Cursed 2

FORTY SIX

Several days passed since the reunion of the entire group and they decided to stop near a lake for the night. Pym, tired, threw herself on a blanket and fell asleep as soon as she closed her eyes as Merlin's guts began to growl like a fearsome mountain bear.

"I'm starving! We'd better start looking for food if you don't want me to faint" the wizard warned the others.

"I'll go get something" said the Weeping Monk, starting off into the forest.

"I go with you!" Squirrel exclaimed following him.

Morgana went to the edge of the lake to refresh her face and Merlin, dissatisfied and distrustful of leaving his food in their hands, looked at the others.

"I should join these lest they start playing with bows and swords again and we won't eat until tomorrow" concluded the wizard entering the forest while Nimue and Arthur laughed and were left alone.

The atmosphere was strange, it had been a long time since old lovers spent time alone and many things had happened.

"We must prepare, the Church is more and more incessant" Nimue began.

"You're right, they follow all our steps and we can not always emerge victorious from them" added Arthur.

The silence reigned giving way to the voices within them that showed the time they had spent apart and that the feelings towards the other person had been slowly extinguished. Only when they met again did they confirm that they no longer felt the same for each other.

"I see you differently. Is it because of the monk?" Arthur blurted out softly as she avoided responding, "The truth is that it is difficult to understand... but lately I do not find anything that is easy."

"I'm not the only one who has changed, right?" the young woman answered offering him a small smile while he touched his wrist where he had the bracelet that the Viking gave him.

Those two people who once walked hand in hand knew that their story created a full stop so they could continue to write it in another way.
There were no hurts, tears or resentment only hearts guided by unknown paths.

"What was our thing, Nimue?"

Before answering, the young woman raised her head calmly towards the migration of birds that flew over the sky.

"It was something beautiful, I'm sure of that."

Arthur nodded and grabbed her hand and together they watched for a few seconds the journey of those birds heading to their new destination.

On the other hand, Morgana, kneeling in front of the lake shore, looked at her reflection in the water while she listened absorbed to that voice that whispered in her thoughts.

"Take the sword!" It's ours!" she heard in her head over and over as she thought she was going to go crazy, when her brother's voice woke her up.

"Here you are!" said the young man, "What do you do?"

"Can't I freshen up, Arthur?!" she answered uncomfortably splashing water on her face.

"Of course" he clarified, standing next to her and continued, "Morgana, I wanted to apologize, I should have supported you. At first I did not know what to say, my little sister has become the new widow and I didn't understand it. Now I know we've all taken complicated paths and it may not have been the reaction you expected from me when you confessed to me who you had become."

"The widow..." she whispered without taking her eyes off her reflection, "I'm no longer sure who I am, Arthur."

"I do know who you are, you are my sister, and although now you dress so depressing all in black, you always will be" he said laughing, searching for her non-existent laugh, "Morgana, are you okay?"

"Tell him yes."

"Yes" she replied heeding the voice.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Thanks for those apologies brother, I'm fine."

A few meters from them, excited and noisy voices called them to eat. Before they went to their friends, Morgana hugged her brother stiffly and coldly, who couldn't help but feel that something was wrong.