Chapter 14: Chapter Thirteen

Sir Edrick moved with purpose, his heavy boots crushing fallen leaves and twigs underfoot as he led them through the dense forest. His armor clinked softly with every step, a rhythmic reminder of the weight of duty he bore. He hadn't spoken much since announcing Gavin's claim to the throne, leaving a tense silence between them.

Felicity walked just behind him, her movements brisk and confident, as though she had always belonged here. Gavin, however, lagged behind, his mind spiraling with thoughts that refused to settle.

Your Highness.

The words felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else.

He glanced down at the amulet in his hand, its purple glow now extinguished, yet somehow heavier than ever. It had pulled him across time, had responded to him, had—what? Declared him worthy? He scoffed under his breath. Prince Arthur. Right. Because that made perfect sense.

The guy who barely scraped through college. The guy who spent his evenings at a medieval-themed restaurant playing at being a knight for cheap applause. The guy who had needed Felicity to save him more times than he could count.

He wasn't a prince. He wasn't a warrior.

And yet... the amulet had chosen him.

The trials had tested him.

And now, a legendary knight of Camelot was leading him toward a kingdom that supposedly belonged to him.

Gavin exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his already-messy hair. His gaze flickered to Felicity. She hadn't said much since they left the clearing, but she kept stealing glances at him, as if she could sense the storm raging inside his head.

After a few more minutes, she finally fell back to walk beside him. "You're quiet."

Gavin let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, well, I just found out I'm apparently a long-lost prince who's supposed to save a kingdom. Forgive me if I'm having a little existential crisis."

She smirked but didn't press him. Instead, she nodded toward the amulet in his hand. "You don't believe it, do you?"

He clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the pendant. "Would you?"

She gave him a long look before answering. "I think fate has a funny way of working. And I think the amulet wouldn't have chosen just anyone."

Gavin scoffed. "Yeah, well, fate picked the wrong guy."

Felicity stopped walking, forcing him to halt too. Sir Edrick continued ahead, seemingly unconcerned by their delay.

She turned to face him fully, crossing her arms. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Doubting yourself."

He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. "Because, Felicity, I am not a king. I don't know how to lead an army. I don't know how to rule a kingdom. I barely even know how to take care of myself." His voice lowered, the weight of everything pressing harder against his chest. "I don't know how to be him."

Felicity studied him for a moment, her emerald eyes searching his face. Then, to his surprise, she reached out and placed a hand over his. The warmth of her touch stilled some of the chaos in his mind.

"You don't have to be him," she said softly. "You just have to be you."

His throat tightened. He wanted to believe her. He really did.

But believing meant accepting that this was real.

And if it was real, then everything that came next would be real, too.

Before he could say anything, Sir Edrick's voice cut through the quiet. "We're here."

Gavin and Felicity turned toward him.

Just beyond the last line of trees, nestled in the valley below, was Camelot. And the weight of his destiny had never felt heavier.

"This has to be a mistake," he muttered under his breath, the words mostly for himself. His steps felt uneven, his legs still shaky from the time-traveling experience. The world around him felt both dreamlike and painfully real. The air was crisp and fresh, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers and burning wood. Birds sang unfamiliar songs from the trees, and the sunlight filtering through the canopy seemed warmer, almost golden.

Gavin stood frozen at the edge of the forest, the weight of reality sinking into his bones. Whatever joke he'd been about to make withered on his tongue as he took in the sight before him.

Camelot.

It wasn't just a collection of ruins or a storybook fantasy. It was real. It was alive.

The village sprawled across the valley, a patchwork of stone cottages with thatched roofs lining the winding cobblestone streets. Wooden carts bustled along the pathways, piled high with fresh produce, bolts of fabric, and barrels of ale. Vendors called out their wares, their voices carrying over the lively chatter of the townspeople.

Children darted between stalls, their laughter ringing through the air, while blacksmiths hammered away at their forges, sending sparks flying like fireflies in the dimming afternoon light. Somewhere, a minstrel strummed a lute, his melody weaving into the hum of the village's heartbeat.

And towering above it all, dominating the skyline, stood Camelot's castle—an awe-inspiring fortress of pale stone, its towers stretching toward the sky like fingers grasping at the clouds. Banners of deep crimson and gold snapped in the breeze, each one emblazoned with the symbol of the royal family: a lion rampant, noble and fierce.

It was like stepping into a dream—or someone else's life.

Gavin swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the strap of his duffle bag.

Felicity watched him carefully, her green eyes filled with understanding. He was no longer a skeptical outsider staring at an impossible fantasy.

He was standing in his kingdom.

Sir Edrick turned to him, his expression unreadable. "This is the realm you were born to protect, Your Highness." He gestured toward the bustling streets. "These are your people."

Gavin barely registered the words. His heart pounded as he let his gaze sweep over the village again. His people? The ones who had no idea he even existed? Who had lived their lives believing their prince was long dead?

What if he wasn't what they needed?

What if he failed them?

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to take a step forward. Then another. The cobblestones were solid beneath his boots, grounding him. He wasn't in a dream.

He was here.

He was home.

"Whoa," Gavin breathed, stopping in his tracks.

Felicity slowed, turning to face him. Her expression softened as she watched him take it all in. "You've seen this before," she said gently. "Haven't you?"

Gavin shook his head, but the words caught in his throat. He had seen it before—in dreams he'd never understood, in flashes of memory that felt like they belonged to someone else. The image of the castle, the laughter of the villagers—it all stirred something deep within him, something he couldn't explain.

"Not really," he said finally, his voice shaky. "This is just... déjà vu. That's all."

Felicity didn't push him, though the look in her eyes said she didn't believe him. She turned back toward the knight, who had stopped and was waiting patiently. "We should keep moving," she said. "The sooner we get to the castle, the better."

As they made their way into the village, Gavin felt the weight of countless eyes on him. Villagers stopped what they were doing to watch him pass, their gazes filled with curiosity, awe, and—he couldn't believe it—recognition. Whispers spread like wildfire, soft murmurs floating through the air.

"Could it be?"

"The prince has returned!"

"He looks just like the queen."

Gavin's stomach twisted as the words reached his ears. He kept his head down, trying to block out the stares and whispers, but it was impossible to ignore the way the villagers' expressions shifted—from surprise to joy to something almost respectful.

A small boy tugged on his mother's skirt, pointing at Gavin with wide, excited eyes. "Is it really him, Mama?"

The mother knelt beside her son, her gaze fixed on Gavin as she nodded. "Yes, my dear. That's Prince Arthur."

Gavin froze, his breath hitching. He turned to Felicity, his voice a strained whisper. "This isn't happening."

"It is," she said, her tone firm but kind. "And you're handling it better than I thought you would."

"Better?" he hissed. "I'm barely holding it together. Everyone's staring at me like I'm some kind of savior. What if they're wrong? What if I can't do this?"

Felicity placed a hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Gavin, listen to me," she said, her green eyes locking onto his. "You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to have all the answers right now. But these people need hope—and whether you believe it or not, you've already given them that just by being here."

He stared at her, his chest tight. The weight of her words—and the weight of the villagers' expectations—pressed down on him like a boulder. But before he could respond, the knight cleared his throat.

"We're nearly there." The knight gestured ahead. "Merlin will want to see you before the King summons you to the castle."

He swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest. Part of him wanted to run in the opposite direction, to escape the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to swallow him whole. But another part—a smaller, quieter part—wanted to see the famous wizard he'd only read about in fictional books, if only to understand the truth about who he was.

The castle loomed larger as they approached, its gates open and its towers casting long shadows across the village. Gavin took a deep breath, forcing himself to keep moving. Whatever was waiting for him inside, he would face it.

Even if he wasn't ready.

* * * *

The winding path to Merlin's hidden sanctuary twisted through a dense forest, its ancient trees standing like silent sentinels, their gnarled branches intertwining overhead to form a thick, shadowy canopy. Only the occasional sliver of sunlight managed to pierce through, casting shifting patterns of gold and green onto the damp earth below. The air was thick with the scent of moss and damp leaves, mingled with the faint, lingering aroma of something almost electric—magic.

Gavin walked beside Felicity, his steps steady but his gaze restless, darting between the deep pockets of shadow stretching between the towering trunks. He wasn't sure what he expected—wolves, bandits, another shadow agent lurking in the darkness—but the eerie quiet set his nerves on edge.

The only sounds were the rhythmic crunch of their boots against the damp forest floor and the occasional rustling of unseen creatures scurrying in the underbrush.

He glanced at Felicity who was looking at the amulet that now hung from Gavin's neck. The once-glowing runes had faded into dull etchings, but its presence was still unmistakable, a tangible weight against his chest. A symbol of who he was. A destiny he had yet to fully accept.

She slowed her pace slightly, brushing her fingers against his arm. "Gavin," she said softly, her voice carrying easily in the quiet.

He gave her a smile. "Yes?"

"You don't have to carry it all at once," she said, nodding toward the amulet. "Or the weight of who you are."

A dry chuckle escaped him. "Yeah? Tell that to Sir Edrick."

She smiled, shaking her head. "Edrick believes in the prince. I believe in the person."

For the first time since they entered the forest, some of the tension in his shoulders eased.

"How much farther is this place?" Gavin asked, his voice low.

"Not far," Felicity replied. She kept the wand in her hand, her fingers gripping it tightly, ready at any moment to use it as she scanned the woods with wary eyes. "Merlin's sanctuary is hidden, protected by magic. We're close, but I don't like how quiet it is."

"Quiet is good, isn't it?" Gavin's voice betrayed his unease.

"Not when shadow agents are involved," the knight answered in a mutter.

Gavin glanced over his shoulder, suddenly more alert than he had been earlier. She was more used to the agents than he was, but they even frightened her. Hopefully, her grandfather would know how to put a stop to them and make them disappear forever.

"You think they're tracking us?" he asked.

"They're always tracking us," Felicity said. "But Merlin's magic should mask us once we get to the sanctuary. We just have to—"

She stopped abruptly, holding out an arm to block Gavin's path. He nearly stumbled into her, but stopped.

"What is it?" he whispered.

Felicity didn't answer right away. Her eyes were locked on the path ahead, her body tense. The faint hum of magic radiated from her wand, the runes along its surface glowing softly.

"Something's wrong," she said, her voice barely audible. "Do you feel that?"

Gavin frowned. "Feel what?"

"The air." She moved her gaze to the surrounding trees. "It's always thicker... heavier whenever the agents are near."

"I think I feel it," he whispered. "The air around me feels oppressive, like a weight pressing down on my chest."

"Yes." The faint rustle of leaves in the breeze had vanished, replaced by an eerie silence that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "We need to move," Felicity said sharply, grabbing his arm. "Quickly."

Before they could take another step, the shadows around them began to shift. At first, it was subtle—just the faint flicker of movement at the edges of their vision. But then the shadows deepened, dark tendrils creeping across the forest floor like living smoke.

"Felicity..." Gavin started, his voice tight.

"Stay close to me," she said, her grip on his arm tightening.

Sir Edrick drew his sword, the steel glinting in the dim light as he stepped forward, bracing for battle. The air around them thickened, the temperature dropping as an unnatural hush fell over the forest.

Then, the first shadow agent slithered from the trees.

Its body was impossibly tall and thin, its elongated limbs stretching and twisting like tattered ribbons caught in an unseen wind. Darkness clung to its form, shifting and undulating as though it was made of living smoke. Its glowing orange eyes burned like dying embers, locking onto Gavin with an unsettling intensity.

A low, guttural hiss slithered from its featureless face—a sound that didn't belong in this world.

Then came another.

And another.

They poured from the shadows like ink bleeding into water, their movements fluid yet wrong—jerking, twitching, unfolding in ways that defied human anatomy. Their claw-like fingers flexed, elongated, curling as if tasting the air.

They didn't walk. They didn't run.

They glided.

Circling.

Trapping them.

Cutting off every possible escape.

The trees around them seemed to lean in closer, their gnarled branches twisting like skeletal fingers reaching toward the sky. The ground beneath them pulsed faintly, shadows stretching unnaturally long, moving even when there was no light to cast them.

The agents did not speak.

They only watched.

Waiting.

Gavin fisted his hands, his breath unsteady.

Sir Edrick shifted beside him, voice steady but low. "Whatever you do... don't let them touch you."

"Why do they always have to be so creepy?" Gavin muttered, his voice shaking.

Felicity raised her wand, the golden runes flaring brighter. "They're trying to intimidate us," she said, her voice steady despite the tension in her posture. "Don't let them see your fear."

"Easier said than done," Gavin said, backing up until his shoulders bumped against hers.

The lead shadow agent stepped closer, its movements slow and deliberate. The tendrils of darkness trailing from its body reached out, curling toward Gavin like grasping fingers.

The knight speared his sword through the shadow, but just as Felicity assumed, the effort was wasted.

"Stay behind me, Gavin," Felicity ordered, stepping forward and raising her wand higher.

"No way," Gavin said, though his voice cracked. "I'm not leaving you alone to deal with these thugs like this."

"You're not leaving," she snapped. "You're protecting the amulet. If they get their hands on it, everything we've done will be for naught."

Before Gavin could even think to argue, the lead shadow agent lunged. Its limbs stretched toward them, twisting and writhing like living smoke, its clawed fingers elongated into razor-sharp tendrils. The air itself seemed to shudder at its movement, a faint crackling noise vibrating through the clearing like static.

Felicity reacted instantly. She thrust her wand forward, her voice ringing with authority as she shouted an incantation.

A burst of golden light erupted from the tip, slicing through the darkness like a blade. The blast slammed into the agent's chest, sending it reeling backward with a guttural, unnatural screech. Its body rippled and distorted, as though fighting to keep its shape, before it stumbled into the shadows.

The other agents hissed in unison, their burning orange eyes narrowing with something like fury. Their bodies wavered and pulsed, like an oil slick shifting beneath moonlight.

Then they surged forward.

A tangle of writhing darkness lunged for them all at once, their limbs stretching out in impossible angles, moving faster than anything that should exist in this world.

Felicity whirled, her auburn hair whipping around her shoulders as she unleashed another spell. A wave of shimmering energy exploded outward, crackling through the air in an arc of pure force.

The spell rippled through the clearing, forcing the agents to recoil. Their bodies flickered like flames caught in a storm, their forms momentarily unstable as they staggered back. But their retreat was short-lived.

They weren't gone.

They were waiting.

Regrouping.

Their hissing turned to a low, grating whisper, a chorus of unintelligible words that crawled into Gavin's ears, into his head. His vision blurred for a split second, his grip on reality faltering.

Felicity grabbed his arm, shaking him. "Gavin! Stay with me!"

He blinked hard, shoving away the eerie sensation slithering into his thoughts. His pulse pounded as he refocused on the advancing figures.

Sir Edrick didn't wait for another attack. He charged, his sword cutting through the shadows, his battle cry breaking through the ominous whispers.

This was it.

Their only chance was to fight.

"Gavin, move!" she shouted, her voice strained.

Felicity stood her ground, her wand glowing brighter with each spell she cast, but the strain was making her weaker.

"They're too many!" she said. "I can't hold them off forever!"

"What do we do?" Gavin yelled.

Before she could answer, one of the agents darted around her spell, its tendrils reaching for Gavin. He ducked instinctively, grabbing a fallen branch from the ground and swinging it wildly. The branch passed through the agent's form, but the effort sent it back a step, its hissing intensifying.

"Not bad, Your Highness," Felicity said, a flicker of amusement in her voice despite the chaos.

"Yeah, real knightly," Gavin muttered, his grip on the branch tightening.

Although Sir Edrick fought the best he could, the agents had the upper hand... or energy, since they didn't have body parts. And soon, the knight crumbled to the ground, unmoving.

The agents pressed forward again, their movements more coordinated, more relentless. Gavin and Felicity were being pushed back toward the edge of the clearing, and the sanctuary they sought felt farther away than ever.

"Felicity! Look out!" Gavin shouted.

She spun, her wand slashing through the air as she released another spell. The agent lunging for her dissolved into smoke with a screech, but the effort left her breathing hard, her movements slowing.

"This isn't working," she said, her voice strained. "We need to—"

"We need to get out of here." Gavin grabbed her hand and pulled her as he dashed deeper into the forest.

She tried keeping up with him, but her steps faltered too much. He wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her, not missing a beat in the rhythm his feet hit the ground. She felt limp and useless—much like he was feeling now.