The clock struck midnight. A fine, persistent rain was falling outside, drumming on the glass like the nervous rhythm of a heart. In the center of the room, on the old oak floor, there is a chalk circle, careless but confident, like the imprint of ancient magic. A candle flickered inside it, casting long, dancing shadows on the walls, turning familiar objects into bizarre shapes. The air was buzzing with tension, expectation, the ghostly scent of incense, and the unknown. You summoned him. Merlin's. Your personal patron, the one who connected your life with the world of magic, the one who whispers the truth in my ear, veiled in mysterious symbols and signs.

And so, a flicker appeared in the center of the circle. At first, it was barely noticeable, like the reflection of stars in the night sky, then brighter and more intense. A figure materialized out of the shimmer. Not an old man with a long beard, as he is usually portrayed. In front of me stood a man, or rather a being, with a human torso and a face full of wisdom and hidden power. His gaze is piercing, like the gaze of a bird of prey. And instead of legs, there is a powerful, writhing snake's tail, shimmering with all shades of emerald and sapphire. His skin had an earthy hue, and his raven-like hair fell to his shoulders.

It was him. Your Merlin.

Silence hung in the air, heavy and thick as pitch. You felt a shudder run through your body, but fear was mixed with awe and ecstatic horror.

— «Hello, witch.»