"It's just something else to get used to. Before I came here, you know, I didn't believe anything like this could be real. I thought I was going crazy. Or my imagination was running wild," Jon said, running his hands through his hair, the coppery curls standing in disarray. "But now I find out that they were truly my memories, that I had lived before. I think I've accepted that with remarkable aplomb, really, but now you're saying that I'm some sort of magician?"

"Not only a magician," Taliesin returned. "It is the heritage of kings, the right of power. But you wanted to eschew that for normalcy, or what little you could have of it, since royalty is rarely ever allowed the chance of liberty. But even when faced with proof of the forces arrayed against you, you elected to trust in the strength of your body rather than anything mystical, the word of your advisers. Would you consider it, embracing this power within you?"

Jon looked at his hands, staring at them like he expected to see something different about them. "What could I do?" he asked softly.
"Become more," Taliesin whispered.