodded. “Yes, on both counts. But you regained use of your magic, haven’t you? At this point, you should be able to accept the reality of reincarnation. Numerous human cultures believe in reincarnation after all.”
“Okay. And are you human? You don’t feel human…I see this magic around you…” Merlin confided in him uncertainly. But he didn’t know how else to explain it - there was clearly some magical energy surrounding his alleged uncle from his past life.
“I’m glad to hear that your magical sensing abilities are working,” he remarked, smiling and sounding pleased. “You’re both right and wrong. I’m a god, but I was born to a human woman, a Queen actually. At eleven, I was granted my godly status. Because of that, my human side was overridden by my godly powers. Right now, I’m only symbolically human. I lived with my mother until I was eleven, so I did spend some years living as a human.”
“So you’re immortal then? How old are you?”
“I was born not long before the collapse of the Roman Empire.”
That meant James was a few decades older than the Prince of Darkness. “What are you the god of? Magic?” Merlin guessed randomly based off the magic around his uncle.
James’s mouth twisted into a smile. “No, but close. My father is the God of Magic. I’m the god of unnatural magic. My duty is to keep an eye on humans who possess magic in all the worlds. I’m sure you can guess the differences between natural and unnatural magic. Natural magic is magic immersed in the nature around us - in the flora and fauna. Magic becomes un-natural or out of nature when it’s ‘housed’ inside humans. My role is a guardian of those who have magic like you.”
“That makes sense even though ‘unnatural’ does usually carry a negative association.”
James agreed. “I know, but I’ve learned to live with it.”
“What sort of god was my father then?” Merlin was curious to know. “Did he look over a different type of magic?”
“Yes. His name was Hephaestion, and he was the God of Magic’s - his and my Father’s -- right hand man. He helped out with monitoring natural magic over all worlds. He could travel to all the worlds and be amongst humans when our Father couldn’t. You see, the God of Magic is unable to mingle with humans as any human who sees him will go mad. He is magic, the very source of it. I could understand the intense reaction people could have to just looking upon him. I myself was awed seeing my Father for the first time.”
Merlin could almost believe, no matter how somewhat ridiculous it sounded, that the all-powerful God of Magic was his grandfather. Going off of how fantastical it sounded, it was like he was living in a dream come to life. But he couldn’t deny the truth in James’s words because he did now possess real, honest-to-goodness magic in the form of Athena. That was definitely not a dream. So he had to believe the truth of being descended from a family of divine beings, especially ones who specialized in magic.
“What happened to him? My father from my past life?”
“I admit I thought your father was a bit mad for the choice he made. But you may not have been born if it weren’t for that decision,” James intimated. Then he paused and he added on thoughtfully, “Well, at least you would be a completely different person I would imagine.”
“What happened?” Merlin asked.
“During a trip to one of the worlds, Hephaestion fell in love with a woman. So much so that he wanted to be with her, properly, and have a family with her. As a god, he couldn’t be with a human like that. We may spend time with humans, but we can’t truly be with them in the usual way. As gods, our immortality and agelessness prevent us from simple lives with humans. If we want children with humans, then we can do that, but--”
“Yet you can’t stay, leaving the child without a father,” Merlin finished stiffly, getting the picture quite clearly. He could hear the judgmental tone in his voice. He could never condone that kind of behavior, and it was very unfortunate that gods did such a thing.
He could tell that James had heard the disapproval in his voice by his sheepish smile. “I confess that at that time when Hephaestion left, I had no qualms about that restriction with humans. I was enamored with life as a god that any downsides didn’t bother me. They were small compared to what I could now do as an immortal being with unimaginable power,” James admitted, not quite looking at Merlin.
“Though I’ve since had a change of heart,” he added quickly. Merlin wondered if he was trying to make himself look better in his eyes. “So I can understand your condemnation. It’s not right or fair, but it’s how things must be.”
Merlin nodded, accepting his answer. “I’m guessing that my father requested to be human then? To give up his place as a god?”
“Yes. And our Father let him. I had expected that Hephaestion would take over as God of Magic at some point, allowing Father to retire peacefully. I’m sure by now, Hephaestion would’ve been the God of Magic if things had been different. As it stands, Father still remains in the position. I don’t know what your father said to him. But it was convincing enough to persuade our Father to grant Hephaestion’s wish instead of forcing him to stay.”
“Will he ever retire?”
James shrugged. “A god’s life is a long one. I think he has a few centuries left in him, but I imagine he’d like to ask me or Ceridwen - my older half-sister, your half-aunt - to take his place.”
“And if he asks you?”
“I can’t say no,” he confided in Merlin, sounding like it was a terrible thing to have no choice in the matter. “It would be an honour, true, although I wouldn’t be able to travel to the realms of humans so freely. Great power doesn’t come without some sacrifices like they say.”
“What happened to my father though? How long did he live?”
James frowned, a sadness pervading him that gave Merlin a good idea about the answer. Unfortunately his former father hadn’t grown old as he’d hoped. Then again, the father he had had in this life had passed away of cancer. He never had the chance to know the man. Merlin felt he should have expected an unhappy ending to the life of the father he’d once had.
“He was with you and your mother for four years of your life. I expect they were happy years, and I’m sure he loved you very much. Regrettably, he passed away when you were four years old and your mother raised you on her own. When you regain your memories, you’ll get the whole picture. I don’t like talking about it.”
Merlin desperately wanted to ask the circumstances of his father’s death. If he had died of natural causes, surely James would have just said that? Merlin hated to think his father had been murdered if that’s what his uncle was keeping secret. What a terrible way to die.
“Did my mother from my past life know about his true identity? That he used to be more than human?”
“Quite likely, yes. Whether she believed it or not is another story. You must admit it is an extraordinary tale.”
“Yes I agree there. Is there any chance that my father from this life could have been Hephaestion reincarnated? Even if he had a different name? Would you know?”
“I don’t doubt he was. For me, I couldn’t bear to see Hephaestion reincarnated without his memories,” James admitted to Merlin. “Some people might not even regain their past memories. Your father may have been one of them.”
“Does that mean--?”
Yet Merlin was prevented saying what he had wanted to say by an oncoming anxiety attack. No, he thought. They weren’t supposed to happen when he wasn’t at home. This wasn’t right.
He could hear James stand up abruptly and call his name. But then a vision overcame all his senses.
It was like the end of his dream except fortunately, Merlin was now an invisible observer. He was in the medieval era again. If James was to be believed about reincarnation, then that had to be past incarnations of him and Arthur in these council chambers.
At a long table, Arthur was writing something on a piece of parchment, his jaw tight, and he seemed tense. Though he wasn’t looking directly at the past version of Merlin, Merlin could tell that Arthur’s demeanor was due to him being in the room.
“I’ve learned that Gwydion is very ill. I’m planning to go see him, and I’ll be staying for the wedding, as we agreed,” his other self told Arthur in a business-like voice.
Arthur stopped his writing, and after setting his quill down, he finally set his eyes on the past Merlin who was standing by him.
“Will Gwydion be all right?” Arthur asked, the concern evident in his tone.
His past incarnation looked annoyed, strangely in Merlin’s opinion. Why would he be annoyed when Arthur was only expressing concern as anyone would?
“Why should you care?” the past Merlin shot back in a shockingly sharp tone.
Really, this was unwarranted. First that dream and now this - why was his past incarnation so unforgiving of Arthur?
In answer to the other Merlin’s retort, Arthur remained silent and shifted his gaze away from the other man. Merlin noticed how his jaw clenched as if he was trying to hold back from speaking what he truly wished to say.
“Do you need me to --?” Arthur began to ask, but the past Merlin interrupted him.
“I don’t need you. I have that taken care of,” he told him.
Arthur’s eyes looked wet to Merlin as tears threatened to fall. He pleaded with the past Merlin, his voice trembling as he spoke, “Merlin, please. It’s been five years,” he stressed.
He reached out to touch his past incarnation’s hand. Yet the past Merlin ripped his hand away from Arthur.
“No. No touching. If you’re trying to weaken me by making me fall for this act, then you’re mistaken,” the other Merlin told him firmly.
“It’s not, I swear, Merlin, it’s not an act. I’m sorry, so sorry that I can’t take pleasure in anything anymore…” Arthur tried to defend himself. He sounded so desperate that it made Merlin’s heart ache.
Though Arthur looked like he would continue, the past Merlin turned away from him and he disappeared magically from the room.
The last image Merlin was left with was of Arthur’s miserable-looking face. One solitary tear fell down his cheek as he despondently stared at the empty spot the past Merlin had disappeared from.
Then Merlin woke up.
~ * ~
Ceridwen (Merlin's half-aunt)
He was surprised to see that he wasn’t in his office, but he was lying in bed instead.
Admittedly, seeing Arthur’s expression definitely made Merlin feel frustrated with his past incarnation for placing Arthur in such a state. He wished more than anything to find out the cause of this distance. When he regained his memories, he’d hopefully get his wish. And then he couldn’t help but conclude that these memories are what he had lost. What had been causing these anxiety attacks. The reasoning made sense.
He looked to his right to discover a pretty redhead at his bedside. He could also see magic surrounding her like an aura as he’d experienced with James. Yet Merlin also heard a soft, lilting music due to her close proximity. He idly wondered if she was a siren since the musical nature of her presence was enchanting. He guessed that she was Ceridwen, the half-aunt James had mentioned.
“Hello, Merlin. I’m your Aunt Ceridwen. James had to step out, but he should be back soon. Are you feeling all right, my dear?” she asked him.
Merlin sat up slowly. “I feel okay, I think. A bit of a headache. I’ve never had an anxiety attack at work. I don’t know why I had it,” he said with a sigh. “James said you were my half-aunt.”
Ceridwen waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, half-aunt, aunt, reincarnation or not, we’re still family. I was quite fond of Hephaestion, as James was too. Hephaestion was my younger brother. I always thought he was meant to take Father’s place. He was an excellent mediator, which was useful when James and I got into arguments. James can be incorrigible sometimes.”
“So my father was a middle child?”
Ceridwen nodded. “I wasn’t sure how James and I would go on without him when he left to live a mortal life. But we strived to make the new arrangement work. I was like a mother to James, being so much older than him and he was still a child when he came to be with us. He needed a motherly influence. Unfortunately sometimes we were at odds with each other. Nothing extraordinary, I expect. Humans have similar conflicts.”
“The stories my mum could tell…” Merlin contributed with a small smile. “She’d agree with you. I had my less than admirable moments.”
His aunt smiled at him.
“Where am I exactly? This place feels different, like I’m far away from home than I’ve ever been before.”
“You’re still in your world, but it’s a space strictly designated for gods and goddesses, the non-human realm so to speak or a Heaven. Each world has its own Heaven. These Heavens are for us gods and goddesses to stay in if we don’t want to enter the human realm when we visit another world. We also have our own world, the main Heaven, that’s solely meant for gods and goddesses. This Heaven is its own separate world like your world. It is therefore the biggest. That is where I, James and your father grew up and lived on a daily basis.”
“Heaven? I’m in Heaven? I thought the only time I’d be here is when I died. I’m not dead, am I?”
“No, no,” she was quick to assure him. “You’re still very much alive. James just wanted you to recover comfortably. We’ll make sure you return to where you were and no one will notice your absence. We can bend time a little, so don’t worry about that.”
“Whose home is this? James’s?”
Ceridwen confirmed his suspicions, “Yes. This castle of his is relatively small, at least in this world. The grandness of the dwellings largely depends on the belief of humans in the world a Heaven is connected to.”
“And in my world, the general population doesn’t believe in real magic.”
Ceridwen nodded. And then she added, “Also, the belief in multiple gods and goddesses isn’t as strong as it used to be centuries ago in your world. That makes the Heaven of your world considerably smaller. In comparison, my Father, James and I have the biggest castles in the Heaven of the World of Magic. The people there believe in us so strongly. Since they all possess magic, there is no room for denying our existence.”
“The World of Magic sounds like somewhere I’d like to go,” Merlin mused.
“It may not be the best idea. You’ll probably find it hard to leave. I myself feel that way.”
“You have a point there. My fiancé wouldn’t be happy with me escaping to a different world. Maybe I can get him to agree to come with me.”
“That would be quite the entertaining conversation,” Ceridwen remarked with a chuckle.
Merlin agreed. “If I can ask, what sort of goddess are you?” He wondered curiously. “James told me he was the god of unnatural magic. You have a specialty, or whatever you call it, too, right?”
“Of course you can ask me that. Not a problem at all. I’m the goddess of creative magic. The main role I play is insuring humans have their muses. Creativity, inspiration and imagination help to advance humanity, after all. Where would humans be without the ability to think outside of the box? It’s my duty to keep creativity thriving. My favorite creative mind is that of Leonardo Da Vinci. Although I fear I need a new favorite. It has been a long while since his lifetime, hasn’t it?” Ceridwen asked reflexively.
“Well for me, it has been, but I know with you being immortal…it doesn’t seem as long. It’s been five hundred years, I think, since Da Vinci’s time.”
“Don’t worry. Five hundred years feels like a long time to me too. I certainly feel my age every so often.”
“And yet you don’t look a day over twenty.”
“It must be the new cream I’ve been using,” Ceridwen played along, smiling in amusement. “You’re too kind. I thank you for the compliment. You know you don’t have to embellish your words. I consider you my nephew. You can speak the truth.”
“I was sincere. I promise,” Merlin said.
She smiled at him in gratitude, and then she placed a hand upon his cheek. “Even as an incarnation, you still have your father’s eyes. I would never be able to forget those eyes. Such perceptive, wise eyes. You weren’t able to know your father in this life?”
“Unfortunately, no. He died of cancer before I was born. My mum told me his name was Phillip.”
“What a shame,” she remarked sadly. “I’m sure he loved you very much despite not properly meeting you.”
“That’s what my mum always tells me,” Merlin said with a sigh. “It’s her way of making me feel better about never knowing him. She only has good things to say about him.”
“As any good mother would,” Ceridwen remarked with a half smile. She stood up then. “Well I must go. It was a great pleasure to meet you, Merlin. I hope you have a nice summer.”
She leaned down and kissed him on the brow. Oddly enough, Merlin didn’t mind the close contact. After the conversation with Ceridwen, he had easily accepted her as his aunt. It just felt right to him. Like he had known her all his life.
Ceridwen left the room. Merlin climbed out of bed. He knew it would be intruding, but since he was alone in the room now; why not have a look around?
The room overall had an ordinary appearance except for the ceiling which was unlike any ceiling Merlin had ever seen outside of a Harry Potter movie. Above him was a clear blue sky with clouds floating leisurely on past.
There were framed portraits on the walls, and Merlin thought there was no harm in looking at them. They were there to be looked at, after all. He did notice that something on the far wall had been covered with blue curtains. Biting his lip, and feeling undoubtedly curious, he went over to it. Were the curtains hiding a painting? He couldn’t help but think of “The Secret Garden” and how the portrait of Colin’s mother had been veiled off from sight. He tried to shove the curtain aside, and then remembering that he had his magic, he used Athena’s help in unraveling the hidden painting or whatever it was.
But even with Athena, the curtains remained in place. They only glowed golden for a moment before the glow faded and left the mystery behind the curtains a continued secret.
He sighed, and stepped away from it. He had gotten the message loud and clear. Better move on and find something else to occupy his attention.
Merlin was drawn to one big family portrait to the right of the door. He smiled upon seeing his father as he’d never seen him before. After all, he’d only seen photos of him that his mother kept in her albums. Never in a painting, and never with a fiery crown on his head.
In the portrait, the depiction Merlin believed to be of the God of Magic was on his throne in the middle. His three children were positioned in order of age. Ceridwen was at the left, Hephaestion was behind his father, and James was the last one at the right. Ceridwen was donned in a royal purple dress with a crown of gold upon her head. James wore robes of blue and silver with a silver crown on his head. The God of Magic was the most striking of the four in the painting.
James had been right about intense reactions when seeing the God of Magic for the first time. While the god possessed a human shape, he was composed of purely golden energy to the point where bits of energy sparked off him like an energetic fire. Merlin could make out his face, but his hair was hard to discern as the gold of his hair blended in too well with the rest of his being. The God of Magic’s eyes looked like the finest white diamonds had been slotted into them. As such, his white eyes were what stood out the most.
His father, as Hephaestion, gave off the appearance of being larger than life. He wore robes of gold and blue. The crown made of fire - at least from what Merlin could conclude - didn’t even char his golden hair. So it had been the same in the past. After seeing pictures of his father, Merlin knew that he had inherited his mother’s dark hair but his blue eyes were thanks to his father.
And seeing his father’s blue eyes in this portrait, Merlin could begin to see what Ceridwen was saying about the wisdom in his father’s eyes.
He jumped in shock when he heard a voice say his name. He turned around to see who the owner of the voice was, but he was still alone in the room.
Then the voice spoke again, “Merlin, my son. I’m speaking from the portrait.”
Merlin looked back at the portrait and noticed his father’s eyes glowing golden now. But there was no movement from him. Merlin could only hear his disembodied voice.
“Wait. But how?”
“A magic spell each of us did on this painting at the time of its making. It allows us to speak to anyone we choose to. I just wanted to say hello.”
“I’m feeling overwhelmed now, I admit. A lot has happened and I haven’t had the time to take it all in.”
“You’ll get acclimated. Don’t worry. You just have to be patient.”
“Do you know your future? After this portrait was made?”
“People come into this room, and they talk. I know. Even though you haven’t been born yet from my perspective, I’ve always yearned for a child of my own. In your past life, Merlin, you were my first and only child. I was never one to have many children though I had a long time to do so. I was looking for the right woman, and luckily, I must have found her because here you are.”
“I never knew that.”
“Well now you do.”
Merlin could almost see the smile on his father’s face.
“Never doubt that I’ll be looking out for you, no matter if I’m dead, my boy. Good bye for now.”
“It was nice to meet you, Father,” Merlin said quietly. He felt tears build at his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall.
He saw his father’s eyes return to their normal blue colour.
Swiping at his wet eyes, he caught sight of an interesting box on the desk below the portrait. On top of it, the box had an image of a dark blue cat with silver spots and star-shaped irises for eyes.
He opened the box, and saw it was full of letters.
There was one letter dated June 15, 2008.
The letter read:
Dear Father,
I know we haven’t got on well. Sometimes I still blame you for my mother’s death when I thought you could’ve done something about it. What’s the use of being in your position if there are restrictions stopping you from saving a life?
Yes, you told me how things must be. I understand now, and have come to accept that I had to live among humans. My late mother was human, after all. But sometimes I wish she’d never met you. Then I never would’ve been born and she would never have died in childbirth.
Sorry. Bran’s watching me write this. He tells me I should be nicer here since this is for Father’s Day. So I’ll do my best to be more positive for the rest of this letter.
Being raised for the first ten years of my life by the Prince of Darkness should feel like a dark period in my life. Especially now knowing what the Prince’s true plans were for me. During my time with him, the Prince did care for me. At least I felt that he loved me as a father does a son. He taught me to be strong, and to be clever.
But you already know all that. I just wanted to thank you for getting me away from the Prince before his scheming led to my early death. King Merlin wouldn’t have so easily succeeded in kidnapping me if it weren’t for your support. I would have never had the opportunity to meet the people I met and form lasting bonds with them. I can’t imagine my life now without knowing them.
…and Bran’s doing a poor job of pretending to read his book on Wales. He says hello, by the way.
Lastly, I wanted to thank you for the gift. You know what I’m talking about. I know you got in trouble for doing it, but at least it was only a temporary punishment. I really do appreciate it. I can’t help but smile every time I think of the gift. It means a lot to me. I was okay when I died in the 16th century after securing the Raven Knife. I wasn’t alone, Brigit was by my side. I don’t doubt you were thinking of me. It was a painless death, and your gift helped in making the end infinitely more bearable.
All that said, Happy Father’s Day!
Thanks for everything.
Your son,
Gwydion
P.S. I think Bran’s humming a Disney tune. (groans)
Merlin felt overwhelmed with the information yielded in the letter. While some details like the kidnapping were known to him, he hadn’t expected this sort of connection to Gwydion.
Was James, his uncle, Gwydion’s birth father?
If that was the case, then Merlin was Gwydion’s cousin with the added connection of Gwydion being one world’s Merlin too. He was related to another version of himself, Merlin concluded. He found the whole revelation quite bizarre.
And judging by the 2008 date of the letter, this meant that Gwydion had been reincarnated after his death centuries ago. Merlin wondered if Gwydion was still alive now in 2011. Also he wanted to know who this Bran was. He appeared to be Gwydion’s friend.
“Read the letter, didn’t you?” Merlin heard James’ voice coming from behind him.
Merlin turned around so quickly that his head spun due to momentary dizziness. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean - I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Merlin, it’s okay,” James was quick to reassure him. “If I didn’t want you to look at the letter, I would have concealed it much better. You’re not intruding. There’s no need to apologize.”
“So it’s true? You’re Gwydion’s birth father?”
James nodded. Appearing weary, he sat down in a chair he’d conjured while Merlin took the seat at the desk. “We have a complicated relationship as you could tell from that letter,” his uncle told him resignedly.
“And Gwydion is a version of me from a different world.”
“Yes. He’s alive and well at the moment. You’ll be meeting him.”
“When?”
“Soon. You won’t be able to miss him.”
“Who was the Bran in the letter?”
“He’s a good friend of Gwydion’s like you’re probably guessing. That’s all,” James told him, but Merlin felt that he was withholding information from him. “Anyway, we should go...”
Yet Merlin was full of questions. He needed his curiosity sated. “What about the gift mentioned in the letter…er, sorry. It’s just the gift wasn’t explained and I can’t help but wonder about it.”
James gave him a small smile, appearing understanding. “That’s all right. The gift is a matter strictly between me and Gwydion. So unfortunately it will have to remain a mystery to you.”
Merlin then recalled the mystery of what was behind those curtains. “I’m assuming you won’t tell me about what the curtains are concealing in the room?”
“It’s a portrait,” James answered smoothly, surprising Merlin with an actual answer. “That’s all I’ll tell you. It’s another personal thing.”
“Could you tell me about the Raven Knife? I had visions and dreams lately about it. Gwydion had it in his possession. I remember a mention about the knife having a true wielder. That sounded like it wasn’t Gwydion.”
“Gwydion made the knife, and he considers it his life’s work. As consequence, he is the knife’s guardian as well as expert on the knife. The Raven Knife has two owners you can say. Gwydion was more interested in the creative process in producing the knife, not actually using it.”
“What’s so special about the knife?”
“The Raven Knife can cut openings into different worlds to visit them. The knife is more valuable now because it’s one of the few things with the ability to be used for world travel,” James explained to him.
“Who’s the knife’s wielder?” Merlin was curious to know. After all, all magical swords like Excalibur for example had that one person designated as its wielder.
“It’s not my place to tell you that. You’ll find out.”
“I bet the compass I received wouldn’t give me the answer either,” Merlin decided with a sigh.
James looked at him curiously. “You mean the Diamantine Compass?”
“How did you know about that?”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you recently.”
“So you’ve been spying on me?”
“For a good reason,” James was quick to defend himself. “I was making sure you were all right. I don’t look in on what you’re doing every moment of every day. I hope you’re not upset with me. When you received the compass, you regained the use of your magic. I have this alert system set up, and your magic coming alive tipped it off. It was easy to discover that you had obtained the compass.”
“Okay… I know you’re doing it in my best interests, it’s just so much has happened in a short period of time. It’ll take time to deal with it all.”
“I understand. You shouldn’t have this put on you all at once, but time isn’t a luxury you have at the moment. You will remember your past life before the summer is over, I guarantee you that, Merlin.”
“Great,” Merlin remarked, growing weary of a possible impending headache.
James squeezed his shoulder in an attempt at reassurance.
“So you seem to know about the compass. Do you know if it’s safe? The Prince of Darkness gave it to me, and he didn’t look like the most trustworthy of people. Not to mention he had been planning to lead Gwydion to an untimely death.”
“The Diamantine Compass is safe. Don’t worry about that. The compass was made by an enemy of the Prince’s. He probably hated the fact that he had to carry such a device, and he was itching to give it away to you and be done with it.”
“And the enemy is?”
“A member of the White Diamond Clan. Manipulating diamonds into different magical objects is a specialty of theirs. Here, show me the compass,” James directed him.
Merlin held out his arm to his uncle. The compass was still seemingly tattooed onto his forearm.
“I’ll just take it out for a moment, and you’ll see what it says on the back.”
“Okay,” Merlin agreed tentatively. “I didn’t look at the back, I admit.”
James swept his hand over the compass and it came loose, parting from Merlin for the time being.
“It’s not easy to spot unless you know what to look for,” his uncle informed him. He turned the compass around and directed Merlin’s attention to the back of it.
“See, it says ‘Branwen’ with a little white raven next to her name. It’s a common signature for White Diamond Clan members.”
Merlin peered at the engraving. The name was written in a sweeping cursive font with a white raven perched beside it. “Does she have anything to do with Bran considering their similar names?”
“You’re right. Bran is a part of the White Diamond Clan, the same clan that believers claim Branwen is an ancestor of. Bran was named after her.”
“Did he make the compass?” Merlin asked.
James shook his head. “I believe another Clan member crafted it,” he said. Then he cleared his throat and he changed the subject, “Yes, so Branwen. She’s seen as a goddess to those of the White Diamond Clan. As far as I know, she was a mortal, but she was a brave woman, and the power of legend prevails. The white raven is her symbol.”
“Why was she brave? What did she do?”
“Her kind, the Immortals, was hunted down for the special properties in their blood. While the gods gave her kind a protected world to live in, Branwen decided to stay behind. She wanted to be with the man she loved even if it was at the cost of her safety. The Immortals themselves have become myths as well. It’s unclear whether or not they even existed. They were before my time, so I don’t even know,” James admitted with a shrug.
“Did it work out for her despite the danger?”
“Yes it did. Branwen took precautions, and her husband helped to conceal her identity. She is said to have had many children in her time. She’s the matriarch of the whole clan. That’s why those of the Clan honour her.”
“Wouldn’t your father know whether she existed or not?” Merlin brought up. “I don’t know how old he is, but I’d imagine he has been around a while.”
“Oh I don’t doubt my father was alive during Branwen’s time long ago. He said he was born when man first succeeded in making fire,” he informed him. “But he chooses not to confirm or deny the stories about Branwen. He likes people believing in a person so strongly that he thinks it wouldn’t help learning the unspoiled truth. Let them have their beliefs, he says, and if they believe she and her kind existed, then they did.”
With that last statement, James gave him back the Diamantine Compass. The compass returned to being a tattooed fixture upon Merlin’s forearm.
“That must be nice, to believe in something so much,” Merlin mused with a sigh.
“Don’t you believe in something?”
“Of course. I believe in my mother,” Merlin answered easily. “She’s the strongest woman I know.”
“Good choice,” James agreed. “It’s time we get you home. Come on, follow me.”
Merlin followed him out. He was curious to see more of this Heaven.
Arthur came home to find that same man who resembled him in the living room.
“What are you doing here?” Arthur practically yelled at the very unpleasant look-a-like encroaching on his home territory. He clenched his fists, spoiling for a fight. “I thought you made your point clear. You hate me, though why you do I have no idea.”
“Your annoying dogs should learn some manners,” his look-a-like only said.
“Where are they? What did you do to them?” Arthur asked, unable to keep out the concern from his voice.
The frustrating stranger shrugged. He waved his hand up the stairs. “I made them fall asleep in a room.”
“How did you do that?”
“Magic. The real kind.”
Arthur looked at him in disbelief. “There’s no such thing.”
“I think you’ll soon find out how wrong you are,” he countered with a dark smile. “I’m the Prince of Darkness by the way.”
“Is that because of your dark eyes?” Arthur couldn’t resist asking. He wondered what had come first: that ridiculous title or the creepy black eyes.
“Funny,” the Prince said dryly.
“Why the Prince and not another title like King?”
“The throne I was meant to rule as King was ripped away from me by scheming bastards,” the Prince explained to him in a bitter tone. Arthur didn’t miss how much the loss affected the Prince from the anger shone through in his words. “It was the only --” but then he stopped speaking as if he realized that he was revealing too much. “Anyway. That was a long time ago. I came here to warn you about someone.”
“Who is that?”
“A boy by the name of Bran. He has dangerous, dark magic at his disposal. He has the ability to control people’s minds, make them do things that they wouldn’t do otherwise. The only way to stop the boy is to kill him.”
“You’ve given me nothing to make me believe I can trust you,” Arthur pointed out firmly. “And I don’t care what you say about him, I’m not about to be responsible for the death of a child.”
The Prince of Darkness chuckled, a cold mirthless laugh that set Arthur on edge. “Of course. I knew you would say something like that. Fortunately for me, I always think ahead.”
Then unwillingly on Arthur’s part, his eyes locked with that of the Prince’s black eyes.
“Listen closely now,” the Prince commanded him. “Bran is the bane of my existence, and he will be yours too. He needs to be destroyed.”
“All right. I understand,” said Arthur.
“Good,” the Prince said with a satisfied smile.
Arthur found his locked stare with the Prince end as the other man looked away from him.
“I’m glad this meeting went well,” the Prince declared. “Goodbye for now.”
He magically disappeared without waiting for Arthur to speak.
Arthur stared in confusion at the empty spot the Prince had departed from. He shook his head.
That was weird.
He heard Cavall and Lux barking in an upstairs room and went to release them.
Part 3 -->