“So,” Merlin said as he shut the door to his study and turned to his former apprentice, “What did you see when you cast the diagnosis spell?”
Merlin stared at Morgana’s expression. She was pale. Her usually smooth face had wrinkled at the corner of her eyes and at her forehead. Her eyes held a storm of emotions - worry, anger, uncertainty. She took a deep breath.
“It’s the curse,” Morgana replied, “It has been ravaging his lungs for a while from what it looks like. His left lung has been completely taken over by the Curse while his right is being taken over.” She started to pace as Merlin walked over to the desk and sat down in his chair, allowing Morgana to vent, “I knew I should have push the issue when I had noticed that annoying cough he has.”
“It’s too late, now,” Merlin stated. He eyed Morgana. He knew that she felt it was apart of her fault that the King’s health had degrade as far as it did. They usually were more alert about the curse’s progression, but they didn’t have to deal with the curse for the last 35 years. The last four Kings were slain in battle.
Merlin’s mind drifted to the battles in question. King Luke and King Thomas had ordered Merlin and Morgana to stay at Camelot. Neither believed the magi had magical abilities, but the General of King Thomas’ army did. She was unique to the time, compared to the other women of the era of King Thomas and Queen Belladonna’s regin. She had led the army into battle and led the army back to Camelot, after temporary taking over as the result of King Thomas’ death until she brought the army home with the King’s body. He remembered how she stood there as Queen Belladonna roared and threaten the General until the Queen lost the energy to do so and the General ‘retired’, disappearing. He wondered what happened to her.
King Micheal, Uther’s father, was able to pull the Holy Sword out of its sheath after his father’s death so announcing a choosing was not a option. King Micheal has lived until his 8th year of ruling when he fell ill with an illness that Merlin or Morgana had not seen and didn’t know how to treat, but the Assassin recognized the illness as small pox and the only problem they ran into was curing it. She claimed the Outside World had the cure, but the spell Merlin and Morgana cast so many years ago, had a quota. The last time Merlin knew the quota was 1000 new people per year.
Merlin had design the spell in a way it prevented majority of the bloodlines of the first Court of Camelot to leave the world the magi had copied until the spell was broke by the same person Morgana saw in her first fire vision after Arthur I’s death. However, the spell also acted as an immigration buffer, limiting how many people that came to this hidden world or the non-natives leaving either by accident or on purpose like the General and the Assassin.
“Merlin?” Morgana’s voice cut through his thoughts. He blinked, coming back to the problem at hand. Uther had been affected by Rowena’s Curse for the last - how long, again?
“How long do you think Uther has been suffering from the curse?” Merlin asked, looking up from the desk where his gaze had fell to. Morgana let out a sigh. Her bows furrowed together as she thought. He spotted wrinkles appeared around her stressed, thoughtful eyes.
“Maybe four to five months,” she finally spoke, “Given the evidence how far the curse had progress.” She paused, “Give or take a couple weeks.”
Merlin let out a harsh breath. From the previous times that a King had survived to the 10 year limit, the curse ran its course in a total of 6 months minimum to 10 months max. He let out a soft curse. He turned to to the potion brewing silently. There was nothing they could do.
Morgana spoke, “Given what I saw, he might have live another week or two.” She let a small chuckle, “He might surprise us and live another month.”
Merlin felt a small amused smile pull at his lips, “Let’s hope he will surprise us.” He stood up and went over to the bookcase. He ran a finger over the spines of the spell books. “We still need to do a few tests.”
There was still much they didn’t know about the curse, how it started, and what causes the death of the cursed person. Rowena was an intelligent woman when she was alive, but she complained that she was born in the wrong time, claiming she knew she was meant for more then the constricting life-style of a woman of the Court, and she thought she should have be the ruler instead of King Arthur. She went down a dark road, eventually coming up with the curse. Still, after roughly 1500 years, Merlin and Morgana couldn’t figure out how to break the curse. Every time, they got the hint of the curse, they immediately started the document of the how the curse progress and all the signs of the curse.
“Yeah.” Morgana agreed. The next part was always the hardest - informing the Ruling family of the curse, swearing them to secrecy, and talking about the chance of the heir becoming King or preparing for the worst, the Holy Sword choosing someone else becoming King. That would be the icing on the cake for Queen Belladonna. She hated anything to do with magic and going against traditions. “Do we still run the tests?” she asked, giving Merlin a questioning look.
“Yes, might as well,” Merlin replied, “We might have found something new.” He pulled a book off the solid oak bookcase and noted it was the correct book he was looking for. He turned to Morgana. “Shall we?” he offered his arm to her.
“We’ll have to swing by my study to grab some of my testing equipment,” she said. Merlin nodded.
“Excuse me?” Queen Belladonna growled. Her eyes flashed with anger. She took a step forward to Merlin. “What do you mean ‘There is nothing you can do’, Mage?” Her fingers twitched. “Explain yourselves.”
Merlin stood his ground, glad that she was not holding her sword. Merlin and Morgana knew this conversation was not easy for the family. He repeated, “There is nothing we can do. Why? This curse, as far as we know, there is no counter course. We have looked and researched.” He let out a sigh. He glanced around the room. “Every time, the curse became activate, we tried our damnest to cure the King.”
Morgana remembered what the Ruling Family was feeling. She had to go through it herself once upon a time ago when her half-brother, Arthur, the King of the United Kingdoms of Camelot, fell ill from the curse. Queen Vivian sat at the small round table. Pale, she glared at the magi. She held a tea cup in one hand, shaking. Her other hand clenched at the skirt of her dress.
Queen Clarine, sitting by the huge bed, held a handkerchief up to her face, quietly sobbing. She looked up when Merlin stopped speaking. In an uneven voice that hinted at the emotional turmoil she was going through, she spoke, “Perhaps, you need to start from the beginning, Mage Merlin.”
“I think that is would be best,” Morgana started, “As you know, I am the daughter of the first King of Camelot, King Uther, the First of his name, Lord of House Pendragon and now, one of the living descendant of that bloodline.” Morgana paused, “What Merlin says is true. A woman - another mage - named Rowena wanted to rule over Camelot, but Merlin casted a temporary spell on the Holy Sword that only allowed Arthur, one of my half-brothers, Uther’s true heir, the Crowned Prince of Camelot, to pull the sword of the granite rock that Merlin had placed it in.” Morgana glanced at Merlin.
“Rowena did try to pull the sword from the rock, but the sword denied her the Right to Rule. So, she swore she will get her revenge. She went into hiding and gathered allies before she attacked the Kingdom at its heart. During the final battle, she gathered enough power to cast a powerful curse on the Holy Sword - Who ever pulled the sword from its resting place in the granite rock will be cursed to live a shorten life before dying.” She paused. She glanced at the King resting in the bed who looked at her with narrowed eyes, but she didn’t see him. She saw her Arthur, laying there, sick from the curse and the knowledgeable glint in his eyes. He knew he was going to die.
Morgana’s breath caught in her throat before she forced it out. Tears welled up, blurring her vision. She turned away, hiding her reaction. She took a shaky breath. She shallowed the lump in her throat protested. Her chest ached. After all this time, thinking of her half-brother’s death still effected her. She shook her head, closing her eyes. She turned back to the current king.
She continued the story, “We didn’t know until a few months before the 10th Anniversary of the Battle that there was a curse and we were forced to watch as my brother steadily became sicker and sicker until he died.” A tear slipped down her cheek at the realization of her brother was dying and the echo of the helpless knowing there was nothing she could do about it. “Before he died, he requested Merlin to put the same spell he used to allow Arthur to be the only one who drew the sword back on the Holy Sword.”
“Why?” Prince Arthur asked.
“The boy his Queen gave birth to,” Merlin started, taking over, “were not his. The Queen had another lover. We didn’t know until Arthur- King Arthur told us in secret.” He remembered that conversation and who else was the room with the same name, “There were many reasons why he requested this of us,” He summarized, “But he wanted more was to protect his people, including his Queen, her lover, and her child.”
A gasp echoed through the room. They knew what that meant that not only the Queen was unfaithful to her king and husband, but there was a good chance the Pendragon bloodline died out with King Arthur. King Arthur saw to that no one in his blood-related family got to the throne of Camelot and left the throne uninsured by an heir.
Stolen story; please report.
“That is correct,” Morgana backed up her former master, “So, there was no heir of Arthur - my apologies, King Arthur - and that left the throne wide open for anyone to take, but on the final orders of the King Arthur, Merlin and I, together, casted the spell to choose the next king.” Her eyes roamed over the Ruling Family, allowing what she had said to seek in. “There is a good chance that Prince Arthur could be the next king of Camelot or won’t be. It all depends on the Holy Sword. We have no say in this matter.”
Arthur, the tenth of his name, sat down on the nearby chair, heavily. He may not be the next King? A cocktail of uncertainty, fear, frustration, hopelessness, and anger swirled in him as he wondered about his future. His father, his grandfather, and his great grandfather, as well as his two great Uncles ruled Camelot. He had been raised to think, believe, and act like he was going to be the next king without question. Now, there was a chance he won’t be. He didn’t know what to think.
What if he was not chosen as the next king? He won’t know what to do. Taking the throne was all he was ever taught and thought about. He glanced up. His grandmother, Grandma Clarine looked upset while Nana Bella had a dark furious expression on her face as she glared at Merlin and Morgana. Grandmother Vivi looked like she had heard of the legend before. Maybe the magi were right.
His eyes darted over to his father. He laid in the King’s bed and glared at the magi before Arthur saw his gaze fall onto him. Arthur recognized the familiar words in his father’s eyes that the man didn’t voice.
You better not disappoint me, boy.
You are a Prince, act like it.
You will pull the Holy Sword out of the sheath.
You will take the Throne after my death.
Arthur looked away. He knew his father’s feelings about this matter. He eyed the floor between his feet.
Most of the time, he didn’t feel like a future king. He longed for adventure, to get away from the tedious courts, and experience half of the quests that the other knights went on. Just this morning, Lancelot had returned from a short quest of helping a local lord with some of the non-humans groups that had been causing trouble and had been telling Arthur his adventure when the call of Court went out. He often wondered how it would feel like to be recognized as a hero and a knight instead of the Prince. Before he could go deeper into his imagery adventure, Nana Bella’s voice rang out. Arthur looked up, sharply at his Nana.
Queen Vivian felt a spark of familiarity with what the Lady Mage said. She remembered when her own husband had spoke to her about the Legend of the Holy Sword. He had talked about being chosen by the Holy Sword. He had walked up to the Sword when it was his turn and he simply pulled the sword out of the granite rock. He had been a simple fourth son who had no future of being a Lord, or a Knight. It was the last chance he had before he was shipped off to the Church to become a clergyman.
At first, Vivian thought that Micheal was just pulling a prank and thought nothing of it until she met his family. After meeting his family at his father’s simple holdings, she realized Micheal was telling the truth. It took a while to used to the idea that her in-laws were a simple Lord from a far portion of the Kingdom, but she eventually accepted it. Once in a while, she would see one of her nieces or nephews from Micheal’s side of the family, who visited Court.
However, her only child, Luke, did not know the truth of his father’s heritage. It never came up. Not even when he took Belladonna as his wife. Not even he was chosen as King to follow his father’s footsteps. Not once in her Luke’s life. Her daughter-in-law spoke up in a tone Vivian was familiar with and silently groaned. She knew what Belladonna would say will only upset the magi and the other queens.
Queen Belladonna snorted, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe the nerve of the two magi. They thought they could away with not helping her grandson. Not when they didn’t lift a finger to help her three sons when they had became King and died on the battlefield. They thought wrong. They had got away from not helping the people without magic for too long. It was pathetic how they refuse to help Uther.
When Belladonna married Luke, she put up with the Magi, knowing they would be gone soon. After she noticed that they didn’t age, looking young as the day she first saw them as she aged, she went looking through the old achieve of her family and figured out the rumors of the two Magi being the original two magi from King Arthur’s time, she knew she would have to play the game carefully. It was not until she had managed to put in place laws about majority of the magic to limited to court approved wielders and denied each and every request before placing a bounty of their head. Majority of the magic users either disappeared, enslaved, or killed, to much of Belladonna’s delight. The magic Merlin and Morgana wielded was old and false. She refused to believe they had any true power.
Their denial of helping Uther was enough proof for Belladonna to throw them into the dungeons to rot for the rest of their unnatural lives. She narrowed her eyes. Now, that was a thought. She growled out her response to the situation at hand.
Queen Clarine looked sadly at her son, laying in the King’s bed. A tear slipped down her cheek and she automatically brought up her handkerchief, patting at the rebellious tears. She knew there was something off when she was younger around 15, she remembered how King Luke suddenly became king. William the fifth, the king before King Micheal, did not have any children from his marriage with Queen Lilian. May their soul rest in peace.
When she, first, came to the Castle from her Lord Father’s house, Queen Lilian had made sure that she was comfortable settled in. They used to talk into the night about King William and King Thomas, how science had come long since Queen Lilian’s early days, and what the future could bring. However, there were times when the two Queens had talked about the Magi and Lilian had explained that the unknown fact about the Holy Sword, claiming that Clarine needed to know since she was the High Queen.
Clarine wished her old friend, Lilian, was still alive to ask her opinion about what was happening. She knew Lilian would have a good laugh of watching Belladonna’s expression. Lilian never did like Belladonna. The woman thought Belladonna was a hypocrite, willing to go into battle, but refused to let other woman into the military, and how Belladonna preached about keeping to tradition like they were the word from the Lord most high. However, Lilian would never criticized Belladonna in public, often saying any internal family problems need to remain within the family, not aired out like dirty laundry. Belladonna, on the other hand, had no problem, criticized others in public.
However, her thoughts about the situation was interrupted as Belladonna made her opinion known.
Queen Kalliope sat beside her King and husband, holding his hand. She looked down at the comforter. She knew she should be in mourning because she was losing her husband, but at the same time, she couldn’t fight the sense of freedom that loomed. She was Uther’s second wife. Queen Melissa held his heart, but she died in a mysterious attack when Arthur was only 5. Uther only married her to help raise Arthur and for her to act like his mother.
Kalliope didn’t love Uther like a wife should love her husband. The kind of love she held was more a love shared between two friends that knew one another for a long time. Her heart belonged to another. She barely said his name, even in public, in fear of someone finding and reporting it to Uther.
She knew Uther would have her heart’s desire on a long, suicidal quest if he managed to find out. He did something similar to her Uncle when he found out that her Uncle tried to sneak into Princess Rosemary’s chambers. As a result, Kalliope’s uncle was thrown in the dungeons and left there. As far as she knew, he was still down there.
When Kalliope’s mother approached her about the marriage to the King, Kalliope fought tooth and nail until her mother made the comment, trying to get her Uncle out of the dungeons, that was when Kalliope had grown to Uther, as a close friend. However, when it comes to the issue of her Uncle, Uther wouldn’t even allow her to see him.
She glanced up at the two magi. She couldn’t believe that Arthur had a chance that he wouldn’t be King. Arthur used to asked her if she thought he would have been a good king, she personally thought he would be. Now, that chance was going to be ripped away from him. She hoped he would be able to pull the Holy Sword out of the sheath. Kalliope was jerked out of her thoughts when Belladonna spoke up.
“That is the most utter bullshit I ever heard,” Belladonna snapped, anger lacing her voice, “A spell that dictates the next king is the most bullshit I heard that spurred from your lying lips.” She placed her hands on her hips and glared at the two magi.
Merlin knew Belladonna didn’t like Morgana nor him. She never made it a secret. The countless times she had threaten to throw them in the dungeons when she was the High Queen because Morgana or him would try to help the non-humans out of the execution or try to talk the King into not passing a law that allowed enslavement of the non-humans. It never worked. It was a consist struggle between the magi and the Warrior Queen. He could never figure out why Belladonna didn’t like them, though. In a way, he figured, she didn’t like the fact that both Morgana and Merlin were people that she couldn’t really control. She could limit their powers, but she could never bring them under her thumb. Just like she could not do it to the General or the Assassin.
Belladonna went on until she was interrupted, “A curse on the Holy Sword? That is fool-hearty! There is no such thing as a curse on the Holy Sword. If there was, the entire kingdom would know about it. It is a great honor to die as King, but —”
“Belladonna Black-Drake!” Vivian snapped, loudly. Sucking in a breath, Belladonna fell silent and turned to look at the older Queen with an outrage expression. “I believe them.”
“Oh, of course, you do, you crazy, old hag,” Belladonna growled. Her eyes narrowed at the other Queen. Merlin’s eyes widen as he realized he might be witnessing one of the legendary fights between the oldest Queens. He had heard rumors of these types of fights from the guards that patrol the halls in the Queen’s tower and once he heard it straight from the mouth of the General. He believed the rumors, but he never thought he would be witnessing one. He glanced at Morgana.
Morgana shook her head, slowly. A small grin crossed her face as she watched the brewing storm between the two of the most powerful woman that lived today. Merlin glanced at Morgana. He turned back to the brewing storm. He was going to play it smart and stay out of the way, allowing the storm break out and run its course.
“What did you just call me, Black?” Vivian pushed out of her chair and stood up, straight. Her fingertips braced herself upon the tablecloth.
“A crazy old hag!” Belladonna narrowed her eyes, “You might want to get your hearing check out.” The tone she used hinted at disrespect and hatred.
“I think, Belladonna, you should start showing the Lady Morgana, Lord Mage Merlin, and I better respect,” Vivian said, coolly, “Because they speak the truth.” She waved a hand toward Merlin and Morgana. Merlin suddenly had the urge to step behind Morgana as Belladonna glared at them. “My husband, the King Micheal, may God rest his soul, was Chosen by the Holy Sword. He was not born as a royal like I was or you were.” She stepped toward Belladonna.
Shaking her head, Belladonna snorted, “Only because the Queen Lilian didn’t do her job right and produce a heir,” as she crossed her arms over her chest. She couldn’t believe the oldest living Queen would fall for the Magi’s tricks. Traditions were in placed to help keep the order of a family and Honor the Lord Most High. There was no way that Vivien’s husband was low born. King Micheal had been a close cousin to King William and that blood tie allowed Micheal to take the throne, not because some phony spell. Another reason why Micheal had to take the throne was the fact that Lilian was barren.
The room went eerily silent. Morgana’s eyes widen in horror and pain as she lost her smile. Merlin flinched at the announcement. Kalliope jerked back in surprise. Vivien froze, her back snapping straight. Clarine raised her head and glared at her mother-in-law, “The Queen Lilian did her right, correctly. If I remembered right, her job was to rule beside her husband, the King William, and advise him when he needed to be given advice. Which she did. So, in other words, she did her job correctly. She helped Vivi, you, and I settled in the position of High Queen, answering any questions we had.”
Merlin’s eyes darted over to Clarine in surprise. This was an interesting development. From what he had heard, Clarine never got into the arguments between the two older Queens. However, the topic of Queen Lilian was a sensitive topic. Lilian couldn’t have kids and treated the other Queens as her daughters when they came to the Castle, including Belladonna. Lilian even treated Morgana, the General, and the Assassin as her daughters. It was something that Morgana found great joy in it, dispute being a lot older then Lilian. Morgana had lost her own mother at a young age. Merlin, however, didn’t know if Clarine was close to Lilian or not. He usually didn’t get involved with the inner relationships of the Queens. He left that to Morgana.
“If Lilian really cared for traditions,” Belladonna glared at Clarine, “She would have stepped aside and insisted that William take another wife or have a mistress.” She turned to Vivian and started, “I do think if you continue talking like that…this nonsense about a spell on the Holy Sword, a curse that is supposedly killing our grandson, and this annoying talk of Arthur not becoming King after Uther’s death…One would think you are in on this plot to take over the crown.”
Merlin frowned. Of course, Belladonna thought it was conspiracy against the crown. ‘Just what else…don’t jinx yourself, Merl, you know Belladonna would just think of something else to pin on Morgana and you,’ he thought. He glanced over at the Black Mage and saw the hunted memory glazed over Morgana’s eyes. He knew she was reliving the memory of what happen to Queen Lilian. He hoped Belladonna wouldn’t speak ill of Lilian anymore then she already had. Morgana, he knew, had bonded with the Queen over the shared fact neither had children, despite their desire to.