Wrath of Arthur: The Cursed Bloodline

Nyelle threw herself forward, raising her arms just in time.

A translucent magical shield appeared in front of her—just as Jorlen's spell collided.

The impact cracked the barrier but didn't break it. In just a moment Arthur darted to her side and leapt forward toward Jorlen, hand on his blade handle.

But before he could reach him—

"Seldr'ma Var!" Jorlen chanted again.

Suddenly, Arthur's feet stuck to the floor—like they were fused to floor. He grunted, struggling to lift even a toe. His muscles tensed as if frozen.

Jorlen raised his hand for another spell—

But Nyelle reacted fast, flinging a pulse of flashing light straight at his face.

Jorlen flinched, blinded for a second.

"Now!" she shouted.

Arthur yanked his legs free—his shoes ripped off, still stuck to the floor—by launching himself off the nearest wall and then towards Jorlen.

Jorlen's eyes shot open—

Crack!

Arthur slammed the hilt of his sword sideways into Jorlen's head.

The sorcerer flew backward, crashing against the wall with a thud before collapsing, unconscious.

Silence fell across the room, heavy and still.

Arthur landed, barefoot and breathing hard.

"That… was close," he muttered.

Nyelle let out a breath of relief, lowering her hands."Yeah. But we're not done yet." 

Jorlen groaned, his eyes fluttering open on floor—only to find Arthur standing infront him, sword drawn, the blade resting cold against his neck.

Across the room, Nyelle stood quietly, holding the green-glowing pendulum in one hand and the small magic book in the other.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "How did you get this?"

Jorlen didn't speak.

The sword pressed closer.

"I—I stole it!" Jorlen blurted, his voice shaky. "A noble from Drakoria… he stopped in this village looking for a ride to Valoria. I stole a small box at the station from him. I broke it open, thinking there'd be something valuable."

"It had that green locket and this weird book. I thought it was a child's journal at first, but when I read a few lines—some kind of… magic happened. I couldn't understand it fully, but it worked. I just tried experimenting."

Nyelle. "That explains it."

She glanced at Arthur.

"He's a commoner with no proper training, there is no way he could use that foul magic. But this pendant, it's an amplifier. It boosts magical ability."

Arthur's expression darkened. "Then why did you use it on Mr. Boro?"

Jorlen's eyes widened with panic. He stammered, "H-He kept asking for the money I borrowed from him… and I didn't have it. I thought—I just wanted to shut him up."

Meanwhile, Nyelle flipped through the book quickly, her brow furrowed. "The curse remedy… it should be here…"

She paused.

Some pages were torn—ripped out.

She turned sharply to Jorlen. "Where are the missing pages?"

He hesitated again, but Arthur's glare made him flinch. He raised a shaky finger toward a nearby desk drawer. "T-There. I throwed them there, coz those magic is not working for me."

Nyelle rushed over, pulled the drawer open, and found a crumpled bundle of parchment. She scanned the text quickly. "This is it."

Without wasting another moment, she grabbed the pendant and the book and ran out toward the house to treat Mr. Boro.

Arthur stayed behind. He took a length of rope from the shelf, tied Jorlen's hands behind his back, and marched him through the village to the local guard outpost.

By the time Arthur arrived at the Mr Boro house, Nyelle was there with Mr. Boro, the crumpled parchment in one hand and the green pendant glowing faintly in the other. She whispered the last words of the cleansing incantation, and a soft pulse of green light passed over Boro's body like a wave.

His twitching stopped. The tension in his face relaxed.

And finally, with a weak cough, Mr. Boro's eyes fluttered open.

He gasped for air, confused, then slowly sat up with Nyelle's help.

He then welled with tears almost instantly.

"You saved me…" he choked, trying to sit up as tears rolled down his cheeks. 

Arthur steadied him by the shoulders. "It's over now. You're alright."

Boro gripped Arthur's forearm with trembling fingers, then looked at Nyelle. "You two—thank you. Truly. If you hadn't come..."

"I saw him," Boro whispered. "Jorlen. That snake. He gave me that apple when I came by the market yesterday to ask for the money he borrowed from me. I should've known something was off, with his attitude—damn fool I am."

Arthur nodded solemnly. "He's already tied up and handed over to the village guards. He won't be hurting anyone else."

Boro wiped his face with his sleeve and stood. "You risked your lives for me. That… I'll never forget. But who are you guys why you came lookin for me"

Nyelle said, "We needed the horse carriage to Drakoria, and things happened"

"Ohh, you lookin for a ride," Boro said, his voice firm now. "You need to get to Drakoria, right?"

Arthur nodded. "If it's not too much trouble."

Boro gave a chuckle, his smile returning. "Trouble? After what you did? I'll take you both all the way to the royal gate if I have to. I'm completely healed now, give me a second, I'll gear up" and added, "Again, Thank you… both of you."

And just like that, their journey began—toward Drakoria.

The next day – Reached the Capital of Drakoria

The carriage finally rolled to a gentle stop just outside a towering, vine-laced structure on marble and ancient runes glowed faintly across the walls.

Arthur stepped down and stared up in awe.

"This," Nyelle said, "is the Grand Library of Luminaris."

Arthur blinked. "That's… a library?"

"Drakoria takes knowledge seriously," she smirked.

Inside, the air was thick with old parchment, incense, and silence. Massive shelves reached toward the ceiling, filled with dusty tomes and sealed scrolls. A few cloaked scholars moved about like ghosts.

Near the central table sat a lean but tall bald headed man, hunched over a stack of ancient books. His grey robe was neat. He grunted without looking up.

"If you've come to waste my time asking for love spells or anti-snore chants, turn back."

Nyelle stepped forward. "Scholar Varnel."

The man froze mid-sentence, pen dangling awkwardly in the air. Slowly, he raised his head, eyes widening. "P-Princess Nyelle. Forgive me—I assumed…"

Arthur stepped in beside her.

Varnel's gaze immediately narrowed. "Who's this?"

"This is Arthur," Nyelle said. "He's here to research a magical anomaly we witnessed. He needs access to the Restricted Archives."

Varnel raised an eyebrow. "Restricted Archives are limited for nobles, Your Highness. And scholars. And people who wear shoes in matching pairs."

Arthur looked down—his boots were torn and tied by weak and loose knits from the fight with Jorlen in Elegen's Rest.

Nyelle crossed her arms. "Scholar Varnel."

He stiffened.

She smiled. "Grant him permission."

Varnel grumbled something under his breath and stood up, adjusting his robes. "Very well. One hour. No stealing. No scribbling. No drooling on the parchment."

"I don't drool," Arthur muttered.

Varnel squinted. "You look like the type."

As they followed Varnel through towering halls lined with arcane symbols and protective enchantments, Arthur whispered to Nyelle, "His baldhead is shining even in the dark, is that magic too?"

She stifled a laugh.

They entered a sealed chamber deep within the library. Varnel traced a glowing rune, unlocking a circular wall panel that slid open with a hiss. Inside: tomes bound in dragon hide, scrolls etched on silverleaf, and strange books that hummed quietly to themselves.

Arthur glanced around, stunned. "You sure I'm even allowed to breathe in here?"

"Not loudly," Varnel muttered from behind, flipping open a thick black tome. "Here. Volume IX—Forbidden Manifestations. And this entire row of books—those are loosely tied to what you described. But you're not allowed upstairs."

Nyelle frowned. "Why"

Varnel, "Because it would be treason, Princess. The upper floor holds state secrets, war records, ancient parchments—things even most royals aren't allowed to see. Definitely not for this outsider."

Arthur agrees. "Ok."

Nyelle gave him a nod, and the three of them began digging through the books. The silence was heavy but focused.

Then just after 10 minutes, Arthur was out cold, face buried in a large book, drool slowly creeping down.

Nyelle looked over and giggled. "He is cute", she thought, shaking her head.

Varnel sighed loudly, pulled out a small stick from his robe, and zapped Arthur with a jolt of magic.

"Gah—!" Arthur jerked awake.

"I told you. No drooling. On the sacred texts. Commoner."

Arthur rubbed his eyes, half-asleep. "Sorry... my bad."

Varnel clenched his teeth, and thought, "This guy. Why is the princess helping him? What's with the redish monster they are talking about..."

"Keep searching.", he said.

Despite flipping through dozens of pages, they found nothing substantial. Some vague descriptions but none that matched the red-black figure that overtook Arthur.

By evening, Arthur yawned and stretched, walking along the back shelf. His eyes caught a strange-looking tome—old, torn, and bound in cracked black leather.

Just as he reached for it—DONGGGG.

A deep bell echoed through the chamber.

Varnel straightened. "That's the closing bell. We need to leave. Now."

"The seal resets soon," Nyelle added. "If we don't exit before that, we're locked in until morning."

The three of them hurried out of the chamber, the door behind them sliding shut with a hiss just as they stepped through.

As they stepped out of the sealed library room, the large stone doors closed behind them with a slow thud.

"Thank you for your time, Scholar Varnel," Nyelle said politely.

Varnel gave a stiff nod. "Of course, Princess. And you"—he looked at Arthur—"stop drooling on parchments."

Arthur gave a half-smile. "I'll try."

They walked down the hallway in silence, footsteps echoing lightly. As they exited the grand library building, the evening sun cast a golden red hue across the marble steps.

Waiting near the gate was a luxurious black and gold carriage, flanked by two royal guards. A royal servant stood nearby, holding the reins of a pristine white horse.

Arthur blinked. "Looks like your ride's here."

Nyelle hesitated. Her gaze lingered on Arthur.

"…Yeah," she said softly, almost wishing it hadn't arrived so soon.

The servant bowed. "Princess, your carriage is ready. His Majesty was informed of your visit to the capital."

Arthur gave her a small nod. "Thanks for everything. For saving me… for guiding me here."

He took a few steps backward, toward the cobblestone path.

"I'll take my leave to Cravendorn… to find that trader. And my locket."

Nyelle nodded, trying to hide the sudden sadness in her eyes. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

There was a brief silence.

Then Arthur turned, adjusting the sword on his back.

He started walking away.

And Nyelle stood there for a moment longer, watching his figure going distant—unsure why she suddenly felt little sad.

Royal guard, "Princess is there a problem."

Nyelle, "No, lets go" , as she gets into the carriage.