Arthur awoke before dawn.
The decision had taken three sleepless nights. Three nights of discipline arguing with ambition. Three nights of duty arguing with duty.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the folded blue ribbon Anastasia had given him.
Amer would still be there in a month.
Sir Calden would still be a legend in a month.
But the Royal Tourney happened only once each year.
And Arthur had spent half his life preparing for it.
For the first time in days, the answer seemed obvious.
He stood.
Today he would invite Anastasia to watch the mock battle.
He would enter the tourney.
Win properly.
Then depart for Amer with honor.
The training grounds were already awake when he arrived.
Knights sparred in organized pairs. Squires carried equipment. Armor gleamed beneath the morning sun.
Arthur's master stood near the fencing circle.
"You've decided."
Arthur nodded.
"I will compete."
The old knight studied him carefully.
Then smiled.
Not broadly.
Just enough.
"I wondered how long it would take you."
Arthur frowned.
"You expected this?"
"I expected you to remember that discipline serves purpose."
His master adjusted his gloves.
"Not the other way around."
Arthur considered that quietly.
The words bothered him slightly.
Which usually meant they were true.
He found Anastasia near the eastern gardens.
She was reading; Or pretending to.
The book had not changed pages since he arrived.
"You are doing that thing again," she said.
"What thing?"
"The one where you stare at a problem until it surrenders."
Arthur sat beside her.
"I will enter the tournament."
The book immediately closed.
Anastasia's smile arrived before she could stop it.
"Good."
Three days later the mock battle was held.
The entire palace attended.
Nobles filled wooden stands.
Servants crowded balconies.
Arthur stood armored in polished steel.
Across from him waited four experienced knights.
The exercise was simple.
Survive.
Win if possible.
His master stood beside the arena fence.
"You invited the princess?"
Arthur nodded.
"Then try not to embarrass yourself."
The horn sounded.
Arthur moved immediately.
One knight advanced too aggressively.
Arthur redirected the strike.
Second opponent.
Shield impact.
Pivot.
Counter.
The crowd cheered.
Anastasia watched from the front row.
Smiling.
For once Arthur felt everything exactly where it belonged.
Training.
Competition.
Purpose.
The future arranged neatly ahead.
Then the gates opened.
Nobody noticed at first.
A messenger entered at a run.
His pace alone silenced the crowd.
Arthur knew immediately.
Messengers never ran during royal events.
Not unless something had gone wrong.
Very wrong.
The man reached the royal platform.
Delivered a sealed document.
The king read it.
His expression changed.
The tourney suddenly felt very far away.
Arthur stood before the throne less than an hour later.
Anastasia stood nearby.
His master stood nearby.
The king held the letter.
"Amer."
Arthur's stomach tightened.
The king continued.
"Sir Calden has disappeared."
Silence.
The room seemed smaller suddenly.
"He was last seen near the interior territories."
The king folded the letter.
"Gilhard has requested assistance."
Arthur straightened immediately.
"When do we depart?"
The king almost smiled.
"That was not a request."
The harbor exploded into activity.
Supplies loaded.
Officers assembled.
Sailors shouted.
Arthur had imagined many departures.
His armor felt heavier than usual.
A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
"You look disappointed."
Arthur turned.
Anastasia stood carrying a travel pack.
Arthur stared.
"No."
"My Highness, I think you are on the wrong ship."
"No, I am on the right one."
Arthur blinked.
"The captain approved it."
"The captain cannot approve that."
"He already did."
Arthur closed his eyes.
When he opened them again Anastasia was still there.
Which was unfortunate.
"This is dangerous."
"So is staying."
"This is serious."
Anastasia nodded.
"So am I."
Arthur searched desperately for a reasonable argument.
Anastasia waited patiently.
He found none.
The ship's horn echoed across the harbor.
Crew members rushed aboard.
Ropes loosened.
Sails unfolded.
Arthur looked toward the city one final time.
The tournament grounds stood visible in the distance.
Unfinished.
Unclaimed.
For a brief moment he imagined staying.
Winning.
Proposing.
The life he had planned.
Then another image appeared.
A missing general.
An unanswered question.
A road that refused to wait.
Arthur exhaled slowly.
The ship began moving.
Behind them, Bredania grew smaller.
Ahead of them lay Amer.
Neither of them knew that somewhere within those distant mountains, Tez had just been banished from his tribe.
Nor that across the sea, Shifu was preparing to leave Kyouyen.
Nor that in Orvane, Sancio and Jack were packing entirely too many boxes.
The threads of their lives had not met.
Yet.
But the sea had begun gathering them all in the same direction.