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For better or worse.
Turning and leaving without another word, Mordred steeled himself against the task that lay before him. He would have to hunt the demon himself.
And if any other elementals stood in his way?
So be it.
Let them dig their own graves.
* * *
It was a solid day of riding before Lancelot found a town large enough to perhaps know something of what had happened. And large enough that not every single peasant hid from him. For no matter how he called after them to say that he was no longer a servant of the prince, it seemed nobody believed him.
Not that Lancelot much blamed them for their fear.
Seeking out an inn, he pushed open the door to the tavern to see what information he could find. Barmen were usually the best gossips, even if they had to be paid for their trouble. That was no trouble for him.
There were some benefits to being an elemental of silver.
Letting his helm melt back into him, he walked up to the bar. The man behind it was big, gruff, older, and had a decent number of scars that told Lancelot quite quickly that the big man had been in his share of brawls. Likely inside his own establishment.
“I mean no trouble.” Summoning several silver coins, Lancelot placed them down onto the wood surface. “Only information and a pint.”
“That’ll buy you the information.” The barman sniffed dismissively. “What’s it to you to double that for a pint, since you can just make more?”
“If I were to flood the town with silver, it would hardly have value anymore, now would it?” Still, Lancelot summoned more of the coins and put them down next to the others. “There. For the pint.”
The man did not hesitate to slide the currency off the surface and pocket it. He poured Lancelot a pint, as requested, before standing in front of him, eyeing the knight warily. “What do you want?”
“I found myself in the Crystal at the hands of the Prince in Iron. And now, I find myself strangely freed and the world’s magic restored. I want to know what year it is and who paid the price for our freedom.” He chugged half the pint before letting out a grunt. It was warm and terrible. But it was beer. And that was all that mattered at the moment.
Though he would not be buying a second.
“I expect not much time has passed at all. His knights”—the gruff man scoffed—“hisotherknights have all been called back to his keep. Likely preparing for war.”
That was a safe bet. Lancelot nodded. “And the other elementals?”
“Haven’t seen them. I’m sure they’re all lying low, licking their wounds. Nobody’s come in here, at any rate. Not until you.” The man narrowed his eyes. “What’d you do to wind up in the Crystal?”
“Tried to betray him. Well, I couldn’t. Not on account of the spell that kept me enslaved to him.” Lancelot snorted. “So I tried to convince his new love to do it for me.”
The barman raised a thick brown eyebrow in disbelief. “Love? The prince?”
“A human girl from Earth, turned into a fire elemental by some unknown magic.” Lancelot shrugged. “Matters not. I suspect she’s dead now. She must be the one who shattered the Crystal. Do you know if she lives?”
“Haven’t heard anything about her. I suspect the same as you—that she’s a goner. May she rest in peace.” The barman shook his head. “Messy lot, you bastards. Always causing more mayhem than you’re worth. Do me a favor and get out before trouble follows you here.”
“You will not have an argument from me, friend.” Lancelot downed the rest of his beer and placed the empty mug back down on the wood surface with a quietthunk.“I find myself with a new mission, regardless.” Smirking, he pushed up from the stool and headed to the door. “I have a prince to kill and a young lady to avenge.”
Lancelot heard the barman mutter something along the lines offucking elementals, but Lancelot neither cared enough to retort nor was he in a bad enough of a mood to want to pick a fight over it.
In fact, he was in quite a good mood, all things considered. Summoning his silver steed again, he climbed atop the elegant creature, all made of smooth lines and careful craftsmanship—not like the twisted, hideous amalgams that Mordred created—and rode for the direction of the keep.
It would take him some time to arrive there, as he suspected he was on the far side of the island from the Prince in Iron’s stronghold.
That would serve him nicely, however—it took time to build an army.
Time and charisma.
