No one can know how they would be remembered. Not even the Seers of the old religion ever dared to see their own fate. To know where you're going to go, is to know nothing, yet everything. We change our minds everyday. Every second a new path is open to us. We either go down it, or stay on our current thread.

No one can know how they're going to die. Whether it would a simple brick that brings the end, or some great battle that you had the privilege to see. To see the end of your path, is to die prematurely. No one wants to know how their going to die. Nor do they want to die at all.

But I did.

This is a tale of magic, dragons, and the greatest man that ever walked the Earth. But it is also a tale of heart-break, blood, and too many tears to count.

My name is Elysia Louvell. And this is how I was remembered.

o0o

I was different. I always was. I knew it, too. No one spared me the knowledge of my difference. But I was always a innocent child, and perhaps a dash naïve. I just thought they were pointing out a fact, not being cruel. It is only later that I realise how horrible most people would take my childhood to be.

I had magic. I didn't bother hiding it, why should I? People liked magic. They were intrigued as to how we did it, or by the beauty a simple word could cause. At the furthest reaches of my mind, I can remember a time when things were better in Camelot.

People would perform small tricks on the street for the little ones, like making the flowers bloom and rainbows appear in the sky. I still remember those incantations. I remember when medicine was redundant, and all our physicians were sorcerers. Well, all but one. I remember, when I was eighteen, there was a little girl on the corner of the main market street. She would sell flowers to those who could spare a penny, or would do a magic trick for slightly more. She was a sweet thing, and reminded me like myself from my younger days. Everyday I would walk by, giving her two pennies instead of one. She would always make sure to personally put the small daisy in my hair, and make me promise to wear it all day. I kept my promise, I was just that sort of person.

These memories were what calmed me once Uther took the throne. His rein wasn't slow and peaceful, it was fast and brutal. One night, you could have been sleeping peacefully in your bed, and the next night in the afterlife. Uther did not seem to realise that the people he was killing had harmed no one, yet they were deemed evil. Magic gave him his son, yet he did not kill his child. He was biased and unjust. I remember the day when the girl on the street corner was burned at the pyre. The screams from her soul will haunt me for the rest of my days. I watched as my friends and family were murdered by a supposed great king.

I was twenty-one when I decided that Uther deserved no loyalty from me. I left a week after that, with only my small bag and the cloth on my back. I was a maidservant working in the castle by then, for the young Lady Morgana. She was a sweet child, if a little stubborn. I loved her as if she was my own sister, yet when I asked her to come with me, she said 'I owe Uther my loyalty. You do not, but I love you anyway'. She then wrapped her little arms around my legs, and told me to go quickly.

I ran down to the dungeons, where the secret path only the royal family, and the servants of the family knew of. I was almost there, when I heard a soft whispering in my mind.

Alexia

I turned around, and followed the whispers of my name. I could not explain it, even now, but I just knew I had to find the owner of the voice. I was led down to the deepest part of the castle, an underground cavern, where our water came from. Moonlight shone down, lighting up the stalactites, casting an unearthly glow. The soft breeze lazily drew down, playing with my dress and hair, before continuing on its way.

So enchanted was I, that I barely noticed the leathery flapping of dragon wings, and the thud of a great beast landing on a stone pedestal. It was only his deep chuckles that brought me out of my thoughts.

I gasped at the sight of such a regal creature. I had heard of dragons before, how they lived in the deepest reaches of the forest, and were magical beings, but I never imagined seeing one for my own. He had brilliant gold scales, and glowing eyes that shone with amusement. He was enormous, and could swallow me in one gulp, yet I felt at peace with him. I could not imagine a more beautiful creature.

'You are magnificent,' I breathed, looking at him with awe in my eyes. The dragon chuckled.

'Your compliments are most welcome,' smiled the dragon. I found myself smiling back.

'What is your name?' I asked politely. He knew mine, it was only fair I knew his. Also formality had been drilled into me for many years, and I could not just break a habit at the sight of a dragon, magnificent may he be.

'I am Kilgharrah, young soul-keeper,' he introduced himself. Kilgharrah, meaning intelligence, loneliness, independence, and ambition.

'A wondrous name, and befitting for you, Kilgharrah. But, might I inquire as to why we are in a cave at the lowest point in Camelot?' I asked him. He laughed once more. His laughs were deep, and joy-filled. Yet there was the hidden sound of sadness in his chuckles. I wondered what it could have been for.

'It has come to my attention, that I shall be here for many years. I am merely looking to see what my home will look like,' He said, but with the same deep sadness in his eyes. He's going to be trapped here, I realized. I bowed my head in sadness.

'I am so sorry. For a creature of fire and air, this is not a welcomed place,' I said sadly. He smiled at my concern.

'It is not I who I fear for. Your name has been added to Uthers list. You are to be hanged in the morning,' Kilgharrah informed me. I gasped, my hands flying to my lips. The dragon bowed his head, as if ashamed.

'I apologise for what I am to do, you have been nothing but kind to me. But you are important, and you cannot die now,' Kilgharrah stated sadly. 'I only hope you can forgive me.'

I smiled softly at the beautiful beast. 'I forgive you always, Great Dragon. I have been told stories of your kind, and know they are quite exceptional seers and prophets. My Mama used to say you were the keepers of the worlds balance. If what you say is true, then I can only assume you are doing this for the greater good.'

There was small relief in Kilgharrahs eyes, yet it was drowned quickly by his regret. I had never wished more than to touch him. Just a soft touch to show him he is truly forgiven.

'Then, young soul-keeper, I curse you with the gift of immortality, and the name of Elysia Louvell' He said, before his warm breath envelop me. I could feel something changing inside me. It was like a barrier had snapped, and I had been flooded. I could not breathe, I was drowning. I heard the soft leathery sound of Kilgharrah taking his leave, and the clanging of marching guards, as they grew ever closer.

I felt burning in my veins, as fire curse my body. It raged like the dying light, desperate to keep a-flame. I wished for relief, yet I knew it would never come. The heat surged through me, from head to toe. No part of me was spared. It hurt, it hurt like nothing had before. It felt like I had been dipped into a lake of pain, and nothing could ease it. Then it felt like ice. I was so cold. It froze my limbs and made me immobile. I could not feel a single part of me. It was like crystals of ice slowed my blood, the cold hugging my body, never relenting.

The clanging of metal grew louder, and I could not help but wonder if it was just the clanging in my head. I was proven wrong when at least twelve guards surrounded me, arresting me quickly, with no resistance on my part. How could I resist when I was burning like the heat of the sun, and freezing like a deer facing the hunters arrow? I could not move a muscle, never mind fighting off twelve armed guards with nothing but my wits and bare fists.

Soon, I was standing in front of the King. He was different than the last time I saw him. There was a rage in his eyes that swallowed his old joy filled irises. I had heard his wife had died, killed by a sorcerer, but how could that spark this much hate? How had he let it get this far? I knew more than the other servants, having served the young Lady Morgana for the few months she had been in Camelot, and I knew that the late Queen Ygraine was as barren as the eastern deserts. The King was so desperate for an heir, or just a single child, that he had fallen upon magic. He called upon the sorceress Nimueh, a Priestess of the old religion. He and the Queen were so happy when Ygraine had fallen pregnant they had forgotten the ancient rule of magic. To make one life, another must be taken. That had been taught to young sorcerers since the beginning, no one wanting their kin to make the mistake the King had. Now, Ygraine had died, and instead of focussing on his new son, the Prince Arthur, he let his hate and anger fester, and instead of blaming his own ignorance, he blamed magic. How the mighty have fallen.

As I was brought to the Kings feet, I looked at his son, Prince Arthur. He was wriggling in his nursemaids arms, and I felt disgust at Uther for letting his six month old son watch him condemn another to death. How dare he let a child watch this! And how dare he let Lady Morgana watch as her nursemaid was sentenced to death. She had tears on her cheeks and despair in her eyes. I wish I could of held her, calmed her, but now it seemed I never would.

I looked upon Uther, hate, anger, and pity swirling like a wind storm in my eyes, my pain forgotten.

'Alexia Statten, you have been summoned here today under the accusation of practicing magic. How do you plead,' Uther stated instead of asking. I knew I was going to die. I might as well tell him my thoughts.

'Magic did not take your Queen away from you, Sire. Your own ignorance did. And now you have proclaimed war on the innocent party,' I said, getting a furious glare from Uther, and gasps from the nobles watching today. I pointed to Prince Arthur, immediately having swords pointed at my neck in fear I would curse him. 'Prince Arthur is a child born of magic. Are you going to kill him too, for participating in the dark art? Or will you leave him as he had no idea. Children have no idea that making the flowers bloom will kill them and their families, they just want to make something pretty. And yet you are killing them. Every night when I close my eyes I still hear them screaming, and it breaks my heart. You cannot proclaim that magic has no heart either, My lord, for if it does not, then how can I cry?' I asked him, with tears falling down my face from the memories. I was lucky I was old enough to know not to practice magic in public anymore. The other children were not. At first I thought I had gotten through to Uther, but his face hardened until it resembled stone.

'Throw her in the dungeon. She will be executed in the morning.'

'No!' shouted Morgana, before running to me. I was restrained, but she was not. She threw herself onto me, and sobbed into my shoulder. I tried to get her to leave me, but she refused. I looked to Uther. He was furious.

'Guards, remove her from the prisoner,' he ordered. The guards ripped Morgana from me, her fighting them all the way. I could never hold her again, but I could give her a gift. I lunged forwards, and Morgana grabbed me. Before the guards could capture me again, I whispered magic in her ear.

'Yfel rið êower mid ellen,' I whispered, my eyes flashing gold. She gasped at me, no doubt feeling the new strength I had given her, while I smiled reassuringly as they dragged me out.

They locked me in a cold cell. I did not mind much. I could not, as there was no warm cells to be in. I reflected on the days events. What did Kilgharrah mean by the gift of immortality? Did he really mean I would be immortal? Why would he bother with a simple nursemaid? He was a great dragon, surely he could find a powerful warlock and give them the gift. What could I possibly do that would be so important? He called me 'young soul-keeper'. What did it mean? What was a soul-keeper?

And my name. I thought it was Alexia Statten, but the name he told me, Elysia Louvell, it felt right. I suppose that's to be my name now. I liked it.

With these restless thoughts, I lulled myself into a fitful sleep.

o0o

The next morning passed so slowly, I found myself wishing time would go faster. I had woken at dawn, as was proper for servants. Unfortunately, my death wasn't until the afternoon. Strange, I should be feeling upset, fearful or even mad, yet I felt...calm. It was odd.

Soon, the time for my death came. I wasn't surprised or disappointed I had no visitors before it, for the King would not allow it. I just could not help feeling lonely. All my family was dead for possessing magic. I still remember the sound of the swift chop of the axe. Sometimes there was multiple strikes. They were the worst.

I was pulled to the gallows, the rope hanging tauntingly. A crowd had gathered, either out of fear, or eagerness to see one hang. I did not know which was worse.

The King stood above me, sending me hate filled glares, with a touch of smugness. I stared defiantly back at him. If I was to die, I would die honorably. As we reached the platform, I pulled out of my guards hands, and walked to my fate with my head held high.I will not show my fear, I will not show my fear, I will not show my fear, I chanted in my mind.

As the rope was put around my neck, I let a single tear fall. It splashed on the wood by my feet, and I felt like everyone could see it.

'This women, Alexia Statten, is found guilty of practicing magic inside the kingdom. And pursuant to the laws of Camelot, there's only one sentence I can pass,' said Uther. I looked up to him, my face defiant.

'You will get no screams from me, Uther Pendragon! I refuse to be the subject of a childs nightmare tonight! Yet you are every childs bad dream!' I shouted, before the floor fell from my feet and the rope snapped my neck.

I felt it. I felt as I died. I was drained. And it hurt. It made the pains of last night feel like a kick to the leg compared to this. Pain, pain, pain, pain, was the only thing my mind could think of. Yet I was aware of it all. Wasn't my mind supposed to die with my body? If this is the afterlife, I am sure I'm in hell. Maybe that's what the devil does. He lets you rot in your skin, feeling everything. Every maggot festering in your skin, every decaying finger, every mouthful of dirt. If it was, I hope the dragons words could be taken as truth.

I felt my dead body being thrown into a river, where I gasped my first breath. Unfortunately, it was not a breath of air, it was a breath of cool water. I kicked my limbs until I reached the bank. I gasped, coughing up the water I had breathed. Shaking, I willed my limbs to move until I rested on grass. There I lay, until my strength grew.

I slowly reached for my neck, fearful for what might find. It was fine. My neck was intact, as was my other limbs. I was perfectly fine! I gaped in astonishment. How could I be fine?! I died! I felt it! I felt tears fall as I remembered the pain. It hurt so much! How could I have bared it?

I stood unsteadily on my legs, before looking around. I appeared to be in the forests surrounding Camelot. I looked upon the kingdom sadly. Camelot used to be a place with peace, and happiness. And then Uther came to the throne. He has truly destroyed everything Camelot stood for. Yet I could not feel hatred or anger at him. I just felt pity that he had let his hate fester this far. I turned around, and began walking deeper into he forest, hoping that I could find some place to rest, eat, and sleep.

And perhaps some clothes.