The Immortal Gazette: The Tale of Excalibur
The night air was filled with the smell of enchanted pine logs crackling in the fire. Around the hearth, the immortals sat, waiting for the next tale to unfold. Alice, now leaning back with her arms crossed and her gaze mysteriously fixed on Loki, who seemed oddly content tonight, glanced at Rumplestiltskin, clearly waiting for the next legendary story to drop.
"Alright, Rumple," Alice said, breaking the silence. "It's time for a classic. The tale of Excalibur. The sword of legends, the weapon that could cut through anything—especially the ego of any would-be king. Tell us all about it."
Loki, always intrigued by grandiose tales of heroism and magic, raised an eyebrow. "Ah, Excalibur. What is it with swords and chosen ones? Why not a nice dagger or a whip? Much more practical, if you ask me."
Rumplestiltskin, amused by Loki’s cynicism, took a moment before beginning, his voice rich with mystery and grandeur.
"Ah, Excalibur," he began, leaning forward slightly as he laced his fingers together. "The sword of King Arthur. A symbol of power, destiny, and, well, a lot of very dramatic moments. But let’s start at the beginning. We have to go all the way back to the days of the Kingdom of Camelot."
Alice rolled her eyes playfully. "Of course, it all starts with a kingdom... every good hero’s tale does."
Rumplestiltskin grinned at Alice's mockery but continued. "Camelot was a land blessed by magic, ruled by the noble King Uther Pendragon. But Uther's reign was fraught with treachery, deception, and even a bit of good old-fashioned romance."
Loki snorted. "Ah, yes, the classic power struggle, all wrapped up in royal drama. Tell me more."
Rumplestiltskin raised an eyebrow, clearly not bothered by Loki’s sarcasm. "Uther’s downfall began when he fell in love with Igraine, the wife of another powerful lord. Naturally, that did not go over well. But in a twist of fate, with the help of the wizard Merlin, Uther used magic to disguise himself as Igraine’s husband and, well, you can guess the rest."
"Romance at its finest," Alice said with a smirk, clearly amused. "But where does Excalibur come into this?"
"Patience, Alice," Rumplestiltskin said with a chuckle. "It’s coming. After Uther’s questionable encounter with Igraine, she became pregnant with Arthur, the future king. However, Uther’s death came soon after, and the throne of Camelot was left unclaimed. That’s where Excalibur enters the story."
Loki raised an eyebrow. "I’m assuming Excalibur is no ordinary sword. It’s a magic sword, right?"
"You’d be right," Rumplestiltskin said. "You see, Merlin, ever the clever wizard, decided that whoever could pull the sword from the stone would be the rightful king of Camelot. The stone, enchanted by Merlin’s magic, was like a divine test. And who should come along to claim the sword but Arthur, a mere squire at the time, unaware of his royal bloodline."
Alice made a mock gasp. "Wait, so this random guy just happens to pull out the legendary sword? Doesn’t sound like it took much skill to me."
"That’s the thing, Alice," Rumplestiltskin said with a knowing smile. "It wasn’t about skill—it was about destiny. Arthur was the one chosen by fate, and when he grasped Excalibur, he became the true king of Camelot, even though he didn’t know it yet."
Loki leaned back, crossing his arms. "Ah, fate. That old reliable force. How very convenient."
Rumplestiltskin’s smile didn’t falter. "Arthur was crowned, and with Excalibur in hand, he began his reign. But Excalibur wasn’t just a sword; it was symbolic of his right to rule, a representation of his leadership, and, in many ways, his destiny."
"Of course, destiny would be a much more convenient explanation than actual work," Alice quipped.
"Indeed," Rumplestiltskin replied. "But Excalibur’s true magic wasn’t just in its ability to cut through the toughest of armor or defend the realm. It was imbued with ancient, protective magic—a gift from the Lady of the Lake. The sword was as much a part of Arthur’s rule as the throne itself."
Loki frowned thoughtfully. "A sword with a mind of its own... Intriguing. But what happened to it?"
Rumplestiltskin’s expression turned more somber. "Arthur’s reign, though legendary, was not without its challenges. As the years went on, his knights—especially Sir Lancelot—became embroiled in their own affairs, distracting Arthur from his duties. And despite his magical sword and his noble causes, Arthur’s story was one of betrayal, heartbreak, and loss. The most infamous of these betrayals came from his own wife, Guinevere, and his closest friend, Lancelot."
Loki snickered. "Now we’re getting to the good stuff—betrayal, love triangles, and epic wars."
"Indeed," Rumplestiltskin said. "As Camelot began to crumble under the weight of its own internal strife, Arthur was forced to confront his own mortality and the betrayal of his most trusted allies. As the legend goes, Excalibur was eventually returned to the Lady of the Lake by Arthur, who, after a long and bitter war, was gravely wounded. He asked Sir Bedivere to cast Excalibur into the waters of the lake, where it would be taken back by the Lady herself."
Alice raised an eyebrow. "So the sword just... disappears into the lake? That’s how it ends?"
"That’s the legend," Rumplestiltskin said with a shrug. "The sword returned to the magical realm it came from, and Arthur’s fate was sealed. But his legacy—his story—lived on, as did the myth of Excalibur."
"Fate’s cruel, isn’t it?" Loki muttered. "You get this magical sword, but it’s destined to be lost. And the whole thing falls apart."
"Ah, but it wasn’t just about the sword," Rumplestiltskin added. "It was about what Excalibur represented: leadership, honor, and the idea that true power isn’t in the weapon itself, but in how it’s wielded."
Alice sighed dramatically. "Well, I don’t know about you two, but I think I’ll stick to daggers. They don’t come with unnecessary baggage like destiny."
Loki smirked at Alice. "You’re just jealous that you can’t pull a sword from a stone. Don’t pretend you don’t want that kind of power."
Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "Perhaps it’s not the sword that calls to you, Alice, but rather the chaos it could create."
"Touché," Alice said, leaning back with a wink.
With that, the fire flickered brightly, casting dancing shadows across the room, and the immortals were left contemplating the legacy of Excalibur—a tale of magic, destiny, betrayal, and the fragile nature of power itself.
🖋️✨📜🖤
