Camelford village was brimming with activity.

Just a few weeks ago such a thing would almost seem absurd, but now, looking over grinning faces and raucous laughter, it was hard to deny that some sort of change had befallen the once sleepy residence.

Maybe it was a result of their brief brush with death, but the villagers seemed to have regained a vigour long thought lost. Hunched backs and pale skin had become things of the past, now replaced with the life-filled eyes of smiling children, a backdrop lit by ambient voices.

The village had regained some echoes of its former splendour, and lying within the centre stood the catalyst of this change.

A warrior trudged through familiar streets with a strained grin, wary eyes darting left and right, attempting to speedwalk past the large groups of his newfound 'admirers'.

"Ah, there he is!"

"Praise be!"

"Radiant as ever, Lord Raphael!"

Sadly, his figure did not lend itself particularly well to stealth, and the man was besieged on all sides by ardent followers.

'Not again…'

The praise had been expected at first. None could deny that it was he who had saved the village, that it was his blade that had sought out the throats of evil, and that it was by his hand that none were harmed in the wake of the bandit's assault. The ease with which Raphael had acted remained irrelevant, for the gratitude of fearful men came easily and without compunctions.

The villagers had thanked him, of course, but unlike the man's previous experiences, their gratefulness seemed only to increase by the day. As time went by, their fervorous whisperings grew and grew until it had become hard to even walk the streets without being stopped or grovelled before.

It had already ceased to be amusing.

The warrior looked into the shining eyes of the gathered crowd, and contemplated running away.

'A strategic retreat!' His mind corrected, although even that wasn't able to dampen the feeling of embarrassment.

He was the Elden Lord, vanquisher of beasts, slayer of gods and mortals alike! He was not about to be defeated by a mob of over-eager civilians, was he?!

Raphael wondered what Boggart would say if he was with him, before dismissing the thought almost instantly.

'I bet he would just laugh at me, bloody bastard that he is.'

Resigning himself once more to another hour of impassioned praise, the man sighed, before opening his mouth to address the devout mass.

He was interrupted before a word even left his lips.

"Hey, come over here for a sec. There's something I want to show you."

Salvation came not with the the sound of heavenly trumpets, or by a concourse of angels on high, but instead with firm grip and soft hands, tugging his body away from the enraptured crowd.

It took Raphael a second to regain his bearings, but when he did he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.

He had recognised the person almost instantly.

"What a daring rescue! Why, I would be hard pressed to find another within this land as gallant as you!"

Grey eyes narrowed into slits, an impression that might have been worrying if not for the subtle upturn of the person's lips.

"Just hurry up, I'm not in the mood for any of your sass today."

Raphael nodded his head in a sage-like manner, as if contemplating a matter of great importance.

"If the lady desires it, then what can I do but obey?"

"The lady desires you to shut up, if such a thing is even possible."

He made a zipping motion over grinning mouth, an action that only garnered a put-upon sigh from his companion.

The two fell into a comfortable silence for a while, both of them lost in thought as they walked. After they had made suitable distance from the crowd, Evelyn slowed the pace of her strides, and let out a contemplative hum.

"Things aren't going to get any better, y'know… There's already talk about you being some sort of divine messenger -an angel, if you will. Such beliefs will only escalate from here on out."

"An angel? Surely you must be mistaken! I am but a humble soul, a simple man of the cloth."

Evelyn stared, bafflement writ plainly across her features. She looked at his golden pauldrons, immaculate features and smug smile, before leveraging an accusing finger.

"A 'man of the cloth', huh? Do you think of me as some sort of dullard?! What kind of priest is able to summon weapons out of thin air, o-or shoot golden light from his fingertips?!"

Raphael rubbed at the back of his head in a sheepish manner.

"Err… A pious one?"

The girl snorted, both incredulity and amusement combined into one barking noise.

"Bullshit."

"Hey, I'm being serious here! My power really comes from the strength of my faith!"

Evelyn shook her head, ready to deny his claims, before stopping herself midway. When it came to dealing with Raphael, common sense was better thrown out for all the good it would serve.

She had seen much stranger things than that anyway

"Whatever, it doesn't matter right now. We're almost here."

Past a corner and through some trees lay a clearing with a large rock sat in the middle. Around it were nearly all of the children of the village, huddled around the object and whispering to each other in hushed voices. It was certainly a strange sight, one that the warrior had a hard time deciphering the meaning of - yet, from what glimpses he could see, it seemed as if the stone had been marked in some way, the fragments of chalk dotted throughout the grass only cementing this belief.

The children startled as soon as they noticed their approach, separating from each other in a panic borne from embarrassment. A few twiddled their thumbs, others milled around aimlessly, some even began staring directly at their feet, inspecting their shoes with awkward interest. It was a different face compared to the usual hellions Raphael was used to dealing with, this uncharacteristic shyness at odds with their usual energy.

It was enough to tug up at the corners of his lips.

"Well, well well… What's with all the gormless looks? I have it on good authority that there is something here I am supposed to witness, yet right now all I can see is a big rock and an army of little soldiers guarding it."

They seemed to almost preen at this compliment, puffing out chests and standing as tall as their youth would allow them. The oldest one, his age seeming to make him the leader of this group, stepped forward upon trembling legs.

"W-we made something for you, i-if you would like to see it…"

The boy trailed off into silence, and an encouraging look from Evelyn led the man to stride past the throngs of children towards the rock.

Curious eyes tracked his every movement, lips worrying in anticipation until he finally stopped and took in their work.

A second past, then two, yet Raphael had not uttered a single sound of either approval or dissent. They waited a few more moments in nervous silence, before a little girl spoke up for the rest of the crowd.

"Umm… D-do you like it Mister?"

"Hmm…"

Raphael stared at an image that seemed strangely nostalgic, despite it being of a scene he had never witnessed before within his lifetime. It was a crude drawing, all harsh white lines upon craggy rock, yet it was not without its charm, and he could tell that real effort had gone into its making. It seemed a depiction of a giant circular table, with eleven stick figures sat upon chairs all around it. Each was dressed in some attempt at knightly armour, all of them identical save for one, which had a crown placed atop their head.

At the head of the table, stood next to the presumed king, lay etched what could only be called a likeness of Raphael himself. With armour that seemed somewhat similar in design to his own, long hair, and a halo above his head, the warrior was captured with his arms outstretched and bathed in some sort of aura, as if he was bestowing something upon this world.

Even if it was poorly drawn, even if it was composed from the mind of a child, something about the piece resonated deep inside him, like an echo endlessly rebounding in an empty tunnel.

Unbidden, a small smile came to his face.

"I do. I do indeed."

The children let out a collective sigh of relief, finally at ease with the man's verdict. Before they could start celebrating though, Raphael turned to address the crowd, and asked a seemingly innocuous question.

"Say, what is the name of this piece? Every work of art should have its own title, after all…"

It seemed that this was something the children hadn't yet decided on, for they fell silent almost instantly, causing the man to shake his head in exasperation.

"Never mind, you can think of one later. I am curious though… Where did you get the inspiration for this image? It seems familiar for some reason…"

The children seemed confused at this declaration, as if the basis for their work was something everyone knew of.

"It's supposed to be Camelot, Mister! King Arthur, his loyal knights, the round table… All of that, y'know?"

'The round table?!'

Once again Raphael was hit with a burst of strange resonance, although this time he was certain of the cause. The warrior turned once more, laying his eyes upon the stone, and took in the drawing with a newfound perspective. Now that he looked closer, it really was uncannily familiar with the one place he had had the privilege of calling home.

A vision of gold passed over his eyes, and this time, when he smiled, it was tinged with a note of something unfathomable.

'It seemed that old saying was right, after all; that the more things change, the more they stay the same…''

If there ever was a constant between worlds, Raphael could not think of a better place it could be than the Roundtable Hold.

/

Contrary to most people, Evelyn Waterford rather liked the rain. Of course, many that she knew liked the concept of rain - for without it, she knew, crops would be a lot harder to grow- but most did not much enjoy actually being outside in the middle of it.

She could understand why, of course. There was nothing nice about having to come home with sodden clothes, and the rain itself was often associated with unhappy feelings, although why exactly this was has remained something she had been unable to solve to this day.

The words of her mother echoed clearly through troubled mind, the girl rushing over cobbled streets to the steady drone of raindrops.

Evelyn had known it was coming, but the speed with which it had happened had been almost too fast to process. Maybe it was the battle, the villagers' growing idolisation of him, or even something else entirely; in the end though, it didn't really matter. After she took him to see the children's art that day, it was as if something within him had shifted.

He acted the same as always for the most part, but it was hard to miss how many questions he proposed towards the topic of Camelot and the Round Table these days. His interest never seemed to wane, and that, when combined with his growing restlessness… well, it didn't take a genius to figure out what was going to happen.

She rounded a corner with stuttering step, almost losing her balance, before righting herself and rushing forwards once more

Just as she had known, just as she had feared, there was no escaping the simple fact that Raphael was destined to leave this town.

Upon his spectral steed, illumined by the light of the moon, a figure of gold sat next to the village gates, staring off into the night.

A few hurried steps, a final heaving breath, and Evelyn had reached him. She was bent over double and panting from exertion, yet the figure remained facing away, as if undisturbed by her arrival.

She took a few seconds to catch her breath, before speaking.

"Raphael, I…"

Evelyn trailed off, for her tongue had become like lead in her mouth. She had been sure of herself before - sure of what to say, sure of what to do, how to act and what to ask - yet as soon as she was in his presence everything seemed to just wash away, leaving her at a loss for words.

A moment passed in infinite silence, before the figure turned around.

Crimson orbs blazed with holy fire.

"Hmm? Is there something on your mind, Evelyn?"

His tone was light, yet his eyes told a different story, holding within them an uncharacteristic intensity she found hard to place.

Swallowing her nerves with an audible sound, Evelyn gathered herself before replying.

"I… When are you leaving?"

A sardonic smile formed on his face, as the man let out a small breath.

"I really am obvious, aren't I… Never was good with all that sneaking around stuff, y'know, not much point in it if you ask me…"

Raphael let out a short bark of laughter, before propping his chin up on a single hand.

"I wanted to leave tonight, in truth. Less pain in it that way."

Evelyn's eyes widened in shock.

"Tonight?! You haven't even said goodbye to anyone!"

The man sighed, his normally youthful features seeming to age all of a sudden.

"I left a note for old Gareth, but anything more than that and I would never be able to leave. You've seen how they have been acting recently, Evelyn, their behaviour towards me has gone far past simple gratitude. It pains me to do such a thing, but in the end I have little choice left."

The girl shook her head in denial, as if rejecting the truth of his words, yet the man carried on heedless.

"I apologise, Evelyn, but this is the way it has to be. You'll say goodbye to the children for me, won't you?"

Raphael turned away, as if to begin his journey once more, before pausing in thought. He looked back over at Evelyn with a curious eye.

"Say, now that you're here… How did you find me in the first place? I would have known if you were following me."

Evelyn opened her mouth to answer, before freezing in place.

'Wait… How did I know?'

She had not seen him, she had not heard him, there had been no rumours of his departure and she certainly couldn't track his footsteps in the rain, so how? How had she known where to find him? She had suspicions he might leave, of course, but there was never anything concrete to them.

She tried to wrack her brain for a solution, for something, anything to explain her actions, but there was nothing forthcoming.

Well, nothing that was rational at least…

"I just…I just had a feeling."

And it was the truth. There was nothing else to it but a simple hunch, a tugging feeling within her gut that had led her towards the village gates. It might have sounded ridiculous, but there was no other explanation to give.

Contrary to her expectations however, Raphael neither laughed nor derided her, rather choosing to let out a contemplative hum.

"I see… How seems your instincts are quite sharp, Evelyn. Keep them polished, for in this life, such a gift is worth its weight in gold."

And with that, underneath a thousand shimmering stars, Raphael gave out one last smile.

"I bid you farewell, Evelyn. May we meet again someday, under better circumstances."

The soft sound of hooves on mud echoed like a bell through her mind.

Huh?

He was actually… Leaving? Just like that?

Stop…

She tried to speak, to scream, to shout out to the heavens about the unfairness of the situation, yet her throat remained choked up and unresponsive, heedless to her wants.

Stop.

With every passing second he got further and further away, disappearing like a ghost into the fog. The distance between them was but a few metres, yet to Evelyn it felt more like an unending chasm, a void which separated her from the source of all her current feelings.

Stop!

Every rebellious thought, every wish for escape, every night spent staring at the horizon, wishing for a change within her monotonous life; Raphael was the embodiment of her very hopes and dreams. If he left, then she knew there would be no more chances. He would ride off into the sunset like a hero, and Evelyn Waterford would be left as nothing more than a footnote in the tales told of his character.

"STOP!"

Above all else, Evelyn refused to let her ambitions die here.

"Take me with you!"

The warrior halted in his tracks, turning around in his seat with widened eyes.

"I don't care what I have to do, but please, I beg of you, at least consider my request. You said yourself that anyone could become a knight, but you know such a thing can never happen within that village. You must-"

"Sure, you can come along if you like."

"-believe me, I… Huh?"

Evelyn stared at the grinning man in quiet bafflement. All of that buildup, all of those sleepless nights, and in the end it barely took him five seconds to accept? She didn't really think he was going to just shrug her off, but she hadn't much anticipated such an easy acceptance either.

The man pushed a few locks of wet hair out of his face, before making a shooing motion towards the dumbstruck girl.

"Get a bag and come quickly, if I stay out here any longer I'm going to shrivel up like a prune."

She took a second or two to absorb his words, but as soon as she did she nodded her head frantically and rushed off back to her house.

Her face was lit with a giddy smile the entire time.

AN:

This chapter should have been out a few days ago, but I ended up rewriting most of this chapter over 3 times, and even now I don't know if I am properly happy with it. If I don't post now though I think I'm gonna go insane. Anyway, thank you guys a lot for the support, I truly do appreciate every comment you guys leave

To the guy who asked about crucible wings, I have your back ^^