The Order of Pendragon
"Knights of that idiot?" said Mor upon hearing the story of Sally and the children's last visit to Diagon Alley, while they excitedly recounted how they had seen real knights… and how their mother had been rescued like a princess.
"Aunt Mor said a bad word," Percy blurted instantly, laughing mischievously.
Mor merely rolled her eyes before ruffling his hair, ignoring his protests as he tried to wriggle free from her hands.
"Aunt Mor, do you not like knights?" Harry asked curiously.
"Mm… well, it's not that I dislike all knights. Just the ones who created that order in particular," Mor replied calmly, thoughtful for a moment. Then her lips tightened. "An old fool… and an arrogant brat." The tone hinted at annoyance, as if she were recalling something unpleasant.
"Again!" shouted Percy, still not learning his lesson, which made Mor grab his cheeks and knead them like dough.
Sally smiled faintly. "Seems wizards don't get along too well with them."
"Well, that makes sense." Mor released Percy just as Lia appeared at her side with a cup of tea, which she accepted casually. Percy was left disheveled, cheeks flushed, while the woman sipped calmly. "Many of those knights once fought against wizards, defending their kingdom. But later, some of them also joined those who began hunting witches and harming the magical world."
"So… knights are bad?" Percy asked, frowning.
"Not exactly." Mor set the cup down on the table. "I suppose the ones who remain now exist only to prevent the awakening of a certain beautiful and dangerous witch." A sly smile crossed her face. "It's a shame their existence is pointless. Although… I admit they serve to protect non-magical folk when some idiot with delusions of grandeur tries to dominate them. If one hasn't already appeared. Their mere presence makes those fools think twice."
She spoke with the same ease one might use to comment on the weather, while Harry and Percy looked at each other, not fully understanding, and shrugged.
"That's too bad. Mr. Adrien said it's better not to go to Diagon Alley for a few days. I wanted to go bother my teacher," Percy complained.
"Ah, I don't think anything will happen if you go calmly," Mor answered with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Meanwhile, Sally narrowed her eyes, watching her in silence, connecting the pieces: Mor leaving with the promise of never returning, warning that searching for her would endanger the family because she was the enemy of the magical world… and yet, reappearing barely a week later. The knights searching for something stolen, Adrien alarmed after that signal and sending them home, insisting they stay away from the wizarding world. Everything fit together a little too well.
But then she looked at her, there with Harry and Percy, teaching them like a true aunt, laughing with them, giving them what they had never had. And in the end, Sally decided to let it go.
…
Meanwhile, in the halls of a great mansion, whose main window offered a direct view of an imposing castle, Adrien advanced quickly alongside Luther and Arthur.
They no longer wore their traditional armor; instead, they were dressed in dark uniforms unlike any other. Navy-blue fitted jackets, trimmed in gold, fell firmly over straight trousers of the same shade. On their chests stood out the embroidered emblem of a golden dragon, symbol of their lineage, while cords and epaulettes gleamed discreetly on their shoulders. Black leather belts, fastened with golden buckles, completed their bearing, crowned by navy berets adorned with the same dragon insignia. Each step resounded with military discipline, the echo of modern soldiers still carrying the heritage of ancient knights.
At their waists hung swords, different from those of the past, weapons adapted to their new status as special soldiers.
The mansion bustled with activity. Soldiers in the same uniform patrolled the corridors and halls, saluting sharply when Adrien and his companions passed. Luther, without pausing, answered with a curt gesture for them to continue their duties.
Arriving before a large office, Adrien pushed the doors open without bothering to knock. Luther and Arthur exchanged a glance before following him inside.
Within, several people stood at attention in the same uniforms, while an elder sat behind a wide desk cluttered with documents. At their entrance, every gaze turned toward them. The atmosphere was suffocating to anyone else, though Adrien seemed immune. In fact, the others straightened even more and greeted in unison.
"Sir Adrien."
"Drop it…" Adrien dismissed, walking straight to the elder. "Did it appear?"
The older man barely lifted his eyes from the documents, regarded him for an instant, then returned to his papers. He turned a page, tossed it aside, and finally pointed to what lay at the center of the desk: a letter written on papyrus, already opened, topped by a great seal any wizard would recognize at a glance. The Council of the Order of Merlin.
"No. Nothing has appeared yet. Even so, it's better to prepare. That old man from the Council has already summoned the supposed heroes worthy of their medals." He let out a rough laugh. "Though we all know half of those 'heroes' are nothing but fools."
Once, knights and wizards had been closer. But the centuries changed everything. With the separation of the magical world from the mortal one, and with every year that wizards claimed children born to non-magical families, dragging them into their hidden society, the tensions grew. The knights, faithful servants of the crown, despised the wizards more and more, viewing them as traitors to their own land.
"Any news of the thief of the hero's broken sword?" asked the old man, his gaze fixed on Adrien.
"Yes. We have several suspects. A wizard with a strange eye gave us valuable information." Adrien remained serious. "It seems they might be the former followers of that dangerous wizard who caused chaos before falling, five years ago. The same idiots who once tried to attack us."
"But they were too late." The old man frowned. "Those stupid wizards knew what the sword was for. And even then, when we sent the order to recover it immediately, they did nothing."
Adrien clenched his jaw. "What do you want me to do? Continue the search?"
"Yes. The fools who dared to steal our hero's sword and used it to unleash calamity must be found and imprisoned. And the world must see what happens when someone meddles with us."
The elder paused for a moment, thoughtful, then added: "Take that idiot with you as well. I suppose his connection to the magical world will be of some use."
Adrien looked at him with disgust, though he restrained himself.
Some of the knights present, however, allowed themselves a faint smile of hidden satisfaction.
"I don't think that's necessary," Adrien replied at once, his tone dry, the voice of a man resisting an order he did not share.
"He's the only wizard we can use at the moment. The other three are on vacation. You'd better make use of him; let him prove some usefulness, or he'll end up unemployed." The elder's voice admitted no argument. "There are many places that even the medal cannot reveal. And what will you do? Point your medals at random, hoping to stumble upon a hidden magical enclave?" His eyes bore into Adrien with severity.
Luther and Arthur exchanged terrified glances.
"Perhaps our great Adrien could try to bring another wizard into our order if he doesn't want to take that… man." The mocking voice came from a knight at the back of the room, one of the few who hadn't bothered to salute Adrien when he entered. Arms crossed, he wore a smile that seemed to have been waiting for this very moment to provoke. "Though I doubt it. His last visit didn't leave a good impression. Well, maybe this last one went better…"
All eyes turned toward him. The man resembled Adrien, yet carried a freer air, clearly intent on provoking him.
Adrien frowned. "Brother, please, stay out of this."
"Come on, little brother, you can't keep pestering our grandfather. Just take the idiot… oh, pardon, our invited wizard. Ah, wait. The descendant of that man is about to finish his vacation. You can take him as well." His smile widened.
For a moment, Adrien's usually calm face broke. In his mind, both options were equally undesirable. One was worse than the other. And his brother knew it, savoring his discomfort.
"Grandfather, since that man will be returning, wouldn't it be better to have another group assisting?" Adrien intervened quickly.
"Indeed. That brat is about to return. Even better. Dorian, you will take your team as well. We'll put both wizards to work at the same time." The elder nodded, settling the matter.
Dorian's mocking smile disappeared instantly. His jaw tightened as several suppressed laughs escaped from the others. Even Adrien looked at him with a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes, pleased to drag his brother down with him. Dorian, in turn, glared at him with silent hatred and a clear desire for confrontation.
Luther, unable to bear the tension any longer, stepped forward. His voice came out rushed, as if it were his one chance at salvation.
"General, perhaps we could invite a witch we met during an investigation. She didn't seem to have problems with the knights, and still belongs to our world without being swallowed by the magical one."
The elder looked at him sternly. "And how do you know she didn't approach for another reason? After all, even if those two are idiots, they were the only wizards who passed the tests."
"Sir, she has two children. And it seems as if she only entered that world for them, for their safety. Now more than ever, she may need greater protection. If we offer it, surely she'll accept our help." Adrien stepped in, his calm tone betraying the calculation behind his words.
The old man narrowed his eyes at his grandson. "I see. Very well, you may invite her and give her that protection. But if she wishes to join, she must undergo the same tests."
Then he turned to Dorian, who stared back in disbelief. "And you? Do you have someone, or will you choose one of the two idiots?"
Dorian opened his mouth, then shut it at once. He had no one.
"Then choose one of the two. The other will form another group if Adrien succeeds in inviting that witch. Let it be…" The elder's gaze swept across the room. Some tried to shrink back, hoping not to be chosen.
"Gema, you go," the elder said, pointing at one of the few women present.
"Ugh…" The woman let out an audible groan, throwing Adrien a pleading look, silently begging that the witch never accept the invitation.
She was beautiful, her wavy blonde hair cascading like a waterfall. The soldier's uniform accentuated her sculpted, battle-trained figure.
Adrien noticed her reaction and didn't waste the opportunity. "Then, grandfather, I'll take my leave. Let my brother and Gemini choose between the idiot descendant and the foolish writer." With that cutting remark, he turned and strode out.
Arthur and Luther followed, relieved. A breath of hope escaped them: if Sally accepted, all she would have to do was confirm the existence of hidden magical villages. After all, though the knights' armors allowed them to see magical creatures, they could not reveal the locations of entire settlements. The medals could serve, yes—but only if they knew where to point them.