The Faerie Blade

Chapter 18

"Shh...hush now, dear child, and sleep," a female dressed in blood red robes crooned as she rocked a baby boy in her arms. "Gwenwyfar, your son is adorable."

"Please, do not hurt him," Gwenwyfar, wearing a torn and dirty pale blue dress, begged as she clutched the iron bars of the cell, her skin sizzling as it came into contact with the poisonous metal. Despite the obvious pain she should be feeling, she ignored it. "I will do anything. Just do not hurt my son."

The smell of burnt flesh filled the room. "There is no need to be so dramatic, Gwenwyfar," the female hummed. "Do be a dear and stop harming yourself. You know what I want."

"I cannot give you that," the disgustingly noble daughter of King Leodegrance said. "I cannot willingly give you the power you need to destroy Arthur."

"What happened to 'anything'? Such a pity, that this precious little one shall suffer iron poisoning at such an age."

"No, no! Please!"

"Your life for his, Gwen." The intimate purr of the shortened name took on a menacing edge. "Give your name to me, and I will spare your son. Your end will be quick. If not, you will slowly watch your son suffer the worst kinds of poison known to Fae. I will heal his iron and ash poisoning over and over as you bear witness to the torment I will inflict on him. Can your gift of numbing all sensations of physical pain do the same for emotional pain?"

"Please."

"Give me your name!" The female slammed a leather gloved hand into the iron bars. "My patience wears thin."

The baby boy in her arms started wailing.

Gwenwyfar licked her lips, staring at her son. "Very well. But Arthur will still defeat you."

"The dedication to the male who cast you out after begetting a son upon you is annoying as it is distasteful. Your name, now, or I will press your son's face into these bars."

She swallowed. "I, Gwenwyfar Pensylphite, give you my name and all it entails: my life and my power. There. It is done. Please, I beg you, harm not my son."

"Now that you have done what I have wanted you to, I will not harm him. He factors into my plans, this son of Arthur. But you, you I no longer have a need for."

Before Gwenwyfar could protest, the female grabbed her golden locks of hair and slammed her face against the metal bars. Soon, all that was left was a corpse, whose facial features were so charred and blackened that one could no longer tell to whom it belonged.

The female in the red robes went back to rocking the baby male until he quietened once more. "Yes, you are indeed adorable," she decided, smirking down at the boy. "I think I will name you Mordred, for I will control your father's kingdom one day, and you will help me do it. We have unfinished business, my brother and I."