The soft padding of feet made their way across a cold stone floor by what could only have been described as a shadow. Moving through the darkness, weightless and silent steps danced through the palace halls shrouded by a moonlit sky. Making itself visible only when so desired, the shadowy creature gracefully moved from cover to cover, pillar to pillar in a deft fluid motion upon the sandstone. Swallowed by the heavy steps of palace guards, a shadow could move from point to point with incredible speed and accuracy.

Wind licked the sea of endless sand stretching its massive form throughout the distance, flakes of sand and stone making their way towards the palace and further masked the shadow’s steps with their hallowed sound.

Finally exposing its form for the eye to see, leaving the darkness of shadowy corners, this dancer of night was revealed to be a mere boy. Dressed in a shrouded, black tunic, this boy carried with him a weapon used only by those of unsavoury ilk. Curved and gilded with sapphires and gold, the boy’s blade would clearly note his royal status. A pretender? Truly, this boy could not be of noble blood, his wealthy appearance embracing him through the touch of coin rather than that of birth. A shadowy set of skills which brought him closer and closer towards the bedchamber of a nobleman, this boy named after the might of a lion found himself brought into light by a forced hand. Of course, no one else needed to die this night. No one but the target whose name was written on the contract would need to meet the Gods of the endless sky. However, as it was, guards were stationed to die for those they protected. Truly a sad ending for the otherwise innocent. “Would you offer me passage…?” Light and innocent, the voice making its way towards the two guards spoke of anything but a threat. However, gazing upon this child caused conflict within the mind of a soldier.

“What on earth…?” Taking a single step forth, the guard brought both hands to his halberd. “It’s a…!” Before the sentence would leave the man’s lips, he found the boy’s presence upon his skin with a bladed edge leaving a gaping wound across his throat. Such speed could never have been managed by mortal means, much less so by a slender, scrawny being such as the one who had achieved it. Through motions as fluid as a crashing wave, the inhuman boy evened the distance between himself and the remaining guard in but a moment, naught but a blurry after image remaining in place. This guard too met the sandstone and repainted the noble beige with death’s red kiss.

“Rest with the stars and the sun…” With a voice soft enough to caress the most savage of beasts, this child’s red eyes nearly glowed beneath the night’s cold sky. Human was not a word fitting his presence but rather vampire rang true. A small hand with fingers so thin gently pushed the gilded door open to reveal the bedchamber of his target, the revered councilman who had inquired the wrath of sins for his transgressions. Much like the path laid out for him, this boy moved with weightless and silent steps towards the large bed harbouring the hefty man whose riches could be weighed in girth and silk. A truly peaceful night he had, something he would now eternally embrace. “As it has been written…it shall be done…” With the grace of a cat, the boy moved his frame on top of the man, leaving his hand covering the councilman’s mouth before a pair of fangs sunk their way into his throat. “Drain him of every last drop…tribute for the blood which he has spilt…as it has been written, it will be done…” Twitching beneath the vampire’s massive strength, the target could do little but wait until his life faded into the snakelike fangs now bringing a cold, dark embrace to his final night.



Suddenly waking from his slumber, the vampiric boy shifted his eyes from left to right in a desperate attempt to pinpoint where he was, where he had woken from sleep. Yes, it was all a dream, a scene from past events playing out in his mind like an old ghost back to haunt him for his past misdeeds. Softly rubbing his face, Casper placed his feet on the floor just before laying notice to the kitten playfully jumping onto his thighs. “Hey, Fang…” A soft smile managed its way across the boy’s thin lips, his fingers carefully scratching the small creature behind the ears. Casper had found the kitten abandoned on the streets, a tiny being that would surely be trampled by life if not taken into the arms of another. Unable to leave the poor creature to its fate, Casper decided to bring it into the castle with him. There were no rules or laws dictating that a servant was not allowed to have pets, and these two would remind of each other. Fang and Casper were indeed of two different species, but they had similarities. People had always said that a pet reflects its owner, no? Standing from his bed, the vampiric boy reached for his tunic and slipped it over his torso before covering his legs with a pair of cotton pants. His chambers were incredibly small with a mere window granting light but he thought it rather cozy. Casper was never a large individual in body or presence and he found smaller spaces more comfortable. They were easier to keep in check.

Sliding into his boots, the boy tucked the bottom of his pants into them and carefully placed a hand beneath the little feline. “Time to work…” Not the best job in the world, a servant’s duties were at the very least peaceful. He didn’t have to kill anyone or fight on a daily basis.

Of course, Casper would never lock Fang into his chambers, but rather allowed the cat to roam the castle freely. No one appeared to have issues with such a decision and the vampire had noticed how the bookkeeper’s cat had taken a liking to the kitten. It was good that Fang acquired friends within the walls of Camelot for he appeared to have a few.

Opening the door to his chamber, Casper stepped outside and placed Fang on the floor. A new morning, a new day that the vampiric boy would need to prepare for. Reaching his hand forth to a bottle containing a curious red liquid, Casper uncorked the glass and placed the neck of the bottle against his lips before consuming its contents. “Thanks, Gwen…” Without his friend Guinevere, maintaining his presence in Camelot would be so much more difficult, an inconvenience, truly. He owed the woman a lot, he knew that much. He owed her a lot and he would eagerly repay her kindness with whatever request she inquired.

“Casper!” Upon leaving the small closet like room connected to his chambers, Casper walked into someone he had grown used to meeting in the mornings. Aiden, the healer shone like a bright sun no matter the time of day. He was Camelot’s own little ray of sunshine, wasn’t he?

“Aiden…” Casper returned tiredly, turning his eyes to the kitten approaching the blonde boy.

With a bright smile, Aiden lowered himself to his knees and embraced the feline lovingly. “Hehe, good morning, Fang. Are you prepared for the tournament, today?”

“Tournament…?” Casper raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly in confusion. Was there something else he had forgotten? Truly, his old age came with having to remember quite a lot.

“Yeah!” Aiden responded, his bright smile ever present on fair lips. “Don’t tell me you forgot, Cassy!”

“Might’ve…” The vampire returned, softly scratching the back of his head as he watched the healer stand with the kitten in his arms.

“Hehe, you have to remember these things, otherwise they’ll be displeased with you.” A stellar healer and physician at such a young age, Aiden was just like Gaius a respected part of the castle due to his trade.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s happened to me…”

“Hehe, maybe not but it’s better to avoid it!” Reaching his free hand towards Casper, the healer gently patted his shoulder and motioned towards the corridor beyond. “Want to walk there with me?”

“Sure…gotta’ make sure none of the kids cut themselves on the weapons…” Casper finished, lowering his gaze to the floor as the boys started their journey across the corridor. It was quite the marvellous event, something Casper wished he could be part of. After all, no deaths were to be expected, it was all a display of skill and was more akin to a sport than anything else. Alas, as a servant he could not expose those skills to others.

“Don’t let the knights hear that.” Aiden giggled before playfully hitting Casper’s arm. “Can I come with you to the armoury?”

“Alright”

“I’ll try not to cut myself.” The healer giggled once more before the two made a left towards the armoury. Without Casper there to supervise the combatants, they’d probably walk over themselves in search for the right weapons. They needed to get their hands on specific weaponry this day, after all. It was Casper’s responsibility that they did. Every participant needed to be signed into a ledger after they had acquired their equipment. Only a fool would believe that a royal tournament such as this went by without any structure or paperwork.

Soft sunlight worked it's way through the thick thatch of a large hut. Windows opened to the elements allowed even more of the betrayal. A soft breeze stirred the handing roots and herbs casting a light perfume to the place. The stone floor was covered with furs and woven rushers, and grass mats. Though none of these were allowed near the fireplace, still glowing slightly with the dying embers, a small cauldron above covered and hung over the once flames. Wood was stacked carefully to one side, enough to last a day. No more, no less. Hanging from a small wooden wheel suspended from the rafters were two rabbits still furry though they would never move again. Rough cabinets stood filled carefully with old books kept meticulously from the elements. Save for one.

As the sun invaded the humble abode to shine upon the pale skin of a young woman. Though, some would question calling her young, she preferred to be called so. Green eyes opened to blink against the sunlight, pushing herself to sitting on the tall stool Cerid smoothed the pages of the book she had been using as a pillow. The pages were slightly bent but the real tragdey was the smear of ink that was no doubt on her cheek. Biting her lip she thought on how to fix the damage, if it was possible even! After several minutes she gave a short shake of her head, a light chuckle at herself and looked upon the book once more. What a little fool she was for forgetting what she was! "Ascripe." She spoke the old word willing it to work. After several minutes, nothing happened. Cerid Arryl closed her eyes giving a frustrated hiss. How weak was she! To be stuck whispering words and spell for nothing to come of it! Giving a disgusted look a the ruined page before standing and reviving the fire. smoothing her skirts she pulled a rabbit to her, the throat of it already cut open.

Skinning it with practiced motions she mused over the things to do this day. A bathe was necessary, she disliked being uncleaned and a ink stain upon her face dictated that! Plus it would do no bad thing to give her clothes a good scrubbing. Beginning to gut the animal she set the unneeded parts aside. While she would not eat them, there were others who would. Her herbs would need tending too, and already it was later in the day than she liked for gathering them. Looking to the second rabbit she frowned. Perhaps hunting would be a good idea, it was a tug. A feeling that it would be a good idea. Though- she glanced over at the window as wings beat. A merlin perched on the sill, peering in with a inquisitive look.

"You are a picky creature, wanting fresh meat every day." The tiny woman laughed, tossing the bird a chunk of meat which it caught deftly. Yes, perhaps hunting wasn't so bad a idea. "Though if we do go hunting, I'm tempted to stalk deer. Too long have we had fish and rabbit. Bird as well." She glanced at the merlin, sliding the rabbit onto a spit to replace the cauldron. "Oh Whisper, I wished I was as powerful as mother. Able to speak but a word and have the magic work her will. Tis a shame she never was good at scrying or they might still live." Standing she walked back to the table, passing the neglected bed. Bracing her hands she tore the page from the book, her eyes burning with inner fire. How she hated Uther Pendragon! Betrayer and Oath-breaker! Her jaw stiffened as she turned away to tend to her breakfast again. Whisper, the merlin, watched the daily activities. The breakfast, the tending of herbs. It watched the annoyance of a rival for it's mistress's affection in the form of a black masked ferret. Taking flight as her lady left the cottage the bird swooped about their part of the forest, content with knowing all was going as it should.

Bolting through the city streets of Camelot, Merlin clutched the bag of fresh herbs for Gaius. It seemed life was just an endless repetition of chores, chores, and more chores! Prince Turniphead also needed his armor sparkling clean today, a process that could take forever. He muttered apologies as he almost accidentally knocked over an older man’s basket of cabbages. Time was running out and he wouldn’t be surprised if Arthur was already screeching for his presence. Why couldn’t Merlin have been born royalty? Perhaps then he could make Arthur spend a day on the stocks. Grinning, he shook his head at such silly thoughts. He’d have to deal with Uther if he was Arthur and plus, who would protect the whole of Camelot?

Mornings were always difficult for Merlin, especially when he stayed up late flipping through his magic spellbook Gaius had given to him. He rubbed his slightly bagged eyes. Thankfully the weather was pleasant, the sun slowly beginning to shine across the beauty of Camelot. Sometimes Merlin liked to just watch the life breathe through Camelot, people coming into town, children playing with each other, and parents going to work. Not that he had very much free time though, between being a servant (or slave) and saving Camelot, Merlin was extremely busy. How he did everything, Merlin didn’t even know.

“Gaius!” Merlin’s voice echoed across the physician’s room. Like always, the room was in chaos. Vials sat empty across the room, random powders and herbs sat in containers, and Gaius’s collection of books were scattered everywhere. One might think it was completely unorganized but both Gaius, Merlin, and his sister had no trouble locating things. Speaking of his sister and Gaius, no voice answered his as he entered the two’s bedroom in the back. “Hello? Anyone home?” Still no answer. Shrugging, he assumed the two were probably on Gaius’s daily run of giving medicines to patients. Merlin set down the bag of herbs on Gaius’s desk and hurried off to his next task.

Just as his foot rushed up the steps to the castle, Merlin clumsily slipped and fell forward. Just great.. Snickers came from the guards and Merlin couldn’t help but give them a cheeky grin. “Ah, must have slipped on something.” He silently nodded and stood right back up, wiping off his already dirty pants. Goodness, Merlin had just the luck today.

Making a pitstop at the kitchen, Merlin collected the prince’s royal breakfast. The delicious scent of fresh food filled his nostrils with delight, causing a loud rumble from his stomach to remind him of his puny breakfast of cheese and bread. Sometimes Merlin would secretly sneak a piece of food from Arthur’s meals. Of course the cabbage head took no notice of anything. Goodness, Arthur didn’t even noticed the time he served rat meat to him. Chuckling softly to himself, Merlin made his way out of the kitchens before one of the chefs scolded him for loitering too long

As much Merlin liked to pick fun at the prince, he cared for him, although he would never admit it. Despite any laws or social influences placed upon Camelot, the two had managed to form a bond of friendship. It was nice having a mate to discuss things and have fun from time to time, although most of their relationship consisted of Merlin cleaning up after Arthur. The only thing they could never talk about was his magic. One day, he hoped, he could tell Arthur everything and brag how many times he had saved his life. Like a wise dragon once told him, the two were like sides of a coin. Arthur was definitely the heads side though because his ego ran farther than all of Camelot’s lands. Merlin had never met someone as full of himself as Prince Arthur but he’d also never met someone as brave or merciful.

Slamming open the doors of the arrogant prince’s chambers, Merlin called out a loud cheer. “Rise and shine! Time for a new day has begun!” He carefully set the platter full of food down on Arthur’s table and opened the scarlet curtains, letting the sun shine directly on Prince Arthur’s tired face. “So let’s see here…. I need to wash your clothes, clean your armor, and clean your room. Is there anything else you need done for you?” Merlin gave Arthur a cheeky grin and waited for his response.

@Polyurethane

The sound of anything but heavy footsteps echoed its light ring throughout the stone corridors of the castle's massive shape. With the armory in sight, Aiden couldn't help but rub his chin in curiosity, his bright blue eyes turning to Casper for a moment before the boy tilted his head and analysed the situation a bit closer. "Wonder if he'll let me get to know him a bit more. Cassy's so...reserved." As the dark featured boy extended his hand and opened the heavy wooden door otherwise barring their path to weapons and armor, Aiden followed suit with curious eyes tracing across the countless blades and shields decorating both walls and stands. "Did you put all of these up?"

"Gotta' be doin' somethin'..." Indeed, being the keeper of the armory, Casper has proven his perfectionism more than once. He hasn't stayed his tongue when lashing out against those who attempted to weasel past his system and get their hands on a weapon without signing into the ledger, something which often got him in trouble. A lowly servant should after all not speak out of place, but Casper still had difficulties adjusting to the spot. Only a year has passed since he arrived within Camelot's walls in the guise of a servant. In the back of the large armory one could clearly see a row of bookshelves, each ledger neatly rowed up in chronological order.

"Is your father a smith, Casper?" Carefully tracing his finger against the dull side of an axe, Aiden's attention quite easily shifted from item to item. His attention span wasn't something one should neglect, of course. He was after all a physician, though Aiden had never truly understood weapons and as such, they interested him in a different way altogether.

"Huh...?" Reaching for the ledger furthest to the left, in the leftmost bookshelf, Casper placed the large collection of text on the wooden desk.

"Since you're in charge of taking care of the weapons."

"Nah..." Shaking his head, Casper's blood red eyes carefully traced the many lines within the ledger, analyzing each sentence. There was one blade which had not been returned yet, a blade rented by a Gregor Mane. "I'm just a hundred year old vampire who likes shiny shit..."

The way Casper stated that blunt piece of fact was flat in every possible way, almost as if he was telling the truth. Managing a soft string of laughter, Aiden couldn't help but playfully pat the Egyptian boy's shoulder and crossed his arms. "Yeah, and I'm a fairy!"

"Pretty sure they're smaller..." Dropping down on the chair placed by the desk, Casper reached for a quill and ink, dipping the feathered pen in the dark liquid before he continued to add a few notes to the ledger.

"Hehe, like you?"

"Nah, I'm vampire sized..."

"I don't think vampires have a specific si-..." A loud opening of the wooden door brought forth a large man dressed in heavy leather and a less than hygienic beard. It was quite obvious to the eyes if nothing else that he had not bathed in quite a while. Perhaps a traveler? His manners lacked much in terms of entrance and the man's brutish appearance did little in impressing the small vampire sitting at the end of the room.

"They told me I should have my weapon examined here." Dark and brutish, his voice matched the man's frame quite perfectly. Given the expression of disgust on Aiden's face, Casper was quite happy breath laid vacant with him.

"Uh-huh...whaddya' got...?" Raising his eyebrow, Casper leaned back in the seat and didn't appear to be in the least bit intimated by the man's large presence. Truly, the only location one could place him and be respectfully satisfied with the outcome was nothing short of a bandit crew. Aiden on the other hand backed up out of pure reflex, making his way behind Casper's chair.

""You're going to examine my weapon? Boy, you couldn't even lift it." The warrior patted the quite enormous sword sheathed by his waist, a weapon someone of Casper's stature would indeed have difficulties carrying.

"Luckily I have a big, strong man here to carry it for me..." The two locked a gaze upon the other, Casper oozing an uncomfortable presence once his unnaturally colored eyes met the soldier's green emeralds. Without uttering another word, the participant released his blade and placed it on the table with a loud huff, resuming to cross his arms as Casper went on to examine the weapon. A large blade indeed, the edge nicked and broken in several locations wearing the sword down quite a bit. The hilt showed the years of tear with cracks making its way through the wooden grip and the wrapping at the bottom of the blade to allow for half-swording barely remained in place. "Pick another one...big blades are over there..." This was supposed to be an extravagant tournament. None of the combatants were going to participate with nearly degenerated equipment.

"I ain't fighting without my sword! She's been with me since the beginning!" Slamming his hands down onto the table, Aiden jumped back in response and nearly swallowed his heart. Casper could clearly hear the boy's heavy beating from such a close distance.

"You wanna' be the one tellin' the King that ya' refuse to look your best in his event?" Raising an eyebrow at the man, Casper remained stiff like a board, his demeanor unmoved in the slightest. This lack of physical response had not gone by without notice as Aiden stared down at the vampire with wide eyes. This was not the time to mention it, however.

"Why you...!" Clenching his teeth, the participant was about to continue but Casper took the moment to cut him off.

"The Prince is also in the tourney, ya' know? Gonna' fight the Prince with that? You'll be shot with an arrow for darin' to show up lookin' like a vagabond...Savin' your life here, buddy..."

"Fine! Where did you say the big fucking blades were!?"

"Over yonder..." Casper motioned to the left, seeing how the participant walked off to pick a more suitable weapon for the trial to come.

"What was that...!?" Lowering his lips to Casper's ear, Aiden couldn't help but ask the question which had been spiraling within his head.

"Huh...?"

"That guy could kill us both with his bare hands...!" Shifting his eyes between the Egyptian boy and the tournamnet's participant, Aiden lowered himself further as if an attempt not to be spotted.

"I live dangerously..." Like always, Casper's words were flat and dry. It was almost impossible to hear if he was joking or not but it could only have been in jest, couldn't it?

"Here, then!" Returning to the desk, the large man presented the new blade he had picked out. He wrote his name in the ledger and left his beloved 'Darling' of a sword in Casper's care until the tournament was over. With the name Fletch Kagan now written in the ledger, the man left but didn't seem quite content in doing so. This was going to be one long day.

"Fighters from all over the fuckin' world are comin' here today...if you're stickin' around, expect more of what ya' just saw..."

"You seem to have handled it well enough. What did you do before you came here?" Aiden lowered himself to the table and sat down, his arms crossed as curious eyes once more peered at the vampire.

"Been...around..." The stories he could tell...they were never ending.

"Yeah, around. You seem to have been to scary places." It was a good guess, given Casper's complete indifference in the face of danger.

"Scary...? Yeah...a few..."



Though cold or warm, it mattered not against the skin of a vampire. The desert sand moved in tune with the endless winds, city streets now calming with the night's gentle embrace. This was quite the odd contract, though nothing Asad was a complete stranger to in his nearly twenty years behind the cloak on an assassin. Though, while there was a charm in moving through marvelous palaces with sandstone and marble decorating their beauty, there was something absolutely magical about the night sky. Countless stars were shining at an impossible distance, their faint light casting a stage for the moon to dance so gracefully. Moon, it was a word filled with grace itself, beauty and mystic all wrapped in a single silk covered bundle. Such was the name of Asad's blade, it's twin Night for what was the Moon without the Night?

Indeed, as was the task of an assassin, the young vampire found himself perched on top of a tower with curious eyes tracing the movements below. Ladya, it was the name of a woman whom had crossed one too many paths with her wicked deeds. Slaves were indeed prominent in the Egyptian society but there was an unspoken rule that some respect was to be shown towards the human skin, a rule she had defiled with demonic and monstrous efforts. Was her crime that of the flesh, or of a spiritual nature? Truly, this was ritualistic on only a madman's level. The Pharaoh wasn't known for being tolerant of other religions but his own, however this contract did not come from him. Make no mistake, even the Pharaoh will send a request to the Sand Snakes for that was their name. Hidden in the shadows and acting through blade and grace, these masterful assassins were known as a force throughout Egypt but none had been said to have seen them. It was speculated that they were not even human, for such a being could not manage their creed.

Though a Sand Snake does not ask questions, an employer with such a grieve stricken heart as the current contract entailed would gladly share their story. Was Ladya's sins that of a religious nature? A desperate attempt to conjure a false God? No, it truly was not, for this sin laid deep within the skin and bone of a beating heart. That of the flesh, Ladya's sin was drenched in the blood of curiosity and insanity.

A noble woman by every account, her habits followed what would be expected of one such as herself. She attended gatherings with other nobles quite frequently, enjoying the social development which had followed her life since birth. Though possessing the responsibilities of her wealth, the end of each day would bring her into the basement of her magnificent home. Indeed, stalking this target had been a task like so many but what laid hidden at the end of this journey was enough to force pause even from a vampire trading in death.

Asad ascended to his feet, effortlessly leaping from building to building, rooftop to rooftop on a straight path to Ladya's home. It was time to enter her domain and set the employer's dream to fruition. Now, Ladya was not the only target. Her guards were just as guilty. They knew what their mistress had been doing but did nothing to stop her horrific deeds. One could argue their innocence but with their existence finding its way to the contract, their fates had been sealed. Lowering both hands to his thighs, Asad drew his blades in a fluid motion as the boy made a final leap through a window allowing passage. A guard had been stationed by the open slot, dotting his end when the vampiric assassin skillfully sunk both blades into the man's neck upon reaching the window. As the man's large body met the floor, Asad rolled back to his feet like a cat which had just met the ground with eager paws.

"Snake...!" One guard remained on the top floor, his blade swinging viciously towards the boy who danced between the strikes masterfully. With impressive finesse, Asad twirled his body and fainted the next attack, rather landing his own to the guard's leg. A deep wound now found its way to the surface, forcing him to a knee. "M-monster!" Now defenseless beneath the assassin's blade, the man met his end at an edge forcing its way through his throat.

Was this a contract that involved stealth, more effort would have been put into the shadows but as it was, blood was desired. Moving to the stairs, Asad noticed how another three guards came running towards the sound of combat. Lunging forth like a deadly arrow launched from a bow, the assassin displayed his vampiric feats as the power and speed from the lunge left naught but blurry image mid air. His blade made its mark thrice over in a powerful swing before the boy found himself at the bottom of the stairs, three guards tumbling down to the first step. Only one individual remained, the crown princess of this story.

She had not heard the song of battle, just like Asad had not heard the screams from below. The thick stone door barring his path on the lower level dotted the basement's location. Though, getting through this passage was no impossibility. Carefully placing his hand upon the stone walls, the boy allowed his fingertips to trace the hard surface until he finally heard a click. Indeed, the most satisfying click lead to the hidden door unlocking from place and glided into the wall. Making his way through the darkness, Asad allowed a whiff of air to pass through his nose. It presented the smell of blood and other bodily fluids much less appealing. The stairs he walked upon lead deep into the ground, something akin to a tomb for that was what it truly had become.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Asad allowed his eyes to linger upon the sight. The stench was ever thicker here, a reminder that he seldom chose to breathe. The sound of bones snapping, flesh tearing and screams filling the stone confines drew a very clear picture. Naught but a silken drape covered the horrors beyond, Asad's silent feet bringing him past a soft fabric to reveal the gut wrenching scene. Slaves in abundance, their bodies had been torn apart, limbs and organs stitched onto foreign body parts to create abysmal, misshapen creatures. A madwoman's attempt at science, her curiosity bringing a hellish nightmare to life with slaves having been tortured beyond imagination simply because this woman wanted to see their reaction to the treatment. Cages were their only respite, a place where they rested before she returned the following night to continue her experiments. Playthings, that was all they were, playthings for a mad child completely void of emotion and soul.

Having torn the skin from a slave's frame, Ladya was continuously bending and breaking his bones, something she had been doing for quite some time given the slave's gut wrenching appearance with limbs permanently stretched in inhuman ways. "Ladya Nalah..." The boy's soft voice was undoubtedly the only source of comfort these slaves, no, experiments of all ages had been granted. Children and elderly alike, she had gone too far.

"Wh-what!?" Turning to see the assassin at the entrance to her nightmarish dungeon, Ladya abruptly stopped her torture to lay eyes on the boy who had now entered her secret domain. "How did you get past my guards!?"

"Your name has been signed, thus is forfeit..." Taking another step, Asad's naked feet met the blood soaked stone, his advance not halting for a second. "Such is the contract...so shall it be done."

"W-wait...! I can make you rich! What are you paid? I'll triple it! These creatures are only slaves, they're not worth the life of a noble!"

"Allow me to show you...the worth of a noble's life..." Charging forth, the boy left a massive wound from shoulder to hip and saw how the peak of lunacy had brought this noble to floor she had soaked in blood. The task was complete, but there was still a lot of suffering to end. Indeed, the contract had been fulfilled, but Asad could not leave these people to suffer. Raising his blades once more, they would swing in the name of mercy.

---

---

It was quiet in the Royal Library today. I mean, it was always quiet, that was just the nature of a library, but this was different. His mentor, Geoffrey, wasn't present today, and so the scratching of his quill on paper was absent, as was his absentminded mumbling. No one from the court was present either, which was strange. Generally someone wanted to come in and get a book of some sorts. Curious, Clarke stood up and began to wander the empty halls of the library until he came across a window that overlooked the tournament field. Oh of course! Nobody is here cause the tournament is today!

With a mystery solved, Clarke made his way back to his room, a small dormitory that was right next to the Royal Library. He rarely saw other parts of the castle, and when he did, he was on Keeper's business, and had to rush. Such was the life of an apprentice. Back in his room, he quickly changed clothes, having been in the same outfit since the previous night. He'd been up late working, and when he had finished, he fell asleep as soon as he sat on his bed.

Content in knowing that he no longer looked like someone who rarely changed his clothes, he strolled through the castle, and out into the courtyard. Geoffrey wasn't there to keep him busy, and so he decided that fresh air would do him some good. He breathed in the smells of the town, smiling. As much as he loved books, spending all your time with them had it's downsides. He strolled throughout the town, towards the docks where he saw a large ship, a Roman ship. He furrowed his brow as he watched a young woman get into a carriage. He'd never met someone from Rome but he'd heard of their love for the mystics. Seers and the likes. A thought briefly flitted across his mind but he shot it down. Camelot was his home, and he couldn't ever leave for a cushier job. He sighed and began walking back to the castle.

They had been on his trail ever since he passed the border, England welcoming him with the warmth of silver and blade. Coming here was a major mistake, a destination he had decided since Japan harbored his feet. Two years in Albion did however yield a heavy coin purse due to the massive activity of dark gestalts. Mages, monsters, shades and curses circled this country like a plague and the king had outlawed each of these with a zeal. Of course, his decision to do so only elevated their aggression. This fanatical decision of caging the very nature of Albion's many creatures lead to the witch hunts and vampire crusades all the same. Now quite seasoned in the many paths of life, Casper had found himself in the blossoming country of merry old England, the sea of trees and towering castles. From the biting sand to the cherry blossoms of the east, and now to the blooming green of the magical country where dragons once ruled the skies, Casper could only pity what Albion had become. He remembered having visited the famed castle of Camelot many years prior with Ani as part of his training. Perhaps that was what brought him back to this place, the desire to return to his roots but not as far back as the Egyptian sands.

Placing his hand on the rotted wood of a long abandoned cabin located within the solitude of a forest clearing, Casper stepped inside the empty shack and allowed his eyes to scan the area for living souls. No heartbeats, no blood traveling through veins and no breaths eagerly leaving lungs, Casper was alone. Truly, it was what the boy had been hoping for. He dropped down to the wooden floor, the cracked planks shrieking beneath his light weight. "Shook em' off..." Like molten justice, the sting of silver felt like a torturous touch granted by hell itself. The boy's exposed forearm revealed the deep cut he had suffered at the hands of these hunters, the trackers whose sole purpose were to hunt down the undead. Truly, everyone calling themselves the children of death were weak to silver. Lycantropes suffered the same curse. "Fuck it hurts..." Clenching his teeth, no amount of attempts would heal the nearly crippling wound stretching across his skin and into the flesh.

He'd need to rest, though the boy had not been able to feed for quite a few days, his skin probably as pale as a winter night. Cold to the touch, laying fingers upon his skin would more than likely force anyone to recoil due to the icy chill. Tired and at a loss of energy, Casper could only hope to shake the hunters off for long enough to manage some rest. The way he was now, he wouldn't be able to fight back in the slightest. Blood drenched blades were the only sign of retaliation and Casper had indeed managed to fell more than one hunter into their attempt to sever his head. Bringing the blades to his tongue, the boy desperately licked each edge in hopes of draining whatever nourishment resided within the sanguine liquid drenching the steel. Indeed, the blood allowed for some solace but it was far from enough.

Closing his eyes to the outside world, Casper balled up in a corner of the shed and hugged his knees tightly. It was times like this that reminded him of his actual age, the time when he was embraced by the kiss of a Lamia. He felt scared, tired and alone, three disastrous emotions which together lead to unwise decisions. Luck would however grace the boy albeit faintly as a few hours of sleep was granted to a tired and exhausted frame. This moment of peace was however broken asunder by heavy steps of armor and the toxic stench of silver. Shooting his eyes open, Casper quickly reached for his blades and threw himself out of the house when a large jar was tossed through the window. Silver Mist, a substance deadly to vampires in the most painful of ways. Even though he managed to dodge the main bulk of the Mist's effect, he felt how his skin burned beneath its aftermath. Flinching in pain, the boy clenched his teeth to prevent himself from screaming out and jolted back to his feet.

He nearly fell to a knee as he tried to stay up, seeing how a pack of three large men slowly approached him. Armed to the teeth in silver, stakes and weapons, they were a vampire's worst nightmare. "Just give up, fanger. We'll give you a quick death." The most dangerous out of the bunch, this appeared to be the leader. He wielded a bladed whip, something pulled out of a horror show, and each interconnected blade was made of pure silver. Casper hadn't tasted its sting just yet but he knew that he was about to. The remaining two were armed with silver swords, small one handed crossbows in the other hand.

"Piss off..." Gripping his blades tightly, Casper knew that there was no escape. He'd probably die here, but he was going to take these guys down with him.

"You heard the lad, he wants to do this the hard way!" With a large grin crossing the hunter's lips, his spinning whip headed straight for him. With a graceful dodge, Casper rolled to the side but soon found a silver bolt lodging itself in his arm. Screaming out in pain, he stumbled back but managed to deflect the next bolt aimed at his forehead. Without a second to spare, the boy conjured what remained of his strength and charged forth, clashing blades with the hunters in a dance of silver and steel. After a short trade of blows, Casper managed to get the better of his opponents and sliced a hunter across his legs, taking the moment to gracefully leap over him and left a gaping wound in his throat. Two remained, but the way things were going, Casper's frame wouldn't be able to carry him much further.

Avoiding the whip, he felt a sword's edge traveling across his chest and forced him down to his knee. Clenching his teeth, he couldn't allow this to be his end, not yet. Another blow came heading his way, the silver sword hammering down towards his neck. The small vampire moved out of the way and with a dexterous retaliation severed the hunter's arm from place before twirling behind him and left a deep wound across the man's spine. One hunter remained.

"You monster!" Whipping the boy with the bladed silver chain, the weapon left devastating wounds across Casper's body before it wrapped itself around his arm, tearing its way through his flesh. Pulling him closer, the hunter punched the boy square in the chest with silver knuckles and forced him down to the ground. Before Casper got a chance to respond, the hunter pulled a dagger out of its sheath and rammed it through the boy's stomach to pin him to the ground. Screaming out in anguish, Casper attempted to squirm out of the hunter's grip but it was impossible. "A shame a kid like you was taken by the curse but it makes no difference!"

"S-screw yourself...!" Feeling the silver edge of another dagger forcing its edge through his throat, Casper gasped in misery, his life now fleeting. Unless he did something, this was the end of his journey.

"Lay still! It will be over before you know it! Just need to get to the nape..."

"Get..." Struggling to push the hunter off, Casper delved into the deepest part of his darkness, the beast that resided within a vampire's blood thirsty soul. "Get....THE FUCK OFF OF ME!" Digging his fingers into the hunter's forearm, Casper completely ignored the burning pain of silver protecting the man's frame. Caving beneath the vampire's strength, the silver bracer was crushed under Casper's hand, his fingers burning at the touch, his skin searing. Hearing how the hunter was taken aback by the pain, Casper pulled the man closer and bit down into his throat, tearing off a large piece of it. With blood now leaking into Casper's mouth, the vampire's strength returned and he could throw the man off. This was not the end. Completely engulfed by a vampiric rage, the boy jumped onto the man and rammed his fist into the hunter's face repeatedly, crushing his visage. He grabbed hold of the whip lodged in his arm and tore it off, his skin nearly pulled along with it. Soon after the rage left him, the pain returned and Casper felt his strength fading rapidly. He managed to force a broken body further through the woods but eventually collapsed upon the moss covered ground.


Looking up at Gwen, Casper managed a soft smile and could only grin as he shifted his attention to Aiden who laughed softly in embarrassment. "S-sorry Gwen! Heh, I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached to my neck..."

"A physician who doesn't take care of his own health...that's friggin' hilarious..."

"I'm a busy guy!" Aiden shot back at the smaller boy. He picked the plate up and started eating the delicious breakfast lovely Gwen had put together for him and nodded to her in appreciation. "But this is delicious, Gwen! Thanks a lot, I owe you for taking care of me."

"She takes care of everyone..." Casper pitched in, his attention now solely on the young woman before them. "Without her, Camelot would fall apart...ya' know it would..."

"Hehe, so true!"

Though Casper was known for an expression of indifference, there were times when a completely different side of him shone through. They were quite rare and far in between, but Gwen had a tendency of pulling them forth. If it was intentional or not was yet to be seen, but her very presence brought a comfort to the boy many others had failed to achieve. As she brought forth the small doll she had made for him, Casper's eyes immediately widened with a large smile making its way across his lips. The vampiric boy nearly jumped out of his seat at the sight of the doll, his expression turning from a jaded young man to that of a child, if even for just a moment. He remembered all too well the moment they met, the moment when Gwen found him bleeding into the Slumber in the forest. She did not leave him to his own demise, she did not proclaim him dead and moved about her business, but rather she brought him in and nursed the boy back to health. Even after learning of his dark secret, she kept him close. Gwen had saved his life. That day when hunters nearly claimed it, Gwen had arrived like an angel of mercy and brought him back to life. Her act of kindness would never be forgotten, something Casper held close to his unbeating heart. Whenever he was in doubt, whenever he felt lost in this world, the mere thought of Gwen's selfless act reminded him that there was always something worth fighting for, always someone worth protecting. "Hehe, sweet!" Running around the table, Casper graciously accepted the doll and gave his beloved friend a tight hug. "Thanks, Gwen...love ya'!

"What...the hell!? Casper loves dolls that much!? Blinking in confusion, Aiden looked between the two wrapped in a loving hug. Casper wasn't as stone faced as he first thought, that was something shining through this scene quite clearly. Smiling Casper, it was almost cute, something that managed a soft expression on Aiden's face. It was rather...beautiful.

Returning to his seat, Casper placed his hands on the table with his eyes making their way to the ledger before him. Sitting besides Morgana and Gwen at the tournament sounded like a wonderful plan, although an issue remained. Casper would need to deal with everyone's weapons. He was unsure if he'd be able to attend, something leaning further to the realm of a negative outcome. If Casper left the armory, locked the door and attended the tournament, he'd leave everything highly unprotected and if a single weapon was stolen, it would be on his head. Indeed, the armory was never at risk like it was today with so many visitors in Camelot. "I'll try to be there, but can't make no promises..."

"Aw, how come, Cassy?" Finishing his meal, Aiden returned the plate to the table with the boy's bright blue eyes falling on the vampire.

"Gotta' take care of the weapons..." Not only would Casper like to watch the tournament but he would even enjoy attending, but a moment's pleasure was not going to live up to the endless string of complications arising from the act. Not only would he blow his cover, effectively ending the sanctuary Casper had found within Camelot's embrace, but he would also reveal the vampire's true nature in one way or the other, drawing himself public enemy number one. Uther wasn't exactly known for his kindness and broad sense of acceptance. "But you guys should enjoy it..."

"I was uhm..." Aiden began, lowering his gaze further as it met the floor. "Kind of hoping to watch it with you."

Tilting his head in slight confusion, the vampiric boy raised an eyebrow at his friend and managed a soft smile, though attempted to hide it from the others. "Heh...the hell does he mean by that...? Is Aiden tryin' somethin'...? Scratching the back of his head, Casper gently clicked his fingertips against the wooden table and rested his chin against an opened palm. "Were ya' now..."

"H-hey...! I didn't mean anything by it! I just wanted to watch the games with a friend!" Trying desperately to hide the heavy blushing now quite apparent on Aiden's fair cheeks, he quickly looked away with the boy's arms crossed. Casper on the other hand managed a grin, though didn't look straight at Aiden in fear of falling into the same seat.

"'Cause...if ya' were askin' me out, maybe I'd be a bit more inclined to come, ya' know?" Holding onto the plushy Gwen had made for him, the boy appeared more playful if not more comfortable with her by his side. It was safe to assume that the words leaving Casper's lips would be far from present was Gwen absent.

"C-Casper!" Aiden continued, now staring directly at the dark featured vampire with cheeks red like fresh tomatoes. "D-Don't talk like that! If anyone hears you..." Turning his eyes to Gwen, the boy looked between Casper and his sisterly figure. "Casper's just joking, I'm sure...heh..."

"God, relax..." Finally placing his hand on Aiden's forearm, the vampire caught his attention once more and met the healer's blue eyes with his own red rubies. "I'll lock the place up after everyone's done n' I'll join ya'. Shit, don't have a heart attack..." Casper had to admit, however, it was quite fun to toy with Aiden like this. There was undoubtedly some attraction beneath the surface and Casper knew that he felt something towards the other boy. The vampire had lived a long life and he knew what it felt like to be romantically attracted to another individual. He'd be lying to himself if he completely denied the strings which drew him closer to the mage.

"You really need to learn not to speak so blatantly, Cas..." Aiden managed a heavy breath. "So, you'll come...?"

"Yes, Aiden. I'll come. Swear it on my honor as a servant or whatever..." Seeing how more people started to pour into the armory, Casper's job would truly begin. After all the combatants registered themselves in the ledger, Casper would be able to slink away and join Gwen and Aiden. God knew the boys' 'friendly companionship' was a scene both of them were eager to write out.

Despite Merlin’s positive attitude, the arrogant prince began listing off ridiculous chores Merlin needed to do before the sun set. A deep sigh escaped his mouth as he stared at the prince with a plastered smile on his face. He knew Arthur took pleasure in making his life quite miserable, could see the slight smirk spreading across his lips.

A snarky comment was about to escape from Merlin’s mouth when the King of Camelot’s, Arthur’s father, thunderous voice echoed across the prince’s chambers. Bowing respectively, Merlin made sure his eyes kept directly to the floor. “Your Majesty.” He spoke, showing no indication of his familiar humorous tone. While Merlin was known for having a sarcastic sense of humour, he made sure to erase such behavior whenever in the presence of the king. Many of Merlin’s kin questioned his soft side when he allowed the very man, who had murdered and exiled those of magic, to live. Without a doubt, Merlin completely dislikes Uther and his views on magic but until Arthur was ready to take the throne, Uther must continue to be king. Merlin also believed Uther wasn’t an evil man. Despite his cruel ways, he showed a deep love for his son and would do anything he could to protect Camelot. Uther was not evil, he had simply been shown the wrong side of magic and chose to believe that magic was one sided and had no good. One day though, Merlin would help Arthur pick the better path and see beyond his father’s twisted view and understand that magic could be used for good. One day…

As the two talked, Merlin pretended not to listen but of course heard every word. A wave of stupidity passed over him and he realized he had forgotten all about the festival. Arthur is going to kill me… Thank goodness he had washed Arthur’s cloak the day before. Perhaps Merlin could have the day to have fun but knowing Arthur, he was almost sure that was impossible. He only begged that he wouldn’t be forced to wear the mortifying servant festive clothes. Those were absolutely the worst and simply no one, not even Merlin, could rock that look.

The moment Uther mentioned the Lady Seppia the tension between Arthur and his father began to rise. Merlin knew Arthur’s heart belonged to Gwen but he would never stand up to his father when the fate of the kingdom rested on his shoulders. Although, Merlin strongly believed that Arthur could change the rules for the better. Who said he couldn’t marry for love? At the mention of his name, Merlin perked up but simply shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t get between the two’s feud. It was one thing arguing with Arthur, but the king? He shivered at the thought.

An awkward silence filled the room as Arthur contemplated his father’s claims. Merlin didn’t quite understand all the rules royalty created. Looking at through his perspective, all it seemed to cause was complications and sorrow. As was expected, Arthur accepted his father’s terms and Merlin couldn’t help but pity the prince’s depressed gaze.

Arthur’s order to get dressed had Merlin bolting to the prince’s dresser. Everyday he could never understand how royalty could never dress themselves. It was simple, really. Merlin, Gaius, Gwen, and all of his people did it. Shaking his eye, Merlin pulled out Arthur’s finest robes and approached him near the bed. “Good thing I washed these a few days ago, eh?” He chirped,hoping to get Arthur’s spirits back up. It was no fun with a dull prince. “Come on. Smile, would ya? There’s a festival today!” After no response, Merlin shook his head in disappointment. “I prefer the arrogant prince to this pathetic look. I mean, look at you.” Sighing, Merlin took a seat beside Arthur on his extravagant bed.

“Look Arthur. You're Prince of Camelot and going to be King one day. Don’t you think you have the right to choose the one you love? Who do you think Camelot wants on the throne? Someone who listens and obeys to his father or one who marries for his heart, even if she is a serving girl. Now, time to get dressed!” Merlin walked over to the folding screen and waited for the prince to get off his bum.

@Polyurethane

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Clarke finally made his way back up to the library, having taken longer than usual due to a slight detour to check out all the new Roman things that we're being brought in. He had always been curious about exotic things, and so the Romans were like a godsend to him. Lying on the table at the entrance to the library were a pile of books. He recognized them as books on Roman culture and history. Next to them was a note, seemingly written by Geoff. "Clarke, bring these books to Prince Arthur. Uther wants him educated on our Roman guests." Sighing, Clarke picked up the books, four in all, and began his trek through the castle.

He arrived at Arthur's room just as Uther made his way in and he decided to wait. Uther terrified him if he was being honest, and he didn't much like being in his presence. He listened as Uther spoke to Arthur, and left him the news that Arthur and some girl named Seppia were to be wed. That must have been the girl in that carriage I saw. Well I don't really know why Arthur is so reluctant. She was beautiful. Like scary beautiful. Finally, Uther left, not even noticing the young librarian and so Clarke walked up to Arthur's open door.

He knocked on the wooden door lightly before walking on in. "Prince Arthur, I've got some books on the Romans that your father wanted me to deliver. Where should I set them," he said, holding the books out in front of him and giving a slight wave to Merlin.

_{@BlueAjah@Polyurethane}

Gwydion Arryl

"Gwydion!" The cellar bounced the voice of the inn's master, Tarris Syris, about the cold interior where the man's younger partner and live in bard and bouncer was stocking wine barrels. Green eye peered up at the short, blocky figure of Tarris in the cellar door. "We've got ah festival a'comin'! Ye set-"

White teeth flashed in a laid back smile. "Aye, I've set the better years towards the front. Easy reach." The deep voice of the former wander was all in good humor. Stepping up the steep and rickety stairs, he often wondered how they managed to bear one of his build. Stepping along lightly, he patted the shorter man on the shoulder. The festival had been forewarned to them by some friendly Guards that frequented their establishment and forewarned was fore armed. "Worry not! I've-"

"Got it all handled 'ave ye?" Tarris sighed in mock remorse. "You're givin' me naught to do laddy!" Both just chuckled, knowing it was most likely just as well. Tarris was a old, old man. Most things he couldn't do without help, though he still poured the ale and tended the bar while they paid a near-by pair of village sisters to cook for them and the inn. Often merely the night. While Gwydion wasn't the best cook, his food was passable. Tarris had been loathed to accept hope in his aging life, but hearing the poor lad's tale had made him all the more keen to accept Gwydion on as a partner. Having been a traveler himself before he opened The Griffon's Tankard, he knew the ailment of most mercenaries. Age brought a lack of limber body and that misfortune led to death. Plus the poor lad had near drank himself under the table in melancholy. Noting the day had been when he had last seen his sister's smiling face before he left. After a bit of wheedling, Tarris had learned that Gwydion had returned to find his sister missing and his family dead. Bandits had been Gwydion's reason. That and disease. "Heard any word on your sister?" The Tavern keeper wandered behind the bar arranging tankards.

Gwydion looked over at the faux griffon over the mantel, holding a tankard in it's beak that had seen better days. Tarris refused to removed it, claiming it was a lucky tankard. One he had won many a dice game with. "Nothing," His voice echoed with disappointment. "Twenty years... She may not even be alive." Even as he said that Gwydion knew the truth. Cerid was alive. He had seen her walk across the shale slope before he had taken the form of a fox and led their hunters off her trail. It had been later when he found the druid that he had learned she lived. She had trained some, but that had only accounted for near five of those years before she and her Druid teacher had wondered into their native kingdom again. Fifteen years she had been here, and he had looked here for five. Two of which had been at this tavern and the news had been rather relishing. Druids and magicians were sharp topics and when Uther sent out a hunt he knew. If that hunt was after his sister, he would offer his service, claiming the witch had wronged him. Perhaps that would work, or would it best to race ahead on the Mule? His horse was stabled in the inn's stable, as good as any guard dog. Wiping down a table the large warrior missed the sympathetic look that Tarris sent his way.

Arthur shook his head when he heard Merlin's words on the marriage. It wasn't as simple as that, he wasn't only obeying his father, he was obeying the king. Arthur allowed for Merlin to help him dress as he thought about this for a moment.

"Does this look like Rome, Merlin? It doesn't matter what the people want, what matters is the well being of Camelot as a whole. And the one in charge just so happens to be my father. So if he says I have to marry this woman then what am I to do? Say no? If I do that not only do I disgrace my family but I could put the whole of Camelot on bad terms with Rome, we don't need them as enemies. But you do have a point, there's a festival today, so at least something good will come of today." Arthur said half forcing a smile before standing from his bed.

Just then the librarian's apprentice knocked and entered the room with books on Rome. Arthur never was one for academics and the likes, he would much rather stick to the blade than read a book. More likely than not he would give these books not more than a quick glance through the pages. He looked around his room for a moment for a place to set them. He stood up and looked at the table with food on it. That was a perfect place for books.

"Merlin, take the dishes away so Clarke can set the books down there." He said pointing to the table. He looked down and double checked his clothes to make sure everything was in order, then looked back to Arthur. "Then when you've finished with that meet me in the courtyard. I have to go meet my new wife!" Arthur said with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Thank you Clarke go ahead and set them on the table once Merlin has cleaned it off." Arthur said as he strode past him.

As Arthur walked through the stone walls of Camelot he couldn't help but stress about this arranged marriage. He didn't want to marry the roman but he had no other choice. It wasn't long before he came to the steps of the castle where his father stood. He walked down the steps and stood next to his father in silence for a moment while he waited for the guests to arrive.

Nightmare tossed his head, striking the ground beneath his great hooves as he sensed his rider's anger. Green eyes darkened as the druid looked down on Camelot. On her shoulder the merlin gave a partial cry, fluttering wings in anticipation. Raising a hand to stroke the bird's feathers, the woman let out a breathe. People were streaming in and out, going about business as usual. Never mind the lives that were paid for them to have a satisfied king. "Síþ bescéawe, níedfréond." With a beat of wings the bird soared towards the rising towers, Cerid lifted her head proudly. "Soon, I shall have the power and you shall have nothing. Brytencyning eorðe mearhcofan." The horse tossed his head again, tugging at the reins. "Ai, ai." The red haired fury scolded. "We hunt soon enough, níedfréond! The chase shall begin." She laughed once more as the reins loosened in her grasp. The black horse took his head and turned from Camelot, racing through the bush in with a glee born of the running and the rush of air. Though she shouldn't condone this, Cerid laughed as urged her mount on. The thrill of the thunder of hooves filled her ears as she clung to Nightmare's neck. There would be vengence, but for now there was the glee of the hunt, of the running.

Sharply pulling up after a short time, both girl and horse paused hearing more it's kin through the emerald forest. Pausing she egged the stud on, slowly. Taking hesitant steps the horse paused as a party of riders came into view far below on the rough path. Camelot's symbol shone on the guard's livery. A feast was going on? They were lamenting their duty and talking wistfully of a feast for a potential wedding. Her lip curled in disgust, though Nightmare longed to shift under her angered hands he knew better. Easing the bow from her back as she set the reins in her teeth, hooking the string. They would not leave to see this feast. The jingle of horse harness and hooves, signaled three more joining the party. Too many to take on, but a arrow was notched on the string. Pausing she narrowed her eyes, too many to take on. Her best option was to flee. To separate one from the pack of human wolves.

But she had waited too late as one looked up calling in alarm, "Hoy there! Poacher!" Of course she was a poacher, a woman in hunting leathers and a bow of beauty. She rolled her eyes as she slid the arrow and bow away, setting Nightmare to a run. However the hellion had other ideas. Down the bank he crashed, to the path way and sent the nearest horse staggering to the side as he barreled into it's side. A quick nip and turn of his hooves, the stallion raced away. Behind her the guards gave chase. They were good riders and their horses fine, but she knew every inch of these woods since taking residence within them. Leading them away from her humble abode she played the fox in the merry hunt. Her horse surging and racing beneath her at his leisure. It took all her might to hold him to a reasonable speed. There was no reason to not lead them from her hut. Rather they look on the far side of the forest if they looked at all. Her hood thankfully sheltered her mass of red hair and face from their view. A small blessing.

But as time and the run wore on, she brought the horse to a pause, clinging to his back as he fought to keep running and not rest in the sheltered glen. A small cave made of the branches of thickets. The cover was dense enough she would not be spotted so easily and the brush about here sparse enough she could have gone any which way. As they passed the troop of guards slowed muttering indecisively to themselves. Straining her ears to hear their words after laying a soothing and stern hand on her mount's lathered neck, Cerid frowned deeply. They spoke of whether she was poacher, druid, or perhaps they had simply ran into a young noble lady who wasn't suppose to be out. Either way they looked at things, all agreed that it would be best to take it to their Captain and let the matter get sorted out. She reclined back in the saddle, the men leaving for the city. Poor men, she was glad she did not let her anger take their lives. Killing them would bring her no further to Uther. They were just pawns in a greater game and she was a fool to have considered their deaths worth it. Another part of her mind pointed out that they did work for Uther and if she was found out they would gladly hunt her down and slay her. Closing her eyes as the sound of hooves receded she berated herself. Was innocent life really meant to be spilled to get at Uther Pendragon? It had been a question she had warred herself with for near fifteen years. Lo, she still was no nearer the answer. Waiting a tad longer, she finally agreed no hunt was coming and set the black horse towards home. They would report her and all they would find would be a clever little peasant. It was time to turn her sight towards the illusionary magics. Yes, it was past time to do so.

Kornesin had awoken early that morn, as he does each day. He wakes up earlier than any of the nobles and is ready for the day in no more than an hour. His day consisted of following around the king and assisting in any matters in which the king had. Today they were to greet guests from foreign lands, and meet their Roman, soon to be, allies. He dressed in his finest clothes that day, he loved to make an impression. Of course everyone would be dressed in their finest garb today, with the festivities and such.

After adjusting his clothes, and brushing his shoulders off, Kornesin went for a walk around Camelot. He did this on occasion to keep up on what was happening around the city, and keep the king info. Although this early in the morning not a lot was going on. People were just waking up for the day, getting ready of course for the festival. After strolling along the streets of Camelot and finding nothing of interest, to him at least, he returned to the castle to find Uther.

He didn’t search long before heard Uther talking to Arthur just down the stone halls he was walking down. He approached the young prince’s room and saw Clarke standing outside of the room, waiting for the king to leave before he delivered these books on Rome it would appear. Not even speaking a word he simply stood next to the boy, placing his hands behind his back and holding his head high, while he too waited for the king to conclude his business with Arthur. While waiting he looked down at the young lad next to him and nodded after a moment as a greeting, then returned his head to the held high position it was before.

From what Kornesin was hearing, Uther was breaking the news to his son that he would be marrying Seppia, creating an alliance between Camelot and Rome. Arthur did not sound too pleased, but so was the life of a royal. After Arthur inadvertently agreed to the marriage, though he didn’t have a choice, Uther came out of Arthur’s room and made his way to the courtyard where they would be greeting their guests. Kornesin followed close behind. Once out on the courtyard, there he stood waiting for the guests to arrive.

The carriage which contained Seppia and her brother Seppius arrived in the courtyard of the castle. The carriage driver stepped down from the front of the carriage and patted the horses, giving them a treat. Arthur hesitated for a moment and turned to look at his father, before facing back to the carriage. He took a deep breath then made his way to the carriage to open the door for Seppia and Seppius, and welcome them to Camelot. He opened the door to the carriage and stepped aside, allowing Seppius to step out of the carriage first.

"Welcome to Camelot, I trust that your journey was safe." Arthur said to Seppius after he was out of the carriage. Then he stepped up and held his hand out for Seppia to take hold while she exited the carriage. Arthur was rather surprised at how beautiful she really was. For some reason he didn't expect her to be so pretty. Long and well kept black hair, brown eyes, and smooth pale skin. Her beauty was great but none the less, he had eyes for another and he still wasn't pleased about the marriage. Though unhappy he put on a smile to greet his future wife. She took his hand and lightly stepped out of the carriage. "My lady." He brought her hand up and gave it a light kiss. "It's good to see that you've arrived safely."

Merlin stayed quiet as Arthur rambled on about foolish, royal duties and what not. There was nothing that could convince him that selling his life away to a princess he didn’t love was in the kingdom’s best interests. Arthur would be king one day and if he wished it to be, the ways of Uther could be long forgotten. He was destined to create the world of Albion, a time of peace and prosperity. Why couldn’t he be destined to marry Gwen as well?

Raising his head up, Merlin found Clarke entering the room with a stack of books in his arms. The king wanted Arthur to read? Not even Merlin’s self control could stifle his chuckle. It would be a rare occasion to see the young Prince crack open a book, Merlin wondered if he had even touched one. A grin spread across his lips as he returned the wave to Clarke. The boy was quite young but something about him sparked nostalgia within Merlin. Memories of him first entering Camelot surged through his mind. Goodness, those were the days...

Arthur barked an order and Merlin hurried to remove the plates from the Prince’s table, raising an eyebrow at his comment about meeting the supposedly beautiful girl. What was Merlin going to do with him? Tsking at Arthur’s attitude, Merlin watched as he paraded past both him and Clarke to the courtyard. Well, the day was new and Merlin refused to let the prince’s awkward behavior ruin the festival for him.

The rising tension within the room quickly fell after the confused Prince left. “Well, that was a pleasant conversation.” Merlin joked, shrugging as he stared at the books Clake sat down. “I hope you don’t plan on Arthur reading those. Knowing him, he’ll probably make me retell all the information to him.” He shook his head playfully. While he absolutely hated completing the Prince’s chores, the two were still close friends. Merlin would do anything for Arthur, as he knew Arthur would do as well. “I better get back to the royal pain. See you around, Clarke.” And with that, Merlin was off to the kitchens to return the uneaten food, not before snagging a grape though. There was no point wasting food, right?

Mere moments later, Merlin was beside Arthur as the Royal carriage began strolling into the courtyard. Arthur leaped forward to help the lady, Seppia, step onto the floors of Camelot. The breath escaped Merlin as he took in the girl’s appearance. Beauty failed to represent the elegance and grace of the girl for she shined brighter than the scales of the Great Dragon when it touched the sunlight. He assumed it was similar to witnessing a child speak its first word or to find Arthur crack open a book. Seppia was absolutely stunning. Merlin stood, practically drooling, as Arthur took the woman’s hand and kissed it, welcoming her to Camelot. Ever the gentleman he was.

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