Either / Or

The echo of his strong voice had barely died away when he heard the whirring of wings and saw the giant creature manoeuvring down the narrow cave and landing on a big rock in front of him.

"You summoned me, young warlock." he stated but his eyes talked of suspicion and distrust. Indeed, it was a strange time and place.

Balinor shifted from one foot to another uneasily. He didn't like this, not one bit.

Behind him, just a few feet away stood a girl, hiding in the shadows with a man thousands learned to despise in a short period of time: Uther Pendragon.

It hadn't been that long ago when the young warlord had conquered their land and had dared to place the crown on his golden head. He had ruled with pride as his counsellor and fear as his law until a beautiful lady had brought warmth to the heart of stone. But the fragile stability had been short-lived, and when the queen had died giving birth to the future king all hell had broken loose.

The young king hadn't been very fond of magic before that, but then he had become driven by hatred. The new religion he had brought with him from foreign lands had demanded to replace the old one; he had baptized with fire and drowned the voices of those who had dared to raise it against him.

The magical creatures couldn't have run far enough, dragons and dragonlords had been both enemies, and Balinor's brothers had gone to the pyre one by one. Only he had been spared, because he had been still needed.

He was tempted to run, to leave all this behind. Uther had told him that he had wanted to end the war, to make peace with the last dragon before Camelot would be reduced to ruins while he stood there victorious. The king wasn't a man to be trusted though, but Balinor had no choice.

He was caught in a dreadful either/or situation; if he did what he was told, he could live to see another day. He'd probably have time to flee. He didn't have illusions: all of them would burn sooner or later. Uther's wrath would not subside until the last spark of magic would be eliminated from this world, and a new one would be built on its ashes.

The dragonlord swallowed audibly and closed his eyes. Whispered words reached his ears from behind his back and he heard the clinging of heavy chains that were circling themselves around Kilgharrah's legs as Uther stepped into the light with the girl, a sorcerer beside him. He had known this would happen, there was no need to fool himself into being surprised.

Balinor looked at her. She was so young, but her tear-stained face told a tale of the kind of misery no one should experience at that age. She had her right hand in front of her, her eyes glowed a shade of gold, but what stood out were the angry red marks on her wrist. She was far too young to have children; whatever great power she possessed, she would take it with her to an early grave. Ah, the either/or. She had probably been promised a faster, less painful death.

"I'm so sorry" he whispered and looked into the dragon's eyes of pure magic which were now wide as saucers when he realized that he couldn't break free and that cave would become his home from now on. He'd be left there to rot, probably forever forgotten.

"Don't pity me!" Kilgharrah roared. "Don't think for one moment that your fate would be easier to bear! You betrayed your own kind, what is coming for you is worse than the pyre." The dragon gave up the fight with the magic that was stronger that his and the anger in voice was gradually replaced with bitterness. "May your freedom turn into your infinite cage, may you know true love before it would be taken from you, may you have family you would be forced to leave behind, may the day I see the light of day again be the last you would see."

"You curse me?" Balinor asked sourly. He felt angry but mostly at himself, at his own cowardice. He had chosen the path that had seemed easier.

"You brought this upon yourself, young warlock! You don't need a curse when you choose to aid a Pendragon."

Gaius stepped beside Uther and put his hand on the king's arm. There wasn't much he could do; his wisdom couldn't get through those thick layers of hatred and pride.

"Think about this, please." he said in a low, respectful tone. "What about the peace you want to achieve? It pains me to see how…"

"This will bring peace! Magic is the source of our war, but the new religion will make the kingdom prosper." Uther shouted but it was clearly directed at the dragon and not at his friend, but then he turned to face Gaius. "The only thing you need to see is your own future ahead of you." he hissed.

He had never forgotten Kilgharrah's bitter words, and they had all come true. The path he had chosen had proved to be the hardest, and the worst heartbreak had arrived in the form of a young boy, barely twenty, aiding a Pendragon.

He had a family, a son, and the Great Dragon was free. His time had finally come.