Aragon.
If it wasn't for all that I have suffered for this land to prosper, I would call it home. No, this place was never home a to me. I hear the running feet of my companion approach the tree line. While I wait for them to reconvene, I longingly stare at the cloudy sky. An extraordinary blanket of thin clouds spread for miles in the sky, blocking out every inch of it. But I remember what lies beyond it. "There you are!" Bo runs up to me. "We lost you there for a second." Beau follows his twin. They both look winded and surprised. I glance back at everyone else. They all look like they've run for miles. How fast did I run? I don't feel like I've used any power, but it was a bad idea to venture on my own.
"How did you know that the Ruins was in this path?" Gawain asks, suspiciously. I grasp at straws to come up with a reasonable lie, but it doesn't matter what I say. I can tell by his face that whatever I say, he won't believe me. I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly. "Those thistles are native to the three-way border," I say to him, deciding to stick to one truth, "I was intrigued by them since I've never seen the kind before. I wanted to study them and came upon the cliff." A corner of Rhydian's mouth twitches at my response. Vera accepts my explanation without question and walks over to where I'm standing. Draxum and Goosey does the same. "There's something off about this place." Vera stares at Aragon. "Our families always avoided the Ruins, but when they left, we wandered in. In the days we stayed here, strange began things happened."
Incredible interesting. Obviously, Inferno has something to show me. If only it could just tell me rather than show me. My life would be so much easier if it could. "We felt like someone was watching us." Goosey clutches Vera's arm. The fog obstructs my view of the kingdom. I won't be able to tell if there's someone or something waiting for me. "I'll go in alone." I speak, set on my decision, and hear Rhydian start to protest. "If, and only if, I don't return within the hour, then you, Rhydian, can go in after me. No one else, just you. Agreed?" Finished, I turn around and give him a hard look. His lips press into a grim line and nods once. Satisfied, my face softens as I meet Draxum's gaze. "I'll be alright," I pull him into a hug, "There's nothing down there that will cause me harm. I'm going to look around and come back, ok?" He mumbles a reluctant 'ok'.
I let him go, keeping my stance relaxed. "We'll set up camp while you," Vera nods to the Ruins, "go explore." I watch as one by one they go back to the safety of the woods. Goosey grabs Draxum's hand and leads him away. He shyly smiles at her as they walk away. It seems that my dear Draxum is smitten. Rhydian is the last to leave. I purposefully avoid his eyes and begin my trek down. Aragon isn't far from the cliffs, but it is far enough for me to remember the first time I came to Aragon. I stole away into the night, leaving Benwick House and Lancelot without a word.
A few days prior, I overheard Lance and Merlin talk about Arthur's crown and what it held. I was angry and frustrated. I was constantly training without knowing why and I couldn't stand it anymore. So that night, I hid the Cursebreakers in my room at Benwick and left. I traveled great lengths to get here and at one point intercepted a caravan that was on their way here. Mordred was yet to be crowned king and Avalon was long gone. I walked the same path I am walking on now. Before, the main road was bustling with life. People walking to and fro from excitement and purpose. I went straight to the marketplace to help the caravans sell their goods. I had hoped to stay with them, but fate was on my side. I met Ygraine that day, looking for new jewelry. We became friends pretty quickly after that. Now, it's empty. Void. The fog covers the land and buildings like a blanket choking the life out.
I swallow harshly, taking a cautious step. Nature has taken over the land. The cobble roads are overgrown and shattered by weeds. The beautiful memories of my first day here evaporate into the fog and turns into a dreadful one. As my final memory of the old kingdom filter in the shadows of the fog, I begin to hear distorted voices. The screams and cries of the people in mass hysteria overwhelms me, slamming into me. My feet take me down the Ruins on their own accord. Leading me to whatever the kingdom holds in store for me. I weave between the old shacks and shops. Overgrown grass sprout from the cobblestones and the foundations of many of the buildings are so close to crumbling. Many have already.
The long road opens the town's center, and there lies a figure. A woman in a golden cloak standing with her back to me. "Well, well," she says, "if it isn't Valencia, the village girl." I sigh in disdain at her voice.
"Hello, Arathmus," my feet slowly step into the square, "Fancy seeing you here." She takes the hood off as she turns to me. Her appearance startles me, but I'm not surprised. Half of Arathmus' face is stripped of her porcelain skin; smooth skeletal bones are there instead. Her skull in plain sight. Her eyes are the same grey as the day we met. I've seen her like this before. In a dream. "Look at that," she smirks, "The old ways are coming back to you. You certainly don't sound like the village girl." Arathmus' eyes search my face. "You've awakened. Good." I scoff and shake my head in disbelief. "You've got to be joking, Arathmus!" I stomp up to her. "Was this all a game for you? You've endangered the people I care about for a silly whim of yours?" She quietly inspects me, her face becoming unreadable. Small strands of her golden hair blow against her face. "It's not a game, Cursebreaker." Arathmus tilts her head to the side. "It is definitely not a whim of mine. If you want answers, you must simply ask, Valencia." I've forgotten the nature of her power.
I step away from her and begin to walk around in a circle. "Alright," I begin, "when we first met, you said that the Cursebreakers had a master, but they don't belong to anyone. Not truly. Why would you say tell me that if it wasn't true?" Arathmus smiles and her clasps her hands together as her eyes mist and swirls. "I did not lie," she turns her head, her white bones glistening in the light, "The holder of the blades is the master. You, as the holder of Inferno and Paxis as well as Samsara, are the master of the Cursebreakers." Of course. I misunderstood her meaning. Just as she did when she confronted Nimue. "So, it was a ruse?" She chuckles at the implication of my tone. "More like...an excuse, really." An excuse? This becoming annoyingly complicated. "But why?" I ask her, exasperated. "Why would you go through all the trouble to send me on this quest?" She narrows her eyes at me. "You asked it of me, long ago."
My mouth opens in shock. I asked her. I asked her? "I don't remember that," I whisper more to myself than to anyone else. I've never realized how much I don't remember. How much I can't remember. "Did the spell not work? Why am I gaining my memories in short bursts?" Arathmus confidently walks up to me. She halts infront of me and grazes her thumb across my forehead. "It's not Merlin's spell that affecting the return of your memories. It's the other one. That spell was defective and not meant for you." She drops her pale hand from my head. The fog has lifted a bit, letting rays of sun hit us. "Can you tell who made the spell that was used when I younger?" Arathmus shakes her head, her golden getting loose from her cloak. "The signature is faded and broken," she steps away from me, "I could not tell you who it belongs to." Gods damn it all! This is getting ridiculous. I'll deal with that later. It's not so important now.
"Alright, Arathmus," I deeply sigh and tuck any flyaway hairs from my braid, "can you show me what I've come here to see?" Arathmus flicks her wrist in the air, gold bursting all around us. It surrounds us quick. Her magic engulfs us in a glittering globe. My body is forced away from the floor, levitating a few feet off the ground. Arathmus' eyes glow the same color as she smiles at me. Suddenly, the globe collapses in on itself. Arathmus' gold dust pours onto a stone floor that my feet crashes into. The sudden appearance of the ground makes my knees give out. "Show off." I laugh through my words. As I stand up, my eyes take in the room Arathmus ported us in. "My visitors never get to see me do anything other than answer their silly questions," she blows the excess dust from her fingertips, "I might as well impress you."
Tons of crates and valuable items are lazily thrown on every single surface. Dresses, jewelry, shoes, paintings and all kinds of books are everywhere. "Where'd you take me?" I turn my body in a full circle as my eyes scan the visible items. "You already know that answer." I cross my feet and sharply turn to her. "Aren't you supposed to answer my questions?" Arathmus laughs, whimsical and surreal. "Not if you already know." Of course, there are loopholes. Otherworldlings aren't like sorcerers and natural vessels of magic. Otherworldings are contracted by those who give the curses and blessings. "And I know the answer?" She shrugs in response. Not being very helpful right now. "Your subconscious knows, but since you're not you yet..." She begins to explore the room on her own. Arathmus randomly picks up various trinkets, seemingly interested in them.
Sighing, I follow her suit and take a closer look at the knickknacks set before me. Many of them remind me of the Pendragons' treasures in their den. Ruby necklaces, emerald earrings, diamond hairpins. My hand freezes over a particular tiara, one that I've certainly seen before. "I know where I am," I state rather than question it. Arathmus hums, purposefully ignoring me. Or just letting me piece it out on my own. Either way, I'm getting increasingly more frustrated. "We're in the castle, aren't we?" I graze my thumb across blue gems tenderly. I feel her behind me, looking over my shoulder at the tiara in my hand. Heavy onslaught of guilt weighs in my chest as a memory unfolds.
* * * * *
Then
I comb Ygraine's hair absentmindedly. We're both deep into our own thoughts. Mordred's men have been sent announce the king's declaration to his people. I immediately left the parlor and changed out of my maid's clothes. Ygraine practically threw one of her riding dresses at me when I came back with the clothes I arrived Aragon with. To my surprise, I outgrew them a bit. She said, "You're not the same person you came here as, Samsara. I shall die before sending you off as anything less than my dearest brother's legacy." I didn't argue with her. I mean, how could I? She now sees me as Arthur's weapon. His sword and confidant. That's what Excalibur meant to him; she tells me. It was everything to him. It meant everything. "You look absolutely beautiful, my friend." My eyes move from my task to her eyes. "White agrees with you."
My dress is both outlandish and ordinary. It's completely white from my neck down to my ankles. If you don't look closely, it might look like any other riding dress, but Ygraine took the liberty of modifying it to her own standards. The white vest is snug but comfortable. Its collar reaches high on my neck and my sleeves barely passes my forearms. My skirt is sewn underneath the vest. "Really?" I braid a small section of her silver hair. "I always thought that red was my color. Or at least, green." She lets out a loud, pfft, rolling her eyes in the process. "That's such boring choices," she exclaims, "Too predictable." She starts to braid other pieces of hair. "White is perfect for you." I give her a small smile as a response, but I don't speak. The words get lodge in my throat. So, I just tie the ends of her braids with blue ribbons.
My hands hover over Ygraine's jewelry, trying to decide which accessory would match best. "I should think that this one would look best on me today." She picks one of her older tiaras. Blue sapphires surrounded in shiny silvers. I'm surprised at her selection. This one isn't usual to her tastes. As princess, she loved to wear her title and wasn't shamed to do it. This tiara is smaller than the others, much more reserved and daintier. Simple but beautiful. "Arthur gifted me this tiara after his coronation," Ygraine explains in nostalgia, "He said 'Now you are the princess you are meant to be'. Arthur crowned me with his own hands. He didn't even do that with Guin." I take the tiara out of her hands and gently place it on her head. The hues of blue stand out against her hair and compliment her eyes well. "Guin?" The word surprisingly runs smooth and sure. "Arthur's wife, poor soul," she answers. Something inside me aches at the mention of Arthur and his wife called Guinevere. "What became of her?"
"She died, forsaken," she swallows harshly, "A traitor."
A pang of an emotion I can't place hits deep in my heart or, more accurately, what's inside it. I open my mouth to ask her what she did, but a strange rumble shakes the ground underneath us. Ygraine hasn't yet noticed how the bottles of her perfumes subtly shake. Or the slight vibrations in the mirror. "Ygraine.." A loud bang from outside makes us jump, looking out to her window. Screams of the people outside follows shortly after. Panic and chaos both rings outside and inside the castle. "Is this your doing?" My heart thumps loud in my ears as a fearsome pump of adrenalin hits my veins. "I thought it was yours." Her wide eyes meet my own green orbs. If it's not her, then what the devil is breaking through our defenses?