Sneakpeek: Arthur LionsWorth and the Call of Excalibur

PROLOGUE: 1235

"My lord you are not safe here," I said bowing my head with respect.

"Lance, what you are talking about is nonsensical! You really expect me to believe that a child is the cause for the downfall of the west?"

My heart was racing. We had no time to be arguing. The archbishop needed to alert the village to escape from the looming threat, before it got here.

I picked up my head and kneeled down as I grabbed the left hand of the archbishop and kissed it.

"Please I beg you, sire... the child is a sorcerer of the devil, and has slain hundreds. He destroyed Bordeaux in a matter of minutes with his sorcery."

My body was shaking with anxiety. It had not even been 3 days since I had seen the child rip through my home village like it was nothing. My hands were trembling in their grip of the archbishop's elderly hand.

He looked at me pitifully and said, "Do not let the devil misguide you. We are in a time of great revolution as we spread our faith to those who are lost. We have never been stronger and more in control."

"You are descending into madness. Your nonsense about this child with the powers of the devil is simply nothing but utter rubbish. Knights please guide Lance over here to our city's dungeon," the archbishop said as he turned to wave his hand at Knights by his side.

The Knights in their shining silver armour, easily overwhelmed me as they forcefully carried me out of the archbishop's church. I thrashed and resisted as they dragged me out, but it was to no avail. I knew we were all going to die soon. Nothing was going to stop the wrath of the child.

After dragging me through the streets of Langon, the knights threw me in a dirty cell in the village's underground dungeon on top of the hard cobblestone floor. The cell was gray and cracked in multitudes of areas, smelling of rat and vermin. A gate lowered from the crevice of the cell's roof by the knights as they turned a wheel of chains clockwise. The gate closed with a heavy thud, and dust erupted from the ground where the spikes met the holes. The knights marched off as they went to check on the cells of the other prisoners that they kept here, leaving me to a state of complete and utter abasement.

Almost immediately, tears came to my eyes as I recalled the horror of what had happened days ago. That day started like any other, with me serving the morning and afternoon patrol duty. As I walked the perimeter of the city, I remember the screams. The screams. They were so loud, so fierce as they erupted from the heart of the village. The other patrol officers and I had dropped positions as we went to investigate the source of the sound.

As we ran along the village's stone walkways, and got closer to the scene of horror, more screams filled the village as smoke had risen into the air and fire was set to the buildings. People ran for their lives as their faces had said it all. Hell had reached the village of Bordeaux, and we were never escaping it.

And then I saw him. In the center of all the chaos and fire stood a slender child that couldn't be older than the age of 10, with black hair and even darker eyes. He was surrounded in a blood red aura, as his hands danced around with various projectiles and streams of color that erupted from his movement. Buildings were exploding with fire, people were turning into dust all around him, and knights were being slain left and right as they challenged the child with their swords but were brutally slain by his magic.

The patrol to my left, Louis, unsheathed his sword and charged the child from behind as he was occupied with the knights in front of him. He had not even moved 5 meters before the child turned around and lifted him up into the air with a swift movement of his hand. Louis screamed as his face was in unbearable pain, but the child was not looking at him. He was looking at me.