Cornwall wore a tired expression that day, as if the skies themselves harbored a secret joke. Grey mists clung to the cobblestones while a distant storm teased trouble on the horizon. It was the kind of weather that made even the bravest knights mutter prayers to gods they barely remembered.

In the heart of Pendragon territory, every footstep seemed to hum with unspoken power as Albion, Adele, and Winston made their way toward the Citadel, where the legendary Roundtable awaited. Each step Albion took carried the weight of history, yet today the air held an indefinable shift—a promise that the future might be born of youth.

Passing through a bustling square, Albion's attention was captured by a pair of midteens—barely sixteen—whose laughter rang out like a challenge to the brooding skies. One, a girl with wild, golden hair and mischievous, silvercast eyes, playfully elbowed a boy with unruly raven locks and azure eyes. Though his clothes were simple, the faint gleam of blue steel at his hip hinted at secrets. Their banter sparked an energy that stirred memories of Albion's own youth.

Albion's gaze lingered a moment longer. There was a hum to that blade—not seen, but felt—the quiet thrum of something ancient, half-forgotten, half-awake.

"Allegra! Cut it out already!" the boy chided with a cheeky grin as he lightly nudged her.

"Don't be absurd, Theo," Allegra shot back, rolling her eyes. "You know I can outpace you any day—and I'd wager you're just too slow to keep up."

Theo rolled his eyes. "Outpace me? You trip over your own ego half the time." Allegra mock-gasped. "And you spend half your life chasing after it like a lovesick puppy."

Theo laughed, the sound bright against the backdrop of the storm. "Maybe, but remember how I saved you from that overzealous guard at the gate—and even managed to snag breakfast while I was at it."

Theo's grin reminded Albion of a younger version of himself—before Excalibur, before the crown of expectations.

A soft chuckle escaped Albion. Their repartee held an uncanny familiarity—a mirror of legends long past. Adele leaned in, curious. "What has caught your eye?"

Pointing discreetly toward the pair, Albion murmured, "There's something about them… a glimmer of destiny I can't ignore." At that moment, Theo's clear blue eyes widened as he noticed Albion watching. With a conspiratorial nudge to Allegra, he whispered, "Hey, isn't that the famed sword-bearer everyone's been talking about?"

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Allegra's dark gaze swept over Albion, pausing as it landed on the faint, magical runes along his forearm. "Excalibur," she breathed, as if uttering a sacred incantation. "It has to be him."

Before Albion could reply, the duo hustled over—Theo leading with bold enthusiasm. "You're the magic sword guy, aren't you? What's it really like to be the hero of legends?" he asked, his grin hinting at a destiny far beyond their playful squabbles.

Albion raised an eyebrow, amusement softening his tone. "I wouldn't call it heroics—just doing what fate insists upon."

Allegra added with a teasing smile, "Every hero seems to say that."

With a measured air, Albion shifted the focus. "And what are your names, young warriors? It's not every day I meet such spirited champions."

Theo's chest puffed with pride as he introduced himself, "Lot Theodore—Theo to those who matter. And this is Allegra, my partner in mischief, madness, and destiny."

Allegra offered a knowing smile and a playful shake of her head. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Theo. There's more to our path than pride and fancy swords."

Albion's gaze softened as he regarded them. "There's more to power than the glimmer of steel or the allure of magic. True strength lies in knowing why you fight—protecting what matters, even when the odds conspire against you." He saw not just the future of Avalon, but a reflection of what it could yet become—if only they held on to their fire when the world began to demand their silence.

Theo's eyes shone with determination as he leaned forward. "So, what's your 'why', sir?"

After a thoughtful pause and a subtle nod from Adele, Albion's voice turned low and sincere. "I fight to guard our home—from not only the encroaching Empire but also from the creeping despair that shadows every heart. Avalon isn't merely a legend; it's the promise of tomorrow. Every choice we make writes that promise."

The two youths absorbed his words, the moment heavy with silent understanding. Then, with a spirited nod, Theo declared, "Then we'll stand by you. One day, our blades will speak our truth." For a fleeting second, Albion thought he heard echoes—not from the square, but from another life. A boy once promised the same thing, and the world had listened.

Crouching to meet Theo's earnest gaze, Albion ruffled his hair gently. "Remember this, kid: a warrior's strength isn't measured by his sword, but by the cause that sets his heart ablaze. Hold that close, and you'll surpass even the wildest tales."

Allegra's gaze lingered on the faint runes flickering along Theo's sword—a look that spoke of secrets too deep to share just yet. "Perhaps one day, we'll prove that destiny is more than just a whispered rumor."

Adele stepped forward with a blend of caution and humor. "Stay sharp, you two. In Cornwall, legends walk—and so do the monsters they forgot to write down."

"We know our way around those," Allegra replied, her eyes bright with quiet resolve.

Winston clapped Albion on the back. "Looks like you're not just a hero—you're a mentor now."

Albion chuckled. "Let's hope they don't take after me too much."

"Some of us aren't ready to be seen just yet," she said, half to Theo, half to herself.

With that, the small band resumed their journey toward the storied Roundtable. The two spirited youths lingered, their eyes alight with dreams larger than the brooding skies. As Albion's form receded, Theo mused softly, "Do you think he truly sees what we're meant to be?"

Allegra's smile sharpened, a flash of steel beneath velvet. "He'll know. Avalon will make sure of it."

Unseen atop a shadowed balcony, a cloaked figure watched them go. Their hair, like wildfire, caught the last kiss of sunlight—yet their smile never touched their eyes.

Above, the storm began to break, and sunlight timidly filtered through the grey—a fragile promise that destiny's tapestry was being woven anew. The Pendragon Keep loomed in the distance, a steadfast beacon as the children of Avalon prepared to claim their part in the legend yet unwritten.

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