POV: Sarah
A Small Town in Southern Wales
- - - - - -
The morning sun peeked through the curtains of a small, cozy flat, casting golden light across a cluttered desk filled with old books, loose sketches, and half-written notes. Birds chirped merrily from the treetops, heralding the beginning of what seemed to be an ordinary day. Sarah groaned, stretching her arms above her head before blinking blearily at the world outside her window.
Kenlston was small, but she had always loved it for that very reason. The cobblestone streets, the modest brick homes lined with flower boxes, and the close-knit community where everyone knew each other, it was her sanctuary.
A place where you could walk from one end to the other in under an hour, and that the town square always had something happening, no matter the day. The bakery down the street always smelled like fresh bread, and the old pub, The Stag's Rest, had been around since before her great-grandfather was born. There was a warmth in familiarity, a sense of security in routine. She loved the charm of it all.
Throwing on a jacket, she made her way outside, the crisp Welsh air refreshing against her skin. The streets bustled with morning activity, shopkeepers setting up displays, the elderly exchanging gossip near the bakery, and children running about before school. She smiled as she passed old Mrs. Turner, who was scolding her dog for trying to steal her breakfast roll.
And yet...
Deep down, she always craved something more. Something big, something mysterious. A change that would shake up the comfortable but repetitive rhythm of her life. But what kind of change could happen in a quiet town like this?
As Sarah walked toward the local grocery store, she caught sight of a small group of people gathered near the fountain in the town square. They were murmuring amongst themselves, their voices hushed but brimming with energy.
"I'm tellin' ya, it's real," an older man insisted. "I saw it this mornin' from my farm. A white city—just appeared outta nowhere!"
"A city?" A younger woman scoffed. "You mean, like a new housing development or somethin'?"
"No! A city! With walls! Glowing white, like something out of a bloody fantasy novel!"
Sarah slowed her pace, curiosity piqued. A glowing city? That was impossible.
She stopped near the group, adjusting the strap of her bag. "What are you lot on about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
A man named Rob, who ran the town's hardware shop, turned to her, wide-eyed. "Camelot, Sarah. Camelot. The bloody thing just appeared overnight a few miles north. We're organizing a group to go see it."
Sarah blinked. "Camelot," she repeated flatly. "As in... King Arthur? Knights of the Round Table? That Camelot?"
"Yes!" Rob exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "That's what I'm saying! It's there! I saw it with my own eyes this morning when I went out to feed the cows!"
Sarah crossed her arms. "Alright, Rob, how much whiskey was in your coffee this morning?"
A few of the others laughed, but Rob shook his head furiously. "I swear on me mother's grave, it's real! I ain't the only one who saw it, either."
Sarah glanced at the others in the group, some nodding, some still looking skeptical. She wanted to dismiss it as a wild rumor, but something gnawed at the back of her mind—what if it was true?
One of the older women, Margaret, placed a hand on Sarah's arm. "Come with us, dear. You've always had that spark for adventure, haven't you? Might as well see it with your own eyes."
Sarah hesitated. She did love a good mystery, and if this turned out to be some weird marketing stunt or some eccentric billionaire's vanity project, well… at least it would be an interesting story.
She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Alright, fine. I'll go. But if this turns out to be some elaborate prank, I'm making Rob buy me drinks for a week."
The group cheered, and with that, they set off toward the rumored location of Camelot.
- - - - - -
The group, about twenty in total, made their way beyond the town's outskirts, their footsteps crunching against the dirt path that led through the hills. Conversation bubbled around Sarah, a mix of theories and disbelief.
"What if it's aliens?" someone suggested.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," A younger woman huffed. "Aliens wouldn't build something out of stone, for heaven's sake."
Sarah remained quiet, her heart pounding harder the closer they got. The air felt different, charged, almost.
The hike took about an hour. The group trudged up a gentle hill, the morning sun growing brighter as they crested the top. And then, suddenly, they saw it.
Camelot.
Sarah stopped dead in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat.
There it was. It was real.
The city sat like a jewel upon the land, its walls towering, pristine white stone that shimmered under the sunlight. The architecture was breathtaking, elegant towers that spiraled into the sky, adorned with blue banners bearing the mark of a golden dragon. Intricate stained-glass windows casting colored light even at a distance. Bridges arched over crystalline waterways, and in the distance, the castle, a magnificent structure of impossible beauty, stood like the very heart of a legend made real.
It was breathtaking. It was impossible.
The group fell into stunned silence.
"Oh, my God," Margaret whispered, her voice trembling with awe.
"No way," another man muttered, rubbing his eyes as if expecting the sight to vanish.
Sarah's breath hitched. It was like stepping into a dream, a vision of a time long past, reborn into reality. Her fingers twitched at her sides, a strange exhilaration coursing through her veins. What is this place?
"...Bloody hell," someone muttered as they took out their phone and took a picture.
Rob let out a shaky laugh. "I told you!"
One of the younger men, Jamie, gawked. "This is insane. How does a city like this just appear?!"
Sarah barely heard them. She was too busy staring, her heart pounding. This was more than just a strange occurrence, this was magic.
For the first time in her life, the ordinary world she had always known had been shattered. This was something impossible, and yet, it stood right before her.
- - - - - -
The group cautiously made their way down the hill, approaching the grand entrance of Camelot. As they got closer, the sheer scale of it all became more apparent. The walls were impossibly smooth, etched with ancient runes that faintly glowed. The gates were massive, guarded by figures clad in silver and white armor, knights unlike anything Sarah had ever seen.
Then, movement.
Atop the walls, armored figures stood sentinel. Their presence was imposing, their silver-white armor catching the sunlight, capes billowing in the wind. As the group approached cautiously, one of the figures stepped forward, a knight clad in a striking white helm adorned with golden accents.
As they reached the foot of the walls at the main gates, one of the knights stepped forward. Their armor gleamed, their helmet adorned with a golden crest. Their voice, calm and authoritative, carried over the stunned crowd.
"Travelers," the knight's voice rang clear, smooth yet commanding. "You stand before the gates of Camelot, the city of the Once and Future King."
The crowd exchanged looks, hesitant and disbelieving.
Mr. Thompson, ever the skeptic, cleared his throat. "And, uh... when exactly did Camelot move to Wales?"
The knight did not hesitate. "Last night."
Mrs. Eddison scoffed under her breath. "Right. Makes perfect sense."
Another knight stepped forward this one somewhat different from the other.
"Welcome to Camelot," the knight said. "By the decree of Her Majesty, Goddess Artoria Pendragon, all who seek sanctuary may enter."
The knight nodded his head toward the group. "You are to follow me as we head to the main plaza where the King will give you speech."
The knight turned toward the massive gates. With a simple gesture, they began to open, an intricate mechanism of stone and magic moving seamlessly as the city beyond was revealed.
A gasp rippled through the group.
Inside was something out of legend, ornate stone pathways lined with glowing lanterns, grand buildings of pristine architecture, bridges arcing over clear canals, and further still, the heart of the city: the castle, its presence undeniable.
Sarah took a shaky step forward, drawn in despite herself. This was real. This was happening.
And she had a feeling, deep in her bones, that her life would never be the same again.