Outside, it was already night. Using levitation, they swiftly ascended to the top of the large hill. Pausing, Merlin tilted his head back to gaze at the sky. By now, it was studded with stars.
“Meet me at Arthur’s Well,” the woman called out before heading in the opposite direction.
Nodding automatically, Merlin pulled the first stone from the pouch. As soon as he placed it on the ground, an effect shimmered to life—the stone glowed with a faint white light. Merlin continued his task.
Soon, a thin white line stretched across the grass. He was about to keep going when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Snorting in annoyance, the wizard declined the call. But within a minute, it rang again. Seeing who was calling, he swiped across the screen to answer.
“Mary? Is it urgent? I’m a little tied up right now!” Hearing the response, Merlin’s expression darkened. “She just up and left?” He let out a heavy sigh and sat down on the grass. “Fine. I’ll find her! Once I’m done in England, I’ll come back, and we’ll talk. No, Mary, absolutely not!”
Shoving the phone back into his pocket, Merlin let out a curse. He needed to finish setting up the protective barrier ASAP. But instead, he had to deal with tracking down his niece. What else did they expect? She was the spitting image of his brother.
* * *
Rogneda, having returned earlier, had everything prepared by the time he arrived. In one section of the grand hall, a circle had been drawn, and special stones were laid out. Merlin entered the main hall, now dressed in a long cloak with a hood.
“If you’re ready, step into the circle,” the sorceress said, removing the crystal from around her neck. Without a word, Merlin followed her instruction. “Are you absolutely sure? The pain might be…”
“Or it might not be!” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’m not worried about myself. I’ve lived too long already.”
Rogneda nodded, touching the crystal to each of the magical stones on the floor in turn. When she finished, the air began to crackle with electricity. The amethyst in her hands glowed faintly. She started chanting the incantation in a melodic tone, her sharp gaze fixed on the magister. He stood calmly, eyes closed.
Raising her hand to eye level, Rogneda made the crystal float above her palm. It drifted slowly through the air and hovered over the wizard’s head.
When it did, Merlin’s breathing grew labored. His body no longer obeyed him. Soon, he would have to traverse time and space. Being on Earth made no difference to the process.
He tried to open his eyes, but it was no use. It felt as though he was sinking deeper and deeper into darkness. This unnerved him slightly. Merlin knew full well the risks he was taking. He’d wanted to use the crystal countless times before. His past was riddled with too many mistakes.
* * *
Merlin realized it was over when his body responded to him again. Opening his eyes, he looked around. He stood in the middle of some unfamiliar street. Disappointment washed over him. This wasn’t the place he’d hoped for at all.
Suppressing a heavy sigh, Merlin stepped onto the road. He didn’t have much time before the next shift. At any moment, he could be flung to another part of the continent.
Though he’d only been to these parts a few times, Merlin worried someone might recognize him. That would be undesirable. Pulling his hood over his head, he walked along the street.
The small town stirred melancholic memories within him. Long ago, he’d left his newborn brother here. In this timeline, the boy would be about seven or eight years old.
His feet carried him to the right place on their own. Merlin wasn’t certain this was where Albrecht’s adoptive parents lived. He simply trusted his gut instinct.
He didn’t bother knocking on the door. That would be pointless. Making sure no one was around, the wizard approached a window. Another sigh of disappointment escaped him when he saw there wasn’t enough light inside. The single room on the ground floor appeared empty. Or so he thought. But then, his gaze caught a faint movement. Soon, a boy walked past a table where a few candles flickered. Grabbing something, he turned just enough for the candlelight to illuminate his face. In that dim glow, his eyes looked coal-black, just like those of the little prince.
Merlin’s breath caught in his throat. He’d give anything to return to this moment in the seventeenth century. A smile tugged at his lips; he’d never seen his brother like this. Their first meeting hadn’t happened until Albrecht was eighteen.
Many knew this story. Countless books had been written about Albrecht and Rada, and several movies had been made. They’d always been different from others. Take their dream of starting a band, for instance! The wizard smiled again. He’d truly give anything to go back to that time and listen to their quirky songs.
At that moment, Merlin felt the familiar pull of another shift. His fists clenched in despair. One last glance through the window, and darkness swallowed him once more.
This time, it happened quickly. Less than five seconds passed before he found himself standing by a massive stone wall. Looking down at his shoes, the wizard grimaced—clumps of mud clung to them.
To his misfortune, a full moon shone brightly in the sky. Hiding in the shadow of the castle wall, Merlin caught his breath. The trembling in his hands, which had started recently, intensified. He couldn’t let emotions get the better of him; he had to do this right.
Merlin glared at the flag on the pole with hatred. The golden sun and silver moon on a blue background now symbolized only one thing to him: the loathsome vampire. The creature who had taken everything from him. He’d failed to kill him once before; he wouldn’t make that mistake again.
The wizard still couldn’t risk being seen. But even if someone spotted him, he had an excuse—in this timeline, he still lived in Golden Castle. The key was to avoid running into himself.
Smirking, Merlin moved along the wall.
“There’s a hidden passage around here somewhere.”
He knew the passage would be removed later in time.
* * *
Through the secret corridors, he was driven by a thirst for revenge. The voice of reason had gone silent a week ago. That’s when he’d learned Morl had survived and was doing just fine.
For years, Merlin had tried to live a normal life. After the battle at the manor, he’d been preoccupied with the safety of his Order, and eventually, his desire for vengeance had dulled. He’d thought that if he didn’t remind Morl of his existence, the vampire wouldn’t learn about his niece. But he had!
“I won’t let you hurt her again! Even if I have to rewrite history!” His hand instinctively found the dagger in its sheath at his waist.
The wizard moved quickly through the castle’s depths, navigating the passages. It took him about forty minutes. The castle’s defenses wouldn’t allow unauthorized teleportation inside.
Pushing a painting aside, Merlin emerged into a corridor on the third floor. Stepping onto the carpeted path, he double-checked to ensure he wasn’t leaving any tracks.
Footsteps echoed faintly in the distance. Guards were the last thing he needed right now. Muttering a curse, he quickened his pace.
“Fervecto Maibrante,” he whispered, yanking a door handle toward him.
Closing the door behind him, the wizard pressed his ear against it. Satisfied that no one had noticed, he turned his head. The room was bathed in bright moonlight. At its center stood a large, carved bed with a blue canopy embroidered with gold.
The heir to the throne slept soundly, both hands tucked under his cheek. His raven-black hair spilled across the silk pillow. In the moonlight, his skin appeared almost ghostly white.
Merlin stopped a few steps away. Tension coiled inside him as he realized what he was about to do.
“How could such a kind, bright boy turn into such a monster? I thought I knew you well! Forgive me…” His hands trembled. “I’m doing this to save my family. You’re not to blame. Not yet…”
Drawing the dagger from its sheath, Merlin closed the remaining distance. Just then, the boy’s eyelashes fluttered. Startled, Merlin took a step back.
“You won’t suffer long. The dagger is made of alkanar*. You’ll die quickly,” he reassured himself.
Merlin didn’t understand why he was hesitating. He didn’t have much time to stand here and gather his thoughts. Anger flared at himself. So much preparation, and for what?
“You won’t fool me with your appearance anymore…” he whispered, his dark gaze burning into his sleeping enemy.
The boy grimaced, as if sensing something. But this time, Merlin wasn’t going to delay. He needed one precise strike—straight to the heart.
Morl twitched, as if someone had tugged at his shoulder. His eyelashes fluttered, and he opened his eyes. The boy stared at the mage with a look of pure terror.
“Teacher…” He genuinely didn’t understand why his closest friend wanted to kill him. “Why?”
Merlin tried to ignore those glossy black eyes. His hesitation would cost him. He had no intention of answering, so he gripped the dagger tighter, ready to strike.
[1] Alkanar – a material used to craft weapons that can kill immortals (ineffective against deities)