𝕭𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝕺𝖓𝖊
𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: A high-school project gone wrong sends Astraea Aphelion fifteen centuries back in time, where she has to face a world of dragons, magic, and evil sorcerers. Luckily, she is not alone. In between hardships, she finds a...
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📍 Camelot
⏳ October, 503 AD
"Ha, that kinda looks like Tony's first ever Iron Man suit," I pointed out at Merlin, who was dressed in heavy armour. The outfit was a courtesy of Arthur, who wanted to use my friend as a punching bag to train for an upcoming tournament. "Ah yes, I noticed that too," the sorcerer replied sarcastically, which made me giggle and shake my head at him. I'd tried to show him the movies on my tablet, once, but he still was too freaked by the device. He knew the basics about the character, though, thanks to all my ramblings about the Avengers.
"What is she doing here?" Arthur asked with a frown as he approached us, his head nodding my way while his words were aimed at Merlin. "Moral support. And I have nothing better to do," I replied, patting the black-haired boy on the back. He smiled softly down at me and I gave him a wink. "Fine, just stay out of the way," the Prince ordered me with a pointed look. "Oh, darn! I was hoping to get stabbed by a sword!" I exclaimed, feigning a gasp. His captivating blue eyes narrowed at me as Merlin chuckled. "It's a joke, Ken," I clarified and went to sit on the grass, putting some distance between me and the boys.
Once Arthur got into his armour, him and my friend moved to the middle of the field, where Merlin's torture began. "Body, shield, body, shield," Arthur called out as he hit Merlin on the aforementioned areas with a wooden sword. "Head!" he suddenly yelled, and he hit the sorcerer on his helmet. "Ow!" the boy whined. "Come on, Merlin, you are not even trying!" the blond complained exasperatedly. "I am!"
The prince continued to piñata the heck out of Merlin until the latter fell to the ground, groaning in pain. I rushed to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, looking down at him in concern.
"You are braver than you look. Most servants collapse after the first blow," Arthur complimented? I don't know what to call it. But he was grinning down at my friend as he stood above us. "Are you really so bad at this that you need to train with helpless servants?" I asked the blond, glaring up at him. Perhaps attacking his ego would get him to find a fitter opponent and leave Merlin alone. He returned the angry stare for a few seconds before moving away.
"Is it over?" Merlin asked with hope in his voice. "That was just the warm up!" Camelot's heir exclaimed as he exchanged his sword for a mace. My friend groaned as he got up, with a bit of help from yours truly. "Sorry, I think I only made it worse," I apologised, biting my lip. "You tried," the dark-haired boy said reassuringly, but it didn't make me feel better.
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