My father and I have a lot more in common than anyone cares to admit. I guess violence and deceit must run in the family. I wonder what Uther’s father was like?
Of course, my grandfather wouldn’t have been able to do anything if it wern't for that wretched wizard. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if he had left well enough alone. He is never blamed for any of his actions, though. Not the kings wise advisor.
My Aunt may have done many things, but she never hid what she was. That was really what got her ostracized.
I haven't shred of magical talent myself. Maybe if I had she and I could have retired to our sorceries and ignored what was happening in real life. Still, I can’t really bring myself to care. I have little respect for wizards, that one in particular.
He gets away with everything because he is “an instrument of fate”. That’s the worst part of it. We can spend our entire lives fighting destiny, but he not only blindly accepts it, he helps it along! Well it certainly didn’t help him in the end, did it? The old goat got what he deserved. I wish Vivian well.
Anyway. My father.
He is supposed to be such a great leader, but he wheedled his way into the power the same way anyone else would. Nothing was different, except that his knights could roam around the country side, doing whatever they wished, while he hid up on his pedestal.
Meanwhile I had worse than nothing, simply because I didn’t have fortune on my side. Instead I was blessed with a mother who couldn’t even look at me. I was a memory of her ultimate shame. Her husband despised me simply because it was so obvious that I was not one of his progeny.
My brothers were all one of a kind: great hearty oafs with no greater ambition than to lord it over the weak and fawn over the people with real power. They were all part of my real fathers inner circle, except for Agravain. He always found himself not quite strong or brave or crafty enough. He was the only one who sympathized with me even slightly.
I would have met my end at the tender mercies of my mother’s family, or one of the other factions ready and willing to have me destroyed, if my aunt had not spirited me away. I will always thank her for that at least. She wasn’t doing it out of any particular love for me though. She only wanted a weapon to use against my father. I was the perfect embodiment of her malice towards him for destroying her life.
His court was so utterly different from what I was accustomed to. I was able to see past the facade immediately. Behind the gaiety and finery lay a den of inequity. What I saw was my father surrounded by his supposedly loyal followers, most of whom were related to him in one way or another. These were men busying themselves drinking and carousing, hiding from the wrongs they had committed when they bothered to acknowledge them. Either that, or they were out in the countryside picking fights with total strangers, despoiling maidens, and generally accosting the populace. They were particularly cruel to the fair folk, completely ignoring the fact that the most depraved practitioner of dark magic was still living among them. It seems ridiculous to me that anyone could mistake that for a utopia.
They might have gotten away with this indefinitely if they didn't have their imperative quest. They would have destroyed their little group without any intervention from me if it weren’t for Galahad.
He was slightly younger than me, a veritable scion of youthful beauty. As fair as I was dark. I did not harbor my usual apathy towards him, though. I once thought I would be disgusted by him. Everyone knew who his father was and that man was one of my least favorite people. He seemed to have everything handed to him. He was given wealth and an excellent education, and he was trained to fight by the masters. He was given a heroes welcome at court. I, on the other hand, had had to fight for everything, particularly my place in the pecking order, yet none of these things seemed to matter to him. But I saw the way he looked at his father, a man who refused to have anything to do with the son who idolized him and craved his approval, because the boy was evidence of his complete and utter inability to keep a promise to anyone.
Galahad was ignored by the only person who he wanted attention from. Even his mother neglected to love him enough to save her own life. So I felt an odd sort of kinship with him, even though we had so little to do with each other.
I always admired how he was always able to stay so good and so pure, even after those virtues got him killed for the sake of their indispensable mission. When Galahad died, so did the last shred of virtue in their supposedly great city.
There are those who would blame me for the end of this perfect age. I merely exposed the rotted roots of the things that had nothing to do with me. If anyone should be held responsible they should look to the queen. Or perhaps her lover, Galahads illustrious father.
I couldn’t stand the hypocrisy. For years I watched them cavorting with no one appearing to care or pay any attention because of who they were. It wasn’t fair. More than that, it wasn’t right. So I gathered the few allies I had and those I could trick into helping me and I exposed them. It must have been a blow to my father to finally be forced to see the truth.
Agravain was killed in the proceedings. I suppose it was partially my fault, but no one else seemed to care. He was the only one of my mother’s brood to have any worth. Now that he was gone there was nothing for me to do but bring the whole thing crashing down.
It still might have been resolved if my father had felt anything for me other than fear and loathing, but I was the result of his greatest sins. I was also proof that he betrayed his wife, not that she hadn’t done worse to him.
I should have been his heir. I was the closest thing he had to one. If fate hadn’t declared my life a tragedy maybe I would have been born to him properly, and given a real chance to fix things. As it stands we were doomed before it even began. My father had committed atrocities trying to get rid of me. Maybe he thought that if I was gone once and for all that he could salvage his life, or at least make it mean something. It wasn’t hard for him really. I am not really a fighter. All I had to protect me was my own persistence.
Nine times he hurt me, with a sword that was famed for ensuring death after even the most superficial of wounds. Finally he resorted to using an ordinary spear. I was his dark shadow. I was what he so easily could have become if he hadn’t been so obscenely lucky. Yet he was prepared to vanquish me like some sort of ghost or serpent without a second thought.
That was the final insult. I couldn't let hi, just walk away after smiting his own kin.
So I made sure that his bloodline would end with me, and I took us both to the underworld.
Grabbed me instantly. 
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