[Third Person's PoV]
Arthur suddenly found himself stepping into a large minecart. He stood next to Goburk, with Merlin right behind him.
He tried hard to suppress the growing excitement bubbling inside him, along with the grin threatening to take over his face.
Merlin, sensing his emotions, smirked faintly. 'He's such a little kid, I swear.'
Arthur stiffened and glanced at her with an awkward smile. 'You do know our link is active, right?'
'Oops…' she replied—completely unapologetic and unashamed of her words.
"Keep your hands and feet to yourselves at all times," Goburk warned, gripping a lever on the side of the cart. "You're in for a bumpy ride, so hold on tight."
With that, he yanked the lever, and the cart released with a jolt.
As the cart began to speed up, Arthur's thoughts drifted to what he had recently learned about the House of Pendragon and the House of Peverell.
'Hey Mel... doesn't this make Harry Potter a Pendragon too? Since he's descended from the Peverells?'
'Yes and no. Technically, he is a Pendragon, but by now, his bloodline has been so diluted over the generations that it's evolved into something else entirely. Still, that trace of Pendragon blood—probably only around 1–5%—would explain his talent in the books. The Pendragon bloodline is so potent that even a sliver makes a massive difference.'
'What's so special about the Pendragon bloodline, anyway? What aren't you telling me?' Arthur asked.
'You'll see,' Merlin replied with a mysterious grin.
'Wha—'
"AAAH!" Arthur screamed as the cart suddenly dropped downward, picking up incredible speed. The sudden inertia nearly threw him off, and he had to grab the side just in time.
The wind roared in his ears. They were moving so fast that his surroundings blurred into unrecognizable streaks of rock and flickers of torchlight. Vaults carved deep into the underground flashed by in a dizzying rush.
Arthur's cloak flailed wildly behind him, his hair slicked straight back from the wind. His face lit up with exhilaration.
He laughed, overwhelmed by the thrill, as the wheels beneath them squealed sharply around each turn.
They descended deeper and deeper—until suddenly, everything was swallowed by darkness.
Arthur couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face. The ride dragged on for minutes, long enough for his earlier excitement to dim. Gradually, his eyes adjusted to the impenetrable dark.
Then—he saw it.
A light at the end of the tunnel, radiating with a brilliance untouched by any shadow. They surged toward it, faster and faster.
As they burst through, Arthur grunted, shutting his eyes against the blinding radiance.
Then came the screech of metal grinding against metal, followed by the sizzling sound of sparks flying. The cart trembled violently, threatening to throw them off. Arthur held on tighter, the vibrations rattling through his bones. For a moment, it felt like the cart might shatter apart.
The screeching finally softened as their speed slowed, though Arthur still couldn't open his eyes—the light was too intense.
At last, as the cart screeched to a stop, Goburk's gruff voice broke through the ringing in Arthur's ears.
"We've arrived."
Arthur, with the help of Merlin stepped out of the cart shielding his eyes with one hand.
His eyes were scrunched and squinting as he slowly adjusted to the overwhelming radiance. As he scanned for the source of the light, he suddenly froze. His breath hitched, stalled for a heartbeat. His pupils dilated, trying to drink in every detail of the sight before him.
Lowering his hand, Arthur stood transfixed—captivated by the most beautiful and majestic creature he had ever seen.
"Arthur?" Merlin's voice echoed through the cavern, but it was just background noise now. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the Guardian Beast before the Vault of the Pendragon.
Towering, regal, and divine—there stood a dragon. Not just any dragon, but the mightiest, most magnificent dragon Arthur had ever laid eyes upon.
Its scales were the purest white, with golden veins running through them, catching and reflecting light with a mesmerizing gleam. But it wasn't just its color that commanded awe—it was the wings. Not leathery, but grand plumes of radiant feathers. Each feather shimmered with a celestial glow, gold and white cascading like sunlight over still water. Across its chest and flanks, glowing glyphs of ancient origin pulsed faintly—warding sigils that thrummed with forgotten power.
Crescent-moon-shaped horns, pure white tipped in gold, curved from either side of its head. At the joints of its wings, golden claws jutted out like divine blades.
Arthur took a step forward, unaware of anything but the being before him.
He stared into its golden, slit-pupiled eyes. There was no disdain in that gaze—only recognition. And love.
The Divine Dragon slowly closed its eyes and lowered its head, just as Arthur raised his hand. The two met in stillness, his hand resting gently against its snout. They both closed their eyes, basking in the silent, soul-deep connection.
Arthur leaned into her, his hand gently stroking beneath her chin. Without realizing it, he whispered, "Hello, old friend… It's been a while."
"Yes… it has been," came the reply—a rich, melodious female voice, full of maturity and timeless wisdom.
To Goburk, however, it was a strange and eerie sight. The boy stood pressed against the dragon, growling in low tones, and the dragon responded with similar sounds. He furrowed his brow, utterly baffled.
Merlin, however, raised a brow and smiled softly. 'Dragonic Language… He doesn't even realize what he's doing,' she mused. 'I doubt he's even aware of the words he's speaking and hearing. He's lost in that old bond… The bond he once shared with her… the dragon bound to King Arthur.'
She grew wistful as she watched Arthur press his forehead to the dragon's snout, tears falling from both their eyes.
'The bonding of a dragon is sacred… a unification of souls. No one grieved his death more than her... well, maybe one other.' Merlin gave a sad chuckle before shaking her head, eyes still fixed on the tearful reunion.
She noticed Goburk beginning to open his mouth to speak—and immediately placed her staff across it. His eyes widened as he turned to see Merlin glaring daggers at him.
"Don't," she mouthed sternly.
When he nodded and backed off, she withdrew her staff with a huff. 'Seriously… read the room.'
Her gaze softened again as she looked toward the dragon. 'I'm glad she got to see him again… even if he doesn't remember her yet. When he passed, she nearly faded from heartbreak. If I hadn't promised her they would meet again in the far future, she might've vanished into despair… or ended her own life.'
Merlin looked upon the dragon with quiet pride.
'Just like I promised. You stood guard over the Pendragon vault, and now you've been reunited. I've kept my word.'
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