A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

I thought it would be good to clear up Wyatt and Chris's age: Wyatt has turned 21, hence the reason the dwarves were so stubborn about the stuff they fed him – it was the first opportunity for them to do so. His birthday is also a big event in the magic world, considering the fact that he is the chosen one and was coming out of age, so the number of guests, both invited and uninvited, went way over the top.

Chris is, respectively, 19 years old.

Now on with the story!

Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately

For about a long moment or two they just stared at each other, the three of them equally shocked and astonished, two pairs of somewhat horrified eyes bearing in something akin to fascination into the wary, uncomprehending and curious ones. Chris was the first to snap out of it, abruptly turning to Wyatt and yelling out indignantly:

"What have you done?!.."

Wyatt was instantly defensive, wheeling on his heels to face his brother and crossing his arms in a defiant gesture:

"What do you mean me? It was you who wrote the spell!.."

"It was you who lost the sword in the first place!.."

Both missed the moment the boy decided it was no time to appreciate the situation but to make a run for it, probably concluding it was an evil plot conceived by his numerous evil enemies. However, a quick movement in the corner of their vision caught their attention, and the two witches turned their heads just in time to see the back of the blue jacket bolt out of the door.

"Oh no, wait!" – Chris yelled out, his voice desperate, as they followed hastily, stumbling, in the rush forgetting, as usual, about their inborn ability to teleport…

The sound of something tumbling down the stairs made the two of them freeze mid step for a second and exchange terrified, as well as disbelieving, glances. Then they simultaneously darted forward, their paces twice as quick as before.

(---

"You've killed him, – Chris muttered, darkly. – You've killed Merlin."

"Hey, it was your spell! And it wasn't me who pushed him down the stairs, - Wyatt replied, reasonably, then fixed a pondering gaze on the prone figure lying unmoving on the sofa, eyeing it thoughtfully. – Besides, he's not dead. Just… out of sorts."

Both were silent for a moment, staring, then Wyatt eventually voiced it, his tone obviously doubtful:

"Are you sure it is the Merlin? He… doesn't look like one."

Chris shook his head in wonder, his thoughts straying the same way. Wyatt's phrase didn't even begin to describe it.

Yet, he had to be reasonable about it, so instead of agreeing he said:

"Well, he did mention Arthur and Camelot. Do you know many Merlins who were on familiar terms with Arthur and resided in Camelot?"

"Besides, - he added after a short pause, resisting the urge to pull onto his hair – it would mess up his haircut… - Besides, if he hadn't been the Merlin, the spell most likely wouldn't have sent him here in the first place."

This Wyatt couldn't argue with, no matter how much he wished to. The horror of the situation began to slowly dawn on him, and he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and falling listlessly onto the armchair. Mom would be so happy…

"So… - Chris didn't even look in his direction, not needing to see his brother's reaction to know what it was like. – What shall we do now?"

"Well, that's pretty simple, isn't it? – Wyatt said, forcing himself to snap out of his depression and think rationally. – We wait until he wakes up, give him an amnesia potion and send him back."

"Why don't we send him back now? He would probably think it was a dream or something."

"Because, - Wyatt leveled a glare onto the younger witch, irritated by his thoughtlessness, - Because we really don't want the Merlin to find himself unconscious in the middle of unknown forest where some beast or evil wizard could kill him? Now that would mess up the timeline, don't you think?"

Chris smiled sheepishly:

"Yeah, you're probably right."

His gaze suddenly turned thoughtful, something Wyatt has learnt to be wary about out of unfortunate experience.

"No matter what you're thinking, I'm not agreeing to this."

Chris just blinked innocently at him.

"I haven't said anything."

Wyatt nodded, grimly:

"No, you haven't. I just wish it would remain so."

Chris ignored the comment, his body leaning slightly forward in a conspiratorial way, eyes alight with a brilliant idea he suddenly had.

Well, at least he thought it was brilliant.

"Look, if the spell did send him here, it was supposed to mean something, wasn't it?"

Wyatt watched him, resigned, exasperated:

"No, it wasn't. You just phrased your request too vaguely."

But Chris merely shook his head impatiently, unwilling to give in:

"No, look!.. After all, it was Merlin who crafted the Excalibur, wasn't it?"

"It was, or so the legend says. So what?"

Chris eyed him disbelievingly, pityingly and tolerantly, like one would eye a child who had asked why the sky was blue and why the demons were evil. Wyatt glared, annoyed, waiting for his brother to just finish with whatever the crazy idea he had this time.

"So he's supposed to know how to find it," – Chris explained, slowly, patiently.

Wyatt sighed, sounding as exhausted as if the whole weight of the world lay on his shoulders, crushing him into the ground.

"Firstly. Look at him, properly… does it seem like he has already gained enough strength and experience to create the most powerful sword the history has ever known?"

Chris appeared doubtful for a moment, then waved his hand, stubborn.

"Age doesn't mean anything. Look at us, for example."

'Yeah, look at us, getting ourselves in every trouble possible and having no control of our powers whatsoever', - Wyatt thought, sarcastically, but refrained from saying this particular idea aloud.

"Secondly. You do understand what changes the timeline will suffer if he finds out what will happen… (happened?) in his future, don't you?"

"Well, we won't tell him anything! Besides, you were going to give him an amnesia potion anyway, so that shouldn't be a problem!"

"And thirdly. What if the demons find out? What if Mom finds out?"

Chris gulped nervously.

"She won't. We just have to finish it before she comes back."

"Yeah, right, - Wyatt gave him a dark look. – We're not doing this, Chris."

For several moments the younger Halliwell seemed to be about to yield, lowering his eyes, but…

"What do you think Mom will do if she finds out about Excalibur?"

Out of the corner of his vision Chris watched his elder brother turn several shades paler. There was a moment of indecision, then a firm:

"I'm in."

---

The new Oracle opened her eyes, smiling. Who would have thought that after so many years of being scattered, defeated and intimidated the demons would have another chance?

And from the Chosen One, no less, inferno burn his insides out.

Now, she only had to wait for an opening. And then they would strike.