Prologue

I was never a nice person to be around. Rather when I was young, though I was a bastard, I was the King's bastard and there was no second that passed without me mocking his servants and lesser vassals for the fact that I was better and lived better than them.

When the lords of the Wizard's Council arrived I saw in their stern faces the humiliation they felt for calling a bastard their prince for there was no one else to assume that title. I relished the opportunity to let gods that walked the earth know their future fate- To call me, a non-magical boy, their Lord.

Amusingly enough some of the children brought with them to familiarize themselves with the machinations of the court admired me and the confidence I walked around with, so I let them do the most demeaning of things 'to prove their loyalty' and let them fight amongst themselves to get in my good graces. In hindsight that was beyond foolish, but there was nothing to regret.

Yes, nothing to regret. Not even being spellbound and brought to an insane, foreign dark witch, who wanted the throne-my throne and let me become one of them. Not even being disfigured and scrambling to survive on a battlefield that she had me join to show how my father and ancestors failed to protect their lands.

Not even the look of silent remorse and hesitation as my father from his horse looked at what remained of a once moderately handsome young man, knowing full well that it was his so, that he parted with to keep peace with the wizards and now fought against.

It may sound sarcastic but it was true I felt no regret. I was happy despite being a fool. I was happy killing my captors and enslaving the witch Morgana, my mother, with the magical power she had given me. I was happy as people stared at my face in horror as I killed all that stood before me like an ancient spirit of slaughter, as I pillaged the homes and families I would otherwise have sworn to protect. I was happy defeating my father battle after battle, happy letting his subjects swear loyalty to the Angle-Saxons just so that they could live.

I was truly happy becoming the Dark Lord Phonoi of Angleland after killing Lord Merlin and making true my promise to the Wizard's Council come true. I was happy as I held more power than the kings that I had allowed to take this land and split it among themselves. I was happy even as I stood above my father's corpse knowing I would soon follow him wherever he went.

Maybe what they said in Rome was true and they would go to either Heaven or Hell? Not like it mattered, while Arthur Pendragon was a good king and debatably a good man he hadn't been a Christian.

"That he was not. Thee have not to care about that, Mordred Pendragon"

Suprised, both at the fact, that my thoughts were known and time had stopped-the blood dripping down my blade had halted in the air- I searched for the origin of the voice and replied "Dead men may have no need for names, but I prefer Phonoi nevertheless." I curbed my pride in front of someone that could read my mind undetected. I respected stronger people even when I had strived to be better than them.

It wasn't hard to come to the conclusion I was dead. I didn't feel any pain anymore, despite having my ribs crushed and I was strangely certain it wasn't the exhilaration typical of a victor nor my bloodlust clouding my mind and here I was talking to a disembodied voice.

"Thee haven't yet hath passed on and We won't allow thee to do so. We shalt give thee a task and boons once thee has accomplished what thee set out to do. In the future, We made the mistake of giving gifts to three wizards, who will slight us, to bring those folk to Us quickly. The slight was an illusion of Our powers."

Apparently, a being that can make time their bitch wants my help for something concerning their powers. I guess to bring or destroy the artifacts..

"Aye, I want thee to destroy Our own gifts before someone can gather those and should thee fail to do that, kill those folk. Unfortunately, I have to send thee merely seven years before someone can do that."

So not someone who made time their bitch but someone with a certain control over it and who can read my mind-nearly forgot that. Not very calming.

"As for what boons thee shall gain, thee shall retain thy memories after death without fail and to a lesser extent thy abilities in other lives. Furthermore, thee shall still have thy most important belongings. Most importantly thee shall truly have the chance to become a Lord of Magic."

There was no hesitation and no questions after those words. Whatever the catch would be, what did I have to lose anyway? What I was allowed to know I was already told, so why waste time-it didn't matter that time had stopped, the sentiment did. "Sure. When do I start?"