MORDRED

Twelve bullets in each cylinder. Silver triggers. Dark gray leather grip. Long silver chain with a small amount of iron dust. Bullets are specifically designed for this pair. It was a gift and the only ‘magic’ the healer had for an attack. Could attack.

The Demon’s face was covered entirely with a dark leathered mask. Her skin was covered with a red draped blouse with long bell sleeves and her painted dark leggings were almost obscured with her tall brown boots.

And blood was dripping from the iron of her wings. Machines that formed wings and feathers that were just carved iron.

‘’Who are you?’’ Lancelot demanded an answer. The demon did not reply and turned her left hand into a fist.

And then, the blood of the iron feathers shifted, turning sharp like broken glass, piercing under everyone’s skin.

Lancelot growled and with his wounded hand, they commanded the water, out of their flask, to move its fighter to the crimson rain, making a veil right above them. He then tightened his hand into a fist, freezing the veil completely, forming a ceiling above with the red crystals trying to break it.

‘’Who is she?’’ The soldier asked.

‘’A Hecca’’ Lancelot looked down at the Hybrid, waiting for her to say something.

She shook her head in disagreement and kept looking up. So did Mordred. The Demon spread her white feathered wings and flew higher till she found an open destination and dove in far from the ceiling as she now let her feet down to the winter grass.

‘’One’’ She growled, moving her hand to the height of her shoulder. ‘’Only one,’’ She said again.

‘’Yeah, we heard about it.’’ The Guard whined. ‘’But no thank you.’’ He narrowed his eyes.

The Demon laughed beneath the mask and made a small jump before her body clinging to the soldier’s chest, feet down his stomach, and claws, ready to snatch him.

Mordred instantly drew out his guns and shot out of each of them two bullets. Her wings defended her back but she jumped far from Ukko with a hiss. She then faced the Hybrid and jumped to her slightly, scratching her body with her claws. The Hybrid gasped and took a step back, looking at the blood she had shed.

‘’Ha’’The Hecca mocked.

‘’She is a blood demon’’ Lancelot informed. ‘’If she controls blood she might also create curses. So, stay away from her touch.’’

‘’Curse?’’ The soldier cried and searched his body with his shaking hands.

‘’What do you mean by a curse?’’ Hephaestus asked.

‘’Blood magic comes in different forms and shapes’’ Mordred explained while Lancelot moved his fingertips, melting the ice.

''The curse is one of them. Think of it that it can block something from you’’ he lowered his eyes, close to their hands. ‘’They can command you to never invent something ever again. And if you do’’ He took a deep breath. ‘’There is always a price.’’

‘’Sedna was a curse caster'' Lancelot added with every remaining water in the palm of his hand. ‘’She made every mortal to ever exist and never pass the border. She made Babel.''

‘’Unless they plead loyalty to her,’’ Hephaestus muttered. ‘’Correct?’’

Lancelot did not lie or hide the truth. He just remained silent.

‘’Daggers are created to be the small window’’ he explained. ‘’But none can break a curse without fulfilling the terms or breaking seals that are unbroken’’

‘’So, am I cursed?’The soldier panicked, searching his body with his heavy hands.

‘’No’’ The Demon finally spoke and looked all over her wings. ‘’Not yet’’ She jumped again, this time right at Lancelot’s side.

Lancelot bared his teeth‘’Run’’ He ordered with the water slashing her left shoulder. She let out a scream but her wings did not give up as she kept moving her body toward them.

‘’I told you to ru-’’

Mordred’s eyes were snatched wide as Hecca’s hands found Lancelot’s neck. Her head moved closer to his ears with her wind guarding their arms.

‘’Kill four of them.'' She ordered Lancelot whose neck was now painted with a white crack. As if he was made of porcelain, ready to break. ‘’Or your head will fall.''

‘’No’’ Lancelot gasped, getting on his knees.

‘’Two minutes’’She whispered.

Hephaestus and the Hybrid took a step back. The soldier turned closer to the Royal. But Mordred moved front as the Hecca let herself rest in one of the trees, waiting for what would happen next.

‘’Lancelot,’’ He let his guard down, letting his voice break as his hand tried to touch the top of his hair.

‘’Run’’ He growled, a few seconds before he managed to touch his locks.

‘’What?’’ Mordred flinched.

‘’I am not planning to die today’’ He stood up, two feet now far from Mordred. The water floated around his fingers. And his face, his skin, his coils, down and above his eyes was painted with a bright lake green color. ‘’I cannot die yet’’ They panted with cold and rough, exposing his sharp teeth.

‘’But you said.’’ Mordred moved back.

‘’None can have that power’’He groaned, exhausted. ‘’Not even you’’

‘’What are you talking about?’’ The Hybrid shouted from behind.

‘’Shut it Half wit’’ He hissed, commanding the water shaped like a cut to find her throat.

Both of her hands covered her face, touching the water, freezing it completely. Mordred saw it happening so fast and reacted after it was over. But she did it in a matter of seconds. He could not hide his shock or amusement coming for her.

‘’That is not my name,’’ She said, wiping her hands.

Hephaestus moved their hand on the top of her shoulder, pulling her further from the ice.

Mordred moved his pistols to Lancelot’s head, ready to shoot. But he never did it. Lancelot flicked his fingers, breaking the ice to pieces, like daggers.

‘’Tell them to run’’ Lancelot frowned with his eyes staring at the healer. Mordred turned back, facing everyone.

‘’Run’’ Mordred said. ‘’I will follow’

The Hybrid was the first to run backward and turn over before she started jumping. The Royal grabbed the Guard's hand and followed. Only Hephaestus stayed longer with eyes showered with pain. Were they afraid that he might actually die? Or were they hoping he would? Their secret would be safe, their life would be safe. I cannot die yet. I made a promise to him.

‘’I will follow’’ He repeated once. ‘’I promise’’ He shook, reassuring them.

Hephaestus took a deep breath and tried to walk away slowly, covering the noise.

When everyone was now gone, Mordred turned to Lancelot once more.

‘’I don’t want to hurt you’’ He said.

‘’I am going to kill the rest’’ He snarled, looking at him with anger.

‘’You can’t’’Mordred whispered.

‘’Is this a specific one you wish to stay alive?’’ Lancelot smiled, lifting his chin.

With any way their face reacted to those words, it only gave Lancelot the truth.

‘’I see’’ He cleared his throat and touched the white mark as it became brighter, growing to his chin.

Hephaestus. He thought. If he kills Hephaestus then,

‘’What does Ma’at want?’’ His head turned above his shoulder, looking at the Hecca.

She kicked her feet in the middle of the air.''The same as The Great Ruler craves. Balance’’ she replied. ‘’Peace. Order’’

'' Excellent to know’’ He answered. Mordred turned one of the cylinders to the left and aimed for the blood demon’s chest. She was very surprised to react and fell to the ground like a grown apple and her wings made a cracking sound. Mordred moved the cylinder and shot again, to the same space, lowering his gun. And again. And again the bullets from his left pistol were now gone and the demon could not move.

There was no pain to feel by taking a life. There was no fear looking at the blood. Every life is being watched by Lord Death. Every life he will take. It doesn’t matter when or how and why.

Everyone is waiting for him to collect their souls. And there were people like Mordred to help him collect.

‘’You will use only one?’’ Lancelot asked, surprised, still in pain.

‘’I don’t want to fight you.'' He looked back with a frown.

‘’Because your superior will be disappointed?’’ Lancelot laughed with mock.

YES.

‘’I don't want to fight either but-’’ Lancelot whispered with an understanding. ‘’I will leave her all alone if I do not.’’

Her?

‘’Loyalty is poison, kid’’ said Lancelot in pain. ‘’It’s so easy to break your promise and yet it’s this poison to burn you if you do.’’

Mordred looked down, finding the mask around his belt. Thinking how easy it would be to move it back to their face.

Lancelot’s fingers flickered, moving one of the sharp pieces close to their body. Like a knife, the ice cut under their skin, deeply at their shoulders. One second of pain and the fallen blood to stop existing. Lancelot, ready to attack once more, gave Mordred two seconds to dodge down. The next time, the ice rushed for their pistols, pushing them far from Mordred. They looked back, thinking how to take him from down to the ground. But their thoughts were not fast enough as one of the pieces of ice fell to the left side of their body, piercing deeply inside. They let out a heavy panting, looking down and trying to heal on their own.

I can heal. I can only defend.

Hermes had offered them a place in the infirmary. Suggesting that they could help people by healing. Even if warlocks were able to heal their bodies by themselves, Mordred could be an advantage. But the healer wished to fight for Babel. Fight for the one who saved him.

So, Hermes guided him underground Babel inside the training room.

It could have been an arena like the ones they used to exist a hundred years ago for soldiers to compete, showing each of their strength to the kingdom. But this was not for long as the manpower was lost by other soldiers’ pride and wrath.

There were iron cylinders the height of a common mortal, scratched from previous attacks, weapons to each of the walls, and the pillars from the ground to the top of the ceiling for everyone to see what was up ahead. Even in one of the pillars, there was Hestia who was sitting down all excited.

At the top of the ceiling there was a bright orb of light, keeping the room bright and the dust from the harsh ground visible. There was a soft, calm scent of sand and oak wood which made Mordred feel at ease and comfortable.

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But Mordred turned their head to look back at the cylinders. Letting their fingers rest on the scars, they felt a sharp heat attack their skin. Pulling back they could see clearly that the attack only made a surface scratch. Not deep enough for a proper cut.

‘’It’s not enough damage’’ Hermes laughed from behind them, moving his hands inside his pockets. ‘’It took me almost a month to make that small scratch’’

‘’Can anyone cut it...completely?'' They looked up, asking a naive question. Hermes smiled gently against them and rested his hand on their right shoulder.

‘’Would you like this to happen, wouldn’t you?’’ He asked them.

Mordred shrugged and faced away.

‘’If this is what you want then I will too.’’ They finally spoke, with their eyes up to him. His colors changed suddenly as he heard the young kid saying words that even a soldier did not dare to admit.

The doctor cleared his throat and started explaining that needs‘’First, you will need to know how to survive without incantation or weapon.’’ His lips forced a smile. ‘’You can defend easily but-’’

‘’Stop talking more fighting’’ Hestia complained from behind.

Hermes shook his head fast and his fingers flickered with a wave of wind moving at his command.

And so it began their training to fight. It was never fair that Hermes was using incantation to attack but life was not fair, not for them, not for anyone actually. So Mordred had to become faster in defense of the wind and strong enough to hit someone with their fists.

A month passed and Mordred finally met Nephthys. The first thought they had of her was cruel.

Her eyes glared at Mordred inside the arena and then she turned against Hermes by talking roughly to him.

‘’What are they doing here?’’ She asked with a hiss.

‘’They just wanted to know some defense’’

‘’Cut the shit’’ She laughed, scratching her loose hair. ‘’To defend from what?’’ She arched her brow furious.

‘’You should better go,’’Hestia whispered to Mordred cowardly. Mordred did not move from his position and kept looking behind the cylinders at Nephthy's panicking expressions.

‘’They are a child, what are you thinking?’’

‘’They asked for this’’ Hermes replied to her insult. ‘’They want to fight’’

‘’Do they?’’ Her voice returned cold and she jerked her head at Hestia as she was moving to her side.

‘’Are you agreeing with him?’’ Nephthys asked the young woman. ‘’Are you willing to let it happen?’’

‘’I was their age when I started training’’ Hestia responded, smiling nervously.

Then the woman moved her fingers to her tight choker, taking deep breaths before he looked at Mordred with a soft smile as her eyes held tears for something the healer could not understand.

‘’I will talk to the lead-’’

No need to say anything to him.’’Hermes returned her idea with a grin ‘’I already have spoken to him’’

The woman let out a laugh which made Hestia walk away with her hands up.

‘’And he agreed?’’ She asked,breathless.

‘’Maybe my words and..’’He made a long pause for his steps to let him stand close enough to her so he could whisper in her ear. Mordred did not know what secret he shared but it was something that made her slap the doctor and push him away.

‘’You are pathetic. A pathetic little man who will end up drunk and alone.''

Mordred now jumped out of his not-so-hidden hideout and faced Nephthys with hatred. But Nephthys' eyes softened around the healer’s sudden storming, letting her body be at ease as she touched her choker one more time before she cleared her throat.

‘’Beware of people like him’’

‘’Go Nephthys,’’ Hermes demanded with a rough burn.

When she was gone- ten minutes after she was gone- Hermes’ body broke down and his hands covered his shaking face. His voice broke, letting whimpers and cry out loud and his eyes shut down, holding the tears.

‘’She is right, you know’’ He licked his lips breathlessly. ‘’If you stay one more minute with me, you will be ruined’’

Despite the woman’s harsh words, warnings, and honesty and the doctor’s broken presence, Mordred got on his knees and looked at the man with admiration.

‘’You saved my life’’ They said softly. ‘’I follow the light when I see it’’ Their lips forced a smile that they had forgotten to use. ‘’So, I will follow you. I promise and I vow’’

His eyes were unfolded by his long arms and he looked back at the young healer with a surprised expression with his eyes darting.

‘’You have no idea what these words mean.'' He sniffed as his lips curved into a grin.

‘’Promise me this’’ He wished. ‘’Do the impossible. Beyond your limits’’

Mordred had been saved by him, they were raised by him, and they were trained. Everything they are now, they are because of him.

And the healer was not ready to let the doctor down. Was not ready to leave him too.

And they would not let themselves die from Lancelot.

So, he finally put the mask back to his face and prayed with a muttered sound.

I can heal. I can defend. I can defend him.

The next attack from Lancelot was a straight cut. Mordred dodged it by jumping behind with his body down fast enough with not any damage around their body from their attack. Their arms moved behind, touching the chain tight enough to throw both pistols in front. As their heart kept tightening, and their brow kept a heavy sweat, the healer did not stop fighting, did not stop trying to dodge the attacks.

A second for his hand to let the chain and half second, his palms to grab the grips of the pistols and stand on his feet. One more attack from Lancelot managed to cut Mordred’s left leg. Another one hit his left arm. But the healer did not give up no matter how many times he was in pain and bleeding.

One bullet was not enough. But it was enough for him to prove a point to Lancelot. That he would do everything for them not to kill.

Beyond my limits.

He started running to Lancelot, throwing one of the pistols to his side, moving behind the nymph’s neck with the chain following. Lancelot tried to move his hands but the pistols landed on Mordred’s side. They let the previous gun move to their free one so they could hold both pistols with ease.

He pulled the demon closer. His heart kept racing like a train with Lancelot’s eyes staring right at him. Mordred forced him to lower his head as he lifted his knee, touching Lancelot’s chin with it and kicking it back, succeeding in making him fall.

‘’What are you doing?’’ Lancelot groaned. Mordred’s teeth gritted and pulled the chain one more time closer to his own body, dragging Lancelot from the ground.

‘’Loyalty is strength’’ He finally spoke once more. ‘’I am alive because of it. I am alive because of my beliefs.’’

Lancelot‘s eyes darted before he closed them and smiled. His hands rested down, giving up fighting. And his skin became brighter with the white marks growing as the green ones gave up.

‘’But where does your loyalty lie too?’’ asked Lancelot with a smile.

Mordred grunted surprised by that question.

‘’He ordered you to kill them, didn’t he?'' He asked.

Mordred wanted to ask how he knew it. How did he know everything? But the mark around his head started becoming brighter.

‘’Why are they still alive?’’

‘’What does Ma’at actually want?’’ Mordred changed the subject. ‘’You will die either way so at least give me this’’

There was a pin-drop silence for a mere moment before Lancelot found the strength to speak. ‘’He wants everything and nothing’’ He said. ‘’He wants Akhet on the top and the rest to vanish’’ His voice started breaking.

‘’And how will he manage?''

‘’He has one’’ Lancelot interrupted him. ‘’He needs the other three. And one. And the key’’

Mordred tried to ask. But this time Lancelot was the one to ask the question.

‘’The Gunsmith. Hephaestus.'' He panted. ‘’They reek of ashes.''’

Mordred’s eyes snapped and faced away cowardly. Lancelot scoffed.

‘’Is this the one who you don't want me to kill?’’

Mordred did not speak.

‘’Will you kill them?’’ He asked. ‘’Will you kill them and take their ashes?’’

How many times did Mordred think about it after he found out the truth? Shoot them, strangle them, take their life out of their body, and then the fire will come to him. That is how the Phoenix curse works. Gaining the power you had to take the holder’s life. A gift and a curse.

Hephaestus had done it. Hephaestus had killed to gain that power. But Mordred could not imagine their hands stained in red. Maybe they were not the carefree person they made themselves look like.

‘’What else do you know?’’ Mordred changed the subject again.

‘’That everything is a true, beautiful lie’’ Lancelot smiled as the mark kept glowing. ‘’That you and the rest are heading to a future where none can protect you’’ His eyes darkened. ''Now answer me this. Will you kill them?''

There was a silence. There were thoughts on the healer's mind. They had killed many people. Thirty two, counting Leviathan and the Hecca. What's the difference from thirty six?

''What keeps me alive and what is the truth is my beliefs.''He said, taking a deep breath.''Loyolaty keeps me alive. If I have to kill them, I will. I swore to it and I will fulfill my promise.'' There was a sudden grin curved on his face from relief.''Nothing has changed.''

Lancelot blinked twice before laughing from the shock he took by Mordred's honesty.

His hands touched their pistols, moving his thumbs to their triggers.

Mordred’s brow was bathed in a cold sweat as he did not have time to react to Lancelot’s actions.

‘’Nothing can break the curse’’He repeated, moving the pistol closer to his mouth. ‘’ But I can’t kill what I swore to protect till my death. I can’t betray her. But I can change how my fate will end.’’

‘’Who is her?’’ Mordred shouted now eager.

One more crack.‘’You cannot defeat what is coming.’’

And then, there was a gunshot echoing from Lancelot’s mouth. The blood was gold as it stained Mordred’s face. He had heard how the first demons were bleeding differently but now Mordred wished he had not faced it. He waited for time to turn back as he rested their rotten flesh down.

He tried to remember how to breathe as he took a few steps back.

You cannot defeat what is coming.

He looked at his left arm. Shaking from the pain. Still trying to heal. And then at his own tattoo.

They could have killed me right there. Mordred panicked.

Taking three deep breaths, the healer put his mask back on and prayed for Lancelot.

Their eyes were closed. Their mouth and half of their face was bathed in gold. The water gave life to the grass while the holder of it was now lost.

May Lord Death take your soul.

May Lord Death send you to the Spirits.

May the Spirits guide you to eternal peace.

He took a deep breath and turned his body far from the rotten flesh. Guns to his hips, hands free and steady.

And then there was it again, two sharp pains in his chest. An attack. He looked down, noticing a red spear poking from his body. His heartbeat skipped so many times before he found the fallen Hecca moving her shaking hand up.

‘’Not yet’’She cried as the mask fell, showing her face. Her eyes were red like the Hybrid's with one whole mark at the center of her forehead. Her face, painted with red lines like blood as she kept using her strength ten times more than before.

Mordred moved one of the pistols up and shot her hand, pushing it far as she screamed. The spikes kept piercing underneath his skin, his flesh, and his life, but he had to keep pushing forward.

‘’Six sunrises’’ She panted. Mordred pressed the cylinder and shot again, this time at her shoulder. The Hecca pulled her body far with her wings hiding her as a shield till she let every pain her. Mordred could not hide how impressed he was by her as even from the pain he gave to her, the screams she was shouting, the attack did not stop. Her determination did not fade.

‘’Six sunrises till you fulfill your promise’’ She sighed with tears.

Mordred’s eyes snapped after her threatening words.

Two pieces of steel flew between Mordred, hitting both of Hecca’s wings and pushing her back to the trees. Three seconds after her features decayed from her iron wings like winter leaves. Her horns were rotting slowly, turning white. Her eyes lost the determent, the light with her skin, slightly losing the color of her complexion. But her smile did not fade.

Mordred gulped, turning his head behind. Red copper hair was moving with the sync of the wind. Blue eyes like the sky were flickering, looking at the healer’s face. Then down, noticing that their prosthetic looked untouched. No more pieces moved out for them to succeed in taking Hecca's life.

They created steel from nothing. He panicked. How long were they behind?

Mordred’s hands slipped behind, moving to the grip of the pistols.

‘’You are alright’’ Hephaestus panted with their hands clenched on their knees. Their eyes rested around his presence, studying every inch, every last detail of him. It took Mordred a couple of seconds to stare at his clothing and flesh which was bathed in gold and red.

Hephaestus moved their hands up, touching his mask tight, and moved it while holding their heavy breath.

When they revealed his face, their lips quickened to make a sweet tired smile.

His heart raced as he tried to let out words calmly. To explain what happened.

But Hephaestus’ arms jumped to his body, getting wrapped around his waist with a squeeze, breaking any of the walls he had built all these years. Their fingers gripped the fabric of his clothes tight, almost finding his wounded skin. ‘’You are alright’’ They repeated themselves, resting their head on the top of his shoulder.

Listening to their fast heartbeat against his chest, the healer could only think how scared they were to see someone like him, someone who hurt them to be injured. Or worse.

What did you lose? He thought, listening to a whimper escaping their lips.

At that moment, Mordred was unable to express himself, feeling completely overwhelmed by the strong emotions that threatened to consume him. He could not speak or look away. The healer gasped to wake from the shock, looking down at the top of their skull, covered with their messy hair. Brown like an oak tree and yet there were still red stripes like an inferno.

He could still imagine himself killing them. His hands became gripped behind, close to his pistols. Taking their life from their body. Taking the ashes from their body.

He would have fulfilled his promise. He would have done what was right.

Instead, Mordred hummed, relaxing his hands far from the weapons.

‘’I am alright’’ He whispered close to their ear, smelling their burned scent, relaxing his gaze at them.

Hephaestus pulled far from him and sniffed hard, holding tears.

‘’The others are coming.’’ They explained, looking down at the ground, sniffing deep, and then gagging with disgust.

‘’You need a bath,’’ they complained, turning their eyes up. ‘’You look like you have returned from the other side.’’

Mordred just chuckled and replied, ''At least I don't have to worry about getting my clothes dirty."

‘'Is this supposed to be a joke?'' Hephaestus chuckled. ''Spirits, you suck at it'' They whined, crossing their arms around their chest.

‘’You are the one to talk.’’Mordred scoffed, taking a step closer to them. "Oh, I see, now sarcasm is your new magic!" They looked back with a firm grin, showing their deep dimples.

A drop of cold sweat fell from his chin the minute the sun found his shoe. For a second, just for a second, he felt his heart vanishing. Every part of his skin decayed and every one of his thoughts and every emotion he had became meaningless.

He could not listen to the others approaching him with shouting. He could not look up as he fell on his knees, touching the blouse close to his chest.

He took a deep breath but it was not enough. This was not panic. It was death.

Six sunrises. Six sunrises till you fulfill your promise. The Hecca growled.

Nothing and none can vanish a curse.