The year: 921

Lastshire: The Birthplace of Old Magic

[Merlin's POV]

I didn't know what to believe or who to put my trust in. The high priestess had told me that Balinor and her were my parents. However, he had never cheated on Luella, the woman who would forever be my mother.

Apparently, my blood was considered special, even among those with magic. The high priestess elaborated how after their affair, she had broken ties with him due to his closeness to Uther, only to reach out to him after I was born. My father had already married my mother by then. Not wanting to break the trust Luella had placed in him, he had agreed to take me in instead. Shortly after that, Luella had fallen pregnant. However, their joy had turned into sadness when in a dream, my father had a vision that indicated that if the child came into the world, it would spell doom for Albion.

The right thing to do would have been to kill the infant, but my father had fallen weak. Caught between duty and fatherly love, he had sealed the child's magic and left him at the doorstep of a family who didn't have kids of their own instead. That infant was none other than Lancelot; to remove the evidence of his sin, my father manipulated my mother's memories, making her believe I was theirs. 

"I know my actions must seem evil and conceited to you now, but I couldn't keep you with me, Merlin. Your bloodline had to be kept a secret as well. I did what I thought was the best at the time." Nimueh had said before falling silent. 

I didn't know what or how to feel about what I had heard. The truth had rendered me speechless. Glancing between my biological parents, I wondered why none had told me the truth about Lancelot. Would knowing the truth have helped me stir Lancelot away from his destiny? 

"All that doesn't matter now," my father said. His eyes held determination, "You need to work with Marty and do everything exactly like he says if you want to see Morgana again."

"Morgana?" I repeated. I had seen her not long ago. She was of flesh and blood; I was sure of it. 

"Yes, the Morgana you saw not long ago belongs to your future. If you want to keep your promise to her to give her back her body, you need to listen to the boy." The high priestess smirked like she knew something I didn't want her- or anyone- to know. It made me feel a little exposed. It seemed everyone knew what the feisty woman meant to me and approved of us getting together. 

'Don't even think about it, Merlin. She is far above your status. Just concentrate on making up for your sins.' A small voice from within me showed me the mirror and squished spark that the high priestess had lit.

Once again, I took stock of my situation: I was already trapped, had no clue how to get back into my body, and had dragged Morgana along with me. The only silver lining was that I still had magic. Was that supposed to help me stay alive? 

The more I thought about it, the more it became clear that I had no choice but to do as told. 

"Fine. Tell me what you want from me." I caved, and a little bit later, I summoned Arnica, who called Lastshire shire home already and thus was free to come and go as it pleased. The mighty eagle delivered the stone of Erer that I had entrusted to it to Nimueh and took off into the nearby woods. 

With the high priestess- my mother- and my father in the middle, flanked by my lookalike and me on either side, the high priestess explained how a connection to the past was needed for the spell they were about to cast to work. She told me how the youngster from the future was supposed to carry it forward. 

"Merlin, remember, whatever he tells you, you need to follow it without fail," Nimueh advised sternly. 

I bobbed my head and glanced at Marty, who winked at me and declared, "Don't worry, I will protect you. After all, I was taught by you and Mistress Morgana. So, are you ready? We are going to make three pit stops."

"Three?" I asked to confirm, and he nodded. Holding up three fingers like I had seen Morgana do often, he started listing the places. 

1.) The enchanted forest. 

2.) The Pendragon Castle

3.) Your hideout. 

I felt uneasy. I hadn't been to Arthur's (now Guinevere's) court since my king had passed; I didn't know what anyone would say or how they would react when they realized I wouldn't be useful anymore.

"Don't think about it too much, Master; I will not let any calamity befall you." 

I was sure his words were meant to reassure me, but they had the opposite effect. Still, I kept my wits about and nodded, not wanting the youngster to worry about my state of mind on top of everything else. 

"Ready?" Marty Wyllt asked; without waiting for my response, he threw his palms out and pointed them at my father, "Now!" he exclaimed. Purple stings of light escaped them; passing through me, they joined my father's yellow ones. 

The ground shook, and my father disappeared.

"What… " My eyes locked with Marty; he smiled confidently. "Everything is alright, Master." he mouthed and vanished into thin air just like my father had. 

I stood there feeling lost. Not knowing what to do, I glanced at the high priestess, "My Lady," I addressed her, but it didn't feel right. Was she really my mother? It didn't make sense.

"Merlin, I understand that you must be feeling confused and uncertain. I should have told you about us long ago or not at all, but I didn't have a choice." She pursed her lips, "If you so desire before you return to Morgana's side, I will take this knowledge away from you."

I nodded and replied without hesitation, "I would like that, My Lady. " 

Nimueh smiled, "Why am I not surprised." She held up her palm, "They are about to return."

An instant later, the man, my descendant, materialized exactly from where he had disappeared, with the ussa, looking frail and malnourished, appearing next to him right after. Slowly, things started to become clear. Ten years ago, when I had seen the lad, Marty, in the enchanted forest, he had come from here, eventually returning to Lastshire with Skarla in tow. 

"Ma'am," he addressed the high priestess reverently, "It's done."

I glanced between Marty and the high priestess wanting to know what exactly had transpired, and the latter replied, "Merlin, I sent Balinor into your past to help Morgana and her handmaid enter the enchanted forest. I am sure you remember the first time you saw this creature." Picking up the ussa in her arms and cradling it lovingly, she continued, "Skarla is the last of her kind. Thanks to you and Morgana, she survived the evil that wanted to devour it."

"My Lady-"

My next question about the incident was interrupted by the high priestess, "Merlin, the less you know, the better it is. Akurra is-"

I kicked myself for not remembering what Morgana had told me earlier and blurted out, "Akurra is dead."

"No, he isn't. But he is not alive either." The high priestess lowered her eyes to look at the young ussa. Even though I couldn't see her face, I, for some reason, knew what she was about to tell me would cause her pain, "Lancelot has taken control over the ancient one's conscience," she looked at me. Her pursed lips and narrowed eyes conveyed her deep annoyance, "The Excalibur was forged from dragon's breath, elven blood, and Nefarious magic. After Arthur's demise, you hid it in the depths of Lake Avalon; someone must have guessed the location, for somehow Lancelot found it. I suspect it to be the work of an ancient evil that has had its claws in the mortal realm for eons now."

How come I was hearing about it only now!? Why wasn't I warned about it? 

"You don't have the power to stop it, Merlin; neither do I. So it would have been wasteful to add to your troubles when you had your hands full." The high priestess sat the ussa down, and the creature disappeared into the now-dark woods. "Time is like water, son. Anything you add or remove from it will only be visible to the doer."

I blinked, "Once we have made sure that the creature can be of use in the mortal realm, we will send it back to where it belongs."

"You mean next to Morgana, don't you?"

The high priestess replied with a nod. "You were always smart, so I won't waste time explaining the intricacies of time to you. I am sure you will figure it out." 

I agreed with her and pressed on. "I need to know more about Lancelot, my lady." 

The woman shook her head. "All you need to know is that right now, in your present, the sword that will write Albion's future lays buried inside the serpent's belly. Only Arthur can pull it out of him."

"My Lady-" I started, but she held up her hand, "I know everything, Merlin." She glanced at the purple-cloaked youngster. "You need to keep part of the gateway and the stone of Erer where no one will find it till its time. Do you have any doubts?"

"No, ma'am." Marty Wyllt replied and held his hand out. The high priestess muttered a spell of concealment and handed over the stone of Erer and a black-colored pearl to him. 

"Merlin," My mother's eyes shone with unshed tears, "You are the most powerful sorcerer to ever exist. Even though you will have no form moving forward, you will still be you. Your power lies in your heart. Make sure that the Wyllt line stays hidden. That is the only way they will survive."

Unexpectedly, her words gave me courage. I nodded, feeling confident for the first time since losing Arthur. 

"When you leave, you will only have those memories I deem fit for you to know now. When we meet in the future, you will not recall the complete secret of your bloodline. I will be your high priestess again." The woman smiled through her tears; snapping her fingers, she said, "See you in eleven hundred years, son."

The air around me swirled. A moment later, I found myself in a brightly lit space, not much roomier than the elm tree Morgana and I were occupying. 

"Master Merlin, can you hear me?" A familiar voice, Marty's, I concluded, filled the place. 

"Yes." I replied. Uncertain about my surroundings, I enquired, "Where am I?"

"You are in the stone of Erer, Master. As I told you earlier, we have a job that we need to do, and I need you to guide me through it," the boy replied, sounding as uncertain as I felt.