Is Someone Talking About me?

[Morgan]

I stopped at the front doors of the Dawn Palace and sighed.

"Merlin was right. He has changed."

Mordred is no longer the pitiful kid of the past. He has become calmer and colder. He stopped calling me sister. He even started referring to Father as His Majesty.

Maybe I shouldn't have treated him like that.

I shook my head.

No point in regretting it, It is already too late.

"I loathe you."

Those words echoed in my head and refused to be silent.

I clenched my fist, angry at myself. But what's the point? The damage has already been done.

Mordred seems to have severed his feeble connection to me. Even if he said that there is a chance for me to fix things, I know that is not entirely true.

I sighed. What a cruel sister am I?

All my life, I strived to be strong so that I could truly claim to be the eldest daughter of the legendary High King Arthur Pendragon.

I aced in every aspect. The epitome of perfection. I am a genius and I worked hard to achieve the power that I currently possess.

Survival of the fittest. That is what drives this world.

Respect the strong, help the weak to become strong, and ignore the weakest. I created and followed this ideal and it never failed me.

That is probably the reason why I never acknowledged Mordred's existence. If I accepted him, it would shatter my ideal.

In this world, where the strongest reign supreme and being the weakest is the same as being dead, Mordred would not last long.

His death was inevitable.

If I accepted and loved him, the pain of loss caused by his inevitable end would crush me. I will not be able to handle it.

So wouldn't it be better if I never acknowledged his existence? Isn't that better than grieving for an inevitable death?

I sighed. What a pathetic excuse, now that I think about it.

Mordred exceeded my expectations. He persevered for so long and did everything he could so that he could be acknowledged by me and Father.

Perhaps it is my pride or maybe it was my ironclad ideal where the weakest will not rise that made me turn a blind eye to his efforts.

How laughable. How petty.

For my stubborn ideals, I lost a dear brother.

Now I am starting to doubt the very ideals that formed the foundation of my life.

"I loathe you."

Mordred's words again echoed in my head and they refused to stop.

"I loathe you."

"I loathe you."

Stop. Please stop.

"Big sis? What are you doing here?"

A familiar voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Despite the thoughts swirling in my head, a smile appeared on my face as I faced the girl approaching me.

"Hey there, Elaine."

Many say that I look a lot like Father. But Elaine is the spitting image of Mother. Her beauty is unparalleled in the Kingdom.

She wore a light blue hoodie, blue jeans, and sneakers. Her wavy golden hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore a silver cross earring like mine on her left ear.

Her fair skin almost glowed under the morning sun.

"What are you doing here?", she asked again, looking suspicious. She looked behind me and quickly understood the situation.

"No way. You met Mordred?", she asked me, her sapphire blue eyes widened in disbelief.

I nodded, "It appears you have heard of his punishment."

Elaine nodded, "Yes I did. I planned to come here and offer that guy some help."

"Help?", I was confused.

What kind of help is she talking about?"

She nodded, "Yep. I would talk to Dad to lower Mordred's punishment if he begged me on his knees."

I was shocked by her words and stared at her.

"What?"

She nodded, "Yep. Exactly as you heard."

"Oh yeah. You must've already met him. Tell me, big sis, did he start yelling that he won't go? Did he beg you to talk to Dad?", Elaine looked at me in anticipation, looking forward to hearing me talk about how pathetic her brother was.

I knew she bullied and looked down on Mordred but never imagined it would be to this extent.

How should I answer her?

I shook my head and replied curtly, "No Elaine. He did none of those. Mordred accepted his punishment and is now getting ready to leave."

She began to laugh, "That's a good one, big sis."

But I remained silent and didn't join her. She noticed it quickly and stopped laughing.

"No way.", she said, raising her eyebrows, "He is going to the North?"

I nodded grimly.

"It can't be. He will die if he goes there!", Elaine exclaimed.

"And he has accepted it.", I said.

She moved past me but I held her hand, stopping her.

"Big sis! Let go of me !", she pulled against me.

"Where are you going?". I asked.

"To see him! I want to hear it from his mouth!", Elaine replied, struggling against my grip.

"He will not welcome you. He told me that he hates you."

She stopped struggling and looked at me confusedly, "He hates me?"

I nodded, "Shouldn't you be glad that he is leaving? After all, you hate him as well."

Elaine was shocked by my words, "I don't-"

"Then tell me, Elaine Pendragon.", I spoke seriously, "Why did you always bully Mordred until he sustained injuries?"

"Injuries?", She looked puzzled, "The royal healers patch him later, right?"

My eyes widened when I heard her response. Did she think that Mordred was being treated the same way as us?

"Elaine. The Dawn Palace doesn't have royal healers."

"Then how does he look fine afterward?"

"Gawain heals him but most of the time Mordred patches himself up."

A haunted look appeared on Elaine's beautiful face, "Then all those times I saw him wearing bandages. He wasn't wearing them to get attention?"

She violently let go of me and ran to the entrance of the Dawn Palace.

I wanted to call out to her but I stopped myself and sighed. Looks like she wants to see it for herself.

Mordred Pendragon has changed.

*******

[Arthur]

The doors to my office were flung open and an angry Guinevere stormed in.

Really angry.

"How could you do that, Arth?!"

She stood in front of my desk and glared at me with her bright blue eyes. Her long golden hair, usually an indicator of her mood is swaying with anger.

The simple white shirt and pants she wore complimented her slim figure. Her sleeves were rolled up, giving a good glimpse of the Phoenix tattoo on her left forearm.

She remains young despite the passage of time. After all, warlocks age very slowly.

But I guess it is not the right time to admire my wife's beauty.

"How can I do what?", I asked bluntly, fully knowing what she meant.

She narrowed her eyes, "Please don't play with me, Arth. This is about Mordred."

"He is getting punished for his actions, Vere."

"But sending him to the North to fight against the Tear? You are telling him to go die!", Guinevere yelled.

I looked at her with a neutral face, "It's either that or giving him over to the mercy of those three power-hungry Dukes. Also, please keep your voice down."

She gritted her teeth, "Death by execution is a better alternative than sending him to that hell. He's a thirteen-year-old! You are sending a thirteen-year-old to a deadly battlefield!"

"Well, this is not the first time that is happening. Is it? Duke Karsus has sent his illegitimate daughter there too."

"He is a cruel and cold man who never doesn't know sadness or any other emotion. Don't tell me you're following his example.", Guinevere glared at me.

I sighed, "I am not, Vere."

"Then why send Mordred to his death?"

I leaned back in my chair, "If he dies, then he is a weakling. At least he will be remembered as one of the brave soldiers who fought against the Tear. Better than a Failed Prince who got executed dishonorably."

Her face went dark, "So. That's your plan, huh? To have him killed on the battlefield? Is this about the prophecy?"

I frowned, "Prophecy?"

Guinevere's sapphire eyes gazed into mine, "Don't play dumb with me, Arth. Merlin saw something with her future sight on the day Morgause died."

"She saw something that would affect the entire world and Mordred is in the center of it. Sending him to the North is a way of eliminating a variable. Isn't it?"

I looked back into her eyes. I can't deny her reasoning but.

"I am sending him to the North because of his actions and because he is weak."

"Weak?", Guinevere was incredulous, "By the Incarni! He is the son of Morgause! The legendary Raven Knight. He may be weak now but he has the potential to be stronger than-", she paused before speaking.

"Stronger than Morgan."

One would expect someone in her position to be hostile to Gawain and Mordred, the children of the other wife but Guinevere is different.

After Morgause's death, she became a mother figure to Gawain and visited Mordred, despite my warnings to not enter the Dawn Palace.

And now she's saying that the weak Mordred has more potential than her child, the strongest of my children?

Interesting.

"Then if he survives three years in the North, he will surely become strong. He must unless he wants to die at such a young age."

Guinevere narrowed her blue eyes, "But if he survives, he will be haunted by the horrors of the battlefield. Three years of constant battle against the horrors of the Tear can break his mind and spirit. At worst, he will become the very monster that Merlin warned you about."

"If that happens. I will face him and one of us will come out as the victor."

She raised an eyebrow, "You?"

"Maybe?"

I laced my fingers, "There is no change in my decision, Guinevere. It is pointless to argue further."

Guinevere sighed, "Very well. But can I ask you some questions?"

"Ask away."

She crossed her arms, "If Mordred survives the Tear and maintains his sanity after those three years. What will you do?"

"I will provide adequate compensation."

"Even though it's his punishment?"

"Surviving the Tear for such a long time is a massive achievement. Punishment or not I will reward him for his achievements, if any. I swear on my name.", I declared.

Guinevere looked fairly impressed by my decision, "Okay. Next one. What made you finally stop ignoring Mordred? Was it the incident with those three heirs?"

I nodded, "Indeed. Those three fools slandered Morgause in front of Mordred. So he beats them up to protect his mother's honor despite knowing that he is a weakling. How can I ignore something like that?"

A dangerous glint appeared in the First Queen's eyes and the air started shaking as her aura and rage leaked out, "Those brats dare slander Morg?"

Some of the trinkets kept on the mantle of my fireplace fell due to the shaking. She looked at me, "And you did nothing except try to appease their fathers by sending your son to his doom?", she asked icily with glowing eyes.

"Absolutely not.", I said quietly and the shaking stopped as my Bloodlust leaked out. A terrifying chill spread from me and the lights dimmed as darkness blocked them along with the window.

Guinevere stopped unleashing her power and froze as my Bloodlust seeped into her very soul.

"Anyone who talks ill of you or Morgause must pay the ultimate price. I have already prepared something for those three dukes and their useless children.", my voice sounded layered as I spoke those words.

My lips curled into a small smile as I spoke with venom in my voice, "They will know the price of mocking my wife."

"Even the Incarni won't be able to save them."

And with those words, my Bloodlust disappeared and Guinevere wheezed as her breath almost left her body. After a few deep breaths, she looked at me.

"Very well, Arth. Now for my final question."

A worried look came on my wife's face as she asked her last question, "What will you do if Mordred develops a deep hatred for you after his return?"

I looked out the window and thought about her question. No doubt Mordred already hates me and I have no excuse for it. I know it is on me.

"If that is the case.", I said as the morning sun claimed its place in the blue sky.

"I will gladly accept it all."