Capítulo 3: Chapter 3 (Rewrite)
===Godrick one year after finding out Artoria's real identity===
"Get up." Sir Agravain said ruthlessly.
The young Godrick had fallen to his hands and knees, his nose bleeding profusely before he wiped it away with his left hand, leaving blood smeared on his bare arm.
"I said GET UP!" Agravain snarled, kicking the young boy in the ribs, sending Godrick across the small arena they were training in.
Godrick was left heaving on the ground before he picked himself up, grabbing his heavy dull sword before using it to help himself stand. He then ripped the blade from the ground and held it in both hands as Agravain approached, glancing across the arena to see his sister, though he was forced to call her his brother, training with Sir Gawain.
She was doing infinitely better than he was, and was able to keep up with her teacher. Gawain was clearly taking it easy on her, choosing to take the more mild approach, correcting her gently when she made a mistake.
Sir Agravain was the complete opposite, punishing Godrick when he made a mistake by striking him with his halberd, or his fist.
"Keep your eyes on me boy, not your brother!" Agravain said, smashing the butt end of his halberd into Godricks stomach, punishing him for getting distracted.
The young boy doubled over before Agravains foot came up, and snapped his head back, causing more blood to pour from his nose.
Godrick fell to the ground, his hands coming to his nose before he rolled over and got back to his hands and knees, blood dripping onto the stone beneath him.
"Come on, get angry!" Agravain prodded, smacking the boy in the back with the shaft of his weapon.
Godrick's scars flared up, causing him to lock up. After a couple moments he finally relaxed and got to his feet, holding his sword up.
"That's more like it." Agravain said, encouraging the boy.
Godrick lunged, his sword held out in front of him before it was smacked to the side. Agravain capitalized on the opening, throwing his gauntleted fist into the boy's face, throwing him backwards.
Godrick caught himself, and ducked under Agravains halberd as it flew over his head.
The Knight was overwhelming, giving the boy no time to collect himself as he pressured Godrick.
"Come on, get angry, stop thinking and react!" The Knight yelled, whipping his weapon up and around before it smashed into Godrick's dull sword, throwing the boy back into the wall.
He slumped to the ground before he scrambled to his right, narrowly missing the metal clad boot that almost put itself through the stone wall behind him.
Agravain continued to throw Godrick around the arena as Artoria watched from a balcony, Sir Lancelot by her side.
"He's being too hard on the boy." Lancelot said, gripping the stone railing.
He stood up to walk out of the room before Artoria flicked her hand out, stopping him.
"Let him be." her deep distorted voice said.
"But call him to my study after he's done with Godrick." She instructed.
Lancelot paused for a moment before he nodded, and walked out of the room.
Artoria continued to watch the spectacle below her, intrigued about what would happen when her adoptive son was pushed too far.
"Don't think, just do!" Agravain yelled, finally catching Godrick with his felt hand, throwing him back into the wall behind the boy before stabbing forwards with his halberd.
The boy was able to dodge, but the weapon ended up cutting into the right side of his chest as he threw his arm into the air to try and dodge the blow.
It cut deep, and Godrick fell to his left as his right hand dropped the blade he was holding, and clenched his side.
He back peddled before he slipped, and fell back onto his rear end.
"I guess you'll die then!" Agravain said, raising his halberd before bringing it down on Godrick. The Knight saw the fear in the young boy's eyes, and would direct his halberd to just nick the boy. But then what he had been trying to get the boy to do, happened.
The young boy reacted on instinct, and rolled to his left as he got out of the blade's way. Rolling to his feet he stepped forward and threw a punch straight into Agravains chest.
The man was able to bring his halberds shaft up to meet the blow, but what he didn't expect was that his weapon, which was one meant for training even though it was made out of pure steel, would bend towards himself.
Agravain himself reacted on instinct, his years of self preservation and training as a warrior taking over.
He pulled back his right fist, and threw it full force into the child's face, knocking the boy from his feet, straight into the wall behind him.
Godrick's head cracked against the stone, making everyone in the training arena stop and look over at him.
He stood in shock before looking down at his own fist before dropping the bent halberd and rushing over to the boy.
He checked Godrick's pulse, and made sure he was alright before he went to grab the boy and take him into the castle when he was suddenly pushed aside.
"Move!" Lancelot said forcefully before picking Godrick up in his arms and quickly walking inside the castle, calling for a healer.
Agravain stood there, motionless as everyone around him stared at him. He lowered his head in shame as he made his way towards where Lancelot had left, following him into the castle.
A short while after, Agravain stood before his King, Morgan, Lancelot, Gawain, and a few other knights standing around him as his King sat at her desk, her fingers tapping on the table as she looked at him.
"I'm sorry, your Majesty. I don't know what happened." He said.
Lancelot just scoffed before he made to speak, but a gesture from Artoria cut him off.
"Tell me your reasoning for your method of training the boy so ruthlessly?" The King's distorted voice asked.
"My reason was simple. I believe that the best learning happens in fast paced environments where one must not think, but act. Or get punished." He replied.
"I see. And striking him with your weapon?" She asked.
"To punish him. He will quickly learn through the pain of battle." He responded.
Artoria just hummed before her fingers stopped tapping the table.
"And the last strike?" She asked.
Agravain just stayed silent for a moment before he responded.
"He did what I had been teaching him to do. React on instinct. Every Knight here knows that in the heat of battle, you don't have time to think things through. You need to react on instinct. He did just that, and hit me with all his strength. At that moment, it was like I was fighting an opponent on equal ground as myself, and my own instincts took over." He said, lowering his head in shame.
"But you understand that he can't be healed like the rest of us right? You know the brand on his back is some form of dark magic, preventing him from receiving healing from our medics and magicians" She finished, frustration creeping into her voice.
"So does that mean that he should just stay on the sidelines, forever coddled because he can't be healed? Maybe he should figure that out for himself, but how can he if he is never given the chance!?" Agravain said, his own voice rising.
"Watch yourself Agravain. You speak to our King." Lancelot said, his left hand going to the hint of his sword.
Artoria was silent a moment before she stood up and walked over to the balcony behind her desk.
"I saw what happened, and felt his killing intent myself." She said, making the other Knights shift around in discomfort and disbelief.
"Impossible. He's only a child." Lancelot said.
"Yes, but he is no longer shackled to that rock." She said, turning around and looking at the gathered knights.
"He is free to fight back now. Sir Agravain," She said, turning towards him.
"I saw how he struggled with the sword. I wish for you to find him a weapon that suits him. You will train him how to use it, then Sir Lancelot will take him under his tutelage. Is that understood?" She asked.
"Yes your Majesty!" Sir Agravain, and Sir Lancelot said together.
===
Later that evening, Godrick woke up in his bed, head throbbing.
"Ow." He said, bringing his hand up to his skull.
"Hey!" Mordred said, leaping onto his bed.
He flinched back as she crawled across the bed, stopping inches from his face.
He leaned back a bit as she looked into his eyes before a worried expression made its way to her face.
"Are you OK?" She asked.
"You took a big hit earlier." She said, pulling his face down towards her as she tried to look at the back of his head.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" He said, pulling himself from her grip.
"I'm OK!" He responded, his head throbbing.
Suddenly Morgan walked in through the door and greeted them coldly before walking over to him, and removing his bandage.
She clicked her tongue before grabbing a damp cloth and cleaning his head. Godrick sat through the pain, his head shifting back and forth as she cleaned his bloody hair.
"Mama Morgan, why do you not like Mama Artoria?" He asked innocently.
She stopped for a moment before she continued cleaning the back of his head.
"You wouldn't understand, young one." She responded.
"But I don't like how you talk to each other. It makes me sad." He said, looking up into her face.
She stared down at him coldly before she rolled her eyes and sighed before dipping the washcloth into the water and wringing it out, the diluted blood pouring from it.
"Imagine if Mordred here was given everything, while you were ignored? Would you be upset?" She asked.
"That wouldn't be fair!" He said, looking over to his sister.
"That's right. You wouldn't like that, would you?" She said coldly before continuing to clean the back of his head.
"But she would share with me, right?" He asked, looking over to young Mordred, who vigorously nodded her head.
"But what if she didn't? How would you feel?" She asked the six year old.
"I'd be mad." He answered.
"Exactly. That wouldn't make you feel very good would it?" She said, looking him in the eyes.
"But I would ask her to share with me. And because she's my sister she would share with me!" He vehemently said, to which Mordred agreed.
Morgan just sighed as she knew Godrick wouldn't understand what she was getting at before he asked another question that made her stop and think.
"Did you ask mama Artoria to share with you?" He asked.
Morgan stopped and thought for a moment.
"It's much more complicated than that." She finally said.
"I think if you ask her, she will share with you." He said before he quickly got out of the bed, and ran with Mordred to the door before he turned around and gave her a smile with missing teeth.
He quickly opened the door for Mordred, her running out of it before he quickly followed.
"Foolish boy." Morgan said as she looked down at the cloth in her hand.
She frowned at it, seeing it completely clear of any blood.
"Interesting." She thought to herself as she dropped the clean cloth back into the bloody water.
===Godrick, Age Seven, One year After Beginning His Training With Lancelot===
Godrick and Mordred both stood in front of Camelot's Throne surrounded by the knights of the round table, as well as the nobility who sat in their booths before the door behind the Throne opened.
They all took a knee, heads lowered as Artoria entered. She finally sat on her Throne, throwing her long white cape from behind her as she sat.
She looked down at the two children before her distorted voice rang through the vast hall.
"You both have performed adequately in your training. Mordred, your skill with the sword is rapidly improving, and I am proud of you for the Knight you are becoming." Artoria said, praising her.
She then turned to Godrick and praised him as well.
"Godrick. You have shown incredible restraint in keeping your strength in check, and I know I am not the only one eager to see what you will do when we release you on our enemies." She said with a slight chuckle. The rest of the Knights who had seen him in his training all laughed as well, imagining what kind of a monster he would be when he was older.
"Now!" The King said, suddenly standing from her Throne.
"We have been in a brutal conflict with the Warlord for many years now. She has pillaged, burned, and raped our lands for too long. Today, I am announcing that we begin a campaign of war that will shake the very foundations of our world!" She said pointing behind her with her gauntleted fist.
"Out there, is our enemy! Out there, King Gorfyddyd (Gore-feth-id) has allied himself with the Warlord, and has betrayed us!" She shouted, causing others in the crowd to start mermering.
"I have tasked Sir Lancelot to bring the Kingdom of Powys to its knees." She exclaimed before Lancelot raised his hand for the cheering of the nobility and other knights in the room.
"My Sons will join him, where they will learn under his tutelage, and be forged into Knights themselves in the flames of war!"
This was met with much cheering, but Godrick and Mordred were nervous. The young girl reached out for her brother's hand ever so slightly as they were right next to each other.
Godrick took it, and felt her shaking slightly. He could feel his own nerves getting to him before their mother walked down towards them, and raised them from their knees.
"Worry not. You won't see any combat for a couple years yet." She whispered to them reassuringly.
===Godrick, Age Eight, One Year Later===
"Release me!" A man said as he was dragged through the mud and rain to a stone in the center of a group of Knights before being kicked to his knees before King "Arthur".
King Gorfyddyd of the Kingdom of Powys had initiated a war on Camelot from the west, which Artoria had quickly and brutally brought her sword down on.
Artoria had many more things to worry about, as the Warlord was still ravaging the whole of England, and King Gorfyddyd's war was just another annoyance that she had to deal with.
Artoria wore her lion shaped helmet to hide her face, but Gorfyddyd, who was kneeling in the mud, shit, and blood instantly recognized her.
"So, the whore lover comes to pass judgment on me and my men!" He shouted before being viciously backhanded by Lancelot who stood next to him.
Gorfyddyd spat a mouthful of blood before looking back up at the King of Knights.
"How is the whore my Lord? Laying on her back for one of your knight's?" He asked before being struck again by Lancelot.
"You will not speak of Lady Guinevere like that again." Lancelot hissed in a dangerous voice
"And why not? She didn't seem to mind me calling her that when she was beneath me?" Gorfyddyd said.
Lancelot raised his hand again before Artoria snapped at him to stay his hand. Lancelot reluctantly obeyed, lowering his hand as his King moved to stand in front of Gorfyddyd.
"You have made a terrible mistake this day, Gorfyddyd. I dont have the time, nor the patience to deal with your little war. So I will end it here and now." She said before Gorfyddyd's bloody face sneered as he looked up at the King of Knights knowing she was bluffing.
"You speak big words for a King already at war. Killing me will only fan the flames. Do you really think you can fight on two fronts?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
"Of course not. But a kingdom that never wanted a war in the first place, won't want a second one." She said, taking an item from one of her aids before dropping a sheet of parchment in the mud next to him.
"I know that the Warlord promised you a portion of Camelot. And that your counsel advised you against starting the war. Once you are dead, one of my Sons will take the throne, and he will be a better King than you ever were." She said.
Gorfyddyd's face had gone pale at the mention of the parchment, but he didn't plead for his life or anything like that.
"fine. What are you going to do now then Arthur? Kill me?" He asked, resigned to being executed.
"Yes, but I will not be the one to kill you." She said before turning and motioning a young man forward.
He was a bit taller than her, and had long golden hair that had been tied behind his head with a leather band.
His piercing blue eyes looked down at Gorfyddyd, seeing him as nothing more than a nuisance to be taken care of.
He wore no armor, only wearing his soaking wet clothes before he removed his shirt, revealing his muscular physique. He wasn't overly muscular, but the Knights that made up the ring around them knew that the young man in front of them was deceptively strong, almost surpassing most of the Knights of the round table at the age of eight.
"You'll have your welp fight me?" Gorfyddyd said, offended at the challenge before him.
"If you kill young Godrick here, you and your army will go free. If he kills you, then your army will still go free, but unarmed and with their sword hands broken." Artoria said, stepping back into the circle next to Lancelot.
"I am a King, and you would insult me by making me fight a mere boy for my freedom!" Gorfyddyd raged, having been released from the chains that bound him.
"You should have nothing to fear if he's nothing more than a mere boy. It should be easy for you to win your freedom should it not?" Artoria answered him.
She motioned two of her Knights to throw two swords into the ring, and two swords landed in the mud between Godrick and Gorfyddyd.
"You pick first." The young man said.
Gorfyddyd just snarled before he reached down and picked the sword closest to Godrick, thinking it would be the better blade.
The young man just smiled before he too, reached down and picked the sword up out of the mud, holding its blade up to wash it of the mud.
Rolling his shoulders he held the sword lazily as he looked at his opponent, who was staring at him in turn.
"Come on little piggy, come to me!" Gorfyddyd said, holding his sword next to his face in his right hand, while his left was outstretched in front of him.
"Here the pig stands Gorfyddyd. Waiting for your fat ass to come get him." Godrick retorted.
With a bellow, Gorfyddyd charged forward, lunging forward with his sword.
The blade passed Godrick as he took a step to his left and leaned back before his own blade whipped up and smacked Gorfyddyd's away before he parried another slash from his opponent's blade and then ducked under another.
"My, old, and slow." Godrick taunted, walking with his back towards Gorfyddyd after having ducked the slash.
Gorfyddyd continued to swipe at Godrick, but the boy continued to dodge, periodically batting his opponent's sword away with his own.
Gorfyddyd was now beginning to slow down now, breathing hard as he held his sword low.
He was beginning to see that this was no fight, but an execution. A spectacle to grow this boy's reputation and renown as Godrick the kingslayer. A boy who killed a king in single combat. No doubt Artoria would pay her poets to embellish the story for the young man.
"Damn you." Gorfyddyd spat at Artoria.
"This is the price you pay for your betrayal. The best you can hope for is a swift death." She simply said.
He turned to his opponent, seeing Godrick's slick figure, wet from the rain.
"GAAAHH!!!" Gorfyddyd raised his sword and charged, only for Godrick to do the same.
Though, when they reached each other, Godricks blade shattered his own, sending shrapnel towards the crowd.
Godrick passed by Gorfyddyd, sliding in the mud as he spun around before coming to a stop.
Where he made his first, and last lunge of the duel.
Gorfyddyd had turned, only for Godrick to drive his blade into the King's chest up to the hilt.
"How dare you speak to my mother that way." He hissed.
The two were as close as they could be, so no one heard what the young man had said save for Gorfyddyd, whose eyes went wide.
"Moth-" He began to say before Godrick twisted his blade before cutting to his left, bisecting Gorfyddyd in half at the chest, as well as cutting off Gorfyddyd's right arm.
The King made a mewing noise as he fell, but soon died face down in the mud, blood and shit.
Godrick had never killed a man before, and as the anger he had felt at the man faded, he stared down at the corpse.
It all suddenly came back to him. The massacre at the village. Men, women, and children being butchered and used for sport just like King Gorfyddyd had been. He saw the fire, and heard the screams as he remembered what had happened, suddenly feeling chains wrap around his arms once more, and the bite of the whip on his back.
He began to shake uncontrollably, and he began to breathe heavily as he dropped the sword into the mud before he took a step back.
Suddenly, he felt Artoria grabbed him by one shoulder and turned him around, forcing him to look into her eyes.
"I'm just like her." He choked out to his mother.
"I'm just like the Warlord. Using this man just as she used me." He said with a shuddering breath.
"Godrick, if you are to be one of my knight's, you must understand the fragility of human life." She said to him, shaking him gently.
"You must not hesitate when you are on the battlefield, or you will die, Do You Understand Me?" She said, tightening her hold on his shoulders and shaking him slightly.
"Yes." He said in his shaky voice.
"Good." She said, bringing him into a hug.
"You must understand that this world is cruel. So be cruel when you must, and be kind when you can." She told him before breaking their embrace.
"What do we do with the rest of the prisoners?" Lancelot asked, stepping forward and looking out across the beaten army of Powys.
"Break the thumbs of their right hands, then send them home." Artoria said, wanting them to not be able to hold a sword for a season or two.
"Understood my King." Lancelot said, bowing before going about his grim work.
Godrick watched Lancelot walk away, and made to walk after him before Artoria stopped him with her gauntleted hand.
"You've been tailing him for a year now. I'm sure a day's rest would do you good." She said to him in her distorted voice.
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