The village looked exactly the same.
And completely different.
Children ran through the streets.
Farmers worked the fields.
Smoke rose from chimneys.
Life continued as it always had.
Yet Arthur couldn’t stop looking toward the horizon.
Toward the roads leading away from Ashbourne.
Toward everything he had never seen.
Unfortunately.
Before any grand journey could begin— he had to explain the talking sword.
That went about as well as expected.
“There’s a girl inside it?” “Yes.” “And only you can hear her?” “Yes.” “And you expect us to believe that?” Arthur paused.
“…When you say it like that, it sounds strange.” “It sounds insane.” Lyra corrected.
Nira nodded.
Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose.
Leona immediately contributed.
“I like Rowan.” Arthur sighed.
“Please don’t encourage them.” “Absolutely not.” The sword spirit sounded far too pleased with herself.
His friends exchanged concerned looks.
Arthur chose to ignore them.
Mostly because he had no better explanation.
Aaron Pendragon The sun hung low when Arthur finally returned home.
His grandfather sat outside exactly where he always sat.
Tea beside him.
Watching the fields.
Waiting.
Arthur stopped.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Aaron looked toward the sword on Arthur’s back.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“You found it.” Arthur froze.
“…You knew?” The old man chuckled.
“I suspected.” Arthur sat beside him.
Questions immediately filled his mind.
But one stood above all others.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Aaron stared toward the horizon.
The answer took a long time to come.
“Because some roads must be chosen.” The wind moved through the fields.
“If I told you where to go…” His voice remained calm.
“It wouldn’t truly be your journey.” Arthur lowered his gaze.
The words made sense.
Even if part of him wished they didn’t.
Aaron eventually looked toward him.
“You’re leaving.” Not a question.
A statement.
Arthur nodded.
“Yeah.” The old man smiled.
A small smile.
Proud.
Sad.
Knowing.
“I figured.” Arthur laughed.
“Am I really that predictable?” “Terribly.” Leona immediately added: “I agree.” Arthur decided everyone was against him.
The Promise As evening arrived, Arthur climbed the hill overlooking Ashbourne.
The old oak tree stood waiting.
Just as it always had.
The place where dreams had been shared.
The place where promises had been made.
The place where childhood slowly became something more.
Rowan was already there.
Reading.
Naturally.
Lyra sat upon one of the branches.
Also naturally.
Nira arrived shortly after.
Carrying herbs.
Again.
Naturally.
Arthur smiled.
For a while none of them spoke.
The sunset painted the sky gold.
Beautiful.
Peaceful.
Home.
Finally Rowan broke the silence.
“When?” Arthur understood immediately.
“Tomorrow.” Lyra sighed.
“That soon?” Arthur nodded.
The road ahead felt uncertain.
Yet staying felt impossible.
Not after the dungeon.
Not after the sword.
Not after the dream.
Nira smiled softly.
“I knew this day would come.” Arthur looked surprised.
“You did?” She laughed.
“Arthur.” A pause.
“You once tried to map the entire continent using three stories and a stick.” Lyra nearly fell from the tree laughing.
Rowan closed his book.
Even he smiled.
Arthur felt slightly betrayed.
“That was one time.” “It was six.” Rowan answered.
“Traitor.” The Dream The laughter eventually faded.
The sunset deepened.
And the conversation became quieter.
More serious.
Arthur looked toward the horizon.
Then spoke.
“I’m still going to do it.” Nobody asked what he meant.
They already knew.
“Unite humanity.” The words felt ridiculous.
Impossible.
Yet Arthur said them anyway.
“Maybe it’ll take years.” “Maybe decades.” “Maybe I’ll fail.” The wind moved through the oak leaves.
“But I have to try.” Silence followed.
Then Rowan stood.
Slowly.
The future strategist extended his hand.
Just as he had years ago.
“If you’re going to chase something impossible…” A faint smile appeared.
“You’ll need people to support you.” Nira placed her hand atop his.
“I’m with you.” Lyra dropped from the tree.
“And somebody has to stop you from getting killed.” Arthur laughed.
Then placed his hand atop theirs.
The same promise.
The same dream.
Yet somehow it felt different now.
Bigger.
Real.
“Together.” Rowan said.
“Together.” Nira answered.
“Together.” Lyra agreed.
Arthur smiled.
“Together.” Far away.
Inside Aethelion.
Leona listened quietly.
For once.
She said nothing.
Because the promise reminded her of something.
Someone.
A memory she wasn’t ready to revisit.
The loneliness returned.
Briefly.
Then faded.
“…Idiots.” Yet there was no bitterness in her voice.
Only warmth.
Departure The next morning arrived too quickly.
Ashbourne gathered near the village entrance.
News traveled fast.
Especially when Arthur Pendragon was involved.
His grandfather stood at the front.
Rowan.
Lyra.
Nira.
Friends.
Family.
Neighbors.
People he cared about.
Arthur adjusted the sword across his back.
Aethelion felt heavier than usual.
Or perhaps the moment did.
Aaron stepped forward.
For a second Arthur thought he might say something wise.
Something profound.
Something memorable.
Instead: “Try not to do anything stupid.” Arthur laughed.
“No promises.” Aaron groaned.
“That’s exactly what I was afraid of.” The village erupted into laughter.
Even Arthur.
Especially Arthur.
Then he took a step forward.
Beyond the village.
Beyond the fields.
Beyond everything he had ever known.
The road stretched toward the horizon.
Toward kingdoms.
Toward wars.
Toward legends.
Toward destiny.
And somewhere far ahead.
A priestess with silver hair would soon cross his path.
A goddess would begin falling in love.
A king would be born.
And history itself would begin to change.
Arthur Pendragon smiled.
Then started walking.
The journey had finally begun.
End of Chapter 7