Men screamed in pain clutching their grievous wounds as bows twang sending snakes of death into the never ending army. The castle walls stood high defiantly in face of such ferious siege weapon its proud back straight. The siege towers lumbered on slowly at a snail pace.

"Fire!" The captain ordered suddenly as catapults unleashed waves of death destroying siege weapons and burning men alike.

Arthur was on a horse in a long black fur coat. His attention on the captain. The captain looked familiar. His golden locks and brown eyes. He wore a familiar armor as well with a rose pinned to the right breast plate. Arthur realized that was him. An older him. The golden locks slowly formed streaks of grey, the brown eyes deepening with age. Wrinkles appeared on the man's face.

Arthur kept staring. Thick blankets of snow fell from the sky clashing with the blood and grey of the kingdom. His kingdom.

An enormous body of water broke out of the city walls. Arthur pulled his horse back in an attempt to flee but he couldn't. It was too late. The water splashed on his frightened horse who in turn neighed. Arthur fell from it's back, he was drowning in the salty water.

Black arms circled around him as he drowned. Under the water he could smell rotten skin. The dead. They gripped and pulled him. Touching his face, shoulder and arms.

Under the water he could still hear them. Catapults and trebuchets fired from both sides furiously trying to gain the advantage. Rams battered at the gate as oil ran down with feet. He could hear men running in anguish as they were burnt from the substance. He could hear their screams.

Then he gasped.

His eyes opened to the beige material of his bedpost, illuminated by the somber light of the lamp. Zhollo was stirred in her sleep, her eyes opening slightly, "Where are you off to so late in the night? The city sleeps, so should you." Sleep was still heavy in her voice, Arthur only smiled and kissed her head before pulling the covers over her. She began drifting back to sleep.

His left hand roaming around the surface of his nearby drawer, touching the jug of water mixed with lemon tarts. He poured some in a cup, then spat it out and repeated the process till his breath was fresh.

Arthur carefully made his way round the bedpost towards the mirror in the front. He bent down, opening a cabinet and retrieved a familiar crimson ash pot. He held it in his right hand, turning and twisting it. Arthur was meant to sprinkle it in the Pool of Mæmoris as soon as he came back from the ceremony but he forgot. He didn't know why but he felt now was the best time to do it. To talk to his mother.

He tucked the pot under his arms and went out to the poorly lit hallway. He was making his way towards the tiny Cætidran that his grandfather built during his reign. When he caught the faint light from a door he'd forgotten was even there. Queen Evelyn—his mother—rarely worshipped in the Cætin way, she preferred the old gods. The greek gods to be exact.

During Arthur's childhood they would go to the old temple to pray. The greek gods and goddesses statues always surprised Arthur even though he'd been there a million times. Deciding to visit the Cætidran later, Arthur took a right and crawled under the temple's opening. Over the years, dirt had been filling up that spot and no one bothered to clean it out as the old gods were no longer worshipped.

It looked just like Arthur had remembered the golden floor that was now covered in dirt and overgrown tree roots. The grey statues half wrapped with spider webs and vines from a tree positioned in the middle. The tree grew into the dark open sky with little twinkling stars and the shining moon.

The temple was always visited in the morning but night time brought out its ethereal look. It gave it more grace, more divinity if you could put it that way. Slowly Arthur walked around, naming the statues as he touched them.

"Zeus." The king god had an eagle perched on his left shoulders. His arms crossed adding to the stoic serious look in his stony eyes. He wore a toga and what seemed like sandals if the slab wasn't breaking.

"Apollo and his bow." A handsome man with a golden bow in one arm and a harp in the other. He was the god of music, archery and the sun. Next to his statue was his twin, Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and the night. These two were his favourite. He liked their songs and tales best.

He moved on to his favourite goddess, "Hecate and her monkey." Sometimes the gods were pictured with their animal companion which they could transform into. For the goddess of magic that animal was a monkey. A cute little thing with long arms and tail dangling from the goddess's shoulder.

Arthur kept doing this. Lost in memories and pure beauty. He reached the last statue, "Hermes." The god of travelling, road wealth and the messenger of Zeus. He wore winged sandals with a toga and in his right arm was his staff of two snakes. Hermes was Arthur's least favourite. Maybe it was because Hermes was his absentee father or maybe because of him, the Melik would never accept Arthur as their rightful king or heir. Maybe. Maybe.

Arthur finished his rounds and said a quick prayer at every god's statue in honor of his mother. He asked for different things based on their abilities. Wisdom from the goddess Athena. Strength from the god Ares. A good marriage from the goddess Hera. And plenty harvest from the goddesses Demeter and Persephone.

Early morning prayer candles were already lit in the Cætidran by the time Arthur came. The Royal Pæstor was praying silently at the foot of the Father's statue. Arthur walked towards the Pool of Mæmoris, careful and calculative. His head filled with a thousand questions and things to say to his dead mother. What do I say? How would I see her? Would she love to see me?

He opened the ash pot carefully so as not to pour any on the grey floor. Tilting the pot towards the pool, it's contents sprinkled on top the clean blue surface. The grey and blue mixed to form a beautiful canvas. It was so pure, so peaceful. The content had completely emptied, Arthur didn't know what to do next. Was he to say a prayer?

Slowly the grey particles rose swirling together making the familiar figure of Queen Evelyn, his mother. She smiled at him, her brown eyes twinkled like the golden earrings that adorned her ears. Her skin was a healthy shade of pale worn over it, a dress of pale blue silk highlighted with golden lace. The stones on her dress were nothing compared to that of her beautiful diadem, red and gold. It was her favourite and the one among many they had her burnt with.

Tears filled the rim of his eyes. The Pæstor left with the sound of a door. "Mother, I miss you dearly." Words couldn't describe how much he missed his lovely mother. Her death created an empty hole he longed to fill in.

"I know. I miss you too," his mother smiled sadly. "You are doing good, right? You are eating well and taking care of Zhollo like you promised, aren't you?" During her early sick days, his lady mother had asked Arthur to take care of Zhollo as best as he could. Even marry her if he had the chance. That was how dear Zhollo was to her. Arthur would have done it regardless but now he would do it with more zeal, knowing his mother had asked it of him.

"Yes. Yes. I am as well as Zhollo," he said. "Mother, tell me. Are you happy?" Ever since her wake, another question that filled his head was if she was happy. If she was truly at peace.

"Yes, I am. Though I wish you were here with me," she said. "Afterlife is splendid." She started recounting what her after life was. Apparently, when you die your soul would be judged based on how much good you did in your life. And depending on that, you would be sent to the necessary place. His mother—Queen Evelyn—was sent to a guest chamber that she calls, "Vanile."

They had thousands of rooms and dining halls. The food, drinks and feasts were endless. Every time a new member joined, family members and ancestors would have a feast welcoming them to the sweet joy of the afterlife. "My chambers look just like the one here. It has the additional terrace as well."

Arthur smiled as he listened to his mother as she continued rambling about her afterlife. He loved when she spoke about things she passionately loved. From roses to bells to Vanile. She talked about them all.

"And there is a fountain that—oh!" a bell rang from behind her. She blushed embarrassed, "I—uhm—I have something to attend to."

"Yes. I need to ask you something, mother," he had almost forgotten what he'd come here for. "I mean to lift the magic ban."

Evelyn paused, her lips in a thin line, "If you think that is the right thing then. Do it. I will always support you." with that she kissed his forehead and the grey particles returned to their normal state. Floating on the pond's surface.