The Poison Rose: A King Arthur Tale

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by Matthew Argyle


  Although the pit Arthur was in had no name, Arthur would have considered no name equivalent to his pain. One part of his heart felt a terrifying anger towards the witch and this part propelled at least part of his desire to escape. However, another part of him, because of shame and the pain of unreciprocated love for a person to whom he so desperately cleaved to and loved, and along with the fact that such a good man loved such an evil woman, made him fear love as he would a powerful poison. Great pain came because Arthur knew that it was no injustice for the woman to not love him. He knew she had just a right to love or not love as did Arthur. But, the pain in this moment could never be understated. No earthly gift could compare to the gift of love that she could have given him, and Arthur certainly would have paid any price. He knew his duty to the world and, in turn, he hoped deep down that the world would give back to him.

  In this pit all of Arthur’s dark and dismal emotion seemed to have combined. He felt every spiritual pain that he could imagine—regret, shame, sadness, and guilt. He also seemed to feel every physical pain possible—his side hurt, he felt weak, and all he could see was darkness. While there in the pit the witch’s words still lingered with him, filling his mind and heart with a pain foretold by Merlin—a nearly unbearable pain. There, in the pit, his mind was drawn to all of the witch’s flattering words and actions. But all of them, he knew, were a lie. It was a lie that sunk into his heart and filled it with a terrifying anger—an anger against the world, against all evil, and, most certainly, against himself for believing any of it.

  However, aside from all the pain, turmoil, loneliness, and grief, Arthur felt a small part of his heart fill with a bright light. It was then that his mind was drawn to Merlin’s words, “Remember this Arthur. The greatest men and women are those who, when the world grows dark and filled with evil, show everyone that there is still light left, even if that light can only come from within the deepest chasms of their own heart.” Indeed, when Arthur went past all of the pain and suffering he experienced something else entirely. He experienced a light and a hope. It was in this moment that he truly understood what it meant to be human. After all, humans hope even though they feel no reason to, love even though their hearts are broken, and live even though their body fails them.

  No name would be sufficient to describe the terror and pain Arthur experienced in this pit. But if a name had to be assigned to it, it would be called the Pit for the Broken-Hearted, a pit reserved for all those righteous and virtuous men and women in history who were forced to experience the pains of a broken-heart. It was this pain that hurt the most.

  Although Arthur felt sorrow for himself to be in such a situation and with the pain of a broken-heart, his heart felt like it was suddenly being miraculously mended. How might you say? How was Arthur’s heart being mended? It was by no magic, at least that Arthur knew. Instead, it was being healed by his own mind imagining all of those women of the past who were forced to mercilessly cross this wasteland and die in these pits, as well as by his own memory of all those men, women, and children who he knew were now suffering. It was also being healed by his beloved knights who labored for him and by his love and memory of his beautiful daughter Alice and old-wife Guinevere. In short, it was being healed by the love that he felt for all the good people that he now knew were suffering. He didn’t believe that this would mend his heart fully or perfectly, but enough to get him to keep moving forward, to try to find a way to escape this pit and help the world.

  Arthur stared up out of the pit with the shadow of light that there was, knowing full well his only escape was to climb. So he looked up at the sides of the pit for rocks, grooves, or anything to help him climb up out of the pit. He did see something.

  Emerging from the inside of the pit were what appeared to be thick roots of trees. Arthur then remembered the witch’s words. Before this land was changed, before large pits were dug in the ground, there were great and tall trees. The roots he could see must have come from the ancient trees that once lived and flourished in this region.

  Arthur found enough strength to get himself up on both feet. “I am not going to die in here!” he thought.

  Arthur tried climbing up the sides of the pit by the thick roots that lingered along the pit’s edge. He was able to jump, grab onto the first root, and pull himself onto it. Then with the large root between his legs he looked up and saw another root about nine feet higher. This root curved upward however, and was much smaller than the thick root he was currently perched on. Arthur thought he might be able to reach it if he could balance himself on the root he was already on and then reach up and grab it. But the root was not very firm or stable and the first time he tried to stand up on it he fell back down to the ground.

  The second time he was a little more successful. He was able to stand on top of the root and maintain his balance. However, he couldn’t quite reach the next root without leaping and when he tried to jump a little, the root was far too slippery and he, again, found himself staring down at the bottom of the pit floor.

  He was getting much weaker now. Blood was streaming out of his side wound and he again tried to hold back the bleeding. But he knew he had to get out. He knew that was his only hope.

  So again, for a third time, he got up onto the first root, balanced himself on the top of it, and leapt up to the second root. This time however, the second root was far too feeble and couldn’t hold his weight. Arthur heard a snap and fell down at the bottom of the pit hard, where he hit his side hard on a rock at the bottom of the pit, causing even more blood to pour out of his wound. Arthur let out another painful screech and rolled over so he could look up towards the top of the pit once more, this time with a broken root branch in his hand.

  Arthur had far too little strength left now. The sides of the pit were too muddy for it to do him any good and now it seemed there were not enough roots and the roots that were there were too far apart and feeble for them to be of much use to him.

  In those moments Arthur prepared to die, knowing full well that he only had a matter of minutes left before his strength would entirely be gone.

  “Merlin!” he muttered. He suddenly remembered the words of Merlin and how he had rejected everything he said. “I am sorry…”

  But then, just before all was lost he thought he heard a voice come from above. It was a soft, but nevertheless powerful and even familiar voice. “Arthur, why are you still down there?”

  Arthur looked up. He thought it was a dream, but after a few blinks he knew it wasn’t. There, at the top of the cave and looking down, was Merlin—except he did not look as he remembered him. Now he looked so much more noble and angelic. The man radiated a bright light that seemed to fill the pit with light. He was dressed, not in his usual raggedy grey clothes, but in a spotless white robe and had, not his usual broken down black cane, but a bright white staff. The old man stood erect, his eyes looking down, not with dismay or disappointment, but with the love of a tender father after having watched his child go astray. “Come up Arthur! Your kingdom needs you, but this time not as a king, but a hero.”

  “Merlin!” exclaimed Arthur joyfully. He had never been so happy to see someone in his life. “But how? How did you find me and not fall into the pits?”

  “I am much more knowledgeable than you suppose,” replied Merlin. Merlin suddenly opened his hands to reveal a whole bunch of large fireflies, quite unlike any creature he before seen. “Fireflies are wonderful creatures and I have found that they are smarter than most suppose. They showed me the way to you…and well, as for the pits, there is a reason why I walk with a cane.” Merlin tapped his staff around on the top of the pit.

  Arthur laughed. “Of course…”

  Merlin’s staff obviously had more uses than one, and having an object to tap around the pits would be extremely useful here.

  “After you left I feared that the witch would do terrible things to you and I figured she would bring you here,” said Merlin.

  Arthur smiled and laughed. “So
you finally left your hut.”

  “Yes, well desperate times call for desperate measures,” replied Merlin, smiling as well.

  “Can you get me out?”

  “I can’t,” said Merlin. “But your sword can!”

  Suddenly Arthur watched as a long object fell down from the top of the pit by his feet. He looked over and saw his sheath and the sword that, when pulled from its sheath, seemed to glow a bright white. “What am I supposed to do with a sword?” asked Arthur. “How is this going to help me get out of here?”

  “The sword will help its master,” said Merlin. “But you must figure out how. The sword will obey your heart.”

  Arthur picked up the sword, suddenly feeling a connection with it that he had never before felt. It seemed to give him greater strength and agility.

  “Use your feelings and not your thoughts,” said Merlin.

  Arthur stood up and looked down at the sword, trying hard to focus on his feelings. Then, without really thinking he swung his sword up at the side of the pit, immediately cutting one of the roots. At first he was disappointed. This seemed like the opposite of what he wanted. He needed more root branches, not less.

  But then, miraculously, the root began to grow out again, this time much stronger and larger than before. “How is this possible?” thought Arthur. It seemed as if nature herself were trying to aid in his return. Arthur was pleased and jumped, grabbing firmly on the large root branch above him. He sat on top of it and then looked up. Above him was the root branch that before he snapped in two. It jutted only a few feet out from the pit wall.

  But Arthur didn’t delay. He took his sword firmly in his hands and cut that branch. Again he watched as, like before, the branch grew out longer and firmer, this time dipping downward slightly, enough so that this time Arthur didn’t even have to jump to grab ahold of it.

  Once Arthur had lifted himself up onto this next root branch he stared above him but noticed that there was no root big enough for him to grab ahold of and use to hold his way. However, as he stared across the pit he noticed a root on the other side.

  This root branch came from the opposite side of the pit a few feet above eyelevel. It seemed long and strong (it was at least four feet across and ended not much before his current root support ended). However, Arthur was not taking any chances. He inched his way carefully to the end of his root and took a swing at the root on the other side. And, like always, the root grew even more than what was cut.

  Arthur reached over and grabbed ahold of this new root and lifted himself up. He continued to follow this process, gradually working his way up towards the top of the pit. All the roots he cut seemed to bulge outward as if these long dead remnants of nature’s past were saying, “Go! Get out! Rise! Live for us!” This was the first sign to Arthur of the turning of the tide.

  Arthur smiled as he stared up towards the top of the pit, now only a few feet away. It was then, when he cut the final root, that he reached over and clasped the edge of the pit. He feared falling back down, but then, just before his hand slipped from off of the wet dirt he felt a hand grab his. It was Merlin’s.

  “You are not so lightweight now,” said Merlin as he helped pull him up.

  After Arthur resurfaced from the pit Merlin smiled and said “Welcome back.” He then handed him some kind of leaf. It was the size of Arthur’s hand and, when he felt it, it felt like it was made of spider-webs. It was light-green and mystical in a way Arthur had yet to completely understand.

  “What is this?” asked Arthur.

  “For your wound,” said Merlin, knowing what Arthur was going to say. “Place it over your wound and then it will stick to it and stop the bleeding.”

  “What is this?” Arthur placed it on his side and he watched as it magically seemed to cleave to his wound and stop the bleeding, which made it feel somewhat better.

  “It is a leaf from a medicinal tree near my home,” said Merlin. “I have been growing them for a long time, and see that you now could use it.”

  “Tell me Merlin…are you a wizard? I have heard of wizards existing in the past. I know the idea is ridiculous, but I think it amazing that…”

  Merlin seemed to laugh at the idea and interrupted Arthur before he could say a word more, “I am many things Arthur, but I am no wizard. I assure you of that. I am just an old man with some tricks up my sleeve.”

  “I am sorry I didn’t listen to you,” said Arthur. “I have failed.”

  “It is better to fail early and learn from your mistakes than to fail later,” replied Merlin. “But know that you have not truly failed. You have only committed the universal sin of man—showing that you are indeed human.”

  “What is the universal sin of man?”

  “Pride Arthur! Oh, how many terrible things have been done by man because of pride! You believed that since you were a great king you deserved the witch, to have her, to control her, and thus be able to purify her and the rest of the kingdom. But know that with pride come all other sins, for pride causes a man to assume that his opinion and desires are always true and virtuous. It causes you to assume that the world itself would fear to do you wrong. But as you have found, this is far from true. No matter how beautiful a woman, or the world itself, appears to be on the outside, there still will be great evil that must be feared and understood.”

  “I fell for her Merlin, and my heart felt the searing pain of lost love once she rejected me. I couldn’t use the love potion on her…then she gave me an opportunity to kill her, to end all of this, but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have it in my heart to kill her.”

  Merlin shook his head in disapproval. “Arthur, my dear Arthur, murder is not a sign that you have not fallen for someone. Instead it is quite the opposite. Killing her would have meant that your anger of living without her love incited inside of your soul a hatred nearly unfathomable which, in the end, would have proven that you, in fact, are still in love with her. The fact that you did not give her the love potion and did not kill her showed that you had not entirely fallen for her. This showed the witch and the deepest magic of all that you would not compromise who you are for who she is—and this is the greatest sign that, although you fell in love with this woman, you were ultimately able to retreat from this love and not entirely succumb to it. Know this Arthur, the greatest sign that you have not truly fallen for a witch is not resisting feelings towards her, but being able to live without her. If you can live without her then you have not truly fallen for her. Do you feel you must be with her?” Arthur shook his head. “Then you have not completely fallen for her. You were not completely hooked. Thus how bad you feel now is how good you may feel if you believe in love! You are now bound to your people Arthur, and your people to you. If you fail so will your people.”

  “But what about the witch? She has taken over my kingdom; I cannot return now. She has gone to Camelot, and with the traitor Mordred, taken over my kingdom. Now I have nothing but you and this sword as my ally.”

  “Do not worry about Mordred’s treachery!” exclaimed Merlin. “Mordred will soon find out that the witch does not share power! And do not think that all hope is lost. The witch has won a victory, yes, but this is only a battle and not the war. And to be honest, she actually made a grave mistake in sending you out here to these pits to suffer before death. Her desire for revenge may be her downfall.”

  “But why did she make a mistake?”

  “Because you are not like everyone else that has fallen in love with her,” said Merlin. “You are not her servant. You are not dead. And you are not miserable and afraid of her, like those who left her. Thus she will soon find that her magical powers will begin to weaken. You see, the ‘Poison Rose,’ the rose that gave her power, did so upon a solemn promise, a promise that the woman would make every man she met bound to her by falling in love with her and being her slave, by being miserable, being turned into stone, or by dying. But now that you are alive and not miserable she will find herself slowly becoming weaker. But we must be wary,
for evil is always even more fierce and vile when it is weakening than when it is strong. She will be afraid. In addition, she will soon find that she is weakening and when she discovers this she will know you have somehow survived. Then, along with Mordred, she will lock down Camelot. She will tighten its defenses in preparation for any attack you might make on the city.”

  “How are we going to assault the city? We don’t have any army, let alone enough men to assault the city?”

  “Know that you are not alone Arthur, for during the night I rode to Camelot and entered the castle through the secret passageway. Then I secretly snuck into the city, and with the help of Lancelot’s wife Elaine, I freed the knights and faithful soldiers that Mordred imprisoned. Gawain, the leader of the city, was surprised at my presence and was the only knight that remained in the city to watch over it although I feel that he would side with us should it come to battle.”

  “You freed them!” Arthur was overjoyed and to be frank, quite surprised. He had never thought of Merlin as capable of anything grand or adventurous.

  “Yes,” laughed Merlin. “We snuck them out of the city through the secret passageway and led them back to my hut, out of the witch’s vision, where they now await your command. They will follow you no matter what you dictate.”

  “Thank you Merlin,” said Arthur, placing his hands on Merlin’s shoulders. “I don’t know what I would do without you. But how will I defeat this witch?”

  “There is what I call a super state,” replied Merlin, “a state of man that, after so many rejections—after he has fallen into the deepest pit, after love itself has betrayed him, he yet continues; in this state the man is nearly invincible, driven by pure will—not for himself, but for the world around him. You see, a super state comes when a good man is awakened to the injustices of the world, especially the injustice of corrupt love. Righteousness is then enlarged within him. And it is in this state, and with your return, that the tides of the world have changed. Light has come back! Hope, love, and trust are filling the forests again just by your return! So come, dear Arthur, we have a kingdom to win back!”

 

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