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THIRTY

MORDRED

Waking up to a bed that did not belong to them, smelling a perfume that they did not get used to. Despite their desire to panic, the priest's body was burning. Especially their back. Half of their arms were bandaged up with a girl sitting right next to them whispering a song. A blind girl sang a lullaby that the healer could not recognize from her whispers.

‘’Where’’That was the only thing they could let out of their aching lungs.

Looking around, it was clear that they were in a medical wig. Doctors treat scars and sicknesses.

A man with golden hair entered the room with an energetic smile. His face was deformed by swollen scars. Near him stood a woman of the man's age with curly long dark hair on only her left side, and the right side of her head looked as if it had been attacked by fire.

When the blind girl left, the woman sat in her seat and stretched her arms and legs, beaming with pleasure.

Mordred, pushed their weak body up, feeling something strange, swimming to their back, like a liquid, trying to escape.

The man had the name Janus. He was trying to calm them, to tell them that they were safe. To let them know that it is a sanctuary. Babel. It was a safe place.

Falling to the floor with a broken nose, Janus faced Mordred in shock. The woman stood up from her seat and let her hand rest on their shoulder. Her kind stone amber eyes, facing them, gazing into their eyes. Staring at them with compassion.

The priest screamed and pushed her away. Their heart, burning, their throat closing, and their eyes darting. The priest could only think of how they had failed. They were a warlock. They betrayed the Spirits. Family, they were loyal to. Everything was changing and collapsing. And everyone was now staring at them.

‘’Get out’’ A familiar voice echoed. The priest did not realize that they were now, sitting on the floor with their knees kissing the cold ground.

Looking up, the light fell on the man they had met before. He helped them move back to the medical bed. This time, there was a set of tea on the empty seat. None was there for the priest to be stared by.

The tea was warm, almost hot, making their head dizzy. But sweet. Sweet enough for their cheeks to turn warm.

The man had the name, Hermes. He explained that he had heard about a warlock who might be hiding in temples. And that there was an attack from them, killing every priest.

‘’Except you’’ He sounded amused. Mordred did not speak and let their eyes study the man’s face. Harsh from his dark goatee but clean from any scars and wounds. His eyes, light green with a soft, caring look, down to Mordred’s hands.

‘’Did you know that there was more than you?’’

Mordred shook a giant no.

‘’I found that I am a warlock…’’

Their mind turned blank. When did they find out that they were a warlock? Did they always know? What were the names of the priests? The area they were living in. Their parents' names. The reason their back was burning, hitting them painfully like poison.

They only remembered that their name was Mordred. They are eight years old. A warlock and a priest.

They tried to speak, to let out just a word from their tired lungs. Help. But only tears were the ones to fall. Their heart tight, racing fast like a train. And his gaze did not let go from the doctor’s sad expression.

His embrace, tight and warm, pulled the priest closer and closer, managing to listen to Herme's fast heartbeat.

‘’You are safe’’ He repeated, stroking his dark hair from behind. ‘’None will ever going to hurt you here,’’ He whispered.

His embrace did not change, even years later. His smile was kind when it needed to be. The tea was warm and sweet as always, making their head, heavy enough but not enough to make the healer dizzy.

Looking around the office, Mordred could see the paperwork was five times more substantial than the last time they saw it.

‘’Is it true?’’ Hermes panted. ‘’About the artifact..’’

‘’Yes,’’ Mordred shook their head and looked down. ‘’The iron does not work and the sources’’’

‘’It’s remarkable '' Hermes lifted his hands and shouted like he won the war. But the war was not over. However, looking at the superior, making dreams about the hope that was brought up to Babel, was something that Mordred could satisfy completely.

His hands cupped the mask of Mordred’s face, pulling it away slowly.

‘’You did great’’ He almost cried from exhaustion, looking deep into Mordred’s eyes.

Mordred remained silent and hummed.

‘’But..’’

The light and hope shattered.

‘’I still do not get why they are…’’

‘’I needed them’’ Mordred’s eyes twitched. ‘'I needed them to get out’’

‘’Why are they still alive, Mordred?’’ His hands were now closer to their skin, pushing the cheek, hurting them.

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‘’I did not know what would happen if they…’’

‘’What do you think will happen if they found out that the Royal is here?’’

‘’But the curse’’ Mordred interrupted. ‘’You agreed that the curse will keep the mortals’’

‘’I do not talk about mortals, '’ Hermes shouted. ‘’What do you think people here will do to the girl whose family is the reason so many like us were in the stakes?’’ His eyes twitch.

Mordred did not speak, feeling foolish like this wouldn’t be a problem. They would hurt the Royal for sure.

‘’And what would they think of the council letting her stay’’

‘’Her incantation is strong,’’ Mordred insisted. What? What am I doing?

‘’The Guard too… and the Gunsmith helped us’’

‘’The Gunsmith is the first problem that I told you to get rid of’’ He pointed with his finger right at their face, with a snarled expression. Now screaming, Mordred felt the tight pain in their chest once more.

‘’Now, threatening us, threatening Babel with heir nonsense’’

‘’They know the scientist, I saw…’’

'' Excellent '' Hermes opened his arms and laughed. ‘’You brought them, knowing their past’’

I don’t.

‘' I trust you more than everyone here’’ He rested his arms down. But them…’’ He took a deep breath. ‘’When they disagree of fighting, they will turn their tail and go to Elysium and..’’

‘’They won't,’’ Mordred snapped.

‘’How do you know?’’ Hermes laughed cruelly.

Stop.

Mordred looked at the floor. And did not stop looking at it while Hermes kept lecturing them. They could hardly breathe. Hardly could think. There was a sense of doubt. A doubt that they hated just the thought of.

You did great.

You did Great.

You Did Great.

YOU DID GREAT.

Hermes noticed their expression and snapped from his anger, apologizing with a mutter again and again, pulling his hair back. "You have done well," he said, trying to sound more encouraging than his previous outburst. They did not blame him. They could see how hard he was trying to not fall asleep. To not stop fighting.

‘’I didn't mean to…’’ His hand moved slightly to their face, cupping their left cheek. Warm and welcoming for them to feel safe. Their breathing returned to normal, calm, and relaxed. Mordred forced their lips to relax, forming a smile. Hermes sighed and chuckled softly, glad that they understood.

‘’You made a mistake but that doesn’t mean it cannot be fixed’’

Their eyes flinched.

‘’What?’’ They asked, confused.

‘’You brought a Hybrid into the shelter.'' Hermes scoffed. ‘’Do you know what they can do?’’

They did not answer. The only thing they knew was that they were dangerous. And they could fit on blood. But that, it seemed, was a lie. "You must be careful of what you bring into this shelter''Hermes lectured. ‘’What Can they do?’’ Mordred asked, confused.

Hermes' lips were pressed in a thin line as he touched his chin, studying the situation they were both in.

‘’They are always words for them, in religion that I do not believe’’ He admitted, sighing.

‘’But?’’ Mordred arched his brow.

‘’But I believe people who lived long lives to tell stories’’ He raised his head up and forced a smile.

Then, he sighed heavily and pulled away from the healer.

‘’Bad Omens, come and go'' they said. ‘’Hybrids are one of them. The ones that survived at birth at least…’’ His eyes looked at the ground as his hands slipped behind his back.

‘’She has no incaton, yes?’’

Mordred shook a no. ‘’Ice..but only with touch’’

‘’Ice?’’ His eyebrows rose, surprised, and looked left and right. ''But she is..''

The color of his face faded. For a second, his eyes were stained with fear. His mouth opened, but no words came out as he realized what he was saying.

Mordred had never seen him that afraid. As if Lord Death had appeared right before his eyes.

Then, the door opened wide with Janus storming inside the room. His brow had been showered by cold sweat and his gaze was almost painful, terrified.

‘’What is it?’’Hermes asked curiously.

Janus panted.’’ The…’’He managed to catch a breath as his darting eyes looked at Mordred.’’Something is happening. There is an explosion and..’’

Hermes walked to his side, resting his hands on his shoulders. ‘’Calm down. ‘’He comforted him, with a pat.

‘’There was an explosion inside the room. Someone has called warlocks to kill them.’’

‘’What?’’ Hermes shouted, shocked.

‘’I tried to find them but it seems that’’He took one more deep breath and looked at Mordred, ashamed.

‘’It’s my fault’’ He muttered beneath his breath. Hermes did not seem to have listened to it but Mordred had millions of questions. ‘’It is all my fault.’’

‘’I will handle it,’’ Hermes whispered, showing Janus one of his chairs before collapsing into it.

Hermes moved away from Janus. ‘’He always carries this weight of guilt’’ He annalized in front of Mordred. ‘’ But you have no guilt, do you?’’

Mordred nodded slowly.

‘’What shall I do?’’They asked him.

‘’Go find them, of course. See if they are still alive’’

‘’Of course.’’ Mordred almost bowed but Hermes interrupted them.

‘’And if they are alive, kill them.’’

‘’What?’’ Mordred asked, shocked.

Hermes repeated himself. ‘’All of them. I want them dead’’

''Why?'' Mordred panted.

''Is it of importance?'' Hermes’ lips twitched.

They waited for another answer. For another order. But there was none. There was nothing.

His eyes were sharp and determined.

Their gaze never wavered, not for a second, and the determination in their eyes was clear. They didn't want to be seen, so they pulled the mask back up over their face, hiding from the world.

‘’I promise I will kill them. That is my vow’’ They failed, hiding their doubt.

Hermes heard it loud and clear, listening to it, amused.

‘’You understand the reason, don’t you?’’ He asked them.

‘’I will fight for you’’ Mordred answered. ‘’Nothing has changed’’

They knew the reason. It did not matter to them. Serving the light was their purpose.

‘’I am glad’’ He sighed with a laugh and lowered his eyes to the pistols.

. ‘’There are twenty more sets in my drawer’’ He said, walking away.

‘’Please’’ He begged again, his smile now faded. Mordred could listen to his cold voice, breaking, every time he gave them a challenging mission. Mordred did not feel like it was a challenge. He was desperate to get their help, which was evident in his tone and demeanor, yet Mordred sensed an ulterior motive behind his request. Then again. They did not mind.

‘’I lost too many people. I do not want to lose you too.’’ He said sincerely.

Now, alone, Mordred opened the drawer and found all twenty boxes filled with fillers. The bullets were specially made for that kind of pistols. Light like any other kind of metal, but dangerous like any other bullet. There was amplifying dust inside it, making the metal stronger. Enki explained that amplifiers could even bring strength. After years of studying it and two missing arms, she laughed like a victor when she showed all of the members the metal dust.

Taking a deep breath they faced their hands, imagining the color red getting stained once more. Imagining everyone’s bodies, falling close to the last one standing.

Do whatever you think is right.

‘’This is the right thing’’ Mordred grunted, trying to forget Hephaestus’s words. Why did they think about them at that moment?

They had made the decision. The right one. To follow the light, to make their superior, their savior proud no matter what. If they had to kill them, the Healer would do it.

They shook their head, moving the remaining bullets to their bag but then, they took a better look inside.

There was no air to breathe. There was no time to get everything out again, to see perfectly. Because they were certain. Suddenly, panic started to set in. Their heart raced and their breathing quickened. They felt an overwhelming sense of dread as they imagined that they were stuck in a tight space. Their chest started to feel heavy and their palms began to sweat.

The dagger Hermes gave them was missing.