In the tranquil embrace of twilight, a vast, primordial swamp unfolded. Its shallow waters, stained with the hues of the crimson sky, mirrored the celestial spectacle above. Moss-covered stones, vine-clad ruins, and lush mangrove forests, their twisted roots reaching the murky depths, painted an eerie but serene scene. The air was thick with the scent of decay, punctuated by an owl's distant, mournful hoot. In this mystical setting, Purnama and Suria, the adventurous twins, found themselves on a journey of discovery.
As the crickets' stridulations filled the air, a spectral aura descended upon the land. Here, human souls, tethered to earthly memories, lingered at twilight. Invisible to mortal eyes, the Celestion perceived these wandering Atman, yet the spirits remained oblivious to the living, trapped in their void of recollection.
A translucent spirit, veiled in a colorful dust speck, drifted through the scene. Purnama and Suria passed through the spirits without disturbance, their presence unnoticed by the ghostly figures. Suria reached for one of the mysterious figures, but her hand passed through it like a wisp of smoke.
For a brief moment, the ruin in the swamp projected a vivid vision of its original state: a bustling town with lined cottages, a manor house, and shops built with sturdy bricks.
"A remarkable sight, Purnama," Suria whispered, her voice filled with awe and curiosity as she observed the spirits.
The spirits seemed content, their memories serving as a comforting companion in their ghostly existence. Their ethereal forms, bathed in the twilight's glow, radiated a sense of tranquility and acceptance.
"Evil souls won't hesitate to knock on Darkseed's door as soon as they die to become one of them, while the good or lost ones are always welcomed to Rona," Purnama explained. "And here are the souls that reject both paths, choosing to linger where their memories and loved ones once were."
"It's kind of dull, though, watching all this but not being able to interact," Suria remarked, spreading her arms toward the specters.
"I agree. If we could communicate with them, imagine the knowledge we'd gain. I heard Aurea is developing a device for that in Alexandrite," Purnama added.
"That would be amazing! I'd start by asking them where their treasure is hidden!"
"You'd better hurry then—these spirits only appear during twilight," Purnama replied with a smile.
Then, the lingering souls faded like fleeting forms as twilight deepened, leaving a silent, eerie stillness behind. The vibrant scene that had once illuminated the swamp vanished into the encroaching darkness.
Ahead, Purnama spotted a cluster of towering trees, their silhouettes rising like sentinels against the misty sky. The twins pushed through the dense undergrowth, their chappals squelching into the muddy terrain. The trees grew taller and denser, forming a canopy, blocking most of the moonlight and casting the forest floor into deep shadow. The air was cool and refreshing, a welcome respite from the swamp's oppressive heat.
The twins cleaned their feet in a puddle of water, gathered dry branches from the ground, and kindled a bonfire. While Suria flicked her finger to ignite the flames, the eerie snap of twigs pierced the silence, startling them.
Klak!
"Who's there?!"
From a dark path, a knight stepped out of the shadows. His steam-powered iron armor glinted and clanked with each approaching step, hands raised in surrender.
"Greetings, noble Purnama and Lady Suria. We have long awaited your arrival."
His speech carried a hint of archaic language reminiscent of ancient legends.
"Huh? Who are you? How do you know our names?" Suria asked.
"...You mentioned we. Who are you referring to?" Purnama added, his eyes narrowing slightly, keeping himself on guard.
The knight's hands lowered. A sudden gust of wind stirred the trees, urging the bonfire to life and revealing the intricate craftsmanship of his suit—the gleaming metal plates, the whirring gears, and the gentle exhalation of steam from its connections. His helm, a Leviathan's head, held large, glowing eyes that seemed to bore into the night.
"I am Lancelot, a knight of the realm," the knight replied, his voice firm. "All your questions shall be answered in due time. For now, follow me. Your friend, Sir Gema, awaits you."
Without waiting for further questions, Lancelot turned and slowly began walking back where he had come.
"Wait, WHAT? Gema!?"
Upon hearing the name, Purnama and Suria were taken aback, and without much thought, they followed. Curiosity about the connection between Gema and the mysterious knight led them forward.
Making a torch from the bonfire, they embarked on a journey through the forest. The crackling flames illuminated their path as they ventured deeper into the unknown.
Exiting the woods, they found themselves on a bleak, windswept plain. The wind howled a mournful dirge, echoing the distant, haunting wails of wolves. The torches flickered and died in the gusts, plunging the barren landscape into a chilling darkness.
A solitary, moss-covered boulder stood sentinel on the plain, its ancient, gnarled form a lonely monument amidst the surrounding desolation. Lancelot approached and he placed his hand on the boulder's cold, rough surface, feeling a surge of warm, pulsating energy coursing through his body. A blue aura emanated from Lancelot, enveloping the boulder in a soft, ethereal glow. The rock split open, revealing a hidden passage that beckoned them onward. The path was narrow and winding, leading them deeper into the heart of the hill.
"After you," he said, gesturing towards the narrow passage.
"Well, that's strange... I didn't think a mere Atman could control Shakti. What are you anyway, Lancelot? A hybrid or something?"
"We shall explain all, Lady Suria. Please, they await your presence," Lancelot responded, avoiding a direct answer.
The three stepped inside, and the rock sealed itself behind them.
"You know, if this turns out to be some kind of trick, I will crush whatever this place is and bury you along with whoever is inside," Suria warned, walking cautiously down the narrow path.
As they proceeded, the passageway grew larger and brighter. A shadowy figure approached from a distance.
"And there you are, my beloved friends!" Called a familiar, cheerful voice.
From the shadows emerged a man. He wore a maroon long-sleeved jacket with gold satin seams, a black wavy patch adorned with a four-cornered star and crescent moon on the jacket arm, black inner garments, and an arch-design black samping tied around his waist, partially concealing the hilt of his kris. His long maroon pants were sewn with gold satin on the hemline. He had dark green hair and eyes, though one of his eyes was hidden behind a triangular eyepatch embroidered with the same four-cornered star and crescent moon design.
Purnama and Suria lit up upon seeing their long-lost friend. They had always been on the same mission team before, but Gema had withdrawn from the Kshatriya due to personal matters.
"Hey! Long time no see, Gema! Wait... did you become shorter or something? It looks like you did. And what are you doing inside this weird rock anyway?" Suria asked with a grin.
"Glad to see you, Gema," Purnama added, shaking Gema's hand warmly.
"Purnama, Suria, it's great to see both of you again! We can catch up later, but now we need to hurry. They—and I—need your help." Gema replied, rubbing his head sheepishly. "Let me introduce you to the Avalon Knights—or, as the old folks called them, the Knights of the Round Table."
"Knights... someone we met did mention that to us before back in Jyala," Purnama said, his eyes widening in recognition.
"Good that you heard about them. At least you know they're on our side. We'll fight together again, just like in the old days. Come, follow me," Gema replied, leading them deeper into the rocky cavern.
"Wait—fight? Hey, come back here, shorty! You owe us an explanation!" Suria called after him, her voice filled with annoyance. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated. "Do we need to fight for them? Do we even have time for this? Tambora, Skyrea... looks like our hands are full of things to do," Suria continued, her tone growing more agitated.
"Let's stay patient. We don't know what's happening yet."
Their attention was drawn to an open area ahead. A massive stone table dominated the hall's center, its surface scarred and weathered by time yet commanding respect. Embedded at the table's heart, a gleaming sword jutted from the stone like a beacon of lost power. Surrounding the table sat nine imposing knights, their forms encased in full steam-powered medieval armor, each exhaling a steady hiss of machinery. The cold air in the room pressed down, thick with the echoes of countless battles and long-forgotten vows.
A knight stood apart, his helm crafted in the fierce likeness of a dragon, its snout extending forward. A weathered red cloak, emblazoned with the white symbol of a dragon, hung from his broad shoulders. His golden armor gleamed in the dim light, exuding majesty and power.
He sat on a throne-like stone chair, its armrests intricately carved with dragons, their stone scales catching the flicker of fire torches. His presence was undeniable—legendary, even in the stillness.
"Welcome, my celestial companions. Gather now at the table of the undying." His voice broke the hiss of the room. It reverberated like distant thunder—deep, resonant, a voice that could command armies or whisper forgotten truths.
His knights, clad in identical iron armor gleaming with gold filigree, sat in a circle. Their helms, shaped like the heads of mystical creatures, bore testament to their ancient lineage. The knights held their swords inverted in their right hands, the tips resting on the cold stone floor.
"I am Arthur," he declared, his voice steady and rich with the gravitas of a king who had not only ruled but transcended death. "Once, I was the king of this land and these—" he gestured to his knights, their helms nodding ever so slightly, "—were my most trusted warriors. They swore their lives to this realm. Though we have passed from the mortal coil, our oath has not wavered."
The atmosphere thickened, carrying the weight of the ages. The knight beside Arthur, his helm shaped like the head of a minotaur, tightened his gauntlet around the hilt of his sword. Another knight, his helm resembling a hydra, shifted slightly. The clink of his armor echoed like the rustling of ancient bones, a reminder of the undying burden they bore.
"A curse binds us to this place," Arthur continued, his tone resonating through the stone halls like the final toll of a great bell. "Though our bodies sleep in the grave, our souls rise again when this land cries out for protectors. So long as darkness reigns, we will answer. We are not dead—not in truth. Our loyalty transcends even death itself. And we shall not rest until it is free."
Arthur's gaze fell upon the newcomers, an invitation in his eyes.
"And you, Purnama and Suria, are the answer to this land's final cry."
Gema stepped forward, calm and composed.
"I was here on a mission, and they wouldn't let me leave unless I helped. I told them that two of my strongest friends were on their way. With your help, we can bring peace back to this land."
"Why, you little…! And here we are, roped into your mess." Suria scowled, annoyed.
Purnama, more focused, eyed Gema.
"I know you, Gema. You stayed for a reason. Since you knew we were coming, you must've met Ria."
Arthur turned his gaze upon Purnama, then shifted it to Suria.
"I know this battle is not yours to bear. None of us foresaw facing a malaise that hails from beyond our world. Yet, within this darkness lies something that belongs to you, Suria—something only you can reclaim." His voice resonated with timeless weight.
Suria blinked in surprise.
"The Darkseed we speak of is Kelembai. And it possesses your kris, the legendary Gerhana. It was employed in a manner most foul to amplify the potency of the Darkseed's essence. That is why this battle has been so arduous."
The revelation left Purnama and Suria frozen in shock, their minds reeling from the unexpected news. Gema, on the other hand, stood quietly, observing their reactions.
"That kris should only be in your hands, Suria," Gema said.
Suria narrowed her eyes and glanced.
"And what's in this for you, Gema?"
The other knights turned their sight to Gema, awaiting his response. A long, tense silence followed before Gema sighed deeply.
"I'm going to fight like in the good old days with my beloved friends!" Gema exclaimed with excitement.
Despite their iron helms, the knights around the table seemed to sigh in unison as if they had expected Gema's response.
"He wants my sword—the Excalibur," Arthur said calmly, gesturing to the sword in the stone before them.
Gema's excitement faded as Purnama and Suria turned their eyes to him, suspicion apparent in their gazes.
"Alright, fine, fine. It's for Ria. She asked for it, but I don't know exactly what she wants to do with Excalibur," Gema admitted, pointing toward the legendary blade.
Purnama nodded thoughtfully.
"...If it's for Ria, that does make sense. She's always been drawn to strange and powerful things. But I'm guessing she promised you something in return for your help, didn't she?"
Gema looked away, clearly uncomfortable.
"Err... yes, but I'll explain everything when the time is right. Not now."
Suria, sensing the tension, yawned loudly.
"Well, I'm just letting you know enough of this. I'm exhausted. Can we at least get some rest before we dive into all these plans and battles?"
"Galahad shall escort you to your rest chamber. Tomorrow, we march forth to Avalon. Rest well, my celestial companions." He signaled Galahad, who led the twins and Gema to a quiet resting area, providing them a warm place to sleep.
The knights of the Round Table remained seated, deep in discussion about the mission ahead.
"This will be our final battle, my fellow knights. May glory be with us, and may your souls finally find peace," said Arthur, his voice echoing through the chamber.
A golden flame aura could be seen through his dragon-shaped iron helm, illuminating his determined expression. In unison, the Round Table knights let out a thunderous roar, their voices filled with determination and defiance.