Fractured Fairy Tales (31 page)

After resting for a few moments, Arthur sat upright in his bed. His biggest wonder was why did he remain in the castle of Merlin the wizard. Up until that point, he had passed all of Merlin’s tests, so why was he still there? Arthur thought back on his life thinking that life in itself was the largest, incomplete test. He had not asked for his current situation. If he could go back and question teenage Arthur—pre-royalty Arthur—about his future life and what would have become of him; he probably would have said married with a small plot of land for farming. It was just that simple. A life of simplicity, a wife, and children. Arthur sighed. Yes, there would be children, he hoped, however at the current moment that word “child” was something more than offspring. It meant a new heir. A future king. A life not of his choosing.
It almost seems unfair,
Arthur thought.

“Nothing in life is truly fair. Life, itself, is a cruel thing to live through.”

Not to Arthur’s surprise, Merlin appeared in his chamber.

“Why am I still here?” Arthur mustered up the balls to ask of Merlin.

“Like I say, life is a cruel cunt of a bitch to muscle through. Sickness, wars, famine, love, loss, sex, and,” Merlin drawled on the word and then looked to Arthur, “its complications are all far too much for one man to handle. But we live. And handle all that is broached.”

Merlin paused his pace then turned on a dime at the foot of Arthur’s bed. His glare was questioning just as Arthur was seeking an answer from Merlin. “Why
are
you here, Runt?”

“That’s what I asked of you,” Arthur stated incredulous.

“Only I ask the questions. When I find my answers so shall you. So, why are you here?”

“I required your help—”

“For?” Merlin interrupted.

“Well with my situation,” Arthur fired back. His annoyance was starting to peak.

“And,” Merlin drawled, “what
situation
is that?”

When Merlin started to hiss his words, Arthur knew that he was being quizzed and if he knew better and valued his existence, the answer better be correct. The odd thing about it all was the fact that in the end, he would actually be answering his own original question of why he remained in Merlin’s realm.

“My cock won’t harden so I can’t produce an heir.” Arthur was becoming nervous because he knew that answer was not going to be the end of the discussion.
Why, oh why, did I wake early with these ponderings?

“So you need an heir? I can conjure you an heir then all would be solved. The kingdom will live on!” Merlin’s voice boomed through the room and probably the entire castle as if he was making a major declaration.

“No…it’s not that simple…master.” Arthur was still getting used to the title.

“Why is it not? I am a powerful wizard, actually the strongest in the world. I can make anything happen.”

“I can’t have you zap a baby into my arms—”

“Can’t…won’t…don’t?” Merlin chimed.

“I don’t want you to…I mean…I want to do it on my own. The natural way. Plus the end result won’t fix the initial issue.”

“And why can’t you?”

“Again, my cock won’t harden, therefore, I cannot produce an heir.”

Merlin began to pace again while rubbing at his chin in presumed deep thought. With the fanning of his fingers, a wand about the length of a sword appeared. Merlin was not much for the stereotypical garbs and tools of his trade—wizardry—however, he did, on rare occasions, utilize a wand mostly for fine-tuned direction of his magic.

He faced Arthur again and with a quick swirl of the wand Arthur’s bedding
and
bed clothes had vanished.

Arthur hunched up toward the wall of the bed. His legs were gaped and he did not know whether to cover himself or just let it all be. Before he could determine the best course, Merlin reached forward and tapped he wand on Arthur’s shaft. A tingling feeling soared through his vessels like pin pricks of hot lava. The surge started faintly from his head then worked its way over his chest right to his loins. Hot delicious heat radiated from within, itching its way up to the tip of penile flesh. Then like the rising of a flag, his staff, his scepter,
Excalibur
turned to stone.

“My cock…my cock…my fucking, bloody dick is hard as bloody stone! Woo hoo!” Arthur was bouncing on his bed in ecstatic glee. “I’m cured…I’m cured!” Stiff as cured sausage, Arthur was hard and standing tall. Fixed. Uninjured and ready to work. It was the greatest celebration of his life. Camelot was nothing. Winning battles…nothing. But producing the most beautiful hard-on of his existence was the greatest accomplishment ever.

Arthur was so distracted with thoughts of finally leaving the horrendously torturous realm of Merlin because he no longer had a problem to solve that he did not notice Merlin’s sinister grumble that turned into a diabolical laugh.

*Snap*

Gone. It was gone. Soft. Limp. Void of life. His hardness that was ready to impale a harem of viable ladies in waiting had vanished.

“Now, back to our original conversation. Life is
hard.
Sometimes we don’t know our true failures outside of the glow of success.”

“My cock is gone,” Arthur murmur toward his lap. It was mournful to see it go. Victory was snatched away in a quick breath. Yes, failure. He had failed not only himself, but his people. Britain.

“Don’t be doltish, Runt.” Merlin began to glide around the room again. Just as his erection, the wand had vanished, and Merlin was about to deliver the meaning in the lesson. There was always some type of small punishment that he handed down in order for Arthur to grasp the moral. This time, his erection and overall sanity had suffered.

“I will assure you that you have all of your working parts still attached.” Merlin gave Arthur a quick once over with his cold glare. “What you saw was pure magic. You…did nothing to produce what you
thought
was the cure to your ailment.”

Merlin moved about the room again. Arthur found himself at a loss for words. His world had been shattered. Hell, he felt as if he was back, many years in the ghastly past. Only days away from begging in the streets he was. A peasant. A pauper. There were no dreams of grandeur. Just life. Hard, gruesome, wretched
life
.

“What we have here, Runt, is a quandary with no foreseeable resolution without one vital key.” Merlin faced Arthur. “You.”

“Me?”

“You, Runt, are blinded by your success. An ill-gotten triumph that, let’s face it, any man could have achieved. But that is all a moot point. What I’m trying to illustrate here is…just as a celebration received with a mere erection that was
ill-gotten
, you forgot the original issue of…
why
.
Why
are you here?
What
is your problem?
How
did it occur?” Merlin quirked an eyebrow at Arthur.
Oh, shit, time to answer.

“I can’t—”

“Ah, ah, ah…why, what, and most importantly, how?”

Arthur dropped his head. Being with Merlin, learning from his unorthodox methods, were draining at best. “I am required to perform again. I’m always required to do something or another for the people. Supposed to be
my
people as I am
their
king. But the tables are always turned.
They are
the true king and ruler where
I am
the servant, the populace,
the people
.”

Merlin sucked at his teeth then a grin spread across his face. In the darkness of a false night, Arthur focused on Merlin’s lips and bright teeth while the rest of Merlin’s body faded into the shroud. Arthur had succeeded in answering not only Merlin’s question but his own. Even though he had passed all the preliminary tests and even shown that he did, in fact, possess the ability to harden, he remained in Merlin’s realm because the problematic issue had yet to be solved. Why? Because up until that point, Arthur did not know the true complication. Why, what, how. It was the pressure. The stress and strain of trying to please a society that he did not feel was his own. His truth. His legacy, whatever that was, was not yet fulfilled because his life was on a false path. Just as younger, non-noble Arthur, he had yet to actually own his station in life. He was a false king. A mirage of a ruler. It was time for that to change. And only in that alteration would he be able to repair whatever was broken and truly succeed.

“Grand, Runt. You have figured out the predicament so now we shall work on the solution.”

*Snap*

“Now for a bit of good, old-fashioned merriment.”

Contributors

Zoe Adams:
Zoe Adams is a graduate of Professional Writing, at The Grimsby Institute, through the University of Hull. She has always had an interest of horror, science-fiction, and other media. She has been writing professionally since 200, whereupon she first started her course, and has continued to push for a career since. Her novella,
Best Served Chilled,
was accepted by Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing in January 2013.

Cecilia Clark:
Cecilia Clark is a multi genre writer with short stories in thirty anthologies, some published, some pending and flash fiction in ezines, She sharpens her pen on 25 word or less competitions and wins every one she enters gaining prizes from pianos to movie tickets. Cecilia also has art in the published works of other writers. Her first love is fairy tales closely followed by SF, steam punk and fantasy though her tastes are eclectic and unlimited. She has dabbled in writing horror and crime fiction and is currently working on several projects involving both. She can be found at the usual e-hangouts.

K.C. Finn-
K. C. Finn was born and raised in Cardiff, South Wales, where her love for storytelling grew at a precociously young age. After developing the medical condition M.E. / C.F.S., Kim turned to writing to escape the pressures of disabled living, only to become hooked on the incredible world of publishing.

Nicole Daffurn:
Nicole’s love for the written word has seen her write many short stories and poems and then eventually moving on to tackle the bigger task of novel writing late in 2011. She has also completed her course in editing and is currently studying Journalism and looks forward to exploring the world of news media.

Leah D.W.:
Leah D.W. lives in South Africa with her family and two beloved dogs. She was first published at the age of 21 and has several short stories in anthologies, two poems and loves to write paranormal romance novels. A proud bookworm and chocoholic, Leah is also pursuing a career in editing and loves to study Greek Mythology. When she isn’t writing like a mad woman high on coffee, she spends time with her friends usually drifting through bookstores and watching movies.

Jade Heart:
Jade Heart loves stormy nights, loud music, and stories about lust and desire, which is why she writes adult and erotic romance.

Jeannette Joyal:
Jeannette Joyal lives in North Carolina with her husband for the last 14 years. A proud mother of four daughters, one son and has also been blessed with six beautiful granddaughters who are the light of her life. She works for Hot Ink Press as Head of Strategic Marketing. She has recently tried her hand at writing and has completed a couple of poems. Both have now been published with Crushing Hearts. This has given her the encouragement to write some short stories.

Samantha Ketteman:
Samantha Ketteman has resided in southern Illinois for 7 years, (though still claims to be an Alabama girl), with her husband and three crazy demon children. She started reading novels at a very young age and decided to write for herself. She is a caffeine addict, insomniac, and generally scatterbrained most of the time. When she’s not writing, she’s getting lost in her imagination. Novels are an escape from the harsh reality of a cantankerous teenage boy and two drama queen girls.

Victoria Kinnaird:
Victoria Kinnaird is 27 years old and lives in Glasgow, Scotland. She graduated from the University of Strathclyde in 2009 with a Bachelor of the Arts degree in Journalism, Creative Writing and English Lit. Victoria has been writing since she was 15 years old. She loves rock music, and 11 of her tattoos are related to bands that she loves!

Sinead MacDughlas:
Sinead MacDughlas will tell you she breathes music and bleeds words. Those who know her well, will tell you that those words are likely highly caffeinated. Born and raised in Ontario, Sin is a proud Canadian whose plots often take place in her home province. She now lives in a small town, north of Toronto, with her hard-working husband, two children, and a black, medium-haired cat who thinks she is his pet. Sinead loves to receive feedback from her readers, and encourages them to seek her out on any of her social profiles.

Stephen T. De Marino:
Stephen T. De Marino was raised by a hippie and an attack pilot, which may explain his chaotic nature. A football coach for 25 years, he now exploring his softer side. Currently living in the wilds of Northern California (Yes, the REAL Northern California, not SF) he is working on his first full length novel which he promised his darling wife that he would one day finish. (There have been many, many false starts.) He has been published in 13 Tales of the Paranormal, Gridiron Strategies, American Football Monthly, and several poetry e-zines under the pen name Kakavian.

Lexi Ostrow:
Lexi has been a writer ever since the second grade in some form or another. Getting her degree in creative writing and her master’s in journalism she couldn’t wait to get a chance to put her fantasies down on paper. Her debut novel, Torn Between Two Worlds is something that was simmering in her mind since middle school and she’s so grateful to put it out into the literary world. From paranormal romance to thriller there isn’t a genre she doesn’t love to spend her time reading or writing.

Jennifer Raygoza:
Jennifer Raygoza lives in Corona, California with her husband and children. She developed a love for writing poetry at the young age of twelve. She did not want to become a writer when she was young. She had dreams of becoming a Marriage Counselor and majored in Psychology when she was older. Although that dream did not work out she still councils relationship advice to friends and family. In 2013 she published her first book called The Guardians. Originally it was a story written for fun, and out of curiosity was self published.

Lillian MacKenzie Rhine:
Lillian MacKenzie Rhine (“Lilly Mac”) writes in several genres ranging from paranormal to historical. She believes that the possibilities of creation should not be limited to just one category, but one should allow the story and characters to dictate where the journey leads. Being a beta reader for several years has allowed her to write her material with the reader in mind which gives her books a more realistic and relatable approach.

Pyxi Rose:
Pyxi Rose is a single mom, writer, lover of all things literary. She lives in the PA Mountains, but her heart and soul will always be in North Carolina. She has a wonderfully weird little boy named Wander Stone that keeps her on her toes. She has a few series out like The Taghairm Chronicles, a darker paranormal series about Scottish Oracles and a NA fantasy trilogy called Saving Babylon which is a little more adult and it focuses on angels/demons.

Andrea L. Staum:
Andrea L. Staum is author of the Dragonchild Lore series and The Attic’s Secret Novella. She is also a contributor to a wide variety of anthologies in numerous genres. She is a trained motorcycle mechanic, an amateur house renovator, and a record keeper for the characters in her mind. She resides in South Central Wisconsin with her husband and three cats.

Catherine Stovall:
Catherine Stovall is the author of many fiction works in the horror, steampunk, paranormal, fantasy, dark fantasy, and YA genres. She is also the editor and a contributor to several anthologies produced by Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing, Vamptasy Publishing, and Steamworks Ink.

Catherine is a fearless creature who surrounds herself with the joys of life both in and out of her fictional worlds. She lives in Southeast Missouri with her husband, three children, and pets. When not writing, she spends her time riding motorcycles, wearing elaborate hats, and genuinely enjoying the oddities in life.

N.C. Thomas:
Born and bred in Glasgow, Scotland N C’s two passions are reading and writing. She has a Master of the Arts Degree in Classics which makes her qualified to go to the cinema to see movies related to her degree and say things like “No, that is not what happened at all!” and, with a deep sigh, “Wow my degree really is cool…” Books are her passion and she vows there is not a genre.