"Please, come in." The voice that emerged from the portal carried weight – not just in its tone, but in the way it seemed to ripple through the air like stones dropped in still water.
Vespera stepped through without hesitation. Alex exchanged quick glances with his friends before following, his heart hammering against his ribs. The transition felt like stepping through a curtain of warm water, and then—
The first thing that hit him was the smell – old books and something else, something that reminded him of Sunday afternoons at his grandparents' house. The tension in his shoulders melted before he even realized it was there. The office felt *different* from the cathedral's cold grandeur, like stepping into a space that existed slightly sideways from reality.
Behind an ancient oak desk sat a man who could only be Merlin. Alex had expected someone imposing, maybe someone who radiated power like Graves or charm like Vespera. Instead, he found himself looking at an elderly man with kind eyes, casually marking a piece of parchment with a quill that gleamed like starlight.
"Please, take a seat." Merlin didn't look up from his work, but his free hand traced a pattern in the air. Three mahogany chairs materialized from nothing, their wooden forms assembling like puzzle pieces clicking into place.
"Hot damn," Max whispered, earning an elbow from Randy.
Alex sank into the nearest chair, unable to take his eyes off Merlin. Grayish-white hair fell past the wizard's shoulders, and his well-groomed beard gave him the look of someone who'd stepped out of a fantasy movie – except there was something in his presence that no special effects could capture. It wasn't just wisdom; it was the weight of centuries.
Merlin set his quill down with deliberate care. When he looked up, a pulse of light whispered through the room, leaving Alex's skin tingling like he'd brushed against an electric fence.
"'Tis true what Graves said." Merlin's eyes held galaxies. "You are indeed Daywalkers." He folded weathered hands on the desk, and Alex noticed thin scars tracing patterns across his knuckles. "I am Merlin, Headmaster of Darkwood Academy and guardian of humanity's United Front against Lord Erebuzal, the Primordial of Darkness." His gaze settled on each of them in turn. "And you are...?"
"Alex Lunaria." "Max Greyson." "Randy Oswald."
Their names came out in unison, like a practiced choir. Alex's mouth snapped shut. "How did you make us do that?"
Merlin smiled. "'Tis but a simple trick. Now then, I suspect you have questions. Ask them—for there's no better teacher than one who has walked your path."
"You see," Merlin's eyes grew distant, "in my youth, I was naught but a simple lad—son of a noble Lord in a modest town. No more than a thousand souls, quite quaint. We did our duty, collected taxes, sent them to the crown. They cared for us, and we in turn—"
Cough. Cough.
In the corner, Vespera cleared her throat pointedly.
"Ah, my apologies." Merlin straightened. "'Tis an old man's weakness to wander through memories. You were asking questions?"
Alex blinked, thrown off by the headmaster's scattered rambling. "Right... well, most pressing things first: What are we? And how do we get home?"
"Ah, the eternal questions—what we are and where our paths may lead." Merlin's voice softened. "You deserve truth, after such a day. Your world turned upside down by demons, your safety shattered—'tis only fair you receive clear answers."
"'Tis thus: we call you Daywalkers for you come from Earth, where the sun rules your sky. Here on Terra, darkness claims most of our cycle. We are Nightwalkers, you are Daywalkers. Simple as that."
"And getting home?" Alex pressed.
"'Tis... rather more complex than that. The heroes who performed the banishment—they scattered their knowledge like seeds in the wind. Each worked from different corners of the world, in castles, manors, and hidden laboratories. What we've gathered here in our kingdom is mayhap twenty parts of a hundred of their complete research."
Standing, Merlin walked to his bookshelf and retrieved a thin volume, no more than three hundred pages. He placed it carefully on the desk. The worn cover read simply: Journal Notes of King Arthur.
'King Arthur? Like... the guy from legends?' Alex's eyes widened as the pieces clicked into place. 'Wait—Merlin... King Arthur...' He stared at the headmaster, really seeing him for the first time. Not just a man named Merlin, but the Merlin.
His jaw dropped.
"Oh wow, that's kind of weird that your name is Merlin and there's a book about King Arthur—" Max suddenly shot up from his chair, pointing at Merlin like he'd spotted a celebrity. "Holy crap, you're *Merlin*! Like, from the books and TV shows?"
Merlin's eyes crinkled with amusement. "So they still remember old Art and me, do they? Hmm." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Two thousand years and people still know our names. I suppose we did manage a few... noteworthy deeds."
He chuckled. "Though I must tell you, young Max, 'tis likely I'm not quite the legend those tales paint me to be. Pray, be seated and rest easy."
With a casual flick of his wrist, Max's excitement seemed to evaporate like morning dew. He sank back into his chair, suddenly calm.
Alex, ignoring his friends' presence, fixed his gaze on Merlin. The ancient wizard's aura seemed to pulse with each heartbeat, a subtle reminder of the power contained within his deceptively frail form. The question that had been gnawing at Alex's thoughts finally spilled out, carried on a breath that felt heavy with destiny.
"There's a price for all this knowledge you're giving us, right?" His voice carried a hint of wariness, each word carefully measured. Growing up, he'd learned that nothing truly valuable came without cost—a lesson that seemed especially relevant in this realm of magic and monsters.
Merlin's ancient eyes studied Alex, galaxies of wisdom swirling in their depths. A flicker of approval crossed his weathered features, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. "'Tis but a modest price I seek," he said, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "I want you to join my Academy."
The air itself seemed to still as he paused, letting the words settle like dust motes caught in shafts of ethereal light. "Mayhap you think this a simple matter, but I assure you, 'tis everything. For two thousand years, my Academy has stood steadfast against the demon hordes. I've tutored warriors, sorcerers, wizards, witches, and mages in abundance—yet never, in all my years, have I had the privilege of instructing a Daywalker. That alone is payment enough."
Max tilted his head, confusion rippling across his features like waves on a disturbed pond. "That's it?"
The corners of Merlin's eyes crinkled, ancient knowledge dancing behind his gaze. "You see, the very essence of our world flows through the bloodlines that course through our veins. My own power commands the elements themselves, while others may wield the strength of desire or physical might. Your origin from another realm suggests bloodlines yet unknown to us—perhaps magics never before witnessed in all our recorded history."
The excitement in Merlin's voice was palpable, crackling through the air like static before a storm. His eyes gleamed with scholarly enthusiasm, thoughts clearly racing toward the possibilities these boys represented. For all he knew, they could hold the key to finally defeating Erebuzal.
'He won't turn us into lab rats, right?' Alex thought, studying Merlin's expression with careful intensity. "And you only want to study this bloodline, right?" he asked, noting the eager glint in the wizard's eyes.
Merlin's laughter rang out like distant bells, echoing with genuine amusement. "Nay, young one, fear not such crude experimentations. The bloodlines be sacred vessels, their power bound to the very essence of thy being. To forcibly extract such power would render it naught but empty vessel—like a heart torn from its chest, the magic would cease to beat."
Alex felt his shoulders ease slightly, though wariness still lingered at the edges of his mind. While Merlin's words couldn't be entirely trusted, their circumstances left little room for choice. If this ancient wizard truly offered a path home, they would have to place their faith in him, despite the lingering shadows of doubt.
"Now then," Merlin continued, his fingers weaving arcane patterns in the air that left trailing whispers of light, "'tis time to show you to your chambers. The autumn term begins in two weeks." A portal shimmered into existence behind them with a casual twirl of his hand, its edges rippling like heat waves over summer pavement. "Vespera will show you everything you need to know and provide all necessities. Should you have questions, mayhap ask your OSA—though I suppose I should explain what that is." His smile seemed to cast years from his ancient visage. "'Twas a pleasure speaking with you. May fortune guide your path."
Vespera pushed off the wall she'd been leaning against, her movement as fluid as shadow across water. The boys rose from their seats, their movements weighted with the gravity of all they'd learned.
Randy, who had been silent since introducing himself, finally spoke. "Thank you, Mr. Merlin. We'll make sure to make the most of this opportunity." He bowed his head slightly before turning toward the portal, the gesture carrying both respect and uncertainty. Alex and Max followed suit, offering their own respectful bows.
Stepping through the portal brought back that familiar sensation of cosmic pressure, though this time the boys walked through with steadier steps. The weight of Merlin's offer—and the hope it carried—seemed to ground them against the otherworldly forces that had once left them staggering.
Emerging into a hallway that echoed the ornate style of the teleporting room the boys make way to their new home. As the portal sealed shut behind them with a sound like sighing wind, their footsteps echoed against the tiled floor in a rhythm.
Breaking the silence Max couldn't stop him self from talking about what just happen.
"Dude, I can't believe that was the actual Merlin!" Max's voice bounced off the walls, excitement finally breaking through his earlier shock like sunshine through storm clouds.
"I know, right?" Randy shook his head in disbelief, his glasses catching the ethereal light. "I thought it was just a coincidence his name was Merlin and he happened to be a wizard, but this? This is insane!"
"Guys," Alex cut in, his tone grounding their excitement like an anchor in turbulent seas, "I get it. Yes, it's crazy that he's the Merlin and friends with King Arthur. But maybe we should focus on the bigger picture here—he's offering us a way home. That's kind of a big deal."
The weight of Alex's words settled over them like a heavy cloak, tempering their amazement with the gravity of their situation. The ornate hallway stretched before them, leading toward an uncertain future in a world where legends walked and magic was real—and somehow, they'd ended up right in the middle of it all, their ordinary lives transformed into something extraordinary with the crossing of a single threshold.
What is considered normal of this world was fantasy of his, nothing seems to make sense. Portal's demons magic and bloodlines, all very much too confusing for Alex. Right now, all he hopes that it won't take too long to reach home.