Aliases: The Once Kingdom, The Court of the Bear
I lived there. Grew up there really. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t golden. But it was ours. It was real.
The stones were rough, not smooth. The halls were cold in winter. But the people were warm. The stories. The way Merlin believed we could build something different.
He called it an experiment. An anchor point between magic and mortal. A place where maybe peace could last long enough to mean something.
Arthur believed him. I did too.
I went to school there. Learned languages and spells and history; how to read the currents of the world. Merlin taught me how to listen.
The Round Table wasn’t magic. Not at first. But it became more because we needed it to be. Because we believed in what it could be.
When things started cracking, they came fast. People left. Factions formed.
And then Merlin left too. He never came back. Disappeared. After Arthur fell.
I haven’t been back since. But I dream of the old halls sometimes.
