Mordred led Scott down the streets of Warwick until they arrived at a larger stone building. It was in the normal English stone cottage style but it was much wider than any of the other houses. Above the door was a wooden sign with the single word “PUB” written in bold letters on it. The two walked inside and sat down at one of the vacant tables.

The inside was decorated with oil lamps and different powder musket memorabilia. The wooden floors were coated in a thin layer of resin which had been worn from years of abuse. The tables were made of oak and covered in the same resin as the floor. Giving them a sleek shine that Scott found very rare for a pub. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it since it seemed more like a fancy restaurant meant for visiting nobles rather than a pub for the common working folk.

Behind the bar an older man was polishing some glasses which were brought over to them by a young girl and filled with water. Scott gave her an awkward smile as the girl was doing it which made her return with a slightly concerned look.

“Thank you, Mary.” Mordred said.

“You’re welcome, miss. Should I bring your usual for when you come alone or would you rather try something else?”

“I’ll have the usual. No need for me to hold back with this one. He doesn’t care for etiquette and manners.”

“Well then, What can I get for you, sir?” she asked Scott.

“I’ll have whatever she is having.”

“Alrighty then, two boilermakers and two plates of honey glazed pheasant with black pudding.” Mary said before she walked off to tell the old man.

“Seems a little early for you to be drinking?” Scott asked Mordred.

“Trust me, had you been anyone beside Merlin I would have had some tea.” She replied.

“Does that make us friends?”

“Not at all. You just happen to be one of the few people I know of that doesn’t care about what anyone thinks or does with their own life.”

“Harsh, but not untrue. So Is there anything you wish to speak with me about? I don’t expect that you would have brought me out here alone just to catch up.”

“Again, I Hate that you’re so perceptive and yet you never even attempt to move up in the world.”

“Are you just going to lecture me on something that will never change or will you get to the point?”

“Fine, Merlin is currently going through the books that were taken from the now deceased Rubin Ruben.” she said with an annoyed sigh.

“...and?”

“He found many books of magic that could turn the world on its head if they ever made it into the hands of someone with ill intent. We have locked away many of them and burned the ones too dangerous for even us to keep but there’s still more to go through.”

“Okay, what does this have to do with me?”

“Well, among those books were his journals. He meticulously recorded everything from day to day events to world history. Strangely much of the history is different from how we have it recorded.”

“Of course it’s different. He told us he came from another dimension of sorts and everything reset when he gave up his ability to time travel.”

“We have accepted that but there is one thing we are concerned about.”

“And what might that be?”

“The one who gave him that power. The one known as the God of Time.”