The Mark of A Cursed King

18

"What is this place?" Virgil whispered hesitantly as he stumbled after Arthur into this back room.

"This... Is my shop." Virgil's eyes danced about everything in confusion and mild awe. He had never seen anything like it before. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Roman..." Virgil's eyes snapped up to the other as Arthur gestured to the room. "Magic weapons are extremely finicky things. For it to do what you want... use your power... fight for you..." Virgil tensed sensing the seriousness of it. "You have to be the one to forge it."

"I can't even make a stick figure. How am I going to make a sword?" Virgil could feel the anxiety growing in him as he walked over to the forge. He had to admit. He was intimidated by it all.

"The details and design I can assist with no problem but... The core of it and all... That must be you." Virgil's forced himself to take a deep breath trying to keep calm as Arthur walked about the room. "When you chose to wield a magic weapon you are putting your life and those you're protecting into the metaphysical hands of something that feels. It feels just as we do. The typical magic weapon you might find is a sword, knife, or whatever that can do maybe one or two things. A knife that glows... A sword that heats up... A bow that creates its own arrows. It's a set magic that cannot change." Virgil frowned as Arthur finally walked over to the forge and smiled. "What Roman made was a personal weapon that tuned into his desires and will. It allowed him to put his own magic into it to weaponize it and give it direction. It's a personal weapon linked to your very essence. No one can make that for you."

"Right. M-Makes since." Arthur chuckled as he started for these think apron like things.

"From now on you will spend your time training or working. If you not training then here is where you will be. You will have lunch made and given to you wherever you are and dinner will be made at exact 7 pm sharp. After which you may retire to your room. However... I hold no curfew. You are allowed to do as you please after dinner just remember that between this and training you will need rest." Virgil could feel his heart drop. Arthur just smirked as he passed one of the aprons over making Virgil wince over the weight of it. "It will be hell but by the time you leave here to complete your mission you will be much... much stronger."

"Good." Arthurs eyes only shined at that. "I need to be."

"And why is that?" Virgil's eyes set with a seriousness the old man had only ever seen mirrored once... in the very prince the younger was trying to protect.

"I'm going to save him." Virgil hissed out, putting the apron on, never taking his eyes off the man before him. Arthur was proud, to say the least. Not many people had that sort of resolve.

"Then let's get started."

"Ow." Virgil whimpered quietly as he collapsed back into his bed immediately after dinner. "That... just... ouch." Virgil grunted as he pushed himself on the bed right not even bothering to get under the blankets. He was beyond sore and bruised. All he did that day was tote around tools and learn how to use them. Just that alone was hell on his muscles. How the fuck does an old guy do this every fucking day? HOW DID ROMAN?!

It gets easier. Virgil sucked in a breath hearing Roman's soft voice in his mind and he smiled.

"It doesn't matter in the end. I'm doing this for a reason." Virgil sighed as he felt that familiar ghostly touch against his side as if Roman had curled himself against him. "I am going to win, Ro. I'm going to beat her." Virgil's eyes couldn't stay open even if he wanted them to. He was drained, sore, and broken. He was out before he had even finished the sentence. A lovely light grey comforter materialized above him, covering him up so he didn't get cold, and all Virgil could do was smile in his sleep.

Roman frowned as he sat himself up, just staring at his transparent form and hating every second of it. Virgil was suffering, forcing himself into this shit to save him. He didn't want this. He never wanted this. He just...

It was his fault and he knew that. He was the asshole who turned against her. He was the asshole forced her hand. Virgil didn't know. He didn't know who she was, and yet now was forced into her game. King... King deserved to be punished for what he did. Roman deserved it. He knew that but Virgil... Virgil didn't deserve this. Not one bit. Why was he forced to suffer for the mistakes he had made? It wasn't fair.

Roman pushed himself up ignoring the tears he knew were falling. He could hear Patton whispering to him from where he slept in his room. He could hear it every day. Being forced to be aware of everything around him... it was agony. He almost wished he wasn't... but then how could he protect Virgil. That's all he wanted... that's all he ever wanted... was to protect Virgil. He's all that matters to him.

Roman sighed as he leaned against the wall, glancing over at the full-length mirror Arthur had in the corner of the room. He was invisible. Not even there. He was but energy.. a force... a consciousness attached to Virgil wherever he went. He was the damsel... but to be honest he felt more like the damned. He was cursed but he had cursed another to this. And worse still no matter how much he wanted to he could not rescue them from it. He was weak. She was right... he was nothing but a pointless figurehead using others to further himself. Narcissistic egomaniac...

A con-artist in a crown.

Roman slid to the ground wracked with tears as he curled up into himself. He couldn't take it. He wanted to be different. He didn't want to be who he was back then. He thought he changed but here he was yet again... forcing another into this shit just to save his own life. If he had just let you take him right from the start... begged her to spare his love and just end him instead none of this would be happening. Virgil would be safe.

Why couldn't he ever protect the one he loves?