“Yes, Father.”
***
“Another dragon I take it?”
Trystan paused his wood carving and glanced up over his shoulder at his best friend. “You know they are my favorite of the mythological creatures.”
“Your father’s as well.” Emrys searched his upturned gaze, ignoring the strain in his chest. He sat beside Trystan, breathing slow and deep. “They are beautiful.”
“Yes,” Trystan whispered. “I had that strange vision again, Emrys.”
Emrys grabbed an apple from the wooden bowl in the center of the table and rolled it between his fingers. “The same?”
“Mostly.” Trystan returned his attention to the small piece of wood in his hand beginning to take the shape of a dragon. With his knife, he refined the creature’s head and slender neck. “This time, however, in addition to the woman, I saw two men. The one she called Myrddin—he reminded me of you.”
“Interesting.”
“Do you think it means anything?”
Emrys hesitated. All of these events were converging for a reason. It was time. “What you keep seeing, Trystan… is a memory."
Trystan paused his wood carving. “Then you have been lying to me.” Hurt and betrayal laced his impassive tone.
“Trystan—”
“You are related to him, aren’t you? The old man in my dream.”
“No, Trystan. It’s time you knew the truth.” Emrys leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and pressed his palms together. Inhaling deeply through his nose and letting the air out slowly, he looked up at Trystan. “I am him.”
“You’re Myrddin?” Trystan’s brow crinkled and his lip curled up a little. “How is that even possible?”
Emrys closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment.
Trystan watched as a blue aura surrounded Emrys. Wrinkles appeared in his skin. His brown hair turned mousy gray. Lean muscles disappeared and his body thinned, his clothes loosening a little. He looked about seventy-five years old and a perfect match to the image Trystan recalled from his dream.
Correction.Memory.
The blue aura faded, and Emrys opened his eyes. Those emerald irises gave him away.
Trystan’s eyes watered. He clenched his jaw, his chest aching and tight. “I don’t understand.”
“I have a lot to explain, Trystan.” A soft blue glow surrounded Emrys and his appearance shifted again. His lean build and brown hair returned.
“This isn’t real, is it?” Trystan’s heartbeat hastened. “This has to be a dream.”
“This is very real.”
“You…” Trystan’s mouth hung open a little as he searched for the right word. “…changed your appearance right before my eyes. How?”
“Magic.”
Trystan straightened, drawing his brows together. He’d always hoped, but now the reality of it seemed harder to accept than he’d imagined. “Magic.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I—” Trystan paused mid-thought as forgotten memories surfaced in his mind. Moments in which he remembered the flicker of a faint, blue light but had dismissed it as his eyes playing tricks on him. “All those subtle flashes of blue light… that was you.”
“Yes.”
