Arthur's Odyssey :Rise of the King

The winds howled as Elyan descended from the sky, his boots crunching against the frosted grass of the Southern Continent's northernmost border. The air crackled with the remnants of his Ice affinity, the temperature dropping several degrees as his aura briefly flared.

Before him, a figure strode forward through the haze of the battlefield,the unmistakable presence of Uther Pendragon. His golden armor glinted against the pale light of the setting sun, and the faint hum of draconic energy resonated in the air, his spirit wings folding neatly behind him as he landed with an effortless grace.

Elyan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "I never expected you to come yourself, Uther. Your mana signature could be felt a continent away."

Uther smirked as he approached, his piercing gaze meeting Elyan's. "And yet here I am. Consider it a gesture of unwavering support... or a chance to stretch my wings."

Elyan crossed his arms, the faintest grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I suppose I owe you one, then. You must have had to leave the northern continent vulnerable to make it here so quickly."

"I trust my people," Uther replied simply, his tone calm yet resolute. "Besides, I've always believed in meeting a storm head-on rather than waiting for it to crash upon my doorstep. The Night Elves' actions demand more than just a strategic response,they require unity."

Elyan nodded, his expression growing serious. "Indeed, the scale of these attacks... even for me, it's becoming untenable. The Eastern, Western, and now Northern borders are all under simultaneous assault. Their forces are relentless, and I can't be everywhere at once."

"And that," Uther said, placing a firm hand on Elyan's shoulder, "is why I am here. Tell me everything you know about their movements, their tactics. Together, we will turn the tide."

Elyan gestured toward a nearby command tent, its entrance flanked by guards. "Follow me. We've secured the immediate area, but there's more you need to see. The Night Elves are playing a dangerous game, and I fear their true objective lies beyond these skirmishes."

As they entered the tent, the sound of hurried discussions and the rustling of maps filled the air. A large table dominated the center, laden with reports, tactical diagrams, and markers indicating enemy positions.

Elyan pointed to the map. "Here, here, and here,these are the main points of attack. The bulk of their forces are concentrated along the Eastern front, but smaller, more coordinated raids are striking along the Western border. It's as though they're testing our defenses while keeping us occupied."

Uther's brow furrowed as he studied the map. "Diversionary tactics. They're scattering your forces to weaken you. But why? What are they truly after?"

Elyan exhaled, his expression grim. "That's the question. And if we don't find the answer soon, the Southern Continent may not hold."

The two exchanged a glance, their mutual understanding unspoken yet palpable.

"Then we strike back," Uther said, his voice resolute. "Not just with power, but with strategy. We'll force their hand and uncover the truth."

Elyan smirked. "It's been a while since I fought alongside you, Pendragon. Let's see if you've still got that fire in you."

Uther's lips curled into a faint smile. "You might be surprised."

With the weight of their continents resting on their shoulders, the two king stage expert prepared for what lay ahead. The battle was far from over, but united, they would ensure the tides turned in their favor.

In the meantime back in Camelot, Morgana approached Merlin, her expression set with determination. "Grandpa, may I join Arthur's training today?"

Merlin's face lit up with delight. "Of course, my dear! It would be an honor."

As Morgana joined the session, the air sparked with energy. Arthur watched his sister as she effortlessly manipulated lightning, arcs of electricity dancing between her fingers.

"Well done, Morgana," Merlin praised, pride evident in his tone. "Your control over lightning improves with every attempt. Now, let's shift focus to your water and gravity affinities. A strong foundation in all three will make you unstoppable."

Morgana nodded, but a flicker of hesitation crossed her face. She glanced down at her hands, fidgeting nervously. "Grandpa… may I ask you something?"

Merlin softened at her apprehension. "Of course, child. Speak freely."

Morgana hesitated, then looked up, her voice tinged with curiosity and longing. "Father… he rarely talks about Mom. I don't remember much about her, but once, he mentioned she was an extraordinary water awakener. He said people called her the False Scion of Water. Is that true? Was she really that talented?"

At the mention of Igraine, Merlin's expression darkened with sorrow, his gaze distant. For a moment, silence hung in the air as he gathered his thoughts.

"Yes, Morgana," he said at last, his voice heavy with emotion. "It's true. Your mother was extraordinary. Her talent with water affinity was unlike anything I've ever seen before. Like Arthur, she awakened with only one affinity, water in her case. But hers was… peculiar."

"How so?" Morgana asked, leaning in.

"Technically, her water affinity was of the ninth rank," Merlin explained. "But its power far exceeded what one would expect at that level. It was as if her affinity hovered on the precipice of perfection,caught between the ninth and the perfect grade. It wasn't just powerful; it was unparalleled. This unique trait earned her the nickname False Scion. She even developed a technique that mimicked the avatar of a perfect-grade affinity. While not as potent as a true avatar, it elevated her to heights that no one at her stage could hope to rival."

Arthur, who had just finished his training session, joined the conversation, intrigued. He sat beside Morgana, his interest piqued. "She created a technique like that? Was she stronger than Father?"

Merlin chuckled at the memory, the sorrow in his eyes momentarily replaced by fondness. "Oh, much stronger, child. At the same stage, your mother used to run circles around your father. Don't misunderstand me, your father was no slouch. Awakening at the age of four with two ninth-ranked affinities, lightning and gravity, he was considered a prodigy amongst prodigies. But Igraine… oh Igraine....she was on another level all together. She was the brightest star of her generation and the strongest of her rank, the closest anyone had come to the power and tale of a true Scion in the human domain."

Morgana and Arthur exchanged looks of astonishment. The thought of their mother outshining the formidable father , the legendary Uther Pendragon was almost impossible for them to imagine.

Merlin's gaze settled on Arthur, his voice becoming serious. "And that, Arthur, is what makes you so special. You are the second true Scion to ever appear among humanity. If your mother, without the blessing of a perfect-grade affinity, could reach such heights, can you even fathom the power you'll wield one day? Your potential eclipses anything this domain has ever seen."

Arthur's ice-blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of pride and determination. Morgana, too, found herself inspired, silently vowing to reach her own heights of greatness.

Morgana's brow furrowed, her curiosity deepening. "Wait… if Arthur is the second, and Mother wasn't one… then who was the first Scion?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He looked at Arthur, who avoided his gaze with an awkward shrug, before turning back to Morgana.

"Your brother didn't tell you?" Merlin asked, his voice laced with mock offense. "Well, my dear, allow me to enlighten you. I am the first Scion of humanity—the Scion of Fire."

Morgana's eyes widened in shock. "You? But you have four affinities! How…?"

Merlin chuckled, stroking his beard. "Indeed, I do, Fire, Earth, Wind, and Water, three of the ninth grade while my Fire affinity is perfect grade. It earned me the title of Scion and allowed me to ascend to heights unmatched in my time."

Arthur crossed his arms, smirking. "I didn't mention it because you always say you're just an old man now," he teased.

"An old man, am I?" Merlin shot back, a flame igniting at his fingertips. "Perhaps I should remind you why I was once called the Burning Sage. Even in my old age, I could run circles around the two of you."

Morgana laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You really are full of surprises, Grandpa."

Merlin's expression softened as he looked at them both. "The title of Scion is rare, but it carries immense responsibility. Arthur has inherited that burden now, just as I carry it. And Morgana," he added, his tone growing serious, "you too are destined for greatness, remember that, th blood of Igraine and Uther flows through your veins, never feel discouraged because you're not a Scion like your brother and I, a perfect grade affinity doesn't make you invincible , you both have the potential to surpass even me one day."

Arthur and Morgana exchanged determined glances, Merlin's words settling in . They could see the pride in their grandfather's eyes.

Morgana's fists clenched at her sides as she nodded firmly. "We'll make you proud, Grandpa."

Arthur, his ice-blue eyes shining with resolve, added, "And we'll make sure the Pendragon name stands even taller. Whatever it takes."

A warm smile appeared across Merlin's face. "That's the spirit. Remember, the path won't be easy, but both of you have what it takes to achieve greatness. Now, enough chatter! Back to training!!"

The siblings grinned, determination burning in their gazes as they stepped back into their stances, ready to prove themselves worthy of the legacy they carried.