Then
Mordred has always had such an uncanny resemblance to his brother, Arthur. All three of them took after their mother. However, while Arthur was fair and tall-much like Ygraine-Mordred has dark hair and is a bit shorter than them. But the nose and mouth are so similar. Looking at him now, I realize what his siblings have that he doesn't. Kindness. All I see in his eyes is hate and anger and greed. He wants what he couldn't possibly be able to possess. Jealousy. "Do not call me that, girl," he snarls, looking at me up and down.
"Let me tell you a story, boy," I ignore him, "The story of this very crown." I hold it up and admire it closely. "Did you know that there was another, before Arthur, that held Excalibur?" Mordred doesn't react. His eyes don't leave the crown in my hand. "He was valiant, worthy of the throne. This little boy found Excalibur broken. He could've easily taken it and fixed it for himself, but he, instead, fixed Excalibur and gave it back. No strings attached. Because of this, a sorceress tested him. She took a tiny piece of Excalibur and embedded it right here," I tap the unique stone in the crown. "You had so much power on your very head and never even knew." I laugh at the irony. Any power could be given and just as easily be taken away.
"He rejected her gift, of course, and the sorcerers couldn't believe it," I continue with the story unfolding in my mind. "How could this tiny little human be so utterly good and righteous? One who didn't care for power or praises? Yes, he was special, so he was gifted something greater than mere power. He was given a blessing for his good act." I turn away from, stepping towards the throne. It matches the red and gold drapes decorated around the room. Red, bloody red. "Do you know what this does, False King?" Mordred glares at me from the steps of his throne. "It ties the power of Excalibur to its wearer. Therefore, it tied me," I sit on his throne, "to you." His eyes move between me and the crown that now rests on my lap. The gears in his head are slowly turning, most likely trying to figure out who I am or how to test this theory. "So, what will you do? Wear it?" He laughs manically, his eyes dancing with mania. "A women cannot reign a stolen kingdom. The people will revolt!" A wicked smile spreads across my face at his blatant misogyny.
"Oh please, Mordred, stop the hypocrisy." I roll my eyes, "I have bested your best knights, broke into your throne room, and brought your reign to chaos. Why would I need a crown, let alone a kingdom, to tell me how extraordinary I am? And I most certainly did not need a man to do all of this." I lean back onto the chair. If looks could kill, oh, how dead I would be. Mordred's blue eyes hold hatred and animosity towards me. "Do not call me by that name," he grits his teeth. "I am King Uther and I will not let you take Aragon!" My eyes roll on their own accord. "I'm not here to take your pathetic throne. A throne you stole first, by the way," I thrust my finger at him, "from your own brother!"
"Half-brother!" He yells back.
I snort, very much unladylike. "By all means, you can keep it, False King, but I will be taking this with me," I shake the crown in my hand. "Better yet, you can watch as I take what's mine." I get up from the throne and turn the chair. I lay it gently on the cushion, the jewel twinkling in anticipation. I slightly angle myself to the right, letting Mordred watch what I do next. I grip the Inferno blade with both hands and lift it above my head. With as much force I could muster I bring it down, straight in the middle. "INCENDIS!" My sword engulfs in flame as I slice through Arthur's crown, sending a blast of light across the room. I force my heels down, trying to keep my balance.
"What the fuck are you?" Mordred yells in fear.
"What am I?" I repeat his question incredulously. "I am the consequences of your action, Mordred." The stone is in pieces but the metal plate behind it is still intact. I brush them away. "The karma that has long awaited you the moment you stood against Arthur. The moment you defied Fate and took it upon yourself to take what wasn't yours." The piece is shaped like a mishappen arrowhead. A thin metal arrowhead. The moment I pick it up with my fingers, my insides rejoice. I am whole. "I am Samsara Cursebreaker, your worst nightmare." I hide it inside my vest, tucked away safely next to my heart. Mordred stays eerily quiet, too quiet. Before I could turn around, the ground quakes violently as a large blast hits the castle. It tips me over, making me fall down the steps along with Mordred-who unbeknownst to me was close enough to strike.
YOU ARE READING
The Knights of Aragon
FantasyValencia of Stormhold lives in a village that is surrounded by a dormant entity that suddenly comes alive one night. In a lame attempt of bravery, she decides to fight back. This serendipitous night unravels more than what she bargained for. With a...