The year: 2023

Dragon's Den
Oadley,
Albion

[Marty's POV]

It was silly to think that the furniture was talking, right? I mean, how could it? Yes, I admit that when I had heard about how the packages had not revealed their contents to anyone who had tried to look inside them, and the fact that my name and address were written on the objects that were hidden between two walls for over a thousand years, did stray me away from my belief that there was no such thing as magic. But it lasted only for a moment. 

Why? Because I knew things now that I didn't before when I had made the trip to South Wales almost ten years ago in search of an imaginary sword that belonged to a man who was nothing but a legend… a myth: Arthur Pendragon. 

***

Nine years ago:

"Doctor Drew, you asked to see me?" I knocked on the door and poked my head inside my father's best friend's office. 

"Ah, yes. Come on inside, son.' Boy, have you grown!" The man dressed in a white coat stood up from his recliner and beamed at me, gesturing to me to enter. 

His inviting demure dissolved and any hesitation I had about visiting the psychiatrist who had helped us with legal property matters after Dad's disappearance. 'Erm, thanks, I guess."

"You look a lot like your dad." He stated, giving me a once over and pointing me to the couch. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

I did as instructed and replied. "Yes, I have been told that… often." I wasn't sure why Mum wanted me to visit Dr. Drew, but if I had to guess, it must have had something to do with my perpetually rotten mood over the better part of the year.

The man sat next to me and got straight to the point. "Marty, your mum is worried about you."

"I don't see why, I mean-"

Dr. Drew interjected. "There is a history of mental illness in your family, Marty."

"Excuse me!?" The statement shocked me to my core. I wondered if he was joking with me. 

"Marty, your dad was a good friend of mine." The doctor pulled in a deep breath. "Just before he disappeared, he started hearing things. He kept it from me and hid it even from your mother. A few days before he abandoned you and your Mum, he visited me," he confessed, eyes swimming with regret.

"He did!?"

With eyes lowered to the white marble floor, my father's best man continued. "Yes. You see, before him, his father and grandfather, too, heard voices. They thought that they could talk to things. Both of them refused treatment. They eventually went insane and died alone."

"That's I-" His admission left me speechless. 

"I am not done." The doctor's shoulders slumped. "Marty, your dad was a good man, a brilliant man. He even pursued medicine and got picked by the royal healer as his apprentice. Alas, even after all he had achieved, he couldn't get away from what he called his family's curse."

"Curse?"

"Schizophrenia, my boy. Your family has a tendency for it. We didn't have a term for it in your great-grandfather's time, but Foster suspected that that's what he must have had."

"Dad knew about his condition!?" I demanded, hoping that Dr. Drew had misspoken.

"Yes, he even started the treatment, but for some reason, he discontinued it. The day I saw your dad last, he was convinced that all he had seen and heard was true. He even confessed to watching a crime-" 

"Crime?"

The man in white shifted in his seat. "Never mind that," he waved his hand dismissively. "What's important is that your mother thinks you are hearing voices and maybe seeing things that aren't there. Marty, why do you think that is? Son, the earlier we diagnose it-"

"I don't know why she thinks that way, Doctor." I interrupted him. I wasn't hearing voices. I was fine. Perfectly fine! 

"Maybe she is worried about me," I added, throwing my hands up in the air and shrugging. "After all, that's what mothers do. They worry unnecessarily." Not wanting to wait there even a second more, I stood up. "I will talk to her asap. Please, rest assured." I promised the good-natured man.

"If that's the case, I am glad your mother was wrong." He said, sounding relieved. "But son, if you ever need to visit me, don't hesitate, alright?"

"I won't. Thank you, doctor." With that, I was out the door.

***

In the time I had spent in South Wales, I had found jack squat! What's more, I didn't get any visions either. When I reached The Avalon lake, which was no more than a puddle- had been for over ten years- I found nothing there that could prove that magic was real. 

After visiting Dr. Drew and understanding what was probably happening, I did not want to make the same mistake as my father and generations before him had made. 

I had thrown away my research and everything else I had collected to understand all that there was to know about Arthur and his sorcerer, Merlin. I vowed to never think about the golden-haired man with a smile that could put the afternoon sun to shame and his dragon heart, a magician so loyal that he dedicated everything to his king.

I decided that there could never be a friendship that could transcend barriers of status and rank. A bond so deep that the lines of authority and propriety between them blurred and bled into each other. 

After I had started to hear the coffee table talking four days prior, I had stuck to the vow that I had made to myself all those years ago, when I had decided that I couldn't disappoint my family and shrug my responsibilities just to run behind things that probably only existed in my mind. 

Clang! 

The sound of metal hitting the floor dragged me out of my musings. I rushed to the walk-in closet and saw that the knob that held the door shut was unscrewed and fallen on the floor, rolling from side to side as if unable to decide where it wanted to go. 

With the door knob gone, the door stood ajar as if it was mocking me to try any other tricks I might have to keep it closed. 

"You want to stay open? Well, then. Have it your way; see if I give a damn!" I snapped at the inanimate object and turned heel.

If you thought I could get away without hearing the imaginary conversations between the residents of the tiny space, you would be wrong. 

'If he still doesn't cooperate, I will make all the colorful sugar in his dwelling disappear; just wait and watch.' It seemed like the man, Merlin, was somehow responsible for my missing cereal box.

I heard the woman giggle. 

'I thought you were better at this waiting game than me. What's got your knickers in a bunch?'

'Morgana, could you please not use such language.' It looked like Merlin really didn't like Morgana using crude language, I guessed. 

'Why? I like it. Moreover, there is nothing else I can do except endure your company and learn the new phrases that are used now, can I?'

I wondered how different the language must have been a thousand years ago but came up with nothing. But I concurred with the woman. It's always good to learn new 'lingo.' When in Rome, do as the Romans do. 

'Erm, you have a point.' It surprised me to hear the man agree with the woman. 'By the way, do you feel the sudden chill in the… Did the boy finally come around? Can he hear us?'

Oh, dear! 

'Why is he just standing there looking at us like that?'

Fuck! 

I needed to come up with something. Pronto. "Damn it! There goes the knob again." I whined, massaging my temples. "Why does it keep doing that?" 

Seeing as the two had fallen silent, I continued examining the door, checking the multiple screws and nuts that had, once upon a time, held the brass knob in its place. 

"Maybe it is time I stop fixing it on my own and let a locksmith come take a look at it." I contemplated, switching on the light and peeking into the room. Stepping inside, I checked the vent in the ceiling and did the same with the already bolted window.

I hoped the duo would hold their peace till I turned in for the night when they started again. 

'Do you suppose someone knows of our existence?'

I tried to tune Merlin out, but curiosity got the best of me. What did he mean by the question? 

'Why do you ask?'

'The lad has touched the amulet, has the missing piece, and has come of age; unless someone has tampered with his powers, he should have been able to hear us.'

Oh, right, they think I can't hear them. I was worried for nothing. I breathed a sigh of relief.

'It has been over a thousand years. Do you think someone with dark magic could have survived?'

What the hell did she mean by dark magic!? 

'I hope not. Do you suspect anyone in particular? You were close to them for a while.'

Wait a freaking moment! Morgana was close to dark magic practitioners? Even though I had no clue what they were referring to, I was sure it was nothing good. It was called 'dark' magic, after all. 

And what was that about 'tampering with my powers?' I needed to know more. I hung around in the closet, cleaning up the month-old mess I had put off cleaning as I waited to hear Morgana's reply, but it seemed that she was either thinking about it or had chosen to ignore it. It wouldn't be the first time Merlin had asked a question that Morgana had left answered. 

Had they really waited for a thousand years? What were they waiting for? I remember the coffee table being in our house forever. Did it talk to Dad too? What about grandfather? 

I squatted next to the furniture that had forced me to think about things I wanted to forget. I realized that I had let my emotions slip through my eyes when the woman whispered, 'I wonder why he is crying. Merlin, do something.'

'Like what!?'

'Take off the invisibility charm from the box of sweets. Maybe that will cheer the lad up.' Morgana suggested.

'I don't think that's going to help; I think something has happened.'

'I have never seen him like this. Maybe he is missing his father. Foster was a nice man, was he not?'

What!? My ears perked up at the mention of my dad. For the first time, I wished I could communicate with the voices. 

'Yes, he was. I wish he could have heard us. Maybe then we could have made him stay.'

'He had the gift too. I am sure of it. He had a strong aura.'

'Of course, he did. The Wyllt family has always had magical blood. It's a pity that not all of them were as powerful as he is.'

Was Merlin referring to me? Why did he think that I was powerful? 

'Are you sure this boy is the one?'

'It's him, Morgana. He is the one. I just never asked him when exactly in his time did he find us.'

His time? That sounded like some time-travel shit. And what the hell did they mean by the one!? Were they really talking about me? And if they were, why were they making me sound like Harry freakin Potter!

I panicked a little, thinking about 'the poor chosen one.' I couldn't take it anymore. Even though I wanted to know more about Dad, I couldn't continue to listen to them at the cost of my sanity. I pulled out my phone and stood up, pretending to read a message. 

'Is he leaving us here again?' Morgana's disappointed voice reached me as I stepped out of the closet. 

'Probably. I wish I knew how-'

I slammed the closet shut before Merlin could finish his thought and made myself a warm cup of milk to calm my nerves.

Unfortunately, before I could get even halfway through the beverage, a crack, followed by a crash, startled me, making me sprint across almost the entirety of my home, arriving at the source of the commotion: my bedroom.