The Second (The Immortal Prophecies: Book I)

XXIII. Guenevere

Biting the hand that feeds you doesn't count in this prospect. He kidnapped you, for Christ's sake, I thought as leather touched my tongue, and I forced all I had into my captor's hand. He yelped and swung his hand outward, giving me a bit of freedom. Taking advantage, I grabbed the arm around me and twisted it, kicking his shin to buy some time for me to find a weapon of some sort. But the only thing in a distance's sight was the sword on his waist.

"Bugger," I muttered, lifting my skirt to catch him. Gripping the hilt, he saw my cause and moved to evade it, pushing us into another room, freeing the sword to me and revealing himself from the robes all over his face. It clattered next to me, as well as the man and his long dark locks. I groaned from the impact of the hit, but reached again for the weapon, crawling away to further the distance between us, and got up. I swung it towards him, where he was still on the ground, looking at me with the most peculiar eyes. Not wanting to use it, the end facing him lowered as my grip tightened, ready to change my mind otherwise if he made a mistake.

"Who are you and what do want with me?" My erratic breathing sounded in the room as I waited for an answer. It was getting a bit irritating to be the more 'normal' person in the Pillars--and apparently, my family--to rely on brute strength, seeing as this man also had magic hidden inside him to snatch me away. For a moment, I linked him to the male voice from before, but hearing, and seeing, him shocked all but confirmed he wasn't--the other claimed he knew me by the sound of it.

"You don't believe them, do you?" He asked instead. Caught out of attention, he conjured a chair before him and let his swirls of black coming from his hands to pull him up, forcing me to lift the sword. Watching me with the eyes of sun brushed hills, his lips twitched upward to stretched a smile on his face--one filled with mischief. "And I know you have no clue on how to use my sword. So being the eldest, and that being my sword, it's only right that the younger sibling have respect. May I have it back, little sister?" Of all bloody things...

The coincidental charades were beginning to irk, too. "I suppose you knew of my arrival as well...Mordred?"

"Actually, Guenevere, my presence was only made to make terms with my mother, seeing as she couldn't do them in the twenty-four years of isolation we had from each other. But apon invading, I saw Father and Guinevere together, running like mad men, where of course, I followed their odd behavior towards you. Last time I laid eyes on you, you were a wee lamb--time has been good to you." He almost sounded proud.

"So what you wanted was a reunion?"

"That would be nice to have, but no. I just needed the chance to speak with you, come, sit. And give me my sword, for goodness sake, I'm not going to hurt you. You're worse than the villagers." To be fair, he wasn't exactly the protagonist in the legends, it was better to be prepared than a fool. "Well, I'll sit in any case, keep the damn weapon if you need to," he said, once I gave him an untrusting look. Such chivalry.

"So the king and queen were telling fibs?" I asked, unsure of whether to believe his word.

"From what I took a gander at, you seem to know the answer. Do you honestly hold faith in that my mother would have that chance of inflicting such a thing on a newborn creature? I was there the day she slipped inside next to your cradle," he paused to bow his head, to let out a soft laugh. "She watched me become enchanted--in front of me was this hidden thing I found solely, grabbing me with babble coming out of her mouth. And she left, without a trace that she was there." I would've been mad that he intruded my thoughts, if not for the fact that he was a 'witness' of Morgana, fueling my doubts, and secretly, persuading me. There was still something wrong, I thought, looking at the prophecy under my cloak.