"Welcome, welcome," said Lord Stewart. "Please, enter my parlor."

A group of young patients sat scattered around the room. Laura Doon sat on a sofa together with her mentor, Bridgette. Micheal Dressy stood talking quietly with his mentor. George Faraday and Hank Smyth appeared friendly in spite of their mentors' cooling friendship (which the author is too lazy to bother writing about). Lisa Myers came alone --her mentor was in the infirmary with a bad case of influenza. Nishi and Melody sat the piano with Nishi encouraging her to play if she wanted. "It's okay," she said. "That's what it's here for."

"But--"

"Lord Stewart is fond of the music."

"She's right," said the Lord. "Here I do not require so much formality from my guests. I want you to feel entirely comfortable as if this were your home. Ginny?"

"Yes, my Lord?" a elderly woman appeared from the hall.

"Fetch the tea, will you?"

"Of course, my Lord." And as quickly, she was gone.

"Please play, if you're up to it," the Lord said.

So, Melody lifted her hands to the keys and started a gentle melody. Everyone quieted, letting the music fill the room. Minutes later, she placed her hands on her knees.

Nishi heard George whisper, "Oh, my. Do you think she can express?"

"With that playing?" came the quiet reply, "I hope not."

"I hope so."

"Shhhh," Nishi shot an angry glance at the talkers behind her.

Lord Stewart cleared his throat. "You're aptly named, Melody."

"Thank you, sir."

"Now, that's a new piece by Debussy. I had the opportunity to hear it only a month ago. How did you come across it?"

"I visited London recently and heard it there."

"You learned it just like that?"

"I practiced. A lot."

"Astounding."

Ginny entered again, this time with several other servants, all carrying various confections or tea settings. Cups and saucers, and dainty things were laid out for each guest and all took a seat at one or another table.

After they all settled in with their treats, Lord Stewart began, "I have what I hope is an sharp little provocation by way of a story. I don't know if it is fiction or real or some mixture of the two. Stories tend to be distillations of experience later fortified with pleasant embellishments."

Nishi ordered her eyes not to roll. She leaned over to Melody and whispered, "It gets better."

"Have you heard this?"

"I don't know, yet."

"Ehem," said the Lord, "may I continue? Good. You've all heard of Merlin, magician in the court of the legendary King Arthur Pendragon."

"Was he real?" asked Hank.

"I can't say that I know," said the Lord. "I can say that I think King Arthur is probably not real, at least the way he's portrayed. As for Merlin, he's entirely plausible. In fact there are many structures of great influence throughout the land which are said to bear his signature. But, again, I cannot tell you yes or no."

It was Melody's turn. "What kind of magic did he do --if he was real?"

"Oh, like any true wizard, he'd have done it all.  But, even true wizards never quite matched him. Imagine touching an artifact that someone else crafted. Your lover's cloak, for instance, instantly cursed to bring pain --or blessed to bring joy. Imagine the power to force all manner of the influences, static and flowing, to bring down pillars of flame upon your enemies or to gently curate the growth of a delicate bloom. Imagine the perfect reduction in the palm of your hand --sans admixture. A drop could kill millions or bring millions from the dead. There were such people as could do such things, but Merlin --well, I'm no expert, though I've had the opportunity to dabble in the art of reduction at the University of Heidelberg."

Nishi turned to Melody to joke about the flowery language. But, Melody was rapt. Her eyes were wide. Why was she smiling? 

Lord Stewart paused to take a sip of his tea. "Where was I? Before the stories of King Arthur, there were others of Merlin and the mere mortals who sought him out. What I'm about to tell goes something like this. In the days before there was a Britain, when kingdoms the size of your hand fought for supremacy over the land. Before there was Excalibur, or the legend of it. Before God or the gods cursed, blessed, then cursed the land again. Before all that, there was Merlin. Well, before that there was the child whose mother named him Merlin."

"Was he a wizard, then?" asked Laura.

"No. If he were, he would have probably killed himself and taken half the country with him. Children are loving, intelligent creatures, but they're not very wise." Lord Stewart took a cookie (** biscuit? I'm not sure about using British terms when I'm guaranteed to be inconsistent.) then continued his story.  "At the time, he lived a peasant's life on a farm outside an unnamed castle far to the north where the ice is barely held at bay. The Lady of the castle could not bear children, and she and her husband had fallen into a deep despair. The Lady stole out of the castle one late night, during the summer solstice, and found her a coven of witches."

The Lord paused for gasps to die down. "Don't worry," he said. "Then, as now, the term sometimes was used against honest magic workers, but don't assume evil, even when the name is colored that way. The Lady was looking for the Witch Bonifacia, who was known to grant boons for money and for free when the mood strikes her --stuck her. But the witch could not help. When the Lady asked why, the witch refused to explain. The Lady persisted until the witch relented. She said: It is an evil thing that you want, though you know it not. To bring your child into the world, another must leave it. It is the foulest magic. Such that would drive its doer mad and has done so.

There is more, but it's lost to antiquity. Suffice it to say, that the Lady was set in her desire. And, not heeding the warning of the Witch Bonificia, sought out a mad magician named Lucius. She had a hunch that he had tried such magic before. She was right. You see, in this modern era, Lucius would be with us, safe from the pain of his deeds and society would be safe from him. But there was no such place for him, so he shut himself off from the world to live out his days. But the Lady sought him out. She found him after a year of searching, but that is another story. Again, she met with resistance as he denied her. Again she insisted. She would not relent. She described her inner pain, her love for her Lord, and his suffering without an heir. Some say she was a potent expressionist, but even the lowest magician can withstand that. Others say his madness was enough to weaken his resolve. For whatever reason he did as she asked."

Lord Stewart paused to take more tea. The room was silent, with his guests staring at him, waiting for the story to finish. The Lord only sipped his tea and tasted his cake.

Nishi broke the silence. "Is that the story?"

"No. I just want to rest my voice. Try the Sachertorte."

Everyone took the pause in the story to get more treats and to whisper to one another. Nishi said to Melody, "this is the most interesting evening I've ever spent here."

"You come a lot?" asked Melody.

"A couple of times, but he's legendary for his boring teas and talk of 'manly' pursuits."

Once he finished his tea, Lord Stewart continued. "Where was I? Oh, yes --the Lady went home and followed some rules or other that Lucius set out for her. Inside of a week, she was pregnant. Inside of a month she was showing. And, the next year, she gave birth to a boy-child. Her conscience began to weigh on her, but she pushed her misgivings aside and she and her husband raised their little child with all the love anyone could wish for.

What she did not understand was the nature of the magic that was used. Lucius took the vitae from a young boy and concealed it within the Lady. I don't expect you to know about the side effects of vital reductions, but they are manifold and often terrible. The horror first revealed itself years later when the Lady, walking through the local village, spied a boy who was the spitting image of her son. She almost called out to him, but for the fact that he was slack-jawed and his eyes were vacant. The unfortunate young man's mother saw the Lady's fear and rushed forward to comfort her, telling the Lady that the strange young man was no danger. But, the Lady would have none of it and fled back to the castle where she could hide herself from what she saw. But, she could no longer hide what she'd started from herself, nor could she stand to look upon her own lovely boy whose doppelganger roamed the country below. The servants noticed, the Lord noticed, and certainly her child noticed this change of mood.

Months went by, and the Lady could stand it no longer and began to plot the destruction of this other child. I'm sure all of you have already come to the right conclusion that it was this village idiot's vitae that was taken and with it his life, in a manner of speaking. Now, would you call that murder?"

"Yes," said Nishi, without hesitation.

"But," said Lord Stewart, "He still walks. He still brings joy to his own mother in some fashion, and perhaps he's happy." 

"How was he before the change?" asked Bridgette.

"Maybe, he would have been like any of you, had he been allowed to grow. He would have been a child in difficult times. He was barely an infant when the magic was done, so maybe he was spared a life of pain. But, let me continue."

Nishi looked around the room and could see the total concentration of every person --Melody most of all.

"Well," said Lord Stewart, "the Lady made discreet inquiries about the denizens of the village, ostensibly with the desire toward acts of charity. She began making weekly trips to the same village to help provide for its most needy constituents. Her family was aware and didn't disapprove. Her son was curious, however. But, whenever he asked to accompany her, she forbade it. He asked why. She replied that it was far too dangerous. He asked how she could go. She promised that she was careful and could recognize any number dangers. These answers did not satisfy the young man, so he determined to follow her."

Nishi couldn't take her eyes of Melody. It bothered her that her new found friend was wrapped up in the story. But, she couldn't understand why she felt so uncomfortable.

"So," the Lord continued, "her son hid among casks of wine destined for the poor houses and stayed hid for the long journey to the village."

The grandfather clock chimed. "Well," he said "I think we had better call it a night. Let's say we continue this tomorrow, yes?"

There was a unanimous yes from around the room in the form of bobbing heads and excited whispers.

"You want to continue this tomorrow?" asked Nishi.

"Oh, yes." Melody nodded vigorously. "It's a wonderful tale."

"I doubt it ends well."

"Let's find out."

"Yes, let's." Nishi didn't feel very excited about it, but if Melody insisted, there wasn't any reason to argue.

On the way to their halls, the boys and girls talked excitedly about the evening. The mentors described their previous, boring visits --much to the surprise of their charges. 

Nishi and Melody stood each by their doors. "I think I feel okay," Melody said.

"I'm glad," said Nishi. "It's not going to be easy, but I think you'll be okay. Anyway, I'll be here for you, Melody."

"Call me Mel, okay?"

"Okay."