You watch as yet another strong-looking young knight tries his hand at removing the enchanted sword from the its resting place in the stone, but his straining and grunting are to no avail, and the blade doesn't even budge. Frustrated that none of those assembled had succeeded, a call is made to use a tournament to settle the matter of kingship, and the knights and the crowd quickly drift away with mutterings questioning whether the prophecy had been wrong.
That is, all but one. The squire to one of the knights, youth barely more than a boy--no, girl--stands there, gazing intently at the famous sword of selection. You recognize her, know her well, and watch in mild anticipation as she steps forward. Soon, the culmination of years, decades of plans and schemes will come to fruition, the one the enchantment you placed on that famous sword was meant for ready to fulfill her destiny. She reaches out, her hand closing around the hilt, and--
"Before you draw that sword, you should think this over carefully," you suddenly speak up, unable to resist the urge to stop her. And the girl does indeed pause, turning to look at you in surprise.
"You surprised me. This is the first time I've seen you outside of a dream, Merlin."
You have her attention, now all you have to do is to convince her. To talk her into giving up this path. To avoid a terrible fate.
"I won't speak ill of you for it, but you'd be better off stopping right there," you say. Calmly, matter of factly. Surely she'll listen to her teacher's reasoned argument. "Once you take that sword, you will cease to be human. Not just that, but you'll be resented by all kinds of people, and you'll meet with a gruesome death."
The girl does not step down, however. "I won't."
This calls for a greater measure, then. "Are you sure?" you ask, and without another word, you weave for her an illusion. A vision in her mind of the future you've divined, both for this kingdom and for her. She watches wordlessly, and when it finishes...
"Many people were smiling. I believe there's no way that could be a mistake."
To your shock, she pulls out the sword without hesitation.
"Ah, you've drawn the sword!" you exclaim, perhaps more to yourself than anything. "You've chosen a harsh path. However, a miracle does require compensation. O King Arthur, you will give up that which is most precious to you."
Memory: The Sword in the Stone (for Seto Kaiba)
That is, all but one. The squire to one of the knights, youth barely more than a boy--no, girl--stands there, gazing intently at the famous sword of selection. You recognize her, know her well, and watch in mild anticipation as she steps forward. Soon, the culmination of years, decades of plans and schemes will come to fruition, the one the enchantment you placed on that famous sword was meant for ready to fulfill her destiny. She reaches out, her hand closing around the hilt, and--
"Before you draw that sword, you should think this over carefully," you suddenly speak up, unable to resist the urge to stop her. And the girl does indeed pause, turning to look at you in surprise.
"You surprised me. This is the first time I've seen you outside of a dream, Merlin."
You have her attention, now all you have to do is to convince her. To talk her into giving up this path. To avoid a terrible fate.
"I won't speak ill of you for it, but you'd be better off stopping right there," you say. Calmly, matter of factly. Surely she'll listen to her teacher's reasoned argument. "Once you take that sword, you will cease to be human. Not just that, but you'll be resented by all kinds of people, and you'll meet with a gruesome death."
The girl does not step down, however. "I won't."
This calls for a greater measure, then. "Are you sure?" you ask, and without another word, you weave for her an illusion. A vision in her mind of the future you've divined, both for this kingdom and for her. She watches wordlessly, and when it finishes...
"Many people were smiling. I believe there's no way that could be a mistake."
To your shock, she pulls out the sword without hesitation.
"Ah, you've drawn the sword!" you exclaim, perhaps more to yourself than anything. "You've chosen a harsh path. However, a miracle does require compensation. O King Arthur, you will give up that which is most precious to you."