Arthur had thought himself the only witness of Merlin's purity.
For twenty years, she had been his companion — small, radiant, untouchable. He had never asked for more than her hand in his, the trembling brush of her fingers.
But the night betrayed him.
He wandered the crooked lanes of the hamlet, drawn by sounds he could not name: guttural laughter, the scrape of boots, the muffled cries of a girl. He followed, heart pounding, until the barn door opened just enough for him to see.
There she was.
Merlin, his Merlin, the last flower of youth in the village — on her knees among the gray-bearded men. Their bodies pressed around her like vultures at carrion. She moved with a strange devotion, her lips, her hands, her whole slight body serving them in turn.
And she smiled.
Not with joy, but with the obedience of one convinced.
The men whispered to her as she worked, their voices sickly sweet:
"This is not sex, child. This is filial piety, gratitude. Real love is sacred. Save that for the one you cherish."
And she believed them. Arthur saw it in her eyes, soft, burning with that same obsession she always turned toward him. Even as she shuddered under their touch, she thought herself untainted.
Arthur's chest burned.
He gripped the wood of the door until splinters cut his palm, but he did not move. He could not. Rage boiled in him, hatred not only for the men, but for the lie that had twisted her. For the sight of her body offered so freely — yet never to him.
She laughed once, nervous, as one of them pulled her closer.
Her voice, once innocent, now broke him:
"It doesn't count… it's only service… I'm still pure for Arthur."
Arthur turned from the barn, bile rising in his throat. The sound followed him — the heavy breaths of the men, the guttural chorus, the small broken laughter of the girl who swore she loved him.
And in that moment, his gift awoke.
The power that would bind corruption to his will, the power that would twist fate itself, whispered inside him.
Arthur swore then: if she would give herself to beasts disguised as men, then let beasts be her truth.