I threw up for another ten minutes.
My splitting headache disappeared but I hugged the porcelain throne called a toilet for a few more minutes in case the messy aftereffects of having the memories of another person forcibly injected in me returned with a vengeance.
Goodness. What in the world was that?
My mind swirled as information and memories arranged themselves inside my head. I tried to grasp one piece of information.
My mind got overwhelmed by the sheer volume of knowledge and I let loose another flash flood of nastiness out of my mouth.
After making sure that my stomach had calmed down, I staggered over to the basin and splashed cool water on my face. After that, I looked at myself in the mirror.
An almost feminine face with scarlet eyes that glittered like rubies looked back at me.
I touched my face and stroked my messy snow-white hair to make sure what I was seeing was real and sure enough, the boy in the mirror mimicked my action.
I took a deep breath to calm myself down and looked at my previously injured hand. Somehow it healed and the fair skin looks like I never smashed my alarm clock in the first place.
My right hand was covered in a white silken glove. I removed it and I raised my eyebrows in mild surprise.
Ah. This is interesting.
I put the glove back on and looked at my new face in the mirror.
The memories and new information settled in my mind and I slowly picked them up. I took a deep breath and tried to figure out my situation.
Let's recap. Shall we?
I am Sir Mordred, the Treacherous Knight and the bastard child of King Arthur Pendragon. I died in the battle of Camlann and woke up in the body of...
Myself?
According to the memories that invaded my brain some twenty minutes ago, this body belonged to Mordred Pendragon, the son of Arthur Pendragon and Queen Morgause.
But things are different. Very different.
So different that my noggin is starting to spin already and I can feel something rise from my stomach. I shook my head.
Focus.
My father, Arthur Pendragon is the High King of the largest continent in this world.
No surprise there.
And my mother Morgause thankfully was not my father's half-sister. She was the King's second wife along with Guinevere.
I am just glad I am not the product of incest.
Hm. Incest. Quite an interesting word.
Anyway.
Arthur had two kids with Guinevere and two with Morgause. So four children in total.
The oldest is Morgan.
Yes. The Morgan Le Fay. The villainous sister of King Arthur and my aunt in my previous life is now my elder sister by five years. She is the daughter of Guinevere.
The second child is Gawain who is the oldest child of Morgause. So my half-brother from my previous life is now my actual brother.
The third child is Elaine whose mother is Guinevere and is the same age as me. In my past life, she used to be King Arthur's sister.
Weird? Yeah, I feel the same.
And finally, there's Mordred, whose body I just woke up in. He was born a week after Elaine and unfortunately, Morgause passed away after giving birth to him.
Just my luck.
In this world, King Arthur doesn't like me.
I sighed. Is it a fundamental law for King Arthur to dislike Mordred no matter the world?
But it is not because his wife died giving birth to me but because Mordred was weak. Very weak.
Compared to his monstrously talented siblings, Mordred was like a weak street dog.
A good-looking street dog.
But in a world where the strong and cunning reign supreme, a weak prince is an absolute failure.
So he had a rough childhood. He was ignored by his father and eldest sister, and picked on by Elaine and her friends. Even his servants made his life hard.
The only ones who were good to him were his brother Gawain and Queen Guinevere.
The First Queen and Morgause were great friends and rivals. So when Morgause died, Guinevere decided to take care of her friend's sons.
She is a wonderful woman who cares for Gawain and Mordred.
Despite getting frequent warnings from the King, she secretly visits Mordred and brings him small gifts. She comforted him, chastised him if he caused trouble, and even scolded Elaine for bullying him.
Not that it had any effect.
Perhaps it was because of how he was treated, the old Mordred was pitiful. He was a comical coward and was the epitome of failure.
I sighed.
Yeesh. How embarrassing.
Arthur never really paid attention to him. It was as if Mordred Pendragon never existed in his eyes.
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
That was, until a week ago.
During a grand banquet, thirteen-year-old Mordred beat up the heirs of three duchies under the High King.
Arthur himself took action and had Mordred put under house arrest until he resolved the situation with the rather angry dukes.
Things couldn't get any worse. Right?
Haha. This is Mordred Pendragon we're talking about. So of course things got worse.
Way worse.
Two days ago, Mordred had a very high fever and nobody came to his aid.
Gawain, a frequent visitor was away for a mission from the king. Guinevere and Elaine were ordered to not visit him during his house arrest.
The illness came at the worst possible time. The servants dismissed it as a small cold and didn't even inform the main palace.
They didn't even bother to check his temperature or provide him with any medicine.
He probably succumbed to it today and that's when I came into the picture.
His final moments were pure agony as the mysterious illness ravaged his body and mind.
He died cursing his life, the world, and everything.
A horrible way to die.
It appears that I woke up sometime after he died. And I woke up at a rather tricky time because today was the day the High King would give me my punishment.
Harming an heir to a duchy is a serious offense that can even be punishable by death. Not even the child of the High King is immune to punishment
And Mordred beat up three of them.
Yeah. Things are not at all looking good for me.
I sighed. I wonder if I should travel the same path of the villainy of my past life.
I shook my head. I have already had my revenge.
So what should I do from now on?
Well. Try not to die for the moment.
But how do I do it?
I wracked my brain for a solution. According to Mordred's memories, I beat up the three heirs so much that they almost died.
Such an offense would automatically result in harsh punishment, maybe even death by execution. But my father is the High King. Surely he will not execute his son?
Right?
But I am technically not a likable son at the moment. Soooo.
I sighed. Looks like I should start begging for my life. I don't care about my pride as a knight of the Round Table.
What good is pride when you are dead?
Plus. The previous Mordred was very good at begging on his knees like the pitiful dog he was.
I exited the bathroom and got dressed in my best outfit for meeting the High King and begging for his mercy.
A black sleeveless turtleneck, a white jacket with red accents, white pants, and white boots.
My. Mordred likes the color white.
But damn, I look really fine. I couldn't help but admire my beauty. Sure, I am quite thin and small for my age but I look pretty dashing.
As I was making some cool poses in front of the mirror, someone knocked on my door.
I quickly stopped what I was doing and without asking who it was I blurted out, "Come in."
The door opened and a wave of power washed over me. My eyes widened. This is quite familiar. It reminds me of my aunt.
Although I had never met him in my past life, I have heard stories of this person's power. It was similar to the power Morgan Le Fay wielded in my past life.
After all, she learned magic from this person.
The legendary grand wizard Merlin stood in front of me. But there is something wrong.
Very wrong.
Standing in the doorway was a girl.
She looked about four years older than me but I bet my Clarent that she is much older than her appearance. She is of average height and annoyingly taller than me.
Her waist-length white hair faded to light pink at the ends and her pinkish-white bangs were swept to the side
Her skin was as fair as snow and she wore a sky-blue jacket over a white shirt and jeans that complimented her petite figure underneath a silvery grey high-collared cloak that looked like it had a life of its own.
Her choice of footwear was strange as she had a black leather boot with white designs on her right foot and a white boot with black designs on her left foot.
But her most incredible features are her eyes.
Her eyes are like a kaleidoscope, shifting between many colors and they glowed with power.
One could look at her eyes and be lost in them for hours, figuring out which shimmering color would appear next.
She is a truly beautiful girl but I can feel that underneath that doll-like face is a being of immense power.
Perhaps even more powerful than the Merlin of my previous life.
I know I shouldn't but my mouth moved before I could even think about it.
"Merlin. You're a girl."
Maybe the girl standing in front of me is a disguise? That old wizard loved moving around in disguise.
Merlin narrowed her eyes and frowned, "What kind of a question is that? Of course, I am a girl. Do you want me to prove it to you?", she spoke as she shrugged off her jacket, and unbuttoned her shirt.
A tempting offer but...
"Nope! I'm sorry I asked that!", I waved my hands. My new memories of her confirm that Merlin is truly a girl, and a truly beautiful one as well.
One thing I can vividly remember is that she is quite shameless. The many times she barged into the common hot springs while I was using them are etched into my memories.
She is quite an interesting person.
Unlike most people who ignore or harass Mordred. Merlin remains neutral.
She talks to him but is not overly friendly. Now that I realized, whenever she talked to Mordred, her eyes were filled with pity and guilt.
I have a vague idea of why.
There's a possibility that everything that happened in Mordred's life, the ignorance from his father and sister, the bullying from Elaine and the servants to my current situation...
All of them were caused by her.
I should confront Merlin about that. But now...
"What is it?", I asked, "Has His Majesty decided my punishment?"
Merlin was a little surprised by my tone but she quickly dismissed it, "Yes. And I am here to deliver Arthur's message."
"He didn't want to tell it to me himself?"
She sighed, "You know how things are between the two of you."
"Yeah. I understand.", I agreed with her.
Merlin frowned, "You are awfully calm. Usually, you would kick up a fuss during these situations. Did you eat something funny?"
"Well. There is a thing called maturity."
"Huh.", she looked suspicious but shrugged and took out a letter and gave it to me, "To be honest. I feel bad for you, Mordred."
I looked at the letter with the official seal of the Pendragons stamped into it.
Even in this age of technology and faster communication, the High King still uses letters as a form of communication in the royal palace.
I tell you. That guy is weird.
Well. I came from an age where the most advanced technology was the humble windmill. So I guess I have no right to call him weird.
I opened the letter and read its contents. I blinked and read it again and again. This has to be a mistake. My whole body went numb.
I did not receive the death penalty.
But I received something much much worse.
I looked at Merlin with wide eyes. My voice trembled.
"This has to be a joke. Right?"