Page 28 of The Sword & the Stone

Chapter Twenty-Eight

ARTHUR

We rode for hours, the Elhorns' hooves beating a steady rhythm against the forest floor. The Seelie palace had long since faded from view, swallowed up by the dense, ancient trees that surrounded us. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in dappled patterns, dancing across our skin and the Elhorns' shimmering coats.

Galahad rode beside me, babbling away, and the distraction was a welcome one. He'd taken it upon himself to be my guide, pointing out the magical creatures and plants that most humans would never have the chance to see.

"Look there," he said, gesturing to a patch of delicate blue flowers that seemed to glow from within. "Those are moonblooms. They only open in the twilight, and their nectar is said to grant prophetic dreams if you're brave enough to drink it. It’s always twilight in Avalon, so they’re always in bloom."

As we watched, a tiny creature no bigger than my thumb flitted out from between the petals. It had wings that shimmered like opal and a body that looked as if it had been carved from living wood.

"A pixie," Galahad explained. "They're mischievous little fuckers, but if you leave them milk and honey, they might help tend your garden or mend your clothes while you sleep."

I watched the pixie hop from one moonbloom to the next, harvesting its nectar. The tiny creature's movements were mesmerizing, graceful, and purposeful.

Luminescent mushrooms sprouted from the gnarled roots of ancient trees, their caps glowing with little white dots. Wisps of glowing mist drifted lazily through the air, curling around our Elhorns' legs. In the distance, I caught glimpses of shimmering, silver-colored deer bounding through the underbrush, their antlers gleaming like polished crystal.

"It's all so beautiful," I breathed, unable to keep the awe from my voice. "I’ve heard stories about Avalon ever since I was little, but this is something else…How did you ever leave this place? I would have gone mad in Albion knowing that this existed on the other side of a portal."

"We didn't have a choice," Percy said from behind us. "It was our duty to protect Excalibur and make sure it ended up in the right hands. We swore an oath, so we had to fulfill it." He brought his Elhorn closer until he was riding on my other side. "When Excalibur was bonded with the stone, we knew it might mean leaving our home for centuries, but time passes differently for fae. What seems like forever to humans is just a blink of an eye for us. We knew we’d eventually return home. But still, leaving wasn't easy."

I thought about what it would feel like when the time came for me to return to Albion. Something like dread coiled in my gut. Did I even want to go back to that place? What had the mortal realm ever done for me? Why should the fate of a kingdom that never cared about me rest on my shoulders?

This place, Avalon, felt like home from the moment I stepped foot through that pond, even if I hadn’t known where I was at the time. A sense of peace and belonging had hit me so hard that it was staggering. I never felt like that in Camelot.

I turned to Galahad, my brow furrowing as I voiced the question that had been nagging at me. "What happens after we find the Grail? When it's time to return to Albion?"

The easy smile slipped from Galahad's face, replaced by a more somber expression. He exchanged a quick glance with Percy, something unspoken passing between them. My chest immediately filled with butterflies, but not the good kind. I felt like I might vomit.

"We haven't really discussed it," Galahad admitted, his voice low. "It's...complicated."

I looked around at my other knights, noticing how they had all fallen silent, their faces suddenly guarded. "You're not planning on staying in Camelot, are you?" I said dryly, my heart sinking as I realized the truth. "You'll return to Avalon once your duty is fulfilled."

The silence that followed was deafening. Only the sounds of the soft thuds of our Elhorns' hooves on the mossy forest floor and the distant trill of birdsong could be heard.

Lancelot was the first to speak, his eyes meeting mine with a mixture of sadness and resolve. "Arthur, we've been away from our home for centuries. We've fulfilled our oath, protected Excalibur, and ensured it found its way to you. But Avalon...it’s our home.”

I nodded curtly, swallowing hard against the lump forming in my throat. "I understand," I said, my voice carefully neutral despite the storm of emotions raging inside me. "You've been away from your home for so long. Of course you'd want to return."

The forest around us seemed to sense the shift in mood, the vibrant colors dimming ever so slightly. The mushrooms that had dotted the path now glowed with a softer, more subdued light. Even the Elhorns beneath us seemed to move more slowly, their graceful steps becoming heavier, more deliberate.

Tristan urged his Elhorn closer, his eyes shimmering with something that looked suspiciously like regret. "Arthur, I?—"

"Don't," I cut him off, perhaps more sharply than I intended. "Please don't try to make this easier. I understand your decision, truly. There's no need to explain further."

I nudged my Elhorn forward, putting a bit of distance between myself and the others. The beast seemed to sense my need for space as it picked up its pace.

Hours later, we made camp. Not because darkness was falling—the perpetual twilight of Avalon meant the soft, ethereal glow never truly faded—but because our bodies, accustomed to the rhythms of the mortal realm, craved rest before we ventured beyond the Seelie borders into the wilder reaches of Avalon.

We found a small clearing nestled between the gnarled roots of ancient trees. Their bark shimmered with an iridescent sheen, and delicate tendrils of moss draped from their branches like living curtains.

As we dismounted, I noticed how the Elhorns' hooves left faint, glowing imprints on the moss-covered ground. The prints lingered for a few moments before fading away, as if the forest itself was slowly healing from our intrusion.

Merlin set about creating our campsite with a series of elegant gestures. Shimmering golden threads of magic wove through the air, coalescing into a large tent. The fabric was reed thin yet strong, its surface rippling with patterns that mimicked the play of moonlight on water.

He saw my questioning look and smirked with a shrug. “I can use my magic freely here, so I might as well make us comfortable.”

I wasn’t going to complain. I shivered at the thought of another long night of being eaten alive by bugs as I tossed and turned by the fire.

As we settled around the fire Merlin had conjured, a mesmerizing blaze of blue and violet flames that danced and swirled without producing smoke, the tension in the air was palpable. The knights moved with an uncharacteristic awkwardness, their usual easy camaraderie strained.

Galahad passed out portions of the provisions we'd been given. Bread that tasted like herbs and butter, dried sweet fruits, cheese, and strips of dried meat that smelled faintly of smoke and sage. Merlin busied himself with brewing tea.

I accepted a steaming cup from him, murmuring my thanks. The warmth seeped into my hands, but it did little to thaw the chill that had settled in my chest. I couldn't bring myself to meet the eyes of my knights, focusing instead on the hypnotic dance of the magical flames.

Lancelot cleared his throat, the sound jarring in the tense silence. "Arthur, we need to talk about this."

I looked up from the flames. I wanted to lose myself in those eyes, to forget the ache in my chest, but I couldn't. Not now.

"What's there to talk about?" I said rather than asked, my voice low and carefully controlled. "You've made your decision. I understand."

"It's not that simple. We've sworn oaths to protect you and to serve you until you’re securely on the throne of Camelot, but it doesn’t mean we’ll stop caring for you, or your safety. We’ll always protect you."

"Doesn't it?" I countered, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. "You'll be worlds away, in a realm more beautiful than I could ever hope to create in Albion. How exactly do you plan to protect me from there?"

Percival leaned forward, accepting a mug of tea from Merlin. "We could visit. We can use portals to travel between realms, to check on you?—"

"To check on me?" I interrupted, my temper flaring. I laughed bitterly. "Like I'm some helpless child who needs looking after? No, I don’t think so, Percival .” He flinched and for a moment, I almost felt bad. I cleared my throat. “No. What I’ll have to do is replace you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. Gawain's mug clattered against his teeth as he froze mid-sip. Lancelot's eyes flashed, a mix of hurt and anger swirling in their golden depths.

"Replace us?" Lancelot spat. "You can't be fucking serious."

I met his gaze, steeling myself against the pain I saw there. "What choice do I have? I need knights and protectors. If you're leaving, I'll have to find others."

Merlin cleared his throat, his blue eyes bright with concern. "Arthur, maybe we should consider alternatives. The bonds between you and your knights?—"

"Bonds?" I scoffed, interrupting whatever his placating lies were about to feed me. The word tasted bitter on my tongue. "There are no bonds , Merlin. Maybe there could have been, if we’d been given half a chance, but now that I know I’m ultimately going back to Camelot alone, I realize it was stupid of me to hope for it in the first place."

Percival's shadows seemed to deepen, stretching across the ground between us, as if his magic were reacting to the threat. "And who the fuck would take our place, hm? Human knights?” He laughed, the sound bitter and cold. Like the Percival I first met.

I stood up abruptly, unable to contain the storm of emotions churning inside me any longer. "Yes, human knights! Knights who won't abandon their queen the moment their duty is fulfilled. Knights who won't go flitting off to another realm while I'm left to rule a kingdom when I barely know how!"

The sword at my hip gave a sudden pulse, and I knew without having to see for myself that my eyes were glowing bright gold. I noticed the magic writhing inside of me, Avalon’s surge of magic making it stronger. The forest around us seemed to hold its breath, the usual symphony of night sounds falling eerily silent.

Galahad rose to his feet, his normally jovial eyes flashing with hurt and indignation. "We're not abandoning you! We've sworn to protect you, to serve you?—"

"For how long?" I demanded. "Until I sit on the throne? Until I produce an heir? Or just until you get bored with playing at being mortal?"

My words struck like physical blows, and I hated every single one. I hated that I felt this rage. I hated that I wanted to sob. Galahad flinched, and even Gawain's usual smirk was lost. Tristan's eyes were wide with shock, while Percival's shadows writhed and twisted around him like agitated snakes.

"That's not fair,” Lancelot hissed. “We've given centuries of our lives to this cause, to protect Excalibur and wait for you."

"And I'm supposed to be grateful for that?" I shot back, my voice rising. "Grateful that you waited for me, only to leave me alone in a world I barely understand? I didn't ask for any of this!"

The magical fire flared in response to my surging emotions, the flames leaping higher and changing from blue to a deep, angry crimson. The air around us crackled with energy, and I picked up on the pulse of magic thrumming through the earth beneath my feet.

Lancelot took a step towards me. "Arthur, you're not being rational. We're not abandoning you. We'll always be there if you need us?—"

"But you won't be there !" I cried, my voice cracking. "You won't be by my side every day, helping me navigate court politics or fending off assassins or-or just being there when I need someone to talk to. I won’t be able to hold you or feel you. You'll be here, in this magical wonderland, while I'm stuck in a cold stone castle surrounded by strangers!"

As I spoke, the circlet on my brow began to glow, pulsing in time with my racing heart. I could feel the metal growing warm against my skin. The knights' eyes widened as they watched the display of magic, a mixture of awe and concern on their faces.

"Do you have any idea what it's like?" I continued, my voice small. "To go from being a nobody on the streets to suddenly being told you're the heir to a kingdom? To have magic you don't understand coursing through your veins? To be thrust into a world of fae, monsters, and ancient prophecies? I've spent my entire life feeling like I didn't belong anywhere. Then I met all of you. For the first time, I felt like I found my place. Like I found a family."

The knights exchanged pained glances, the weight of my words settling heavily on their shoulders. Even Merlin looked stricken, his blue eyes wide with a mixture of sorrow and guilt.

"But now?" I laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and foreign to my own ears. "Now I realize it was all just a beautiful lie. You were never meant to stay. You were just fulfilling your duty, and once it's done, you'll leave. You’ll leave me…"

My voice trailed off, the last words barely a whisper. The weight of everything—the quest, the crown, the impending loss—suddenly felt crushing. I couldn't bear to look at their faces any longer, to see the mix of guilt and pity in their eyes.

"I need to be alone," I muttered, turning away from the camp.

Before anyone could protest, I strode into the shadowy depths of the forest. The luminescent moss beneath my feet pulsed with each step, leaving a trail of fading light behind me. I pushed through curtains of glowing vines, their delicate tendrils brushing against my skin like ghostly fingers.

The further I ventured from the camp, the more otherworldly the forest became. Flowers that looked like they were carved from living crystal bloomed in impossible colors, their petals chiming softly in the ethereal breeze. Tiny creatures with bodies made of living light flitted between the branches, leaving trails of stardust in their wake.

I found myself in a small clearing where an ancient tree stood sentinel. Its trunk was easily as wide as ten men standing shoulder to shoulder, its bark swirled with patterns that seemed to shift and change as I watched.

Several paces away, slightly down a small hill, was a pool of water so still and clear it looked like a mirror of liquid moonlight. As I knelt beside the pool, I felt a strange sense of familiarity wash over me. The silvery surface of the water seemed to ripple with unseen currents, beckoning me closer. I leaned forward, my reflection shimmering and distorting in the moonlit depths.

Suddenly, recognition struck me like a bolt of lightning. This was the same pond I’d stumbled on days ago, when the mysterious Lady of the Lake had lured me in with her haunting melody. The memory of that voice echoed in my mind still.

My eyes were drawn to the ancient tree, its massive trunk twisting towards the perpetual twilight sky. This was the very same tree where I’d encountered the glowing orb and received that riddle. We’d come full circle.

With trembling hands, I grasped the lowest branch, its bark rough against my palms. I hauled myself up, muscles straining as I found purchase on the twisting limbs. Tiny creatures scurried out of my way—miniature dragon-like creatures no bigger than my thumb with tiny little wings.

I found a wide, sturdy branch about halfway up the massive trunk and settled myself against it. The rough bark pressed into my back, but I welcomed the discomfort. It grounded me, reminding me that this wasn't just some beautiful dream.

From this vantage point, I could observe the entire clearing spread out below me. The pool of water gleamed like liquid moonlight, its surface occasionally rippling. In the distance, I could just make out the faint glow of our fire.

I continued climbing higher, my fingers finding purchase on gnarled knots and twisted branches. Delicate spirals of moss coiled around the trunk, pulsing softly with a light that seemed to respond to my touch before fading again.

About halfway up, I found a wide, bowl-shaped hollow where several large branches converged. It was as if the tree itself had crafted a perfect sanctuary, hidden high above the forest floor. The hollow was lined with soft moss.

I settled into the hollow, drawing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. The ancient tree creaked and swayed gently, as if trying to rock me like a babe in a cradle. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the beauty of the forest around me.

Tiny, glowing creatures that looked like a cross between butterflies and jellyfish drifted lazily through the air. Their translucent bodies pulsed with soft, ever-changing colors; blues fading to purples, then greens, then back again. One floated close, its delicate tendrils brushing against my cheek in what felt like a comforting caress.

In the distance, I could hear the haunting call of some unseen beast. The sound was unlike anything I'd ever heard before: part mournful howl, part melodic song.

The leaves of the great tree rustled, though there was no breeze. Peering closer, I realized each leaf was covered in intricate, ever-shifting patterns. Spirals became stars became flowers, an endless dance of nature's artistry. It was mesmerizing, beautiful...and so very alien.

This was their world, not mine. No matter how much I might wish otherwise. A sob caught in my throat as the full weight of my situation crashed over me. The tears came then, hot and relentless. I buried my face in my hands, my body shaking with the force of my sobs.

Around me, the forest seemed to respond to my distress. The tiny jellyfish-like creatures drifted closer. One settled on my shoulder, its soft tendrils brushing against my tear-stained cheek in a feather-light caress.

In the distance, that haunting song grew louder, as if some ancient creature was lending its voice to my sadness. The melody wove through the air, achingly beautiful and indescribably sad. But it made me feel not so alone for just a few short moments.

I thought of Galahad's easy smile and terrible jokes, of the way he'd taken me under his wing from the very beginning. I imagined Gawain's cocky grin and the gentleness in his touch. Percival's gruff exterior that hid a quiet passion. Tristan's wisdom and the way his silver eyes seemed to see right through to my soul.

And Lancelot...golden, beautiful Lancelot. The memory of his lips on mine, the way he'd held me as if I were the most precious thing in all the realms, made my heart ache with a pain so exquisite I could hardly breathe.

Even Merlin, my oldest friend, would be leaving me. He belonged here, in this world of magic and wonder. How could I ask him to give up everything he'd dreamed of to stay by my side in a cold stone castle, stuck in a magicless world?

Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks as I imagined returning to Camelot alone. The thought of walking those drafty corridors without Galahad's laughter echoing off the walls, of facing court politics without Percival's steady presence at my back, made me feel small and utterly fucking lost.