Character reference:

Bors: Vector
Elyan: Charmy
Bedivere: Espio
Gaheris: Mighty
Kay: Storm

"Whoa!"

Elyan's shriek of glee was the perfect opening note to the symphony of horror stewing in Bors' heart. The crocodile looked around him, his eyes taking in the unfamiliar trees with thick red bark, the shorter and darker grasses around his feet, the sight of the sun already beginning to set behind a row of mountains uncharacteristic to his home, and his son zipping through the air, from trunk to trunk, looking beside himself with glee.

He shouldn't be here.

Bors sucked in a breath; he hadn't realized until just then that he hadn't been breathing. He knew he should be scolding Elyan for running into the scattering spell like that, to make him realize that he was in a dangerous new place and now Bors would have to juggle between looking after him and finishing his quest, but words failed him as reality jabbed him like a knife.

He shouldn't be here. This is dangerous. He shouldn't be here.

The soft grinding of metal against metal sounded to his left, and Bors saw Bedivere, standing beside him, arms crossed and visor lowered and oh… oh he was most definitely angry. It was hard to tell but Bors had been friends with this man for around twelve years now. He knew how to identify all of the different degrees of anger that Bedivere hid behind a wall of discipline, and right then...

He's pissed.

Bedivere was furious. Elyan was in Carhaix with them instead of safe at home with the king, queen and smiths. They were in the middle of nowhere and night was already beginning to fall.

I'm screwed.

"E-Elyan!" he called out, finally catching the bee's attention. The boy swerved in the air, zooming back to him without a moment's hesitation, and on instinct Bors lifted his arms to catch him before he collided with his body. The bee giggled in mirth, peeking up at his father as his wings still flapped in excitement.

"The trees are humongous!" he cried in delight, completely missing the gravity of the situation, and Bors fought to attain a proper 'stern parent' voice without it evolving into a yell.

"Elyan! You weren't supposed to do that!"

He kept his voice as calm as possible, but all the same, his son flinched, and Bors felt his unease worsen as he knew exactly how this conversation would go.

"I… I'm sorry," Elyan whimpered, and Bors felt his heart break in two. "I didn't… I just… You're not going to get rid of me, are you?"

It was the same question every time, and every time, Bors broke like a twig underneath a footstep.

"No," he sighed, hugging his son closer. "Never. I chose you, understand?"

Elyan remained silent, and Bors knew that the message would still not go through this time.

You're not going to get abandoned again, least of all by me. Please stop asking that.

The sky continued to darken as Bors held his son, unable to find it in him to chastise him for being so reckless, while next to him, he heard the rustling of paper as Bedivere checked in with the rest, remaining silent. A chill descended on them as the warmth from the sun grew lesser and lesser, and Bors decided that if he was going to have some kind of panic attack over his unpredictable son joining in on his mission in a foreign land, he at least wanted to do so indoors.

"It's getting dark," he mentioned aloud, and Elyan's antennae perked up at the words. "We should find the nearest-"

"I'LL FIND IT!" Elyan screamed, squirming out of Bors' hold and darting up above the trees, holding his hand over his eyes like a visor, much to his father's exasperation.

"I didn't even say what we should be looking for," he muttered, picking up his own paper and checking in as well, marking their status as 'problem' with the yellow exclamation mark, just as Bedivere had.

"It should be clear enough that we are looking for shelter," Bedivere snapped, his tone considerably more hostile than Bors had been expecting.

The crocodile sighed, putting his paper away and rubbing at the ridge above his eyes. "Look, Vere, I didn't want this to happen either."

"Then why did you not keep him supervised and away during the scattering?" the chameleon demanded, causing Bors' blood to boil and his nerves to spike. "Why did you not tell him to go back inside when he did decide to join us?"

"He wanted one last goodbye!" Bors protested. "Why should I deny him-"

"And moreover," Bedivere barreled on, apparently angry enough to interrupt, "why do you still refuse to discipline your son and tell him exactly what he did wrong and why?"

Bors had to struggle to unclench his jaw so he could answer. "Do not tell me how to raise my own child," he warned.

"You aren't raising him," Bedivere returned coldly. "As far as I can see, you're failing him."

That was the final straw.

"For god's sake, Vere, he's seven!" Bors thundered. "He's seven and he's already lost everything once, and I'm not going to be the one who scares him out of doing anything because then he'll be afraid of making mistakes with everything he does! If you truly want him to be disciplined in a way you think is right, perhaps you ought to do it yourself!"

"Do not put that responsibility on me, I am not the boy's father."

"What does it matter? He sees you as one!"

Bedivere visibly tensed up, his left hand drawing out one of his throwing daggers in a flash, and before Bors could even blink, the chameleon had let it fly through the air, landing in the bark of a far away tree.

The message was clear. The conversation needed to end there and now, before it got any more volatile. Bedivere stalked off, walking at a slow pace to retrieve his dagger, making the most of his time distanced, and Bors rested his back against another tree, unable to resist the urge to rest his head in his hands.

Fantastic. Now he was angry as well as scared.

He knew he was wrong to keep letting Elyan off the hook like that, but there were still too many factors to consider. He had only had the boy for a year, and he still faced every hint of anger with fear, another sign that he would be left alone again, and it would be all his fault. Bors had heard him say as much, in simpler words, in the midst of blubbering and tears.

He didn't want to hurt him, but he didn't want him to keep avoiding consequences.

Why is being a father so difficult?

"Father?"

Bors looked up; Elyan was hovering in front of him, looking more subdued than before. The bee seemed too nervous to even try to touch him. "I saw a big castle over there," he said, pointing westward. "It is not very far."

He was hardly speaking either. Bors swallowed as he got to his feet, reaching out a hand to give his boy a soft pat on the head.

"Good work, El," he said, and the bee brightened up.

"We should get moving," Bedivere remarked from behind them both, causing Bors to jump in surprise. "If we start now, we might make it there before nightfall."

"And where there's a castle, there's usually a monarch," Bors deduced as the three started trekking through the trees, their tense truce hanging over them like a heavy fog. "We might even get a head start on finishing this quest."

"The sooner we get it done, the better," Bedivere replied shortly, causing Elyan to wilt and Bors to frown. Elyan straightened up again only a second later, immediately zipping over to fly by Bedivere's shoulder.

"Do you hate me now?" he asked, and Bors could have started crying right then and there.

"...No. Not at all. Don't let such a ridiculous thought get into your head."

Elyan perked up at that, and Bors felt a fraction of relief claim him until Bedivere continued, his voice remaining firm. "I am angry with you. There is a difference."

To that, Elyan looked surprised and confused, enough to keep him quiet and enough to get Bors thinking.

Perhaps Bedivere was right.

Perhaps I am failing him as a parent…

Merlina's spell had served its purpose well, as the trio had ended up on the outskirts of the capital city of Carhaix, and the castle that Elyan had spotted was that of the primary sovereign of the kingdom, just as Bors had hoped. With their knightly appearances, Bors and Bedivere were able to request an audience with King Conan Meriadoc, and much to their surprise, it was granted in moments.

"Coming 'ere at zis hour worked to your advantage." A brown coyote with a thick accent and the robes of a high advisor led the three of them down the halls, keeping an eye on Elyan, only redirecting his focus once Bors decided to keep a firm grip on his son's hand to keep him from flying about. "Most expect 'is Majesty to be in bed by now."

"In bed?" Bors murmured, frowning.

"A growing boy needs 'is sleep," the advisor replied, stunning Bors.

Does that mean that the king of Carhaix is…

They were ushered into the throne room, a grand space decorated in white and gold, with tall, thin windows that reflected the torchlight that came from all around them. A deep red carpet covered the stone floors leading up to the king's throne, where a young, golden flying squirrel sat in wait with a small, happy smile on his face.

"Welcome!" he greeted them all with a wave, and Bors' suspicions were confirmed.

The king of Carhaix was a child of no more than twelve, if he had to guess.

Still, he approached at the king's signal and sunk into a kneel, with Bedivere following suit and Elyan copying them both after a moment of thought. The coyote advisor, meanwhile, took his place at the king's side. The squirrel glanced over at him, as if asking for permission to continue, then spoke again when the advisor nodded toward their guests.

"Please state your names and your business with us."

The crocodile cleared his throat. "I am Sir Bors Ganis the Younger of Avalon, and this is my son, Elyan."

"And I am Sir Bedivere Bedrydant of Avalon." Bedivere raised his head. "We are here on behalf of King Arthur, if you will hear our plea?"

"Plea?" King Conan echoed, before his advisor cleared his throat and set him back into character. "Erm, right! We shall hear what you have to say, if you have travelled such a long way!"

Bedivere opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated when the king stifled a yawn. "Perhaps we ought to explain the whole matter in the morning?" he suggested. "You seem… tired, Your Majesty."

King Conan shook his head, obstinately staying put. "I shall-"

"Ahem."

"...Oh! We shall hear what you have to say now, and if it merits further discussion, then we shall schedule a meeting for tomorrow."

Bors looked from king to advisor, taking in the tired eyes of both, and wondered just what he had gotten himself into.

Bedivere, on the other hand, seemed to have no further trouble speaking, and as he informed them both of their knowledge about the emeralds and their suspicions about the Saxons, as well as their offers to help protect it, there were very stark changes to the two before them.

The advisor's eyes went wide at the mention of the emerald, and though he fought to keep a straight face, Bors was a master at reading people. He saw the clenching of the fingers, the slow descent of the shoulders as they relaxed again, and the somewhat faraway look of disappointment.

The young king, on the other hand, looked relieved.

"I should be glad to be rid of the thing," he admitted, missing his advisor's nervous, exasperated glance at him. "It's been a secret for so long… I'm rather glad that the others know about it, now."

"Your Majesty," the advisor spoke up, sounding a moment away from panicking, "you cannot be considering…"

"Only considering, Antoine," King Conan replied, looking over at the visiting knights curiously. "...It is a treasure of our kingdom, after all."

"We are prepared to simply offer aid as well," Bedivere said. "We are not requesting, nor demanding your emerald. We simply wish to let you know that we know it exists and know that it puts a target on your kingdom. Carhaix is further away, and harder to reach, but all the same… it is known by the Saxon emperor that you carry one. If he is not stopped soon, he will be here to claim it someday." The chameleon took a breath; his false right hand trembled, and then steadied. "And… please remember that this war will not be one you will be able to ignore, even if you do try to rid yourself of anything that might make you a target."

The king's eyes widened, as did those of his advisor. The two looked at each other, before Antoine bent down to whisper into King Conan's ear, and the king cupped his hand to his own mouth to whisper back.

Next to him, Bors felt Elyan stir, buzzing softly, leaning forward as though to dash forward and ask what they were saying. The crocodile set a hand on his son's back, silently telling him to stay put, and Elyan's buzzing came to a halt.

For a while, no one moved, until the king faced them again, looking thoughtful.

"We have a tournament coming up in about a month," he announced, garnering the attention of all three before him. "Should you prove your might and courage… we will give heavy consideration to lending you our emerald for safekeeping. In exchange we…" The squirrel faltered, just for a moment, and his voice became meeker. "...we hope that Avalon will be willing to come to our aid, if ever we need it."

"May we think on it?" Bors requested, and in response, King Conan nodded.

"It appears that we shall be having that meeting in the morning after all!" he remarked, seeming amused by the idea.

Bors hummed lowly before speaking again. "Sire, I must say, you have a tendency to share more than you ought. You are young, and I mean no disrespect, but is it not a concern to appear vulnerable, especially on your own land?"

King Conan frowned, and from his other side, Bors could feel Bedivere's icy glare at his lack of tact.

Yet the king closed his large, tired eyes and spoke. "Perhaps. But sometimes, appearing vulnerable is what grants you the aid you need." His eyes blinked back open, seeming much too old for the body they were on, and stared through Bors, piercing into his soul. "And if others should take advantage of that… is it not they who are at fault?"

Elyan started buzzing again, and Bors held back a sad smile. He knew this worldview, a young one, a naive one, a kindhearted one… one that often led to problems more than solutions.

It was the sort of thing Gaheris would say...

All the same, Bors was not the sort of man to take advantage of kindness such as this. He would drop warnings, but ultimately, his knight's code ran his heart and his mind.

"Perhaps," he replied, and King Conan relaxed a fraction.

"Regardless, I feel as though I can trust you," he said, and Bors found himself fighting back another smile, albeit a happier one.

The advisor cleared his throat, redirecting the focus to him. "Per'aps zis would be something we bring up at tomorrow's meeting?" he suggested, and King Conan blinked before stifling another yawn.

"Good idea, Antoine," he said before turning forward. "I'm afraid we have no rooms prepared on such short notice…"

"In that case, would you mind terribly pointing us in the direction of the nearest inn?" Bors suggested. "Perhaps… with a message asking for a discount on the rooms? Seeing as we might be here for a while, especially if we are to be joining this tournament."

Bors could feel Bedivere's irritation coming off of him in waves, but it couldn't be helped; the crocodile was too beholden to his ways of searching for deals.

In a rush, they finalized the time and place of their meeting the next day, and the Avalonian trio left the castle premises with directions to an inn of good reputation, and a note from the king requesting Bors' discount. The skies were entirely dark as they made their way through the town outside the castle, and Elyan loosened his tongue after staying quiet for a record amount of time for him.

"Why is it so dark out?" he asked, flying in circles around his father's head. "It was noon not very long ago!"

"We are in a different part of the world," Bors explained as they rounded a bend into a livelier street. "The sun rises and sets at a different time."

"So it's nighttime?" Elyan pondered it over as he did a backflip. "Yet I am not sleepy."

"Speak for yourself," Bors muttered, rubbing a hand over his shoulders, as though wishing to massage them through his chainmail. "This has taken more out of me than twelve sparring sessions with Gawain ever could…"

"That is because you are old!" Elyan chirped, expertly dodging Bors' half-hearted swipe at him with a giggle.

It felt… normal. Having Elyan along with him felt like just another day at home, even though Bors knew that the boy should never have come along.

But Bedivere's icy silence drove a hard wedge of reality into his illusion of comfort.

Bors hoped that, in the month leading up to the tournament, his friend's irritation would fade. Bedivere was a clever man, and he had to have realized in that one audience with King Conan that the emerald would be safer with them in Avalon, just as Bors had. The crocodile took some comfort in knowing that this was hardly the first time they had had a disagreement leading to an argument, but all the same...

If they wanted to do well in the tournament, they all needed to be on the same page and as thick as thieves again.

Gaheris' finger trembled as he marked his status down as a 'problem'.

There were quite a few problems, in fact.

The first being that he clearly wasn't in Spiral Kingdom, where he needed to be, as the diplomat. He was in the wrong place, unable to do the job he was assigned, and the idea that he might have to work much harder to figure out what he needed to do was daunting to him.

Especially when he considered the second obvious problem before him: his companion.

Sir Kay stood before him, giant and intimidating as usual, staring down at him as though expecting something, and Gaheris felt his guts clench up in apprehension. This was not Galahad, the sweet boy who could help him on days when his leg gave him trouble and was patient enough to let him think things through. This was Kay, whose bad temper was practically legendary among the knights and who Gaheris had once seen throw a man across a room for scoffing at him.

And now he was looking down at him, feathers already rising, and Gaheris had no clue how to proceed.

"Erm…" The armadillo looked back and forth, his dark eyes roaming the dense jungle foliage. "...Perhaps we ought to figure out where we are?"

Kay's feathers started to relax, and Gaheris felt his muscles unclench in tandem.

A plan. He just needed a plan. Kay did well with a plan before him, did he not?

Right. This was doable. All he had to do was figure out where they were, find the sovereign of the land, and complete the quest. Simple.

Not to mention, the opportunity to admire a new land was always appealing!

Gaheris started to walk along, hearing Kay's lumbering footsteps sound behind him, though the albatross himself said nothing. The armadillo's eyes looked around, soaking up the new sights; vines reaching down from branches overhead, brightly-colored flowers sprouting up and letting their perfumed scents into the air, the sheer variety of trees all around him…

For a while, it was incredibly beautiful, a welcome distraction from the tense silence coming from his companion, but eventually the consistency of Kay's footfalls became more of a focus point than the spontaneity of the world around them, and even the multitude of sounds from the jungle around them couldn't mask the heaviness of Kay's silence.

Gaheris had experienced walking with a quiet partner before, in all of his missions paired up with Bedivere, but this was entirely different, and it set him on edge. Try as he might, he just couldn't shake the sense that Kay was angry with him for some reason, and he didn't wish to risk asking to find out if this was the case.

As the minutes dragged on, Gaheris only felt more worry. He had no idea where to go, whether they were approaching civilization or heading away from it, and Kay offered no aid. The Peaceful Knight tried to calm his nerves as best as he could, but one thought kept echoing in his head.

It is all up to me. It is all up to me. It is all up to me…

Desperation began gnawing at him like a starved animal, and his brain scrambled for something, Chaos anything, to say.

"I-If you see something of interest, please let me know!"

...Well, it could have been worse.

"Fine."

...Still could be worse?

Yet the desperation did not cease, and Gaheris found himself scrambling for a plan, or a sign, or anything to soothe his nerves. He swallowed, trying his best to refocus, and began humming a song he remembered from his childhood in Angel Village. As he delicately brushed a large fern frond away to pass by, he delved into his memories of his first home, of Gareth singing and playing with him, of Gawain wrestling with him and challenging him to competitions, of feeling warm and safe and calm…

"Careful makin' noise like that. Predators will have a field day with ya."

Gaheris jumped in surprise, his bad leg thankfully holding up well despite the sudden stress, and from between the foliage, a brown and orange jungle badger stepped forward, with tattered clothes and a large stick in hand.

"S-Sorry miss!" Gaheris apologized, and the badger's eyes narrowed.

"Not a 'miss'."

"Oh, erm… sir?" he tried again.

"Wrong again."

"...Neither?"

They grinned, blue eyes glinting. "Ya got it that time. But as I was sayin'... you town folk are always too noisy. Makes all the things you wanna find hide away, and all the things you wanna hide from find ya." They tossed their stick from one hand to the other, their eyes switching from Gaheris to Kay. "And your friend there's makin' enough noise to wake the whole jungle."

"I am very sorry," Gaheris apologized again, hoping to appease the newcomer, but they let out a soft 'hmph' at his attempt. The armadillo looked back at his companion; Kay's feathers were starting to rise again, and fear clutched at Gaheris as he thought of all too many scenarios of Kay losing his temper and driving away their first chance at gathering information.

And so, Gaheris forced himself to speak.

"I apologize for the noise," he said, earning himself an eye-roll from the badger, "but would you mind terribly telling us where we are, and where the nearest town is? We seem to be lost."

"I could tell," they replied dryly, and Gaheris could practically feel the tension in the air rise to new heights. "Well, consider yourselves lucky. You only walked a little deeper into the jungle." They pointed over Gaheris' shoulder, back the way they came. "Try retracin' your steps. Sooner or later, you'll be outta the jungle and into the grasslands. Signs everywhere. Can't miss 'em."

Gaheris smiled, relief sweeping over him and almost drowning out his embarrassment. "Thank you so much! All we needed was a point in the right direction, and I'm sure you have saved us today."

Yet the badger snorted, tapping their stick onto the ground. "Nah… No one's safe in Caerleon."

Ah, so we're in Caerleon Kingdom…

Yet the badger's words concerned Gaheris. Were they unhappy with their kingdom? Was there something he could do about it? Perhaps send a message to the sovereign?

"I do not mean to pry," he said, instantly earning himself a suspicious look from the other, "but is there something specific that makes you feel this way? We are off to see the sovereign, so perhaps-"

The badger let out a bark of laughter. "Oh right, of course! No one's gonna let that lil' secret out!" They grinned with a manic glee, leaning in to whisper in Gaheris' ear.

"We don't have a sovereign."

Gaheris blinked in surprise, pulling his head away. "I beg your pardon?"

The badger kept grinning, eyes gleaming with delight at Gaheris' shock. "The ol' queen died a couple'a months ago. No heir. Everyone's been scramblin' about tryin' to find a replacement, the nobility's in shambles, tryin' to keep this a secret from the rest o' the world, but no luck… And I'll be honest, I hope it stays that way."

Gaheris parted his mouth, trying to form words as his mind wrapped around this new information. "You… want no new sovereign?"

The badger tutted, shaking their head. "I don't like the monarchy," they explained, direct as an arrow to the chest. "It's a bad system, and it doesn't work for a lotta folk. It's why I'm out here, living on my own." They spread their arms, looking left and right. "The jungle's done loads more for me than the queen ever did."

Gaheris sucked in a breath, forcing back his instinctive response to correct this person. I know nothing of life in Caerleon, he reminded himself. Perhaps a large kingdom like this one has more significant issues and inequalities than a small one like Avalon.

His curiosity grew, and he had to ask, "And what of the big decisions for the good of your kingdom? Regulations, taxes, and such?"

The badger rolled their eyes. "Look, I'll make it simple: One person decidin' how things work for everyone, regardless of who they are or how they live, is stupid. Especially if that one person sticks around until they die." The badger spat at the ground in disdain, and though it made him uncomfortable to hear it, Gaheris stayed quiet and beckoned them to continue. "Even with all the spies and advisors in the world, one person can't know the plights of a whole kingdom. People have it in 'em to govern themselves just fine, in their little groups and their towns. Just look at us! No queen for months, but life's been goin' on without one. People don't want to know that they can live without someone up top callin' the shots, but we aren't dead yet!"

They smiled, as though pleased with their explanation. "I'll admit it, it ain't all sunshine to start out with. People hear 'no queen' and some o' them think it's a free pass to be an asshole. Some o' them just sit there and wait for someone new to tell 'em what to do. But as for me? I've always said we should just live as we should."

Gaheris nodded thoughtfully, both frightened and intrigued by this worldview, but the sound of shuffling behind him reminded him of Kay, and Kay reminded him of the emerald that they were supposed to collect or to guard, and Gaheris felt fear seize him anew as he realized that there could be no one with which to discuss his quest. "All the same, we do need to speak with someone involved in politics," he explained. "It is an urgent matter, and it affects all within the kingdom."

The badger cocked their head, eyes narrowing. "What is it?"

The armadillo hesitated. "I… do not know if I am allowed to tell you this," he explained, apologetic, but the badger scoffed and thwacked their stick against the ground in annoyance.

"That's the other thing I hate. The monarchs always keepin' secrets from their people. It's insulting. Those nobles, they gather at the top and stuff themselves on power because they're afraid of not havin' their way. Nothin' but a buncha greedy assholes…"

Gaheris worried his lip with his teeth, feeling his discomfort rise to a peak. He had to wonder, just how many people thought this way? How many people felt stifled by their government, rather than cared for?

"You have quite a few points," he finally replied, and the badger's bright blue eyes snapped to his own. "Many of which, I cannot even begin to refute, and perhaps I should not be refuting them. However…" He took a deep breath. "I've always believed that all sin is born from good intentions, taken to horrible extremes. I think there is nothing wrong with a want for power, especially if it is used in a way that benefits as many as possible. I cannot deny that there are those that misuse the power they are given… there are undoubtedly those who do as you say, and grab for every ounce they may keep for themselves. But… I've always believed in the good in people. I believe that minds can be changed. And though I cannot say anything about Caerleon, I believe in my king and queen to have everyone's best interests at heart… and perhaps, then, it is my own duty as a knight to help make sure the voices of all people in Avalon are heard, no matter how poor they are or far from the castle they may live." He smiled to himself, resting one hand on his breastplate, over his heart. "Perhaps that was always a duty of mine… one that I managed to forget until now."

The badger regarded him with an unreadable expression. "Not too bright, are ya?" they finally said, tone even. "You think with your heart. Do that too much and you'll get yourself hurt something awful."

Gaheris looked down; the scars on his left leg stood stark against the rest of the skin, reminding him of yet another time when he had listened to his heart rather than his head. "I already have been."

The badger kept staring at him. A soft breeze whistled through the leaves, reminding Gaheris of his home.

Then, the badger smiled, much more genuine than before. "You're a strange one," they remarked. "Can't say I agree with ya on everythin', but I can tell I can't persuade ya when it comes to your king and queen. Maybe they are all ya said that they are, but I've never been to Avalon."

"I hope you might be able to visit sometime," Gaheris replied, giving back a smile of his own. "It's a lovely place, and I hope it only gets better."

"Hmph. Maybe." The badger leaned on their stick, appearing much more relaxed. "And ya actually listened to what I had to say. Big step up from most people."

"You had some very interesting insight," Gaheris pointed out. "In any case, you've given me much to think about."

The badger hummed, picking up their stick and pointing it over Gaheris' shoulder. "That way," they instructed with no further preamble. "About twenty minutes before you get to grassland, and another ten before you hit the dirt road. Take either direction, doesn't matter which. There are signs everywhere in this kingdom. They'll point you to a town. After that, you're on your own."

Gaheris grinned and bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you so much."

"Right, right. Now get goin', it's gonna get windy real soon." The badger waved their stick as though to shoo them off. "It's been a treat talkin' to ya, but I gotta get back to my crops before the wind gets too strong."

Gaheris laughed, but listened to their warning and dismissal, turning around and walking back towards Kay in a considerably better mood. As the albatross turned to follow him out of the jungle, they heard the badger call after them, "May Borrum guide ya!"

From over his shoulder, Gaheris called back, "And may Chaos smile upon you!"

The wind had indeed begun to pick up in intensity as Gaheris and Kay made it out of the jungle and onto the plains of Caerleon, but Gaheris' mind was still too preoccupied to notice its force.

Instead, he kept thinking about his conversation with the badger, and the new questions it had brought up in him. If not a monarchy nor an empire, what other form of government could serve its people the best? What would be the pros and cons? How would it be established, and how complex would it have to be? Did a perfect form of governance exist, and if so, how could it be achieved?

These were questions he had never asked before, and it was a strange mix of frightening and exhilarating to think about. Yet Gaheris was a diplomat; it was in his nature, and his very job, to try his best to understand and listen to other points of view.

By the time they had made it to the road, Gaheris was in high spirits, and when a sign became clear on the horizon to the left, it seemed as though nothing could go wrong. Even Kay's utter silence failed to unnerve the armadillo as he made his way forward until the sign was right before him.

The nearest town was close by. Gaheris felt as though he was walking on air as he turned to go and-

"Stop."

He stopped; Kay was glaring at him, obviously unhappy, and Gaheris felt himself begin to deflate. The albatross looked back to the sign, staring at it for a long time as the wind started to blow harder around them, finally able to reach through Gaheris' armor and chill him.

"Erm…" He coughed, repressing the urge to shiver. "Do you… perhaps… need some assistance with-"

"No!" Kay snapped, his feathers bristling even as the winds threatened to flatten them back down. "I can read this! I'm not stupid!"

Gaheris shrunk back. "I… I did not mean to imply…"

The growing noise of the wind drowned out his apology, and as Kay tore himself away from the sign, stomping past Gaheris without so much as a sideways glance, all semblance of the armadillo's earlier good mood had vanished.

Now all he could think about was how he was still in the wrong kingdom, how he had no idea how to work with Sir Kay, how he was cold and how the wind was pushing him onto his bad leg, how he didn't have his cane with him because he was supposed to be in Spiral Kingdom with Galahad, how even when he did get to a town, there was no one in charge to tell him about the emerald, nor to make any decisions about what to do with it…

All at once, everything seemed impossible once more.

Gotta love some new points of view, am I right?

Character and lore bits!

The Kingdom of Carhaix is named after Carhaix, a duchy of Brittany in medieval times and a commune in France today. Supposedly, Carhaix is the setting of some of the first feats of King Arthur, as well as where he first met Guinevere, but I'll be honest, I picked the name entirely because of its resemblance to 'Chaotix'.

Conan Meriadoc was the founder and ruler of the duchy of Brittany in the 4th century (close to the time Arthur was supposedly king), and so that's the name I took for the king of Carhaix. For casting, I chose Ray the Flying Squirrel, as another nod at the original Chaotix, and as a way of showing that Arthur is far from the only one to be crowned young in this world.

And you can't have France without Antoine D'Coolette, so there he is, acting as advisor to the king!

Caerleon is a place in Wales with a lot of ties to Arthurian legend, as a setting in story by Geoffrey of Monmouth, and so it became a setting in this one as well.

A little cameo from Sticks the Jungle Badger as... the jungle badger with the stick. A little way to introduce the situation at Caerleon, and a way to get Gaheris thinking, as well as establish a character moment for him.

Borrum is the God of Wind in this universe, supposedly named after a Celtic wind god. Thanks to the input of several silly friends, I can now only imagine him as an intangible rainbow in the shape of Paul Blart Mall Cop's face and with the voice of Paul Rudd. Thanks Discord.

And yes, everyone gets last names and coats of arms now. I have lists.

Next chapter: Galahad struggles even more as Geraint proves to be too infuriating to handle; Tristan and Gareth are pleased to find themselves in such a beautiful land, but something seems off...