Chapter Text
2002, McDuck Manor
“The Deus Excalibur!” Scrooge exclaimed, holding an ancient manuscript.
“The Deus Ex what now?” Della questioned, slightly sleep deprived.
“It’s an ancient broadsword forged by the first kings of Alba! It moves on its own, not stopping until its target is dead.”
“Why in the world do we need something like this? It’s nothing special now,” Donald pouted, as he was far more sleep deprived than Della.
“Because rumor has it, Spanish archaeologists have found its final resting place.”
“And?”
“They’ve called on me to explore it! I normally refuse these, but the cultural heritage it holds leaves me no choice. Della, chart a course to Algeciras!”
“On it!” Della says, already halfway out the door.
Donald continued to pout at the situation.
“Awh, come on lad. I swear on me heart this’ll be a light and fun expedition. Far as I can tell, there’s no prophecies, bad omens, or curses in line of sight of this thing!” Scrooge reassured his nephew.
Reluctant, but more at ease, Donald follows Scrooge and Della to the Cloudslayer.
Meanwhile, atop a castle on a distant island, a lone witch watches the Spanish archeologists from a crystal sphere, preparing for travel.
“For decades, I’ve perfected my machinations…” Magica monologued to the sphere, “But now with the eclipse coming, old Scrooge would rue the day he crossed Magica de Spell!”
She donned her cape, and disappeared into the dark, headed for Spain.