A few moments later the monk returned with an apologetic face. He almost seemed scared; or at the very least, concerned. Hegestured for me to follow him through one of the doors on the right and led me up some stairs. On the way up I saw several rooms lined with books and parchment. Each of them having a monk or two working on transcribing the parchments. Some looked bored while others looked very focused. Either way, it seemed like they were busy.

Eventually we made it up several stairs to a small chamber where a very old man in similar robes sat at a desk, diligently writing on some parchment with a quill. Upon entering the chamber the old man stopped writing and turned to face me. The monk bowed his head and left us while the old man sat there with a delighted smile upon his face.

“It has been some time since we last saw each other, Sir Micheal? Yet, you haven’t aged a day.” the old man said as he stood up and opened his arms as if he expected a hug.

“I assume that you are a Knight of the Round Table then?” I asked. He looked a bit displeased by my answer.

“Ah right… I am much older than I used to be and look much different. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sir Galahad, ex-Knight of the Round Table.” he stated.

“Galahad? What happened to you?” I asked with a concerned tone. He seemed taken back by this but continued on.

“I know we only met once but my father, Lancelot spoke highly of you. He never doubted that you were innocent. Despite Mordred and Merlin’s incistance. Thus, I felt you were innocent as well. Once Mordred’s secret was found out the Round Table split in two. Some stayed with Arthur’s son and others went with Mordred. Due to our past, Lancelot and I sided with Mordred but our belief in your innocence led us to… well, become hated by her. In order to protect me, my father had me attack him in the middle of a battle under the guise that I thought he was a Saxon. He then wounded me and I was sent to be healed in a local monastery. He then paid them to say I had died. From then on I was a scribe and a monk.” Galahad explained as he sat back down at his desk.

“So that’s how you ended up here. It must have been difficult?” I said.

“Not at all. The only issue was learning to be a scribe. Though, I guess we should get down to business. What exactly did you come here for?” he asked.

“I need to know about Merlin? Anything would help me.” I asked.

Galahad gave me a wry smile before reaching across his desk and ringing a bell. The monk from before came up the stairs into the chambers and stood before Galahad. Handing the monk a small sealed letter the monk nodded and walked off in a hurry. I was very confused by this but didn’t bother to ask.

“You’re probably wondering what just happened?” Galahad asked before getting up and walking over to a shelf on the other side of the room. He picked up some papers revealing a small shelf that was poorly hidden. He pulled out a glass bottle covered in dust and two glasses.

“I am.” I replied as he walked over and began turning a corkscrew into the cork.

“Over the years I have built up an organization of special monks. They gather information from all over the known world and keep it safe. A library of Alexandria if you will for the modern age. The Vatican was against it at first but has allowed it due to the political gain that it provides. Over the years I have come across information on plenty of Elder Ones and even Merlin. For example, did you know that he is the bastard son of Helen of Troy? It’s where he originally got his abilities. After her death though, he wandered around Europe and eventually met another Elder One, Freya of the Norse gods. There isn’t much information after that other than that he met the Pendragon family and slowly used them to build up Camelot.” Galahad explained as he pulled out the wine cork and began pouring some wine for both of us.

“That is interesting. Do you perhaps know where he is right now?” I asked before taking the wine glass and putting it to my lips.

“That’s what we are about to find out. The letter I just sent was to one of my informants. Once they arrive, I’m sure that they can give us that information.” he said as he took a sip of his wine.