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The Darkling Woods felt strangely motionless, like time hadn't actually passed within the forest for a long time. Even the air felt close-knit and still, almost oppressive. At first, the trio tried to keep up their lighthearted banter. But that quickly started to feel wrong, almost offensive, as though they were desecrating something sacred by disrupting the unearthly silence.

They moved slowly. There wasn't a cleared path, and their horses had to pick carefully over the forest foliage, gnarled roots and mossy stones. Clay kept getting hit by low-hanging branches, which made the other two snicker. George kept his map out the entire time, guiding them past milestones.

The forest quickly lived up to its dangerous reputation. Almost an hour in, the dense trees suddenly gave way to a ravine that was completely hidden until Sapnap's horse was faltering on the edge, scrambling on loose earth. George had to jerk his hand up, forcing the ground to stay still for a few seconds longer until Clay could grab the reins of Sapnap's horse and yank them back to solid ground, just as the edge of the cliff gave way into a rockslide.

"Thanks, Clay," Sapnap said, his eyes wide, and they continued on.

A little while later, Clay pulled them to a stop, holding out a hand in warning, as something crashed through the forest in front of them. The trio froze in their place as they saw an enormous wild boar push through the trees, its snout waving in the air. The boar was huge, nearly five feet tall and two hundred pounds, with long, sharp tusks.

It looked their way, and then it let out an awful squeal as it started to race directly towards George, crashing through the forest.

George pulled his horse back, but his sleep-deprived brain short-circuited – he had no idea how to stop the rampaging beast, and for a second he thought the thing might gore Daisy with its tusks until two arrows flew through the air and embedded themselves in the boar's side, making it rear back, crying in pain. Clay knocked back another arrow and let it fly, and the boar fled, running into the forest and disappearing from sight.

George looked at Clay with astonishment.

"You alright?" the prince asked, securing his bow on his back.

"Yeah," George breathed.

"Good thing we have Clay here to protect us, huh, George?" Sapnap said with a faint chuckle. George just swallowed.

A few hours later, George brought the group to a stop.

"Do you hear that?" he asked.

Through the muffled air, they could hear something that sounded faintly like rushing water. They followed the sound until they came across a wide, shallow river with a steady current, bubbling and frothing over a rocky riverbed.

George moved closer to Clay to show him the map. "We go south from here, and then west at the river's bend."

"Why are we trusting George with the map again?" Sapnap sniped from behind them. "He has a hard time navigating to his own room most days."

"That was one time," Clay jumped to George's defense. "And only because you kept giving him whiskey."

"Okay, fair," Sapnap snorted. "But if George gets us lost and we run out of food, I know who we're eating first."

"Gross, Sapnap."

The noise of the river broke the solemn tension a little bit, and as their horses plodded along the riverbank, the three of them fell into easy conversation to pass the time. George even found himself enjoying the ride, looking around at the thick forest around them as his horse plodded a little bit behind Clay and Sapnap's. Yet he thought that Clay was still a little quiet, a little serious. The prince seemed lost in his thoughts multiple times, staring at the running water like he was looking for something hidden in the river.

Eventually, the daylight started to fade.

"Should we find a place to camp?" Sapnap asked, but George peered at his map.

"Let's keep going just a little longer," he said. "We should be getting close."

"Close to what?" Clay said, but only a moment later, their ears picked up on something new. It was the sound of the river magnified a hundred times, a thundering sound that made Clay and Sapnap glance at George with interest.

The trio picked up the pace, trotting along the river bank. It sloped gently around a dense part of the forest –

And then they were staring at an enormous waterfall, the river thundering and frothing over the rocks at the bottom of a large cliff. Below them spread a huge lake, glittering in the sun that was just beginning to set over the western horizon. There was a small clearing around the lake, with soft grass circling the lake's sandy beach.

George, Sapnap, and Clay stood at the top of the cliff, staring at the lake in wonder.

"Okay," Clay said, nodding definitively. "This is where we camp."

Their horses picked their way down the side of the cliff easily enough, and the trio dismounted once they reached the grassy clearing, starting to unpack their things for the night. George trailed off into the forest to collect kindling for the fire, but when he returned, he realized that the other two weren't setting up camp at all – they were dunking each other in the water, half-clothed.

"What are you idiots doing?" he shouted at them just as Sapnap tackled Clay under water.

Dream came up to the surface, water pouring off of him, shaking his wet hair like a dog. "George, get in here!"

"Absolutely not," George said, wrinkling his nose. "I'm not getting all wet right before dinner."

"Geoorge," Dream called playfully, and George noticed with alarm that he was starting to move towards him. "I said, get in here."

"Don't you dare," George warned, taking a few steps back.

But Dream had made up his mind. He suddenly lunged onto the beach, sprinting up to George and scooping him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing. George shrieked in protest, hitting Dream's back with his fists, but Dream just laughed, running towards the lake and tossing him in the water.

George came up gasping for air, water trickling into his eyes, and Sapnap laughed so hard he accidentally dunked his own head under the surface.

"That is so not fair," he complained at Dream, who grinned wickedly, swimming towards him.

"Oh, come on," Dream said playfully. "You love me."

The words caught George slightly off-guard, and he reacted by shoving Dream's head under, seeing air pockets bubble up as Dream laughed from underwater. Despite the cold of the lake, George felt warmth rise up in his chest, and he swam backwards a little bit, unable to deny that it felt good to swim, to stretch his limbs after the long, uncomfortable horse ride.

They got out of the lake to get dry just as the sun truly set, leaving them in the soft light of the evening. As the sunlight faded, they realized that the lake seemed to be glowing with a pale blue light that radiated from its center. George reached into the lake and pulled out a stone from the bottom; it had a strange sort of algae coating it that glimmered with bioluminescent light.

"Never seen anything like this before," he said in wonder, handing it to Dream, who turned the glowing stone over in his hands, inspecting it closely. The three of them were sitting on the beach, looking out over the water.

"Yeah, I gotta admit," Sapnap said from Dream's left, "this place is really beautiful."

George hummed in agreement, but couldn't pass up the opportunity: "as beautiful as this Kacey person you were talking about, or...?"

"Shut up, dude," Sapnap grumbled, as Dream choked on a surprised laugh.

"Who is she, anyways?" George asked curiously, leaning back on his hands.

"A noblewoman from Northumbria I met a few months ago," Sapnap mumbled, his face going red. "I have a chance, I'm telling you. I'm great with women."

"Sure you are," George said, and Sapnap shot him a glance.

"You should have seen him in school, George," Dream said with a little chuckle. "He was a regular heartbreaker."

"Oh, says you," Sapnap said. "Dude, you could have had any girl in Camelot, I swear."

"Whatever," Dream said dismissively as George felt suddenly strange, looking down at his feet.

"I'm not kidding. I don't know why you never tried with that one girl – what's her name, Gwen? She was so into you."

George watched Clay out of the corner of his eye, but the prince barely reacted.

"I don't really get a choice, at the end of the day," he eventually said, causing both George and Sapnap to look towards him in confusion. His shoulders kind of tensed at the attention, and he threw the glowing stone in his hand into the lake with a little splash. "Um. I mean. My dad was telling me that... I'll probably have to marry strategically, y'know? Like, to somebody from another kingdom. Maybe somebody I've never even met."

The words made George's stomach twist, and Sapnap gave a low whistle. "Damn, man. That sucks."

Clay kind of shrugged. "It's not my favorite thing, but. I guess it's what you get when you're in a royal family. You wait until your kingdom really needs an ally, and then you get married. And you kind of... hope... that you like the person you get married to."

"Still, man. That's heavy."

"It's what's best for Camelot," Clay said, the words rolling off his tongue automatically, then hesitated. "Still. I dunno. Maybe one of these days I'll just tell my old man to fuck off." He laughed shortly, but the words came out perhaps a bit truer than he intended.

The three of them sat quietly for a little while longer before Sapnap hoisted himself to his feet, saying he was going to go look after his horse, which had gotten scraped in the ravine incident from earlier. He wandered away, and Dream and George were left sitting on the beach, illuminated by the strange blue glow of the lake.

A strange tension filled the air. They weren't talking, yet neither of them made a move to leave. George snuck a glance at Dream but saw that his gaze was unfocused. He looked lost in his thoughts again.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

Dream furrowed his brow softly and shrugged. "Dunno."

George couldn't help but snort. "You're just sitting there with an empty head?"

Dream shot him a look, but he smiled despite himself. He leaned forward, folding his arms over his knees.

Then he said, "what if this is all a waste?"

George tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Dream looked conflicted. "You said the book said you have to be a king to take Excalibur from the stone. I mean, I know you said royal blood or whatever, but that sort of sounded like a lie," he said, and George winced. "Well, I'm not a king. I won't be for a long time. So... what if I'm not able to do it?"

George took a deep breath. An owl hooted softly from the trees, and the waterfall rushed into the lake. "You'll be able," he said.

"You sound so sure," Dream said, his voice soft.

"Because I am."

"Why? Do you know something I don't?" Dream asked wryly, but then George hesitated for a second too long, and Dream looked at him quickly. "...George?"

George's heartbeat picked up in his chest, and he felt a strange rush in his head. There was something about the moment, the strange tension in the air, the surreal atmosphere of their surroundings, that was pulling him towards honesty. There was something in his head telling him: now is the time.

"I may have left out a few details about what the book says," he said in a rush.

Dream looked alarmed. "What do you mean?"

George picked nervously at his knee. "It doesn't say you have to be a king to take Excalibur," he said. His voice rang strangely in his ears – as though he were listening to someone else speak. "It says you have to be the king. The One True King."

"George. What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's – I'm not sure exactly," George hedged, trying to make it sound as though this were new to him, as well. "But I've seen other texts refer to it. It's an old legend, a really old one, about a king from Camelot who... who's destined to be even greater. A king who will unite Albion into a time of peace."

There was a long, shocked pause, and then Dream's face shifted into panic.

"Why wouldn't you tell me this?" he said, his voice rising. "We need that person to get the sword? Then... then we're screwed!"

George couldn't help the laugh that escaped his throat. "Dream. I think that person is you."

"What?" Dream said incredulously.

The words bubbled out of him as if he had been holding them in, like a breath underwater. "I think that's your destiny. I actually do. I think you probably know it, too – that you have something bigger to do in this life. That you have a purpose."

The words stopped Dream still, and he stared at George in open shock, his mouth hanging slightly open.

George felt light-headed, off-balance. Like he was in a dream instead of reality.

"George," Dream said, shifting position so that he was facing him directly. "Why are you saying this?"

The question caught him by surprise and he stopped, fumbling for words. "It's... what?"

"You've obviously been, like, thinking about this," Dream pressed. His eyes scoured George's face, and George's heart stuttered. "Where did you get all of this? Seriously?"

"It's... I don't know," George said. He felt inspected, and the thought panicked him and sent him straight into deflection mode. "It's just something I... feel."

Dream's forehead furrowed. "You're lying," he said, and his voice sounded confused. He was stating a fact, not making an accusation. "I can tell."

George felt the instinct to protest rise up, but he didn't.

"Where are you getting this?" Dream asked again, quietly.

"Dream..."

George didn't want to lie. But what was he supposed to say? It's written in prophecy, a prophecy that I've learned from other sorcerers?

"I don't think I should tell you," he said instead.

This clearly shocked Dream. "What?" he snapped, venom entering his voice. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I can't tell you," George rephrased, feeling guilty, still, and nervous especially, but finding this dodge more palatable than another lie, and far safer than the truth.

"George, I'm not joking," Dream warned. "You better tell me where you're getting these ideas before I order you to."

This made George laugh slightly, which did nothing to break the tension. "You wish," he said simply, starting to push himself to his feet.

But Dream caught his arm and pulled him back to the ground, tugging George closer so that he was kneeling right in front of him.

"George," he pleaded, and his face was confused, almost betrayed. "You can't just not tell me. We... we tell each other everything."

The sentence was so true and so deeply untrue at the same time that it echoed loudly in George's head, and he just stared at Dream, the enormity of the unspoken thing between them growing so heavy in his chest that he couldn't breathe for a moment.

"Do we, Dream?" George finally said, so quietly yet so loudly into the air between them, where there wasn't very much space at all.

Dream's eyes widened slightly. His gaze dropped to George's mouth, then down to where his hand held George's wrist.

And then they heard Sapnap's steps coming up behind them.

Dream dropped George's hand and looked away as Sapnap said, "hey, guys, are we gonna -,"

He stopped as George rose to his feet, heading back towards their camp without a word. "Uh... did I miss something?"

"It's nothing," George said, his mind buzzing. "I'm going to get some more kindling."

When he returned, Dream was still sitting on the beach, staring at the glowing water.

The sound of his horse's hooves thundering against the earth filled Technoblade's ears as he sped across the countryside. His braided hair flew out behind him, and a dark, heavy cape was pinned around his neck. He had ground to make up, and not much time to do it.

The Darkling Woods rose up quickly in front of him, and he stopped near its border, looking around for some sign of the prince and his companion.

He found it about a half mile away – the white ash of a campfire burned into the heath. The unmistakeable remnants of a camp. He crouched and found three distinct indentations in the soft grass of the hill. Clay must have brought someone else with him. it didn't matter. Techno merely readjusted his mental calculus and returned to his horse.

He worked through the night with the single-minded focus that consumed him during each of his hunts, not stopping to eat or even to rest. Luckily for him, the group was incredibly easy to track, once he found the place where they had entered the Woods. They moved with all the usual grace of a royal party, leaving plenty of footprints and broken branches for Techno to follow, visible even as the sun set and the night approached.

It was his favorite thing about hunting royalty, Techno thought as he pushed on through the forest. So used to staring down at everyone from their towers, they were oblivious to danger, thinking themselves immortal. Thinking themselves eternally at the top of the food chain.

By the time they usually realized they were his prey, the hunt was already over.

Techno didn't recognize authority. It didn't intimidate him. In his mind, he sat over everyone, a sword carefully balanced over every other person's neck. It was up to him when they lived or died. That was true power, not the cheap pageantry of a crown and a castle.

Techno had decided that Clay's time was up. And so it would be.

He grinned at the thought, and plunged deeper into the forest.

George and Clay didn't speak and barely even made eye contact with each other for the rest of the night. But in the morning, they went more or less back to normal, as though they had entered a silent agreement not to talk about their conversation.