Arthur Pendragon is a adequate boy with grace, king of success and bloodline- new to his throne and a grand specimen of youth and lust. He is all and a fine husband- of fortnight he had with his wife Guinevere, severely lacking none of traits that shame once taste on a wagon between once legs.
With his eyes green as the mountains bask in the sun rays, women are compelled to adore him from far and beyond, so thus his body, frame, fame and claims. Who wouldn't love the King who unsheathed the Sword of Peace prophesized to the world?
Who wouldn't like a young sovereign, regarded as the symbol of hope, prosperity and tranquility, inspiring god with his beauty?
Who wouldn't like a young husband, nude as he was born; to welcome his wife for a consummation of love?
Alas, not everyone is meant to be swayed by his form, as Arthur's wife- Guinevere, warily covering her goddess frame supple and full of innocence, eyes turn down below to the wood between.
He drew a frown on his chiseled face, concern radiating fully out his pores. Why does his wife doubt him to be gentle in their night of escapade?
Could it be the size of what makes him man? Could it be the lack of clothing that a woman would like to unshed for themselves? Could it be his wife is force to act according to her responsibilities as his own?
It did not bode well to the man.
Arthur has no clue, so he consoled- voice a silver and of gold. Enchanting and mesmerizing, asking, "What is the matter? The night won't wait for the sun to rise, love one."
His wife drew away, towards the edge of the cot, away from him- frightened, quivering in agitation, in response to the inquiry he uttered. Deeply worried, the fourteen year old wife, whimpered in the chilled breeze.
"You are not my husband." It is a statement. Mere fact.
Arthur smiles; forced, drawing closer to the woman, which the lady deeply ire. "Had you forgotten the face you had kissed in front of our God, my queen?"
"Had you forgotten the prospect of our meeting for this night, my king?" feisty, the woman modestly shies back. Her cascading hair ill-suited to the harsh expression of her eyes. Pity, Arthur loves her fierce side.
"To bring an heir to the world." he replied, quite proudly, restricting a scared lady in the corner, putting arms on her waist, much to Guinevere's charge in.
"And the world will reject our offer," the wife snarls, pulling away from his embrace, glaring with all her might. ", for you are not the person I vowed to be mine!"
"I'm afraid you sure quite mistaken, my love," syrupy, Arthur dip his hands at the jar of luck, beckoning the meek woman to stand in his front. "For I, am Arthur."
"Hoh? Are you now?"
However, it seems he is caught with sharp maws awaiting his hands.
And so with the breeze sending the frozen inquiry did Arthur had experience a cold born from the shadows. The air stilled. The ground sways. And the stars dimmed.
A pair of radiant yellow eyes approaches from the closed wooden door. Immaculate blonde hair of perfection renewed from the gaze of the moon. The cascading robe of blue rustles like a cackle of the Grim Reaper's bones.
Deadly.
Predator.
Poison.
The silent question of his presence; unworthy to be voiced out to the world.
The young man-, no- woman sauntered like a lion to its den, barely containing her possessiveness, standing guard to her queen.
'Arthur' drew an anxious laugh. He backs away with renewed strength, hands covering his manliness- and the illusion filtering his figure disrupts on its own. Now that's the cause of Guinevere's reaction. He did not expect the King himself had revealed his true gender out of his knowledge. Too late, he regrets not attending the parade of her reign, to inform himself of his mistake.
"Merlin." ,the real King- Altria Pendragon whispered.
Small but clear.
Heard and listened.
The person masquerading as Arthur forced himself to gulp down his fears, and farce a confidence born out of nothing. He summoned his courage to preserve himself- and gave a conciliating manner within his upturned arms.
But alas, the mouth is a sinner, and the words simmer with fear.
"In my defense, I am certain you'll not reveal it to your wife once I'm finished…. First time's a charm, right?" And thus, not even crickets could start distracting the peace; the demolition flattening half of Camelot came in.
CHAPTER XI: THE WIZARD HUNT: PREDATORS AND PREY
"What did I do, what did I do, what did I do, What. Did. I. Do!?" Merlin squawked in fear, murmuring repeatedly.
After returning home in his morning flight, he had realized that his absence upset someone powerful enough to verdict upon one single day to hunt him down. Of course, a person is powerful enough to persuade men and women, especially children and elders- outcast, poor, wealthy, royalties and guards combine for a bounty of worth any single wish the King can provide.
They stood at ready, scattered everywhere with a shine in their eyes and leer on their faces. The phenomenal sadistic flukes are plastered everywhere and their preferred equipment gripped in their hands in eagerness. He knew he's at fault for a many that was awaken pregnant and their virginity stolen but, come on- it's not like it's that many… right?
So it could be a different reason…. Right?
However, that miraculous insanity is not what gave the all-powerful wizard the goose bumps of a lifetime. Oh- No- o- o- o- o- o! What made him drive up close to the walls of his defense is the necessity to hunt him down! And whoever thought that-!
"EXCALIBUR!"
"Kyah!?" He is adamant to refuse that he squealed like a lady in heat as he dodged a huge burst of yellow mana straight in his way. The road crack in its disturbance, carts turn upside down and horses running for their survival. He stood, clothes singed and mouth agape; eyes twitching in complete bafflement, before he turn head and guzzled down his poise.
What kind of an insane person will unleash Excalibur to cleave the market in half just to take a piece of his flank!?
Oh.
Right.
Altria is. His thought reminded. The dust cleared a path for that familiar yellowgaze, familiar sensation of right and familiar killing commitment.
Well hello there, Alter Altria~. Merlin's legs ooze like a jelly, defending his second head. He had felt it; the flashbacks of his not so tactful persuasion many years ago. How he deceive none but himself. How he hid for two straight years after being maimed by a humanized dragon. He hid underground licking his wounds of egocentricity and scampering in his knees after recovering his detached male anatomy.
What could possibly tip off the King? It's not like he persuade the Queen yet again and did a heinous act of laying filthy hands on anyone Altria likely treas-
Oh…..
Oh…
Oh..
OH NO. He whimpered, gaze outstandingly returning to his earlier action.
"I wanna touch it!" the wyrmling pouted, trying to touch the toned muscles in his stomach, marred with water and a freshly scented roses. He prevents it, with his hand on the tot's head, brushing it playfully before pushing her back harshly. The homunculus adorably puff her cheeks out, clothes in disarray by the force and her bum taking all the unwanted attention, seemingly in pain.
"What'cha did that for!?"
"Sorry, lass. I told you, didn't I? Inspect it, no touching. These babies are not for snotty kids like you to be messed with."
"But I wanna touch your cooties! I don't have yuckie thingies! See!?" Just to prove her point, the homunculus raise her robe, perfectly presenting her round tummy, still perfectly shape that define baby fats the women adore so much from the ugly snot faces. Merlin would have crunch his face in disgust, but he's far from his cheerful mask of a counselor and thus, only shakes his head in bemusement at the act.
"Once you grew and train and play, yours will present itself."
"Ew! It would not!"
"Oh, sure it will~. Every hardworking folks has two or whole."
"What about Dada!?"
"Your Dada might have them. I'm not sure. It's up to you to find out."
"What will I say?" the child tilt her head to the side, confusion lace in her face.
"Just be truthful," he half- heartedly said, laziness in between his breath. "You can tell him what you wanted to say. I don't care."
"Even if I tell him what happened here?" the child's words never implied much but innocence, nothing between the lines.
"Certainly." He agreed without hesitation, succumbing to the hazy scent of roses of Rome.
"Alright! If you say so!"
"Run little mouse. Run." the King advices, voice taciturn and undeniably coated in madness.
He complied with a head start. His tongue tied with his argument dying down his throat.
A perfect misunderstanding this day was. But he knew better. Merlin knew better!
That brat! his mind seethed, She did this on purpose!
Meanwhile, at the castle walls- Mordred tweaks at her mother's sleeves, innocuously pulling Guinevere out into frenzy as the sun stayed indolently at the top of the sky.
"Mama, is Emry's still alive?"
"It will not be long…" the queen replied, watching the outside world with concern.
"Muh? Mama, is Emrys still living?"
"No," Guinevere shook her head in resignation, but the bubbling giggle in her throat said otherwise. "He's going to die."
Let it be known; the mighty King, Altria Pendragon is quite sensitive to her feelings.
She was given out the day she was born, to humorously be raise as a perfect knight, to rule and to learn- to be the heir in hiding, and to obscure the sun itself with her vibrancy, to own the land and soil under her tiny foot.
She willed it. She let others dictate her world. She let fate be carved on her way- to see the good horizon beyond, to feel the breeze with her own lungs, and to gain experience with the folks both rude and humble.
She let the sword gave the word, and she complies in her own accord.
She gave it, martyr enough to give the fine piece of her soul.
What a selfless little girl, some says, but it is not far from the truth.
However, Altria is still a human. She was still a child. She had things that she wanted, and she had things that she liked.
One of it is her own feelings, buried deep inside. If latch and attached itself to someone, those things will send dreamful skies of wonderful future Altria will deemed good to apply.
She is sensitive- far too loving than anyone combine. She cared too much, hate too much, ignore too much- that her own world will focus on keeping it safe, even it cost her real happiness; real gain.
And when she treasured dearly, she keep it forever;
Camelot, mighty and everlasting.
Her adored and precious woman, who she married with a pure intent to cherish, to breathe until they clouded by death or laid down side by side.
Her pride and joy, the daughter she had spared life, the baby girl she have very much loved. Her everything. The light of her life.
She had never once look for more. She protected them in her warm, cradle them in her arms.
She loved them. They are dear to the King….. and whoever threatens them will feel the full scale of her wrath, the insecurities and the burning fury of her possessiveness to keep them safe out of the reach of blacks adorning the earth she had made.
And so, it is no matter that she lost herself in her inner demons; the self that loved and love. The person that will open up hell to everyone, just to keep those cherished people safe.
"Your time is running. Hide well, Merlin~."
Indeed, let it be known; Altria Pendragon is sensitive.
Non- stop running for many hours ignite much tedious problems the wizard could hope in his untrained stamina.
As Merlin make his way to a safe haven- location still unknown, with the people stampeding close behind, the magic within him convulse into a nervous mess- flight or fight instinct of a human body has run its course of adrenaline to cease the majestic leaps of his heart. He turned around to look back at his pursuers, and regret it immediately when the rouge smiles reach close to their eyes.
"Hey there, kitty kitty~!" the leader reach out with his prongs, as if his white hair is that of a cat that he can impaled!
"Curse you!" Merlin shriek in terror, feeding his legs with a huge amount of force and magic to propel him to the scrawny rooftops because- for heaven's sake, there's a freaking meter between him and the mob!
Without even a single breath, arrows strike his trail with numbing accuracy in his foot falls which regain deathly speed. He ducked in the slope; afraid, daring to peep a glance to see-!
He gaped.
"Tristan!?" He shouts in horror. The ever kind Tristan, and a painfully treading song of arrows awaits their call. Merlin should have run further, away from him, but seriously, who wouldn't gawk to a person who can shoot arrows with his eyes closed!?
He see the Knight of the heart grimly smiled, resigned to his role and mouthing an apology before readying his majestic bow, four arrows string to be launch. Archers honed him like a missile launcher very far away from the future he dreamed; scattered yet symmetrically in position, and exactly aiming at his next flock of rotting wood board before he prevented being impaled by the perfect timed fire, jumping down an alley….. on the hands of awaiting soldiers with their swords raised.
Weaponries? Acceptable.
Sorceries? Inevitable.
Seduction? Not feasible.
Destruction? Downright possible.
Merlin is powerful, yes, but controlling the mass horde of power to simultaneously prevent people from being toast as a frog is difficult undeniably. Of course, that much raw magic can turn heads and those who are armed to repel him might create a way to actually cut his meat in a deadly precision.
Hey, at least the people are happy to see us die, aye? A small part of his conscience whispered; jest or not, Merlin has the tendency to replied a shout of 'WRONG!' to squash the thought with tribulation. "That is not helping mind! SO NOT HELPING!" Oh dear, look at him; desperate and talking to himself.
I will find that brat, I TRULY WILL! He vowed to himself, to try to clear these mess of day.
With a great effort, he instinctually morphed into a rat to slide down one sword and to the ground. Running into the metallic feet of the distracted soldiers, he slammed his way into freedom-
BAMH!
He yipped, eyes advancing to hard black orbs as the war hammer was lifted to the crater it produce.
Agravain.
"Hn." Agravain snorts; face still as stony as his rigid body. "Don't forget we knew what you can do. Fool." The war hammer is raise again, and he skid his way to an upside cart, skillfully ignoring the explosions of woods and dust mixed with splinters cutting his hind legs and lower backs.
Yet, as much as he is at the advantage of his transformation and can certainly search a hole and stay there with his tails between his legs, the actuality of being rat- minded made him doubt. Of course, human are compelled to run due to building pressure, and with it, includes the wizard who run and run until his formed yet again, failed him- returning back in his original look lacking the focus it needs.
This turn heads and the pandemonium starts again.
For the record, physical activity for him without the presence of a warm cushion is as great as running in circles for a whole day without water. Actively pushing himself to his limits implies only on his ability to keep his magic accessible for days on end- not by completely running out in gods be damn obstacles accompanied by pursuing sadistic people he protected from evil dames and curses!
He's barely out in the filthy road with his tell a tale white cloak forgotten in favor for a swift and easy acceleration of speed when-!
OMPH!
"Seriously!?" Merlin cried out in surprise, painstakingly pulling a piece of nuisance in his flank. Greatly troubled, he could see an open window; perch in its sturdy side is a giggling little boy, ready to fire another one of his tool. "Blow dart! IN MY BUTT CHEEK! I'll remember you, BOY! TRY TO HIDE FROM ME WHEN I SURVIVED!" he growled, sprinting into narrow holes and evading flying woks and baskets full of fruits. With a great agility, he whirled and toppled in the wooden lapels of low windows using reinforce muscles, soot covered clothes unattended.
With his dirty hair sticking in places- thanks to a quick burst of fire arrow surprising him from behind; the hilarity of his utterly panicked expression has been a ploy for the courageous men and knights to redouble their efforts to catch the flailing prey in atrocious urge to compete with one another- dooming Merlin closer to his passing age. Until he veers into a tight door of a grim kitchen, towards the living room and morphing into a falcon to churn into the fireplace and out of the chimney, taking the sky on his own.
He would have laugh-
If the freaking birds are not on my tail also! He soar and evade the flock of feathers and –wait, is that vultures!?- twist out of the way.
"Oh, OW! Cut tha- OW! OUT!" he groaned, dashing below and using a barrel roll to remain aloft. He traced the paths unattended and cut a clean drift to the plaza center, birds on his feathers gaining much more momentum. Flank with the vultures snapping their beaks in dangerous manner, he zoomed up into the castle for an exact right angle, blocking his pursuers further strife as they slammed into the stone wall. He found the source of control not long after, to Tristan's ever playing lyre of a bow!
"Deprive me of my freedom, will you!?" he screeched, diving close to the red head and went stiff-!
FWWOOOMH!
-Just to evade a javelin thrown to his left.
"The skies won't bring solitude, Merlin!" a handsome voice called, as Merlin drive an arc towards the clouds. He tried not to respond, he really did- for he knew Lancelot's words rang true.
The sky above the kingdom is an open space, free to be shot upon by professional archers and hunters of birds. Yet, below is also a home for a hundred of thousands of people, the scavengers still fear to hurt their comrades in one goal.
However, once Altria covets herself on her inner demons, her one track mind would be the death of all. She will use everything in her disposal to achieve even the nonrealistic objectives, whether to break and kill and- he certainly hope not- bath the sky with her supreme lance brought by the miracles gifted from the heavens above.
So much for a wonderful day. Merlin mourned. He soar high in a speed his falcon self can endure, lest the spear that wound a dragon once might scald his lungs wide open. The turbulence laced with hate drums spit pains and cuts in his flapping wings, ruffling the feathers and giving him direction towards unending chaos within the sky.
With a mighty flap, he regains velocity which not even arrows can stride far. He drew closer to the clouds, away and close to the walls-
BAM!
And he was blocked, straight down.
-He chokes on his own spit, diving face first into a barrier, which he didn't raised there!
With the barrier expertly rustling his mind beyond fear, something snapped within.
Someone is laughing in my expense! Someone has to!
Unbeknownst to him, someone just did.
So he let himself fall, and the voice in his head resurface with jeer. Cooing in pity.
Then….
Then the world seems so….. funny. Sobafflingmagnificenthecant-!
A small memory resurfaces in the crack.
Pandemonium.
Hunting.
Everyone.
… Playing?
Merlin's face doubled into a maniacal hilarity. His eyes went pinpricks, and the world seems so much better than he thought it would be.
The day seems so fitting.
So perfect-!
So…. So extraordinaire divine!
No- o- o- o~! He sung, wheezing his vengeance.
He won't run away. Nope. Never. Na- uh~!
Have they thought they could bully him and never receive revenge in return!? Hah! Guess again!
This will be his day also.
His Wizard's Day!
Oh- ho- ho- ho~! Hunt me down, alright! I'll make you all regret it!
And so, with a burst of magic…..
The sky rains of mooing cows and colorful bubbles, creating a mirage of rainbows and confetti.
Esmeralda is so many things, but inconspicuous is her favorite character amongst the degradable.
So ordinary, in fact, that she was banished from the Great City of Resting Place for the One True King for being unworthy.
So simple, where she could not use magic too long without tiring herself.
So miserable in her own mana, she was captured and married into a wanton King, abusing her as a tool in every inhumane way.
So plain, she was feebler than human, yet far more beautiful beyond she can comprehend accepting being simplistic in nature.
So unresponsive, that she had turned into a lifeless doll- unconscious to the real world- only to find out, that a small babe was in her womb, taken by her pooch of a husband, used as her replacement craving for flesh.
She should hate the darling with her very being, as she was born out of lust of a human she could not even hurt by a fingernail in her soiled hands. But the love so powerful, the reason of the absolute existence of fairies and magic to the world- pulled her heartstrings to her little baby, nourishing her life, craving to the wonderful life she had birthed to the world.
Yet… being ordinary is what makes her life difficult. She is powerless. She is useless and frail. She could not even save her own child by the binds of the treacherous husband, not ceasing in the slightest to look ahead of Esmeralda's child as his own- but of that of a new meat. A new toy. An ordinary babe born on brothel. Of course, Esmeralda agreed that the babe is not one given to her by the naive mongrel.
But Esmeralda also digressed.
Her baby- her beautiful baby- is by no means ordinary in nature. She is inconspicuous on her own, dull eyes and hair, perfectly average on her own limitations….. but her vast magic far exceeds millennium.
Weiss is beautiful in her own eyes, seeing the boundaries far beyond physical reflection, too young from the Creation of Life but too old for a child with seven winters in her tail- like her babe was created from magic itself.
As is her name, which represents 'white fields' straight from the ethereal Avalon- innocent and born anew. It also compiles the great white tombs in the fields presenting 'closure' , 'death' and 'reborn' to be part of the world yet again, but, in a spiritual form as a warden of nature.
She's utterly different, powerful yet humble in her own gain. Esmeralda professes that Weiss should be living in Avalon amongst the strong; but the babe is far more humble than she thought.
Weiss saw herself as weak as her mother. Ordinary and plain for the omnipotent treasure of the world.
Weiss is proud to be one, because in her own words; Weak are born to develop, to encompass being strong and win against champions. Inconspicuous are what we all started, before we overcome hardships and reached goals.
And so, it is no surprise that her babe began to create her little scheme in the eventful day of the perverse wizard, bored out in her own mind. She too, would create one- if it suited well in her hard gained side- character personality effect.
So, without any warning at the populace, Esmeralda's little baby creates a 'dome' at the sky, with only her voice as a rule to bend reality within the confines of the kingdom.
'My Reality Marble', Weiss said once before. 'Knowing the cause but bending the facts' with the simple explanation that the dome is an object cannot be penetrated. So if it cannot be penetrated, it can be identified as a mass. So if it can be a mass, then it is plausible to solidify.
While bending the truth according to her creativity, the 'dome' cannot be penetrated, excluding impression that it is a mass to be identified with five senses which results in solidity invisible to a human senses, defining simple logic of magic.
One peculiar example before is that a human. A human is alive, so it is a living organism. If a human is a living organism then it can die. However, if a human is alive, whether it is a living organism or not,then the human can die.
Esmeralda had asked too many times where did the child learn such simplicity on complex spells, but was only rewarded by a shrug on a small shoulder and a ghost of a dream called 'Moon Cell'. The mother knew far too much weirdness within her child, and dig not further explanation, for inconspicuous persons are not into detailed answers.
Not a moment that Weiss activated the 'dome', comes the sharp crackle of lighting that entails a huge impact within the invisible wall.
The tell a tale voice of someone complaining from the distance above the crowd gave Weiss the rare occurrence of snorting in the expense of the wizard free falling, with the mother close behind.
"That is anticlimactic, my dear." Esmeralda deadpanned, mirth still vibrating smoothly out of her throat and eyes trained at the falling bodice.
"I was making the moment more…. Epic." The child raises her hands to emphasize, before the sky rain down white mammals and rainbow bubbles of some kind. "See?"
"I did see," the mother agreed non surprise. She quickly retracts herself and her babe to the safe walls, before the pricks of dyed water rain down in the kingdom with a full blast of different stench and mooing explosions. ", and I expect us to stay cleaned still after the night falls. No matter, we are safe within these walls."
"The day's young." The child piped in, nuzzling her face at her mother's throat, pressing her lips in Esmeralda's collarbone. "Don't finish what just begun."
"It is almost noon. And what, pray tell, will happen more drastic than a rain that may immobilize the pursuing flocks?" she whispered, slowly walking to their chamber, enjoying the few and far in between conversation she can normally hushed with her only daughter.
"Dunno…" the child hummed, sleepy. "Explosions?"
A deafening sound near the castle implodes, shaking the floor with quakes.
"Hmm… chickens?" the child mumbled, still listing off, ignoring how her mother paused, unnerved, staring below to see a herd of white poultry chickens running about with colorful beaks and wings.
"..Gender bends?" the babe suggest, blinking innocently at her cradle.
"What!? Who are you!?" a mere soldier bellowed underground.
"I is I! Mortius!" another one- female in pitch- shrieked, lace with quick panics and worry.
"You fool! Mortius is a man! Who would believe you gipsy woman!?"
Esmeralda blinked to see the commotion with her mouth slightly agape. Weiss stared also, far too much in haze to see so far.
"…..Dragon?" Weiss slowly continued, doubt rising in her low tone.
"MMMMEEEEERRRRLLLIIINNNN!" Altria's royal voice booms across the kingdom.
"…..Little dragon?"
"Mama, I saw Dada!"
"Wait, dear one! Please, stop!" the heiress run passed the shocked mother and the almost- asleep daughter, with the queen running in tow, breathing hard and off her limit of energy.
The mother blink once, twice….. and to make sure, she repeats for the third time. She looks down at her little baby, eyelids half- closed in obvious will to make her expression indescribable.
"….. Candies?" the child slowly, very slowly, worded- excitement lacing her voice; her mother awaiting for another ruckus to happen.
Esmeralda tilts her head to the side, asking; "… Candies? What is-!?'
Well, they certainly didn't wait long, as a burst of mana outstretch with complete bizarre churns makes their skin crawl.
The suffocating warm miasma of heat disintegrate bizarre fomations, turning stones into colorful and sticky semi- solid substances with swirling reds, ribbons, blues and canes and white peppered dust which create a far too much sweetness the fairies can endure.
Weiss stared owlishly, tracing the close picture frame to her before leaning into it, licking testily. She nodded and looks at her gob smacked mother with a rare giddy smile, pointing; "Candies."
"….. My darling knew too much." Esmeralda whispered to herself, before she tuck her babe in her bosom- Weiss's arms unquestionable full of sweets she's nipping coming out of nowhere- locating their chambers into the swirls of vivid colors.
Sir Kay is a grouch, not a kind and worrywart of a boy helping human turned chickens finding their homes at the world which seems like a straight up fairy tale from a neverland and wonderland soiled mind of the rogue wizard.
Sir Gaheris- new yet incredibly skilled- is nothing but obedient and courteous to anyone, but with a spell which incapacitate him, there's no actual wonder how the new knight could help them if not for the unfortunate circumstances of his unconsciousness.
Sir Gareth, a lady new to her role, was turned into a slobbering child with a penchant to suckle the mysterious sweets which replace woods, metals and rocks in a variety of soft and edible kind that many of the population is now crashing inside their mouths with eagerness and joviality, their objectives forgotten. However, while her body is of a child, her adult mind was still intact, perfectly capable to follow their lead, even as a distraction for the pervert wizard running about.
Sir Palamedes is intact, if not for an additional appearance of wolf ears sitting comfortable in his head, matching his perplexed expression at the still raining cows exploding upon impact and producing pink and blue streams of small ribbons with materials unique and a burst of powder that seems to induce dose of sleepiness and deep hallucination. Those who survived the sleeping powder- though their colorful hair style says otherwise-, have been working their way on throwing weapons at the running Merlin on the streets, full of sleeping people and running chickens trying to peck his hair in oblivion.
Green.
Pink.
Violet.
Red.
Blue.
White.
The stone heart knight huffs in the atrocious place the Camelot had become, especially the colors so vivid and childlike, unbeknownst to be so perpetually distracting and hurts not just the eyes.
Agravain himself, is no exception to the discord Merlin provide, as he had a pair of arms sticking to his sides- irritatingly creating crude hand signals which he prevents by tying it tightly across his stomach, whilst it tried to escape the binds.
But what is mostly upsetting is Sir Ector, for he is not a grown woman with bigger than biceps and perfectly bulging slabs of meat unfitting for his current gender.
Agravain shuddered. Even a hard steeled man like him would have nightmares just to see the sight of the Old Knight looking far bigger than hostile Amazons of the Mores. He just wished it won't scrape his day to day rest, for he will rip his head clean if that's the kind of torture he will be having.
However, not everyone is fortunate as them, for their eyes are drawn down at the ground; to an ugly blotch of pig with indescribable mane of blonde and…. When does pig can frown and furrowed its brows?
Now apparently, for the pig was Sir Gawain, slump on his hind legs and fury rumbling off of his animal body in waves.
What's more grating for Agravain is the tendency of the pig to shriek and wail and thrust its nose in the air, snorting. He was almost out of his fuel before and he literally threatened the transformed knight to skin him and bury him alive.
It is quite vexing to try, his stone heart sighs. But appealing to implied on jest for morrow.
"Mowded mmmm… Mowded say true," Gareth babbled, giggling as she pet her brother like a child she is now. "Gwainpig… un, Gwapig. Brother, pig!"
The pig snorted, pushing his snout violently at Gareth's tummy, earning a squeak and a loud laughter.
"Galehis mmm… owed me girl. Pay girl for Galeth. I'm told him." Gareth continues, as the great Palamedes roared in joy at the statement upturned.
"Aye ya' lass better be searchin' good for sk'nny fella's out there." Palamedes advices, ruffling her hair.
"Mmhm! Galeth will!"
"What happened to the proud knights we are…" Agravain growled in his breath, turning away. With his mind still sane, he almost not notice the approaching figure at the end of the road- or the scorching hot growl coming from a tall, long blonde buxom woman drape in blue armor with an insignia of the Pendragon family on her lapels and bellowing coat of arms.
…...
….. ?
….. What.
…
!?
Agravain choked his breath in shock; so thus Gawain with his legs failing to stand his weight.
A woman.
Completely like their powerful King.
No.
No.
"Y- your…. Your Majesty?" he gulped down, in a standstill with the blonde woman. He was regarded by a single glare, before he was spared by the pins of wrath behind the gaze, as it seems like he was deep down in a lion's maw and the center of a dragon's fire. His King, yellow eyed and mouth gritting, brows in complete vehemence- unlike her perfect indifference he once knew before she sauntered in their circle with Rhongomyniad and Excalibur in…. a horrendous shape of a…. a disgusting anatomy of a ….
I do not want to finish it. Agravain vowed, blankly avoiding his gaze away to the ugly picture of indecencies.
"Oh, la la!" Gareth squealed. "What sexy, man!"
Neck deep in anger, Altria missed the presence of her queen scathingly breathing with difficulty. Guinevere pulls an arm in her bosom, and hugged it with all her might. Guinevere tiredly nuzzles the tense arm- which slowly slump-, but her tongue is too thick and weary, she knew she will remain immobile for hours on end.
"…. Cub?" the hoarseness in the King's voice resides quietly, regaining her pacifying tone of resignation. She asked still, for the worries that bind her blood to her lovely daughter…. Until she gaze around her wife, and had not found the pup within reach.
Alarmed, she gaze down on her wife's face; worried, scared… no, petrified.
Silence reigned, and the cacophony stops in magnitude.
And those around the royal family did turn a blind eye and run helping one another to escape and persist, Agravain included, not long before he realize what will occur….
As the yellowish demon in the King's eyes came back; and the stubborn hair in her crown came off.
He is home at last, breathing in the sweet and pleasant breeze of roaring grass planes and wet grains. Clenching the reigns of his thoroughbred, Bedivere smiles as he saw the gate secured by soldiers, protecting it with attentiveness and sharp eyes to the horizon. Hoping that his journey would be enough to inspire and attend the ceremony for the King of Camelot, he flick the reigns with a quick flourish, turning the trot into a short burst of run closer to the edge of the gate.
Now, standing at the front of the soldiers, Bedivere grasp the hood of his cloak to greet the militias with his handsome face, even as muck and dust trails can be faintly seen on his skin.
"A pleasant return, dear sir." The soldier whispered her greeting, before whistling up to her partners; opening up the barred gates with a quick flourish of manpower from the walls. Bedivere, returning for a short journey to a confidential place, open his palm to the female soldier, grasping her small hand in his own before greeting her with a traditional kiss similar to what he once did after leaving the walls.
"And a starry evening to celebrate it, no, dear Marie?" he smiled, perfectly appraising as the soldier scoff in amusement, not even wooed by the slightest of his charm.
"Pray that you may not beckon by death from any flying cows and diving prongs and scoundrels." The soldier snorts, walking away from his path. The Knight gave her a hum from his throat, confuse blooming in his face.
It is the King's birth date, is it not? , his thought says. "How astonishing. Is it a new fest of ceremonial meal perhaps?" he asked, which the soldiers flatly exchange glances- unimaginably fooled by his innocence. He might be called the epitome of a great Knight just a step behind Lancelot, but his obliviousness and uneducated social intent skills are that par to the King's.
"Nay, not quite sir Knight." A veteran soldier chuckles nervously, placing a hand on his beard, stroking it. "But I guess the…. Festivities has been quite scantily refurbished for the purpose of… eliminating further perversity."
"Is it? Whom will ruin such day with mere ill- intent?" with Bedivere's doubtful expression, the female- Marie, snorts a laugh and delivers a broad grin to the Knight.
"It does not matter whom, whilst it would be clear as a sun if you put your mind into it. Yet as a humble friend, dear sir, a word of advice might be in accord." she continues, cheerfully. "If the Prey has been seen, the predators will appear. If you will take pity, move out of sight. The scavengers are merciless, since the King himself has ordered this with a deep ire."
"His Majesty?" Bedivere shook his head in mirth, not completely believing them. "No, that would be absurd. His Majesty is aloof to express emotion as a deer. Surely your informant is exaggerating."
"I'm afraid he is not." Marie hid a smirk, shrugging her shoulders. "But I reckon I'm underestimating soaring cows as a basis for the day. Anyway, the road is yours. Calamity awaits."
He left quickly after such weird banter frolicking unto his back. As he dissipates the words out of concern, giving no chance for the advice of the soldier to bloom further, comes a trek on the streets to the outskirts of the kingdom. And there, he strode with his horse, appearing at the other side of the castle, and viewing the wonderful glory of Came-
Bedivere inhaled in confusion, touching his face as a small pink droplet slid past his lid.
…. -lot?
The land and huts are not what he is used to. And what's more unnerving is the disconcerting facts of unique colors lighting up like a fireflies even better than torches and candles. He willed his eyes to see wide and gave an ominous shudder at the landscapes he was greeted at.
I am tired, and tis but an illusion created by my mind.
Yet, expected by his belief, the people were in cheer, if not for their peculiar manes. Almost the population in the streets is made of few men, chickens, and horses and trolleys combine, creating a flock of traffic for themselves. However, not by far and quite surprised that he did a few double take, each has a weapon within their person, seemingly in a mischievous cheer as they turn the baskets upside down, licking sides of the brightly colored tree branches, scaling rooftops with fragile agility and-
Is that a man lifting ski- waitaminute- Why does men wear skirts!?, he barely contain his voice to shout in retaliation but halted as a man in horrifying gown sweep past his horse and quickly searched his cloak, scurrying mere seconds after.
Perturbed by the turn of events, he shook his head and reason it as his tiresome journey pulling him in jolly vertigo.
I have underestimated my limits. Mayhap, a quick visit in a brother's inn won't hurt.
He laughed and laughed in his heart's content even if he's still running for his life across all alley of Camelot, and few fowl of chickens pecking cuts and twisting painful scratches in his mane. Moreover, the dreamed he had upon since he was given shelter by the great Father of late King Uther had been given time to remain free beyond the wilderness of his mind.
He had forgotten how happy he was, to be shed off of his authority and acted like a giddy boy he was back from his late childhood.
Dukes and Duchesses? Give them beaks for talking nonsense every moment!
Commoners? A wild color for their robes are much appreciated!
Soldiers? Well, look how beautiful they are in their other form!
Camelot? Too much stones and muck, how about a sweet confectioner snacks for everyone!?
At the very least, Merlin is compelled to be exhausted after his beautiful fabrications of nature. He ceased his antics and the setback for casting charms so much with drawbacks to his exhaustion. The sun would set in its own accord, and the idle chitters of teething living humans are not up for the night life he will subdue!
And just like that, the night befell upon them- and the towering sweet towers brighten like a moth to the darkness, colors alight and creating neon creations and wisp of little glowing dust on air!
All of them stop for a moment, to admire the whole surroundings brightening up like a child's wistful dreams. The brightest colors in their head came alive, and million dreams create a world Merlin makes.
Yet, their wistful glances are fleeting, renewed and fumbling with their lances with a new fire in their eyes.
He fled the grasp of few genders alternated, using their slick colored hairs to grow and bind their owner and blinding the morphed humans into chickens for a few tactics of misdirection from simple illusion.
And without so much of a thought, he skids right into the deserted dessert street-!?
"Ah!"
"Umph!"
Until, yet again, he was stopped by a small obstacle on the way.
Damn barnacles and discombobulated nuisance! Merlin growled, lungs ready to explode in excursion, picking the yellow and red blob of pest to glare at the wide vivid green set of eyes.
"YOU!" Merlin cackled, voice dry, heart clopping painfully in his ears, creating a headlock and bringing down a fist in the blonde head to twist in aggravation.
"WhOuch! Stop noogies!" Mordred flail, whimpering as his fist won't stop its painful ministration.
"You!... It was…. because of you…. This…. day has been…. Dedicated…. to me! To HUNT me!"
"I didn't-!" Mordred came to complain, but was absolutely squashed by the sweaty wizard giggling in his bated breathe.
"Ahe…. Hah… hehe… Ugh.. heh- ooh, my chest hurts!-….. You… you brat…. thank you…" Merlin laughs, inhaling as much as he can with the babe in his front. "My…. anger subsides….. and for many years…. I forgotten… how… beautiful…. is my life." He continued, looking at the imped child. Gulping down his bile, he straightens to ruffle the blonde hair again.
"Thank you, squirt. Intentional or not, this day would have been dull like the rest of the years I had."
"I told yah' I didn't do anything, you goatie!" Mordred sniffs and blanches, pushing the soak chest with no effort. "And you stink! Mama will get angry I might smell skunk like you!"
"Hah! Then deal with my misery, I need you to cleanse my name." he implied, dusting his self off and carrying the whining child like a sack of potatoes.
And with his feet making in a familiar red street, he was met with lovely womenfolk parading in the sidewalks in complete obliviousness. He drew a breathless laughs from his reserves and should have yelled in merriment when he really take a closer look.
They are women, yes….. but the horror- their arms are packed with muscles bigger than mine! Merlin gawked in astonishment, trailing their bodice in brief moment before he fled the sight, pushing the child off his shoulders and kneeling at a chocolate fountain, vomiting his non- existent meal.
Mordred winced in pain, eyes brimming with unshed tears as she cradle the throbbing shoulder she had landed. Quietly rubbing her face with her sleeve, and disturbed from crying, she quickly looked upon the figure who place a warm hand in her head.
Yellow eyes stared at her warmly, before it ascends… slowly, so painstakingly slow…. Into the groveling wizard.
Altria smiled, and Merlin shivered in its wake.
"D- dada?" Mordred whispered in panic, as the debatable girth ugly looking Excalibur sets a dangerous malevolent aura, bathing the surrounding with dread.
Altria regards her with a pat on her tussled head, before the King giggled, humming a song for the dead.
"Oh, Merlin~"
The barren inn twisted as a small white carousel seems peacefully out of havoc from the noises and thumps of feet outside the small shower of rain. Half petrified at the desolate tables full of half- consumed ales and tiny knacks for the horde of commoner, and half- thankful to seemly sees the owner at the corner of the bar; Bedivere unnervingly organize his pelt of bags and sword beside his rickety chair, shrugging his soiled cloak in respect to the old lady setting down his favorite ale.
Though he would like to ask what happen to his brother in arms maintaining the guild in respectable order.
Bedivere downed his drink in quick succession, head rolling from side to side to ease the treasonous tension in his nape.
He would have asked what on God's name occurred while he is away- but he was swerve in his inquiry as a mad dash of horde run passed the inn.
He gave chase on with a confuse stare, and is quite miff when he spotted his fellow Knights accompanying them.
Not too long, he grew indifferent and took a hold of his mug, carefully placing it on his li-
"HAVE MEEEERRRRCCCCCYYYY!"
He jerks in surprise, turning here and there.
The pregnant pause is so deafening, Bedivere could only blink for a moment before a massive beam deteriorates his mind, blacking out for a mere seconds just so he can hear a shrill cry of a girl with white hair coming within the powerful mass.
He woke up the next day sitting abruptly, in to a soft hay of bed, whispering;
"What a weird dream."
He pats his chest in peace and hummed as the mounds there bounce in his antics.
He sighs. He thought he is living in a horrendous mind of a wicked fellow, making him a grown woman.
…..
….. Hold up.
…. Mounds?
Wait.
….
"What."
Guinevere simply gazes at her husband, taking her and Mordred into the moors outside their kingdom, with a shine in the King's face never seen before.
"Dear?"
"Hm?"
"Are you certain we are expected to live in the moors for three moons?"
"Of course, Gwen."
"Alright…" the queen paused. "….. dear?"
"Hm?"
"….. What happened yesterday?"
"I do not know what you are talking about." Altria states with a shimmer in her eyes.
"Your birthday? Yesterday?"
"Ah." A wicked smile.
Mordred tactically avoid being questioned, sweating bullets all over her face.
"Dear?"
"Let's just say…" the King chuckles *darkly*, "…., it passed by like a wasp with a fire in its tail."
Merlin sobs, as his remaining reserves of magic was depleted by turning everything back the way it once since the beginning before the midnight breeze starts to take toll.
His wounds- severe- was left in the open until he return the Camelot in its full glory, wiping every single piece of memories in every person he had casted, turning the day's events a mysterious phantom that will left many to wonder what occurs.
But one thing's for sure…
"Lord…" Merlin whimpered, staring at his buttocks, the Excalibur pierced in between heaven and earth ", let this be a lesson. Women are a force of nature."
Mordred tug her Dada's arm, catching the patriarch attention with her innocent look.
"Dada?"
"Hn?"
"What you did to Emrys… Is that what you said before?"
"You have to elaborate, cub."
"That thing you called, 'foolish mongrels with straight sticks deep in their big asses'?"
Altria gulped, as the queen spits the wine she was having.
"What!?" Guinevere roared.
Author's Note: Hello~! Miss me!? Yeah, tough luck, you probably hate me. Anyway, thanks for the likes and views continuously exceeding 23, ooo views guys.
I'll probably need to clarify lot of things on this chapter, huh?
Okay, what does Camelot look like when Merlin let his imagination? It looks like Canterlot in my little ponies.
Where falling cows did came from? Minecraft.
Ugly looking Excalibur? Chibi Arturia in F/ GO.
Confetti? Totally Pinkie Pie fan.
Bedivere's mounds? Pfft, can you guess?
Wellll, have you seen any easter eggs? Comment if you did!
