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"Yes, I think we would all like to know the answer to that, kind sir. Who do you think you are, boarding a private tour bus, thinking you're the King of England?" The bus driver had turned around, and was shouting angrily at Arzhur.

Arzhur almost answered that he actually was the King, but thought it unwise, as he didn't think there were any detholedig's on the bus. Except maybe…

"I am sorry sir." Arzhur replied, not used to addressing people as superior to him, except for the Celtic Gods. "I did not realise that this bus was private, as you said. May I join your… too-er?" he replied, finding these new words quite strange. "I can pay you, will gold coins do?"

Arzhur pulled a small, velvet, navy, drawstring pouch from his pocket, reached in, and drew out ten coins, about the size of eyes, all made of solid gold. They were stamped with a crown on one side, and a man's head on the other, which looked curiously like Arzhur, but older.

"Where did you get those?" Asked Mr Johnston excitedly, "They look very rare, are they rare?" He took one, to inspect closer. "I've never seen coins like these, and I pride myself on the knowledge of coins, past and present. Are they a new issue? How many Australian dollars are they worth?"

Arzhur, who had no idea of what was going on, smiled and nodded. He put the coins in Mr Johnston's hand, and sat back down next to Sophie, who just stared at him, much like the rest of the bus. Mr Johnston, who was too busy looking at the strange coins, didn't take much notice, and waved the driver on.

"Yes, oh my this is exquisite. You boy, you shall take Megan's part on the tour. Who was her partner?"

Eleanor raised her hand.

"Ah, Eleanor. You shall stay with her; she will be your tour buddy. Do not lose each other. If you feel you must, you may swap. Though I don't see why…" Mr Johnston had trailed off, looking at the coins again.

"You, new boy, what's your name?" Eleanor shouted, from across the bus.

Arzhur thought for a moment, trying to decide on a name that would suit. After a moment, hi replied politely,

"My parents, they called me Artorius. It's Latin. My friends call me Arthur. What's your name?"

Eleanor rolled her eyes at her friends, who now included Giuliana, and replied

"I am Eleanor, but you can call me El. This is Gules. She's Lacey, she's Sally and that's Gracey. We are the girls you want to be seen with."

Arzhur took note of each, looking at the girls, trying to decide if they were detholedig or not. None of them were.

He looked at Sophie, and said

"And what is your name?"

Sophie looked at him, and was suddenly breathless,

"Sophie" she whispered.

Eleanor laughed.

"That's a beautiful name." Arzhur whispered back. "It's a pleasure meeting you." He was looking very closely at Sophie.

She is one of them, a true detholedig. Now I need to find a way to tell her my identity, and get her to help me. Little did Arzhur know, this task would be harder than he thought.

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"…So El said I could stay in her room, and Arthur could stay in here with you, because you were getting along so well. You don't mind do you?" Gules had been in their room since they got back to the hotel, and was, at that moment, packing her things back into her suitcase.

"No, I don't mind at all. Tell Arthur he can come in here if he really wants."

However, Sophie did mind, Sophie minded a lot. Her best friend since grade 8, their third year of friendship. 'My sister was right when she said everything changed at year 10.'

Gules snapped her bulging suitcase closed, walked to the door and looked back.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Yes Gules, I'm sure. Go on, I suppose Arthur and I need to get better acquainted if we are going to be tour buddies."
After Gules had gone, Sophie sat on her bed facing the window, with her legs tucked up under her chin. Had she any tears left, they would have been running down her face. As it was, she just sighed sadly. She turned, as a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in, it's open." Arzhur came in, locked the door behind him, and said

"Sophie, there is something you should know about me."

Sophie turned, surprised, although there were many things she didn't know about him.

"I'm not who you think I am. My real name is Arzhur. My father was Uther Pendragon, my mother was Igraine of Cornwall. I was once King of England, hundreds of years ago. I know that it is written that I died, but it also written that in a time of great need, I would return and save my country. It is now a time of great need, I have returned to save Britain. You must believe me Sophie, I tell the truth."

Sophie was stunned. She sat still for almost a minute before replying, in a very quite voice,

"You're mental. You're off your nut. King Arthur died. He was just a fairy tale…a Celtic legend. I don't believe you. It's just a coincidence, your names and all."

"Then how do you explain the coins I have. Look, these were made when I was ruling, but I was older then, I don't know why my age decreased… My face is on here. Believe me Sophie, please! I need your help! Merlin and I can't do it alone!"

"Great, now Merlin's here. Let me guess, it's just the guy from Big Brother a few years ago. You have no proo…" as she spoke, the windows burst open and an owl flew in, with a snow-white stomach, and tawny brown wings. As it landed on the ground, it morphed into a man.

He was shorter than Sophie, who was just above medium height, and was bald, on top of his head, and on the front. Sophie was surprised by this, because in almost every picture of Merlin, he resembled Dumbledore. In addition, instead of the flowing purple robe and hat, he wore a simple brown habit, much a friar tuck.

"Wow." Sophie said. "Maybe you weren't joking… Are you really Merlin?"

"Yes"

"Wow. Can you do any magic?"

"Didn't you just see me morph? That's no easy task, morphing. It's quite taxing, unless you have the right magic."

"Oh. Do you have the right magic?"

"Yes, but only a small amount. I can only take on the shape of an owl. Is that the last of your questions?"

"One more."

Merlin was getting agitated a bit now, but sighed, and relented

"Yes, what is it?"

"Are you really from the past? If so, were the Knight's of the Round Table cute?"

Arzhur snorted,

"You make it seem as if they were young boys, cute. Really. They were not babies you know, all of them, except" he said this next name quite sadly, as if it caused him great pain, "Lancelot. He came to us at 16, and was our youngest Knight ever. Now if you are quite finished, we have work to do."

Sophie nodded, and they sat on her bed in a triangle.

Tell us all you know about the great need that Britain is in. What is causing so much trouble?"

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