I Don't Get Mad

[Back To Mordred]

"She has a point. You are out of control," Eravon remarked, stirring his tea.

The spoon clinked softly against the cup before he took a sip.

Noticing my lack of response, he sighed. "Scowling won't make things easier, Mordred."

I looked away, taking in our surroundings.

This time, we were on the shore of a pristine lake, its water sparkling like turquoise.

It was an ideal setting for tea. I just wished my mood matched the scenery.

"Just why?" I murmured.

"Pardon?" Eravon asked, setting his cup down.

I met his sky-blue eyes. "Why aren't you mad at me?"

He arched an eyebrow. "And why should I be mad at you?"

"It's because," I started, then sighed. "You know how I've been. I'm out of control, pissing off a lot of people in the Shield."

Eravon chuckled. "I've lived for thousands of years. It would take more than your actions to make me angry."

"But I am a bit bothered by your change," he said, grabbing a donut and peering through its hole.

"You are slowly reverting to your old self, the hate-filled villainous bastard of King Arthur."

"Well, that is quite shocking!" I stared at him. "What could've caused such a change in me?" I asked in a mocking tone.

Eravon sighed. "Iris leaving is a huge blow, but you can see her after you leave the Shield."

He gave me a stern look. "But from what I know, to meet Iris again, there is the rather important requirement of staying alive."

"Your hatred toward the wraiths is consuming you. It's making you do unspeakable things that horrify even the hardiest Deathwalkers."

"You're diving into dangerous situations daily. Do you know how many times you were close to death?" he asked with a worried look.

I shrugged. "I've lost count. I honestly don't care, Eravon."

"And to be honest, it's not just Iris," I continued bitterly. "Felix, Damien, and many other good comrades I had are either dead or have disappeared."

I clenched my fist and banged the table, shaking the cutlery on it. "I'm just sick of it all," I said through gritted teeth.

Eravon leaned back, placing a hand on his chin, and gave me an understanding look. "I know, Mordred. It's hard. But you haven't lost everyone. You still have your Unit."

"And you're scared you will lose them as well. Isn't that why you increased the difficulty of their training and those aggressive spars?"

I sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if you can read minds."

Eravon smiled. "I told you, I have lots of experience."

"So please, Mordred. Control your rage and try not to die horribly. Look forward to seeing Iris again," he advised.

I shook my head. "She doesn't remember me, and you know why I can't let her remember her past with me. If she does, the horrors of her past would resurface."

Eravon sighed. "Your archaic way of thinking is resurfacing, Mordred. Iris is strong. Even before she lost her memories, she was living with the scars of her horrid past."

"And you know how messed up she was," I pointed out.

He nodded. "I do. But this is Iris. Whatever comes her way, she's fully capable of handling it."

Picking up his cup of tea, he said, "How about this? After you wake up, go seek out Vanis Hectus and apologize to her. That will quench your doubts."

I frowned. "What does that have to do with Iris?"

Eravon rolled his eyes. "Just do it."

I narrowed my eyes to discern anything from the man before me, but he remained as mysterious as ever.

"Should I really apologize?" I groaned.

Eravon gave me a dangerous smile. "Yep. You must."

I clicked my tongue. "Fine."

"Awesome! Now one more thing," he said, finishing his tea and standing up.

The next second, I fell back with a bloody nose.

"Ow! What the fuck, Eravon?"

The Immortal Warlock loomed over me with a calm yet menacing smile. He cracked his knuckles as the table disappeared, looking down at me.

"Well, we have had this same conversation over and over again every time you visit me, and you do not change," he stated while flexing his fingers.

"I think it's time I really drive in the lesson," he remarked with an unchanging smile and smacked his fist into his palm.

I instinctively backed away from him.

"What happened to 'I am thousands of years old and cannot get mad'?" I demanded, trying to get up from the ground.

"Oh, even I have my limits. I am a human after all," Eravon replied and snapped his fingers, and I suddenly found myself unable to move another inch.

"This dream world originates from your mind, but it utilizes my power. So I have authority over it," he explained, approaching closer.

"So let's start the lesson of learning how to not lose control."

I saw his fist coming at me with lightning speed and precision.

"Ah, fuck."

*******

"Hey there, sleeping beauty. Did you have a good nap?" a familiar voice drawled.

Amidst the pounding headache, I figured out my surroundings.

"Ava? What are you doing in my room?"

The young lady of Baskerville was sitting on a chair next to the wall behind my bed. She wore a simple grey tank top and her Deathwalker slacks.

She tilted her head. "The Vice Cap asked us to take turns watching over your handsome visage to make sure you don't rush off to the nearest training dummy and obliterate it."

She seemed amused by my present condition. "Hm? Even with that beauty sleep, you still have a headache?"

I massaged my head and groaned. "Yeah. I had a painful dream."

"Captain Iris?" she asked, her tone softening.

I winced. "Nah. I was getting beaten up."

"Now that is something I would love to watch," Ava said, getting up and heading over to my desk.

She poured a glass of water and handed it to me along with a painkiller. "Here. This should help."

"Thanks," I said, taking the medicine and emptying the glass.

Although it wasn't the healing of Althea, the medicine alleviated the headache a bit.

"How is everyone?" I asked, looking at Ava.

The amber flecks in her eyes glittered as she answered. "Alive, fortunately. Apollo lost both his legs and is now resting after having them reattached."

She pursed her lips before continuing as if processing her next words. "And Krystal is making card castles with a spear point lodged in her eye socket."

I stared at her in amazement. "How is that girl even alive?"

Ava shrugged. "I have no idea. Even the Doc was in shock."

I let out a sigh. Sometimes I wonder if Krystal Macleod is even human.

"Carlo and Artemis?" I inquired.

"Both are resting," Ava answered. "Artemis got her arm reattached as well."

I nodded. "That's good."

Getting up, I looked at her. "And what about you?"

Ava shuffled her feet under my gaze. It had only been a year since she arrived at the Shield, and I could already see numerous scars along her arms.

A quite horrific scar marred her forehead, which she tried to hide with her bangs or makeup.

For someone from the infamous Baskerville Family, known to display their scars with pride, Ava was surprisingly quite self-conscious, something I realized only after knowing her for some time.

She was still quite snarky with her aloof personality, but being a Deathwalker can bring out a person's inner self, no matter how hard they try to keep it hidden.

For Ava, she was scared of failure. Every injury she sustained on the battlefield was a failure on her part; every scar that marred her body was a mark of her failures.

It must've sucked being the sole heir of the Baskerville Family and being compared to the Hound.

From what I learned. Her father sent her to the Shield after she failed to be on the level of the Hound.

Duke Baskerville figured becoming a Deathwalker would make her powerful.

So essentially it is either surpass the Hound or die like a dog in Blood Valley.

Yeesh.

What is it with this world and shitty fathers? 

"No injuries today. Only a few scratches," she said with a proud smile.

"Impressive," I remarked, and she smirked.

"Anyway," I awkwardly scratched my cheek, "do you know where Vanis could be?"

Ava raised an eyebrow. "Why? Looking to finish what the Vice Captain stopped?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm not going to fight her."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Really?"

I raised my hands. "Honest. On my name as a Pendragon."

She gave me one more suspicious look before shrugging. "Fine. Captain Vanis is in the Tomb right now, according to my sources."

A faint smile tugged at my lips. "Your information network is impressive."

Ava smiled back. "It was the Vice Captain's idea. I'm just trying to help her with my experience as a Baskerville."

"Thanks, Ava," I nodded and put on my jacket before stepping out.

"Captain," she called out.

"Hm?" I turned around to see her looking at me with a serious expression.

"Captain Vanis controls the biggest information network in the North. Please don't piss her off," she advised.

I smiled at her. "Oh, don't worry. I won't."