Upon my first visit to Camelot, I was appalled to hear the stories that had begun to circulate about my father, Prince Mordred Pendragon. In the sixteen years since Father left Britain, the people had changed him from a hero, into a villain. At that moment, I knew that I had to write his story, his true story. This is the first of three chronicles concerning my father's life. This one, titled The Heart of Camelot, will consist of the truth, or as much truth as I have been able to come across. The other two will be the legends that speak in favor of my father's life.

This story begins with the coronation of my Grandfather, King Arthur Pendragon, and goes up to my father's decision to leave Britain. I have gathered this information from those who were close to my father, my mother's journals and from Avalon's official records. I have taken some liberties, since this is a legend of sorts, but a majority of this tale is truth.

My hope is that some day these tales will overpower the ones that speak of my father as a traitor. He gave his heart and soul to Camelot, and deserved so much better than what he received in the end. As you read this, displace the earlier legends you have heard from your mind, and read this tale with an open heart.

- Melou Pendragon

"I see all that I should have done," Merlin said. "The Deceiver has begun. Our end is beginning to draw near."

"And yet you do nothing."

"Uther bore the mark of the Pendragon on his wrist," Merlin said softly. "It was his place to build Camelot. Arthur bears the mark on his arm, for it is his place to defend Camelot. Oh, Vivian, the Heart of Camelot has yet to come."

"And this will save us?" Vivian asked.

"Perhaps," Merlin said. "Perhaps not. Nothing is set in stone, Vivian. Nothing lasts forever."

"So you will let this Deceiver continue its work?"

"Yes, because that is the right course of action right now," Merlin replied, leaning back in his chair. "Just wait, Vivian. We will spring into action soon enough."