Swords Will

Chapter Fifteen: Faster then I expected

The transition from the Teutonian coast to the Gallian terrain was unmistakable. The once rugged and rocky coastline of Teutonia gradually gave way to a more diverse and picturesque landscape as the Golden Hare continued on its course westward. The crew members, including the trio of Arthur, Erlan, and Astrid, observed this change in scenery with keen interest.

The Gallian coast revealed itself as a captivating blend of rolling hills and verdant meadows that stretched down to meet the golden sands of the shoreline. The sky overhead was a brilliant shade of blue, and the sun bathed the landscape in warm, inviting light. The change in scenery was a welcome sight for the crew, a temporary respite from the unpredictable and often perilous waters they had navigated.

As the ship sailed closer to the Gallian coast, they could see small fishing villages dotting the shoreline. Boats were moored in the calm waters, and locals were going about their daily routines, seemingly unfazed by the passing vessel. The peaceful scene was a stark contrast to the looming dangers of Iberia that lay ahead.

The trio watched as the crew adjusted the sails to harness the coastal breeze, keeping the ship on its steady course. It was a well-practiced routine, and the ship continued to glide smoothly through the water, following the coastline as it meandered along.

Despite the idyllic scenery of Gallia, the crew remained vigilant. The crewmembers who were not attending to their duties kept a watchful eye on the horizon, scanning for any signs of other vessels or potential obstacles. The coastline's gentle rise and fall created a serene backdrop, but the knowledge of the challenges that awaited them in Iberia weighed on the minds of all aboard.

The Golden Hare sailed gracefully along the Gallian coast, an oasis of calm amid the tumultuous seas of their quest. The trio contemplated the path that lay ahead, with the war-torn land of Iberia drawing nearer with each passing nautical mile.

In the solitude of his king's cabin, Arthur sat at the desk, a glass of the royal wine before him, a moment of respite from the rigors of their quest. He had taken the time to indulge in the luxury of the wine, a welcome departure from the roughness of the ship's rum. It was a small pleasure that brought a sense of comfort and familiarity, a link to the life he had left behind as the king of Albion.

With a thoughtful gaze, he held his journal in his hands, pages filled with intricate sketches and detailed depictions of the Sword of Divinity. The pages told a story of his obsession with this ancient artifact, the one he believed held the power to unite a divided world. His fingers traced the lines of the drawings as he silently contemplated his life's passion.

"Such a magnificent blade," he whispered to himself, as if in conversation with the intricate illustrations. "The Sword of Divinity, the key to forging a better world." His voice held a hint of reverence, a fervent belief in the sword's potential to bring about the change he so desired.

Arthur continued to speak to the drawings in his journal, almost as if the pages held the answers he sought. "I've come so far in search of this relic. It's my duty as a king to unite the lands, to end the conflicts, to bring peace. And the Sword of Divinity is the way to achieve that."

He raised his glass, taking a sip of the wine, the rich flavor dancing on his palate. "But at what cost? The pursuit of power is fraught with danger. I must tread carefully, for I fear that my obsession may blind me to the truths that lie along this treacherous path."

As he contemplated his journey and the looming challenges in Iberia, Arthur's voice held a sense of inner conflict. The Sword of Divinity was his dream, his vision of a united world, but it was also a heavy burden. In the quiet of his cabin, the king was left with the weight of his responsibilities, both as a ruler and as an individual on a perilous quest.