The air changed the second Arthur stepped inside.
The scent of rot. The stench of fear.
The flickering light of a single lantern illuminated rows of cages, packed with women and children.
A mother shielded her daughter as Arthur stepped forward, her eyes filled with terror.
"Monsters."
"Men are monsters."
Arthur sighed, his fingers tightening around Excalibur.
"One, two, three—no one bleeds."
He turned to the guard. "Open the cage."
The guard hesitated. Arthur didn't repeat himself.
With shaking hands, the man fumbled for the keys and unlocked the gate.
When Arthur stepped inside. The woman flinched.
One mother gasped, pressing her daughter against her chest.
Arthur's heart twisted at the sight.
He knelt. Showing he didn't command. He didn't demand.
He simply spoke.
"I am Arthur Pendragon." His voice was steady, firm, yet gentle. "I know you are scared. You have every right to be. But I swear on my life—I will take you home."
Silence.
Then, a small girl took a single step forward. The mother gasped, reaching for her.
"No—"
He turned his gaze to the child. She was young. Too young for a world like this.
Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "Some of us… We have no home."
Arthur exhaled.
She didn't know it, but those words had crushed him.
"No home."
He had been on the seas long enough to understand what that truly meant. He lifted a hand, palm facing up, an unspoken gesture of trust.
"I am sorry for what has happened to you." He met every one of their gazes. "Those who wish to return home may. And those who wish for a home…"
A pause.
Then, with absolute certainty— "…you will be welcomed into mine with open arms."
A moment of stillness.
Then, one by one, the women and children stepped forward.
Tears streamed down weathered faces. Hands gripped his own.
The mother collapsed, sobbing as she pressed a kiss to her daughter's hair, grateful—so grateful—for salvation she thought would never come.
Arthur led them out of the darkness.
And the Egyptian captain—that pathetic, weak man—could do nothing but watch.
Once every woman and child had stepped onto his ship, only then did Arthur return to him. He didn't raise his blade. He didn't need to. He merely stepped closer and spoke.
"Here's what's going to happen." The weight of command bled into his voice.
"You're going to turn your ship around and sail for Babylon. My crew will ensure that you make it there, and I will return every woman and child you stole from their homes."
His gaze was ice.
Arthur stepped closer, his fingers stretched over the hilt of Excalibur.
"Here's what's going to happen," he said, voice steady. "You're going to turn your ship around and return every woman and child you took from their homes.
Then, you will sail to my father's port and explain your actions. If he shows you mercy—if—consider yourself lucky."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "But if I see you again on these seas, pray you don't meet my sight."
The Egyptian captain, though seething, knew better than to challenge him.
Arthur turned and boarded his ship.
"Wait!"
A small blur of movement rushed past the sailors, darting down the ramp before anyone could stop her.
Arthur barely had time to react before the little girl from before threw herself into his arms.
She buried her face in his chest, her tiny hands clutching his coat, shaking.
"I'm scared."
Arthur's heart clenched.
He knelt, gently pulling her back just enough to meet her gaze.
Her dark, frightened eyes searched his face, looking for reassurance, looking for something solid in a world that had crumbled beneath her feet.
Arthur smiled softly.
"Fear is natural," he told her, his voice steady. "But do you know what comes after fear?"
She shook her head.
Arthur's smile deepened. "Freedom."
She blinked up at him.
"Be free." His tone was quiet but filled with certainty. "And when I return, we will see each other again."
Her little hands clung tighter for a moment, reluctant.
Then, her eyes flickered to the woven bracelet around his wrist.
"What's that for?" she asked, pointing.
Arthur followed her gaze to the braided band—blue and gold, worn from the sun, but still strong.
"My sister Elaine," he answered, running his fingers over the fabric. "She waits for me back home."
The little girl nodded slowly, as if committing the name to memory.
Arthur looked at the bracelet for a long moment. Then, with gentle hands, he slid it from his wrist and wrapped it around hers.
Her eyes widened.
"When you see her," Arthur said, fastening the knot, "tell her to make me another one."
The girl's face broke into a smile.
She held her wrist close, gripping it like a treasure.
Arthur ruffled her hair, then nodded toward the ship.
"Go on."
With one last glance, she turned and ran back toward the ramp, her small legs carrying her onto the deck just as the sails unfurled
He watched as the ship drifted away with His people and prayed they would find peace in the new life they had been given.
The deck was quiet now, save for the soft lapping of waves against the ship's hull.
The crew had dispersed, tending to their duties, but Arthur remained at the center of it all, his attention fixed on the woman they had just rescued.
She was still trembling, barely clothed, her golden scales catching the moonlight. Without hesitation, Arthur shrugged off his coat and draped it around her shoulders.
The fabric was far too large for her, but she clutched it like a lifeline.
Cesealia stepped forward. "I'll find something for her to wear."
Arthur nodded, then knelt before the woman, lowering himself to eye level. He studied her carefully, noting the way her breathing was shallow, the way her fingers trembled as she gripped his coat.
"Are you hurt?" His voice was softer now, reassuring.
The woman exhaled shakily, her lilac hair spilling over her shoulders. Her purple-blue eyes met his, glassy with exhaustion.
"…Thank you," she whispered.
Arthur smiled faintly. "Welcome aboard the King of the Seas." He gestured around them. "I am Arthur Pendragon, and this—" he motioned to the ship and his crew, "—is your home now. You're safe."
Cesealia returned with a bundle of clothes—loose linen garments, modest and comfortable. She offered them to the woman gently. "Here, this should fit you."
The woman took them with a slight nod. Cesealia hesitated before asking,
"What's your name?"
For a moment, she said nothing. Then, as if the weight of it was too much, she lowered her gaze. A single tear slipped down her cheek, glistening like seawater.
Arthur waited. He did not push, did not pry.
Finally, she lifted her head, her gaze locking onto his rather than Cesealia's.
"… Mandaloriyah, Your Grace," she murmured.
Arthur studied her, his expression unreadable. "Where is your home, Mandaloriyah?"
She flinched, her fingers tightening around the coat.
A heavy silence fell over them.
Cesealia stepped in, placing a reassuring hand on the mermaid's arm.
"It's okay," she said softly. "You don't have to speak of it now. We can talk later."
Mandaloriyah exhaled, visibly relieved.
Cesealia turned to Arthur. "I'll take her below deck, show her where she can rest."
Arthur nodded, watching as Cesealia led Mandaloriyah away.
She was in no condition to swim back home.
He remained there a moment longer, staring out over the ocean.
The sea had taken so much. It had given him adventure, yes—but it had also brought suffering.
And now, it had given him a new purpose.
One by one.
Over the week, they returned the people to their homes.
Each village, each family, they reunited, tried to give Arthur gifts—gold, silk, fine treasures fit for royalty. And each time, he refused. "A true king does not take from those who have already lost," his mother would say. The only one left to take home was Mandoriyah. She was still too weak to swim. The journey wasn't over just yet.
Arthur stood at the helm of the ship, his hands loosely gripping the wheel, steering as the wind carried them over the endless blue.
Cesealia leaned against the railing nearby, watching him.
Hawthorne jogged over, the second in command.
He wipes sweat from his brow. "Sir," he greeted with a nod. "Storm's rolling in from the west. Shouldn't be too rough, but best to prepare."
"Get the sails secured. We'll adjust the course if needed." Arthru replied.
Hawthorne nodded once.
Cesealia glanced at Arthur ."Your birthday's in a few days," she mused.
He smirked, barely glancing up. "So it is."
She tilted her head. "What do you want?"
At that, he finally turned to her, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"I have everything I want on this ship."
Cesealia narrowed her eyes, not buying it. "Really? Anyone I know?"
Arthur raised a brow.
Before she could react, he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around her and going straight for her ticklish spot.
She shrieked, laughing as she squirmed in his grasp.
"Arthur! Stop—" she gasped between giggles, half-heartedly swatting at him.
"Not until you admit it," he teased, grinning like a fool.
She struggled, half-laughing, half-out of breath. "Admit what?"
"You know what… "
Cesealia scoffed between breaths. "No— I do not—"
Arthur smirked. "Wrong answer."
She laughed again, helpless, before finally caving. "Fine! I love you more !"
Arthur chuckled in victory and finally let her go, both of them breathless and smiling.
But before Cesealia could fully recover, a voice rang
"Excuse me—"
They both halted.
Mandoriya stood at the entrance of the deck, watching them.
Arthur straightened, noting the unease in her eyes. He cleared his throat and offered an easy smile. "Good morning. How did you sleep?"
Cesealia subtly adjusted her shirt, still catching her breath, her face flushed from both the tickling and the unexpected interruption.
She hesitated, shifting on her feet. "I didn't sleep," she admitted quietly.
Arthur frowned. "You didn't?"
She shook her head. "We… sleep in water." Her voice dropped slightly. "But water is not safe."
Arthur and Cesealia exchanged glances.
"Not safe?" Arthur repeated.
Mandoriyah nodded quickly, her expression unreadable. Then, without another word, she turned and hurried away.
Arthur watched her retreating figure, his easygoing demeanor slipping slightly.
Cesealia sighed. "Whatever it is that drove her out here… must have her shaken up."
Arthur exhaled, his gaze lingering on the horizon. "I wonder what it is."
For a moment, they stood in silence.
The air between them… wasn't quite the same.
She broke the silence. "I missed you this morning," she said softly. "And the morning before that… and before that."
He sighed," I'm sorry, love. By the time I retire, you're either sleeping or on the lookout post."
She walked toward him, her expression softer now. "We've made small places work before… Have you seen my bedroom back home?"
He chuckled, pulling her into his arms, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Cesealia Quin, are you issuing a challenge ?'
She smiled innocently, "Maybe."
"How about this—" he murmured, brushing a kiss against her cheek. "I finish patrol early, and you wear nothing but that pretty little smile of yours and wait for me."
She smirked, tracing a finger down his chest. "Is that a prince's promise?"
Arthur tilted her chin up, kissing her deeply. "It's an Arthur's promise."
She hummed, pretending to consider it. "Fine. I'll hold Arthur to that." Then, with a teasing grin, she turned on her heel, strutting back onto the deck, barking out orders.
Arthur watched her go, chuckling to himself. Even as the distance grew… She was still Cesealia. His Cesealia. He barely had time to prepare for his pending night of bliss before the ship rocked, ever so slightly. Nothing too alarming. Ships rocked. Waves did that. But not this hard.
Then again.
And again.
A sense of unease curled in his gut, and the lookout suddenly shouted. "Captain! Up ahead!"
Arthur strode to the railing, scanning the waters—then he saw it. A large fin, slicing through the ocean, circling them. And then—it vanished.
"What the hell…?" Arthur murmured. His grip on the wheel tightened. "Ready the cannons!" he ordered.
The crew scrambled, but then— "Sir! The sail is stuck!"
Arthur whipped around."Cesealia, you know what to do!"
"On it!" she shouted back.
With practiced ease, she took a dagger and cut the ropes, letting them snap free—the force launching her into the air. She flipped mid-air, slicing the tangled mess loose before grabbing hold of another rope and swinging back onto the deck. "More sail! I'm falling asleep over here!"
The crew groaned but obeyed. "Yes, ma'am!"
The moment her boots hit the wood, she grabbed Mandoriya by the wrist. "Come on," she said firmly. "We need to get you somewhere safe."
Arthur, still scanning the water, felt something was wrong. Mandoriyah, however, barely moved as Cesealia pulled her below deck. When they reached the women's quarters, Cesealia gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.
"Don't worry," she promised. "We'll handle it." With that, she left, slamming the door behind her, ready to fight.
But Mandoriyah did not move. Slowly, she turned toward the small, round window overlooking the sea. Her breath hitched. Outside, beneath the waves, she saw it. The monster. She gasped, covering her mouth—then quickly pulled the sheets over her head. As if hiding would make it go away. But she knew better. It had found her. And it would not let her go.
Above deck, Arthur scanned the horizon. Think, Arthur, think, he thought, what would Alexander do? A storm was coming. Perfect. If they could ride the storm, the beast wouldn't be able to follow. Too much current. Too much chaos.
Arthur made his decision. He grabbed the wheel, bracing himself as the winds picked up. "PREPARE THE ANCHOR FOR TURNING!" he roared.
"YES, CAPTAIN!" the crew echoed, working fast to spin the anchor, forcing the ship to pivot.
The ship groaned against the force of the sea, waves crashing against the hull as they steered straight toward the storm.
Cesealia rushed to his side, water dripping from her hair. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" she shouted over the wind.
Arthur grinned, eyes wild with adrenaline. "Might not be a good one, but it's an idea!"
She rolled her eyes—but clung to him as the rain began to pour and the dark clouds covered the sky.
The ship lurched forward, caught in the heart of the storm.
Arthur held her close, protecting her from the brutal winds.
"Let's ride the storm together, love."
Cesealia nodded.
The ship rocked violently, caught between the battle of wind and sea. But they pushed forward. They would not falter. They survived the night—and by morning, the beast was gone. The sea was eerily calm, as if nothing had ever happened. But the ship was damaged.
"Captain!" a crew member called. "The hull's taken damage! We need to make repairs!"
Arthur sighed, wiping water from his face. Consequences: He turned to the nearest map. There was a small island nearby. Their only option.
"Set course for Ember Shore Island."