CHAPTER 18.

LATER THAT DAY.

Dark clouds of smoke suffocated the skies above. Bloodstained the soils of Camelot. Screams of folks, fleeing for their lives, holding their children tightly to their chest. Homes began to collapse into the fires that consumed them, with unquestionable thirst.

The Blackguard ships arrived on the shores of Camelot. They began to slaughter anything in their wake. The commander began to march towards a man that collapsed onto the ground after being suffocated by smoke. The villager quickly stood up, only to cause him immediate pain. He began to limp for his life. Hot and piercing arrows continued to strike the village from above.

Embers of ash swallowed most of the air and the commander approached the man.

"I've watched your petty world slumbering. You can not defer the mark of steel, you can only surrender." his gravelly voice whispered. The Blackguard commander stomped his steel sole against the spine of the man that pleaded for his life. The commander struck his sword into the man and ended his screams of mercy.

*****

Axel held tightly onto the reins of her horse. She held a piece of cloth against her nose, as it continued to bleed. She was grateful that she didn't have to walk. Occasionally, she would question Anna why she couldn't have used a portal.

But she gave Axel the same answer; that she didn't have the energy, after fully healing Axel's wounds, and sending her to the Darklands.

She still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that something dark took flight from her. Axel deeply regrets smashing that mirror and falling into its trap. This was how the creature designed its deception. Showing her the sword from the beginning, and teasing her to travel to the Darklands.

Axel named the creature Myrrah, after all, it had a relation to the mirror it was imprisoned inside.

Anna was able to transport them half the distance, that Axel anticipated. Her eyes raised towards the bowels of the sky, as she saw thick, smouldering, smoke. Marcus's eyes widened at the sight of Camelot's desolation. His heart sunk into the depths of his stomach, unwilling to think otherwise.

Axel reacted quickly, she rode at a meteoric speed. Almost at a neck-splitting speed, towards the village. She began to descend the hill, after seeing the remaining people flee the village. Marcus, Anna, Magnus, Maxwell, and the entire Saxon village followed down to Camelot.

They brought the numbers. Earlier Anna premeditated the weeks they would border their ships on their land. Her for-sight proved to be correct, but they were too late. Myrrah sat on her throne, calling out to the army that marched closer to Londinium.

At the time Axel arrived, Camelot was destroyed.

A cloud of death hung in the air like a toxic cloud. Axel stepped off of her horse and watched as the Blackguards left at no mercy. Axel raised her hand over her mouth, and a bile began to form in her throat. Axel gagged due to the smell that soon became repulsive. She grew up in this small village and practically knew everyone. And so many she knew laid on the ground, lifelessly. No one here deserved the massacre.

Axel began to regret stepping out her front door setting on a journey and returning to where nothing was left. Axel deeply felt that their blood was on her hands. Witnessing gruesome scenes of her neighbours, people she knew, and friendly folk, was devastating.

It made her want to scream and cry. The village was so silent, it use to be filled with so much laughter, chatter, and songs. She began to step over rows of sprawled bodies, searching for a sign of life.

"Axel," Magnus called out.

She ignored his call and continued to walk through the village. Axel was convinced that there was someone still left.

There had to be.

Right?

Magnus stepped off of his horse and followed Axel, as she mindlessly wandered. Her mind was blank, she observed the desolation and slaughter of the village. A snap of wood startled her, a village home collapsed in its wake, caving in with such force.

The destruction tore her from her daze, leaving her in wonder about what she was searching for.

"Axel, are you alright? You shouldn't go wandering off unarmed."

"But I am armed," Axel muttered, emotionless. Her gaze shot back and forth.

Axel's gaze furrowed towards the blurry figure that was concealed in the thick, black, smoke.

The man approached her at a slow pace, he used his sword to balance himself. His eye was swollen, and he had a deep gash on his shoulder. It was bonded tightly, with a piece of shredded fabric.

Her heart stammered when her eyes locked on Alaric.

"Alaric?" she questioned as if he was a ghost.

"Hey, kiddo," Alaric replied. He held up his finger to give him a moment, as this horrendous cough exited his lungs. It almost seemed as if he coughed up a lung.

"W-what happened...here?" Axel stammered.

"I tried to call them off, gathered my best fighters, and began to evacuate the women and children. They're hiding beneath the Court of Fighters. I couldn't save them all, I tried, Axel." Alaric painted out.

Marcus stepped forward, along with Magnus.

"Wait! Are my mother and sister alright?! Are they okay?!" Marcus blurted out in pure fear. Alaric's eyes shifted from Axel to Marcus.

"They were the first two to seek shelter," Alaric answered. Marcus sighed in relief, the answer eased his fear like water to a flame. Magnus shook his head impatiently and looked back at his men that waited patiently for orders.

"Who attacked Camelot? Was it the Blackguards?" Axel feared.

"I fear that is true. Earlier, I asked the fighters to gather on the shoreside. But then I knew it, a thick smog embraced the waters, with a thick cloak of frost. I saw several longships, made from the claws and talons of dead men. The Blackguards took most to the shores and slaughtered the ones who deferred." Alaric groaned. He began to tip sideways.

Axel rushed to his aid and held him up like a brace to a broken bone.

"I'm alright." Alaric lied.

Axel shook her head, "No you're not. You need help-"

"You shouldn't be helping me, Axel. You should be helping the thousands who are ready to be slaughtered by the Blackguards, they make their march towards Londinium. Vortigern is dead, and now this...thing has taken the throne." Alaric warned in agony, he held his hand against his chest.

His hand was concealed beneath his grey cloak, blood coated his fingertips. Alaric sighed, he did his best trying to send Axel and her fleet away, with reason. He knew if she would discover that he's been stabbed that she wouldn't be able to focus on taking down Myrrah and stopping the Blackguards.

He led her under his wing, trained the first female fighter, and took care of her like she was his own. Alaric wasn't married, nor left a legacy to his children. But Marcus and Axel were practically the closest things he had to family.

Alaric's teachings were incredibly strict, but he meant well. He wanted them to find a form of peace, inner peace as he called it.

"You need to stop them, Axel. You and your knights." Alaric begged her.

"This will be their end, I can assure you, Alaric."

Alaric chuckled in amusement, "No one who meets the Blackguards returns." Alaric replied with reason.

"I've returned," Axel answered, remembering the riders had a connection to the Blackguards. The riders were spies of the Blackguards, sent to kill the heir of Uther Pendragon and seemingly had one chance, but they failed.

Magnus noticed Alaric's intentions. Magnus sighed, he wrapped an arm around Axel.

"Come on, we don't have much time," Magnus warned Axel.

"Take care, Alaric." Axel frowned.

"I-I will." Alaric lied, knowing he had brief time left. 

He slowly watched Axel and her company abandon Camelot and rushed to make it to Londinium.

Axel turned her head over her shoulder and watched Alaric slowly begin to fade away. He placed three tribute fingers up and wished her the best. Unknowingly, it was the last time she would ever see him again.