The Once and Future King.
Some men are born to plow fields, some to be great physicians, others to be great kings. Me? I was born to serve you – And I'm proud of that. I wouldn't change a thing.
I can still remember our first greeting. Your arrogance besieged me and I was idiotic enough to question it. It makes me smile thinking back on it. "Who do you think you are, the king?" I spat in a high state of 'excellency.' How foolish one timid boy such as myself could be! You grabbed my weak arms and threw me to the ground. It was unnecessary indeed, but then your remark followed as if I was cursed. "No, I'm his son – Arthur!" The crowed surrounding us gasped in complete horror to what I had done. Embarrassing is the only reasonable word that could fit the situation. Maybe I thought I was tough, or perhaps strong minded? Who knows? It feels like a thousand years ago. But without the fight, without the humiliation, without your arrogance – we would not be the same men of whom we are today.
Twisted fates and an evil destiny. Not many people could possibly understand what I had been through day in, day out. Many great minds had told me the same phrase. "You are but two sides of the same coin." And honestly, it made no sense to me. It was simply complete dribble slipping though my pathetic substance of a brain. And that's just it. I was always one step behind, too slow to react in the highest of situations, too weak to save the kingdom. Look at me. What do I have because of it? Nothing, except the painful memories. It's too late to kick myself, or try and put things somewhat right. For what I put you through, karma is the kindest thing for me.
It's been cold recently. Personally, I never enjoyed camping out. You always used to call me girl! Now, I could never comprehend how much I would desire a tiny drop of mindless banter between us.
At least I have a small fire to keep me substantially warm. Finding the correct wood was a trial in itself! The icy rain dampens my chances of starring into an orange blaze most nights.
Orange – just like the colour of those bright eyes. You only ever knew him as a destroyer of kingdoms and a beast of magic. But I knew him as Kilgharrah, the best of many councillors in my life. Where would I be without his help? I can't bring myself to think about it. Those deep compassionate words would shake my body and rumble in the deepest of my soul. "Heed my words Merlin." He would aimlessly repeat. The realization would hit me why people portrayed him as 'The Great Dragon." They weren't wrong. Battles, sieges, magical traits. Kilgharrah was there, fighting for Camelot, fighting for you. I'm sorry you were never enlightened to his wonderful doings. Yet another, foolish incident I have caused.
I want you to know the truth. Although you have taught me strength, courage and compassion. I can't cope. It's not something to be proud of. Every day I have to live the fact that I have led a good heart to die young. My gut wrenches and tugs on any minuscule amount of happiness let in my remorseful soul. "No man is worth your tears." You used to stress. Every teardrop feels like a waterfall. But you're not just any man Arthur. You are the Once and Future King of Camelot. So many lives have been changed for good things, and never, have I witnessed such an inspirational being such as you. What you brought to the kingdom will forever live long in your name.
Causing so much devastation tears me apart from head to toe. Everything that is wrong with this world is of my doing. The people have lost a great leader and a king. They are grieving and weeping because of me. I can't even bring myself to return to Camelot. Imagine the violent threats and barring teeth that awaits me there. No, the people I once loved are now my poachers. There's nothing left more me in Camelot.
It's time to move ahead. The path I face is unknown and terrifying. You have taught me many vital survival skills, now they must be put to use. If only you were here to guide me through the darkest hours. I'm scared Arthur. I want you here. I need you.
As soon as the blade plunged into your soul, every small amount of hope ran as fast as it could from the awful atmosphere of your last battle. I wish, I could only dream of just a few more minutes to help you reach the Isle Of The Blessed. You'd still be with me here. I'm sorry I caused this. I'm sorry that I failed you. Because of your death, I can no longer live with myself. The world hates me. So what is the point of wasting any more precious air? There isn't.
I am the son of the earth and son of magic itself. Yet, the Old Religion has let me down once again. The shear pain of your death twangs on my loose nerves, sharp dread attacks my body. Magic is to blame – I am to blame.
Forgive me Arthur. I am not an enemy. I have tried my absolute best to save you. I didn't want you to die. You were my only true friend – and now I have lost you for good. I can't be alone anymore. This is the end.
The story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men.
I am just a servant, no more, no less.
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