Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 133: Arthur
Ser Gareth stepped forward to block him, shield raised, sword swinging, but Morgan intercepted him first.
Her staff slammed into Gareth's shield with enough force to send the knight staggering sideways. The stone floor cracked beneath his feet.
Next, Lucan lunged at Harry with his florete, but Morgan was there again, her staff parrying the thin blade in a shower of sparks and responding by conjuring a powerful bolt of lightning that forced Ser Lucan to fall back.
"Your fight is with me," Morgan snarled at the knights.
Harry did not look back. He ran past the two knights, toward the massive black door. The runes on its surface pulsed faster as he approached, as if they were wary of his presence.
He raised Excalibur and swung.
The golden blade struck the door, producing a loud, sharp sound. The purple runes flared, trying to repel him, but Excalibur's light burned through them like fire through paper. The door cracked down the middle.
Harry kicked it open.
Harry stepped into the chamber. It was vast, far larger than he had expected…a natural cavern that had been carved into something resembling a throne room.
Purple torches lined the walls, their sickly light casting long, dancing shadows. At the far end, on a raised dais, was a throne carved from black stone.
And on that throne sat a figure.
Harry had imagined many things when he thought of facing Arthur again. A monster, a corpse, a shadow of the man he had once served. But the reality was worse than any of his imaginings.
The thing that rose from the throne could no longer be called human.
What had once been a tall and handsome man was now a gaunt, skeletal creature. Its skin was pale, almost translucent, stretched tightly over its prominent bones.
The remains of his royal armor clung to its body…they were tarnished, cracked, and stained with a black substance. His crown had been twisted and fused into his skull, acting now as a helmet of sorts.
But the eyes were the worst.
They glowed with a sickly purple light, burning like embers in hollow sockets. Those eyes fixed on Harry, and a smile spread across the thing's gaunt face…a smile that held no warmth, only centuries of hatred and madness.
Around its neck, hanging from a thick chain, a black stone pulsed with ominous light. The same purple mist that filled the chamber seemed to emanate from it.
"Merlin…" The voice was raspy, like stones grinding together. "I knew I would see you again one day."
Harry tightened his grip on Excalibur. The blade hummed…its golden runes were burning brighter in response to the corruption in the room.
"Arthur," Harry said, trying to sound calm and composed. "You look terrible." That was an understatement.
The creature that had once been King Arthur laughed. "Time will do that to a man. Especially one who refuses to die."
Harry took a step forward. "Why?…why any of this? The Argent Flame, all the attacks…you have killed countless innocents! What happened to the one who wanted to unite Britain? Who wanted peace? What happened to the king I once served?"
Arthur's purple eyes flared. He stepped down from the dais, his movements looking unnatural, like a puppet being pulled by invisible strings.
As he moved, the black stone hanging from his neck seemed to pulse faster.
Harry took notice of this.
"Peace?" Arthur spat. "There will be no peace in the world for as long as magic exists…while YOU exist, Merlin. You and your kind have ruined everything. My wife…my knights…even my own sister. It's all your fault."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "You are not making any sense, Arthur. I never betrayed you. Guinevere loved you, Lancelot was loyal, and Morgan—"
"Lies! Morgan betrayed me as well!" Arthur's voice rose, echoing off the stone walls. The purple mist thickened around him. "She would always choose magic over her own blood. She chose you over me…as for you, Merlin…you were supposed to be my advisor, my friend. But you were always more interested in your potions and spells…"
Harry felt a pressure building behind his eyes.
Arthur's emotional outburst appeared to have manifested some kind of mental attack.
He quickly located the point of origin…it was the black stone Arthur wore around his neck.
His eyes became fixated on it. There was something strange, but also familiar, about that stone.
The black stone was pulsating in a rhythm that seemed to match his own heartbeat.
And then…
His vision went black.
<><><><><><><><><><>
Suddenly, he found himself back in Camelot.
He stood in the great hall of the castle, watching a younger Arthur sit on his throne. The King's hand rested on a black stone hanging from his neck.
Harry recalled seeing the king wearing some strange necklace before, but he had never taken much notice of it.
But now he saw it clearly. The stone was doing something to Arthur. There were faint tendrils of shadow that curled from it, wrapping themselves around the King's fingers, seeping into his skin.
A woman entered the hall. It was Guinevere, beautiful as always. And behind her walked Lancelot with a confident smile. They greeted the king and went on to take their positions.
Arthur's jaw tightened, and the black stone pulsed.
At that moment, Harry could hear soft whispers in the air. They were coming from the stone and were directed at the king.
'She does not love you. He takes what is yours. They both mock you.'
The vision then shifted to a different scene.
Arthur stood on a balcony. Guinevere was lying on the floor, her eyes and mouth wide open…she was dead.
Finger marks could be seen on her delicate neck.
Arthur was looking at her with tears in his eyes.
The stone pulsed again.
'Good, the whore deserves it. Make them pay…make them all pay.'
There was another shift.
He saw Morgan, looking younger. Her face looked furious as Arthur screamed at her.
Accusations were being thrown...of magical practices, conspiracies, and betrayal.
Morgan was trying to warn Arthur that something was wrong with him, that he had changed, but the king was not in the mood to listen to her words.
Arthur lunged at her, and Morgan raised her staff in defense.
Another shift in scene…
This time, he saw himself as he was before. He walked through the halls of the castle, carrying some materials for his experiments.
Arthur was watching him with narrow eyes, but Merlin had never noticed this.
The black stone at his neck was pulsating, and whispers went into the king's ears.
'He loves your sister more than you, always has. He only cares about his spells and potions, not the kingdom and not you…he will betray you. You must kill…kill Merlin.'
The visions came faster. Arthur standing over the bodies of his own knights after the battle…dead by his hand, not by Mordred's. Arthur, picking up the broken half of Excalibur, stabbed Merlin in the back. The black stone was laughing now.
Harry gasped and stumbled backward, returning to the real world. All this time, he had been wondering about the cause of all of this...about the thing that made King Arthur change so much.
And now, he had finally found the answer.
His eyes went back to the twisted version of his old friend…
and to the black stone hanging from his neck.
Arthur was watching him, the purple eyes gleaming. "You see now? You understand?"