Of course, things would be resolved smoothly—after all, Hogwarts was the safest place. But in the weeks since Halloween, Dyna had grown increasingly isolated, almost hermit-like. He missed the Gryffindor v. Slytherin match, the infamous broom accident, and the trio's clever deduction about Snape. He barely cared whether Hagrid had told Harry about Nicolas Flamel.
A Week Before Christmas
Professor McGonagall found Dyna in his quarters.
"Emrys," she said gently, "you'll be staying here for the Christmas holiday, right?"
Dyna shook his head.
"No, Professor. I want to go home—back to where I grew up. I want to restore the house during the break."
McGonagall frowned with concern.
"It's not safe for you to be alone."
Dyna looked up, his eyes soft with melancholy.
"Professor, I don't want to be a child without a home. That house holds my memories of my mother."
Instantly softened, McGonagall reached into her robes and produced a small pouch.
"Here—ten Galleons. Don't skimp on food. If you need more, send me an owl."
Dyna, moved, accepted them with red-rimmed eyes.
"Thank you, truly, Professor."
Though he didn't actually need money, he felt her care deeply—it wasn't an act.
Christmas Eve
After dinner, Dyna lay on his bed, quietly planning his holiday mission. Suddenly, there was a knock.
"Who is it?"
"It's Harry."
Harry, then Ron, and Hermione stepped through the door—Harry's first visit since school began. Dyna raised an eyebrow.
"You don't have many visitors."
Harry smiled with an urgent glint in his eye.
"We came because we have a question Hermione says only you can answer."
Ron shuffled, avoiding eye contact and picking at the floorboards. Hermione simply asked, "Do you know who Nicolas Flamel is?"
Dyna nodded calmly.
"Of course."
Harry brightened; Hermione looked unsurprised; Ron stared in wonder. Dyna closed his book—the title: What to Pay Attention to When Hybridizing Magical Plants.
"You want to know?"
"No, actually," Dyna replied with a grin. "But since you asked—yes, I know."
He explained, "Nicolas Flamel was a renowned alchemist. He created the Philosopher's Stone, said to grant immortality and turn base metal into gold. Flamel has lived for over six hundred years—many attribute it to the Stone."
Harry whispered, "Immortality…" Hermione followed, "…and gold!" Ron's jaw dropped. Smiling, Dyna waved goodbye and returned to his reading, wishing them a merry Christmas.
Christmas Holiday Plans
Dyna had four self-imposed tasks to complete during the two-week break:
Translate Merlin's Notebook – Strengthening his powers was top priority; danger lay ahead.
Locate Hawking Rickets – To learn about a mysterious Ministry official from years ago.
Find John Flint – Revenge wasn't essential yet, but confronting him was.
Investigate the Avery household – Risky, but potentially revealing.
At King's Cross
Watching Hermione reunite with her parents, Dyna lingered on the platform. She glanced back but didn't spot him. He sighed—and as if on cue, a pigeon took flight overhead, winging westward toward Wales. This day had been his goal for so long: to begin interpreting Merlin's notebook.
In Rural Wales
Josh Foster lived alone on the outskirts of the old Foster farm in the Vale of Glamorgan. After a troublesome gambling habit had cost him his family land, he now worked as a forest caretaker for the farm's owner. The house was gloomy—no Christmas cheer, just the stench of decay and a lingering hangover smell.
A knock at the door roused him.
"Who is it?"
Two knocks, then, "From the Barry Inheritance Office—are you Mr. Josh Foster? You have an inheritance to receive."
Josh's eyes snapped open—this could be his chance! He stumbled—knockethis opened the door, coat askew.
"Mr. Foster? I'm Dirk Dentis, here about your inheritance."
Josh blinked. "Inheritance? I never knew…"
Dentis smiled politely.
"This dates back to the Middle Ages. Your ancestors served as knights for the royal family. Your branch moved here, but another branch has left something behind."
Josh led the way inside—then realized how filthy the place was. Dentis didn't seem bothered. He placed a small gold knight-on-horseback figurine next to a dry beef bone on the table. Josh cracked a grin.
"The last of the other branch, Matilda Foster, died in London last week—and left this statue to you."
"Wonderful—" Josh began, then faltered, "I'm sorry, it's sad to hear she passed…"
Dentis ignored the remark. "We need to confirm your lineage. Here's a notebook. Only Foster descendants can read it fully. It's a counterfeit—under a replication charm. Once the magic fades, it disappears." He handed Josh the notebook. "Please begin."
Josh took it, determined. But the writing was archaic Welsh—extremely different from modern usage. Dyna watched from the shadows as Foster struggled.
Revealing the Notebook
Dyna stepped forward, emerging from concealment as Josh sat reading aloud:
"'Cambion blood… wait, this means bloodline… Cambion bloodline development record… Druids hold Cambions in esteem, for their affinity with nature…'"
Josh muttered, stumbling over phrases. Dyna, silent, listened. The notebook described Merlin not as a human wizard, but a Cambion—half-human, half-demon. His own bloodline, Dyna thought, must tie directly into this ancestry. Could he awaken the legendary powers? Today, he tried—predicting where John Flint was—but couldn't access future sight yet. Still, living within a magic-rich place would hasten that awakening.
The notebook contained three of Merlin's spells:
The Art of Destiny – Alters fate itself, either for oneself or others. Insane power—but catastrophic cost: over 90% of one's magic, plus blood essence. The caster becomes weakened for up to two years.
The Possession Art – Allows possession of animals and creatures. Combined with Cambion shapeshifting, its potential is extraordinary—but it requires deep familiarity with the hosts.
The Spandim Gate – A portal spanning distance. Exactly what Dyna needed—he'd been dreaming of flight-transforming into a bird just to travel.
He absorbed every sentence.
Dyna's Reflection
He realized Merlin's blood might already be within him—fully activated. Maybe he was just one catalyst away from unlocking the Cambion potential. Soon, he hoped, he'd achieve:
Stage One: shapeshift into animals or objects—a dragon or an owl, for example—plus stronger spells.
Stage Two: empathic communication with every being—a trait attributed to Merlin by druids, earning him the title "Immortal."
Stage Three: precognitive ability—terrifying—and the hardest to reach.
Dyna approached Josh and Dentis, gently retrieving the notebook.
"Let me see," he said. Josh pushed it forward, eager—and yet confused. Dyna studied the script, light glimmering.
After a moment, he asked, "Do you know what Cambion means?" Josh shook his head. "Cambion is mythological—half-demon, half-human. Merlin was one. This book describes how to unlock Cambion powers." Dyna explained each stage and both Merlin's spells with quiet excitement.
Josh's face turned pale. "Spandim Gate… a portal spell. You can move instantly?"
Dyna nodded. "Yes. But these are Merlin's creations. I have to be careful—too much power can break a person's body."
Dentis frowned. "Is this safe?" He eyed Dyna. "And what does this have to do with the inheritance?"
Dyna closed the notebook. "It proves lineage—but more than that—it's power. Your ancestor Matilda's heir would be capable of unlocking it. That's why it was passed down."
Josh whispered, "So… I won't be able to read it. I don't get the inheritance."
Dyna sighed. "I inherited by blood. But I won't leave you with nothing." He turned to Dentis. "There's plenty of land and remaining goods tied to the inheritance—not just a portal spell." Dentis nodded, satisfied.
Dyna's Decision
Later, as he left the cottage, Dyna felt both burdened and hopeful. Merlin's blood surged in his veins. The Spandim Gate—the key to travelling quickly, avoiding detection, hiding from enemies like John Flint—lay within reach. But each step would cost him power, potentially life.
It was worth it. He had four commitments this holiday—to translate, to investigate, to avenge, and to uncover. Merlin's notebook gave him tools, but the road was dangerous.
He set off into the Welsh countryside, heading toward a secluded ironwood glen—deep with ancient ley-line magic. There he would perform the gates and begin Stage One.
Snow fell lightly across the forest floor as dusk drew near. Dyna took a breath, heart pounding. He whispered:
"Merlin's legacy begins now."
For more chapters
patreon.com/Liamlivingstone