"The Witch and the Broken Prince" [Part 8] King Arthur's Quest - An Infinity Kingdom Story

🔷 Introduction

Welcome to Part 8 of King Arthur’s Quest, where we are following the magical journey of this beloved character and the trials and tribulations that he faces on his path to his destiny.

There is a darkness that has grown in Arthur, and what path he will take is the biggest question of all. 

📄 Recap of Part 7: “Oath of Deception”

After a disturbing encounter with goblins, King Arthur seeks to unite his knights through a pact of loyalty, unknowingly influenced by the dark whispers of his sister, Morgana.

As their bond strengthens, Arthur's growing mastery of magic and power creates tension among the knights, and the weight of his ambition threatens to unravel both his leadership and his kingdom.

🔷 Part 8: “The Witch and the Broken Prince”

The days of uneasy training stretched on, and with each passing hour, the bond Arthur had forged with his knights—once a symbol of unity—began to fray. Whispers of discontent grew louder, their trust in him now tainted by the growing darkness around his every decision. The knights, once steadfast and loyal, no longer looked to Arthur with admiration but with suspicion and fear. They obeyed his commands with a coldness that chilled him to the bone, and the once-familiar camaraderie between them had turned brittle, fractured by the weight of his increasingly erratic behavior.

It was on a bitterly cold morning, after a particularly grueling training session, that the breaking point arrived. Arthur stood before his knights in the courtyard, his mind clouded by Morgana’s whispers, and saw the doubt in their eyes. They had gathered in a tense, uncomfortable silence, their postures rigid and unwilling to meet his gaze.

“Your Highness, we have followed you,” Sir Gawain said, his voice heavy with unspoken emotion. “But this… This is not the Arthur we swore our lives to. There is something in your eyes, a shadow we no longer recognize.”

Arthur’s hand clenched around the hilt of his sword, but the words felt like knives driven into his chest. “You would turn your back on me now?” he demanded, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. “After all we’ve been through? After all I’ve given to you?”

Sir Lancelot stepped forward, his face a mask of resolve but pain. “You’ve given us power, Arthur, but it is not the kind of power we need. You’ve changed. The bond you offered us—this ‘pact’—was built on a lie. We can no longer follow you.” His words echoed through the courtyard like a death knell.

A wave of fury crashed over Arthur, a boiling rage that came not just from their betrayal but from the suffocating weight of his own choices. The truth of their words hit him like a blow, and yet he couldn't bring himself to apologize, couldn't undo what had been done. The knights had turned their backs on him, but it was no different from the betrayal he felt in his own heart—he had betrayed himself long ago, the moment he listened to Morgana’s voice.

Merlin had stood in the back of the crowd, his face grim and unreadable, but as the knights walked away, abandoning Arthur without a second glance, Merlin approached. His gaze met Arthur’s, and there was a coldness in it now, a finality that Arthur hadn’t expected from the man who had once been his closest friend, his confidant.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, his voice steady but laden with sorrow, “I cannot support you in this. I cannot stand by as you walk this path. You have lost your way.” The words stung more than any sword could have. “I warned you, long ago, about the danger of that power. I warned you about Morgana. But you wouldn’t listen.”

“I didn’t ask for your warnings,” Arthur spat, fury welling up in his chest. “You think I haven’t seen the way you look at me? You think I don’t know you’ve been holding something back, always hiding the truth from me? I needed you, Merlin, and you’ve failed me just like they have.”

Merlin didn’t flinch, but his eyes held an unbearable sadness. “Arthur, I never wanted to be your enemy. I never wanted to see you fall. But you’re beyond help now. I can’t save you.” He turned to leave, his back stiff, and it was as though the last thread of connection between them snapped. Arthur was alone.

Alone, except for the voice of Morgana that still whispered in the depths of his mind, sweet and venomous.

“You’ve been abandoned, Arthur,” Morgana’s voice purred, like a lover’s caress. “They’ve betrayed you, all of them. They never understood you. But I do. I always have.”

The anger surged within him, his heart pounding with frustration and fury at the world that had turned against him. He found himself on the balcony of the castle, overlooking the darkened expanse of Camelot below, his mind in turmoil. He slammed his fist against the stone railing.

“Morgana!” he shouted, the name torn from his lips with an edge of desperation. “You’re the one who did this! You made me believe that I could control them, control all of this, but now... now everything is falling apart!”

Her presence was immediate, like a shadow falling over him, though she wasn’t physically there. But he could feel her; he could almost see the predatory smile in her voice.

“Arthur,” she said softly, her tone soothing and seductive, “everything has its price. You wanted power, and you’ve paid for it with their loyalty. But you still have the strength to rise above this. You’re more than just a king—you’re a god in the making, and you don’t need their approval.”

“I don’t need them." Arthur's voice broke as he spoke, the weight of his own words sinking into him. “You’ve ruined everything, Morgana! You’ve pushed me so far that even Merlin and my own knights no longer trust me. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Leave them all behind,” she whispered. “Embrace what you were always meant to be. You have nothing left here, Arthur. But together… we can be unstoppable.”

The anger slowly began to bleed away, replaced by a strange clarity. For the first time in weeks, Arthur saw the truth in Morgana’s words. There was no going back. No redemption from the choices he had made. The knights were lost to him. Merlin, too.

What was left but to follow Morgana?

The next evening, Arthur stood before the cold, iron bars of the dungeon where Morgana had been imprisoned. The guards had all left, lost in their own distractions, and with a few swift words of magic, Arthur unlocked the cell. Morgana stepped out, her eyes glimmering with a mixture of triumph and something more dangerous.

"Arthur," she said, her voice like velvet, "you’ve finally seen it. We are meant to rule together, and together we can shape the world as we see fit."

He met her gaze, the last remnants of his old doubts fading away. The world outside his kingdom had rejected him. But Morgana… Morgana was his only chance.

He took her hand, feeling a surge of power and anticipation rush through him. Together, they would leave Camelot behind, and nothing—not even the gods themselves—would stand in their way.

The kingdom would burn, but they would rise from its ashes, bound not just by blood but by something far stronger.

And as they rode away from Camelot, their hearts pounding in unison, Arthur realized something he had never considered before: that perhaps, in the end, the only person who truly understood him was Morgana.

The darkness had consumed him, but now, in her arms, he had found a kind of salvation—of a different, far more dangerous kind.

📄 Recap Questions

Now that Arthur has chosen his path, what is his plan?

Is joining forces with Morgana a way to deceive her and find a path of righteousness, or is this decision one of his new being, one of darkness and deception?

🔷 Conclusion

Arthur has finally made his choice, and it has all been boiling down to this moment. He has chosen a path of darkness, which is surprising, but ultimately he is the only one who knows why he did it.

There must be a reason, as the great king of Camelot can’t simply end this way.

See you next week!

🔷 Hades, Press Officer.

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