"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.

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.