Albion Is Lost
When the darkness finally consumes you and there is no other way, that's when you find Fate standing there, staring you straight in the eye, smiling.
The air is cold, but I feel no chill. I have walked far, but I am not sore. I have not slept, but I am not tired. I have not eaten, but I am not hungry. There is nothing left of me and I know it. I am not yet dead, but I have no life left within me. I wear my destiny around my neck; a black cloak that hides the truth, or a choke ring that slowly kills me.
They march towards us, my men and I, led by the one I would call, "Friend," he who calls me, "Bane." Arthurs face is calm and cool, his eyes and mine are locked. I can find no hatred, only regret. I know those who follow behind him, they were once my friends, but now I don't know the meaning of that word. The one who Arthur trusts the most is not there, there is no one to truly stand beside him. For all it is worth, he stands alone.
I hear swords begin to clash and I know the war has begun. I view it through clear unwavering eyes, walking calmly through the battle, a trail of bodies behind me. I do not know which men I have killed. Mine or his? My eyes are still staring into his, though he has long since abandoned my gaze. The sword that was pulled from its stone scabbard hangs loosely at his side. The words float through my mind as I look at the engravings on the blade, Take Me Up, Cast Me Away. My eyes fall down to my own sword, Clarent, the twin sword of Excalibur. The two swords were made for one another, both forged in dragons breath. I tighten my grip on the hilt.
Arthur is now only a few feet away from me. He kneels over one of his fallen men. I lift my sword as he turns to face me, bringing it down half heartedly, only to have it met by its twin. He merely stares at me with sad eyes. I can't take it. I drive Clarent through his abdomen. He looks almost peaceful, no hint of the hatred or betrayal that will ease my guilt. He falls to his knees, his eyes locked with mine.
"You gave me no choice," I lie.
And his features change. He lunges at me and I feel Excalibur piercing through my armour, digging into my flesh. He takes Excalibur from my body. I smile at him, feeling no pain. There is regret in his eyes as I collapse to the ground. I hear him walk a few steps before, he too, collapses.
I do not know how long we were lying there before he came, the one I call Emrys. I am barely conscious as I see him approach. His sight brushes me but he has no pity for the boy who killed his king. He walks past me, kneeling by his other half. He carefully gathers the great king into his arms, tears beginning to fill his pale eyes. Once again he ignores me.
I assume I could call out, beg the mercy of the great Emrys, cry of my pain and agony… But I wish neither Emrys nor his king any more grief than I have already caused them. That is why I lay still, my heart still beating, as I stare upon what I have caused; the fall of a great kingdom and a great king, the loss of Albion. My eyes close.
I feel Karas hands cradle my face, her warm breath in my hair as she kisses my forehead and whispers, "Sleep, Mordred."