A child sat on a miniature throne. His eyes were a dark brown. The seemingly blank orbs looked strange on the boy. His poker face expression worsened the affect. The boy had long blonde hair that fell along his back. The boy rose from his chair and walked over to Merlin..

“My Wilhelym, you have grown! Do you know where your mother is?” Merlin asked. The little boy shook his head and went back to his throne, and sunk into the chair, smirking. Merlin laughed.

“Now you know I-” Merlin started. He walked over to the chair and tickled the boy, making him laugh uncontrollably. The boy squealed and screamed with utter defeat.
“Ha ohakay, S-stop!” Wilhelym tried to yell.
Merlin stopped and asked, “Now where is your mother?”
“In the courtyard singing” the boy answered in a sing song voice. The elderly mage walked away from the young prince and walked to the courtyard. As he walked closer her found the boy was right. Merlin heard Gwen singing. It was summertime, and the flowers in bloom gave the area a pretty glow.
“The flowing breeze moves through the trees, the leaves rustling. A locket, my darling held in her hand softly humming a tune. Through the forest she ran until the moonlight was exposed” Gwen softly sang. Merlinclapped and smiled. Gwen’s hair long, the awkwardness from the beginning of the relationship with Arthur was completely gone.

“A lullaby from your mother perhaps?”

“Yes”.

“A melancholy lullaby… is something troubling you?” the mage asked.
She nodded and answered, “It’s… Wilhelym. He is acting strange, like he is enchanted”.

“What are these strange occurrences?”

“Every time my son is around Arthur he either glaring at him or he sneers, it looks so wrong on a child. The boy is getting angry, hateful and it scares me” she said, “do you think Morgana has something to do with it?”
“Possibly, but she hasn’t been seen for seven years”.

“I know… but it just seems odd”.

“I shall go check on him if the bring peace to your thoughts” Merlin said. Gwen nodded and Merlin moved as fast as his old legs would allow him, back to the throne room. He heard voices so the mage hid behind a large marble pillar. The boy was looking all starry eyed at a young girl with raven hair.

“Hello Morgana. It’s nice to see you,” he said. He beamed at her.

“Oh Willie, did you do it?” she asked. Her voice was sickly sweet, it reminded Merlin of someone, but he couldn’t fathom who it could be.

“Of course… I would do anything for you, Morgana,” he said. The girl smirked

and laughed. It sounded more like a wicked lady’s cackle more than a girlish giggle. The

hit him, Oh no. Morgana. It was too late King Arthur was dead, betrayed by his own

son.