CHAPTER 2.

Early that morning. The morning sun hid behind the horizon, full of vibrant colours, consisting of pastel pink and vibrant golds. Running on a couple of hours of sleep felt like nothing at all. She was nauseated and exhausted. She took longer than usual that morning. She got dressed in a white, tunic shirt and brown leather pants. Then spared some time to feast on a small chunk of bread and cured bacon that she got at the markets.

Fuelling her energy to withstand the day. She sat at the small table, downstairs within the small kitchen, that was identical to any other home in Camelot. At this point, she was grateful that Alaric took her in, and gave her tasks to earn the coffers she needed to stay alive. She cringed every time she imagined if things were different, like if Alaric didn't take her in. It would either be where she worked sun up to sundown, at a small farm outside of Camelot. Or it would be working in a Brothel.

A small chill made the hairs on the back of her neck raise when she pictured a couple of outcomes if Alaric didn't take her in. She gritted her teeth and cringed at the thought.

She jumped onto her feet and gently blew out the candle on the table. The floorboards creaked, as she made her way over to the doorway. The ground was moist and promised a perfect day for Farmer's crops. Axel carried on, ignoring people passing by her and going on with their days.

From her peripheral vision, she noticed a man who leaned against a wooden pillar to the tavern. His expression was unreadable, his hand hovered over his sword, dressed in leather, and his face concealed by a black cloak.

The aura he gave off and what she was warning told her that the Vikings were here for business. Axel ignored the anxious feeling that swelled in her belly. She continued down the dark and narrow alleyway that led to a large stone building. Carved and chiselled to its best, the building could use a renovation. But that's all she expected from the Court Of Fighters. She stepped onto the sand of the court, where Alaric stood there and accompanied Marcus and the Queen.

Queen Vortigern, the sister of the fallen King of Londinium. She was ruthless and made sure peasants suffered for their leisure for not saving the King sooner. Soon enough it would hit the core of peasants like Axel, would rot to their cores and suffer their demise. Axel froze when she locked eyes with the Queen.

Queen Vortigen wore a dark, midnight blue, gown, her hair was blonde, tied up in a messy braid, flattering and beautiful if you scratched out the high winds.

"I see you're not the solemn type, Axel Embers. I never sought that I would meet the little girl who saved the King. I would have hung or prosecuted you if you were some regular or for refusing to bend the knee, but the use of that would be futile." Queen Vortigen implied.

"Apologies." Axel bowed, fixing her wrong into one that was right.

"I've sent Alaric to gather the two of you here because I know the two of you will make sure that you meet the expectations of the task." the Queen inquired of Marcus and Echo.

So, the rumours weren't true, the peasants spoke that the Queen was crooked and deformed. Axel bit her tongue, ensuring that she wouldn't speak her thoughts out loud.

"Whatcha need? Say the word and we'll be on it." Marcus said with confidence, then crossed his arms. The Queen's icy gaze peeled off of Axel and to Marcus. That moment her eyes were soulful and dark, almost as if she admired his ambition.

Something was up, all of it felt like fiction.

Axel wondered at that second why she was asking Marcus and her, of all peasants and warriors of Londinium or Camelot

"With respect, why us?" Axel curiously questioned the Queen, interrogating her for the smallest amount of detail that could lead to a conclusion where this was going.

"You two are the best fighters of Camelot. And if I sent out the guards on a search mission, it would be obvious. To conclude your question is whether you're up for the job?" The Queen implied, making the information as discreet as possible.

But Axel acknowledged that this wasn't something of choice, this was her way either way. She gave a simple nod as her gaze fell to the stone and sand flooring.

"Good girl."

"Now, there's been a rumour that a man will pull a sword from the stone, woven and stuck, it doesn't matter. Londinium is covered with graffiti, symbolising a prophecy of the born King. I can't allow the rebels to go any further with this...fictitious fairy-tale. Taking my position of power after pulling a sword from the stone is utter nonsense. Bring me their heads, and you'll receive 'years' worth of wages." Queen Vortigern urged the two, executing the main objective before sending them after the rebels of Londinium.

"Sword woven into stone..." Axel mumbled, recognising there was a connection to the real world and her fictional dreams. This meant it was a warning, an omen, and a symbol of people's hope.

She couldn't blame the citizens for creating a prophecy. It was something the lost could hold onto.

"Done." Marcus finished Axel on her behalf, allowing the Queen's patience to not be wasted.

Axel paused when the Queen passed her, returning to her guards that stood at the entrance of the building.

"Why did you agree?" Axel questioned with frustration.

"We didn't have much of a choice, Axel. She would've had a grudge against us if we didn't comply-"

"We can't just kill a group of people who are just trying to hold onto hope. They're frightened, making the best of their day and praying that the Blackguards never return!" Axel exclaimed.

Marcus's expression softened and a deep sigh escaped his lungs, "Maybe we can just ask them to cool it on the graffiti?" Marcus suggested, hoping that there was a chance to fix his foolish intentions.

"If they cooperate, that is..." Axel trailed off.

"Londinium is ten miles away, you two will have to travel this afternoon and try to make it there by nightfall. We're having some issues with citizens smuggling in Camelot, that we need to take care of when you two are finished with the Queen's request. Furs and weapons should only have a specific amount. That's why the Vikings have been showing up more often than regularly." Alaric inquired, revealing a mess that citizens might get killed by the Queen if this isn't put to an end.

Axel acknowledged her Teacher's discovery and took note that they're not going to play by their rules, kindly asking them, and unarmed would be a suicide mission.

"We'll take care of it," Axel replied to Alaric.

Axel started to manifest signs that the Vikings weren't going to be leaving for a while, which could become problematic if religion or politics gets into the mix. But of course, Vikings didn't have any politics.

****

Axel observed as Marcus prepared their horses from the stables, next to his family's farmhouse. His home was located on the outside of Camelot, while Londinium was an hour and twenty minutes away from Camelot.

Marcus tossed her a fur coat. It nearly slipped from her grasp, she examined the light coloured, coat. Coloured white, grey, and black. I reminded her of a Caribou's pelt.

"What's this for?" She questioned, recalling that it was a decent temperature that day.

"To blend in, there are more Vikings within Londinium than Camelot."

"I'm not scared of Vikings, Marcus," Axel replied with the least amount of fear writhing through her body.

Marcus raised his brows and a wicked grin etched on his face. "You will be if you piss them off," Marcus warned Axel, reminding her of her temper.

The sky was like a canvas, a welcomed amber glow, the sun started to set in, with fresh colours of orange, gold, and pink brushed against the sky like an artist's canvas. Axel followed Marcus's lead over to the black and white speckled horse. He held the reins and offered her a hand to give her a boost. She held her hand out and refused Marcus's kind gesture.

Her gaze focused on perfect spheres of sunlight, vanishing into the open horizon beyond Camelot. She sighed deeply, knowing that this wasn't going to be the first time she was homesick.

Marcus handed her the reins after she climbed up onto the stallion. He paused, then turned back to Axel, lifting the edge fur on the stallion's saddle. Marcus discovered the sword she 'borrowed' from the Court of Fighters. Marcus shook his head with disappointment and crossed his arm, his expression was firm, indicating he didn't like what he saw.

"You should've just asked, Axel. Alaric won't be pleased by this. But I'm not saying anything this time." Marcus warned Axel.

Axel smiled sweetly, "Thanks." Marcus was just lucky that her thanks didn't come from a noose.

His face twisted in confusion, whether that sense of gratitude was fiction or reality. Axel felt eager and impatient to speak with the rebels. She only wanted to keep the peace, no one had to die. And that's what she anticipated.

"God save the Queen..." Axel mumbled releasing this was an awful idea, unsure whether this trip would turn bitter if the rebels didn't comply. Otherwise, she wouldn't have much of a decision, dealing with rebels was hardly ever a democracy.