Prologue
Outside the weather was abnormally violent. It was the night before the spring equinox, and a full moon besides. Magic was stronger than ever this night to the point where even muggles could feel something in the air. Winds rocked the drawbridge of the mighty castle that was the home of the ruler of Camelot, but it somehow managed to stay in place despite the efforts of the furious storm. From a small room in the north-east tower of the great fortress, one could see a strange glow emanating through the window and even the stone walls. Inside was the room was one of the oldest and mightiest wizards of all time, and he was working furiously with great concentration. The old wizard's blue eyes were blazing with a strange inner light of concentration as he slowly stirred the strange bubbling red-orange mixture in his cauldron all the while muttering a strange incantation. Fizis expnacto heri!! he suddenly yelled out just as the bubbles were getting high enough to almost spill out of the cauldron, and simultaneously stopped stirring.
The First Wizard of Camelot picked up a long, carefully carved rod placed on a table next to where he was standing. The ivory-colored staff was long and smooth and had two figures etched on the top. One was a fierce looking dragon with glittering emerald eyes. Facing the opposite side was a griffin, also with glittering emerald green eyes glaring menacingly outward. Both of the magical beasts had their wings extended like petals to give the top of the staff the appearance of a strange flower. The old wizard looked over the staff and sighed with relief that his tasks would soon be over and hoped that it would be enough to help his progeny when they needed to call upon the Power to defeat the forces of evil.
Wiping invisible dust off the gleaming rod, he dipped the stick into the cauldron, which proceeded to glow even brighter than what it was before. Soon the ordinary, although beautiful, rod would become so much more, soon to be endowed with magic beyond all save the greatest practitioners of the art. With brows furrowed and thunder and lightning roaring outside wreaking havoc on the nerves on even the bravest of King Arthur's knights, he once again resumed the incantation he himself had developed and would be the final step to create the mightiest vessel of power the world had seen since the ages of the Olde Ones. The red-brown solution bubbled furiously in response to the words spoken by the wizard and seemed to be diffusing into the stick. Slowly, the color crawled up the staff making it a dull mahogany to the very top.
When at last the solution had disappeared from cauldron, the old man collapsed to his knees weakly, breathing hard and with apparent difficulty. "It's finally done, Alto, my faithful friend," he said after a few minutes rest. He turned to face the snow white owl perched on a stand that was staring down at him with eyes that seemed to hold intelligence. "Ever since the Vision 20 years ago where I saw the world would be facing the greatest threat of the dark side and only with the power of a powerful magical artifact could my last descendent hope to survive and discover the true powers hidden within him. He must learn of the blood of family, the blood of me, Merlin, the blood of the Olde Ones, who have long since gone back to other realm. We are the last line left on this world, and it is our burden – our duty – to defend the innocents and bring forth the Light." The old owl hooted and flew down to the man's shoulder.
"Over the last years, I have searched for the components of this staff, and now it is done. I simply have bestow a little of my consciousness into the staff, and all will be ready," Merlin said to his owl. "Just give me a few more minutes to rest." The owl simply hooted once again and affectionately nipped his long time friend's ear, then flying agilely back on to his pedestal. Standing up, Merlin walked to another table and took a bite out of a pear that he conjured before turning to face his last duty. Taking a deep breath, he grasped his old battered wand with his right hand, and with his left hand he grasped the staff. "Goodbye, old friend," he said to bird. Closing his eyes, he began muttering strange words in a forgotten language for what seemed to be hours. Abruptly, in tune with a particularly loud burst of thunder and a brilliant flash lighting the entire castle, he tapped his own head with the staff and collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap. Gasping, with the last of the strength in his tortured body, he mutter a few more strangled words and made the staff move to the future where it would reach his descendants when the time was right.
The drawbridge outside finally snapped and fell into the moat, as the rains outside finally began to subside, as if their job had been done and now they could repose, and the night was broken by the loud piercing hoots of an anguished owl. The rain continued to fall as the light dimmed in the north-east corner of castle Camelot. Merlin, the greatest wizard the world had seen or would see for many generations had died at midnight.
Outside the weather was abnormally violent. It was the night before the spring equinox, and a full moon besides. Magic was stronger than ever this night to the point where even muggles could feel something in the air. Winds rocked the drawbridge of the mighty castle that was the home of the ruler of Camelot, but it somehow managed to stay in place despite the efforts of the furious storm. From a small room in the north-east tower of the great fortress, one could see a strange glow emanating through the window and even the stone walls. Inside was the room was one of the oldest and mightiest wizards of all time, and he was working furiously with great concentration. The old wizard's blue eyes were blazing with a strange inner light of concentration as he slowly stirred the strange bubbling red-orange mixture in his cauldron all the while muttering a strange incantation. Fizis expnacto heri!! he suddenly yelled out just as the bubbles were getting high enough to almost spill out of the cauldron, and simultaneously stopped stirring.
The First Wizard of Camelot picked up a long, carefully carved rod placed on a table next to where he was standing. The ivory-colored staff was long and smooth and had two figures etched on the top. One was a fierce looking dragon with glittering emerald eyes. Facing the opposite side was a griffin, also with glittering emerald green eyes glaring menacingly outward. Both of the magical beasts had their wings extended like petals to give the top of the staff the appearance of a strange flower. The old wizard looked over the staff and sighed with relief that his tasks would soon be over and hoped that it would be enough to help his progeny when they needed to call upon the Power to defeat the forces of evil.
Wiping invisible dust off the gleaming rod, he dipped the stick into the cauldron, which proceeded to glow even brighter than what it was before. Soon the ordinary, although beautiful, rod would become so much more, soon to be endowed with magic beyond all save the greatest practitioners of the art. With brows furrowed and thunder and lightning roaring outside wreaking havoc on the nerves on even the bravest of King Arthur's knights, he once again resumed the incantation he himself had developed and would be the final step to create the mightiest vessel of power the world had seen since the ages of the Olde Ones. The red-brown solution bubbled furiously in response to the words spoken by the wizard and seemed to be diffusing into the stick. Slowly, the color crawled up the staff making it a dull mahogany to the very top.
When at last the solution had disappeared from cauldron, the old man collapsed to his knees weakly, breathing hard and with apparent difficulty. "It's finally done, Alto, my faithful friend," he said after a few minutes rest. He turned to face the snow white owl perched on a stand that was staring down at him with eyes that seemed to hold intelligence. "Ever since the Vision 20 years ago where I saw the world would be facing the greatest threat of the dark side and only with the power of a powerful magical artifact could my last descendent hope to survive and discover the true powers hidden within him. He must learn of the blood of family, the blood of me, Merlin, the blood of the Olde Ones, who have long since gone back to other realm. We are the last line left on this world, and it is our burden – our duty – to defend the innocents and bring forth the Light." The old owl hooted and flew down to the man's shoulder.
"Over the last years, I have searched for the components of this staff, and now it is done. I simply have bestow a little of my consciousness into the staff, and all will be ready," Merlin said to his owl. "Just give me a few more minutes to rest." The owl simply hooted once again and affectionately nipped his long time friend's ear, then flying agilely back on to his pedestal. Standing up, Merlin walked to another table and took a bite out of a pear that he conjured before turning to face his last duty. Taking a deep breath, he grasped his old battered wand with his right hand, and with his left hand he grasped the staff. "Goodbye, old friend," he said to bird. Closing his eyes, he began muttering strange words in a forgotten language for what seemed to be hours. Abruptly, in tune with a particularly loud burst of thunder and a brilliant flash lighting the entire castle, he tapped his own head with the staff and collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap. Gasping, with the last of the strength in his tortured body, he mutter a few more strangled words and made the staff move to the future where it would reach his descendants when the time was right.
The drawbridge outside finally snapped and fell into the moat, as the rains outside finally began to subside, as if their job had been done and now they could repose, and the night was broken by the loud piercing hoots of an anguished owl. The rain continued to fall as the light dimmed in the north-east corner of castle Camelot. Merlin, the greatest wizard the world had seen or would see for many generations had died at midnight.