Unknownfate
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Chapter 107
🕑 Added 2025-04-23 14:30:54 +0000 UTCSersi and Sprite could hardly believe their eyes when they entered the city of Camelot; it was truly an unbelievable sight. And they had seen a lot.
Yet no place on Earth could compare with this place.
It was a strange fusion of theme park charm and real city life. Home to hundreds of thousands, Camelot buzzed with the vibrancy of a metropolis reborn. The streets teemed with merchants hawking food and handcrafted wares beside towering walls and towers, it had the look of an ancient city, but the life of a modern one.
Tourists mingled with locals. Men in pressed suits and women in sundresses strolled beside farmers in lookalike roughspun linen and smiths in leather aprons. Street performers in shining armor recited poetry on corners, while food carts sold lamb pasties and energy bars with equal flair.
“The air here,” Sersi said, taking a breath so deep it softened her shoulders. “It really is as described.”
“Yeah,” Sprite agreed, her expression unguarded for once. “Just like back in the days.” She tilted her head to the sky, eyes gleaming. “No smoke, no drones, no sirens—just the scent of blooming lavender and fresh bread.”
“So…” Sprite turned toward her companion as they strolled past an amazing mural of the Battle of Badon Hill, where glass almost came to life to depict knights clashing. “What do we do now? Get information? Seek out Arthur? Or just enjoy our stay?”
“Let’s explore first,” Sersi said after a pause. “I want to see what this city has to offer.”
“Cool.” Sprite grinned wide as she took the lead, striding forward like she belonged.
And for once, the world seemed to agree.
They wandered through the Scholar’s Crescent, where lectures on history and magical theory were given in open courtyards beneath enchanted lanterns. How much was true was unknown, but it had the flair of a performance more than real, yet all the same, people listened in rapture.
They passed one large market after another, countless items on display, from everyday goods to cheap trinkets. The city had it all.
Eventually, they ended up in a small corner tavern just off the artisan’s square. The sign read The Bronze Grail, and a faded mural of knights and dragons decorated the outer wall.
Sprite wasted no time plopping onto a stool at the polished oak bar. “Two pints of your best,” she said, earning a dubious look from the barmaid.
The woman leaned in. “How old are you, really?”
“Old enough to remember the fall of Babylon,” Sprite deadpanned.
The barmaid stared a moment longer, shrugged, and filled two tankards with golden ale.
“Now that,” Sprite said, lifting the pint with both hands, “is magic.”
“Sprite…” Sersi rubbed her temple as she sat beside her. “We’re here to observe, remember? Not cause a scene.”
“What? We’re tourists. Retired immortals. Let me have one moment where I don’t get carded like a child in every pub from London to Lima.”
She lifted the pint to her lips with theatrical reverence. “To Camelot,” she said, before taking a long drink.
They stayed for a while—long enough to listen to a bard singing an ode to “The King Who Walks Among Mortals.” Long enough to see locals toast to their new ruler and speak of the future with a kind of hope that neither Sersi nor Sprite had felt in a long time.
Then the moment broke.
All of a sudden, the entire tavern grew quiet, and everyone seemed to hold their breath. Yet it wasn’t out of fear, but more awe and respect.
For there in the doorway stood a man, one clad in the finest of armor. While plenty of people around Camelot wore such, the were a massive difference between what they wore, and what this man wore.
This was a knight. And not just any knight, but a Knight of the Round Table.
Sir Percival himself—the Knight of the Dove.
His armor gleamed not with ostentation, but with quiet dignity. Silver-white plate embossed with heraldic feathers, a deep blue cloak over one shoulder. His sun-kissed hair caught the candlelight, and his eyes radiated warmth even before he smiled.
That smile could’ve disarmed a battlefield.
"Apologies for the interruption,” he said with a voice as gentle as it was firm. “But the King has sensed your presence and has extended an invitation.”
He inclined his head toward Sersi and Sprite. “You are most welcome in this realm, and your presence is an honor to us all. Will you accompany me?”
Sprite’s eyebrows rose. “Well, when you put it like that…” She hopped off the stool and took one last gulp of her beer. “Lead on, shiny armor.”
Sersi rose more slowly, adjusting her coat and offering a small nod. “We’d be honored.”
Percival turned with a quiet grace and led them back into the sunlit street. The tavern door closed behind them, and murmurs resumed in their wake—curious, reverent, and excited.
As they followed him through the city, people stepped aside instinctively, parting like the tide before a ship’s bow. Children whispered and pointed, while adults offered respectful nods or bows.
Sprite soaked in the attention with a satisfied smirk. “You know,” she said under her breath, “it’s been a long time since we got treated like this, not since well, way back then.”
“That is a good thing, it means we aren’t needed, and it's different. Back then, we were treated like this for our act; this time? It’s all him.” Sersi said, giving a nod towards Percival.
They climbed through the city’s inner tiers, past artisan plazas and government halls, past shimmering pools filled with healing waters and glass gardens woven with magic-light. Higher and higher, until the palace itself rose above them like a crown placed upon the world.
They passed under an arch shaped like twin wings, and the guards flanking the final gate stepped aside without a word. Within was the Citadel of Albion—white marble, gold inlay, and air so still it felt sacred.
Sir Percival halted before a set of massive doors, their surface etched with the Tree of Avalon in full bloom.
“The King awaits,” he said. “I will announce you.”
Sprite gave Sersi a sideways glance. “What are the chances of us meeting an old friend here?”
“Pretty low, this is nothing like back then, even Percival isn’t the same.” She replied softly.
By this point, they were certain something was at play, they didn’t know what, but they had no doubts that the person they were about to meet, wasn’t the same Arthur they had met all those years ago.
-----
I knew as soon as they stepped foot within Camelot, while I muted the coming and going of humans, I didn’t do the same with anything too nonhuman, which was why I had the body of a Skrull spy added to my growing hoard of random stuff that may one day be useful.
Honestly, my inventory would be a mess if this were a video game.
I had long known that they were around, but had paid them little mind. They had their use, but they would achieve that without my input. Not to mention, any action involving them was decades away.
And I had much else needing my attention in this decade.
But when they came to Camelot, I couldn’t just ignore them; they were… special, noble in their own way.
I was half a mind to invite the nobles of Albion here and make a big event out of it. But in the end, I decided it was better to meet them in a more private setting.
And finally, the towering doors swung open with a low, echoing groan.
“Presenting,” Percival called, his voice resonating with trained force, “Sersi of Olympia—Lady of Transmutation, Weaver of Matter, Keeper of Civilizations—and Sprite of Eternal Flame, Trickster of Myths, Illusionist of Old, Teller of Tales that Shaped Empires.”
I looked at them from my spot at the throne, and their expression was beyond hilarious, they really hadn’t expected to be called out like that. Their reaction was so good I instantly regretted not making a big deal of it.
-----
Sersi blinked as the words echoed across the hall. Keeper of Civilizations? That was… unexpectedly accurate. And flattering.
Sprite nearly choked on air. Illusionist of Old? Shaped Empires? She elbowed Sersi lightly. “You hear that?” she whispered. “Finally, someone who appreciates the classics.”
“Quiet,” Sersi murmured, eyes locked ahead.
Because there, seated at the throne of Albion, was not the man they remembered. Not the young warlord of clashing iron and rain-soaked fields. Not the rough-edged leader who stumbled into kingship.
This was someone else entirely.
The figure on the throne was unmistakably female—regal and composed, clad in glimmering armor that shimmered with silver and midnight blue. A long white cloak fell behind her shoulders like moonlight poured into fabric.
Her golden hair framed a face both youthful and timeless, bearing the weight of centuries with grace. Her eyes were calm, but they watched with impossible depth. Like a god pretending not to be one.
Sersi’s lips parted slightly. She said nothing, but her thoughts spiraled. This isn’t Arthur… is it?
Sprite stared openly, mouth slightly ajar. Then, in a low whisper, she said the only thing she could think of: “Arthur got hot.”
Arthuria’s lips quirked upward in amusement. Clearly, she heard that.
-----
“You are too kind, Lady Sprite, though I admit, I too was once ageless like yourself, trapped as my fifteen-year-old self, neither a woman nor a girl, so I am quite pleased with having grown up.” I said, with a kind smile, but in truth, I also instantly placed the bait down.
I knew that Sprite hated the fact that she was stuck like that. Forever a child, unable to grow up, unable to experience things such as love, not in this age where grown men could hardly date a girl, and she wasn’t about to date a young boy.
She was resentful about her appearance.
She was willing to give up her immortality and power for a body that grew, for a chance to experience life.
And that, was what I now offered.
Sprite's eyes snapped wide. “Wait—you were like me?”
Her voice rang out louder than it should have in the echoing hall, sharp with disbelief and something else buried deeper. Hope, maybe.
“For far longer than I should have.” I said, and summoned forth Caliburn. The sword of selection instantly shone in my hand, leaving no doubt about its magical nature.
“Caliburn, when I pulled it from the stone, it froze my aging, gave me strength, health, but took away my future, ensuring that I could rule for a long time… not that I needed it.” I decided to share how I stayed young, keeping how I broke the curse a secret.
Not to mention all the other old stories, this was hardly the time to share them.
Sprite stared at the blade, her breath caught halfway to a question she couldn’t quite form. Her fingers twitched as if she wanted to reach for it—not to touch, but to understand. Her voice was lower now, almost reverent. “So you were like me. Stuck. Frozen in time.”
“Yes,” I said softly. “And I hated it.”
Sprite swallowed hard. There was something raw behind her eyes now. “Then how…?”
Sersi stepped in before the words could tumble free. Her hand touched Sprite’s shoulder, having to clamp down hard to keep her from running off and making a fool of herself. “That’s enough,” she said gently, though her own voice was tight with tension.
She turned her gaze to me, measured and sharp. “We greet you, king of Albion, but forgive my question, but who are you? You know of us, so you should know that we once met King Arthur, we worked with him… and you aren’t him.”
“I am Arthuria,” I said, voice as steady as the blade in my hand. “I was once called Arthur, I was once king of these lands, and am so again. I am… what could have been? Whatever you like to think, a different timeline of a parallel world, I am the one known as the king of knights.”
(End of chapter)
Here we are, I wanted to show off Camelot a bit, and I was thinking about having Sprite meet up with some local kids and see the city from their eyes, but I figured I would skip past that.
Next, we will have a little chat with the three of them, without all the thrones and kneeling and all that. Which should lead to Arthuria going to meet the other Eternals, at least some of them, as she seeks someone able to help her make the new element.
And while I’m sure it’s no secret that I have teased the idea of summoning other servants to do that… she has her reasons as to why she isn’t doing that.
But I won’t spoil too much.
But yeah, this is the first time I both wrote and edited a chapter in the same day, normally I was one or two chapters ahead, but no more!
So, I must admit, I’m raring to go and write the next one, but will eat something before then… and I did by the “new” Elder Scrolls game…
