Dawn crept over the horizon, spilling yellow across the hills. Arthur tightened the straps on his pack, checked the balance of his sword, and glanced at the familiar outline of the household in the valley below. The sight tugged at him —a mix of comfort and chains. He was leaving, but not forever.
Ector appeared at the gate, hands on his hips, the weight of quiet concern pressing down like armor. "You've trained well," he said simply. "Enough to survive. Not enough to conquer, but survival is the first lesson you need."
Arthur nodded. "I understand. I'll be careful."
"Careful isn't enough," Ector said, tone sharpened by experience. "You'll need instinct, timing, and a mind that can think faster than your body moves. And…" he hesitated, "…remember, you carry more than just a sword. You carry what you've learned, what you've survived. Don't squander that and you have...us."
Arthur swallowed. "I won't."
Kay appeared from the courtyard, holding a small pack. "Trying to get rid of me already?" he teased, though his grin carried a tinge of sadness and respect . "Don't think I'll let you have all the glory out there."
Arthur smirked, adjusting the sword at his hip. "You'll survive just fine here. Someone has to keep Sir Ector busy."
Kay laughed. "I'll send word if you don't come back in one piece."
From the shadows, Merlin— still the ever-watchful magician—appeared, hair glinting like silver in the rising sun. "Remember," he said, voice soft but cutting, "the world is bigger than our little wheat fields. People, dangers, opportunities—t hey will all test you. And some… will surprise you. Perhaps most of all yourself."
Arthur met his eyes. "I'm ready to be surprised."
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The first leg of his journey led down familiar paths, through forests he had known since childhood. But as the trees gave way to wild grasslands, the air shifted. Sounds of animals replaced the echoes of his home, the wind carried scents he didn't recognize. Each step felt heavier, each moment more real.
He practiced walking lightly, balancing the weight of his pack with the grace Ector had drilled into him. Every snap of a branch, every rustle in the underbrush made him alert, fingers brushing the hilt of his sword, heart ready to respond.
————±————±————±————
By midday, Arthur had encountered his first travelers —an old merchant and his donkey, struggling through a muddy path.
"Greetings," Arthur said politely, bowing slightly. "Can I be of help?"
The merchant looked up, eyes narrowing, but softened when he saw the boy's posture and confidence. "Well, lad, you have sharp eyes. Mind giving me a hand? The mud is thick, and my donkey is stubborn."
Arthur moved without hesitation, guiding the animal, steadying the cart. Sweat ran down his brow, but the satisfaction of helping, of moving beyond drills and fields, felt good and real.
"Thank you," the merchant said, patting his shoulder. "You've got the hands of someone who's seen work before. Or perhaps the discipline of a soldier?"
Arthur only smiled faintly. "A bit of both, sir."
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Even as he walked, he noticed the land changing. Villages appeared, distant smoke rising from chimneys, people moving with purpose. Each interaction, each observation, taught him something new— how markets ran, how guards handled disputes, how respect was earned without a sword.
Merlin's voice echoed in his mind, though the magician stayed behind the trees, unseen. Observe. Learn. Adapt.
Arthur shook his head. Not literally, but mentally, reminding himself to focus. This is a world I have yet to know and understand. But I will.
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By evening, Arthur found a small clearing near a stream. He set up a small simple camp, gathered firewood, and washed the day's dust from his hands. Hunger gnawed at him, but he welcomed it—the feeling of effort, of real exertion beyond training, was unfamiliar but invigorating.
He ate slowly, thinking of home, of Sir Ector and Kay, of the fields he had left behind. And somewhere beneath it all, the faint hum of something larger—a presence, a pulse, a quiet power—stirred in his veins.
Not fully understood, not yet controlled, but unmistakable.
Arthur pressed his palms together, resting his head. "Tomorrow," he whispered, "I go further. I see more. I… know."
Merlin stepped from the shadows, a faint smile on his face. "Good. One step at a time, Arthur. But remember—every step matters."
Arthur closed his eyes, exhaustion heavy but satisfying. The first day was over. But the journey, the adventure, had only just begun.