Morgana was unprepared for the grim smile that slid across the servants face. Arthur lay forgotten and slowly dying at her feet yet she was still opposed. Still this boy, this man, this warlock stood before her and smiled a smile that made Morgana wish to flee. This smirk was neither of pride nor joy and held no evil but the grim satisfaction of victory over a nemesis. Her eyes glanced at the sword he held firmly, the light glinting off the fine blade and before she could utter a word she felt it slide cleanly into her side.
"I am a high priestess." She choked, pained pants escaping as she raised her hands to clutch at the sword. "No mortal sword can kill me."
"I know." His response was. "But this is neither a mortal sword nor do I intend to kill you Morgana La Fay." His eyes burned. "There is a place, where once I intended to die and yet survived at the cost of another. Arthur is the once and future king, the ruler of Albion and I am willing to lay down my life for his own. But now I do not have to." The smile once more. "For as you mentioned before my Lady is that a high priestess is nothing to scoff at, and while you are no Emrys, your life is a high price... worthy of a king in fact."
"You... you cannot! I will not be traded for my brother's life!" Her anger grew and the winds howled and trees shook. Yet it was stopped with the simple wave of his hand.
Eyes narrowing he straightened his back and with a mighty tug freed the sword from the priestess's ribcage, stepping back as she fell to her knees. "You are a powerful opponent Morgana La Fay; that wound will prove fatal in just under a day. But do not fret, for a half a day is all you have, and all I need."
Forgotten at his feet Arthur lay against the rocks and watched as his sister fell in his place. Watching as his servant cleaned Arthur's own blade of the blood before throwing it aside, turning, and smiling.
