The Gods have gathered in the Council of Valhalla and have decided that it's humanity's time to face judgement day. However one man, King Solomon, has a plan to save them.
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Uther Pendragon, glorious King of Britain, had been betrayed on his throne. Killed by his own vassals after a fierce battle against the Saxon threat. The cathedra was left without a king, and so, the land of Drummondii fell into utter chaos. The former vassals and wealthy nobles fought savagely amongst each other for the throne, violent outbursts between whom should have been strong allies adorned the lands of Britain. As soon as one claimed the mighty title of King, they were shortly slayed by another. An endless cycle of death. All hope seemed lost to this land, but there was one who could change that, a young boy, Uther's last remaining legacy.
Deep in a forest, there was a wooden house, outside of which the young boy of prophecy resided. He sported messy blond hair, and wore the scrappy clothes of a peasant. Throughout the stifling days, he would swing a wooden sword at a tree dreaming of the future ahead of him. This young boy was the one true king, the son of Uther. Arthur Pendragon.
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"AHHHH!" Arthur went for a large swing of his wooden sword, but his feet caught at a loose rock and he tripped, hitting his head against the tree. A shallow cut was left behind as a result. "Ow...rubbish..."
The boy was a complete failure. A failure unfit to be king.
"Arthur! ARTHUR!" The boy heard yelling from inside the house and saw smoke and fire coming out from it. "GET THE BUCKET!"
Hurriedly, he got off the ground and grabbed the already full bucket of water and ran into the house, passing the bucket to the man inside, who splashed the water on a burning table extinguishing the flames. "Ahhh...That could have been a problem, right, Arthur?" The man said with a chuckle. The man had brown hair which was turning gray, a small messy beard, and dawned purple robes.
"Your spell failed again, didn't it Merlin?" Arthur asked, already knowing the answer.
"Hehehe..." The wizard rubbed the back of his head. "Well we all make mistakes sometimes." "..Except you and me— we always fail, we are failures. It's in our nature to fail." Arthur said, silencing Merlin.
And he was right, Arthur failed at everything he tried to do. He fell off his horse every time he tried to ride it; he couldn't learn anything Merlin tried to teach him or memorize anything from his books; his body was weak, he couldn't even lift a short steel sword or dagger; always finding himself tripping and falling during sword practice; he couldn't draw a bow or notch an arrow; he couldn't cook edible food or do anything else.
'What's worse is he always gives up after the first try....I can barely manage to convince him to try again...' Merlin sighed before an idea to fix this issue entered his head. "Hey kiddo, let's go for a walk, I've got something to show you that might interest you."
