Arthur sat at the front end of the small boat, head tilted to stare at the dark cloud filled sky, to avoid looking at the depressing scenery they as they flowed past. His stomach was one big knot, and the color had yet to return to flesh that felt cold and clammy. It seemed the more he fought the vision of Baalial’s blood pouring from the wound, the vibrations that ran up the sword into his hands as it struck bone, the more these things pressed all else out of his mind. He had killed. Taken a life.
On the opposite end, Merlyn sat watching the boy. He had known that he gave him the best advice he could, but deep inside, he did not expect the fight to go that smoothly. Pulling that sword from the stone meant Arthur had a destiny, but was no guarantee it would be fulfilled. Fortunately, Baalial was too proud, had become too dependent on his magic, and very much afraid of that sword.
Leaning forward, he spoke as calmly as he could. “There are things you should know about that man you killed.”
“He was your brother.” Arthur’s eyes remained on the sky above.
“Yes. My half-brother. We share the same father. My mother was human however, his, like our father, was a daemon. He is not dead though. Baalial that is. You killed his willing host, a man so corrupt he chose to be possessed by something so evil. Baalial’s tie to this world has been forcibly severed, his power greatly diminished for a long time to come.”
“Still, I took a life.”
“And probably saved millions with that same stroke of your sword. At least gave them a much greater chance for survival. Baalial is not just a daemon, he is a ruler of daemons, and an army of other creatures just as twisted inside. Baalial is First of the Nine, a group that all share the same father as I. They kill for the sake of killing. Torture and slaughter innocents for fun. They ruin all that is good, try and transform all things to be like them or destroy them. They work solely for the purpose of bringing my father into power over all of existence.
“The Nine have turned their attention fully on the Kingdom of the Fae. They have always longed to conquer it, have been planning for this time carefully for ages. Removing Baalial from the picture most likely will not alter what they have already set in motion, but it removes a very powerful weapon from their arsenal.”
Arthur finally lowered his gaze, now staring Merlyn directly in the eyes. “Kingdom of the Fae? Faeries and demons… has the world gone mad, or is it just I?”
“I know, it is a lot to take in. I forbid Sir Ector from teaching you of these things as real, though he knows well that they are. It was really your only chance of winning against Baalial.”
“How is this?”
“His favorite means of attack is illusion. There are few who can control such magic nearly as well as he. But to truly work in the manner he uses it, he needs two things from the victim. Fear and belief. You did not know enough to be afraid of him so he could not use that and turn it against you. And your mind was not open to the possibility of what he was trying to do. You kept it focused. Amazingly so. Also, it did not hurt that he is terrified of that sword, and was surprised to see it in your hands.”
“But there is no magic in this blade. You said so. Why would he fear it more than any other?”
“It was forged to fight daemons, with Baalial specifically in the mind of the master dwarf who forged it.”
“A dwarven sword then?”
“Indeed. It may look of steel, but it is mithril. Your father once aided the dwarves, when he was young and they under attack from the servants of the Nine. Baalial took the defeat personally, as he was in command of the army. He swore vengeance on your father. So the dwarves made that sword as a gift for him, to help protect him, and hopefully that he would kill Baalial with it. That is the only dwarven weapon ever made not imbued with any magic of any kind. Baalial can easily turn any magic against the wielder. That is why I could not face him, I do not know how to counter that.
“But that is another thing you should know about the man you killed. He was the one who tried to kill you on the night of your birth, taking your mother instead. He exploited your father’s weaknesses until he had destroyed all that your father built, and then killed your father. It was with his last few breaths, knowing he was about to die, that Uther drove the sword into the stone. As he did so, he uttered a curse against Baalial, and a promise for his ruined kingdom. Whoever withdrew the sword would take care of both for him.”
“So, in dying, my father gifted me with his burden.”
“So it seems, yes. But only if you choose to accept it. You could have walked away from fighting Baalial, and left me to it. You did not have to come with me at all, but the thought of helping others guided you here. You could walk away now if you wish, go home and be a squire to Kay, and perhaps one day be a knight yourself, and find someone worth serving. Even destiny is a choice. So what have you now, young Arthur? Return home, or come with me and discover how best we might try and save a faerie kingdom?”
“Where exactly are we going now, Merlyn, I need a good night’s sleep if I must fight. And some armor.”
Merlyn laid back as best he could in such cramped quarters and smiled a bit. No hesitation in Arthur’s response. The boy’s mind may question, but his heart knows no doubt. “You will get the best of both soon, Arthur. The best of both. This little boat takes us to Avalon.”
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