The Ghost of a Prince

Chapter 27

Everything hurt.

Emrys couldn't explain why that was the case, why he had fled the moment the sword had gone through Arthur's chest. Why he had stayed until the fight was over. He should know better than anyone than to hope things would turn out for the better.

What he was well aware of was the full weight of his failure and the pain that spread through his limbs as a reminder of such. Igraine had asked him to watch over her children. To look out for them. Under his watch, Morgana had disappeared, Morgause had gotten married to someone who she shouldn't have gotten married to and now Arthur had died. Brutally murdered by his son.

Of course, in retrospective, he should have known better than to go around making such promises. But at the time he was desperate, and it's not easy to think things through when someone else was screaming.

Healing was always an option. Unfortunately, the injury had been so straightforward and to the heart. He knew healing those kinds of wounds were near impossible to heal properly.

Everything had gone from bad to worse in less than a year. From the affair being put to light to the whole conflict that ensued as a consequence. He rose as he could from the ground Maybe if he had spoken about it sooner, maybe if he had just done something none of that would have happened.

As pained as he was, he had to return. There were things to be done, funerals to plan, things to figure out.

He had left Morgana behind. On her own. To deal with her brother and her nephew's death. There couldn't be anyone worse than him in the known world. He could die at that very moment. No one would look for him, and it would be for the better. It might even be for the better, he had always known the world would be a better place without him in it.

"Will you quiet down?" a voice spoke to him, they sounded done, like if they had already spoken to him over and over again. "I can hear you screaming all the way down"

Emrys rose his eyes. In front of him stood a woman, long dark hair and pale skin, her feet lingering above the lake. She wore a long, violet dress, different than what he had ever seen anyone wear before.

"I wasn't screaming." He stumbled on his words and his voice came out hoarse. Had he been screaming? He couldn't recall even uttering a sound.

"Whatever I was, I heard it, it was loud, painfully so." She sighed, eyes looking over him in pity. "You're not human, are you?"

Emrys was taken aback at the suddenness of the question. His eyes opened wide for a second and he passed a hand over his throat.

"Does it matter?" he grumbled; the woman sighed.

"I suppose not much, no." she shook her head. "Would you like to come inside?"

"Inside where?" he managed to say back, the lake parted, and he saw the top of a castle.

"I can't," He shook his head, wondering if he had gone inside or if he had died without noticing and this is where he would end up. He had always heard people talk about hell being down, there might be some true to their words.

He looked back in the same direction where he had flown from. "I have to go back, it's important."

"You don't look like you'd get anywhere like that." the woman shook her head. "Come inside." she invited, hand open pointing at the small tower. "You can leave as soon as you feel better, I don't tend to trap people against their will."

"I don't trust you" he spat. "I don't even know who you are."

"Nor do I trust you." she assured, a hint of severity on her tone. "But I can still feel pity for someone who seems to have been wronged."