A Twist in the Tale

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The journey to the dungeons was one of the longest moments in my life. I just couldn't seem to be getting there fast enough. I have to ask Arthur if he really was telling the truth about being born with magic. And if so, how did I not see before? There aren't a lot of people who can trick me anymore, I'm not the naive boy I once was, and if Arthur were lying, he really got me good.

Up ahead were two guards and I uncomfortably asked which cell Arthur was taken to. "The sorcerer? Cell twenty-four. It'll be on your left. I'd be careful with him though. Beat a skinny fellow like you to a pulp." I fought the furious blush from coming to my cheeks by giving them a quick bow and walking quickly in the direction they had pointed to, careful not to show my face. "Oi! They called back. "If you're wanting to see him, you're gonna need the key." I moaned slightly, but turned around, "If you will then."

And finally, almost ten minutes later, one of the guards and I stood in front of Arthur's cell. As he searched for the correct key to open the door, I got a chance to inspect it. The door was of solid wood with a small window and metal bars. I could easily see Arthur through the open space if I wanted to, but decided against it, choosing instead to wait for the guard to find the key. I resisted the urge to snap at the guard to hurry up, but just then he found it. He carefully turned the lock and opened the door and I let in an intake of breath.

"Be careful, boy. You can take as much time as you want. It's not like he's going anywhere anytime soon." He muttered. I thanked him before stepping into the cell. He closed the door behind me and I could hear the lock turn back in place.

"If you've come to gloat, you're in the wrong place." His voice was despairing, no hope in his vacant expression. He had been practically strung up in this little cell, iron manacles on his hands and ankles keeping him in place. Taking a closer look, I could see that the manacles had ancient ruins from the Old Religion decorating them, probably to suppress his magic. He looked to be about an inch off the floor and he hung limply in his chains. He wasn't wearing any shoes nor a shirt, only his breeches that had been torn at the knees. Altogether, the sight of the Once and Future King looking so defeated, made me sick.

"Thought you'd want some company." I tried to make my voice sound strong but I'm almost positive it shook on the last syllable.

When he hears me, Arthur's head snaps up and he meets my gaze eye for eye. "Thought you were someone else," he muttered.

I decide to get straight to the point and cautiously voice the question that had been consuming mc thoughts up to this point. "Arthur," I ventured. "Do you really have magic?"

He broke eye contact and looked down guiltily. "I'm sorry, Merlin. But it's true. if you never want to see me again, I understand, just please here me out-"

Arthur had lost me on its true. He has magic. Arthur Pendragon has magic. It shouldn't be possible, it can't be, but it is. I interrupted his rant determined to get more answers. "So all the rest is true. Everything you said in the throne room."

"I-Yes." He admitted. "I was born with magic. I didn't have a choice in it. I-I don't know any incantations or spells, not like the others. But I'm powerful..." He he's rotated for a second and his eyes took on a haunted look as if looking upon a horrible memory. "That much I know."

Arthur had me convinced. The passion in the way he spoke back in the hall and the resolution with which he held himself he removes all doubt that he wasn't a sorcerer. Well...warlock technically, because he was born with it.

I felt my heart flutter, excitement that I'm not alone in this filling me. I can finally tell him. Neither of us have to be alone again.

"Arthur," I whisper quietly. This is it. There is no going back. He seems to realize that this is important because his eyes widen slightly and stares at me expectantly. "What-what if I told you-what if I told you-that you're-you're not alone."

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