Chapter Text
“And you say this is bound to destroy Camelot, ma’am?”
“Of course,” the woman hissed. She swept her long, unkempt, white hair over her shoulder as she leaned down farther. Her eyes were focused intently on a vat of some kind, bubbles larger than her wrinkled hands popping noisily.
A short man stood stiffly behind her, mouth ajar, trying his utmost to restrain the dozens of pressing questions attempting to escape his mouth. He feared being reprimanded by the terrifying woman. It wasn't as though he hadn't been yelled at by a woman before--that was more common than he would like to admit. He was, however, well aware of the unfortunate circumstances that might dawn upon him if he happened to agitate this particular woman. She could probably end his life with a snap of her worn fingers if she so wished--he was physically weak in the first place, and also bore no traces of magical ability. He came to her in desperation, seeking the end of Camelot and its people.
He watched the old sorceress heave the large pot up in her arms with ease. She transported it to the floor in the center of a ring of symbols. The man wasn’t quite sure if she had the markings on the floor at all times or if this was a one time occasion, but he didn’t ask. He feared for his life: he wouldn’t be able to help himself for very long.
She began walking in a dramatic manner around the boiling concoction, chanting unfamiliar words of the Old Religion. He got a chill from the odd performance. Seeing the effects of a magical being’s spells can sometimes be terrifying, but watching the process of creating potions was almost even more unnerving. He couldn’t imagine the years of training it took to get to this point.
The woman seemed to hiss each of her words, the sentences drawing slowly from her mouth. The liquid’s bubbling slowed and was changing colors: green to blue, blue to purple, purple to red. Then, to his surprise, the churning liquid became clear and the woman fell silent.
There was a tension in the silence, though he didn’t quite know what it was. It felt like he’d be smothered in the heavy quiet. He longed to break it.
“S-so, how exactly does this work?”
She ignored him for a few minutes, using an oddly shaped spoon to scoop the transparent potion into a small bottle.
The old hag swung around then, catching the man off guard. Her eyes were crazed, and he swore he saw her dark eyes flash yellow for a moment.
“Just a few drops from this vial in his food will last for weeks. If you want the effects to be stronger, add a few more drops. When it seems to have worn off, do it again. It is tasteless and practically invisible. Indetectable. No one will be able to trace it.” Her voice was grating on his ears, but he could tell from her tone that she was very proud of her creation.
“But, what… What exactly will this do to the person affected?” He seemed nervous to question her. From previous experience, some sorcerers neglected to even tell him what something did because they either wanted him to find out for himself, or they worried that he sought the ingredients to copy their original recipe. That’s what he deserved for requesting such a vague goal of Camelot’s downfall.
Rather than being offended, she simply raised a bushy brow and smirked.
“Why, it’ll make a man’s deepest and truest desire the only thing on his mind. He won’t be able to think of anything else. While he’s so preoccupied with whatever he wishes for, he shall neglect the duties and people around him. Camelot will begin to crumble from within, but it will take time, so have patience.”
The man wasn’t so sure about the odd response, but it was good enough for him. Even if things failed miserably, at least nothing could be traced back to him and everything would be the same anyway.
“Thank you so much. If this succeeds, I’m sure you’ll hear news about Camelot’s fall.” He dropped a bag of heavy coins into her hand.
She grabbed his hand with her shriveled ones and held the potion between both of them. Looking deep into his eyes, she spoke softly.
“I wish you well.”
It was the most sincere she had sounded since he arrived in her small, yet cozy tent of a home.
He simply nodded, then pulled away from her, leaving her to inhale the scent of herbs.