Challenge, Times Two With Only One Acceptance

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It has been, oh what, over one year since he walked in my doors. And for those few days I felt at peace, but now, all the commotion with Uther: the competitions between Knights, and the constant tension dealing with sorcery it has caused chaos that isn't easy to tame. It has taken a heavy toll on me, but I smile and push it to the side. The Blue Dragon is still open but the hours have been cut back to strictly the evening. During the day I travel out in the fields and summon a figure to fight and refresh my skills, when honestly; it's for all the stress and frustration I've cooped up inside. The population around this town has severely decreased due to the "King's" orders, and the Knights have invaded my tavern just to grab anyone who is suspected of magic with or without a full understanding or trial.

I find myself closing in, this is going too far. This witch hunt is hurting everyone. Not just those who have the gift but those who surrounded them with love and support.

They feel the fire their loved ones burn in.

They feel the water filling their lungs.

The feel the axe on their own necks.

And the dreaded moment:

When they don't raise their head in the flames to say one last word.

When they don't come back and break the water's surface.

When all goes silent, and then, a drop.

This has to stop. This must stop.

All the screaming I've endured, all the crying I've heard, all the excruciating sensations that one man has caused due to his fear of the unknown. A man who feasts off of it. Lives, breathes, and holds his kingdom to it. And if one subject breaks it, they are nothing but a living corpse in his eyes. An object that he can throw, tear apart, and put together again. He has no respect.

Why is our mountain range not in Uther's territory? Because of his views of magic. Uther and my father argued over everything when they would meet, they were two people who didn't give up their side of the story. No matter how right or wrong they were in the other's eyes.

Uther's story, magic is only used for evil and to regain control over the whole land.

My father's story, magic chooses the holder and they decide what to do with it.

There have been plenty of times when I was very young, I wanted to bust in their conference room and scream whatever was on my mind. But my mother caught me before it actually happened. But I feel if I ever had that chance to confront him, I'd leave him in silence and just stare away from him.

I thrust my sword into the ghost-like man and let out a wail that held all of my frustration. Birds fly from their nests, deer sprint into the forest and animals scuttle into their burrows. The air becomes hot and produces steam that forms a dense fog covering all the land. I kneel in that silver cloak as tears fall to the ground and quickly build a puddle. My voice holds all those who were lost to death and those who still live with regret and caution that shall haunt them wherever they travel with that one thought clawing at their mind.

When will they come for me?

When will it be my turn to face the fire, the water, or the steel?

I stand with shaking confidence and march towards the Blue Dragon.

"I'm going to do it. Though I should have done it a long time ago..."

I am going to stride into Camelot on my stallion and challenge Arthur. For the King wouldn't dare let his son accept a stranger's forced offer. Especially when they do not show their true identity. It is against the Knights code, but who cares. If they ask, I won't let them know. Let them burn, drown, and feel the anticipation and anxiety of who will win? Who is this traveler? Who is this?

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