Excalibur's Seven - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

A RUSH OF ADRENALINE filled Morgana's lungs as they ran as far from the knights as they possibly could. The rush was enough to keep him on his feet until they were sure they were safe, but it could only carry him so far. Giselle could see this, and she took his hand, sharing a bit of her strength with him.
He'd managed to take just enough from Kit to keep him from showing his true face, but as soon as he held up his end of the deal he knew it would be useless. They'd all see the real him, the real, sick, dying him, and it would not be pretty.
"You've been using glamour, haven't you?" she asked once they all slowed down. Kit and Selene branched off to find a good place to camp for the night, Chalice and Eurion trailing behind, while Giselle and Morgana stopped to take a break.
Morgana slumped against the tree. "Just a little. I'm using him to get it, he's hardly noticed, but I'm—I'm giving him back his name. I won't have anything left in me for glamour after this."
"Let it down," she whispered, letting her soft fingers trace his cheeks. "They're going to know anyways, you might as well preserve your strength now."
He looked away, but she pulled his face back.
"Come on, Mog, it's just me."
Morgana sighed, giving in and letting the glamour fade. His perfect skin gave way to a cracked cheek, porcelein and imperfect, the eye of the same side now pooled with a deep crimson. His hands trembled, a scar shooting down his neck and across his torso. A patch of white hair blackened in its messy updo.
"There you are. I missed you," she hummed, standing onto her toes and pressing her lips to his forehead.
"It's getting worse, Princess," he told her. "I don't want them to see."
"What's so bad about them knowing?"
"They're going to think I'm weak."
"And you've been depending on them being afraid of you?"
Morgana rolled his eyes. "It's the easiest way to get them under my thumb."
"Well you have me now. They can't hurt you as long as I'm here and I'm not going to leave you. Do you understand?"
He didn't like how easily she got to him. He was as stubborn as they come, but Giselle was the spring that came and melted the winter away. She was the only one that could soften him up.
"Fine," he murmured, brushing past her. He tried his best to walk straight as he made his way into the clearing of trees, where a single lantern lit up the area with a warm glow.
He could feel their stares in an instant.
"Shut up," he barked the moment Kit opened his mouth to speak.
Kit ducked his head. "I was just going to ask for my name back."
"Kristofer. There, you happy?"
He didn't feel anything, it was clear Kit didn't either, but Chalice perked up.
It didn't take long for Morgana to be impressed with them, he didn't even bother to ask how they got so good at magic. He was certain they felt the shift somehow.
Kit stepped closer to him, eyes narrowing down on the faery, and he rose a hand. Morgana was nearly too slow to catch it.
"Can I help you?"
The prince smiled, letting his hand go limp, but Morgana kept his fierce grip. "I was just checking to see if you'd kept your word."
"And?"
"I'm satisfied. If you still controlled me you wouldn't have had to catch my hand."
Morgana growled and let him go. For a man as idiotic as Kit, he had a sharp mind. "Did I not make you a promise?"
"You've been unknowingly controlling me for years, I have a right to make sure."
"Oh, please," Morgana retorted, throwing up his free hand. "I didn't even remember you until I saw you at the castle that night. If I wanted to control you, trust me, you'd know."
With that he turned away, wandering back into the trees to calm down.
He stayed there until he heard Giselle's cry.
Kit watched Morgana storm off, limping against his cane as he darkness overtook his back. If he was smart, he would've killed him the moment he was free. But he let his anger get the best of him, he let himself argue instead of swallowing his pride and sparing the world of another awful Unseelie.
But then he'd have no one to bring to his father. He'd come all this way, agreed to rescue the princess, just so he could take him back to the castle and prove himself to the King. It was an obsession, he knew that, but his heart would never rest until the King saw the good he did more than the rules he'd broken.
He knew he couldn't take Morgana, not like this. But maybe there was another way.
It happened in a blur. Kit pulled Giselle up, holding her against his chest, forearm pressed against her throat. His sword was out, pointed at the others as he backed away.
"Kristofer, let her go," Selene ordered.
Her sword was pointed at him, but he knew she wouldn't hurt him, not enough to kill him at least. She cared about her own blood more than her new faerie crush, that much was certain. He hoped.
"I can't let her go, Selene, and you know that. I have to show him, I have to show the King that I'm worth something."
"Then take me, you blithering moron," Morgana said from behind him. Kit turned to face him, sword pointed his way, but he was too fast. Morgana had Giselle out of his arms and into Selene's protection in an instant, his cane now held up like a weapon.
If Morgana wanted to hand himself over, then so be it.
With a swing to his thigh and a dodge of the cane, Kit then had Morgana in his grasp. "You can't make me put him down, Selene," he said. "I'm not after your crush now, this is the one I came here for. You have to let me take him."
Selene's sword didn't budge. "Kit, please don't make me do this."
He swung first, defending himself from every hit she sent his way, but was unable to hit her back with Morgana in his grasp. After a moment of consideration, he tossed him against a tree with a sickening thud. Now he could properly fight back. But Selene had years of experience on him, and soon enough she had him on the ground, tip of her sword at his throat.
"Kit, I know it hurts. I know how painful it is to live in the shadows of someone older, more important than you, to have to fight for even a modicum of respect. But this has become an obsession. Your need for his approval is turning you into someone I don't recognize anymore."
He shoved her away, rolling out from under her. But his hand shook as he pointed his sword.
"I used to be able to see her in you, Kit."
"Stop it."
"You have her passion, her kindness, her intelligence. But I'm losing that, Kit. Don't kill the only memory of that woman left alive because you're too prideful to let one thing go."
"If I let this go, then what's the point? Everything I have done is so that maybe one day, he'll stop telling the whole world how worthless I am. All that I am, I am for him. But it'll never be enough."
Selene's eyes were glassy. "Kit, you can't center your life around the approval of a man who will never give it to you."
"He's my father, I have to try."
"He was never your father and you know it, Kristofer."
"Shut up!" Kit propelled forward, slashing and stabbing with blind desperation, his last attempt at composure, before Selene finally swiped her sword, knocking his own from his hand and slicing a deep cut into his palm.
He dropped to his knees, tears welling in his eyes. He held his hand and looked up at Selene, voice dripping with venom when he spoke. "Fuck you."
"Fuck you, too, Kristofer. I don't know who you are anymore."
She tossed her sword aside, wandering over to where Giselle was slumped over a loudly groaning Morgana.
Kit was alone. He was alone as he sobbed and bled, until his head was spinning and there was nothing left in him to cry away. He was too tired to be angry now, too tired to scream at a timid Chalice as they approached him with gentle eyes.
They crouched in front of him, placing a hand on his leg. "Can I talk to you?"
"Do I have a choice?"
They chuckled, then sat down beside him, crossing their legs. They took his wounded hand and pulled it onto their lap, ripping off a piece of their cloak to wrap around his palm.
"I'll have to get something better for this, but for now it'll do."
Kit refused to look at them. "What did you need to talk to me about?"
They brushed their fingers over his forehead, as if feeling for something, and closed their eyes. "He's not blocking you anymore. I think I can get the message now." They opened their eyes to look at him. "May I?"
"As long as you don't knock me out like last time," he said with a sad laugh. They smiled back.
He supposed if anyone came to him right now, he'd want it to be Chalice. Selene told him everything he didn't want to hear, and Morgana and Giselle were the last people he wanted to see him like this. And Eurion, well. He knew hardly anything about her, he didn't know what he'd say.
But Chalice was quiet. He didn't feel like he even had to say anything with them. And they didn't try to comfort him or talk to him about what just happened. They were there for Kit and nothing else.
They finally placed their palm on his forehead, squeezing their eyes shut and reciting a Gaelic chant. It was a beautiful language, but God forbid he knew anything they were saying.
He didn't have to, though, because suddenly he understood. He didn't know how, but it felt like his mind was opened, like Chalice could read his thoughts and bled their own into his. It was a strange feeling, but so freeing.
Then everything went black.
The townspeople of Avalon were good. Kit stood at the center of a village, watching as they went about their business, working and talking and dancing and buying. It was a joyful, bustling town. He wished he could visit more often.
But something felt unsettled. As he looked to the horizon, he noticed a black mist, flooding upwards towards the sky and crawling ever quicker towards the town. The shadows killed everything in their path, and they were coming right for his people.
He tried to call out, to warn them of the shadows, but no one could hear him. No one but one. A crow sat on her shoulder, eyes as red as blood, like an omen. She handed him a scroll, wrapped in a crimson ribbon and covered in dirt, as though it had been buried in the ground for ages.
He took the scroll and gently tugged at the ribbon, rolling open the old paper. It was empty. When he looked up to ask the woman why this was, she had vanished.
The shadows were spreader quicker, licking the edges of the village. He knew the map would tell him how to save them, but he couldn't see.
He heard cries of women and children as the shadows struck the people. "No," he whispered, shaking the map. "Please, show me, let me see!"
The map seemed to flicker, but nothing happened.
More screams rang out, and he dropped to his knees. "Please, I have to save them. Show me what I have to do and I'll do it. I'll do anything to save them."
And finally, ink began to form a single word over a faintly drawn map.
"Camelot."