AN: With Excalibur sword, the origins I am describing are from the BBC Merlin series, which I know does not follow the true Arthurian legend. However, there are many interpretations and for my stories purposes this contemporary telling works. I hope all my readers understand, and will not get me wrong for my mythology inconsistencies. Also many thanks to Fluffyblackcloud for the superb beta-reading and help! Please review and thank you so much for reading this story!

Chapter Two: Riley's musings and the history of Excalibur

Washington D.C

Riley's POV

Riley wasn't sure what to think. Sure, New York was a great city if you loved a lot of people, who went from the eccentric to the plain weird. Actors and actresses lived there, movies were always shot there, and people always thought that New York was the home where dreams come true. Riley snorted, if he didn't know any better he would say it was more likely a battlefield of the forces between good and evil with all the corrupted Wall Street Bankers and the starry eyed actresses along Broadway who were too naïve for their own good. Not to mention the ballerinas who longed to be in the New York City Ballet. Not that he was cynical or anything.

He grew up along the upper West Side. Privileged, yes, but unwanted. His whole life his father never talked to him, except for a few short times (which he wished happened more often). He would ask how his day was and Riley would say 'well', and his father would reply 'well' too. His father was always away for business or with his friends. His own father would rather hang out with his friends and co-workers than his son. Had he really been that bad of a son?

Riley never thought so. He followed all his family's rules. Well... maybe he stayed up a few nights to work on a computer project or to watch Star Wars. Big deal. There was a time when his father did seem to like him and would tell him stories of good versus evil, and a lone traveler searching for a sorcerer who's destiny it was to save the world. He always thought his dad made it up off the top of his head, knowing that Riley liked those kinds of stories. Those were the good times. It was when he got passed his sixth birthday that things started going downhill. No more stories, no more talking to each other. His mother saw this and tried to rectify the situation but his father would always shake his head. Had he done something?

He always wondered if this had anything to do with a situation involving a ring that his father once tried to give him. He held out the ring within his hand with a big smile on his face, but when Riley took the ring into his hand his father had frowned after a few seconds and taken it back. His father at that point had completely changed. He was never sure what the importance of that ring was, or was that the day his father saw who he really was as a son.

Riley always wanted to know why his dad hated him because he refused to believe it was all because of one, overly ornate, ring. His mother at least, Helen, was a nice women. But she never commented on how his father acted towards him, except for the occasional times where she would step up and say that he needed to be more of a father to Riley. But then a quick discussion would ensue, and all would be over.

His father was nice in the sense that he never beat him or expected the impossible from him. On the contrary, his father was proud that he had taken to history and liked computer science. He would always mention a friend of his that had a penchant for history as well and then his mother would look at his father and what could have been a good moment went away. Riley started getting the feeling he was out of the loop somehow. Not that it truly mattered to him as he was just that kind of guy who never knew what was really going on.

Not that it mattered anymore. His parents had died on the same fateful day back in 2000. His father died in a car crash and his family's apartment had been burned down, while his mother was inside. The police said it was a gas leak but his apartment was the only one to have any real amount of damage. The car crash was brutal from what he remembered seeing in the pictures. He had been up in Vermont at school when he heard the news. Luckily for him his father was well off and the family accounts had gone to him, mostly to pay for his boarding school, college, and any post-graduate schooling he wanted to attend. Only, everything else it seemed his father had disappeared.

All the arrangements had been made in advance, which was odd; it was like his father expected an early death. But Riley shook his head. This was morbid thinking on his part. Even though his father wasn't the kind of man to talk to his son often there were those occasions where they would chat. Then his father would remember something and clam up.

Come to think of it, the only person his father did talk about besides his grandfather and some of his co-workers was that friend of his. Apparently, this friend was well travelled and had seen a lot of places. His father had mentioned that he was well versed in all types of history, from European to American. Riley remembered when they were talking during those few moments asking if he could ever meet his friend. It was then that the atmosphere changed and his father dropped the subject. A no then to meeting this well-travelled friend it seemed.

New York this time wouldn't be with a cold family though, it would be with his friends: Benjamin and Abigail Gates. Heck, maybe even he could persuade his friend to see a musical, not that he normally liked them but they could see Spamalot. Maybe, just maybe he would have fun.

After all he was going to the NYU campus; there would probably be some good looking seniors or grad students. Not to mention the interesting things that always seemed happen at college campuses. He would even get a chance to go to the Carnegie Deli. He couldn't wait to get his favorite pastrami sandwich again. It was probably one of the few things he missed, along with the Chrysler Building for some reason.

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New York City

Dave's POV

Dave Stutler was wondering why Balthazar had called him thirty minutes before practice. He wasn't going to be late and he already knew he had practice today, but from the sound of Balthazar's voice whatever he had to say was urgent. He really hoped this had nothing to do with any Morganians or dragons, or even trolls. He shivered when he remembered his last encounter with a troll in the sewers. Not the most amazing day he ever had.

Becky was there with him in thick black leggings, a short beige pencil skirt and a really nice black sweater that she got as an early Christmas gift from, surprisingly of all people, Balthazar. It even seemed that the snow and the city's lights on Rockefeller Plaza were able to get the usually serious sorcerer into the spirit of the holidays, however Dave believed it was more to do with Veronica than anybody else.

As Dave and his girlfriend Becky entered his lab, now turned part time sorcerer's lair, the Merlin's circle's orange flames licked the outlining two circles and Dave saw his master in the center, the forbidden element. The outer and inner circle went out as soon as Dave came downstairs.

"So why did you need me a half hour early? If you thought I was going to be late I should tell you I was planning to be on time you know." His master had a scowl on his face and Dave was going to ask what he did wrong when he saw that Balthazar's eyes were little out of focus. When he saw that Dave was standing in front of him he softened up his features.

"Good, you're here," he said and Dave saw his master walk over to the table were a lot of candles were lit up and the Encantus, in all its large glory, was opened up to a certain page. As Dave took a closer look he saw that it was a picture of a sword, and he didn't know much about swords at all. What he did know was that picture showed one heck of a sword. The image was of an item that was not only well crafted but had a sublime beauty to it with crystals and jewels on the hilt that Dave believed would have sparkled. At least, that was the impression he got from the Encantus' picture. Balthazar saw him looking at this picture.

"Is this why you wanted me here now, to show me a picture of a sword?" Dave asked. Balthazar looked at him with annoyance.

"That isn't just any regular sword Dave, read the caption." Dave was a little exasperated, but he followed his master's directions and looked at the bottom of the picture and read:

The Excalibur Sword, forged with the last dragon's breath and the magic of the just and powerful Merlin.

Dave just stared at picture and he saw that his master looked back at him. Dave knew the legends about Excalibur but he couldn't believe it was a real sword. To be honest, magic wasn't supposed to real either but here he was training to become one of the most powerful sorcerers the world has seen since Merlin.

"So Excalibur is real then?" Dave asked, sounding slightly surprised and a little taken back. Balthazar had a look on infinite patience on his face and once again went into his master mode, but of course he did look a little bemused at the fact that Dave's jaw was slightly slack.

"What? You thought Excalibur was a legend? I suppose you thought that Arthur wasn't real either?" Balthazar had this big smirk on his face; Dave really wished he could wipe it off his face. Instead he shook his head.

"Excalibur is real Dave, and the reason I wanted you here earlier is that, at one point, I had a friend who was the protector of Excalibur," Balthazar said. Dave listened to the tale his master spun, explaining to him everything from how the sword was forged and how it was used to save Camelot from utter disaster to how Arthur was able to kill Mordred with it. After the battle, Merlin took the sword to hide it away.

The power of Excalibur was great and only Merlin or Arthur were supposed to be able to wield it's power for good. Dave wanted to know why such a weapon would be hidden if it was so great, but Balthazar informed him that the magic within the sword could have the potential to destroy all that is good as well. Dave got the shivers.

His master further explained how it was hidden by different Merlinian families throughout time. At this point Balthazar became exasperated when he realized Dave thought that his master, Veronica, and he were the only sorcerers besides Morganians out there.

The location of where each family had hidden the sword could be found by following clues in a little black leather bound book. It looked nondescript to the average eye, but if one had an eye for detail they would notice the Merlin circle printed on it. The clues would lead each new protector to where the sword was hidden so they would be able to find it, and hide it again.

Of course Dave heard what happened to the last family; they were brutally murdered, their deaths explained away as accidents such as a car accident and apartment fire. At least that was Dave's understanding of it from what Balthazar had said. The last family happened to be friends of Balthazar's and the father of the family, Daniel Opoel, who was another Merlinian sorcerer as well.

Of course now, Dave found out the real reason he wanted him here. They were going to track down the little black book and get it to his friend's son who, by the way, did not have the ability to do magic. Dave felt pretty bad for the guy, he would have to deal with something that shouldn't exist at all and had no way to protect it. That and a fairly epic sorcerer who was really too serious at times and had a tendency to shoot off Dave's Tesla coils whenever he liked, though Dave was getting good at avoiding them.

Becky sat through the whole exchange with her mouth open and closed at some parts. This whole experience was still new to her, but to hear that the Excalibur sword was real and not legend at all got her wondering what was truly fantasy anymore. Sorcerers, witches, dragons, trolls, and magic swords were all reality. It even seemed ancient treasure was real, which reminded her that before this whole event came up she had wanted to see if Dave would attend the Abigail Gates lecture with her on Wednesday the 8th of December.

Once it seemed that Dave and Balthazar were done discussing the matter of Excalibur she heard Dave ask, "So how are we going to track down this little black book?" Becky saw the grim expression on Dave's master's face.

"We'll start with whoever got a hold of my books and sold them or auctioned them off," Balthazar said. Dave wasn't sure how easy that was going to be because there were a ton of auctioneers in Manhattan alone.

Not to mention while all this was happening Becky asked him if he wanted to attend a lecture this Wednesday with her. It sounded like it was going to be a busy week.

AN: Please review and I hope you are enjoying the story. I know it seems a bit slow right now, but I promise from what I am writing in the upcoming chapters it will get fairly interesting. All authors have to start somewhere. I want to see what you have to say about my first crossover because I really want this to be good. Thank you!