Plastered across an oak-like desk was a library in itself, pages upon pages stacked haphazardly. The owner of this knowledge was Leonardo, absorbed in the tales of the world. It had been three weeks since his arrival, and he’d gotten situated, spending most of his time with books. He was immersed, his eyes scanning the early tales of his potential predecessor, King Arthur.

  “Leo, I’m coming in,” a voice called.

  Soon, Evangeline entered, balancing a tray with sandwiches and two beverages. She set the tray down and took a seat beside him.

  “What book are you on now?” she asked, peering at the page.

  “It’s a story about Lancelot. Apparently, he was stronger than Arthur and even destroyed Excalibur?” Leonardo said, astonished.

  “Arthur was a king of kings, not the knight of knights,” she replied with a shrug.

  “It’s scary to think someone like that existed,” Leonardo murmured, unease creeping into his tone.

  “By the way, Leo, my father—” Evangeline began, but Leonardo interrupted with a sharp, “I know what you’re going to say, and no.”

  Evangeline practically bit her tongue, her expression faltering. She turned away briefly before a smile reformed on her face, and she leaned closer to read along with him.

  “Why are you so interested in Arthur anyway? You’re not going to draw the sword,” she commented.

  “I’m surprised myself,” Leonardo said, smiling faintly as he flipped a page. “These stories call to me in a way.” He glanced at the clock and stood abruptly. “Hold on, it’s almost time for my training. Sorry, Eva, I’ll have to speak to you later.”

  Grabbing a sheathed blade, he quickly exited the room, making his way through the mansion to the courtyard. Waiting for him was a man clad in combat gear, metal armor covering his wrists, shoulders, abdomen, and shins. A fur collar added a rugged flair to his attire.

  “Took ya long enough, squirt,” the man chuckled.

  Leonardo responded with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, Sir Rephus, I had some, uh—business.”

  “That’s Master Albert to you,” the man hissed.

  “Yes, Master Albert,” Leonardo said, his gaze dropping, feeling slightly ashamed.

  I never thought I’d be forced to call a Caucasian-looking man ‘Master’… Can’t even escape it in this world, Leonardo thought bitterly.

  “Alright, get to it. Three laps around the mansion,” Albert commanded.

  And with that, Leonardo began jogging around the mansion grounds.

  The land the mansion occupied was bountiful—a sprawling courtyard that was almost a field, complete with gazebos, fountains, and lush flora. Behind it lay a mini forest, dense with shrubbery and wildlife. Though tiring, Leonardo found the jog peaceful, a brief reprieve from his complicated reality.

  The fresh scent of grass and pollen filled his nostrils, accompanied by the melodic chirps of birds and crickets. It was tranquil.

  By the time he returned, trickling sweat clung to his body. His master seemed pleased.

  “That’ll wake ya up from all that book stuff. Now, for the real training. You’ve been great at picking up the basics, but technique and such will only get you so far. You need experience,” Albert explained.

  Leonardo’s stomach twisted. The idea of risking his life again made his skin crawl.

  “So, you’ll be fighting me,” Albert declared.

  Leonardo exhaled a sigh of relief.

  A visible vein bulged on Albert’s forehead. “So you think I’m easy, huh?”

  Albert gestured for Leonardo to step forward. “Use your sword. Try to kill me,” he said, his words firm, his eyes razor-sharp.

  Leonardo drew his blade, gripping the hilt tightly with both hands. He took a deep breath. “Are you sure? You might actually die,” he quipped, flashing a nervous grin.

  His master chuckled. “Come at me.”

  Leonardo lunged forward, his sword centered. Albert remained unmoving, not a flicker of fear in his posture. Leonardo swung the flat side of his blade toward Albert’s torso—a hesitant, half-hearted strike.

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  With a casual flick of his wrist, Albert deflected the blow, the sheer force of the parry throwing Leonardo off balance. Before he could recover, Albert delivered a swift punch to his gut, sending him sprawling to the ground.

  Pain erupted in Leonardo’s abdomen, his body curling instinctively as he gasped for air.

  “Agh!”

  “Don’t ever disrespect me with weak fighting like that again. Get up. We’re going again.”

  And so the afternoon dragged on, a series of one-sided brawls leaving Leonardo battered and twitching on the floor by the end of it.

  Maybe fighting goblins wasn’t so bad, he thought grimly.

  “By the way, kid, I hear the goblins are planning an attack soon,” Albert remarked. “They may have started coordinating, but they’re still small fry—like you.”

  Leonardo groaned, his voice barely audible. “Did… you tell me that just to make me feel weaker?”

  “Yep.” Albert let out a hearty laugh as he walked away, leaving Leonardo sprawled on the ground, drenched in sweat and agony.

  The sun beat down mercilessly as Leonardo lay there, unmoving. Eventually, his view was obscured by golden locks. Evangeline’s face came into focus as she crouched over him, a small smile on her lips.

  “Want to go to town with me?” she asked.

  “If I could walk, sure,” Leonardo muttered weakly.

  Evangeline waved her fingers, green symbols forming at her fingertips. The symbols spiraled around him, the pain and swelling in his body subsiding gradually.

  “Whoa,” Leonardo said, springing up. “When did you get so good at healing magic?”

  “After our last incident, I swore to get better. But my lack of talent makes it pretty draining,” she admitted.

  Together, they set off toward town.

  The town they arrived at bore similarities to Evangeline’s—its rustic roads and medieval charm exuded a quiet kind of beauty. Its architecture ranged from weathered stone houses to wooden shops with thatched roofs, and the streets bustled with people of all kinds. Merchants called out their wares, children darted through crowds, and travelers bartered over goods.

  Yet, as Leonardo gazed upon the lively streets, he couldn’t help but notice an unusually high number of armored individuals. Their presence felt heavy, like a storm cloud lingering on the horizon.

  “Why are there so many soldiers here?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  Evangeline shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s probably because of the rumors about goblins. They’ve been causing more trouble lately, and this is a priceless historic town. The guards don’t want to take any chances.”

  Leonardo nodded, though the sight unsettled him.

  As they wandered further into the heart of the town, they passed under a stone arch adorned with a glowing crystal at its center. Beneath the arch stood a pedestal, and nestled within it was a sword. Its hilt gleamed like polished gold, and the blade itself emitted a faint, ethereal light.

  Leonardo’s gaze locked onto it instantly. Something about the sword felt… magnetic. His chest tightened, and for a moment, it was as if the world around him faded. The hum of the market dulled, and all he could hear was the faint pulse of his own heartbeat.

  The pull was undeniable, as though the blade was calling to him.

  “Leo?” Evangeline’s voice jolted him back to reality.

  He blinked, quickly averting his gaze and feigning disinterest. “What? Sorry, zoned out for a second.”

  Evangeline’s sharp eyes studied him for a moment, a knowing look flashing across her face. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing. Let’s keep moving.”

  Leonardo followed her, doing his best to ignore the lingering sensation the sword had left in his chest.

  They soon found themselves at a cozy tavern tucked into the corner of a bustling square. The warm glow of lanterns and the scent of roasting pork wafted out to greet them.

  Inside, the tavern was lively but not overcrowded. Wooden tables filled the room, and the chatter of patrons mixed with the occasional clink of mugs. Leonardo and Evangeline claimed a corner table, sinking into the worn chairs with audible sighs of relief.

  After ordering two hearty meals of pork and rice, along with a pair of beers, they settled into a comfortable rhythm of conversation.

  “This town is nice,” Leonardo said between bites. “It’s a shame I’ve barely been here. I’ve been cooped up at the mansion this whole time.”

  “I’m surprised you even took my invitation,” Evangeline teased, her lips quirking into a grin.

  “I figured it was time to get out,” he replied, his tone lighter than it had been in weeks.

  Evangeline watched as he devoured his food, her grin widening. “Slow down. Leave some food for the dead.”

  “Nah, I need to eat my fill so I don’t join them too soon,” he shot back, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  She chuckled, enjoying the rare sight of him letting his guard down.

  After finishing their meals, the two turned their attention to the beers in front of them. Round after round, they indulged, the alcohol loosening their tongues and dulling the edges of their usual tension.

  Leonardo leaned back in his chair, his hands wrapped around his glass. He stared into the near-empty pint, his mind drifting as Evangeline spoke animatedly across from him. Her words blurred together, her voice a distant hum in the background.

  That is, until she reached across the table and grasped his hand.

  “Leo.”

  The seriousness in her tone snapped him back to attention. He looked up, meeting her gaze.

  “Please,” she began, her voice soft but heavy with emotion. “Please be the hero. And take me with you. I… I can’t deal with my father anymore.”

  Leonardo’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t respond, his eyes dropping to where her hands held his.

  “He says I’m just like my mother now. That I contaminated you. That I led you off the right path.”

  Her voice cracked, and Leonardo heard the tremble in it, saw the tears welling in her eyes.

  “My father… he hates me. I know he does. He treats me like I’m less. Like I’m not human. Please, Leo. Please take me away. I promise you—we’ll save the world. Just… don’t leave me behind.”

  Her grip on his hands tightened, the desperation in her eyes cutting through him like a blade.

  Leonardo’s stomach churned. The weight of her plea pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating.

  She’s asking me to save her… but I can’t even save myself.

  His chair scraped loudly against the wooden floor as he stood abruptly. Evangeline’s tear-streaked face was frozen in his mind, but he couldn’t bear to look at her now.

  Without a word, he turned and walked away.

  Out of the tavern.

  Out of her reach.

  Out of his responsibility.