It took us nearly four hours to get fully packed, because Scott took a cat nap, the damn hypocrite, and Elysif was hungover for another two hours before she could actually pack. I ended up vomiting out the window and ruining a stray cat's day while waiting for Scott and Elysif. Eventually, we were able to leave the apartments and run to the train station… only to learn that we had missed the train that we were supposed to be on by nearly twenty minutes.
Thankfully, we found another train that would be leaving in an hour, so we wandered around, looking at different shops, to pass the time. Had this been my modern day, we would have easily been mistaken for tourists. From the shops, Scott bought a fancy case of cigars that were rather expensive. and Elysif bought several pounds worth of bread and pastries. Sadly, a passerby knocked into her and much of her pastries fell on the ground, where it quickly became a feast for the birds.
We eventually calmed the already downtrodden Elysif by buying her some more pastries to replace the ones she lost. She did attempt to kill a few of the birds feasting upon her confectionaries before then, but thankfully, she only scared them off for a time. I myself purchased a hat similar to that of a newsboy's cap, a patch set to mend the holes in my coat, and a book to read on the train. By the time we had finished shopping, the train arrived with a bustling crowd and ringing bells. We almost missed it like the last one, but we boarded safely and were finally able to head out on our mission.
The swaying of the train was sickening, not to me or Elysif, but to Scott. Elysif and I had no problem adapting to the rocking of the train. Scott, on the other hand, had staggered to the end of the train and violently threw up all over the track behind us. It was not a pretty sight. To make matters worse, he kept attempting to drink from his flask, only to throw it up again. Couldn’t he wait just a while before getting drunk again? It didn’t make any sense to me, but there was no stopping him. Despite the fact that it was making him puke more, Elysif outright refused to say anything to him about his habit for reasons beyond me.
Once his spewing session ended, he returned to the room we were staying in on the train and plopped himself on a hard cushioned wooden seat, where he got as comfortable as he could. While he had been emptying his innards, I had asked Elysif where we were going. but she had no idea either. She assumed we were heading directly for wherever the mission was supposed to take place, thus we both waited to ask Scott once he returned.
“Scott, where exactly are we going? You haven’t told us much,” I asked curiously.
He looked up at the two of us before sighing. ”We are heading to the Table headquarters in Warwick for information on these Willowisps. Then we head for Haringey forest. They seem to be coming from there,” Scott explained between queasy smothered burps from his motion sickness.
“We're going to Warwick Castle? I’m guessing Silva’s dad would want to speak to you when you arrive?” Elysif asked with a suspicious frown.
“Hence the cigars. They’re his favorite brand, and a gift usually quells any chastising he was planning to give me,” Scott said with a sickly cough, but a smug look that didn’t quite match it.
“Wait, the Table headquarters is at Warwick Castle?” I asked the two of them with a confused look. I had been to the castle as a kid during a class trip, but I never knew it was secretly a base for the Table.
“In it, no. It’s underneath it. The historic castle is a front for the Table, which resides in the castle basement,” Elysif replied as she realized that no one had mentioned this to me before. This new information made me excited to actually see what the Table was like. Hopefully better than Scott’s building.
Our train ride continued through the night and into midmorning, before we arrived in Warwick. Scott got practically no rest, and threw up a few more times before we made it. We even had to stabilize him getting off the train like an old man, and he didn’t return somewhat back to normal until he had rested on one of the nearby benches for a while. The town of Warwick was slightly larger than I had remembered, and the homes were all made of plaster and wood in the cottage style. The road was made of small cobblestones, and the scenery was beautiful, with a river and many vibrant coloured plants. In the background, we could see the top of Warwick Castle, above the trees, with its magnificent stone towers.
As we walked towards the castle, we could see the soft morning glow illuminating the soft grey stones of Warwick castle. Ivy hung as if it were ornamental fabric draped over the side of the large castle walls. Towers adorned the corners of the castle like a crown, yet the jewel on this crown was the magnificent stone entrance, tall, covered in windows, and defensively effective.
Sadly, rather than going to the front door, Scott and Elysif led me to a gated garden entrance on the side of the castle, where two guards stood. They were dressed like butlers for a Lord or Lady, but each held a halberd with a runic symbol on the blade, and partially hidden underneath their coats was a strange chainmail. Initially, they refused to let us in, but after showing the guards our Table badges, they didn’t have any more complaints. One of the guards led us through the garden to the stone wall that made up one side of the castle. Pointing the tip of his halberd at the wall, the guard slowly pushed it into one of the many cracks in the stone. With a slight bit of concentration, he forced magic into the halberd. The glow of the halberd traversed from the crack in the stone to form a rectangle, and the wall swung open like a normal door to my amazement, but the others were less than surprised. It’s understandable since they had seen it before, but for me, it was fantastic.
Going inside, I was surprised that the hallway beyond the door was lit with lanterns, rather than something magical. However, the walls and ceiling seemed to reflect the light of the lanterns, causing the hall to glow a relaxing gold. At the end of the hallway, it opened up to a massive circular room that had several hallways connected to it. Unlike the hallway, the room was a bright blue, with stones sticking out of the walls, glowing the same blue hue. A few people stood in the room, discussing who knows what. One of them was an older man who, upon seeing us, strode over to greet us with a smile. Instead of a normal handshake, he happily gave Scott a hug and patted him on the back a few times.
“How have you been, Scott? I see that you brought friends,” the older man said with a comforting smile. The man was dressed in a fine, hand-tailored, black suit, with a pocket watch chain hanging from his waistcoat pocket. Although he wasn’t clean-shaven, his beard and mustache were kept in a way that reminded me of a sinister villain old-man-style character, but his open smile broke that entire description.
Scott was still a little nauseous from the train, and looked as if the hug was going to make him spill whatever might be left in his stomach. That said, he didn’t mind it. “Please let go, you know how I am after train rides,” Scott requested queasily.
“Oh, sorry, my boy,” the old man said, letting him go. “So what brings you three here?” He asked.
“We need some information on Willowisps. I figured that the Table would have records of such a beast.” Scott said.
“Is one in London? If so, you should be keeping it from attacking civilians,” the old man said with a worried look.
“No, it’s not in London. Mama Louise is watching London while we take care of a few Willowisps in Haringey. They are currently moving towards London. Though, I thought you were the one who told Mama Louise to bother me about this?” Scott replied with a confused and tired look.
“I did hear something about Mama Lousie requesting aid, but that would have gone right to the Head Consul, and she hasn’t said anything to me about it. Though, what of the other clans? Are they staying peaceful back in London?” the old man asked with a hushed voice, as if the underbelly of London wasn’t their business.
“Yes, they had a meeting and all agreed that it was necessary for their own peace that these Willowisps be destroyed,” Scott replied.
“I see. Go speak with Arbus or Mary, but they are going through a rough patch, so don’t mention the other to whomever you see. Oh, and before you do, the Consul and Head Consul have wanted to see you and your new recruit for an official introduction,” the old man said in a tone that sounded more like a command than a request.
“Will do,” Scott agreed with a defeated sigh. It was easy to tell that he had no desire to see the Head Consul or the Consul.
“Speaking of which, I have yet to meet your new recruit,” the old man said to Scott, before looking at me. “I am one of the Table's Directors, Aaron Langston,” the old man said to me, extending a hand out formally.
I shook his hand with as tight a grip as I could muster without making it awkward. ”Lou Barrett, sir. It is good to meet you,” I said, introducing myself as well.
“You seem like a good man. You’ll fit in well here,” Director Aaron said, letting go of my hand.
“And Elysif, how have you been?” he asked cheerfully, turning and giving Elysif a hug with a hearty laugh, and picking her up off the ground while doing it.
“I have been good, but I see old age hasn’t weakened you in the slightest,” she said with a smile.
“Of course it hasn’t,” Director Aaron replied, before turning to face us and setting Elysif down, releasing her from the hug with a friendly smile. “Well, I have some business to attend to, but I shall see you later,” he said with a slight bow of his head.
We all nodded our heads in return. “Oh, I almost forgot. I brought your favorite,” Scott said, pulling out the box of cigars and handing it out to him.
“That’s my favorite son-in-law!” he said, taking the box gleefully.
“... I’m your only son-in-law,” Scott corrected.
“I know. That’s why you're my favorite,” he said without missing a beat, and sauntered off. The three of us waited awkwardly for a moment until the Director had left. Scott then began leading us down one of the hallways, marked with the crest of a dragon and a feather pen.
“So who are the Consuls that we are going to meet?” I asked, as Elysif and I followed him down the hall. The walls of the hall were a mix of perfectly flat surfaces painted white, and large stone bricks that were probably part of the castle's original cellar walls. The only source of light came from decorative oil lanterns hanging on the walls, some of which hadn’t all been lit, leaving patches of unlit hallway.
Scott continued to lead us down the hall without looking back, but explained who the Consul was, “The Head Consul is the leader of the Table, and the Consul is their second in command. Every member of the Table must meet the Consul and Head Consul so that they might be known personally by them.”
“Wait, the head of the entire Table wants to meet with us?” I asked, dumbfounded. It would be the same as a salesman meeting the CEO of the large company that they work for.
“Did you not hear him, or are you too stupid to understand?” Elysif asked rudely.
“I heard him, and I understand. But aren’t they too important to be meeting with us?” I wondered out loud, refusing to acknowledge Elysif’s snark.
“No, they want to meet with us because it’s necessary. Every agent is introduced to them as a sign of respect for joining. You have yet to meet them as a new agent because I didn’t want to ride the train if I could help it, and thus, it is my fault. I am probably going to get chewed out for this,” Scott said, before taking a few swigs from his flask. “Plus, you could call me lazy or a problem child, but I keep forgetting to send in the written reports, so usually, I come in person once or twice a year,” he continued to explain as if he didn’t care.
“I see,” I said as we arrived at the end of the hall. The same crest with a dragon and pen as the one above the entrance to the hallway was placed near the ceiling of the dead end. There were rooms around us, but the hallway led nowhere. The room closest to the dead end was a storage closet, but for some reason both Elysif and Scott were staring at the end of the hallway.
Raising his hand, Scott touched the wall as if ceremonially, “In the name of Arthur Pendragon, I, a knight of the table, command you to open.” As he finished speaking, the wall slid to the side to reveal a secret room.
Inside, there was a room smaller than I expected, as it was roughly ten meters long and fifteen meters wide. It was impossible to tell what colour the walls were, because they were lined with bookshelves. And, on opposite sides of the room, were a pair of desks. The one to the left side was as clean as it could be, with various papers neatly stacked and placed, and a young man leaning over it to examine some of the documents without acknowledging us entering the room.
Although he looked young, he had a lonely look on his face that made him seem rather old and tired. His short black hair conflicted with his looks, and it didn’t help that he wore a robe similar to Iscariot’s. However, this man's robe was covered in Nordic and Greek symbols woven together for some kind of magic formula, unlike Isariot’s. Because of the Arthurian legends surrounding this place, I wondered if he was a descendant or from a line of apprentices of Merlin or one of the knights.
Now, the desk on the right was horrid by comparison, as books and papers covered in dust were stacked nearly to the ceiling. Several books had been thrown about in a pile beside the desk along with a half-eaten loaf of bread that rested on top. It was hard for me to even identify the desk itself.
“Langston! How are you?” the young man who had been standing over the desk on the left asked, after finally realizing that we were here. Realizing that we had probably been here for a lot longer than we should have been, he quickly came over and shook Scott’s hand.
“I am good, Consul; And how are things with you?” Scott replied with his usual gruff voice.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“You know I can’t get the Head Consul off my ass. Otherwise, peachy,” the man said, before turning to Elysif. “And I see you brought this fine beauty. I don’t believe we have met, may I enquire about your name, miss?” he asked in a seductive tone.
“Elysif, and we have met. Several times, in fact. I believe you attempted to grope me once before, and the Head Consul broke your hand,” Elysif replied bluntly, as she seemed to be very annoyed.
The man took a step back with his mouth agape in unbelievable shock. “I would never do such a thing,” he said in disbelief, before a book flew across the room and hit him in the back of the head. “What was that for?”
“You know why,” A young woman said angrily, stepping out from behind the pile of books on the disheveled desk. She looked like she had just woken up, and unlike the man who looked to be in his late twenties, she didn’t look much older than me. She had long golden hair tied in a single braid, and wore a loose worn white dress shirt that was tucked into some loose dark-brown pants barely held up by a belt. Her attire looked like it could be from the fourteen-hundreds, but there was no way that was the case. Excluding her attire, she was more toned than anyone in the room except for Scott.
“It’s good to see you again, Head Consul,” Scott said to the young woman with the same stride and tone as one who is greeting an annoying in-law. She didn’t seem to notice it, though.
“I apologize for his rudeness. Even after the thirteen hundred years that I’ve known him, he never learned the decency to act appropriately around women. My name is Mordred Pendragon, daughter of Arthur Pendragon, as well as Head Consul. And that fool of a Consul is Merlin,” the young woman said, introducing herself unceremoniously.
“I do apologize for coming without sending word first,” Scott said, respectfully this time.
“You don’t have to be so polite with us, Scott. This isn’t a meeting among the elite. Plus, I know you’re only acting as if you were behaved because you thought that I might not chew you out for not bringing us the past two months' worth of reports,” she replied, callously pointing out his act with a raised brow and an annoyed scowl.
“Is that all that you wished to speak with us about, Mordred?” Scott asked, reverting back to his usual crass tone. He seemed to have passed it off as a joke. Strangely, Mordred just let out a sigh of surrender without even attempting to properly scold him.
“We actually only wished to meet your new apprentice, since you haven’t done so already. However, if you could give us a report on what has been happening the past two months, that would be great.” It was obvious that Mordred was not happy for his lack of communication, but was gonna take whatever she could get.
“This is Lou Barrett, he is from the future, and I shall give you an oral report in a moment,” Scott said, ignoring her tone.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, extending my hand respectfully. Both of them looked at me with a wary look for a moment, before turning to Scott.
“Are you joking, Scott? You told us the same thing when you visited us last time, and we told you that it wasn’t possible,” Merlin asked curiously. He seemed to be more intrigued than in disbelief.
“No, I am not. Even Iscariot assured me that he is, in fact, from the future,” Scott stated with a shrug.
“I see, and how is Iscariot doing?” Merlin asked, changing the subject as if he had lost interest.
“He is doing great, he was recently able to seduce Mama Louise,” Scott said, but it was hard to tell if he was gloating or if he was disgusted. It seemed that Merlin’s quick change of conversation had hooked him into a much less important talk.
“Please don’t gloat about that. That woman is a demon. I feel bad for him, rather than enthusiastic,” Merlin said in a hushed voice. Though, we could all hear him.
“Ugh, these two are such a pain,” Mordred said to Elysif with a sigh.
“I understand, but men are men. All we can do is hope we find a well-mannered one,” Elysif replied.
“Not me, I’ve been single for most of my thirteen hundred years, and it’s been great. Though, how have you been, Elysif?”
"It has been good. I'm doing work on the side for Dolfly as always, I've had several patients within the past few months, and my 'other venture' has been steady. Though I really could use a break." Elysif said with an exhaustively forced smile.
"I see. The Table has been keeping me busy and my budget has been less than ideal."
“That's understandable, but shouldn’t you be talking to Lou? He is the one you wanted to see,” Elysif asked, as I was awkwardly standing right there. She then left our little circle to join Scott and Merlin’s.
“Ah, yes, sorry about that. So you're from the future? What is it like?” Mordred asked with an unconvinced tone, before finally shaking my hand.
“Technology and medicine have vastly improved, and half of the world wants to kill each other,” I answered honestly. I didn’t have much else to say. Was I even allowed to tell them about certain things? What was safe to talk about and what wasn’t? Time travel really is confusing when there isn’t a guide or set of rules.
“Well, at least world politics haven’t changed,” she said with a humoured chuckle. She seemed to be a lot more laid back than I figured a honor-bound knight of the Round table would be. Perhaps, it was the age that made her like this? No. I can’t exactly believe her statement without questioning it, can I? Although… I am a time traveler, so it would be proper to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“True, but are you really the same Mordred from the story of King Arthur and Excalibur?” I asked. She leaned back against her unorganized desk with a yawn before answering.
“Yes, I am,” she said with a sigh, as if she were tired of people asking her that. I could understand if she was. That said, there was something else that didn’t make sense.
“But I thought Mordred was a traitor to Arthur and… a man?” I asked, a bit confused. She looked as if she were about to try laughing the question off, but she stopped herself before answering.
“A common misconception. One of the many dramatic additions to my father's tale was my betrayal. Though, the part about me being a man is true in a sense. I had been pretending to be a man through most of my time as a knight of the Round Table,” she said with an annoyed look. She was most definitely tired of making that correction.
“That makes sense, but how are you alive today?” I asked, as I was unable to wrap my head around it.
“Merlin is a great wizard, and one of the few remaining Elder Ones. As such, we have been staying youthful until we can complete our mission. In simple terms, you could say that Merlin is immortal to a degree, and he is sharing that power with me,” Mordred explained.
“And what mission is that?” I asked, as I had no clue what the Table’s work statement was at all. I only joined them because of Scott’s threats and my lack of options. It would really suck if I found out now that I was working for the baddies.
“The same mission my father had; To create peace between the humans and the creatures that live in our shadows,” Mordred stated with a proud, knightly demeanor. This highly contrasted her previous mellow tone and body language.
I stood there a moment, before replying. Though, I thought that they had already achieved that goal. I mean, humans and the supernatural seem to get along as they are. “That seems like an excellent goal. And excuse my rudeness, but have you not already done that?”
She strutted over to her dirty desk, and pulled a book out of the pile, the one with the loaf of bread on it. She opened it up and flipped through several pages, before handing it to me. On the page she had it opened was a painting of several knights fighting against different monsters, and on the left corner were several inhuman creatures shaking hands or whatever they had with a few knights. “This painting is from my father's time. We haven’t changed in over thirteen hundred years. We’ll fight creatures who refuse to make peace, while making peace with others who want our help. As such, we have yet to even scratch the surface of our mission. We may have spread far and wide, but we are spread thin,” Mordred said, as her face turned somber, and the proud, knightly demeanor that had begun to show, vanished.
“I guess you’re right. Until humans and the supernatural can make peace and live together as one, we can’t truly have peace,” I replied, as I could see where she was going with this.
“We want that as well, but many creatures of the night want to stay hidden from human knowledge. They would rather pretend to be human than risk being killed by them as a monster, which is a safer option. Plus, many creatures agree that if the humans suddenly knew of their existence on a global scale, it could risk starting a war. We agree with there being the threat of war over this, so we do what we can,” she said, taking the book from my hand and throwing it back onto the pile.
“Then, how will you complete your mission?” I asked.
“We don’t know yet. Merlin thinks there might be a way, but it will take some time. And despite how he acts, he is a certifiable genius. He just has some… quirks,” Mordred said, right before we both looked over at Merlin.
“I see,” I said, as I saw him attempting to juggle books for no reason. Of course, right as I looked at him, he messed up and dropped two of the books on the ground. The other fell on Scott’s head, to our amusement. I couldn’t help but chuckle, but neither could Mordred. Once we had stopped chuckling, Scott stepped away from Elysif and Merlin who were now discussing something related to magic.
“So, about that report?” Mordred asked Scott as he joined our circle. She seemed a bit more impatient with him than others. I wonder why. Though that is none of my business, so I won’t ask.
“Crap, I had hoped that you had forgotten about that,” he replied. Mordred, in reply, crossed her arms like a mother who was about to scold her child for misbehaving. He quickly gave in, as he knew that look well.
“Okay, okay. Not much happened in the past two months. Other than our emergency quest from Mama Louise, we have only had a few minor skirmishes. Nothing new to say on our Changeling friend, and there are no Changeling groups in London I can ask about its whereabouts. Even if I did have one to talk to, they aren’t exactly the most cooperative bunch,” he explained with an apologetic tone.
“I also heard that you saw Sir Micheal,,,?” Mordred said, inquisitively.
“Well, yes, but actually, no. I saw a masked man who looked like he could have been Sir Micheal. I don’t know if it was THE Sir Micheal, but I do know that he saved both mine and Lou’s lives by chasing after that Changeling the night we were attacked. I did send a report about the incident, so that shouldn’t be an issue,” Scott said.
“You misunderstand. We were happy that you managed to send a report in on time, but the report we received had no mention of this masked man or Sir Micheal. Why is that?” Mordred asked, as if this was an interrogation from a parent that found out their child had committed a crime.
“To be honest, Mordred, I don’t entirely believe that Sir Micheal is still alive, nor do I believe that there is a secret organization related to him that works against the Table in secret. If there was more information, which I don't know about, then I’d probably believe such ideas,” Scott said honestly.
“You don’t believe it because we haven’t told you everything, is that right?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow. She seemed to be getting a bit pissed off, to me, but Scott was either too dense to notice, or lacking any fear.
“I don’t believe it because I have yet to see tangible proof,” Scott answered sternly.
“I cannot show you any proof, but I can tell you information that only me and Merlin have known about him, since we were there at the Round Table when he was one of us,” Mordred said with a bit of a forgiving and defeated sigh.
“Why are you going to tell me if you have yet to tell anyone else?” Scott asked curiously, with a bit of doubt on his tongue.
“Because we want him dead—no—I want him dead, after what he did to me and my father. If telling you will make you believe, then so be it. At the very least, you’ll understand why I want him dead, and why I see him as such a threat,” she said, clenching her fists in a fit of rage that she was cleverly masking from her tone.
I kept my mouth shut as they spoke. With every word they said, I was feeling more and more like a third wheel. Merlin and Elysif were talking about magic I didn’t understand on the opposite side of the room, while Mordred and Scott were discussing an Arthurian legend. I, on the other hand, was stuck trying to listen to both conversations. Sadly, Merlin and Elysif’s conversation consisted of magical terminology that I couldn’t understand. With this being the case, I just stood quietly and listened to Mordred and Scott.
“During the time of King Arthur, a masked man was found in a small village that had been attacked by monsters. He had saved almost all the villagers by fighting off over three hundred creatures before my father and his knights could arrive,” Mordred said. She said it as if she was there, reminiscing in the memory.
“I had thought that Sir Micheal was a traveling monster hunter, who trained with the Elder ones and rulers of Fae, Oberon and Titania. Arthur allowed him to join the Round Table after he beat him in combat. But wasn’t he a sorcerer or something similar?” Scott asked.
“No, the part about him being a wandering monster hunter was true. The legends that you know are correct, but few know of what happened before that. As for whether he was a sorcerer or not, well, he had abilities similar to an Elder One, though he mainly fought with a blade. Specifically, the one forged for him by the Lady of the Lake,” Mordred answered.
“Then he must have been quite something,” Scott replied.
“He was. King Arthur took him to Camelot, and knighted him soon after. He was then sent out to battle very quickly, doing any manner of mission alongside my father. As part of his position and as a thank you from Arthur, the Lady of the Lake forged a sword for him that was named Claidheamh,” Mordred elaborated.
“And can Claidheamh do anything special? I don’t know that much about this kind of thing,” I asked, finally speaking up, as I was starting to grow bored o a third wheel.
“It is a sword capable of summoning armor that protects the wearer from magical attacks, and the blade itself could destroy, as well as absorb, magic to be released later,” Mordred explained as if she had memorized it.
“So it’s an anime protagonist's blade?” I replied with my knowledge of the future, forgetting that no one else in this time period would get the joke. Both Scott and Mordred looked at me with blank stares.
“I don’t know what that is,” Mordred said, confused.
“Neither do I. Maybe it’s a reference to something in the future?” Scott agreed with a shake of his head.
“Anyways, back to my story. After becoming a Knight of the round table, all of the Knights under my father’s command left to fight against a horde of Saxons. However, after a swift victory, my father and a few others, including Merlin and Sir Micheal, left to discuss the enemy's surrender. After the Saxons had surrendered, Sir Micheal stabbed my father through the back, and disappeared before Merlin and the other knight with them could capture him. He had gained King Arthur’s trust, as well as just about every knight in Camelot, before assassinating him. The Fae king then took my father after he was slain, but no one knows where they are now,” she finished. Merlin, noticing our conversation, ambled over to us.
“There was not a single footprint near Arthur’s body, except the ones from before, and I couldn’t track him with magic. It was as if he disappeared into thin air,” Merlin said in a somber tone, as if regretful of the whole situation.
“What else do you know about him? Because most people at the Table only know a little of what you said,” Scott asked.
“We know that he is practically immortal, as he keeps showing up every so often to attack us before disappearing again without a trace,” Merlin replied.
“Why do you think he’s immortal?” I asked.
“Because the mask he was wearing is cursed so that no living person can remove it, but the mask is also eating him alive. I only know that because he asked me if I could examine it while he was a knight. Somehow, he was repairing himself just as fast as the mask was destroying him,” Merlin spouted. There was obviously a bit of annoyance in his voice.
“Then how does he eat?” Elysif interjected.
“The mask could conform to its owner's needs, and would open up so that he could eat. It did come with the benefit of translating everything he heard or said. Of course, he also used it to give himself the most disturbing smile in order to scare his opponents. The only things it couldn’t do were reveal his face, or be removed,” Mordred said.
“Sounds like that mask is all negatives. What was he like before he betrayed you?” I asked.
Mordred and Merlin looked at each other, then looked at the three of us. “You could say he was a kind person who I wish I had gotten to know better...” Merlin answered.
“I could say the same, he was kind, and I was almost betrothed to him. I wouldn’t have been unhappy with it had it happened, but I was not ready for a married life, so I had my father rescind the betrothal. To my surprise at the time, Sir Micheal was mature about it, and easily accepted that I didn’t want to marry him,” she said, blushing a little. “But now I see that he didn’t wish to marry me because he was planning to kill my father the whole time,” she said, angrily, as she clenched her fist. Everyone in the room became awkwardly silent. Not because they didn't know what to say, but rather, because they didn’t want to piss off Mordred any further.
“I can see that that is a touchy subject. I won’t press on,” I said as I nervously rubbed my hands back and forth.
“Well, at any rate, we have discussed all we needed to, so please continue on with what you were originally intending to do,” Merlin said, shooing us out.
“Alright. Thank you for seeing us, Consul, Head Consul,” Scott said with a bow of his head, before walking towards the door. Elysif and I followed suit. We got past the door, and it automatically shut behind us, only showing the emblem of the dragon and the feather pen on the bare wall, which now made a lot of sense. It literally meant Pendragon.