Arthur lay in bed, his breathing deep and steady as the calm hum of Avalon's energy settled around him. Yet, as he drifted into sleep, that sense of peace quickly gave way to something darker, older—a place he hadn't wanted to revisit.
In his dream, he was back in his childhood room—a cramped, dim space where the walls seemed to close in on him, the paint cracked and faded, barely touched by the weak light from a single window. Every detail felt painfully vivid, down to the fraying carpet under his feet and the chill that crept through the narrow walls. It was the room he'd spent so many nights in, holding his breath, listening.
And there it was—the heavy, uneven thud of footsteps approaching down the hall. The sound grew louder, each step making his pulse race with a familiar, bone-deep dread. His body tensed as though it knew what was coming, that instinctual response was still buried in him, even now. The smell reached him first, acrid and sour, a blend of alcohol and something stale that always made his stomach twist.
Then, as if he were once again that small, frightened child, he heard his father's slurred voice. "Arthur…"
The door creaked open, and his father stumbled into the room, casting an ominous shadow over Arthur's small figure. He wanted to scream, to tell him to leave, to fight back—but his voice was gone, stuck somewhere deep inside, as if trapped by the years of silence he'd endured. He stepped back, his heartbeat thundering in his ears, feeling that terrible familiar helplessness. His father's gaze landed on him, unfocused and narrowed with irritation.
Arthur tried to speak, tried to push out some kind of sound, to call for help, to say anything that would make this different. His fingers curled tightly, nails biting into his palms as he struggled against the silence. He wanted to stand his ground, but his voice refused to come, no matter how he fought.
His father loomed closer, his shadow casting the room in darkness. Arthur felt himself shrinking, his hands trembling as he tried to force out a scream, anything to break free—
The sound finally tore from his throat just as he woke up, bolting upright in his bed, gasping. The phantom scream faded, replaced by the soft, tranquil silence of Avalon's room. His breath came in shallow bursts, his body still taut with tension, his mind struggling to shake off the nightmare's lingering grip.
Arthur pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat pounding beneath his palm. His gaze darted around the room, taking in the warm glow of the walls, the comforting details he'd come to know so well. 'This isn't that place,' he reminded himself, his fingers pressing firmly against the bed's soft fabric, anchoring him. 'That's not my life anymore. I'm here, in Avalon.'
He repeated the thought, letting it sink in with each steadying breath. Gradually, his heartbeat slowed, the lingering shadows of the dream fading with each reminder that he was safe. But the ache lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the life he'd left behind—a life that seemed determined to stay with him in some form or another.
Just as he began to relax, a soft, golden glow appeared beside him. Turning, Arthur saw Avalon's system notification hovering in the air, casting a faint light over the room.
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[System Notification: Level Up]
[Current Level: 1 → 3]
[Your connection to Avalon has strengthened. No core traits gained at this level.]
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Arthur blinked, taking in the message, surprised he'd gained two levels just from a night's rest. He hadn't expected to level up this quickly, especially after only a few days here. As he glanced through the system display, a second notification caught his eye, distinct from the level-up.
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[New Connection Established With Host's Body]
[World Connection: Wizarding World]
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The words held a certain gravity, and Arthur couldn't help but feel a spark of intrigue mixed with confusion. 'Wizarding World connection?' His thoughts immediately went to Harry, their young guest. But a connection notification suggested something deeper, something more personal.
"Avalon…" he murmured, his voice soft, as he searched inwardly for an answer. "What does this connection mean?"
Avalon's voice responded in his mind, steady and warm, a grounding presence after the remnants of his dream. "This connection allows you to begin understanding the magic of the world Harry came from. You are now able to access a basic link to the wizarding world's magic."
Arthur's mind raced, a flicker of both excitement and disbelief building in his chest. "So… I can actually learn magic?" he asked, trying to fully grasp the idea.
"Yes," Avalon replied, its tone filled with quiet encouragement. "You may embark on what they would call a 'wizarding journey.' Though full knowledge of magic cannot be imprinted directly, you have gained the potential to acquire unique talents."
Arthur's curiosity deepened as he listened. The idea of gaining magical talents, of expanding Avalon's sanctuary with new powers, held an undeniable appeal. But Avalon's voice softened, turning almost instructive.
"However," Avalon continued, "there are certain limitations. Only one talent may be copied per guest, and not all guests' talents can be copied; only special people within their world can be copied. The guest's level of satisfaction in Avalon will also determine whether you can copy their talent."
Arthur nodded, taking it all in. This was more than just a matter of welcoming guests—it was about ensuring their comfort and providing them with an experience that left them content and fulfilled. The more they felt at home here, the more it would strengthen Avalon and himself in turn. It was a fascinating exchange, one that tied his growth directly to the quality of the sanctuary he provided.
The thought sent a wave of pride through him. His efforts with each guest mattered, and this connection to the wizarding world wasn't merely a gift; it was a responsibility, one he wanted to honor.
As he processed the information, another question tugged at his mind, one that had been lingering since he'd seen the level-up notification.
"Why did leveling up happen in my sleep?" he asked, his voice barely more than a murmur, his curiosity piqued.
Avalon's response was patient and calm. "Your experience accumulates through your actions and interactions while awake. But, for you, the process of leveling is safest during rest. Sleep integrates your experiences more smoothly, allowing you to grow without the risk of disruption or harm."
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Arthur let out a thoughtful breath, absorbing Avalon's answer. "So… sleep allows for a kind of safe transition?"
"Yes," Avalon confirmed. "In rest, your mind and body are at peace, and growth can occur without overwhelming your senses. It is a form of protection, to ensure each level brings stability rather than disorientation."
Arthur nodded, a sense of gratitude welling up within him. Avalon's system was not merely about gaining power or progressing—it was about providing him with a foundation, one that supported steady, purposeful growth. It wasn't just guiding him; it was watching over him.
His gaze returned to the display, studying his current level and the new connection. The skills he'd developed had shifted subtly, a deeper alignment to his role here, and though his core traits hadn't changed, he felt a distinct clarity settling in. This journey wasn't just about growth for him alone; it was a shared journey, one that bound him to Avalon's sanctuary and the guests he welcomed.
A small smile tugged at his lips. His level had increased, yes, but more importantly, Avalon's trust in him had deepened, extending its reach to embrace new worlds and possibilities.
And with that thought, Arthur felt truly ready to greet the day, grounded by the knowledge that with every step forward, he was building something extraordinary—both within Avalon's walls and within himself.
Arthur took a steadying breath, feeling the lingering warmth of Avalon's presence still calming him as he left his quarters. His gaze drifted toward the lobby, which looked as though it had been subtly refreshed overnight. While the overall layout remained the same, he noticed faint details that hadn't been there before hairline cracks filled, polished surfaces that gleamed a bit brighter, and a sense of refined completeness in the space. Avalon had, in its own way, patched itself up.
As he made his way through the lobby, his thoughts turned to breakfast. He'd half expected Avalon to provide something simple, maybe a modest spread in a tucked-away cafeteria. But as he rounded the corner, he stopped short, his eyes widening at the transformation before him.
Once there was a basic cafeteria had become something more—a quaint, one-star dining area, complete with wooden tables and comfortable seating arranged in a layout that invited guests to linger. Each table had a small candle in the center, adding a touch of warmth and welcome, while along one side, a fully equipped kitchen gleamed with polished countertops and neatly organized utensils.
'Avalon... leveling up really has its perks, huh?' he thought, taking in the unexpected elegance of the space.
As he walked further in, Arthur noticed that the kitchen wasn't just well-stocked with familiar essentials like flour, salt, and basic spices. Instead, it was a veritable treasure trove of fresh ingredients: baskets of vegetables and fruits, bundles of herbs, and a wide selection of protein sources, from cuts of meat and fresh eggs to whole fish on ice. Yet, as he examined the selection more closely, some items stood out, things he hadn't encountered in his previous life—richly colored fruits with strange textures, herbs that shimmered with an odd iridescence, and cuts of meat that seemed to pulse faintly with a warmth he couldn't quite explain.
Curious, he picked up a dark, leafy vegetable that had a faint glow along its edges, feeling its unusual weight in his hand. "Avalon," he began, feeling both intrigued and slightly puzzled, "these… these aren't from any garden I know. What exactly am I looking at?"
Avalon's voice resonated in his mind, calm and instructional. "As Avalon connects to new worlds, the kitchen's inventory adapts. Each world contributes its unique raw materials and ingredients, a gift of sorts for your hospitality. This particular selection comes from the wizarding world—a world rich in magical essence. However, the quality of the ingredients is limited by each world's focus."
Arthur set the vegetable down, absorbing Avalon's words. "Focus? Like, each world has a specific energy or purpose?"
"Yes," Avalon replied smoothly, a faint pride in its tone. "For example, the wizarding world's focus is on magical essence, which enhances anything containing magic here within Avalon. Ingredients with inherent magical properties will resonate stronger within our walls. However, a world dedicated to culinary mastery, such as one with its essence focused on food—like 'Food Wars!: Shokugeki no Soma'—would bring with it higher quality and even unique dishes and ingredients that reflect its focus."
Arthur's eyes lit up with understanding, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "So Avalon's kitchen is more than just a place to cook. It's… adaptable, reflecting the worlds it's connected to."
"Precisely," Avalon affirmed. "As Avalon's connections grow, so will your resources. Each world adds a layer to the culinary potential here, allowing you to create meals that suit the tastes and needs of every guest."
Arthur let out a soft chuckle, glancing over the selection before him. The idea of cooking with these ingredients, of combining familiar and unknown, felt both challenging and exciting. And with this wealth of raw materials, he realized he could offer guests not only a place to rest but a taste of their own world, a reminder of home even within Avalon's walls.
He moved further into the kitchen, selecting a few ingredients for Harry's breakfast: eggs, thick slices of bread, and a handful of herbs—both familiar and new. Avalon's additions had created a space where he could experiment, learn, and make each meal feel personal, tailored to each guest.
Arthur worked quietly in Avalon's kitchen, whisking eggs with a sprinkle of salt–he did the salt bae to muse himself, a few pinches of an iridescent herb Avalon had assured him would add a warm sweetness to the dish. He sliced bread and placed it on a griddle with a generous pat of butter, watching as the edges turned golden and the scent of toasted bread filled the air, mingling with the faint, exotic notes from the magical herbs.
As he arranged the eggs and toast on a tray, he poured a steaming cup of tea to complete the meal. The simplicity of the breakfast was intentional—a balance of flavors, each ingredient chosen with Harry's comfort in mind.
Carrying the tray through the quiet hall, Arthur approached Harry's door and gently placed the tray on the floor in front of it. A small part of him felt reluctant to intrude upon Harry's quiet morning, especially after the previous day's events, so he opted for a subtle gesture to ensure Harry could eat in privacy.
Following Avalon's suggestion, Arthur raised his knuckles and gave a single, light knock on the door. As soon as his fist touched the wood, he saw the tray shimmer faintly, then vanish, transporting itself inside Harry's room in a smooth, seamless flash.
Satisfied, Arthur gave a small nod and turned back down the hall, his footsteps soft against the polished floor. He felt a sense of purpose with each step, a feeling of fulfillment in even this small task. Yet as he reached the end of the hall, a thought struck him—he didn't feel hungry, despite the busy morning.
He paused, resting a hand against the lobby's wall, thinking back to the sensations he'd felt earlier in the kitchen. He had been focused, and energized, but not once had he felt the typical signs of hunger, even though he hadn't eaten since the day before. Puzzled, he turned his thoughts to Avalon, reaching out for an answer.
"Avalon… am I just not getting hungry?" he asked, a note of curiosity in his voice.
Avalon's voice responded warmly, an almost amused tone in its words. "You're correct, Arthur. My energy sustains your physical body. Your need for food has diminished because the sanctuary's essence provides all the nourishment you require to remain fresh and capable. Though you still can embark on the culinary journey for the sake of tasting delicious food"
Arthur considered this, feeling a strange, almost ethereal lightness settle over him. The lack of hunger, the sense of vitality—it was as though Avalon's energy suffused his every cell, providing everything he needed to stay physically well. Still, he felt the natural mental fatigue from his morning activities, a reminder that rest would remain essential.
"So, Avalon keeps my body fresh… but my mind still needs rest?" he confirmed, feeling both curious and appreciative.
"Yes," Avalon replied. "While your body no longer requires sustenance, mental energy is still yours to manage. I could sustain your body, but your mind's resilience and vitality remain yours to cultivate."
Arthur nodded, feeling a deep appreciation for Avalon's subtle magic. The sanctuary truly was an extension of its manager, offering physical support but leaving room for personal growth and strength. It allowed him to focus on his role without distraction or need, a place that ensured he had everything necessary to serve and guide his guests.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Arthur made his way back to the lobby, ready for whatever the day held. Avalon's energy flowed through him, grounding him and reminding him that, here in this sanctuary, he was safe, sustained, and empowered to make a difference—one guest, and one quiet gesture, at a time.