[Chapter 3: The Start of a Legend 3]
Indeed, it was quite a while later until the situation was fully explained to the confused knight. The sword was sheathed and lay on top of the coffee table between the shopkeepers and the knight.
Excalibur, the sword, was actually sentient with unknown origins as to where she came from or how she came to be.
Mostly because she didn’t agree to just tell anyone she didn’t think deserving to know but what the shopkeepers do know was that she picks out those who she sees were worthy of wielding her.
It was said that it was once considered a legendary sword that slew thousands of great evils and only those who she chose could use the power sealed inside.
“Of course I don’t know if that’s actually true.” The purple-eyed person said, leaning back on the couch (Though, it fascinated Arthur so much. He’s never seen or sat in a chair as comfy and warm as this one). In fact, the shop was so different and odd-looking than those he’d visited and he can tell that this one was the one that stood out the most. It’s as if they came from a different timescape and wasn’t that a funny thought?
“’Cause I just found her under a lake with a note, I’m guessing made of magic or something, explaining the basic of what she is.”
The other shopkeeper looked at their companion with a raised brow, arms crossed. “How come I’ve never heard of this?”
“You were in a coma that time.”
“Ah, right...” They paused, blinking. “I forgot about that.”
By the time they had finished clearing up why the sword was so adamant in stabbing Arthur earlier, it was already dark outside. Looks like they spent quite a bit of time talking.
“She’ll most likely talk to you later once she regains her energy.” The purple-eyed shopkeeper told him. “Don’t worry about her trying to stab you again. She was probably just trying to get to you. Guess she slept for too long she forgot how to limit her powers.”
Looking at the sword in his hand, Arthur couldn’t help but feel awe. In a rare case of gentleness, his voice was soft and small as he opened his mouth, “And you’re just going gifting me such a wonderful gift?”
The shopkeeper grinned and nodded.
Arthur beamed and stood up. “I’LL NEVER FORGET SUCH KINDNESS, HUMBLE SHOPKEEPERS!” He looked at the two of them. “MAY I ASK FOR YOUR NAMES?”
A simple question made the two shop owners raise a brow at each other. The purple-eyed companion shrugged their shoulder.
“Though, the Boss said we can’t share our name because of confidentiality reasons,” They started and turned to Arthur. “You can call me Number 1.” They pointed at the printed number that took up the space of their front hoodie.
Arthur’s eyes lighted up in understanding and he looked at the other shopkeeper’s number on their vest. “THEN YOU MUST BE NUMBER 9?”
Number 9 nodded, the corner of their eyes crinkling in amusement as they patted the stitched number on their vest.
Now that he knew they were going by number, Arthur wondered how many they were and tilted his head in curiosity. “May I ask how many of you there are?”
“Twelve.” Number 9 answered. “Numbered alphabetically using our first names.” Number 1 muttered in a low voice but not low enough for Arthur to not hear, “Who has last names these days?”
Arthur then jumped, remembering that he hadn’t introduced himself yet and realized that he was being rude for asking for Number 1 and Number 9’s names without even telling his own name.
“ARTHUR,” he exclaimed, making the two shop owners jump at the sudden loud voice. “MY NAME IS ARTHUR ALEXANDER MERLIN THE 3RD, ADVENTURING WITH MY GROUP OF FRIENDS ACROSS THE KINGDOMS!”
He smiled, offering out his hands to them which the two took and shook with a firm grip.
It was a successful day of business, it seemed.
