[Third Person Pov]
“I'm going to need a moment to memorize this so I don't forget it,” Mera said softly, her voice filled with quiet determination. She remained focused on the back of the ancient throne, her fingers tracing the intricate symbols and flowing patterns carved deep into its surface.
Arthur watched her with open skepticism, his brow furrowed as he took in the overwhelming wall of knowledge etched before them. “Do you really think you’ll be able to memorize all of that?” he asked, his tone carrying a note of doubt. The sheer density of the inscriptions made the task feel impossible.
“Yeah, wouldn’t it be better to just leave it here and come back to it once Arthur becomes king?” Garth suggested casually. He stood a few steps back with his arms laced behind his head, trying to appear relaxed despite the tension in the ruined chamber.
Mera’s expression grew solemn. She turned her head slightly but kept her gaze locked on the throne. “A lot could happen between now and then,” she replied, her voice dropping into a low, almost haunting whisper. “A lot has in fact already happened since we began this journey.”
“She makes a fair point,” Arthur conceded. He reached over and gently patted Garth’s head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “This entire journey has been nothing but unpredictable encounters one after the other.”
Garth caught the playful wink Arthur gave him and couldn’t help but smile back, warmth blooming in his chest. He knew exactly what Arthur meant — he himself had been one of those wonderfully unpredictable encounters.
“As for whether or not I am able to memorize it,” Mera continued, finally addressing Arthur’s earlier question, “need I remind you that I was trained as royalty from the moment I was born? Much of what was expected of me involved committing vast amounts of information to memory. Any failure would have reflected badly on our royal line and on my father. The pressure was immense, even at a very young age.”
She finally pulled her gaze away from the throne and looked at both of them, her eyes steady and commanding. “But whether or not I succeed, I first need the opportunity to try. Meaning…” She raised a finger to her lips in a clear gesture. “Zip.”
Arthur and Garth straightened up instantly, standing side by side like disciplined soldiers. They mirrored her motion, drawing their fingers across their own lips in perfect unison, sealing their silence.
“While I do this,” Mera added, giving them one final, meaningful look, “you two can try to find our next clue. It should be somewhere in this chamber — you just have to search carefully.”
Arthur offered a teasing salute, clicking his heels together for dramatic effect. Garth glanced at him, then quickly copied the gesture, both of them standing straight and stiff in exaggerated military precision.
Mera let out a soft, amused breath, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly before her focus returned entirely to the throne. She began committing every symbol, every flowing line and ancient element to memory with intense concentration.
Meanwhile, Arthur and Garth switched to silent communication through sign language. Arthur pointed at Garth, then to his own eyes before making a sweeping circular motion around the upper area of the chamber. He then pointed to himself, gestured to his eyes, and motioned downward toward the lower levels. Finally, he gave Garth a confident thumbs-up paired with a questioning head tilt.
The meaning of his sign language was clear to Garth: “You stay here and keep a lookout from above while I go down and see if I can find anything. Sound like a plan?”
Garth responded enthusiastically with two big thumbs-up, a wide grin splitting across his face as he nodded his head vigorously in agreement.
With that, Arthur leaped down from the tall platform. He landed in the iconic superhero three-point pose — fist and knee planted firmly on the cracked floor — sending a small cloud of dust billowing around him. Rising slowly, he scanned the destroyed royal chamber, his confusion growing. The once-grand hall was now a maze of shattered stone, fallen columns, and scattered debris. He had no clear idea what the next clue might even look like.
Undeterred, he began methodically pushing aside heavy pieces of rubble that had collapsed from the ceiling, grunting with effort as he searched for any sign of a hidden trapdoor, lever, or mechanical contraption beneath the wreckage.
He moved on to the tattered banners that still clung desperately to their weathered poles along the walls. He grabbed them and pulled them off from their place on the wall, he examined the stone behind them, hoping for a concealed message or compartment. But there was nothing — only more ancient carvings worn smooth by time and neglect.
Garth, who had a perfect bird’s-eye view from the elevated platform, scanned the entire chamber with careful, sweeping glances. He scratched the back of his head, puzzled at first, then tilted his head curiously as he tried to take in the full scope of the room.
As Arthur continued pulling down the tattered banners one by one, Garth’s eyes narrowed further with each movement. Something was shifting — the scattered debris, the fallen pillars, the partially obscured carvings on the floor… they were all beginning to align, forming the faint outlines of one massive, hidden image.
He stepped directly in front of the throne, and his eyes slowly widened in realization. His mouth opened to call out to Arthur, but he caught himself just in time, glancing nervously over his shoulder at Mera. His shoulders slumped in silent frustration. Instead, he began waving his arms frantically in wide arcs, trying desperately to catch Arthur’s attention.
When that failed, Garth jumped up and down on the spot, his movements growing more urgent. But Arthur remained completely absorbed, his back turned as he stared pensively at the far wall, deep in thought as he tried to decipher the ancient carvings.
Grabbing fistfuls of his own hair in sheer frustration, Garth looked ready to rip it out. He quickly scanned the rubble scattered around the platform, then bent down and picked up a suitably sized rock. He bounced it in his palm, testing its weight, before cocking his arm back as far as he could.
The rock sailed through the air in a clean arc and struck Arthur squarely on the back of the head with a solid thunk.
Arthur flinched in surprise, letting out a startled grunt as he whipped around, rubbing the spot frantically while looking in every direction in confusion. “?!”
His gaze finally landed on Garth, who was still waving his arms wildly. Garth pointed emphatically at the space around them, then made broad gestures toward the fallen and broken pillars, miming the motion of straightening and aligning them.
Arthur didn’t fully understand why, but he trusted the boy. He gave a quick nod and got to work. Using his superhuman strength, he began shoving the massive broken pillars out of the way, muscles straining as stone grated against stone. One particularly stubborn pillar had to be forced into place against the wall; Arthur crouched low in the narrow gap and pushed with his back, shoulders braced, until it clicked satisfyingly into its original position.
That was when he noticed it — a section of the wall that protruded slightly, with a perfectly shaped slot where something clearly needed to be inserted.
Arthur scanned the floor quickly, tossing aside large chunks of rubble until his hand closed around a dusty, rusted object. He lifted it high: an old hand crank, worn with age but unmistakably the missing piece.
Grinning triumphantly, he held it up for Garth to see and raised both arms in celebration.
Garth mirrored him instantly, pumping both fists high in the air with an equally wide, victorious grin.
“What are you two seriously doing?” Mera asked, rising from where she had been focused behind the throne. She tried — and failed — to suppress an amused laugh as she looked between them.
“Oh thank all the sea gods!! I can speak again!” Garth shouted dramatically, clutching his chest in exaggerated relief. He hurried over, eagerly grabbing Mera’s hand and pulling her along. “Come here, quick! Stand exactly where I’m standing.” His voice bubbled with excitement. “Now tell me — what do you see?”
Mera narrowed her eyes at first, studying the newly arranged chamber. Then her eyes widened in genuine surprise. “It’s a map,” she breathed. “A map of Aurumara… the Deserter Kingdom.”
“And the place where Arthur is standing right now?” Garth asked, motioning excitedly toward the far corner of the room.
Mera’s lips curved into a bright, knowing smile. “The compass…”
Arthur inserted the old hand crank into the center of the giant compass mechanism and gripped it firmly. He gave it a cautious turn, but the moment he applied even the slightest pressure, the rusted metal snapped cleanly in half. He stared down at the broken pieces in his hands with a disappointed sigh.
“Well… there goes that,” Arthur muttered, his shoulders slumping. His gaze drifted to the glowing sapphire pearl resting against his chest, and a spark of inspiration lit up his eyes.
He summoned his trident with a flourish, turning it over in his hands before carefully inserting the thick shaft into the slot. “It’s a perfect fit,” he grinned. With renewed confidence, he began to rotate it once more.
The accumulated rust and age fought back fiercely. Deep within the palace walls, long-dormant gears groaned and screeched in protest, the metallic sounds echoing loudly through the chamber. Arthur strained with effort, his muscles bulging as he slowly forced the ancient mechanism to turn. The entire room seemed to shudder in response.
“Look! The middle section in the center is opening!” Garth called out excitedly, pointing toward the heart of the room where stone panels were grinding apart.
“Yeah, but I’m afraid the mechanisms have been out of commission for far too long,” Mera said wearily, her expression hardening with concern. “Father Time isn’t far from claiming them for good.”
“What do you mean?” Garth asked, tilting his head in confusion.
“I mean everything here is ancient and unstable,” Mera replied, her voice urgent. “It’s about to collapse. Look!” She gestured sharply toward the walls. Jagged cracks were rapidly spreading across the stone surfaces, growing wider and more menacing with every rotation of the crank. The structure could no longer withstand the stress. With a thunderous rumble, the entire chamber began falling apart around them.
“Arthur, stop!!” Mera shouted desperately.
But her warning came too late.
A shower of rubble and debris rained down from above. Giant, rusted metal gears suddenly burst free from the walls, rolling and crashing across the floor like runaway boulders.
“Garth!!” Mera cried as she glanced upward. The massive ceiling was giving way directly over them.
In a flash, she grabbed him tightly and leaped off the platform just as an enormous chunk of the ceiling came crashing down. It obliterated the throne into a hundred glittering fragments where they had been standing moments before.
Adrenaline surged through Garth’s veins as they fell from such a height. His body moved on pure instinct. His eyes shimmered with a vibrant purple hue. Shifting within Mera’s grasp, he thrust his hands forward. A small swirling ball of heat formed between his palms, and suddenly a powerful wave of fire erupted outward. The roaring flames slowed their descent, gently cushioning them as the palace continued to collapse all around them.
The shaking finally stopped as the last of the giant gears toppled over with heavy, resounding crashes, landing flat on their sides and kicking up clouds of dust.
“How did you do that?” Mera asked, stunned, as they touched down safely.
“I… I don’t know,” Garth replied, staring at his own palms in disbelief. “I just thought about how I didn’t want us to fall or for you to get hurt… and then the fire came.” A wide, proud grin slowly spread across his face, his eyes still glowing with wonder and excitement.
“Sorry about that!!” Arthur shouted sheepishly from across the ruined chamber, rubbing the back of his neck. “Should’ve really thought that through…”
Garth and Mera turned toward him, then glanced down at the broken piece of the shattered throne lying at their feet.
Mera bent down, picked it up, and tossed it lightly into the air before catching it again with a confident smirk. “So tell me honestly — aren’t you glad I went the extra step to memorize it?”
Garth pursed his lips in a playful pout and looked away, crossing his arms. “You had absolutely no idea that was going to happen.”
“That’s kinda the point I’m trying to make, Garth,” Mera replied, her smirk widening into a warm laugh.
Garth tried to hold his pout for a second longer before he cracked, joining her in laughter. The three of them stood amid the destruction, amused more than anything, bonded by yet another chaotic but victorious moment in their unpredictable journey.