Disclaimer: Merlin tv series & Repo! Genetic Opera not owned by me - fic done purely for fun! And a BIG thank you to hermitknut for the awesome beta work! :D
2056 AD: Things You See In An Alleyway
It was in the middle of the night when the sound of gravel and trash crunching below booted feet was heard before a man could be seen running through the empty streets and into an alleyway, pursued by three men in dark uniform with the GeneCo logo strapped on their arms. The chase was halted, however, when the man running ahead skidded to a halt as soon as he realised he had taken a wrong turn.
"Ah crap," the Graverobber cursed as he stared at the brick wall in front of him. When he turned around, the butt of a gun crashed into his face and sent him sprawling onto the dirty ground.
"End of the line, asshole," one of the GeneCo police said from behind his mask while one of his partners picked up the bag that was dropped when the thief fell.
"I thought we already put you in prison last Christmas," the policeman said.
The Graverobber winced as he gingerly touched the bruise on his face. "The judge saw it fit to release me on the goodwill of Christmas."
The man snorted before his partner said with a cold voice. "The honourable judge Myron? I've heard he's a bit of a Zydrate addict."
"A Zydrate user, sir," the Graverobber said, waving his hand in a careless manner. "For all those pains… that... err... old people… get..."
The second man made a noise of disbelief, digging into the bag and pulling out two vials of bright coloured liquid that he could fit in one gloved hand.
Suddenly, the radio on the first policeman crackled, instructing the group for emergency assistance a few blocks away. The man cursed. "We can't take him with us."
"No, we can't," his partner agreed and the Graverobber would have rejoiced if he had not heard the unexpected light-heartedness in the man's voice. It was when he saw the syringe gun filled with Zydrate in the man's hand did the Graverobber understand his intent.
"We'll give him the taste of his own medicine. A dose of this and we'll just leave him here until we're free to pick him up. That is if he's not eaten by the wild rats and dogs before we get back. I hear they're pretty hungry in this part of town."
The first man cackled, restraining the Graverobber easily while his partner shot the thief with the drug. The last thing the Graverobber remembered was the fear of succumbing into addiction before he fell into unconsciousness.
483 AD: A Stranger In The City
There were fires for days in the city of Camelot. The rise of the Knights of Medhir and the emergence of the Great Dragon had brought the kingdom to it knees but bravery had prevailed and after the monsters were defeated, Camelot slowly but assuredly rose to its glory once more.
With victory, there were losses and there was one so deep that it affected the royal house of the King.
A ward... a daughter, was lost in the heat of battle and although the King kept his emotions behind a firm mask, his son often saw sorrow in the king's eyes during their meals in the quiet nights.
It all changed when a man appeared at the city, tall and scruffy with pale skin and long hair and odd clothing that consisted of fur, dull-coloured fabric and dusty leather.
The prince thought him a peasant at first, since the man was not carrying any belongings that could indicate him to be a traveller, until the man smiled, showing him a row of white perfect teeth that even a few of Camelot's richest Lords would have had a hard time maintaining.
The prince was at a loss and highly suspicious, being unable to determine the origin of the person with his drawling speech and peculiar attire. When none of the most travelled or learned citizens of Camelot were able to do any better (the closest he could get was 'the land from across the seas', and even that was vague in his opinion) he brought the matter to his father's court.
As his knights escorted the stranger across the hall, the prince could see that the man walked fluidly and silently, taking the surroundings with keen eyes. However, when those eyes alighted on his father sitting at the throne, the prince saw those white teeth again but this time in a grimace.
"Repoman," the stranger said bravely, "I did nothing wrong nor am I in your debt."
A strong gloved hand smacked the stranger harshly across the face before the guard began yelling at him for his insolence.
The king held up his hand and everyone was silent once more. "When you saw me," the king began, "you thought you knew me. Who was I supposed to be?"
The prince looks at his father for a moment, curious as to why his father would ask in person rather than order the man into the dungeons to be interrogated, before bringing his attention back to the stranger who seemed more puzzled than him.
"An-an assassin, my lord. E-Employed by GeneCo," the stranger replied hesitantly.
"Jeen-ko?" the king echoed.
"Yes, my lord. An empire ruled by Rotti Largo."
"We have not heard of that kingdom," the prince said. "Where does it lie?"
"Oh, it's far... far away from here, my lords. I can't even tell you where, seeing as I am lost..."
The king made a thoughtful sound before asking. "Do you know... of a person by the name of Shylo?"
The prince blinked, knowing he knew that name but could not remember from where.
"Shilo?" the stranger said in surprise, "Yes. She is the Repoman's daughter... You -"
"No, I am not him," the king said cutting him off. "How does she fare?"
"She is well," the man replied. "She still gets sick from time to time but she is strong and I believe that she will get better soon."
The king's eyes widened. "She is sick?"
"Yes," the man said, "Her body still needs to detox – I mean, cleanse itself from the poison her father gave her -"
"He what?" the king raged standing up. "A man poisoning his own daughter?"
The prince again turned his attention towards his father, missing the flinch coming from his manservant standing not too far away from him.
"He poisoned her out of misguided love, my lord," the man said, his deep voice managing to sound soothing even, as the prince knew, that the man was fearing for his life, "to keep her safe and close to him."
"Madness," the king uttered.
"But she still loved him," the stranger told him. "She refused a cure for her sickness and the offer of an empire when Rotti Largo called for his death. And for her love, the Repoman died for her. His death freed her."
The king gave a quiet sigh only the prince and the first knight could hear. "Put him in the cells," the king ordered, sitting back down on his throne, "Give him food and water. We will call him again tomorrow. It is getting late."
But the next time the king summoned for the stranger, the man had disappeared and no one could explain how he had escaped other than whispers of sorcery. The king began to look morose and kept more to himself, and it was on the second day after the stranger's disappearance that the prince thought it was prudent to ask.
"I have heard you call Morgana 'Shylo' a few times the first week she came to live with us. Is she the daughter that you lost during the Purge?"
The king looked at him, surprised that his son would remember. "Yes. She is. We... had an argument and she ran away. I have not seen her since."
"But the strange man said that she is well," the prince reminded him, "and that she is strong."
The king thought of his other daughter and hoped for the same. "Yes. She is that."
2056 AD: Bravi!
His head was spinning and he felt sick to his stomach but when he managed to will himself to crack open an eyelid, he had to shut it again quickly to cut off the sudden glare of the light burning into his retina.
"Hey, you okay?"
The graverobber groaned, cautiously opening his eye again before opening the other. The face he saw was that of the Repoman's daughter, looking at him in worry.
"Yeah," he croaked out, "just peachy."
"What happened?" the girl asked, helping him to sit up. The man looked around and saw that he was lying in a familiar-looking foyer, bundled up with so many blankets and pillows that he could hardly move. "I saw you staggering out of an alley before passing out in the middle of the street. I had to take you to somewhere safe and I don't know where you live."
"And you carried me here to your house by yourself?" the graverobber said in disbelief.
"Of course not," Shilo replied, rolling her eyes. "I... asked you friends to carry you here."
"My... friends?"
"Okay, okay," she relented, "I had to pay some people with the zydrate that I found in your pockets."
"Great," the man groaned again before he suddenly gave a look of surprise, "Wait, I still had some on me?"
"Yeah," Shilo said, looking at him in curiosity, "Why? Did you get mugged or something?"
"Yeah," the graverobber said, rubbing his temples, "something like that. Shit, I haven't felt like this since I started detoxing in 2050. I can't remember anything other than getting attacked in the alley. I feel like my brain's been splayed wide open."
"Eww..." Shilo grimaced before standing up. "I'll - I'll get you some water."
"Thanks, kid," the graverobber said, before letting his body fall back down on the hard floor. At least he wouldn't be cold tonight because detoxing could be such a bitch.
-End