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I remember holding him in my arms as he died on the shores of Avalon. And I waited. Then I found him reborn when the world needed a legendary hero once more – only to watch his life be cut short again. And again. And again. All the while I lived and usually found him each time when he was almost twenty years old. I would guide him as best I could. But after a while it gets tiresome to see it happen and it always hurt to watch him die. And to repeat the lessons over and over and over. The prat was never very good at listening.
Each time his loving wife would end up by his side and become a childless widow. The last was by my own hands. I smile to myself remembering that. I'd had enough, and reached a breaking point. In this so-called 'circle' and in my mind.
Over a thousand years of this crap and I was done with it! I made myself a compass with my magic and set out across the ocean. I decided to become a pirate! No more going back to Albion, or the British Empire as it was now called. Far away, yes. Where there was no chance of him or anyone else from that time coming to haunt me. And this far off place had plenty of rum.
Then after a brief run in with the East India Trading company our ship went down and I found myself standing in front of Davy Jones. My way with words, my immortal being, something caught his attention. I managed to bargain with him and acquire a ship of my own. I poured nearly all my magic into it making it black as my soul felt for being cheated time and again- and it cost me, but I didn't care. What little I had of the man, the legend of Merlin - I drowned in the rum.
Then I lost my ship. My one time friends had been reborn once more and we sailed for treasure, but even some of their souls were changed after so long. Barbosa was once a great knight named Leon and when we found the cursed treasure it ate at his heart. I woke up to find myself stranded. I once loved the man as a brother, now though I had one ball in a sea soaked pistol I was going to kill him with… after I found some more rum.
Gwaine always seemed to find his way to my side, though it took me longer to recognize him this time, this incarnation he was Joshamee Gibbs. Together we shared in the wenches and rum.
My compass began pointing again, pulling me towards what I had hoped to be my ship. Through a trick of the tides and a bit of magic I stepped onto the dock on the island of Jamaica, and into Port Royal where I once again found Arthur reborn. This time he was the blacksmith's apprentice and Gwen the sweet governor's daughter, being courted by Lancelot's reincarnation, ever searching for his honor. It made me sick to think I'd run so far and still could not escape them. Born in Albion, the world was becoming increasingly smaller and they managed to find their way to the Caribbean. Curse him. Curse her. Curse him, too. Curse the empty bottle.
But what's one more adventure for old times' sake, I'll help him- Arthur, Will, whatever his god forsaken name was now to get his girl, I'll get my ship. And then I'll be done with it. He won't know me this time. I'm too far gone from the man I was. The druid seer's words come back to haunt me about not being able to alter the circle of his fate. Well, we'll see about that.
Bloody hell… why is the rum gone?