Morning arrived slowly in Caer Lerion.
Sunlight filtered through the ancient city.
⸻ The streets were already busy.
⸻ Merchants opened their stalls.
⸻ Blacksmiths began their work.
⸻ Soldiers changed shifts.
⸻ Children ran through narrow streets.
⸻ Despite the fear.
Despite the exhaustion.
The city lived.
⸻ Arthur liked it immediately.
⸻ “It’s lively.” ⸻ Thomas looked around.
⸻ “We’re standing next to a building that’s half collapsed.” ⸻ Arthur nodded.
⸻ “Exactly.” ⸻ Nobody understood him.
⸻ Not even Arthur.
⸻ The Old City As they walked deeper into the city— Arthur noticed something.
⸻ The architecture changed.
⸻ The further inward they went.
⸻ The older everything became.
⸻ Buildings gave way to ruins.
⸻ Ancient roads appeared beneath newer stone.
⸻ Broken statues stood at intersections.
⸻ Crumbling walls remained between houses.
⸻ It felt as though one city had been built atop another.
⸻ Morgan looked ready to ascend to another plane of existence.
⸻ “This place is amazing.” ⸻ “No.” Jakel replied immediately.
⸻ “It is.” ⸻ “It really isn’t.” ⸻ “It has history.” ⸻ “It has structural problems.” ⸻ Morgan ignored him.
⸻ As usual.
⸻ Arthur stopped.
⸻ At the center of a small plaza.
⸻ A weathered statue stood there.
⸻ Most of it had broken long ago.
⸻ The face was gone.
⸻ The inscriptions were damaged.
⸻ Only a sword remained clearly visible.
⸻ Arthur stared.
⸻ Something about it felt familiar.
⸻ Very familiar.
⸻ Inside Aethelion.
⸻ Leona stared too.
⸻ “…Interesting.” ⸻ Arthur frowned.
⸻ “What?” ⸻ “Nothing.” ⸻ That meant something.
⸻ Arthur knew it.
⸻ The Captain Returns “You’re the travelers.” ⸻ Arthur turned.
⸻ Captain Gareth approached.
⸻ He looked even more tired than yesterday.
⸻ Which Arthur hadn’t thought possible.
⸻ “Good morning.” Arthur said.
⸻ Gareth blinked.
⸻ “…You’re cheerful.” ⸻ Arthur smiled.
⸻ “Shouldn’t I be?” ⸻ The captain looked around.
⸻ At the exhausted soldiers.
⸻ At the worried civilians.
⸻ At the damaged buildings.
⸻ Then looked back at Arthur.
⸻ “…I suppose.” ⸻ Silence.
⸻ Gareth rubbed his forehead.
⸻ Then sighed.
⸻ Again.
⸻ He seemed to do that a lot.
⸻ “The Duke wishes to meet you.” ⸻ Silence.
⸻ Thomas blinked.
⸻ Morgan blinked.
⸻ Even Jakel looked surprised.
⸻ Arthur pointed at himself.
⸻ “Me?” ⸻ “And your companions.” ⸻ “Why?” ⸻ “You offered to help.” ⸻ “That’s true.” ⸻ “He’d like to know if you’re serious.” ⸻ Arthur smiled.
⸻ “We are.” ⸻ Gareth stared.
⸻ The man never hesitated.
⸻ Not once.
⸻ For reasons he couldn’t explain— that was reassuring.
⸻ The Fortress The Duke’s residence sat atop the highest hill in the city.
⸻ Ancient walls surrounded it.
⸻ Watchtowers overlooked every approach.
⸻ Soldiers stood guard everywhere.
⸻ Yet despite its imposing appearance— the fortress looked old.
⸻ Very old.
⸻ The oldest structure in the entire city.
⸻ Arthur couldn’t stop staring.
⸻ “You like old buildings too much.” Thomas said.
⸻ “They have stories.” ⸻ “They have holes.” ⸻ “History.” ⸻ “Structural damage.” ⸻ Morgan nodded.
⸻ “Both can be true.” ⸻ For once.
⸻ Everyone agreed with Morgan.
⸻ The Throne Room The doors opened.
⸻ Arthur expected grandeur.
⸻ He expected luxury.
⸻ He expected nobility.
⸻ Instead— he found paperwork.
⸻ Piles of paperwork.
⸻ Stacks of reports.
⸻ Documents covering nearly every available surface.
⸻ And behind all of it— sat a young man.
⸻ Golden-blonde hair.
⸻ Clear blue eyes.
⸻ Simple but finely crafted attire.
⸻ A sword rested nearby.
⸻ Despite his age.
⸻ Exhaustion lined his face.
⸻ The kind of exhaustion that came from responsibility.
⸻ He looked up.
⸻ Then blinked.
⸻ Because Arthur was smiling.
⸻ For some reason.
⸻ “Hello.” Arthur said.
⸻ Silence.
⸻ The young duke blinked again.
⸻ “…Hello.” ⸻ More silence.
⸻ Then: ⸻ “…Why are you smiling?” ⸻ Arthur looked confused.
⸻ “Shouldn’t I be?” ⸻ The young duke looked around.
⸻ At the paperwork.
⸻ At the reports.
⸻ At his responsibilities.
⸻ Then looked back at Arthur.
⸻ “…I don’t know.” ⸻ Thomas laughed.
⸻ Morgan smiled.
⸻ Jakel looked amused.
⸻ Even Evangelos seemed interested.
⸻ The young duke sighed.
⸻ For some reason— he suddenly had a headache.
⸻ Lancelot The young man stood.
⸻ “I am Lancelot Caer Lerion.” ⸻ He offered a polite bow.
⸻ “Duke of Caer Lerion.” ⸻ Arthur returned it.
⸻ “I’m Arthur.” ⸻ That was all.
⸻ Lancelot blinked.
⸻ “…Arthur.” ⸻ “Yes.” ⸻ Silence.
⸻ “…Just Arthur?” ⸻ “Yes.” ⸻ Thomas nearly laughed.
⸻ Evangelos covered his face.
⸻ Jakel looked upward.
⸻ Morgan smiled.
⸻ Lancelot suddenly understood.
⸻ These people were unusual.
⸻ Very unusual.
⸻ A Shared Burden Lancelot invited them to sit.
⸻ Tea was served.
⸻ Nobody touched it.
⸻ Mostly because everyone was looking at the reports.
⸻ Arthur looked at one.
⸻ Missing villages.
⸻ Another.
⸻ Monster attacks.
⸻ Another.
⸻ Food shortages.
⸻ Another.
⸻ Refugee concerns.
⸻ Another.
⸻ Supply problems.
⸻ Arthur slowly lowered the paper.
⸻ “You’ve been doing all of this?” ⸻ Lancelot looked confused.
⸻ “Someone has to.” ⸻ Silence.
⸻ Arthur looked at him.
⸻ Really looked at him.
⸻ Young.
⸻ Tired.
⸻ Overworked.
⸻ Trying his best.
⸻ And carrying entirely too much by himself.
⸻ For some reason— Arthur smiled.
⸻ Lancelot blinked.
⸻ Again.
⸻ “Why are you smiling now?” ⸻ Arthur answered immediately.
⸻ “I think we’ll get along.” ⸻ Silence.
⸻ Complete silence.
⸻ Thomas buried his face in his hands.
⸻ Morgan laughed.
⸻ Jakel sighed.
⸻ Evangelos looked fascinated.
⸻ Even Eidra smiled.
⸻ Lancelot simply stared.
⸻ Then looked at the mountain of paperwork.
⸻ Then at Arthur.
⸻ Then back again.
⸻ For reasons he couldn’t explain— he felt a little less tired.
⸻ And for even less explainable reasons— he believed him.
End of Chapter 18