Her hands were soft and cold, touching his hands carefully and reluctantly. Her voice was silent and cautious and he did not remember what she just said. Perhaps it was something about the weather outside again, something she has been telling him almost every day and which he did not quite understand. He was here. Here in his world, a blurry, grey surrounding, filled with dust and fog.
The pattern of the window... He rembered that it used to be golden and orange when the sunbeams hit the small pieces of glass. He knew what orange looked like and he knew what the air outside smelled like but it was only a memory. He could not feel it anymore. When he tried to remember how it felt to see a colour, something that was so normal, he only remembered that he felt the joy of watching the coloured sunlight playing around the window. He remembered but he did not feel it.
Every smell and every sound had lost their fascination, and when he tried to feel it once again, it was like trying to go through a grey wall without a door, knowing what was behind it but being unable to reach the other side.
Why was everything around him coloured like ashes? It was not right, he knew exactly that his clothes, his bed, the table and everything he saw in his chambers had colours. It was all grey now, dark, foggy. Like a battle field in winter when the fires had burnt down what was grassland before and when even the blood of the dead soldiers mingled with the mud and turned to grey and black.
Guinevere smelled like roses and apple. She has always smelled like this and he noticed it very well. But he could not feel anything about it anymore.
It did not arouse any memory and he did not enjoy it, nor was it unpleasant. He did not care. He knew her name. He would never forget it although he has never called her by her name. She was here to serve him but he did not know why. She hated him and how could she not?
But he did not care that she saw him like this, weak and petrified. All his rare movements felt like moving under water, heavy but light at the same time, slow and ponderous, but he forgot about every movement immediately as if he had just dreamt of it in a dream when he tried to run but could only walk. All was grey.
He heard the word "Sire". What could she possibly want from him and why did he even care? Suddenly he found himself holding a goblet in his hand. He did not look at it but only felt it in his hands, a cold iron and smooth goblet, and then her cold hands covering his fingers and lifting his arm.
He remembered when his father once did the same and lifted his arm that way when he refused to kill the piglet. The tall man right next to him looked down on him, staring, with grey eyes, and demanding him to prove his sword skills by hitting the piglet that was even smaller than himself and screaming in fear. He could barely hold the sword that was almost his size. Lifting the heavy steal was like lifting a horse but his father helped him, telling him over and over again to finally kill the small animal, telling him that his duties required him to do things he did not want to do and that compassion could cost him his life.
The piglet turned around in circles in the corner and he could not bare to hit it with the sword. His fingers relaxed, leaving the sword that fell down while his father still held his arm up in his strong grip. When he finally let go of his arm, the grey eyes of his father looked at him in disappointment before he left without saying a word.
His small hands grabbed the sword and he approached the piglet, lifting the sword with the strength of his whole small body of a child but he still could not do it.
The sword was about to fall down again when he gave up and decided that the small animal should live, but two strong hands suddenly grabbed his arms and struck down the piglet with just one cut. It was suddenly silent now and when he looked up, he saw the blue eyes of a servant, the scarred face and brown hair.
It was a cold glance that the servant gave him and the words still echoed in his mind.
"Compassion can kill you. Mercy does not feed you. And what looks innocent does not necessarily have to be innocent. Remember that when you have your own House or kingdom one day and when you teach you own children."
The servant let go of his arms and left. Staring at the piglet lying in its own blood, he dropped the sword once again. The blood and the dead body of the animal turned blurred when tears filled his eyes. He had played with the piglet before and had held it in his arms. The sound of the falling sword made him run.

"Sire?"
He found himself standing in front of his chair. Guinevere kneeled on the floor, picking up the goblet. The water reached his feet and he stared at the mess.
He watched the maid cleaning the floor, washing away the piglet's blood that stood no chance.
"Why did you do that?" he suddenly yelled at the maid servant. "Why did you DO that?"
Guinevere's brown eyes looked at him in surprise and his memories faded. He was standing in his chambers and it was not blood but only water. The maid stood up and softly put her hands on his shoulder. She gently pushed him into the chair. "I will get you a new one, Sire."
He swallowed. Why had he not cleaned the corner from the piglet's blood? He could have buried the body but he ran away and hid in his bed chamber.
Who had cleaned the corner of the stable?
Guinevere... The maid servant of Morgana. "You can't even begin to know how much I hate you."
He held his breath and his chest convulsed. He felt dizzy. His chest felt like bursting.

He remembered that. When he held Ygraine in his arms, seeing her taking her final breath and her eyes staring at the ceiling. He did not breathe, he could not. His body felt as if it was crushed under a heavy weight, as if his heart had stopped beating and got as heavy as a stone. The first breath he took again was a sob. He did not not know how long it had taken him to breathe again. He did not hear his own sobbing and crying but he knew that he did when his tears fell down on her face. He held her close to him, firm and tight, trying to bring her back to life just by his own body strength, trying to warm her body. She could not be gone, she could not. He held her so close, there was no way for her to escape into nothing. She could not because he was here and he held her body and captured her soul within it. He kept her warm.
A hand touched his shoulder. It was Gaius. Yes, Gaius was a physician, he could help Ygraine, of course. A physican's purpose was to save people's lives.
With Giaus and himself being here for Ygraine, she could not die and could not leave him. Impossible.
"Sire"...
His tears... Ygraine's face... He suddenly realised that he had to dry her beautiful face. How rude of him to wet her face. He gently lifted his hand up to her cheeks... her eyes... wide open. Staring at the ceiling. He felt so sick, he could not breathe. This was not real, she was...
"I am so sorry, Sire... The Queen is dead". Gaius's soft voice felt like a stab in his stomach. He felt so sick, he hurt all over. She was so innocent, how could she be dead? All this blood, was it really hers?
Gaius' hands gently grabbed Uther's shoulders and Ygraine's body slowly sank back into the pillows. Uther stood up when Gaius gently led him away from the bed.
His legs were shaking and Gaius held him when his knees felt like butter. He felt so sick. His whole body was shaking and he sweat and was cold at the same time.
Giaus led him to the door, holding his arm, and Uther tumbled towards the hallways like he was walking in a dream, in a nightmare. The dizziness worsened and he vomitted.
All went black and dark. He felt arms lifting him up and he had no idea who it was and what was happening.
The pillow was soft and the air smelled of smoke. He was so tired. A hand touched his forehead. "He is in shock."
When he opened his eyes, he saw Gaius standing above him, talking to the manservant. "I will stay with him."
Uther tried to lift his body up, he had to go to Ygraine to help her. It was cold and he needed to keep her warm... He thought that he was already on his way to her chambers but then realised that he was still lying in his bed, unable to lift his arm. He was so tired, he felt so sick... Where was the baby?

Gwen looked at the king who was staring at nothing, calm and motionless. If it had not been for his chest moving up and down, Gwen would have thought that he was dead. And if it had not been for the tears running down his face, Gwen would have thought that there was nothing going on in the king's mind.
She was tempted to dry his face but thought it was inappropriate. Instead she touched his hand, instinctively. It was warm, as usual. He has always had warm hands in the past past month after the incident with Morgana, even when it was freezing cold, and Gwen often thought that he had a fever. But Gaius reassured her that he did not suffer from fever.
It was cold indeed. Gwen shivered and took a blanket from the cupboard. When she put it around the king's shoulders, he did not move or blink. His short, grey hair was touseled and his eyes were red. The maid servant did not know what to feel for Uther. She felt sorry for him but she also reminded herself that he was the man who had ordererd to execute her father. When her father was killed killed, she had felt no hate but only grief and despair. She knew that Uther was convinced of her father's guilt and that the law was strict and clear about it. Gwen also knew that her father had not meant to harm anyone and that he did not deserve to die.
How could the king be so hard, so cold and mercyless? How could Arthur have a father who was so cold? Yet she knew that he was not cold and heartless, she has always known that he loved Arthur and Morgana, and there were even a lot of people who thought of him as a good king.
She only could not understand why he did not see what others felt for his victims, why he did not see that he was not the only one who loved his family but that there were others who held their loved ones dear, too. Was he even capable of understanding this?
Gwen wondered if Uther has ever felt compassion for anyone.
She did not hate him. She pitied him. And she used to fear him. But not anymore, he was not in a position to threaten anyone, at least not for the moment. She had seen him in his weakest state, taking care of him in almost every possible way since Arthur asked her to look after him. There were still some things he could do on his own but still he did not seem to care anymore if a serving girl saw him naked when helping him to dress on rare occasions. Something which she tried to avoid. She did not feel embarassed and surely, neither did him, but she did not want to see the helpless man in him he has become, a normal person as weak and vulnerable as anyone else. She fought the feeling of compassion because it was easier to simply feel nothing for him, to regard him as a subject of her duty she has agreed to when Arthur asked her to take care of his father.
It became more difficult with each passing day. Gwen caught herself thinking about what Uther would be like if he was not king of Camelot. What would he be like if he was a commoner or simply a citizen of noble blood? Maybe even her neighbour?
She shook her head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. Uther was responsible for her father's death, even though he had to execute the law and even though the law protected Camelot from sorcery. Feeling nothing for him was easier.
Gwen reached out for the plate with fruits that Uther had not touched and saw the king's hand twitching, like the hand of a person does sometimes when they fall asleep. He had stopped crying and his eyes, red and swollen, were sunk and looked tired. Gwen frowned. It became more difficult with each passing day.

"Gwen." The maid servant turned around and saw Gaius entering. The old physician took a quick look at the king while approaching Gwen. His blue eyes that usually spoke of concern and compassion looked at her softly. "I can stay with the king for a while. You need to rest, the past days must have been exhausting for you."
The corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile. "I have to give him his medicine anyway."
Gwen nodded. "Thank you." Her eyes wandered over to Uther.
"He has been crying the whole time."
The old physician just blinked knowingly and Gwen took the plate. "Good night, Gaius."
While Gwen left the chambers, Gaius walked over to Uther and observed him for a while. The king did not move but only gazed into nothingness..
The physician showed Uther a small bottle with fluid. "Sire, you have to take your medicine."
He did not expect a reaction and opened the tiny bottle.
"Sire!" Gaius' voice was now a little more determined. Uther blinked just once and emptied the bottle that Gaius took to his lips. His mouth was left open when the old physician corked the small bottle up. He put it on the table and examined Uther by touching his throat and forehead. Physically, he seemed to be healthy, but he weakened every day. The king refused to eat enough.
"You have to eat, Uther". This was not the first time that Gaius spoke this sentence. He remembered when he tried to convince the king a long time ago, at a time when nothing was left of the strong and proud king Gaius used to know.

Uther woke up. He had the worst headache he could ever remember, and when his arm reached the left side of the bed the world came crushing down on him again.
His bed was empty, his hand touched empty sheets. It was dark outside and the smell of cold smoke filled the room.
The empty room, the dark and empty room in this terrible night. Ygraine... He stood up and walked out of the room, passing the guards that stood in front of his chambers outside in the hallways. The corridors seemed to be endlessly long and he was walking them like a sleepwalker, slowly, weak, numb. His naked feet went cold but he did not care. He saw the doors at the end of the hallway, and opened them. The room was empty. Just like his own. The bed was made, freshly and oderly, as if nothing had ever happened. He approached the bed and stared at it, blinking when his sight went blurry. This must be a nightmare. A terrible, horrific nightmare.
He slowly stepped over to a window, opened it and looked down on the courtyard, the hard stones that reflected the pale moonlight. It was high enough.
Yes, the cold, fresh air would take away his pain, the short fall would ease his burden until the ultimate darkness would free him from this misery.
Leaning forward was so easy. Just one move. Soon it will be over.
He could feel the cold wind...
A baby cried. He did not know how long he had stood at the open window, listening to the baby cries until he catched his breath and suddenly stepped back.
A baby. His son.
He turned around and walked towards the doors that would lead him to the hallways again and to the chambers next to this one, the ones in which his son's wet-nurse was living for the time being and feeding the newborn baby. Ygraine could not, they had figured it long before...when she was...still...still...
When he opened the doors of the wet-nurse's chambers, the woman was nursing the baby, and she looked up in surprise at Uther. The young king just stood there, watched the female stranger feeding his son. She suddenly stood in front of him and dropped her gaze, holding the tiny baby in front of him.
How long had he been standing and staring here? Uther took the baby that was softly chortling, his eyes closed and his tiny body swathed tightly in soft cloths.
For a second he was about to go to his chambers to show the baby to Ygraine...He gasped and felt his chest aching again.
He saw tears falling down on the baby's face. The baby fell asleep, not knowing what the one who held him felt, not knowing what happened.
Uther stared at the soft facial features and the innocence of this fragile new life. He glanced at the window in this room and then at his son again.
No. Uther knew that he had to live for him. He did not know how he was supposed to do that but he had to live.

It was late already when Merlin entered the king's chambers, looking for Gaius. How chilly this night was.
The young wizard spotted Gaius sitting on a chair, his chin down on his chest and his eyes closed. The king was asleep in his bed.
Merlin headed straight towards Giaus and did not care about being quiet. For the past weeks Uther had not reacted to anyone or anything anyway, so in case he woke he would either fall asleep again or just stare motionless, captured in his own world, as Merlin assumed. He did not care. It was Arthur he felt sorry for, not the king.
No, that was not quite true. There was some compassion for Uther, but right now he was relieved that he did not have to watch every single step he took, always fearing
that Uther would discover Merlin's powers and kill him right ahead.
"Gaius". Merlin said.
The old physician opened his eyes immediately. "I must have dozed off", he said.
The young sorcerer noticed that Gaius looked at Uther who was still asleep.
"I think I can leave him. It is late anyway." Gaius stood up.
"He will recover someday." Merlin was not convinced by his own words, yet it was the first thing that came to his mind.
Gaius frowend gently. "I'm not so sure, Merlin. I've seen him in a similar situation before but there was someone who helped him out of it."
Merlin could not imagine what similar situation this could have possibly been. He has always seen Uther as a proud and tyrannical king who was always cautious
to not show weakness to his people. The only glimpses of vulnerability he gave was when he once thought that Arthur was dying and later when he was convinced that
Arthur was dead. And then there was a moment when he cried over Morgana in front of him. When he remembered that, he thought he knew what Gaius was referring to.
"Arthur?"
The old physician nodded.
"Perhaps he can do it again", Merlin said while a part of him hoped that he would not. The young sorcerer suddenly felt ahsamed of his thoughts and swallowed.
He reminded himself of the fact that they were talking about Arthur's father and also about Gaius'... friend? Merlin was not so sure if Gaius could be considered as Uther's friend. There was a bond, however. Perhaps it was something close to a friendship, he thought. And perhaps it was simply the past they shared.
Merlin has often wondered what Gaius felt for Uther and why he sometimes even seemed to care. He too had suffered at Uther's hands, after all. Yet, there was this bond...
As if Gaius had read his young friend's mind, he said: "Perhaps it is not entirely his fault."
Merlin looked at Gaius, puzzled and surprised. "What do you mean?"
Gaius took a deep breath and looked at Uther again. "There was something... back then... when he was a baby..." He paused and pressed his lips together.
The young sorcerer suddenly had tons of questions and a dozen other thoughts on his mind, but all that came out of his mouth was: "No...Uther was never a baby."
The soft twitch in the corner of Gaius' mouth showed Merlin that he knew what his young friend was referring to. Merlin could not help but continuing his silly thoughts.
"He was born as king already, with clothes, a sword and his crown on his head."
He looked at Uther and then at Gaius. "I suppose his first word was 'sorcery'."
Now Gaius smiled and Merlin was glad that he could ease his old friend's mind for a while, realising that they talked about this all in front of the sleeping king.
The sorcerer had another reason why he actually did not want to hear about this and why he tried to make fun of it. He did not want to see this tyrant as a normal person who once even was a helpless baby, born to parents who surely loved him. It made it much more difficult to simply wait for the king's death.
Again Merlin felt ashamed. He never considered Uther as being evil. He did not even hate him. Instead he knew about the king's goodness burried deep down under hatred and desperation.
But no. He could not help but feel that a part of him wanted Uther dead. Finally gone.
"I assure you, he wasn't". Gaius still smiled.
"But..." Merlin shook his head. "I thought you met shortly before the Great Purge. How could you have known him as a ..."
Merlin raised his eyebrows and slightly distorted his mouth. "... baby?"
He tried to shake off this image and the old physician did not look at Merlin. "I helped him into this world."
Merlin stared at Gaius but did not know what to say. Suddenly, Gaius looked at him and put a hand on Merlin's shoulder, softly directing him out of the king's chambers.
"Never mind, Merlin. It is late, let's go."

The silent whistle of the wind outside Gaius' room and the soft rattle of the small window slowly turned into a weird rythm, as if someone wanted Gaius' attention by making these noises. This sound had helped Gaius to sleep the past few days, yet it became annoying now that the old physician tried to clear his mind of things he had successfully burried deep down in a corner of his mind where they were not supposed to come out again.
For days he had been wanting to ask Merlin to finally repair the window. Only the events of the past weeks distracted the old physician's mind, especially with Agravaine's arrival. Arthur's uncle had never been someone Gaius trusted.. There was something odd about this man, something that made Gaius shiver. He crawled deeper into his sheets, trying to get some sleep.
He heard Merlin sneazing in his bedroom. The young sorcerer had been very curious about Gaius' past after he had mentioned Uther's birth, but at the same time there was reluctance in Merlin's eyes, just as if he did not want to hear anything about it. And Gaius had decided to not tell Merlin about the events anyway.
Perhaps it was not the right time yet. Perhaps it never was. The young warlock has already heard a lot about prophecies and fate. He has already tried his best to change what was impossible to change and he has already dealt enough with fear.
Something told Gaius that Merlin was not eager to see the king recover, and as much as he wanted Merlin to stay being the wise and compassionate young man, his fisrt priority and biggest wish was Merlin to be save.
The old physician tried to ignore the fact that his young friend, the one who was like a son to him, slowly turned into more indifferent man who was willing to make sacrifices for the future he was destined to bring about.
At the same time he was concerned, and he deeply regretted that Merlin's enthusiastic attempts to help others was about to vanish. His compassion was not as strong as it used to be.
For a moment, Gaius was tempted to go to Merlin and tell him what has been bothering his mind for many decades already. To let him know everything about what Gaius knew, to get it off his chest and to finally have somebody at his side who knows the truth and who might be able to make a difference.
But he could not. More weight and responsibility on Merlin's shoulders... no.
How could he tell him about the curse, a curse laid on a newborn baby, Uther, the very day he had just come into this world? How could he explain to Merlin that Gaius has never talked about it with anyone, not even with Uther who had a different name back then?
No. He could not make Merlin question his own kind and he could not give Merlin another reason to try to heal the one who was a threat to Merlin's life.
But was he? The weak and helpless man - was he still a threat?
Gaius thoughts wandered back to the day when Uther's mother was in labour when the midwife could not help her due to an illness that even killed her just two days later. Gaius had been a steady guest in the palace of Uther's father, Constantinus, the mighty and powerful king of Rome. Gaius had just finished his apprenticeship as a physician. He was the youngest of all physicians in this region and he became very nervous when one evening, Constantinus grabbed his arm and almost dragged him to his wife's chambers, yelling at him to help her. Help her? How was he supposed to do this? He had never helped to deliver a baby before, especially since men were not allowed in the same room as the woman who gave birth to a child.
Constantinus pulled the heavy doors open and Gaius almost lost his balance when he was pushed into the chambers in which the screaming woman lay in the bed, about to give birth to the third child of Constantinus.
Instinctively, the young physician hurried over to the bed and tried to figure out what was wrong with either the mother or the baby. He did not think about what he was doing when he suddenly realised that the cord was about to strangle the child inside the mother's womb. His next actions happened also purely instinctively and he had no idea how long it had taken him to solve the problem. And suddenly, he held the tiny baby in his hands. Gaius could not help but laugh when the child took his first breath and started to cry.
"It's a boy!" shouted Gaius.
He gently cleaned the tiny body, almost afraid of crushing it. When he looked at the baby's mother he noticed that she fought with tears and unconsciousness.
Gaius laid the baby into his mother's arms."Your son"
She breathed heavily when embracing her newborn child, but at least she smiled. From the corner of his eyes, Gaius saw the maid servant running out of the room and it did not take long until Constantinus entered the chambers.
The tall man with the grey eyes looked down on his new son and his wife. "He is small".
Gaius looked up to Contantinus who gazed at his newborn son lying on his mother's chest. "Why is he so small?"
The young physician did not know what to say. The baby was indeed very small.
"He will grow", said the mother, softly and exhausted. "Like all our sons."
It was time to leave, Gaius thought. This was not their first child and they surely knew much better what to do than he, the young physician who had never witnessed a child delivery before.
What an astounding and wonderful experience this was. He had really held this warm new life in his own hands, he had heard the first cry echoing from the walls, greeting the air and light of this world. Amazing! It was a true wonder. Gaius smiled on his way out of the room and he closed the heavy doors silently, not wanting to scare off the newborn life lying in its mother's arms.

"Of bitter taste your bliss shall be
In love the dire pain you will see
Dooomed are those for who you shed your tears
And they shall be your doom and fears"

Gaius turned around in the hallways. "Hello?" he said. "Who is there?"
The young physician searched the dim hallways with his eyes from where he thought he had heard a voice reciting a rhyme. "Who is that?"
He saw nobody, heard no sound except his own movements when slowly walking past the doors until he reached the end of the hallways with flickering torches on the walls.
Gaius was alone, yet he had heard this voice...But It was quiet. Gaius stood still, breathing slowly, and his eyes wandered around, his mind focusing on just any noise that might occur. There was nothing but only the huge dim hallways and total silence.
"LEAVE!" shouted a voice in his ear.
Gaius gasped frozen in shock. Then he ran.
He ran down the stairs at the end of the hallways, ran around the corner, straight down the next hallways until he reached the outside. He stopped for a moment, looked around. Then he continued running until he reached his small house and slammed the door behind him, standing behind it, breathing heavily.
His heart raced.
It took him a few minutes to calm down. Gaius took a deep breath and sat down on a chair. What in the world was this? And why was he so scared?
He was a physician, a rational, logical and pragmatical man, not a fearful boy. However, the loud voice that had screamed in his ear almost scared him to death.
It had been a sharp voice that seemed to slam right into his head, so loud that he still had a ringing in his ear. The young physician stood up and hurried to the window, searching the dark streets. No-one could be seen. It was quiet and calm outside.
He needed to talk to Constantinus immediately. Yes, he needed to tell him what happened and he had to gather some things that would help him finding out what magical being... No.
He could not talk to Constantinus. The tall Roman king denied magic completely. In his mind, it did not even exist. Magic was just superstition, fairytales by old women and charlatans. What was Gaius supposed to do? He tried to remember the spell or rhyme or whatever this terrible voice cited. Doom... tears... a bitter taste...
He suddenly heard heavy footsteps, a rattling rhythm, and Gaius knew that the guards were coming down the street. A loud hammering on his door made Gaius cringe.
"Medicus! Your presence is required!"
The physician dropped his books and hastily opened the door. "Is it Regina Aurora?"
"Her son", one of the guards answered.

"...your doom and fears!" Uther opened his eyes. The last words echoed in his head, loud and scary. Where was he? The wall next to him was shining bright when sunlight hit the room. He was in his bed, curled up in a ball and burried deep into the sheets that covered half of his face. He remembered. It was dream. Was it a dream?
"Good morning, Sire". The female voice that greet him belonged to Guinevere. Yes, it was only a dream.
The maid servant put a plate onto the table which Uther only knew by hearing the sound. He did not move in his bed. The bits and parts of the dream still haunted his mind and he was afraid that they could catch him again if he moved and drew their attention. He did not want to go back there.
"Sire". The maid servant stood right in front of him but he did not look up. "Your man servant will be here soon." She slightly bent over. "For your bath."
His eyelids felt so heavy. The dim light behind them was much more pleasant than the bright sunlight in his room and Uther recalled the words that still echoed in his mind over and over again. He had kept hearing them for a long time, every day since he has been captured in his own thoughts of decay and darkness.
He has always been remembering them so very well since the first time he heard them when Arthur was only two days old. Those words that were etched in his mind forever and that had caused him years of nightmares.
This horrible shiny creature with a face of a woman that said those words the day of Ygraine's funeral, floating above the cradle in which Arthur slept.
Uther remembered when he entered his chambers in which Arthur slept that he saw this wobbling and stretching thing talking to the baby, citing the words over and over again

"Of bitter taste your bliss shall be
In love the dire pain you will see
Dooomed are those for who you shed your tears
And they shall be your doom and fears"

Forgotten was his grief for a moment and the devastating funeral of Ygraine, his weak legs that barely carried him up to the chambers, now that he drew his sword. "Get away from him!" screamed Uther in rage and he stormed toward the creature that looked like a vague picture of a woman. He swung his sword and ran through the creature like through thin air. This thing that had invaded his chambers flew over to him until it was directly in front of his face. Uther saw nothing but a greenish light as if the entire room was flooded by it. Instantly, he felt like being under water, he could not breathe and move.
"The cycle never ends!" a voice shouted in his face. The next moment it was gone. Uther blinked and gasped for air. Then he swirled around with his sword wielding in circles, hoping to hit the intruder. But it was gone.
Baby cries. Arthur. The king hurried over to the cradle and took his crying newborn son out of the cradle, carrying him gently in his arms. Arthur seemed to be unharmed but his skin was hot and sweaty. "Guards!" Uther screamed. "Guards!"
He did not wait for the guards to open the doors but ran outside, passing the puzzled men who were supposed to protect his chambers and most of all Arthur. He needed Gaius as quick as possible.
The baby did not stop crying while Uther hurried to the physician's laboratory. When he finally reached it he pushed the door open and saw Gaius looking startled at him.
"He is sick", said Uther and the physician reacted without hesitation, took Arthur out of Uther's arms and began his examination.
"What is wrong, Gaius? There was a creature in my chambers, it was floating above his cradle and talking about doom."
Instantly, Gaius looked at Uther, his eyes wide open. He stared at him while his hand rested on the crying baby's chest.
"What is it, Gaius?" The look on the physician's face made the young king shiver but Gaius blinked and focused on Arthur again.
"Nothing. I was just worried... I...perhaps it was a magical being..."
"Of course it was!" Uther shouted and his voice cracked. "What is going on, Gaius? Tell me."
"I don't know", said the physician in an unusual harsh tone. "Let me do my work here."
The king stared at his son and at Gaius. His head was spinning, he did not know what was going on and what was wrong with Arthur.
His thoughts went back to the funeral again, to Ygraine, his beloved wife. Her body being so pale, her face so calm...
Arthur...
"He has a fever", Uther heard Gaius saying. "A very high fever. I will prepare a potion."
Fever... Uther shook his head, trying to get rid of the images of Ygraine's dead body. "What does it mean? Where does it come from?"
The physician slightly shook his head and searched his shelfs nervously. Uther could have sworn that Gaius's hands were shaking when he found two tiny bottles and tried to open them.
The king started to shake too, scared by Gaius' nervous reaction which did not promise anything good. If something happened to Arthur... he could not bear it.
He ran a hand through his hair, watching Gaius mixing up fluids and giving it to Arthur who still cried. His tiny body was wrapped up in cloths and his face was wet from tears and sweat. Uther was tempted to just take the baby in his arms, but he knew that he had to let do Gaius his work.
"We need to take away the cloths, or the fever will get worse". He had just given Arthur some drops of the potion by using a small wooden stick and the baby coughed.
Gaius unwrapped Arthur and left him lying on Gaius' bed, the baby's arms and legs moving uncontrollably while crying.
"What now, Gaius, what can we do? Where does the fever come from?"
Gaius shook his head and said nothing.
"Gaius!"
"I do not know, sire. We have to wait." The physician looked at Uther. "You better get some sleep, it was a very... rough day."
Gaius lowered his head, surely recalling Igraine's funeral and the events of the past days, Uther thought. But Uther could not just sleep now that his son was ill.
He went to the doors and called some guards. "We have an intruder, search and find her. She looks like a... a shiny weird woman...Double the guards and report to me!
I will be here at the physician's laboratory!"
Uther went back to the bed in which Arthur still cried. "I will stay here with him."
Gaius nodded. "Of course, sire."
The king sat down and placed a hand on the baby's small chest. Arthur did not stop crying and Uther could not take it much longer. He gently took the baby and cradled him in his arms, kissing his forehead.
"Sire..." said Gaius, but Uther did not look at at him. He heard footsteps and knew that the physician was leaving.
Uther did not know how long it took until Arthur finally fell asleep but he was relieved when his son stopped crying and seemed to have calmed down, perhaps even seemed to feel better.
Deep inside, Uther knew that it was just wishful thinking. The baby simply slept due to exhaustion.
The words of the creature still echoed in Uther's mind.

Constantinus, king of Rome, put a hand on Gaius' shoulder and nodded. Then he left. The young physician has been staying with the baby boy, Ambrosius, for three days now and he did not know how to help him. The fever was much too high for such a small and young body and it did not arise due to natural causes. The medicine did not seem to work. Lost in his thoughts about the odd voice, he stroked the boy's head, instinctively trying to calm him down.
It was urgent to find out what curse has been laid on the third son of Constantinus and what creature it was that he heard the day of the baby boy's birth.
The young physician was relieved that Constantinus did not care at all about Giaus' books which gave him the opportunity to search them for an answer.
His magical skills were still not well developed, and Gaius considered the possibility to go to find somebody who was familiar with curses and the ability to break spells.
But what was he supposed to do? He needed to stay with Ambrosius.
"Do not interfer with powers you do not understand!"
Gaius twirled around. His eyes wide open, he spotted a shiny woman's face right behind him.
"Who are you?"
The woman did not answer.
"You are the voice that I heard, are you not?!"
"The boy is doomed. Leave!"
Gaius took Ambroisus who had started to cry again, and walked away from the creature that was floating around.
"I will not! What has the boy done to you that you dare to threaten him? Reverse the spell!" The young physician began to sweat and shiver. He had no idea with what powers he was messing around.
"You want this mortal to be saved?" Her voice was calm and nothing like the sharp scream that had caused Gaius to run in panic some days ago.
"It will come to a price, medicus."
"What price? What do you mean?"
The creature with a woman's face suddenly flew over to Gaius and stared at him as if she wanted to burn him with her black eyes.
"Every creature has its purpose. It is the boy's purpose to be doomed."
Gaius shook his head. "What does that mean? I don't understand!"
"Of course, you do not understand. It is us who understand. His father does not believe."
The young physician frowned. "And by making his son sick you expect him to believe in magic? For what purpose?"
Now the creature frowned and she showed a hideous face. "Those who do not believe will bring the downfall of the Old Religion."
"But he is just a baby, he is innocent!" Gaius held Ambrosius closer and tried to protect him with his body.
"Yes, he is innocent. And yet he is chosen to be doomed. The future is as clear as the water of the lake of Avalon."
Gaius shook his head again. "It does not make sense. The future is not set in stone."
The creature rushed over to the edge of the room and then back to Gaius until she was right in front of his face.
"Oh yes, it is! What do you know, mortal?"
The young physician cringed and swallowed. "I have no idea what you are talking about but I know that if you wanted the baby dead, you could have killed him instantly. Your curse speaks of future happenings."
The voice suddenly giggled. "Who said that the boy will die so soon? Little do you know. This fever is only the result of the spell, rushing the seeds of destruction through his blood." She lifted her chin, giving Gaius a cold glance. "The Old Religion chooses who it wants to choose. No mortal being has the right to demand freedom and a life without us."
"You cannot kill or punish those who do not believe or who do not even have a chance to believe already, like him!"
A horrible hissing sound came out of the creature's shiny mouth. "We can! Free choice of one's own future is an illusion. It is us who determin what is and what is not.
The curse can only be lifted when this mortal embraces the Old Religion and joins us."
The creature paused and then said: "The head of the dragon determins the time of choices."
The young physician shook his head and stepped back until he bumped against the door, ignoring the baby cries.
"But if you determine everything, how can anyone have a choice and how can he be left with the choice to join you? What does joining you even mean? And what do you mean by the 'head of the dragon'?"
"His choice will determine his future. His fate is sealed, his future is set. His choices will decide his way. The ending will be the same."
"Nothing you say makes sense!" shouted Gaius.
"He will be saved if he makes the right choice. His obedience and serfdom to us will decide over the way he lives his life. Only when he does as we say, we will alter his future."
With that the shiny creature disappeared and left Gaius standing with his back on the door, holding the baby that suddenly calmed down.
The young physician just stood there for a while, sweating and trying to comprehend what was going on. Then he touched the baby's face and realised that the fever was gone.

When the prince of Camelot sat down in front of his father and began his report on court matters, he heard himself talking as if he was far away.
His daily visits at Uther's chambers had become a routine and Arthur did not even have any interest in what he told his father who was sitting in his chair and not moving or reacting at all. Arthur felt devastated by his father's condition. It was not the responsibility that weighed heavily on his shoulders, now that he had taken over, at least until Uther would recover and be back in charge. It was the dead-like gaze of his father, the fact that he obviously did not even realise that his son was in the same room with him.
Yet he hoped that Uther would hear him and suddenly wake up from his deep frozen state of mind. Arthur would not give up on him. Never.
Uther used to be so strong, so determined, so proud, so unbreakable. It was merely a shadow of him that now stared into space and did not show any sign of consciousness.
How could Morgana have destroyed him so much? Knowing that she had magic, the very thing that Uther has fought for decades, certainly was a shock.
But what else did she tell him or do to him when she held him prisoner in the dungeons? Arthur remembered that his father muttered "she hates me" when Arthur brought him to his chambers after they had reconquered Camelot and taken it out of Morgana's ruthless grip.
The prince knew that his father loved Morgana but he did not know that his love was strong enough to break him comletely. Of course, Uther had fought his own daughter without being aware of it. Yet he never had a chance to prove to her that his love was genuine, something of which Arthur had no doubt about.
Did Morgana not see that her father was devastated by realising that he had fought her and that she hated him when he leaned at the wall in his cell, unable to move or speak?
Arthur assumed that Morgana's heart was so hardened that she simply did not care about what was true and what were only her fears.
Yet he knew that his father could be very ruthless at times. He also knew that Morgana was a master of provocation and challenge.
She never knew when to stop, she never shut up until she carried everything to extremes.
The prince remembered when the child Morgana came to Camelot as the daughter of deceased Gorlois. At first she was quiet and sad, and Arthur, a young boy himself, felt uncomfortable around her because he did not know what so say to a girl who had just lost her father. Or of who she thought was her father. Little did they know at that point of time.
When Uther put his arms around her and then carried her to her chambers, she began to cry. She was quiet but Arthur saw her tears. And so did Uther because he gently told her not to cry and that she was safe in Camelot. In her chambers, he sat down on the bed and held her arms in both hands, reassuring her that she had nothing to fear and that everything will be alright. Young Arthur watched it from the open door until his father left Morgana to the maid and gently directed Arthur out of the room.
"You will be kind to her", he told Arthur in the hallways while they passed the guards. "She is feeling alone and afraid."
It was only a short moment until Arthur heard the crying voice of Morgana coming out of the room. "I will not stay here! I want my father back! Get me back to my home, I want my father!"
Uther turned around with Arthur next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Morgana came running towards them and pushed Arthur so heavily that he lost his balance and fell down on the floor. Immediately, Uther's hands pulled him up on his feet again.
"Morgana..." his father began, but Morgana tried to push Uther too, with very little success. "Stop it!" Uther demanded and grabbed Morgana's arm.
The little girl cried and hit Uther's hand with her fist but she did not manage to free herself from his grip. She scratched his hand and even tried to bite him.
"Morgana, please. No-one is going to harm you. I am so sorry for your loss. Your father... he was like a brother to me." He crouched down and met her face to face. "Please, child, you cannot go home. I am sorry. You are staying with us now, we will take care of you, Arthur and I. We love you, do you understand this?"
Arthur grimaced. He did not love this shrill girl! She pushed him!
The girl's face was wet from tears and her eyes were red and swollen. "I hate you," she said.
Arthur saw a weird look on his father's face, something which he could not quite assess. Was he hurt?
Uther's hand gently dried the girls face. Then he stood up and led her to her back to her new chambers where the maid took Morgana's hand, and the girl followed her while turning around, looking at Arthur in pain and grief.
Arthur lowered his head because he did not know what to say or do. Crying girls were not something he could deal with. Uther stood at the door for a while, watching Morgana sitting on her new bed while the maid stroke her head to comfort her. The young prince saw blood on his father's hand, from the scratches that the girl caused.
Uther turned around. "You will be kind to her", he told Arthur again and then lifted him up, carrying him down the corridors.

Arthur watched his father, lost in memories of past times, seeing Uther blinking once. The sun flooded the room and brought some warmth, yet Arthur shivered.
Morgana, this once so hurt girl and then so compassionate and determined woman, was his half-sister. She was blood and she was their biggest enemy now.
What was he supposed to do? He still loved her but she also caused them all great pain. A ruthless killer, an evil witch. His sister and Uther's daughter.
The prince knew why his father had never told them about their relation. It would have caused great damage to everyone. Arthur wondered if Morgana had tried to get the throne much sooner, had she known about her parentage.
He looked at Uther who slightly turned his head to the window.
"Father?"
The king did not react. Arthur caught himself thinking that his father disapproved of him because he did not return to Camelot in time, soon enough to prevent Morgana from taking the throne. He shook his head. Nonsense, he thought. How could he have prevented it when an army of immortals stormed the city and slaughtered everyone, leaving them no chance to defend themselves? Yet Arthur was sure that his father was not very proud of him even though Uther had told him several times that he was.
The prince wondered why he could not get rid of the feeling that he was a disappointment to his father.
He had already finished his report a while ago and now prepared himself for one final attempt to get a response from Uther.
"Father..." He stood up and bent over to Uther, touching his shoulder. "What did she do to you?"
Arthur waited a few seconds, observing his father. For a moment he thought that he saw a glimpse of eye movement. But maybe he was just imagining things.
The face of the king was stony, the short hair messy and his gaze frozen.
The prince turned around and saw his manservant standing at the door.
"Arthur, the counsil is waiting."
"I know, Merlin. I'm coming."

You cannot even begin to imagine how much I hate you.
The soft wind blew and her long black hair danced in the breeze. Warm sunlight kissed her pale skin and Morgana closed her eyes while she sat in the grass outside of her dirty wooden hut. Oh, how good it had felt to tell Uther these words, how blissful it was to see the devastated look in his eyes, to see him cry and his shock when he finally realised who his daughter was and how much she hated him.
She had waited for that moment for so long and when it was finally there, she felt her blood running through her veins stronger than ever. She would never forget his face, him curled up in a corner of his cell, dirty, scared, alone and defeated.
Now that he was released from his cell and that Morgana's battle was temporarily lost, she would give her arm to see Uther like this again. This despical tyrant, this arrogant, ruthless and loathsome man.
The news of his current condition comforted Morgana and had cheered her up for weeks, made her forget about her miserable existance as a lonely woman trapped in her hut. Only Agravaine's regular visits and her thoughts about her father vegetating like a withered plant and a tormented dog distracted her from her rage about her new disgusting life.
How could she have ever pretended to love him when he enfolded her in his arms her and kissed her on the cheek? She hated everything about him. The way he moved, talked, looked. His shoulders, his eyes, his face, his clothes. She wanted to crush him with her bare hands, seeing the life oozing out of his body.
Oh how glorious it would have been if he had executed her plans she had with him. Damn Arthur! Damn little brother who freed this horrible king!
His execution would have been an execution of which people would have talked about for centuries. His screams would have been heard across the land.
Why had she not started to torture him much sooner when he was still in the dungeons, chained up on the wall? She had felt too save the moment she took the throne. This was a mistake she would not make again.
Morgana's memories wandered back to the day when he last put his arms around her, so close and tight. How could such a callous and terrible person feel so warm?
The pale sorceress wrapped her arms around herself when the breeze got colder and the sun hid behind the clouds. Why was he so warm?
Why could he not hold her in his arms one more time?...
Morgana suddenly gasped and looked in horror. Where did this thought come from? She jumped up and clenched her fists. The next moment she grabbed a billet of wood and tossed it at full tilt into the wall of her hut.
What an unforgivable thought, what a disgusting impuls! How dared she thinking of things like this?
She hated him! She hated him! This man who would have killed her instantly because of who she was, the one who killed his own wife without remorse, who never shed a tear for anyone except himself!.
Morgause had been very clear on this, there was no doubt that Uther sacrificed Ygraine for his own power. And so he would have done with Morgana.
Yes, it was all only about power and selfishness. She hated him! This liar, this tyrant!. Even his tears in the dungeon were only a lie.
The last High Priestess of the Triple Goddes took a deep breath and went back into the hut, ignoring her glimpse of a doubt when wondering why Uther was now broken after all when he did not love her. Love... He did not even know the meaning of this word. Of course, he was broken because his little secret came out and because his precious "ward" who represented Camelot so well was a sorceress and not the upright little woman who let the king shine so gloriously.
She did not allow herself to ever question her own hatred. And she did not allow herself to get distracted from her next plans. Time will be on her side when she will finally put an end to the male Pendragons, to the pityful servant Merlin, to the deceiving physician Gaius and to her cheating former maidservant Gwen. They were the ones standing in her way to the throne of Camelot.
They shall suffer like she suffered. All of them. No exception for anyone. Their misery will be her bliss, their downfall will be her glory, their failure will be her power, once and for all.

Merlin listened to the knights while he cleaned their boots. Again. Arthur had a quite weird idea of giving Merlin a good time.
Now that he served the knights by providing them with clean boots, he overheard them talking about Arthur and the king in the next room. He knew that he should not do this. But then, Merlin thought that what they said was true.
Listening to them talking about Arthur and the king and also about the probable upcoming demise of Uther, the young sorcerer felt uncomfortable but somehow secure at the same knights were talking about the beginning of a better time when Uther would finally be gone. Gwaine was the first one who mentioned that he would lay down his life for Arthur at any time, but not for Uther.
Something in the corner of Merlin's mind told him that it was not entirely Uther's fault that Gwaine once had not been accepted in Camelot. He had never told the king about his nobility.
Yet Merlin reminded himself of his own thoughts about the king. While it was tradition that only those of noble blood could become a knight, the king would not loose his face when making an exception, he thought. He then thought about Lancelot and wondered if Uther would have changed his mind, had Lancelot not interfered the argument between Uther and Arthur and decided to leave Camelot on free will.
It was not Merlin's buisness to question the traditions of Camelot or any other kingdom in regard to this and he acknowledged that the way that Uther ruled the kingdom has been quite effective for decades. Just not in regard to sorcery.
The young warlock found himself thinking that he would know much better how to run a kingdom than the king himself. The first impuls to try to heal Uther when he saw him sitting on the floor in his chambers after the incidents with Morgana was only the last bit that was left of the young sorcerer's former self, the compassionate and helpful man. Merlin preferred Uther the way he was now.
Of course, Merlin still did not think that Uther was an evil man, yet he was sure that the king had never experienced such tragedy, fear and deprivations that Merlin himself or Uther's victims have experienced. A man who was born of noble blood, always rich, always powerful, always ruthless, could not compare his personal tragedy to anyone else's tragedy.
So he brought peace to Camelot. Well, easy, he conquered Camelot and threatened every other kingdom. Merlin was convinced that it was not so difficult for powerful Uther to have others following his lead, watching everything from a safe spot while the soldiers died in the battles. Merlin was sure of that. Uther had had the necessary wealth, the skills, the army. And in everything else concerning the Old Religion, he was just plain wrong.
Was he?
Merlin shook his head while rubbing the dirt off the boots. As a sorcerer and member of the Old Religion himself he was in no position to question his own kind.
"I do not care if he dies. Honestly." Gwaine spoke the words as desultorily as if he was having a conversation about his last meal.
"Well, Arthur will be hurt if he does", Percival replied.
"But at least things will change."
"Gwaine." Merlin heard Sir Leon's warning. .
"What?" Gwaine asked. "Don't tell me that all of you are not feeling the same. Arthur would not only make a better king but also a good friend. Much better for us."
"Uther is a good king", Sir Leon replied.
Now Elyan spoke up. "And you prefer him over Arthur?"
They were quiet for a while. Then Merlin heard Gwaine's voice again.
"What is your opinion, Lancelot?"
Merlin lifted his head and harkened. For a while, Lancelot did not answer. Then he said: "I think that wishing death on someone who is helpless and the father of our friend and prince is not something that I could ever do. The king has his flaws but he is just a man after all. It is our duty to protect the kingdom and with it the king. We are benefiting from the prosperity of Camelot that Uther brought here. We shall honour it and be thankful."
"I am not wishing death on him," Gwaine responded. "I just won't be sad when he is gone, that's all."
Merlin smiled. He admired Lancelot's kindness and wisdom and had not expected him to join the opinion of the knights. Yet, even though the knights were not referring to sorcery but obviously supported the law that banned magic from the realm, Merlin himself shared Gwaine's and obviously also the other knight's feelings that did not mirror Lancelot's point of view though. The young sorcerer would not be sad either if Uther died. And even worse: he waited for it to finally happen to finally make Arthur the king he is destined to be. And Uther was standing his way.
Ashamed of his thougts but feeling relieved at the same time, Merlin rubbed the boots even harder.

When Gaius prepared himself for the counsil meeting he was still thinking about his last night's dream. His thoughts about the king and their past when he tried to get some sleep had transformed his dreams into chaotical pictures of Rome and Albion.
Now that he was back in the here and now, doing his daily work but still recalling bits and pieces of his past, he could not help but remember the young king kneeling in front of Ygraine's body that lay in state. He rocked himself back and forth, sobbing and crying. The king was not to be disturbed but Gaius came to see how Uther was when he did not come out of the throne room where he mourned Ygraine. It was late in the afternoon already and the king had been in there the whole night and half a day. The physician was concerned that Uther might have done something to himself.
Gaius assumed that Uther has been in this position the whole time because he could not stand up when Gaius gently tried to help him on his feet. It took them quite a while until Uther could walk again.
The young king looked horrible. Exhausted and ill. Gaius felt great compassion when holding the king's arm to help him keep balance.
Then, later when Arthur went sick, Gaius remembered Uther carrying his baby son for three days. The king did not sleep and barely ate.
He only allowed Gaius to touch the baby when examining him, and the wet-nurse when feeding Arthur, even though the fever had gone already.
When the physician saw Uther sitting on the bed and holding Arthur in his arms, the king's eyes closed slowly and he nodded off.
Why was the same curse that was haunting Uther, laid on Arthur? The king allowed magic and he called a High Priestess of the Old Religion his friend. He even turned to magical help when asking for an heir, Arthur. The curse should be broken now.
What was necessary to break the cycle of fate?
The physician's thoughts wandered back to the days when Regina Aurora died. Uther, who was called Ambrosius at that time, was still a child, only ten years old.
Gaius had returned to the pompouros empire from the colder land of Albion, hidden, to avoid being recognized by Contantinus and his family.
Years ago, he had left Rome in order to find an answer to his questions. He needed to know how to save Ambrosius from the curse, and before he returned to Rome he had even expected to hear the news about the boy's death. But Ambrosius was still alive and well.
Gaius had no intention to explain to Costantinus his secret departure when he was much needed as a physician in his palace, as the best medicus known in the city.
He was not allowed to leave after all. Constantinus was a strict and hard man who showed little mercy to those who disobeyed. Gaius remembered how he emotionally distanced himself from his sons, especially from his youngest one, Ambrosius. It was only once that he carried him in his arms when they all thought that Ambrosius would die only a few days after his birth. Yet Constantinus was known as being fair and just, nevertheless quick in his judgements.
People on the street were talking about poor Ambrosius who was such a funny boy with a great sense of humour, always laughing and making jokes, but calm and and withdrawn into hisself ever since his mother died. Gaius was certain that Regina Aurora had given Ambrosius all he needed, all the things that his father could not or did not want to give him.
Now that Gaius was near the palace and saw Ambrosius involved in a fight with three other children who were all taller than Ambrosius and had him fixated on the ground, kicking and beating him, he resisted the impuls to interfere. And it was not even necessary. Constantinus arrived, back from wherever he was, sitting on a horse, accompanied by some of his men. Gaius burried his face deeper into his hood.
Constantinus watched the scenario for a while and it was one of the boys who saw the king and drew his friends away from Ambrosius. When they started to run, Constantinus just raised his voice and shouted "stay!". The boys froze and it seemed that they did not dare to move. Contantinus still sat on his tall white horse that was half covered by the king's red cloak, looking down on his son who lay in the dirt and was holding his stomach in pain.
The king watched him for while. Then he demanded: "get up."
The boy did not move at first but then got back on his feet. He tumbled and fell down again.
"Stand up!" Constantinus demanded again.
It took Ambrosius a while until he found his balance and stood in front of his father's horse. Blood was running from an eyebrow and the dark-haired boy shifted his weight onto his left leg, his face contorted with pain. He was still small, Gaius thought, shorter than any other child his age.
The king observed his son, then looked at the three boys of which Gaius was sure that they belonged to families of the palace, otherwise they would not have dared fighting with the king's son.
"You are three and you attack just one. Is neither of you brave enough to face just one boy alone?"
The boys looked down at their feet, not daring to face the king.
"Who started this?" Constantinus demanded to know.
"Father, they insulted moth..."
"Silence!" Constantinus shouted at Ambrosius and the boy immediately lowered his head.
"This was a cowardly action," the king continued and approached the boys slowly while still sitting on his horse. "One of you will face my son now. The others will await their punishment by their parents.
The three boys seemed to be undecided and looked at each other, clearly intimidated and afraid. Then one of them pushed a blond boy into Ambrosius' direction.
"You," Constantinus said to his son, "you are not able to defend yourself against three boys? How many times have I taught you to handle a situation when you are outnumbered? You will now show us that you are at least in a position to stand up to just one. And I expect you to win."
Ambrosius did not look up and seemed to be embarassed. He did not face the blond boy's gaze who did not move and suddenly did not know what to do.
"The two of you will fight now", Constantinus said. "Begin."
Ambrosius looked at his father, and the next moment he was pushed to the ground. The blond boy stood in front of Ambrosius and looked down on him but Ambrosius' attempt to get back on his feet was invane when the blond boy suddenly bored his knee into Ambrosius stomach and braced an arm against his throat. The wrestling went on for a while, and no matter what the king's son tried, he could not free himself from the blond boy's grip. But suddenly, when Constantinus turned his horse around, seemingly giving up on his son's victory, Ambrosius screamed, pushed the blond boy away, jumped up and hit his opponent in the face. The blond boy fell down unconscious.
Ambrosius now looked down on his plaguer, heavily breathing while the king turned around to his son, reproachfully.
"Next time you will win over your enemy immediately. There is no second chance on the battlefield. When you start something, make sure you finish the job."
Constantinus paused. Then he said: "And there is no way that I ever accept being humiliated by my son's weakness."
The king rode away and Ambrosius started to cry in anger, eager to hide his tears when he tumbled toward the palace.

It was only two years later, two years for Gaius hiding from the royal family but watching over Ambrosius, when the king left Rome after his eldest son's death, taking Ambrosius and his brother with him to the lands of Albion. Constantinus' mission remained unclear to Gaius who followed them back to the land that gave him so much more insight into the magic he needed in order to understand what it takes to save Ambrosius from dying an unjust death. The only information he had was that the king did not intend to stay in Albion and that his reasons were strategic ones. As fate willed, Constantinus had to stay in the kingdom he was welcomed in, establishing close ties with those who would help him strengthening his power after Rome had suffered a drastical change while the king was gone. People were talking about Constantinus abandoning his home and leaving it vulnerable to conquerors or political enemies who were eager to take over, but Constantinus kept pretending to be the strong king who will return when the time is right, not showing any sign of remorse or, as he would believe, weakness.
Of course, the rumours about the weak king of Rome who abandoned his own kingdom were not unheard by his two sons who struggled to conform with their new life in a whole new land, colder and darker than their own. The strange language was the least problem.
King Ector's son, Godwyn, who was some years older than Ambrosius, took care of the new boy and soon befriended him.
And Constantinus, who witnessed unnatural things that were called sorcery here in Albion, kept denying that such things existed. He was always eager to ignore anything that had to do with magic, telling his son's that people here were superstitious and unsophisticated, and that it was his and his sons' duty to bring them to senses.
It was the time when Constantinus slowly weakened, began to talk with himself and with people who were not there. His new wife, a former servant, tried to hide Constantinus' condition best she could and also tried to ignore her husband's constant admonitions toward his sons to not get involved with servants since they were far beneath them and would try to take advantage of their heritage and wealth.
Gaius listened to the gossip very curiously. He was certain that Ambrosius and his brother must have been more than confused and devastated by the fact that their father had married a serving girl, warned his sons about servants and slowly lost his mind. And all that in a new country with a new culture, seperated from the rest of their family and friends.
And it was some years later when Gaius heard the news of Constantinus' worsened condition that was supposed to be caused by years of being poisoned by the brother of his new wife, the former serving girl.
Ambrosius, not the small boy he used to be but now a tall young man and the only son of Constantinus after his second brother had died in an ambush that was led by a follower of the Old Religion who had declared to wipe out the king's family, demanded from the land's king Ector the execution of his stepmother's brother who had tried to get advantage of his sister's wealth and power once the former king of Rome was dead. Constantinus' second wife was innocent and had remained unaware of her brother's actions until all evidence was against him. She left the land and was never be seen again.
Gaius was sure that Constantinus' condition of mind had not been caused by the poison. The signs of an illness that weakened the sprit had been there long before the former king met his new wife and her brother. The poison only quickened what was inevitable.
Now Ambrosius was alone with his father, the only one left of his family, out of mind and weak, and close to his death.
The young, tall man, not quite having come of age, took care of his father who was constantly muttering that he and Ambrosius had to sophisticate the people in this land to free them from superstition and to lead them into a future of progression and science, while Albion was shaken by battles and corrupting magic, causing thousands of people to die and be opressed by the Old Religion's domination.
At that time, Gaius considered the possibility that he might have been wrong with his concerns. Was this Ambrosius' doom, being left alone, seperated from everyone he loved? Perhaps it was not about his death but about loss and his love dying. The physician found himself in deep dismay over the fact that he was helpless against such a curse. It was not only about saving the life of someone but about saving the lives of everyone who was close to his protégé. And he had failed. But could he be sure, was it a curse that would cause loss and not the actual death of Ambrosius? Had he wasted years of years trying to protect Ambrosius from something that would not even happen and from something he was incapable of changing?
Gaius was tempted to let go off the self-imposed duty. When he was about to leave, a beautiful woman crossed his way. Her name was Alice.
And at the same time, the physician heard the news of young Ambrosius having fallen in love with the Lady Ygraine. The king's son who had lost his father, changed his name. He left for Camelot, the kingdom that used to be so powerful and now was almost destroyed by the misuse of magic and descended into chaos. The son of the former king of Rome now went by the name Uther Pendragon.
Gaius decided to stay. -