Merthur - Arthur's Secret

Chapter 1 - No One Must Know

Arthur's POV

~Arthur Aged 15~

I watched silently from the crowd as the sorcerer was burned at he stake. I could hear the mans screams pierce the air as the fire slowly consumed his body. My father stood on the balcony that overlooked the courtyard. His face expressed no emotion. He simply stared at the flames as it enveloped the man.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I headed back into the castle. The mans screams continued to follow me until I made it into my chambers. I slammed the door shut.

I collapsed onto my bed, my arm draped over my forehead. I never understood why my father would execute sorcerers. Indeed there were a few that were pure evil but there were also those who weren't. The Druids being one of them. They had seemed kind, peaceful, yet my father slaughtered them all anyway. Same with the man who had just been executed. He did not deserve it. He had used magic to save his daughter. Would father not have done the same if it were me?

These questions floated about in my mind the rest of the night. I tossed and turned in bed for what seemed like ages before I finally fell asleep.

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I woke up with my body aching all over. I had fallen asleep in a rather uncomfortable position. I sat up and headed behind the wooden screen in order to examine myself in the mirror.

I looked like a mess. My hair was disheveled and my clothes were still rumpled from last night. I changed my clothes and fixed my hair before my servant came through the door.

He carried a tray in his hands that held a goblet, some bread, ham, and cheese. He set the tray down on the table before standing patiently beside the door with his hands in front of him.

"Will that be all Sire?" He asked. What a bootlicker. I'm going to fire him later.

"No that will be all."

The servant nodded before leaving my chambers. I headed over to the table. I took a bite of the sandwich, at least he made edible food. I reached my hand towards the goblet. Instead of picking it up I ended up knocking it off the table. I reached my hand out quickly, attempting to catch it before it hit the floor. I didn't hear the goblet clatter onto the ground. That should have been a good thing, except that I didn't catch the goblet.

I looked over the side of the table. There was the goblet, floating a little ways off the ground. It was frozen in midair. Its contents also seemed trapped in time.

I reached out a hand to grab the goblet but it suddenly dropped to the floor. I jumped back. More then a little startled. How did I do that?

I looked around the room and walked over to my desk. I stared at the stack of books on my table and shoved them off. They once again froze in the air. After a few moments they fell onto the floor in a massive heap. What was going on? Was I going insane?

I went over to my bed and grabbed a knife from the bedside table. This time I walked over to the mirror, adjusted the screen to allow me to see the mirror from the foot of my bed. I stood a shirt distance away, making sure I could still see myself in the mirror.

I let the knife fly through the air towards the mirror. I watched as my normally blue eyes glowed gold in the reflection. The knife stopped just before it would hit the glass.

I stared in stunned silence at the floating dagger. I used magic, but how? I never learned any incantations! How is this possible? The moment I began to panic the knife fell back onto the floor. I slowly walked over and picked it up. In a fit of frustration I threw the knife at the wall behind me. It hit. This just made things more complicated. How do I control it?

I groaned in exasperation and fell back onto my bed. No one can know about this. If my father, or anyone in Camelot for that matter, found out, I would be executed. Just like that sorcerer the day before. I sat up, holding my head in my hands. I need to learn to control it. If I don't...then I already have one foot in the grave.

I stood abruptly and yanked the blade from the wall. I am going to practise magic.