A silver mountain rose under my feet. A woman’s scream sent my heart racing with fear and a helpless desperation. A shadowy titan lumbered towards me as I staggered to my feet. A burning energy filled my body, and I pushed it out my lungs sore as a scream of helpless rage and pain ripped out of me. The ground shifted and shook as the mountain grew and grew.

The titan of shadow grew closer and closer. I shot into the air crimson lightning and black smoke wreathing my limbs. The titan of darkness was much faster than its size would have made you believe was possible it swatted me from the air. Its hand closed around me and began to squeeze my ribs and bones feeling like glass in its grip.

Ribs cracked and I screamed again in rage and pain and then…

---

My body was tense with fear and dread as I bolted upright. I was in an unfamiliar environment and felt vulnerable as I looked around me with an instinctive urge to summon Clarent to my hand.

“Easy there young man,” an elderly female voice said. “You took some nasty injuries don’t strain yourself to much.”

“Where am I?” I asked as I analyzed the woman.

Mistress Talsbrand, Gifted- humanoid/human, Veteran, Rank: 234

“I’m the royal healer,” the woman said. “Guinevere insisted that you were brought here after you went unconscious. You nearly bled out, I’m sorry but your armor couldn’t be repaired the castle smiths don’t even know how it was made in the first place they can’t even work with whatever its made out of.”

I waved my hand in a dismissive motion. “I’m not worried about the armor, is Guinevere all right?”

“Dutchess Guinevere is fine, she’s Hero rank and you were the one taking most of the hits,” Mistress Talsbrand said giving me a disapproving look for my familiar way of referring to Guinevere.

The scent of jasmine filled my nostrils as Guinevere stepped inside her eyes meeting mine with concern before turning to relief as I gave her a comforting wink to show I was alright.

“Your awake,” she said relieved. “The ball is going to take happen in five hours.”

“My lady,” Mistress Talsbrand said turning her back on me to face Guinevere. “You need to be careful; you can’t just drag this young man into that nest of vipers.”

“Don’t worry about me,” I said standing and pulling the outfit I had tailored the other day out of my storage pouch.

“I’m worried for Guinevere,” Mistress Talsbrand said. “Please don’t make bad choices out of desperation.”

“Thank you for caring about me,” Guinevere said politely. “But this is something I need to do, Ismael is my knight and won’t hide him from the world the more exposure he gets the less cheating can happen.”

“I think you underestimate how low your peers are willing to sink to.” Mistress Talsbrand said.

Guinevere stepped close to me kissing me on the cheek.

“I need to get ready,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the ballroom.”

She left and I was alone with Mistress Talsbrand.

“You don’t understand what your getting into,” Mistress Talsbrand said shaking her head. “I fear that girl’s motives for dragging you into this mess may not be what you…”

“I know she’s pregnant,” I cut her off.

“And your still going along with this?” Mistress Talsbrand asked surprised. “Has she told you who the father is?”

“Does it matter?” I asked. “I love Guinevere, I’m willing to fight and even die for her.”

“That ability of hers is a curse,” Mistress Talsbrand said with a sigh. “How many men are going to fall for her beauty and lose all sense and fall on their swords for her before this is over?”

“I was in love with Guinevere before she got that ability,” I said while pulling on my shirt.

I put on the second layer fixing the cuffs and collar as I stepped into the pair of leather boots. I ran a cleansing cloth over my face feeling the few days of unshaven stubble that had started to grow in giving me a five o’clock shadow. I stepped out of the medical ward into the palace halls. The scents of the palace were like a spice rack to my senses since I always had Bestial Senses active.

---

I wandered the halls looking at the images on display. I wandered into a library and looked over the rows of books on display. It was astounding reminding me of the time I’d visited the library of congress of a field trip but more ostentatious. I passed through the rows of books into an inner garden and stopped as I spotted a golden-haired woman holding and infant wandering among the ponds.

We were alone and she turned as she heard my footsteps. I recognized her as Arthur’s woman and turned to leave.

“Sir Ismael,” the woman called out.

I stopped. “Yes?” I asked.

“I wanted to thank you?” she said.

My brows furrowed. “What for?”

“My cousin, you saved her life, she was one of the people in the square you were defending,” she said.

I looked above her head to read her description and get her name. “Your welcome I suppose, I wasn’t focused on saving people, but I did what I could for those there.”

The baby made some sounds, and she bounced it in her arms, and he settled down again. “You seem somewhat uncomfortable around me Sir Ismael, have I done something to offend you?”

I sighed. “Its not you, it’s more who and what you represent.”

“Who I represent?” Lionor asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Your one of Arthur’s women, I am Guinevere’s Knight. My duty is to fight and defeat him from adding her to his harem.”

“I see,” Lionor said. “Well, I hope we can be friends even if the people we love are at odds with eachother.”

“I think they went passed at odds awhile ago,” I said. “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression of me and our relationship. We cannot be friends if you aren’t with me then you are against me. Ultimately your loyalties belong to your man, which they should, but it means we are directly opposed to eachother.”

Stolen story; please report.

Lionor didn’t have anything else to say to me as I left her behind. I continued to wander the halls as I the hours passed by, and I mapped out a good section of the palace. I began to hear music and moved towards it watching as coaches pulled up and elegant men and women got out and moved towards the palace gates.

Slipping into the crowd of people was easy as I went with the flow into a massive ballroom the size of a football stadium.

---

Guinevere growled in irritation and her handmaidens flinched back. The King had without her permission or even asking her selected a dress for her to match the outfit that Arthur would be wearing to the ball. The dress was mostly white and was quite elegant, matching her curves perfectly with silver and blue accents. Looking to the bed where the black and red dress she had picked out to match Mordred was, she sighed.

She had to pick her battles, and this wasn’t one worth fighting. Holding out her arms she let her handmaidens dress her. An elaborate silver necklace set with azure blue gemstones that matched her eyes was brought out.

“Your ring doesn’t match your necklace and diadem,” her handmaiden Mary said trying to slide it off her finger.

The ring given to her by Mordred didn’t budge an inch, only Guinevere could take it off and she pulled back her hand.

“I’ll be keeping it on,” she said gently but firmly, her words allowing for no argument. Her hair was woven into an elaborate braid that ran down her back to her waist. She looked into the mirror seeing the flawless beauty of her skin given to her by her latest ability. King Arthur had forbidden her from wearing her veil tonight so the allure of her features would be on display for all to see.

“Lets get this over with,” Guinevere said rising and exiting her chambers to go and join the nest of political vipers that awaited her.

---

I was an island in a sea of people. Women sashayed in elaborate tight fitting gowns or hung on the arm of the man who had attended with them. I stood apart seeing everything all at once with my Perception abilities active seeing not just was happening but what might as well. A live orchestra was playing their music somehow the same volume no matter where you were standing. Suddenly the music was cut off and the lights dimmed. A hush fell over the crowd as everyone turned to face the stairs where a spotlight had fallen.

Guinevere stepped into the light, and I could hear everyone lose their breath as they looked at her exposed face. She slowly and gracefully descended the stairs and the crowd reluctantly parted around its base. Arthur stepped out of the crowd he wore colors to match Guinevere and had a warm smile on his face as he looked at her.

It was time to crash this party.

I stepped forward through the crowd walking right past Arthur. The crowd stirred and the bold audaciousness of my actions as if I had slapped Arthur in the face. I bowed low as I extended my hand, feeling Guinevere slide hers into mine.

“My lady,” I said the words not just a greeting but a statement of ownership to all that could hear. This was my territory no matter what anyone else thought.

“My Knight,” Guinevere said smiling as I rose from my bow. “Thank you for attending me.”

“My pleasure,” I said.

The spell over the crowd broke as they chatter picked up again a thousand gossip stories spinning up. I could feel Arthur’s movement through the soles of my feet as he approached us. We were quickly surrounded, and I felt tense as I smelled my enemies all around me.

“Sir Ismael,” Vone said. “I didn’t know you were coming to this event; I didn’t think it was your sort of thing.”

“I love Events,” I said with a grin. “You’d have to trap me underground to get me to miss one.”

“Where are you from Sir Ismael?” Mira said her wings folded on her back to keep them from hitting the people around her. “Your voice sounds familiar.”

I shrugged. “I guess I just have one of those voices.”

---

Arthur grit his teeth. It was just like Guinevere to pull this sort of stunt lately. She hung on the knight’s arm, who he was Arthur didn’t know. He could understand how someone with her looks could have convinced someone to go along with this scheme of hers, but he couldn’t see why she had picked this man. He was dressed in fine clothes, but he still stood out like sore thumb in the way he moved and talked. His voice was definitely not “just one of those voices” it was like every word had a growl attached to it.

If he was honest with himself Arthur felt a bit self-conscious next to him. The man was obviously older and more mature with him the stubble across his face more that what Arthur could grow in a week so far. Arthur wasn’t used to being made to feel small, but this man stood around a head taller than him and his shoulders were broader his body covered in layers of heavy muscle.

Arthur pushed aside thoughts of the knight, turning to Guinevere. “Can I talk to you?” he asked.

“Of course,” Guinevere said making to motion to move. “What do you want to talk about?”

“In private,” Arthur said clenching his jaw.

“I have nothing to say to you that can’t be said in front of everyone,” Guinevere said the false cheerfulness vanishing from her tone replaced by an icy chill.

“But I do,” Arthur said.

Sir Ismael suddenly stiffened and turned to Guinevere. “Perhaps it would be best if you cleared things up with Prince Arthur, I have to say hello to an old friend.”

---

Guinevere felt Mordred squeeze her hand as he separated from her and disappeared into the crowd. She didn’t know what he meant by his words but trusted that he had a good reason. The crowd once more parted around her and Arthur by an unseen signal. She watched Lady Lionor guide Vone and Mira away and felt her fists tighten.

“What do you want?” she snapped at Arthur.

“Your making a fool of yourself,” Arthur said.

“No that would be you,” Guinevere responded coldly. “Parading your mistress around right in front of me and everyone while fighting for my hand.”

“Who is this knight?” Arthur asked, ignoring her words.

“A better man than you,” Guinevere said folding her arms over her chest.

“You know he can’t beat me,” Arthur said.

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Guinevere said with a savage smile.

“Its not that I’m worried, it’s embarrassing, there are already rumors going around about the two of you,” he said.

Guinevere stepped closer. “What makes you think they’re just rumors?” she whispered to him her voice as venomous as a spider.

“There’s no getting through to you is there?” Arthur asked. “I don’t want to do this anymore than you, but we must do…”

“Don’t speak to me about what’s best for our people,” Guinevere said. “I’ve heard enough of your lies and hypocrisy; you will meet Sir Ismael on the battlefield, until that day I never want to speak to you again.”

She turned on her heel and left him standing there. She scanned the room but couldn’t spot Mordred. A feminine arm encircled hers and a woman she hadn’t met before pulled her along into a circle of women.

“Dutchess Guinevere,” the woman said. “I’m sorry we haven’t met before, my name is Ammerila I am…”

“The Assassin,” Guinevere said disentangling herself from the other woman. The description over her head didn’t reveal she was a champion, but Guinevere recognized her name and description.

“Your surprisingly well informed,” Ammerila said and tilted her head. “You don’t seem to like me, why?”

“You mean other than the fact that you serve the Goddess of Assassination?” Guinevere asked. “I suppose the fact your yet another one of the women my betrothed has slept with might account for something.”

Guinevere looked around at the other women, Vone and Mira were there but Lady Lionor was absent. “I see the other whore couldn’t be bothered to stick around.”

Mira and Vone both looked shocked at her words.

“You really don’t seem to like her,” Mira said carefully as if she were dealing with a dangerous explosive.

“It’s not her personally,” Guinevere said. “Its more what she represents and the fact she’s a home wrecking bitch.”

“You don’t talk like everyone else I’ve met in this world,” Vone said. “You talk a bit like you were from earth.”

Guinevere shut her mouth realizing she may have been channeling a bit to much of Mordred right then.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m just not very happy with my circumstances with Arthur and have been taking them out on the rest of you, that was wrong of me.”

“Apology accepted,” Mira said taking Guinevere hand and giving it a quick squeeze.

“I can see how you would be emotionally frustrated,” Vone admitted.

The group of women moved finding an elevated alcove and sitting down.

“So…” Vone said filling the awkward silence that had formed. “When did you and Sir Ismael meet?”

“We met a few weeks before the tourney when I was… hunting monsters,” Guinevere said. “I asked him to enter the Tourney on my behalf.”

“You think he can beat Arthur?” Ammerila asked skeptically.

“Yes, I do,” Guinevere said flatly.

“I thought you were interested in him,” Mira said to Vone.

“He made it clear he…wasn’t interested in me,” Vone said.

Guinevere had to hide her smile by raising her glass of wine to her mouth.

“What do you two see in him?” Mira asked, looking at Ishmael skeptically, having spotted him across the room in a corner. “There are dozens of better-looking men in this room alone.”

“It’s not the way he looks,” Vone said. “It’s his… presence, his confidence, it’s like he’s a storm hiding in the skin of a man.”

“I prefer my knights a little less…barbaric,” Mira said shaking her head. “I don’t know why you prefer him over Arthur, Guinevere.”

“You mean besides the fact of his infidelity?” Guinevere asked shooting a glare at Ammerila as she spoke. She turned back to Mira ignoring the returning glare of the assassin. “Its also his maturity, Arthur is barely older than me and somehow less mature. Ismael on the other hand has life experiences and masculinity that frankly Arthur just lacks.”

“Where did Ismael run off to anyway?” Vone asked.

“He’s over there talking with lady Lionor,” Mira said and realized it might have been best to keep that to herself as she saw the flush of anger on Guinevere’s cheeks.