The name

Arthur “Hey, wake up, we’re here,” Arthur spoke as he gently nudged Igraine on the shoulder.

Igraine “Uahhhhhhh! Already?” She asked in a soft tone as she was scratching her eyes with the back of her palm.

Arthur softly leans his hand in front of her, she grabs his hand and gently gets up from the couch of the carriage.

Bedivere “Come one Elfieee! We don’t have time for you to sit on your fat ass all day!” She replied in a joking manner as she was doing a few stretches by the chariot’s door.

Arthur quickly turns his gaze back at Bedivere, giving her a **** stare.

Igraine “My… Ass! Is not! Ahhhhh! I can’t with you! Why did we have to bring her along anyway!?”

Bedivere “Oohhhh! You’re about to see why in the days to come,” Bedivere spoke with a grin on her face, glaring at Igraine.

Arthur “Would you two just get along, at least while I’m around?”

Bedivere “Sure… I don’t see why not…” She responded as she shrugged.

Igraine “No, thank you!”

Bedivere nudged Arthur with her elbow on his back a few times from behind him.

Bedivere “What kind of prince are you that you let your servants speak like that to you?” She whispered in his ear.

Arthur “She’s always been… difficult…” He whispered back, as they both watched Igraine who gently pet one of the horses, slightly further away from them.

Bedivere “Nothing a good cock can't fix, trust me on that, I’m a female,” she whispered in his ear.

Arthur “Shut up,” Arthur spoke as he collided shoulders with Bedivere and started to walk away from her, with a slight blush on his face.

Arthur “Don’t forget,” Arthur whispered while with his index finger pointed to his head, as he bid farewell to Notre.

Notre gave him a nod as he quickly turned his gaze away from Arthur.

After a few minutes of silently walking and a few scoffs between Bedivere and Igraine on the muddy road that led towards Mingham, they finally reached the town.

They were met with a line of people, diverse in attire and demeanor, weaves like a living ribbon before the towering gates. The atmosphere is filled with a blend of excitement, trepidation, and anticipation, as each individual carries their own story and purpose for seeking entry.

At the head of the line, a weary merchant clutches a weathered leather satchel close to his chest, his furrowed brow reflecting the weight of his trade goods and the hope for profitable sales within the town. Beside him, a family of peasants huddles together, their simple clothing and calloused hands evidence of a life of toil. The children's wide eyes shimmer with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty, eager to witness what the town has to offer.

The three of them walk slowly towards the back of the line and await their turn, patiently.

---

30 minutes later,

They are met with one of the female guards of Mingham that was sitting on a small wooden chair with a notebook in her left hand and a feathered pencil on her right hand, two other guards that wore silvered armor and helmets, they stood still in place, you couldn’t notice at first glance if they were statues or humans.

???? “Purpose of visit?” She asked, with an unbothered and tired tone, almost as if she was working there without a single break for the last two days.

Arthur “Just visiting…”

???? “All three? Are you affiliated with the guild? Are you nobles?” She asked again in the same manner.

Arthur “Not yet and no.”

???? “The toll is 3 silvers for commoners and peasants,” she spoke again in the same manner while slowly turning her gaze at a bucket that stood beside her, full of silver coins.

Arthur “Toll? I’m sure the King’s protection in his towns does not require payment,” Arthur responded, slightly annoyed.

???? “The toll is 3 silvers for commoners and peasants, pay the toll and move on,” she responded in the same tone, while not bothering herself to look at Arthur.

Igraine “He asked you a question, I highly recommend that you respond,” Igraine, more annoyed than Arthur after hearing what the guard asked of them, spoke as she came from behind Arthur.

The two guards behind the female, instantly turn their gaze at Igraine. In the 30 minutes that they stood in line, the guards never moved an inch, but in that instant of a second, it was as if they almost came back to life, Arthur could notice that their lifeless eyes were starting to get darker and darker by the second.

The female guard slowly raises her hand, stopping them.

???? “Ahhhh… The toll is 3 silvers for commoners and peasants, pay the toll and move on.”

Arthur grabs a pouch of coins that was attached at his back and could not be noticed due to his dark cloak, from the pouch he takes 3 silver coins and throws them into the bucket.

???? “Enjoy your stay, next…” The female guard spoke, using her usual unbothered tone.

As all three of them entered the town, they noticed that the once great town of Mingham was nothing like it used to be.

Mingham was nestled within a sprawling valley, the town presented a contradictory tapestry of enchantment and destitution. Its cobbled streets, meandering alleys, and timber-framed buildings are imbued with an air of mystical nostalgia, where guilds and magic once flourished side by side. However, the veneer of grandeur belies a stark reality — poverty hangs like a heavy shroud over Mingham, casting a shadow that taints even the most vibrant corners of the town.

The town square, once a bustling hub of trade and merriment, now stands as a weathered testament to the town's economic hardships. Faded market stalls line the perimeter, their fabric canopies frayed and sagging. Vendors with sun-worn faces and threadbare garments offer paltry assortments of wilted vegetables and meager cuts of meat, struggling to eke out a living amidst the prevailing scarcity.

Bedivere “Where to now?” She asked, excited.

Arthur “First thing’s first, we need to register with the guild,” Arthur spoke as he looked around him for directions to the guild of Mingham.

Igraine “I believe it’s this way,” Igraine spoke as she pointed to her right, while looking at a wooden blackboard that stood in place at the town’s entrance, indicating certain key points of the town.

Arthur “Then, that’s where we're going,” Arthur responded as he started to walk towards the direction pointed by Igraine.

Bedivere and Igraine slowly walked behind him, not even a few seconds later, Bedivere’s stomach started rumbling.

Igraine “Pffft!” She almost started bursting with laughter, and gently placed her right hand on her mouth, stopping herself.

Bedivere “Benevolent leader, I’m afraid your servant is in need of nourishment,” she pleaded, sarcastically.

Arthur “We will stop at the tavern after we’re done with the guild.”

Igraine “We also need potions, I wonder if they sell some here, we should probably ask at the guild.”

Bedivere “And If I remember correctly, I was also promised an ax.”

Arthur “We will get everything set up after we make sure that we can register with the guild, that’s our first priority.”

Igraine “Ohhhh! I knew I forgot to tell you something, the King already arranged for us to be registered, we just have to go and check in.”

Arthur “And now you’re telling me that!? Arghhhh! Don’t you think that’s important information!?” Arthur screamed at her, genuinely annoyed at her incompetence.

Igraine “I’m sorry…” She responded in a quiet and gentle tone.

Arthur “Ahhhhh! It’s okay! It’s okay! Let’s just go and get this over with…”

Bedivere “Bad move prince, women don’t like to be yelled at,” she whispered in his ear with a smile on her face, as she started to walk further away.

Arthur “I’m sorry too, let’s just go…”

---

15 minutes later,
The Guild of Mingham,

The Mingham Guild looked almost like a tavern. The air vibrates with laughter, clinking tankards, and the melodious strumming of a bard's lute, creating a symphony of merriment that envelops all who enter.

Golden chandeliers hang from the ceiling, illuminating the spacious hall with a warm and inviting glow. The wooden beams overhead are adorned with enchanted crystals that emit soft, shifting hues, casting ever-changing patterns of light across the tapestries that line the walls. Each tapestry depicts legendary battles, mythical creatures, and scenes of arcane wonder, mesmerizing those who take a moment to appreciate them.

Tables of various shapes and sizes dot the tavern, each carved with intricate designs that pay homage to the different guilds that call this place home.

The atmosphere is alive with magic, as patrons engage in friendly spellcasting duels, creating bursts of colorful lights and sparks that dance through the air. A sorcerer at the bar conjures a floating flame to warm his drink, while a druid in the corner uses her powers to make flowers bloom and vines snake around her table. Familiars, imps, and ethereal creatures flit about, adding an otherworldly charm to the scene.

The bar itself is a masterpiece of craftsmanship, its surface gleaming with enchantments that keep the drinks chilled and the ales frothy. An assortment of beverages from across the realm lines the shelves, including elixirs that shimmer with magical potency and potent meads that bear the fiery spirit of dragons. It was as if the guild itself was not even part of Mingham but another world entire.

They all start to walk slowly towards the counter, not even a few seconds in, Bedivere stops, they both turn around to look at her.

Bedivere “Remove your hand,” She asked in a jarring tone as she turned around.

???? “I’ve never met an orc to have such a lascivious back side, how much for a night darling?” The man asked as he was caressing Bedivere’s fat cheeks.

Bedivere looked at the silver sigil that hold the man’s red cloak in place, attached to his body, it had a a tauren’s head embedded into it, the tauren’s horns were made with copper, and distinctive, most likely depicting the Guild master of the man in front of her.

Bedivere “Ha!?”

Bedivere in an instant kicks the man in the chest with her right foot using all her ****, breaking the iron plate that the man had, destroying his internal organs, the man was directly propelled into the doors of the Guild, breaking them apart.

???? “Duncan! You fucking bitch! Ahhhhhh!”

10 more others wearing the same garments, rise up from the chairs and start rushing at Bedivere.

Arthur, with a small movement of his head, indicating a no to Igraine, stops her from attempting to help Bedivere.

They both go towards the counter, as tables, drinks and cutlery fly behind them, Arthur was not the only one who was completely calm during the events that were happening only a few feet away from him, most of the others didn’t care either, they just placed themselves slightly away from the conflict continuing with their drinks, others just watched as they laughed and cheered Bedivere, who was overpowering ten people in a simple brawl.

It seemed that the only one that cared about what was happening was Igraine, who watched anxious and worried at Bedivere who was stomping with her right foot one of the guy’s faces while holding another one with her left hand, delivering nonstop blows to his head with her fist, laughing and grinning as her face was splashed with the blood of the guy she was holding.

Arthur approached the counter, he was met with an enigmatic figure whose appearance blurs the lines between traditional notions of gender. An ethereal and androgynous beauty that captures the gaze of all who encounter him. With features that seem to transcend gender expectations.

His face is a canvas where delicate features intertwine. High cheekbones gently curve, casting soft shadows that highlight a pair of captivating, almond-shaped eyes. These eyes hold the hues of both dawn and twilight, shifting from pale blue to dusky lavender depending on the light and his own emotions. Dark, feathery lashes frame his eyes, adding an air of mystery to his gaze.

???? “And what can I do for you?” He asked, in a soft yet terrifying voice, looking straight into Arthur’s eyes.

Arthur “We would like to join the guild…” Arthur replied, somewhat repelled by the man’s voice, attire and his constant gazes.

???? “Do you now?” He replied in his previous tone.

Arthur “Yes…” Arthur responded, still repulsed.

???? “Is she with you?” He asked while looking at Bedivere who was still fighting with the others just a few feet away from them.

Arthur “Yes…”

???? “Is that all you can say? Yes? I like a man like that…” He asked as he attempted to touch Arthur’s cheek.

Arthur quickly stops him, grabbing his hand mid air before it could reach his cheek.

Arthur “We’re here to join the guild, did I come to the right place or not?”

The man smiles at Arthur.

Arthur “What!?”

The man removed his hand from Arthur’s grab, raising both his hands up.

???? “Magic!” He exclaimed, with a smile on his face.

???? “I don’t know who you are and who you have watching over you, but it feels like you are protected by God himself, the payment has been processed, all I need is your names and the name of your Guild, also, whatever she breaks you will pay in full,” he spoke, in an different tone entire, his effeminate voice was gone, he playful demeanor changed, his constant gazes at Arthur switched towards Igraine.

Arthur “Art, Igritte and Bedivere,” Arthur responded as he pointed at each of the respective members.

???? “Let me get the paperwork in order, I’ll be back in a few seconds…”

Bedivere “Look! Look what I got!” Bedivere shouted at Arthur, as her eyes were sparkling while holding an double edged iron ax, half her size, looking at it as if it was the greatest treasure in the world.

Igraine “I think you meant stole….”

Bedivere “Borrowed indefinitely, is the term, so? Did we sign up already? What did I miss?”

Arthur shakes his head in disappointment.

Igraine gets closer to Bedivere, she raises both her hands towards Bedivere’s shoulder, a green aura envelops Bedivere’s shoulder while starting to grow little by little covering her entire body, the few bruises and cuts Bedivere had were starting to dissipate.

Igraine “Don’t think I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart, we’ll need you to be apt for combat, that’s all this is,” Igraine spoke in a gentle tone as she continuously healed Bedivere.

Bedivere “Whatever you say Elfie,” Bedivere spoke with a smile ear to ear on her face while gently petting Igraine’s head.

???? “There it is,” the lanky guild advisor spoke as he forcefully put on the counter a tome that he carried with both his hands.

Arthur leans in taking a closer look at the tome, it read on it’s cover “Breasla Codex, written by Heracles, Siegfried, Beowulf and Karna.”

The tome itself was ancient and weathered, bound in worn leather and embellished with ornate metal accents. Its appearance reflects the rich history and tradition of the Guilds, large and heavy, symbolizing its significance and the weight of its contents within the Guild’s world.

The Guild advisor opens the tome.

The pages of the Codex are filled with handwritten text, illustrations, and diagrams, detailing the articles and rules that guild members are expected to follow, to the teeth. The codex covers various aspects of life, including guidelines for dividing treasure, electing leaders (such as the Guild Lords), and maintaining a code of conduct. The book's pages may appear tattered and aged, further emphasizing its antiquity and importance to the culture.

???? “The code is the law!” The advisor spoke in a stern tone looking at all the members that were present.

They all raised their drinks high up in the air and shouted together, in different tongues.

???? “THE CODE IS THE LAW!”

A few seconds later after the commotion stopped, the guild advisor spoke while looking at the three of them.

???? “Feel free to read it before you sign it,” he said as he turned the tome around, facing Arthur.

Arthur and the others spend at least an hour browsing through the tome, reading it’s code of conduct, understanding how the Guild paid its employees, what they should or should not do, the penalties that the guild instilled in each member upon misconduct, how a Guild’s reputation system worked and everything else in between.

After they were done, the advisor turned the book to its last page, where in it, embedded within it was a brown rusty old needle.

???? “By the mingling of our life's essence, so do souls intertwine, a testament to the depths we'd plunge to grasp power, even if it stains our hands forever," He spoke in a gritty tone as he forcefully grabbed Arthur’s right hand and pierced its thumb with the needle, while strenuously placing Arthur’s thumb on the tome.

Bedivere and Igraine were soon to follow.

Igraine “I’m not sure that’s sanitaaaAhhhhh!… Auch! Fuuuu! Fuuuu!” A slightly upset Igraine spoke as she started blowing warm and soft breaths of air to her finger.

Bedivere “That little thingy of yours is not gonna… Ahhhh! What the…..!”

???? “Now, all that remains is the name…” He spoke while looking at Arthur.

Arthur looks at the ground for a few seconds, then up to the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.

---

???? “It belongs to you, if you are worthy of it.”

Arthur “But… this… is just a wooden sword, I don’t….”

The young man stopped Arthur from speaking, bending down on his knees in order to sit face to face with Arthur, gently placing his hand upon Arthur’s hair, caressing it smoothly.

???? “Very few have the courage to sheathe their swords once it’s out. Fear is not evil, it only tells you what your weakness is, only after you understand it you can move forward, becoming stronger as well as ****.”

The man gets up, turns his back at Arthur and starts walking away.

Arthur “Will I ever see you again!?” Arthur shouted from the top of his lungs.

The man gently waved his hand in the air as a sign of goodbye.

Arthur “Lance! Answer me! Lanceeee!” Arthur shouted with teary eyes, holding the wooden sword tightly to his chest.

Lance “If you want to see me again, look for….” He shouted back at Arthur.

---

Arthur “Avalon,” Arthur spoke with clear determination on his face.

???? “And so it is written in blood, an oath etched upon the fabric of destinies. The ink of your veins weaves a tale of darkness, a story of whispered promises and malevolent desires. As the world trembles before the weight of the pact, may the echoes of your sacrifice resound through the annals of time, as a chilling reminder of the depths we dare to descend," He spoke in a gritty tone, while with his own blood, he wrote “Avalon” at the top of the last page.