ARTHUR
ARTHUR PUSHED OPEN THE HEAVY PALACE DOORS just as the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon. The cool morrow air clung to him, his footsteps echoing faintly in the quiet corridor. His heart still raced from the night, but it was quickly tempered by the sight that awaited him.
Gilgamesh stood in the center of the grand hall, with a goblet of wine lazily dangling from two fingers, though it seemed untouched. His expression was unreadable.
Arthur stopped in his tracks, bracing for the inevitable. "Father," he said cautiously.
Gilgamesh tilted his head, studying his son up and down for a long moment. "Do you love her?" he asked simply.
Arthur blinked. He had not expected such a direct question, much less one so devoid of judgment. He straightened, "I do," he said firmly.
"Does she love you?"
Arthur's silence said all. Then, to add to his utter disbelief, the king chuckled. It started low, then grew into a deep, genuine laugh that filled the hall. When he had enough, he wiped a tear from his eye and said, "Listen, son. Your mother told me what you heard. And while I truly could not care less to have this conversation, something tells me you will benefit from it somehow."
Arthur blinked.
"You have three siblings. In total, I have four children. All with one woman, your mother." He paused to scratch his neck, "There were women before her. Ten, maybe more." he waved a hand in pain. "But none of them were her. No one will ever come close. Your mother was there when I ended all of it. For she is the only woman I have and will ever love. Everything before her does not exist to me." He pointed at his son's chest. "You and your siblings exist because wewanted you. Not the council nor the kingdom."
Arthur shifted very uncomfortably.
"What is the matter with you, now?"
"Blame Artizea." Arthur mumbled while figeting.
Gilgamesh frowned, then blinked frog-like, then he sighed, "So there you have it, my ugly past. How to escape it? Find one woman, stick with her. Love her to the end and for the love of the gods, do whatever she says… and you just might live long enough to have kids of your own who question your love for her and them." he paused. "You have one box checked, good luck with the other two," he rose to leave.
"She cannot have kids…" Arthur whispered.
His father stopped, and Arthur stared, halfway between amused and bewildered. "I will let you in on a little secret…" he walked to Arthur and whispered something in his ear.
The words froze the air between them. His father's stride faltered, and Arthur, half-amused, half-confused, braced for the response. Instead, the king leaned down, close enough for only Arthur to hear, and whispered a single truth.
Arthur's pupils blew wide before he blinked hard, muttering under his breath, "What the fuck…"
His father was already striding away. "Congratulations, you are a man now, and Arthur—if you feel unwanted again, just remember your mother and I had the most fun making you."
Arthur gagged violently into the nearest potted plant.
"See? This is exactly what I told your mother. I don't even know why I bother…" Gilgamesh sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do your father a solid and pretend we're this magnificent father-and-son picnic—where we laughed, bonded, all that sentimental nonsense. Otherwise, your mother will personally stage one herself."
"Yep—got it—" Arthur said before hurling again.
"And relay the rest to your siblings? I have no wish to repeat myself four times. Just…keep the important part between us."
Arthur wiped his mouth, groaning. "I did not tell them…" he rasped.
Gilgamesh stopped, tilting his head with a frown, eyes narrowing."Interesting."
Arthur stood frozen, watching as his father turned and began to walk away. "Wait—," he called, his brows furrowing. "That is it? You are not going to forbid me from seeing her?"
Gilgamesh paused at the base of the staircase, glancing back over his shoulder. "Son," he sighed, "As painfully obvious, I can make it, I care not for the specifics of my children's happiness, I only wish the best for them." A sly grin spread across his face.
"But Eric—"
"Was a good man, yes. I will give him that. However, you know better than most, your sister needs not yet another sword at her side… especially when that same sword may just as easily end up at her throat, once that love is gone," he said softly, "Too often, it is the hand we trust most that leaves the deepest wound."
Arthur was frozen, then exhaled in relief, only for his father to add, his voice carrying through the hall, "Now tell her why you are grounded for another moon." his laughter echoed off the marble walls.
And there it is, Arthur muttered under his breath. He groaned, his shoulders sagging. But despite himself, a laugh escaped his lips, his frustration melting into amusement.
Right up until.
"Arthuria! Your son's in love with a commoner!" His Father's booming laughter echoed through the halls.
Arthur stood there, utterly dumbfounded.
ARTIZEA
Artizea entered the solitary place once more. Cloaked in black, The Truth Sayer looked up calmly. "Hello again, your Grace…" she said with a smirk. "I half-expected your return alone. Such a shame… the trouble young love always brings…"
Artizea inhaled sharply, forcing the sting away with a shake of her head."I need answers."
"And answers you shall have," she replied, "But be warned, truth rarely comes without cost."
Artizea's jaw tightened. "I will pay whatever the coin—
"Coin is a man-made treasure forged to measure a life's worth and the illusion of power," the truth Sayer said swiftly, "The price I speak of demands what no man can afford to gamble with…a wager…of a soul's worth."
"Fine—I will pay it! I-I need to know why this is happening to me." Artizea interrupted.
The Truth Sayercleaned her teeth, "But are you prepared for what you will give away fornothing in return?" Gesturing for her to sit, giving her one last option to step away, however, Artizea did not yield. They both lowered themselves to the ground.
The Truth Sayer shuffled the deck slowly."You were born of a bloodline both divine and cursed," she murmured, drawing the first card. A sword gleamed amid roses of blue, their petals stained with blood. "The blood of the First Humans… through your mother." Another card turned, this one etched with a pair of wings—one black, one white. "Along with the blood of the divine." The final card slid free, its face marked by a familiar crown. "…From your father's side."
Artizea's eyes dilated, her breath quickening, "My grandfather—?"
"Your Father—" the truth sayer corrected sharply, "Though he may try to bury it all he likes, he cannot change his blood. He cannot change his fate." She reached for another card, sniffing it. "…nor yours." showing Artizea the same card she saw the first time she was here, fire…"
Ba-dum Ba-dum
"Do you wish to know the story of the Great Mother—your ancestor, Tiamat?" the Truth-Sayer asked.
Artizea nodded faintly.
"She was a monster… or so they agreed." The Truth-Sayer tilted their head, spreading the remaining cards face down across the table. With a gesture, inviting Artizea to choose at her whim.
Artizea's fingers hovered before she turned one. The card revealed a beast, fangs bared.
"A monster, yes," the Truth-Sayer murmured, guiding her to another. "But also…"
Artizea flipped it. A mother cradling her child.
"…a Mother."
Artizea chose again. She drew a card showing a radiant figure crowned in stars.
"A primordial goddess."
Another—blazing with fire and shadow.
"Her power was unequaled, so too was her wrath. And when it consumed her—"
The next card showed ruin, a figure falling into darkness.
"She fell."
The next—shards scattering across the void.
"Her children, scattered. Cursed to carry fragments of her essence."
As the Truth-Sayer spoke, blood trickled from their nose. Their trembling hand pointed toward the final card.
Artizea hesitated, then turned it over. It was gold and blank. showing her own face stared back at her. She swallowed. "What does that mean?"
The Truth Sayer's lips curved into a wry smile. "That will be an extra ten coins."
Artizea leveled her with a flat stare.
The old hag huffed, repentantly. "Alright, alright—six."
Artizea dropped the entire bag of coins into her hands. The clink of metal was sharp in the silence.
The Truth Sayer's eyes widened briefly before narrowing again, a sly satisfaction gleaming in them. She took the princess's hand and quickly pricked her finger.
Artizea hissed, pulling slightly, but the woman pressed firmly until four crimson drops fell onto the rune.
"Some chosen one you are," the Truth Sayer muttered
"What do you mean, chosen one?"
The truth-sayer sighed under her breath, though her gaze never left the stone, which flared brighter, casting long shadows across the chamber. "Your awakening was no accident. It was foretold in the stars before you were born, etched into every kingdom in the language of the old tongue." From her robes, she drew out a stone etched with runes that pulsed faintly, glowing as if stirred by Artizea's very presence.
Artizea's breath caught. "But… I thought everything was destroyed in the fire."
The Truth Sayer turned the stone between her fingers. "I have my ways…"
"Can you read it?"
"I guess, since you over payed over." The truth-sayer sighed in exhaustion.
"The stone speaks…" she whispered
"When the stars fall, and the earth trembles,Born of wrath and fire, the Vessel shall rise.Blood of the first beast that was bound by the divine,She shall freely walk along the bridge between heaven and earth..Through her will, kingdoms shall crumble."
The Truth-Sayer's voice broke to a whisper. "You—
"— Artizea Pendragon…are my chosen successor."
The voice that spoke was in Artizea's mind, low and deep. Her hands trembled. "Why was I not told this? Why did my family not—"
"They already know."
Artizea froze.
"Your father, your mother, even your siblings, down to the youngest," the truth sayer continued with disdain, "They have known since the day of your first awakening. Three there are, and three there must be. The first has passed, the second has followed. The third… remains unseen. And it is that which they wait for." She paused, "Why do you think your parents have tried so desperately to avoid addressing it? Why do you think your siblings watch you with such caution?"
"No—" Artizea whispered, shaking her head. "They wouldn't—"
"But they did…" the Truth Sayer pressed. "They lied to you because they fear you. They see you as a threat, not as a daughter, a sister, and certainly not a Crown princess. They will seek to bind you, to control you, to stop you from becoming what they fear most…
Artizea wanted to deny it, to call the Truth Sayer a liar, but the memory of her parents' silence, of Arthur's endless protection speeches: Nothing comes before our duty; we serve the realm. Then Eugene's dismissiveness, Nothing but half-truths…
"I need to speak to them," she whispered in disbelief, "This has to be a mistake–"
"As I said before, my cards make no mistakes…" the Truth Sayer cut her off sharply.
Artizea looked away, her mind a storm of emotions. She swallowed hard, her mind racing. "And you? Who are you to tell me this?"
The Truth Sayer smiled faintly, their clouded eyes gleaming. "I am simply a guide for those seeking the truth. Whether you accept or not is entirely up to you, your Highness," then a pause, "But I am feeling generous, so I will offer a bit of guidance…"
Artizea looked up.
"The truth you seek from the gods is already in your hands… maybe in a certain underground chamber, perhaps that you have seen yet not seen, while in your inner consciousness is now temporarily open….maybe you will be able to decipher for yourself what it truly means to walk in the footsteps of another."
As Artizea rose and turned to leave, the weight of the prophecy and the seeds of doubt were firmly planted in her heart. Unable to face her family without proof, she went to the place the fortune teller had spoken of, the underground chamber she saw in her dream.
Artizea descended the narrow, winding staircase deep beneath the palace, the air growing colder and more oppressive with each step. When she reached the bottom, she froze.
The prison was enormous, its stone walls etched with ancient runes that pulsed faintly with magic. Chains the size of tree trunks hung from the ceiling, their ends adorned with massive iron cuffs. The floor was lined with scorch marks, as though it had already borne the wrath of a dragon's fire. She stepped into the chamber, her mind spinning. The moment her skin met the metal, fragments of memory struck her all at once.
Tiamat, bound in a storm of fury, her screams shaking the heavens, golden chains biting into her flesh. "Stop this! Please!" she begged herself, her voice breaking. "Look at me. I am not your enemy!" Tears stream down her face, "I am your Mother—"
Then the echo of hammering, sharp and unrelenting, rang in Artizea's head, then another voice. "My king, the final link as you requested."
Her gaze snapped to the vision forming before her—shadowy figures bent in reverence. And then the voice that followed. A voice she knew too well.
"Very well."
Her breath caught when she saw her father step forward. He pressed a hand now stretched with swirls of golden patterns upon the pulsing chains. His crimson eyes now glowed almost vermillion, as well as his veins. At his will, the links shuddered with celestial magic, then straightened.
Artizea's eyes dilated and her stomach churned as the realization set in: this was not just a cage for Tiamat. This was meant for her. Her family—her father, her siblings—they had known. They had built this in preparation for the day she would lose control. It was a cage. A cage made for a beast. Made for her.
She stumbled back, pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. Anger and betrayal coursed through her veins, her dragon stirring within her, feeding on her emotions.
"Do you even remember who you were? What yourepresent?Do your kin?"
"That which they wait for."
"Trust no one."