Second Chances #3
The main force had arrived. Enormous, towering inferno dragons, black as pitch, save where their inner fire shone through, creating lines of orange and red and yellow between their scales.
Even larger than them were the golems, their claws nearly as large as a man's head, and they spewed fetid mucus deadlier than any venom.
"These shouldn't even be in the fucking game," Lancelot said bitterly.
All the way at the back, he could see Maleagant, in his black and purple spiked armor, the enormous blood-red horns on his helmet, sitting astride a literal nightmare stallion, its eyes glowing green, its iron hooves sparking wherever it struck.
An echoing scream of pain filled the air, and the body of the hydra, enormous and terrible, came crashing down, wiping out the NPCs on both sides, taking out some of the golems and dragons as well.
"Attack!" Lancelot roared. Almost as one, he and Merlin grabbed the crenellations and launched themselves over the curtain and into the battle below.
Lancelot called up his horse, and immediately swung up into the saddle as he landed.
Armor and shield covered him, a surcoat with his personal crest: the dragon of Camelot and the water lily of his homeland.
He called up a lance, a far nicer one than he should have in the game at this point. "Merlin, stay behind me."
Dred and Tristan reappeared, disheveled and bloody, but ready for round two.
Ahead of them, flanked by golems and surrounded by an honor guard of nasty looking goblins, was Bran. "My turn," Dred said, and banished their horse and clothes. With a scream, they turned into their gryphon form.
When the transformation was finished, Tristan in his entirely predictable fashion, threw himself onto Dred's back. As he shared the element of fire, the fiery wings wouldn't hurt him.
They threw themselves into battle as Morgan and Gawain continued their own fight across the body-strewn field.
Is Arthur back in the keep? Lancelot asked.
We dragged him in here, Percival replied. He's wounded and exhausted, but he'll be fine.
Good.
Lancelot heeled his horse forward, and into battle he went.
He blocked arrows, rocks, and balls of fire with his shield, used the far reach of the lance to cut down enemies attempting to take down his horse and drag him off it.
Behind him, Merlin more than held his own, using his earthen magic to break and destroy.
Ahead of them, Dred and Tristan continued to carve a fiery path—until they encountered all three remaining golems and the remaining inferno dragon. Fucking fantastic. There was no way they'd get further in their quest without dealing with this lineup.
Lancelot had really been hoping he wouldn't have to transform, but there was no help for it. They weren't getting past this sort of threat without it.
I can come help, damn it, Arthur snarled.
He's not going anywhere, Kay said. I'll drag him into the lake if I have to.
Lancelot smiled fleetingly, then dismissed his horse, clothes, and everything else, and gave himself over to his serpent form right as the inferno dragon spewed fire and lava. He met it with water, filling the battlefield with scorching steam, knocking over goblins and more with his spined tail.
As Dred focused on one golem, and the others on the second and third, holding them back and keeping them busy, Lancelot summoned more water, keeping the inferno dragon too wet and cool to spew more deadly fire, then surged in and wrapped around it, his long, muscular body tangling and trapping the dragon, choking it.
When the body went limp, he tore out its throat to be safe.
The golems, distracted by the smell of fresh blood and meat so close, gave Mordred all the opening they needed to rip the head off one and set fire to the other two, which in turn allowed the others to finish the job.
Shifting back, shoving away his exhaustion, Lancelot recalled his clothes, weapons, and horse, drawing Arondight this time instead of his lance. He turned his full attention to Maleagant and Galehaut, their honor guard of goblins—
And stared in horror as they vanished like smoke on the wind.
Deception. Shadows. The oldest fucking trick in the book. "Back to the castle!" he bellowed, even as he heard the roar of another large beast and alerts flared from Arthur, Kay, and Percival.
"I—I know that cry," Tristan said, voice shaking.
"That's the questing beast. But I killed it ages ago.
" His friend and rival Palamedes, who had been cursed by Maleagant, turned forever into a terrible monster, a dark and twisted chimaera.
The same twisted fate Kinborough had cursed herself with in her desperation to best Mordred.
Except Palamedes hadn't had a choice, and Tristan had slain him to grant the only peace left to him.
"A paltry imitation to shake us," Lancelot said, and then they were racing back to the castle. The water, the fucking water. Maleagant had distracted them with battle and snuck in via the water. Damn it, he was so fucking stupid.
He heard Arthur and Percival scream as he reached the keep. An alert flashed at the corner of his eye, but he ignored it because he was almost there—
Shadow ripped through them as they entered the great hall, pain like a thousand knives, bitterly cold and searingly hot all at once, making him sick and dizzy. Lancelot collapsed, even as he tried to fight it, but he was a fly fighting a spider's web.
Lifting his head took so much effort he nearly passed out.
Arthur. Percival. Guinevere. Elaine. Iseult. Bertilak. All lying unconscious. Where was Kay?
Lancelot puked, only barely noticing the blood in it, then tried to focus again.
The great hall was a mess. The tables and chairs were nothing but ashes and soot. All the tapestries and more were gone, glass in rainbow pieces across the floor, digging into his hands and legs, which explained some of the pain.
As he watched, unable to move, everyone equally trapped around him, the thrones shifted, darkened, turned into black marble with veins of purple and red. Down the length of either side of the hall, fourteen additional marble seats rose from the floor.
That was why Maleagant hadn't wanted to kill them. He needed them for something.
Sixteen chairs, though. That wasn't right. There should only be fifteen.
His heart skipped, then started pounding faster than ever, as Merlin's words came back to him.
I sense some greater force has interfered where they can.
Standing in front of the thrones, dressed in his finery of old, like a king preparing for his coronation, Maleagant laughed, the sound filled with cruelty and smug satisfaction. Beside him, sword drawn, ready to defend, was Galehaut. Lancelot bit back a sob.
Bran, still very much possessed, went around the room gathering each of them one by one. Arthur and Guinevere to their thrones, where they were promptly bound in faintly glowing, red-black chains.
Eventually, they were all in their chairs.
Only then did Maleagant finally turn on Bran and Galehaut, striking them with the same terrible, incapacitating shadow magic.
They screamed in agony, and Lancelot would have sobbed to hear Galehaut, to hear all of them, in so much pain, but he could barely stay awake.
Maleagant's smug expression dropped from his face as he finally noticed the problem that Lancelot had noted immediately.
"This isn't right. There's only fifteen of them.
That was the bargain struck, that was the number of sacrifices required.
Why is there an extra chair?" He bellowed with fury, shaking the very stones of the hall.
His eyes blazed with hate as he turned to Arthur.
"What did you do, you stupid fucking son of a bitch?
" Snarling, he climbed the steps of the dais and grabbed the scruff of Arthur's tunic.
Arthur smirked, golden and shining, despite the pain he was in, the blood that covered him. "Fuck you."
Maleagant screamed again and drew his sword, but they all knew that though he could torture everyone in that room, he could not kill them.
Also, that he had gambled everything for his feint to work. He was at the end of his power, had risked it all on the surety of his victory. If he could not find and secure Kay, it was over for him.
Thoroughly distracted by Arthur and his talent for being infuriating, Maleagant didn't notice the figure that slipped quietly into the room and up to Lancelot's chair. Picking up Arondight where it had fallen from his hand as he was dropped in the chair, Kay used it to slice through the chains.
"Hide again, get the others out as soon as I have him distracted.
Free Galehaut first, he's the most vulnerable to the water I'm going to unleash," Lancelot said quietly as he pulled free and stood up, taking back Arondight, drawing upon its strength to restore some of his own.
Reaching out to the lake, to the dregs of it remaining on the battlefield, he called it to him.
"Send me an alert each time someone makes it out of the throne room. "
Maleagant stopped, let go of Arthur, who was now beaten black and blue, Guinevere in nearly as bad a shape beside him.
Not once, despite their excruciating beatings, had either made a sound.
Turning around slowly, Maleagant narrowed his eyes as he took in Lancelot.
"The Greatest Knight, I should have known you'd try to be a problem one last time.
" He banished his fine clothes, recalling his armor and sword, and walked slowly down the dais, shadows coming to him, heeding his call as the water heeded Lancelot.
"I am King of the Distant Isles, rightful King of Camelot, and I have bested all of you yet again," Maleagant said.
"If the mighty King Arthur himself could not best me in all his golden glory, no one can.
You can barely stand, Captain of the Knights of Failure.
You're pathetic. What do you really think you can do, Sir Lancelot du Lac, at this final hour when the victory is already mine? "
Water began to cover the floor of the great hall, moving slowly, quietly.
Lancelot wiped the blood from his face and then let his arm fall to his side. Blood dripped from his gloves to land in the water, swirling and spreading.
Do not forget where you come from, who you are, what you are, and all that means.
"I serve the King of Camelot, but do you think that means I have forsaken my homeland and surrendered to the earth?
I am the son of the Lady of the Lake, the Queen of the Waters, beloved of her and granted in that love all her might and power.
" Water came crashing through the open doors, the shattered windows, flooding the great hall up to his knees, restoring his health and strength, breaking and diluting the shadows.
Scales covered him, stronger than any armor.
On his forehead, a glowing stylized water lily with increasingly smaller circles fanning out from each side, the mark of the royal house.
The ring he wore faded away, and around his throat a tight, elaborate necklace of pearls and jewels appeared, forming a water lily in their very center. The necklace of the crown heir.
He threw out his hand, and three swords of power came toward him, coalescing into a glowing light, and as the light faded he held a large trident set with a glowing blue jewel. He bared his teeth at Maleagant.
"I am the Prince of Tides, and you are nothing to me. You want Camelot? Come and take it."