Five minutes earlier, a portal had shattered space inside Merlin's tower.
Gawain's white armor, coated in so much blood that it could be called scarlet without anyone noticing, emerged.
Weary, wounded, he dragged Merlin's bloodied figure to a chair, carefully clutching the mage's fingers around an ancient golden chalice encrusted with jewels that shone like stars. After all, they couldn't drop its content after a month of relentless search, cowardly infiltrations, and battles. And what battles! Each shook the foundation of his beliefs, especially the last one.
He had also seen kingdoms livelier than Camelot and met creatures he would have killed without second thoughts in the past. Yet, he had discovered that some were gentler than humans. They had forged brief yet meaningful bonds during his quest, each softening his rigid heart a little more. But even amidst the brightest light, shadows loomed like voracious beasts.
