[Number 1 and Number 9]
Once the blond knight left the shop with his ‘purchase’ after being asked to write his name and the place of his world called, the two shopkeepers looked at each other in silence.
This went on for a few moments before the two broke out into peals of laughter.
“Well, that seemed like a successful sell for the first day of the opening.” Number 1 said chuckling as they putting the two halves of the book they borrowed from Dent on the coffee table. “What do you think, Number 9?”
Number 9 snickered, replying: “Could’ve been worse.”
“Don’t jinx it.” Number 1 punched them on the shoulder playfully.
The two once again descended into silence.
“By the way, I’ve been wondering for a while now.” Number 1 started again with a curious lilt in their voice.
“About?”
“Didn’t you say Excalibur found you worthy? Why’d you pass up the chance to use her powers?”
“Hah! Are you kidding me?” Number 9 laughed and shook their head while making gestures. “We’d keep fighting if I did! Did you know that the moment she talked to me, she actually demanded me to go out and find something to slay? Demanded me!”
Number 1 looked amused by this. “Really?”
“Yeah! And besides, I have a feeling that those two could learn a thing or two from each other. The knight’s too trusting and Excalibur’s too guarded. It could be a lot good for both of them.”
“Hm... But what if they clash instead?”
“Heh, they won’t.” Number 9 tapped their head, leaning forward. “Call it a swordsman’s intuition.” They paused for a moment before sighing. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I kinda miss her already, Excalibur. She was demanding, yes, but she did try to motivate me to doing my best.”
Number 1 scratched the back of their head. “You don’t have to worry about anything ‘cause at least she’s in right hands now. To a person she picked, even.”
Number 9 chuckled, nodding. They let their gaze move over to the clock on the wall and immediately jumped up.
“Oh shoot! I almost forgot I needed to meet up with my---!”
The two jumped in surprise as a sharp, piercing sound rung in the air. Number 1 looked at Number 9 with an eyebrow raised with the other mirroring their expression.
“Confidentiality, remember?”
Number 9 nodded, “Right, right, we had that,” they said and paused. “Then I need to go out and meet up with my... sibling. You okay being alone here?”
Number 1 shrugged. “Managing a shop alone? Mmmm, no, not exactly but the others still have things to do and you need to go do your own thing, too, which leaves me, who has nothing to do, here.” They gestured to themselves. “I can close the shop down for the time being. So go meet up your twin.”
Number 9 nodded and went over to the rack next to the door behind the counter. They took their red scarf from the hook and wrapped it around their neck before waving Number 1 goodbye.
The silence was heavy and deafening.
Number 1 sighed, shoulders slumping as they headed over to the front door and locked it. Number 1 ran a hand through their messy, black hair and sighed again.
As they stood in the shop in silence, they seemed to have remembered something and looked at the book—or at least the two halves of it—at the coffee table and paled.
“Ah fuck me,” They cursed. “Dent’s gonna kill me.”
[The Legend]
Legends are created from stories of bravery, of glory, of forged alliances and friendships and passed from one person to another.
A legend among others stood out from the rest that people liked to tell stories of again and again.
It was the legend of a heroic knight named King Arthur who had golden blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes, with the help of their mighty group of knights which the people had taken to call as ‘The Knights of the Round Table’, defeating evil and spreading prosperity, freedom, and wealth all throughout the lands.
Though, no one knew how it came to be, the people thought the title was majestic and truly befitting of the group.
However, for the so called ‘Knights of the Round Table’, it was embarrassing.
The only reason they were called that was because they were celebrating Arthur’s coronation on becoming the King of Camelot after finding out his true heritage of being the heir of the Pendragon line. The result was them sitting around a huge round table, as drunk as they can possibly get, with everyone threatening to fight each other.
The threats escalated to full-blown physical fights which ended in Bedivere being defenestrated (luckily he landed on a bush) by Percival, Lancelot trying to fight anyone who he saw (he mistook an armor stand for a person and tried to fight it but ended up knocking himself out), Gawain trying to protect Arthur with Gareth trying to calm him down (because he was interrogating a frightened barmaid who had no idea what was happening), Bors, along with Tristan, still continued on drinking and trying to outdrink each other (they were the ones who had massive headaches the next day, unsuprisingly), Lamorak and Gaheris were already unconscious on the floor (they tried to punch each other earlier in the fight but only ended up stumbling down the ground and falling asleep), Geraint who looked unamused as he watched the others fell one after another with a book in his hand, and Galahad who was laughing at the others’ misfortunes.
Arthur was draped across the table, unconscious.
Though, they had no idea how the people managed to make such a heroic sounding title for their group by them being drunk, they rather never speak of how the origins of the title came to be.
As for Arthur, people wondered how he had gotten Excalibur. Some people asked the hero himself where the sword came from and although he gave his answer, no one believed him when he said that it was given to him. Who would just give a sword as powerful as that for free?!
Theories started popping up and the two most well received theory was that it was given to him by the ‘Lady of the Lake’ because it deemed him worthy.
The other one was that he pulled it out of a stone with ease when no one, even the strongest and burliest people, could.
It never rusted, never broke, and witnesses even spoke of seeing immeasurable power coming from the sword itself. Even when they tried to look for the mysterious shop Arthur had described he stumbled upon on in the city of Remkat, no one could find it and the story itself became a myth.
And as for Arthur himself? He changed, in a good way. His loud, piercing voice became softer and small that made him even more approachable to others if he wasn’t already. He learned to rein his curiosity in and assess a situation in a more logical way which saved him and his group’s life more times than he can count on his hand. His naiveté and trusting attitude was still there but it lessened considerably enough for him to learn determining if someone or something was dangerous to him or his loved ones.
Although he came a long way from where he was back then, his story still wasn’t finished. Maybe one day, he’d visit the place where his legend started and tell them the stories of his journey along with his friends but for now? He’s got a kingdom to run.
