Chapter 11: Chapter Ten

The truck rattled to a stop on the side of a quiet country road, the crunch of gravel beneath the tires the only sound as Gavin killed the engine. The sudden stillness felt deafening, amplifying the tension that still lingered between them like an unspoken threat. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back against the seat, dragging a hand over his face as if he could wipe away the frustration clinging to him.

He could feel Felicity beside him, unmoving, her presence sharp and stiff with unsaid words. He didn't dare look at her. He wasn't ready for whatever expression he'd find—anger, disappointment, that infuriating calm of hers that always seemed to see right through him. Right now, the silence between them felt too thick, too charged, as if one wrong word could set it all off again.

The road stretched out in front of them, a long, empty ribbon of asphalt disappearing into the horizon. The surrounding trees swayed lazily in the breeze, their leaves whispering secrets to one another. It should have been peaceful. It should have felt like a breath of relief after everything.

But it didn't.

Not with everything that had happened. Not with the weight of their argument still pressing down on him. And definitely not with the shadow agents still out there, hunting them.

"I just need a minute," Felicity said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Gavin turned his head toward her, frowning. "A minute for what?"

"To think," she replied curtly, her tone sharper than usual.

Felicity reached for the door handle and stepped out before Gavin could say another word, the soft clunk of the door breaking the thick silence between them. The moment her feet hit the ground, she put a few steps between herself and the truck, her boots thudding against the ground as she moved.

For a long moment, Gavin just sat there, gripping the steering wheel as he watched her through the windshield. The wind tugged at the loose strands of her hair, but she didn't brush them away. Instead, she stood still, her shoulders hunched, arms wrapped tightly around herself as if bracing against more than just the cool night air.

His chest tightened, a sensation he couldn't quite name settling uncomfortably beneath his ribs. He didn't know why—why the sight of her like this made something inside him twist, why the space she'd put between them felt wider than it really was.

Maybe it was the way her body seemed smaller, more fragile in the dim light, despite the strength he knew she carried. Or maybe it was the simple fact that, for the first time in a long time, she looked... tired. Not just physically, but deeply, like the weight of everything was finally pressing down on her.

Gavin exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before finally pushing open his own door. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, but he couldn't just sit there. Not when she looked like that.

With a groan, he shoved the door open and climbed out. "Hey," he called, his voice softer than before. "What's going on?"

She didn't turn to face him, her back still to him as she stared at the trees lining the road. "I said I needed a minute, Gavin."

"Well, we're not exactly swimming in time," he replied, stepping closer. "If this is about what I said earlier—"

"It's not," she interrupted, her voice taut. "Or maybe it is. I know not of my own feelings anymore."

He stopped a few feet behind her, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "Look, I know I've been a jerk," he admitted. "I just... I don't know how to deal with all this, okay? I'm just trying to keep my head above water here."

Felicity let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "You think this is hard for you?" she said, finally turning to face him. Her green eyes were bright with frustration, her cheeks flushed. "Try being the one who's supposed to fix everything. Try carrying the weight of an entire kingdom on your shoulders while the one person you need to help you refuses to believe anything you say."

Gavin flinched at her words. Perhaps she was flustered as much as he was. At least they had that in common.

"Okay, so tell me why you think Camelot needs to be saved." He bumped his arm playfully against hers and gave her an encouraging smile.

"Well, when King Marten died—"

"Who is King Marten?" he asked.

One corner of her mouth lifted in a half-grin. "Your father."

He nodded. "Continue."

"When your father died, his brother, Hector, took over as king. He is more selfish and greddy than your father, and he doesn't care about the people in Camelot. The kingdom is becoming worse every year, and it's all because of Hector. Camelot needs the rightful ruler—King Arthur." She paused before adding. "You, Gavin."

He scratched his chin. "And I suppose I marry a woman named Guinevere? And one of my first knights is Sir Lancelot?"

She scrunched her forehead. "What are you talking about? I haven't heard of these people."

"Fine." He sighed. "So, how am I supposed to make the kingdom better?"

"Just your presence will give the people hope. Knowing their rightful king has returned, people will band together to fight those those who follow Morgana, and get rid of the shadowed agents once and for all."

Gavin was slowly starting to understand the dilemma, trying to translate the issue into his modern thinking and the way the country was being ran in today's world. "So, all we need to do is get rid of the crappy ruler and put in someone who loves the people and wants to make every happy?"

Her face brightened. "Indeed, that is the way."

"Who is this Morgana woman, anyway? What is her story?"

Felicity shrugged. "All I know is that she is some kind of witch."

He arched an eyebrow. "A witch? Really?"

"She is pure evil, I assure you."

"Well, if your grandfather is Merlin, the greatest wizard of all, why can't he stop her?"

"Grandfather is old, and he cannot do it himself. He told me once that from the moment you were born, he knew that King Arthur would bring peace to Camelot."

Gavin stared out at the dark stretch of road, his mind drifting against his will. He'd grown up watching movies about King Arthur—about honor, destiny, and magic woven into the fabric of legend. And Merlin had always fascinated him. A man of wisdom, power, and mystery, respected for his mind as much as his magic. People admired him. Just as they revered Arthur, the king who led with courage and conviction.

If two brilliant men like that had truly existed and worked together, what couldn't they have accomplished? The thought barely had time to take root before Gavin shoved it aside. What am I thinking?

None of it was real. Arthur, Merlin, Camelot—it was all just myth and stories passed down through the ages, made into Hollywood fantasies. Just like Felicity.

Or at least, she should have been.

Yet there she was, wrapped in her own thoughts, just as real as the wind that stirred her hair and the cold that seeped into his skin. She felt real—more real than anything he'd ever known.

If only he could believe in the things she said.

But even if he did—even if everything she claimed was true—what difference would it make? What could he possibly do?

Absolutely nothing.

Because Gavin wasn't some great king. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't the kind of man people followed into battle, or looked to for leadership. The only thing he was good for was riding a horse and playacting in a medieval tournament, pretending to be the Red Knight in front of an audience who had no idea that it was all just a show.

When it came to real life—the things that actually mattered—he sucked.

"Well, if things are as bad as they seem," he said, "I can see your urgency to get back home to bring peace to the kingdom."

Her pretty eyes twinkled as her smile widened. She clasped onto his hands, squeezing them in a comfortable hold. "Exactly. And we cannot allow anything to stop us."

Warmth wrapped around Gavin, seeping into his skin like the lingering heat of a dying fire. It was comforting, familiar in a way he couldn't explain. He opened his mouth, ready to say something—anything—but before he could, the air around Felicity began to shift.

A faint shimmer flickered around her, delicate and barely perceptible at first, like the haze of heat rising off pavement in the summer. It rippled, distorting the space around her in a way that made his vision blur at the edges. For a moment, he thought it was a trick of the light, but the shimmer didn't fade. Instead, it grew stronger, pulsing with a quiet energy that sent a strange tingle across his skin.

The space around her seemed to bend, as though reality itself was adjusting, molding, reshaping—something deep and ancient stirring beneath the surface. Gavin's breath hitched, his pulse pounding in his ears as the warmth shifted from comforting to something else entirely.

Something powerful.

Gavin frowned, his gaze narrowing as he noticed the way the light seemed to bend and ripple behind her. "What the..."

Felicity froze, her eyes widening as if she felt it too. "Oh no," she whispered. "Not now."

"Not now what?" Gavin demanded, taking a step back. "What's happening?"

Before she could answer, the shimmering light intensified, expanding outward in waves that rippled through the air like heat rising off the pavement. It bent and twisted the space around her, warping reality itself, and for a moment, Gavin wasn't sure if he was seeing something beautiful or something completely impossible.

His breath caught, his pulse hammering in his ears as the glow deepened, shifting between gold and silver, pulsing like a heartbeat. Then—suddenly—the light snapped into focus.

With a burst of energy, the shimmer solidified, coalescing into form.

From Felicity's back, delicate, translucent wings unfurled, glowing with an ethereal light that seemed to pulse with every slow, rhythmic movement. They were impossibly intricate, their veins laced with strands of shimmering gold, like something spun from moonlight and magic itself. The edges rippled as they stretched outward, catching the air with an effortless grace, as if they had always been there, waiting beneath the surface.

He barely breathed. The sight was mesmerizing, unreal—and yet, deep in his gut, something about it felt inevitable.

Felicity wasn't just saying she was different.

She was.

Gavin stumbled back as he stared wide-eyed at the foreign objects. "What is that?" he exclaimed, his voice rising.

Felicity let out a groan, her hands moving to her temples. "Of course this happens now," she muttered.

"Wings," Gavin said, his voice shaking. "You have wings. Why do you have wings?"

"Because I'm a fairy," she snapped, her irritation cutting through her embarrassment. "I told you this. You didn't believe me. But here is the proof that what I've been saying is real."

He pointed at her, his hand trembling. "You—you didn't say anything about hiding a whole pair of glowing... things on your back!"

"I don't 'hide' them," she said, glancing over her shoulder at the wings. "They usually don't appear unless I summon them. And I wasn't trying to summon them, so this—" She gestured to the wings with both hands. "—is entirely unhelpful right now."

Gavin let out a disbelieving laugh, raking a hand through his hair. "Unhelpful? You've got glowing fairy wings, and you're calling them unhelpful? What the crap is going on?"

"They're just a physical manifestation of my magic. They don't make me stronger, they don't fix my problems, and they certainly don't make you any less skeptical. They just help me to fly from one place to another." She paused, and then cringed. "Oh, and sometimes I make myself smaller, in order to fly, of course. It's easier that way."

He stared at her, his chest heaving as he tried to process what he was seeing. The wings moved slightly as she spoke, catching the light in a way that made them look almost ethereal. Despite everything, he couldn't look away.

"This is real," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "This is actually real."

"Yes, Gavin," Felicity said, her tone softening. "It's real. Everything I've told you is real. Do you believe me now?"

He didn't answer immediately, his gaze shifting from her face to her wings and back again. His mind was spinning, trying to reconcile the impossible with what he was seeing. Finally, he let out a shaky breath and nodded.

"As crazy as it seems, I believe you," he said, his voice quiet. "I don't get it, but... I believe you."

A small, relieved smile crossed her lips, and her wings folded slightly behind her. "Thank you."

He let out a faint laugh, shaking his head. "You've got wings," he said again, as if saying it out loud would make it easier to comprehend. "What's your next surprise?"

She smirked, some of her usual confidence returning. "Well, if I had my wand, I would entertain you further."

His laugh came easier this time, though his hands were still shaking. "Of course. Why didn't I think of that?"

Felicity reached out, resting a hand lightly on his arm. "It's a lot, I know. But we'll figure it out. Together."

Gavin stared into her eyes—eyes that were deep, steady, human. More human than they had any right to be for someone who had just revealed herself to be... not.

His mind scrambled for logic, for reason, for something to hold onto that would let him dismiss what he was seeing. But there was nothing. No trick of the light, no rational explanation. Just Felicity, standing before him, her newly unfurled wings glowing softly in the dim night air, the golden veins within them pulsing like living things.

And yet, despite it all, despite the impossible truth shimmering before him, she was still her.

Not some mythical creature, not just a story from a childhood fairytale—Felicity. The same stubborn, sharp-witted, maddeningly calm woman who had dragged him into this chaos. The same woman who, against all odds, he had come to trust.

For the first time, Gavin felt the cracks in his disbelief widen, the rigid walls of denial he had clung to beginning to crumble. The impossible pieces of her story—the things he had laughed off, rejected, feared—were finally clicking into place.

This wasn't just her fight anymore.

It was theirs.

* * * *

The truck sat parked in a small clearing off the road, surrounded by towering trees that swayed gently in the morning breeze. The golden light of the risen sun filtered through the branches, dappling the ground in shifting patterns. Birds called in the distance, their songs mingling with the rustle of leaves, and for a fleeting moment, the world felt still—almost peaceful.

Felicity sat on the tailgate, her legs swinging absently as she let the cool air brush against her skin. Her wings had vanished not long ago, leaving her feeling lighter, freer. There was relief in knowing that Gavin had finally begun to believe her, but it did little to ease the weight pressing on her chest. Their battle was only beginning, and the road ahead was still shrouded in uncertainty.

Still, there were... small victories.

Earlier, Gavin had stopped at a strange little station to add a foul-smelling, thick liquid to his truck—something he called gas. He'd also bought an assortment of unfamiliar food, referring to them as sandwiches, chips, and soda. The sandwiches had been delicious, the chips addictively salty, but the soda? That had been another story entirely.

It had tickled her tongue and made her nose tingle in a most peculiar way, and though she'd swallowed it without complaint, she had immediately fought the overwhelming urge to—what had Gavin called it? Burp?

Absolutely out of the question.

Even if she was wearing these odd clothes—leggings that clung to her legs like a second skin, a tunic much too large for her frame—she was still a lady.

Gavin, meanwhile, leaned against the side of the truck, finishing the last of his food before tossing the empty bottle into the bag. He wiped his hands against his jeans, then folded his arms over his chest, watching her with a look that hovered somewhere between skepticism and contemplation.

The earlier awkwardness had faded, replaced with something quieter. Something closer to curiosity.

His gaze lingered, his brows furrowing slightly as though he were trying to work through an impossibly complicated puzzle—one that had somehow landed in the passenger seat of his truck and turned his entire life upside down.

"So," he said after a long moment, "can we talk about what happened the other day before you... you know, disappeared in my truck?"

Felicity tilted her head in curiosity. Was he referring to that magical, time-altering kiss—or when she had used her wand last? And why did he want to talk about that when he hadn't asked her questions about her wing?

"What part of it?" she wondered. "The shadow agent? The part where you didn't believe me? Or the kiss?"

Gavin's ears turned slightly red, but he smirked faintly. "Let's start with the part where you vanished. That's where things got... weird."

She folded her hands in her lap, thinking back to that night. "It wasn't intentional," she said softly. "I didn't mean to leave like that. I think it was the magic—the chaos of it. It pulled me away before I could explain anything to you."

"Pulled you away?" Gavin echoed, his brows arching. "How does that even work?"

"It's complicated," she said, shifting slightly. "Magic is unpredictable when emotions run high. And, well—" She hesitated, her cheeks warming. "That moment with you—when we kissed—there was a lot of energy. Too much, apparently."

"Energy," Gavin said, his voice laced with disbelief. "That's your explanation? Energy?"

"It's real," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "Magic reacts to feelings, Gavin. Strong emotions can amplify it—or, in my case, throw it completely out of control. I think that's what happened when we kissed. It triggered something, and when my fingers brushed against my wand, I think that was what made me disappear."

"Whoa, hold on a second. You were holding your wand when I kissed you?"

She chuckled. "No. It was hiding in my sleeve."

"Your sleeve? Really?"

She nodded. "I think I felt nervous about the kiss, because it literally knocked me senseless, and well, I fidgeted and brushed my fingers across the wand."

Gavin rubbed the back of his neck, his expression torn between disbelief and reluctant acceptance. "It knocked you senseless, too, huh?"

"Yes," she said, her voice firm. "And when I reappeared, the wand was missing. I think I dropped it in the chaos. I don't remember exactly when or where, but it's been missing ever since."

Gavin frowned. "That's weird, though. If you lost it that night, wouldn't it still be back near the arena?"

"That's what I thought too," she admitted, looking away. "But I've been there, and I searched everywhere but didn't find it. Then I thought... I thought maybe one of Morgana's agents took it."

"Would the shadow agents be able to take it without you knowing?"

"I don't think so. At least I hope not."

Gavin's gaze drifted toward the truck's cab. "What about my truck?" he asked suddenly.

Felicity blinked, confused. "What about it?"

"You said you disappeared right after the kiss, right? And we were inside on the seat," he said. "What if it fell somewhere on the floor or in between the cushions?"

She stared at him as her mind pieced together every moment of that incredible kiss and being in his strong arms. "You think it might still be here?"

"It's worth a look." He jumped off the tailgate and moved toward the passenger side. "I haven't exactly cleaned out this thing since we met, so who knows?"

Felicity followed him, her heart pounding as hope ignited in her chest. She wasn't sure what she expected, but every movement Gavin made felt weighted, deliberate, as if he had finally decided something—something that might change everything.

He pulled open the truck door, the worn hinges creaking softly in the quiet morning air. Bending down, he reached for the duffle bag sitting on the floorboard. The zipper had been left partially undone, its contents spilling slightly into view—old gym clothes, crumpled papers, a half-empty water bottle rolling lazily with the shift of the bag. Nothing remarkable. Nothing magical.

And yet, as Gavin hauled the bag out and set it down on the ground, dust kicking up around it, the moment felt heavier than it should have. Like something unspoken had just passed between them.

Felicity swallowed, hands tightening at her sides. Was this it? Was this the moment he truly stepped into this world with her?

She wasn't sure. But she wasn't about to look away.

"It's probably not in here," he muttered, unzipping the bag fully. "But let's—"

He stopped mid-sentence, his words dying on his lips as his hand froze. His breath hitched. Slowly, carefully, he pulled his hand free and lifted it into the sunlight.

Her wand.

Slender and polished, its dark surface gleamed, the wood impossibly smooth yet humming with an energy she felt more than saw. Intricate runes ran along its length, delicate etchings that shimmered faintly in the morning light, shifting as if alive.

Gavin gulped noisily.

He tore his gaze away from it and looked at Felicity, searching her face for answers.

Felicity gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "My wand!" Her voice trembled with a mix of shock and relief. "You found it!"

Gavin stared at the object in his hand as if not believing what he saw. "This is it? This little stick is what all the fuss is about?"

"It's not a stick," Felicity said, snatching it from him. The moment her fingers curled around it, a warm surge of magic pulsed through her, lighting up the ancient letters on the handle with a soft, golden glow. She exhaled deeply, her shoulders relaxing as the familiar energy filled her. "It's part of me. And without it, I'm incomplete."

Gavin stepped back, shaking his head in disbelief. "That's wild," he said. "You really can't do anything without it?"

"I can," she said, twirling the wand gently between her fingers. "But it's harder. Messier. The wand focuses my magic, makes it stronger and more precise."

His forehead creased as he looked at her. "Were you the one who enlarged Lance's feet?"

She hiccupped an embarrassed laugh. "Well, I had put him to sleep with the wand, but I was in a hurry, so... I might not have focused enough."

He smiled and shook his head. "Then I suggest, flying to him and fixing his foot size. He can't ride a horse otherwise."

"All right. I shall do that later."

"So, now that you've got the wand, what's next?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"Now," she said, "we stop running. We face the shadow agents. And we get you ready to save Camelot."

Gavin's throat jumped as though he was taking a hard swallow. "I don't know what terrifies me more—the idea of fighting shadow agents, or the look in your eyes that tells me you mean every word."

She stepped closer to him, placing her hand on his chest. "Gavin, I have more confidence now that you found the wand. In fact, leaving your world will be easy. It's arriving in Camelot that might bring on complications."

His eyebrow arched. "Why?"

"Because since I've been gone, I don't know what kind of havoc Morgana has created. Hopefully, it's something you and my grandfather can repair."

Gavin blew out a gush of air from his mouth. "That's something I'm not looking forward to." He frowned. "I don't want to fail."

She wondered how she could get his confidence back. When she first met him, he had it in bulks, but now... Had she ruined him on accident?

Inwardly, she groaned. Was this yet another mistake she had to fix?