[Back to Mordred]
"Just amazing."
Peeking over my magazine, I noticed an excited smile on Morgan's face.
"This is the first time someone beat me in Gos," she said, looking at Alisax in awe.
They were playing a game that I had seen many engage in on the Shield.
The Game of Shadows.
A turn-based strategy game fought upon a sleek board depicting a battlefield.
Sixty-four black and white squares stretched across its surface, separated by thin silver borders that pulsed softly with Ardor.
Polished black and white pieces remained frozen in their final positions.
Neither player reached toward the board, not even touching the pieces to move them, for once a match begins, the pieces move according to the will and ardor of the player.
Each player has a total of sixteen pieces.
A Queen that can move anywhere and overwhelm entire fronts.
Coders that cut diagonally across the board, severing enemy formations.
Spikers that barrel straight into enemy pieces.
Linkers that leap in impossible L-shaped patterns to strike from unexpected angles.
Before them stood eight hooded Shadows.
And all of these pieces answered to the King.
It is a commander, capable of moving anywhere on the board like the queen, but can only advance a single square at a time.
Despite its limited movement, it is the one with the most authority and hence the most important.
Morgan leaned on her arm, resting her chin in her palm.
"You crossed the Veil on the tenth turn."
Alisax tilted her head with an amused smile. "I did."
"I knew it was quite suspicious." Morgan narrowed her eyes, surveying the board.
She sighed. "And I realized that too late."
"A Shadow sunk into the board is far more deadly than one visible upon it."
My eyes drifted to the pieces frozen in their final positions, to Morgan's King cornered by Alisax's Spiker, all the Shadows devoured by the latter's pieces.
Alisax's move back then was an interesting choice.
Most players preferred sinking their Shadows near the center of the board, where a hidden shadow can do a lot.
Almost on cue, the smooth surface of an empty square rippled, and a Shadow emerged before standing motionless on the board.
Then, the square rippled, and the hooded piece sank back into the board.
Entering the Veil.
That mechanic made Gos a unique strategy game.
A poor descent into the board could spell disaster for a player.
Once a Shadow enters the Veil, it becomes bound to that square for the remainder of the game.
A hidden Shadow threatened every surrounding square without revealing itself.
Experienced players often responded by placing one of their own pieces above the hidden Shadow, sealing it beneath the battlefield and denying it freedom of movement.
One of the oldest counters in Gos.
Morgan's gaze returned to the pieces frozen in their final positions before looking at Alisax.
"I expected you to bring back your Queen."
Only then did the true purpose of a Shadow become clear.
A hidden Shadow could return to the battlefield by taking the form of any allied piece that had already fallen.
Alisax smiled.
"I could've brought back my Queen, but I felt a Spiker was better suited for the situation."
Morgan laughed.
I've never heard her laugh like that. It's quite pleasant but also quite out of place for someone like her.
"That caught me off guard."
My eyes shifted to Alisax's King, remaining in its original spot.
Her king never entered the battle.
It did not need to.
"Clever move," Morgan admitted with a glint in her eye.
"You distracted me by using the King's authority to mobilize and sacrifice a Shadow to protect a Linker, while ensuring the freedom of one of your trapped Shadows so that it can turn into the fateful Spiker."
Alisax nodded. "Indeed."
"A clever use of Royal Command."
Leaning back, Morgan added.
"Even if I hadn't taken the sacrificial Shadow, it could've entered the Veil and returned as a Queen."
"A good prediction," Alisax replied with a nod.
"You anticipated my intentions. Taking out that Shadow was a good move."
"But that led to your defeat," I said, finally realizing the trap Alisax had laid for my sister.
Morgan's ruby-like eyes regarded me with calm amusement.
"You're quite pleased to witness my failure."
"It is a rare sight, Morgan," I admitted, "One that I should relish."
My gaze shifted to Alisax, who silently watched our exchange with a curious smile.
"Alisax used her Shadows well," I said. "She realized it was the only way to beat you in the Game of Shadows."
"I agree."
Alisax inclined her head toward Morgan. "You are a formidable opponent, Your Highness."
Morgan chuckled. "Speak for yourself, Lady Alisax."
"As I said earlier… you're the only one who has ever beaten me in Gos."
"Forgive me if this seemed offensive." She tilted her head. "But do daemons play this game as well?"
Alisax picked a piece off the board and stared at it for a moment, a melancholic smile playing upon her lips.
"Alexander introduced us to this game…" she recalled fondly. "He carved the board and pieces himself."
Her thumb gently brushed across the polished surface of the piece.
"Back then, they were little more than carved wood. Nothing as advanced as yours. We had to move every piece by hand."
A quiet chuckle escaped her.
"That was when I discovered I was rather good at this game."
"Alexander Zierhart," Morgan spoke the name with the reverence it deserved.
A knowing smile touched her lips as she noticed the faint silver blush spreading across Alisax's cheeks.
"You were fond of him."
Alisax's silver gaze lowered. "Yes, I was."
Watching the two converse so naturally, I couldn't help but feel relieved.
Introducing Alisax to Morgan had turned out to be the right decision.
Otherwise...
The flight would've been unbearably awkward with just the two of us.
Originally, Alisax was supposed to remain hidden.
She slipped into my shadow before leaving the Shield, and the plan was to keep her existence a secret for as long as possible.
Morgan somehow noticed the daemon hiding inside my shadow almost immediately.
So I ended up explaining everything.
About Alisax and Phoebe.
I figured it wouldn't take long for Morgan to find out about Phoebe.
She is just too good.
Bloody geniuses.
A short silence passed between us before Morgan spoke.
"You seem to be stewing about something."
"I'm wondering how I'm going to explain Phoebe to Mother," I replied with a sigh.
"I believe she already knows," Morgan replied with a shrug. "Uncle Kay likely told her and Father."
"Oh," I frowned. "His Majesty knows as well?"
"He always knows, Mordred," our crimson gazes met each other.
"There is no point in hiding anything from him."
"So I've heard," I put down the magazine.
For some reason…
I suddenly felt a little awkward.
"How is Mother?" I asked, finally meeting Morgan's eyes.
Noticing my expression, she offered a gentle smile.
"Mother's overjoyed. She's preparing a huge welcome for you."
That got me a bit worried. "I hope there won't be a banner with my face on it."
"That's oddly specific," Morgan blinked and shrugged.
"It's our mother, Mordred. I believe it's safe to expect the unexpected."
"And Gawain?" I asked.
"He went to Lyris for a training program with the paladins," Morgan replied with a smile. "Though I heard he abandoned his instructor and is already on his way back to Camelot."
Just then, her eyes drifted toward the window, and her smile widened.
"And speaking of Camelot…"
"We've arrived."
I looked outside my window, and the sight immediately stole my breath away.
The previous Mordred had spent most of his life inside the Dawn Palace.
Camelot had been little more than photographs and videos.
The same could be said for me.
Even when I left for the Shield with Merlin, I was too distracted by my imminent doom to appreciate the world outside.
But now that I have returned from the Abyss…
I found myself quite overwhelmed.
Massive skyscrapers pierced the sky like metallic fingers reaching toward the heavens, their glass façades blazing beneath the afternoon sun.
Even the portion of the world's largest metropolis visible from this height resembled a beautiful and chaotic mosaic crafted meticulously by a gifted artisan.
A mixture of the future, the present, and the past, with gleaming towers of glass and metal standing beside elegant spires and domes.
Vast parks spread across the city like emerald islands, from which veins of greenery climbed towering façades and lined broad avenues, mellowing the imposing architecture beneath.
Vehicles moved in a steady flow through the many roads and streets connecting the vast metropolis, while tiny figures moved like ants along the sidewalks.
Transparent walkways bridged neighboring skyscrapers high above the streets, while enormous displays built into the sides of buildings cycled endlessly through advertisements and public broadcasts.
As we flew deeper into the city's airspace, the beautiful urban landscape gradually faded into an immense sea of green.
Parks, lakes, and boulevards stretched across this vast mat of greenery.
This vast emerald-like district bustled with life as people wandered through its carefully maintained gardens while tourists gathered around monuments and entered what appeared to be a large museum surrounded by cafes and gift shops overlooking a wide avenue.
And rising from the heart of that verdant expanse...
Was the Royal Square, comprising the royal residences.
The largest of the three was the royal palace, and even from this height…
It was colossal.
A true marvel of architecture, constructed from pure white stone that never seemed to fade or tarnish, with towers of pure white transitioning to pure, transparent crystal.
The many tall spires and pillars of crystal earned it the name by which it was known throughout the world.
"The Crystal Palace," I murmured, unable to hide my awe.
"It's massive."
"Indeed," Alisax remarked, her silver eyes wide with wonder.
"It's like a gigantic jewel rising out of the ground."
She turned toward a rather smug-looking Morgan. "You live there?"
The Crown Princess nodded.
"Yes, I do, though I occasionally stay at the Rose Palace."
My gaze drifted toward the palace southwest of the Crystal Palace.
The Rose Palace.
A gift from the High King to Queen Guinevere.
Just as the Dawn Palace had been gifted to Queen Morgause.
Built from a soft, cream colored stone veined with blue sapphire, the palace exuded a soft elegance.
Its azure spires and roofs reflected the sky above while floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooked the Royal Square shared by the three royal residences.
Its name came from the thousands of roses flourishing within its gardens.
Roses of red, white, blue, and a myriad of colors that seemed… impossible.
And then…
There was the Dawn Palace.
A sleek and massive building, silhouetted against the light of the sun reflecting off its impressive construction of white stone and glass.
Broad terraces and graceful balconies gave the sprawling residence an almost ethereal appearance, while the immense circular dome crowning its center gleamed like a jewel.
Four towering glass spires surrounded the dome, giving the palace the appearance of an elegant crown.
Yet even that beauty pales to the spectacle created by the light of the rising sun.
When the first rays of dawn strike its glass and white stone walls, the entire palace glowed with warm golden light, becoming worthy of the name it bore.
"The three palaces are separated from the rest of the Crown District since they are residences," Morgan explained.
"Homes."
"The headquarters of the Knights of the Round, embassies, guest residences, and the various vital cogs that run the Kingdom surround the Royal Square in a great crescent."
Morgan's explanation faded in the background as one word lingered within my thoughts.
Home.
I… don't know how I feel about this.
The previous Mordred's memories of this place resurfaced in my mind.
Memories of pain, solitude, fear, and abandonment.
The Dawn Palace was a prison.
A golden cage that trapped him.
A cage that tormented and hollowed him out.
Those memories swirled in my head, and coupled with the voices that still lingered after the Abyss...
It wasn't a pleasant experience.
But…
Hidden beneath those awful glimpses of this body's past were gentler memories.
Of brief better times in those walls.
Memories of happy moments spent with Guinevere and Gawain.
Of play times with the few and short-lived friendships I had when I was called the Failed Prince.
A small smile found its way onto my face.
"What is it, Mordred?" Alisax asked, a subtle curiosity in her silver eyes.
I simply shrugged as the jet turned in the direction of the Royal Airport.
"Nothing much, Alisax."
"It's just… I'm home."