Mary Collins never ran as hard as she did now. It was difficult for her to run because of her worn out muscles, but she didn't care at all.
Why was her son in this position? What has he ever done against Camelot for the king to do this to him?
At this rate, she would never make it on time. There was only one other option, magic.
That's what got her son here in the first place. Magic.
"Mom, mom! Can you show me that again?"
"Yes my dear! Here." She whispered a spell in her closed fist. When she opened her hands, a butterfly came out and fluttered around the young boy's head.
"Mom, that's incredible! Can you teach me how to do that?"
She laughed and looked upon her precious child lovingly.
"I can only try my best."
Tears ran down the mother's cheeks as she tried to run even faster. There was no way she was going to save him, not in this condition.
She abruptly stopped and shouted in the Old Religion and lightning struck her. She closed her eyes, hoping that she wasn't too late. She was trying hard to keep the memories back, but they just kept flowing.
"Please don't go out there on your own! You might get caught!"
"Mom, I'll be fine! I can protect myself."
"But I don't want you to be hurt! At least bring the book of magic, it can help you on your journey."
She opened her eyes, but she knew it was too late.
Her son was beheaded.
She looked up at the pillar where the king watched everything in pride.
She wanted revenge, revenge on the man who killed her only son: Uther Pendragon.