Worth Your Tears

Chapter 2: Sacrificial Saviour

Chapter 2; Sacrificial Saviour
Arthur's PoV

     The dull hum of the fray had started to die down a little but still it droned on in the background. Now, a strong stench of flesh loomed around the battlefield, which was littered with the lifeless corpses of people, both foe and friend alike. In death, they all looked the same. Pitiful bodies that would never breathe again. Anger pulsed in my veins as I took in all the dead. Hundreds of men, all slaughtered or dying. Morgana would pay for starting this war; too many people had died as a result. Was wanting peace such a terrible sin?

     I stood in the quieter clearing, looking around for any living enemies.

    Behind me, I could hear the approaching sound of heavy footsteps and clanging armour. My grip on my sword tightened naturally and I spun around to face them, blade poised threateningly infront of my chest. For a split second, I was relieved at who I saw. Then that turned into a sense of twisted betrayal, anger and misery.

     Mordred.

     The little druid boy that I had helped save, alongside Morgana, Merlin and Gwen, back in the days of friendship. The friend that I had knighted after he saved my life. The young man who I had made the mistake of trusting.

     His own sword was held out defensively infront of him and I knew at once that he wasn't here as a friend.

     Without any warning, he thrust his weapon toward me and I mirrored, our swords meeting brutally with a sharp clink. I pulled it down, deflecting the attack, then swiped toward his shoulder, which he too blocked. I trained him too well. L

     For a heartbeat, we remained still, glaring into one another's eyes with a burning hatred. I could almost feel the fizzing anger that radiated from each of us.

     Then, caught off guard by my emotions, he lunged forward. I was too slow to deflect the attack because of how abruptly he had moved, and it was almost certain that he was going to pierce through my armour, when-

     “Ástríce!”

      A loud, powerful voice shouted and Mordred was flung backwards into the rocks. I turned and, sure enough, it was the old wizard again. That's twice he had saved my life today. He jogged toward us, his visible age clearly deceiving.

     I breathed heavily, catching my breath for a few seconds and looked up at him, curious.

     “Why are you on our side? I thought somebody like you would fight beside Morgana”

     “Because Arthur Pendragon, you are the once and future king. You will do only good…”

     His sentence had been cut off by the sound of tearing flesh and a grunt of pain. I could just about see Mordred standing behind him.

     Fuming, I stood to the side leapt infront of the sorcerer and forced my sword into Mordred's chest. We locked eye contact and the boy laughed anomalously.

     “At least I got Emrys” he wheezed, staring into my eyes without remorse. I pulled the blade out, noticing the red that stained the metal. He stumbled for a moment, before collapsing backward, his own sword landing on the rocks beside him. His chest rised and fell unsteadily, but I knew there was no hope for him. I'd stabbed him right through the chest. He would be dead by morning.

     I pivoted back around to check on the wizard. He was clutching at his stomach, just beneath the heart, his own breathe jittery and unstable. He to collapsed backward, clearly too weak to use his magic. I watched him glumly, painful guilt rising in my chest. This man had just sacrificed himself for me. Without him, I'd have been dead.

     I made the decision in the spot. I had to save him. It was unlikely that such an old man would recover from the fatal injury, but I had to at least try.