So, we're back again with a long wait and a short chapter! As I just said, it is quite a short one, but hopefully you enjoy reading!

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Ok then, here we go...

Azric had spent years, years, in service of Uther. The number of accused traitors he'd dutifully thrown in the dungeons, the number of suspected sorcerers he'd blindly burned at the stake, all in the name of the so-called love of Camelot that bound all knights together.

All knights, he thought bitterly, like the knights whose fingers dug like the claws of a hunting-trap into his arms. Yes, he could see how bound together they all were, like one big, happy, traitorous family, in fact. No matter how loyally he had served his king and his kingdom, no matter how many times he pushed aside his own feelings to 'protect' said kingdom, his brothers-in-arms could always turn on him in a split second. And, to be honest, that hurt more than Azric could ever have expected.

It was cold down here, in the natural caves beneath the castle. He had, of course, been down here before, but then he had always had the comfort of another knight at his side and a blazing fire to warm his hands at. Now, he reflected, it was those same knights who radiated the chill gnawing at him, biting at him until he could no longer feel his fingers. It was strange; things he had seen countless times before now seemed to jump out at him from the corners of his eyes, beautiful and magical and each more glorious than the last. No, not magical. Never magical. His world was spinning uncontrollably and magic was the thing that had set it off. Maybe Uther was right after all...

He'd get a trial, of course, for what it was worth, and that was pretty much nothing. Once Uther had made his mind up Azric doubted that anything could dissuade him. Any reasonable argument would be countered with that of magic. The king wouldn't care that it made no logical sense that Azric would attempt to kill him in front of all those people, after all, it was debatable whether Uther Pendragon could boast of any form of sanity at all. He had decided upon a verdict before the trial had even begun.

There was little hope to be found in a trial when the judge and jury were the one man who hated him most in the world.

And Azric found himself thinking, as the men who had once been his brothers shoved him into the cell, that perhaps it would have been no bad thing if his blade had hit its intended target - the king's heart.

———

Amber Godwin had been unconscious for a long time. The physician told her that she had woken a few times, to eat and drink, but she had always fallen asleep soon after and she remembered none of it. She wondered if this time was different, if she was finally recovering from whatever it was that had happened all that time ago. She watched, bleary-eyed, as he bustled around his rooms, whistling a tune she recognised. Where did she recognise it from? She couldn't remember, she didn't know. Something in her past, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She had been upset about it, she knew, she had shouted at her servant. What was his name again? She frowned, fear beginning to writhe and knot in the pit of her stomach. Why can't I remember?

Frustrated with the world in general, Amber swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, but the room swung around her and she buried her head in her hands, groaning. The old man who was whistling looked at her in alarm. He looked familiar, too.

"My Lady! You must not try to get up just yet, you are obviously very weak and-" he was interrupted as she toppled sideways into him, causing him to stumble slightly under the unexpected impact. Luckily, the old man was stronger than he looked and somehow managed to redirect her limp form onto the bed with a smile and a raised eyebrow she was sure she had seen before. "Careful now, Lady Amber." He chuckled. "A few more days rest and you'll be right as rain."

"Right, thank you, erm..." She managed an awkward smile despite the black spots that seemed to be teasing her as they danced before her eyes. "...sorry, who are you?"

His brow furrowed in confusion and she could see the alarm in his eyes as soon as she asked. "I-I-I'm the court physician, my Lady, you know me."

"Right, right, and, erm... what was your name again?"

"Gaius, my lady. Don't you remember?"

Amber didn't, but she managed a weak laugh anyway. "Yes, yes, of course. Gaius, that's it. I don't know what came over me." Hopefully her smile didn't look too much like the grimace she was fighting.

"Well, you've been very ill, my lady, it's perfectly understandable." He didn't look as though it was. "You get some sleep, you'll be fine." Gaius nodded, and she got the distinct impression it was just as much to convince him as it was to her. The spots before her eyes danced, span, expanded until the physician's face was dim and out of focus.

His words became quieter and he faded, until the world became dark and consciousness left her once more.

———

Sir Lucan cursed for what felt like the millionth time as his boot caught on a root and he stumbled, grazing his hands on the ancient bark of the tree he had managed to catch himself on. Almost immediately, however, he had to fight the urge to swear again as his original words echoed eerily through the silent woods. Pressing in close around him, the ancient trees stood watched over the forest, grey bark of their armour cracking and peeling from years of service, listening. They were always listening to him, Lucan thought, watching coldly as he stumbled between their great forms with nothing but the darkness to guide him. Just... listening. But this time, they were not alone in their surveillance.

There was someone else here with him, he was sure of it. Someone new. He could feel it in the way the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end whenever he moved, in the deep, unnatural silence that had settled over the wood. It was quiet even for this time of night, and that was saying something. His mind drifted uneasily back to when he was younger, and his brother Leon had told him tales of the dangers lurking in the shadows of the forest. Thieves, bandits, outlaws, sorcerers.

Ghosts.

A flicker of movement to his left, and Lucan jumped, spinning around, brown eyes searching the forest desperately. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, and his shaky breath clouded before him like a shadow of the past. Oh, Amelia. How he hated himself then, for what he had done. She was a good person, a kind honest person and he had killed her. Not directly, but it was him who, in his desperation for admiration and glory, had set her on that pyre. It was as good as if he had lit the match himself.

The young knight shivered. It was cold here, colder than a summer night aught to be. He glanced around the forest one last time, his panicking mind on hyper alert for danger. There's no such thing as ghosts. There isn't. There couldn't be. Nevertheless, whether his newly acquired second shadow was dead or alive, he couldn't risk letting them see where he was going. Unable to see anyone, Lucan pulled his cloak closer around him, deepening the shadow hiding his face as he stole back the way he had come, towards Camelot and safety.

There'll be another chance.

Chapter 9 complete :) . Sorry for the months of waiting followed by an incredibly short chapter (1429 words), but I hope you liked it! MajesticAbster and ghostofwolves, I'm sorry this was like the first proper appearance of your characters, I'm trying to include the characters we haven't much of yet a bit more! We'll see how that goes.

Until next time!