The grand corridors of the royal castle shimred in the golden light of the morning sun as Rael followed his father, the Duke, flanked by two castle guards.
The polished marble floors reflected their steps, the sound echoing faintly in the vast halls. Rael’s eyes darted around, taking in the lavish carvings and rich tapestries that adorned the castle walls. Despite his attempts to appear composed, the spark of curiosity in his gaze betrayed him.
As they approached their assigned guest quarters, an unexpected figure erged at the far end of the hallway—a tall, imposing man clad in ceremonial robes. His golden crown caught the light, casting a faint halo around his head. King Arthur Pendragon, the ruler of Calot, was striding toward them, his steps asured and purposeful. In his right hand, he carried the legendary sword, Excalibur. There was no sheathe. Just the sword.
Rael’s gaze locked onto the weapon instantly. The blade shimred faintly, not with the crude gleam of steel but with an inner radiance, an Artificial Arcana spirit forged by man and awakened a spirit on its own, the last of its kind. Or atleast, according to public knowledge.
"Your Majesty," the Duke said, bowing deeply. Rael followed suit, albeit hesitantly. He rarely bows to a person. But, it was the King and he had to do it.
Arthur’s sharp, discerning eyes rested on Rael for a mont. "Ah, this must be Azrael, the rookie champion of this year. I watched their battle from afar. So, both of them looked the sa to . Now that I see closer, I can indeed see the differences," the King said. His voice was calm, carrying the weight of command yet not devoid of warmth.
"Yes, Your Majesty," the Duke confird. "He is here to receive his promised reward."
Arthur’s gaze lingered on Rael as if asuring him. Finally, he spoke. "You have proven yourself in the tournant, young one. I trust you will continue to bring honor to your house."
Rael, still staring at Excalibur, barely nodded. The Duke cleared his throat softly, snapping his son back to attention.
"Forgive , Your Majesty," Rael said quickly. "It’s just... your sword. May I...?" He hesitated, unsure how to phrase his request.
Arthur raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. "Curious, are you? Very well. Few have ever held Excalibur, but I see no harm in letting you satisfy your curiosity. You are the son of my dear friend, after all." With a single motion, he held the sword out to Rael.
Rael’s hands moved almost instinctively, grasping the hilt of the sword. The mont his fingers closed around it, a strange sensation surged through him—a tug, almost like the pull of a current, drawing sothing from the sword into him. He froze, his eyes widening as the world seed to blur for a mont.
In his mindscape, the Reaper stood before the swirling hourglass, its skeletal form motionless. Before him, a new figure materialized—a regal knight clad in golden armor, his face obscured by a brilliant light.
"Excalibur," the Reaper greeted, its voice echoing with tiless resonance.
The knight knelt, bowing its head. "A Deity himself takes notice of this child," the spirit of Excalibur said, its voice rich and commanding. "I am honored to et you. However, I have no knowledge of how to address His Grace."
"You can call Tezca." The Reaper then tilted its head, the faintest hint of amusent in its tone. "Of all the Arcana spirits created by man, you are one of the few who were left alive as you managed to evolve into celestial grade and touched the secrets of the cosmos. Anyways, since you are here, tell , what do you think of this boy?"
Excalibur turned to face Rael’s spirit, who looked like he was frozen in his mindscape, too, as if the ti was frozen around. "Lord Tezca, I have only watched his battle once. So, I’m not sure what to make of it, but I can say that his body constitution is quite compatible with Death."
The Reaper let out a low chuckle. "Well, I must say I’m satisfied with the flattery. Considering this a fate, I intend to give you an opportunity."
Excalibur hesitated. "What do you an?"
The Reaper’s skeletal hand gestured toward Rael. "Naturalization. Beco a true Arcana spirit, bind yourself to King Arthur’s soul orb, and beco immortal forever. In return, all you must do is convince Arthur of one thing."
Excalibur’s radiant form flickered, intrigued. "And what would that be?" If a Deity is willing to transform him into a true Arcana spirit, aning even if he was destroyed, he would still be revived within Arthur’s mindscape; it ans there would be a hefty price to pay too. He was aware that a Deity would never do a favor. It was always transactional in order to keep balance in the universe.
"Your sibling," said the Reaper.
"Eh? My sibling?" Excalibur was taken aback.
As the connection ended, Rael’s vision cleared, coming out of his daze. He found himself standing in the hallway once more, Excalibur still in his hands. Arthur was watching him, his expression curious. While only a few seconds passed away, he felt like several minutes had passed.
"Well?" the King asked, bringing him out of his stupor. "What do you think of the sword?"
Rael handed it back carefully, his voice steady. "It’s... remarkable. It’s just my feeling, but I think I saw a glimpse of a Knight in the blade. Is it its spiritual form?"
Arthur smiled, unaware of the montous decision that had just been made. "Indeed, it is."
As Rael handed the Excalibur back to King Arthur, he noticed a flicker in the monarch’s expression—subtle but unmistakable. Arthur grasped the sword, and for a fleeting mont, his gaze turned distant, as though listening to a voice no one else could hear.
"Curious," Arthur muttered under his breath before his composure returned. He looked at Rael, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips. "It seems even Excalibur finds you intriguing. The fact that you managed to feel its spiritual form showed that your eyes are indeed as special as they seed."
Rael bowed slightly, his expression neutral. "Your words honor , Your Majesty."
Arthur didn’t reply imdiately, his grip tightening on Excalibur’s hilt. Whatever had just transpired between Arthur and his sword seed to weigh heavily on his thoughts. "For now, enjoy your stay in Calot. We will speak again soon."
With that, the king turned and continued down the corridor, his steps purposeful. Rael and the Duke exchanged a brief glance before following the guards to their quarters.
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