Chapter Forty-One: The Immortal Crown

Arthur Pendragon stood alone on the rooftop of the Vanguard's base, the cold wind rustling his cloak. In one hand, he held Excalibur; in the other, the scabbard that had changed everything.

The magic of the scabbard flowed through him, a constant hum beneath his skin. It had strengthened him, made him immune to the ravages of time, but it had also filled him with a heavy realisation. He would endure, no matter the cost, long after his allies had gone.

"Immortal," he murmured, his breath visible in the night air. "A king who cannot fall. But what is a king without his people?"

Behind him, the door creaked open, and Alora stepped into the night. Her shadow magic curled faintly around her like a protective shroud.

"You're brooding again," she said softly.

Arthur smiled faintly. "A habit I seem unable to break."

She stepped closer, her voice tinged with concern. "It's the scabbard, isn't it?"

Arthur nodded. "Its power is undeniable, but it is a double-edged blade. To lead without fear of death is both a gift and a curse. How can I ask others to follow me, knowing I will never share their fate?"

"You're not leading alone," Alora reminded him. "That's what we're here for. You've built something worth believing in, Arthur. Don't let the burden blind you to that."

The next day, Arthur called a meeting of the Vanguard of Avalon in the grand hall of their base. The team gathered around a circular table—a deliberate nod to Arthur's past—each of them curious about the purpose of the gathering.

Arthur stood at the head of the table, Excalibur resting against his chair, the scabbard strapped to his side. His gaze swept over his companions, his voice steady but impassioned.

"We have fought hard to protect this land," he began. "But defence alone is not enough. If we are to restore hope, we must also rebuild. Unite. We must give the people something to believe in again—a future worth striving for."

"What are you proposing?" Lumina asked, her glow brightening.

Arthur placed a hand on the table, his tone resolute. "A united Britain, restored under a Constitutional Monarchy. A symbol of stability and unity, guided by a government chosen by the people."

The room buzzed with mixed reactions.

"Monarchy?" Firebrand scoffed, his flames flickering. "You want to bring back kings and queens? Haven't we had enough of people ruling from thrones?"

Arthur met his gaze, unflinching. "This is not about ruling from above. It's about leading alongside. A Constitutional Monarchy is not absolute power—it is a partnership with the people."

Swift Angel crossed his arms, his wings shifting slightly. "And what makes you think the people will accept it? They've been burned too many times to trust another crown."

Arthur nodded. "I understand their hesitation. That is why we must prove ourselves—not through words alone, but through action. We must show them that this is not the monarchy of old, but something new. Something just."

Fantasia leaned forward, her eyes glowing with thought. "You're immortal now, Arthur. That's not something people will take lightly. They'll either revere you as a saviour or fear you as a tyrant."

Arthur's expression grew solemn. "I am aware of the dangers. Immortality is both my greatest strength and my greatest burden. That is why I will not rule alone. The Vanguard will stand as a council, ensuring that no single voice, not even mine, carries unchecked power."

Christopher smirked from his corner, flicking ash from his cigarette. "Checks and balances, eh? Sounds almost modern, Your Majesty."

Arthur allowed a faint smile. "Even the past can teach us from the present."

Yuri spoke up, his voice steady. "If this works, it could bring hope to people. But it will take more than a speech to unite Britain. The scars run deep."

Arthur nodded. "That is why this is not my decision alone. I ask all of you to stand with me, not as subjects, but as equals. Together, we can show the people that unity is possible."

Lumina placed a hand on the table, her glow spreading across its surface. "You have my support, Arthur. If this can bring peace, it's worth fighting for."

Slowly, others began to nod, their initial scepticism giving way to cautious hope.

Firebrand leaned back, his flames dimmed but present. "I still don't trust it. Crowns and scabbards and immortality—it's too much like the stories we were told to fear."

Arthur looked at him, his tone gentle but firm. "Your scepticism is not unwarranted, Callum. But trust is not built in a day. I only ask that you give this a chance."

Firebrand hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod.

Swift Angel, however, remained silent, his gaze distant. "I'll fight for the people," he said finally. "But I'll need more time to believe in the crown."

Arthur inclined his head. "Take all the time you need. Belief cannot be forced."

As the meeting concluded, Arthur stood with Alora at his side, his voice steady as he addressed the team.

"This is but the first step," he said. "But it is an important one. Together, we will rebuild this land—not as conquerors, but as stewards. And together, we will remind the people of Britain that even in the darkest times, there is hope."

The Vanguard of Avalon rose as one, their unity still fragile but growing stronger with every challenge.