/n/earths-greatest-magus-1172/c-1780
chapter-1781

In the heart of Rome's bustling city center, a crowd had gathered, their attention riveted on the Emissary ship that stood poised for departure. Anchoring the event were two distinguished figures, the Earth Magus, Emery and Julian. They were slated to embark on what was projected as a brief journey to a Centauri planet.

Despite the voyage's alleged brevity, the atmosphere was thick with emotion, a cocktail of anticipation, anxiety, and wonder. For Earth, this was a seminal event: its first official interstellar foray. But underpinning the general sense of excitement, there seemed to be an undercurrent of deeper concerns, nuances that only those intimately involved could fathom.

Among the Romans, tension was palpable. Julian was flanked by a cadre of his most trusted young centurions, and prominent among them were Marc and Octavius. Their postures were stiff, their expressions grave. They hung on Julian's every word, absorbing the weight of his counsel.

In contrast, Emery's entourage exuded a more subdued intensity. Morgana, with her piercing eyes, stood by his side, and Gwen's serene presence offered a calming influence. A handful of Britannia Knights were also present, their gleaming armor catching the sunlight, with Arthur standing tall among them. Yet, amid all the gravitas, a figure of visible discontent was Thrax, who grumbled and muttered, evidently disgruntled at being excluded from the expedition.

As the final preparations for departure were underway, two venerated figures approached the ship. The Abbott and Fjorin, both seniors offered their heartfelt best wishes to the departing duo. They also made solemn assurances that in the absence of the two, they would steadfastly protect their home planet.

The moment had arrived. The hum of the ship's engines grew louder, signaling imminent departure. Emery and Julian exchanged glances, a silent communication of understanding, camaraderie, and determination. With a final wave to their well-wishers, they ascended the ramp. The ship's doors closed behind them, and slowly, majestically, the Emissary ship began its ascent, cutting a path through the azure sky.

With Emery and Julian's departure, the monumental Summit that had brought together world leaders and Earth's most formidable warriors drew to a close. From all corners of the globe, esteemed delegates began their homeward journeys, their hearts heavy with the weight of the responsibilities and challenges ahead.

As the sun began its descent, casting an amber hue over Rome's horizon, a majestic ship embarked from its port. Its sails caught the wind as it began its voyage across the tranquil Mediterranean, charting a course for the island of Brittania. While the ship carried the revered King and Queen, another passenger garnered significant attention: Morgana. Still on the mend from recent events, she chose to accompany her allies and friends on this journey, seeking solace in their company.

Gwen, standing at the ship's bow, reveled in the sensation of the salty sea breeze playing with her hair and the mesmerizing dance of the sapphire waters below. But, a few steps away stood Morgana, her demeanor starkly contrasting Gwen's. Her icy silence was palpable, casting a shadow over the knights aboard, who were all too familiar with the tales of her unparalleled power and fearsome reputation. Amongst them, only King Arthur and compassionate Gwen ventured to engage her in conversation.

Over the years, distance and circumstance had distanced Gwen from Morgana. However, Gwen, with her innate warmth and charisma, was determined to bridge that chasm. As the hours turned into days, Morgana's icy facade began to melt under Gwen's relentless affection and understanding. They spent hours sharing tales and memories, with Gwen probing Morgana about her adventures over the past few years. Morgana's stories, however, were tainted with melancholy and misfortune.

Yet, Gwen, ever the beacon of positivity, responded with a smile and a twinkle in her eyes, "I am truly sorry to hear of your travails, but there's a strange part of me that feels a tinge of envy for your experiences."

Three days into their journey, with Morgana regaining her strength and vitality, the realization dawned that they were still a week away from reaching Brittania's shores. Restlessness began to seep into Morgana's spirit. "This journey seems endless," she murmured, her patience wearing thin.

However, the monotony was soon shattered. The horizon revealed an imposing ship, its black sails billowing menacingly. At its helm stood a captain with a striking feature: a single, glaring eye. With an air of arrogance, he bellowed,

"Surrender your treasures or meet a watery grave!"

"..."

Before the Britannia knights could even react, let alone draw their swords, an inferno engulfed the threatening ship. Flames leapt and danced as the ship's crew scrambled, leaping overboard, their screams piercing the air as they pleaded for mercy from the flaming witch.

After Morgana's explosive confrontation with the pirates, the residual smoke from the charred ship clung to her garments, creating an ethereal aura around her. With a piercing gaze, she locked eyes with Gwen and inquired, "Are you familiar with our path home?"

Gwen, ever perceptive and attuned to Morgana's whims, instantly nodded in affirmation.

Morgana then, with a grace that belied her immense power, gently cradled the Britannia princess in her arms. In a magnificent display, her wings ignited into a blazing trail, lifting them into the azure sky.

Guided by Gwen's impeccable memory of maps she'd pored over countless times, they soared above the European landscape. Beneath them sprawled picturesque towns, majestic mountains, and sprawling forests, all basking in the golden embrace of the setting sun. Their rapid flight brought them to the gates of Logress castle in Britannia just as dusk gave way to night.

Descending gracefully into the heart of the city, Morgana's flaming silhouette became a beacon in the night sky. Whispers rippled through the gathering crowd below, their voices tinged with awe and trepidation. "It's Morgana the Fey," some murmured, "the Fey Witch has returned."

However, Morgana remained unfazed by their reactions. She gently set Gwen down on solid ground and, without much ceremony, bade her farewell. "Take care," she whispered, before heading towards the fey village to reunite with her kin.

Meanwhile, Gwen's arrival was met with pure elation, particularly from a young boy who sprinted towards her, his face alight with joy. He leapt into her arms, his voice trembling with emotion, "Mother, you've come back!"

Gwen hugged him tightly, whispering into his ear, "Kydan, I've missed you. Has everything been alright in my absence?"

Kydan, his face beaming, replied, "Everything's fine, Queen Mother. Me and Mama have been well."

Behind the jubilant child stood a poised and graceful woman, Eleirch – King Arthur's second wife and Kydan's birth mother. Despite the circumstances, Gwen held immense love for Kydan, treating him no different from her own. Seeing the boy brought back memories of her conversation with Emery and the choices she had to make regarding the Magus realm.

Lost in thought, she ambled with Kydan still in her arms to the castle's balcony. Overlooking the thriving city below, a wave of determination washed over her. If her decision meant safeguarding her loved ones and her people, she was ready to embrace whatever path lay ahead. Without hesitation, she knew her answer was a resounding

"yes".