Fate-in time

43

Honestly speaking, she didn't know what to do, yet even still, her heart was set. Her anxiety had carried her forward, sword moving to parry against Shirou's own and ending up in a deadlock.
"

Please," she spoke in a small pleading voice, visibly effecting Shirou in a way no sword or weapon ever could.
She understood that it was probably better to intervene after Shirou had dealt Fafnir the finishing blow, but there was no guarantee that the Ashton Slate would not immediately activate upon the Dragon's defeat. By then it would be too late, and the chance of Shirou disappearing from her life may just come to pass.
No.
No.
She didn't want that outcome. Just the fact that a chance existed that he would be taken away from her was something she couldn't accept. He was, to her, a person that was irreplaceable. Just imagining a life without him left her feeling so hollow that it hurt right in the center of her chest. A feeling so constrained that her complexion was paling and she was developing shortness of breath.
He was her Knight.
The only one who had stayed true to her long before she had ever drawn Caliburn from the stone.
Sir Ector had always taught her to be upright and understanding, and in turn, Kay had advised her to be true to her feelings. Merlin guided her in the way of the sword and Kingly etiquette.
But Shirou, he was her support.
She tried to blink away the tears forming in her eyes, but it was useless. They simply continued to trickle passed her reddened cheeks, two streams flowing from watery teal coloured orbs piercing in their candor.
Shirou had always insisted that she not hide her emotions, well fine. She wouldn't anymore, all she wanted was for him to listen to her, to not leave her even if it was just a chance. It was selfish of her, yet it was what she truly felt, her genuine emotions laid bare. She spoke not as a King, nor as Knight, but as Arturia Pendragon, the girl hiding beneath her title and duty.
"Please," she tried again, voice choked. "Merlin must know of another way." She raised her arm and braced it against her sword, bangs shadowing her face as she bowed her head lowly. "Whatever this Counter Force is, we can face it together like a pair. A Sword and a Sheath."
She stared at him, and he back, yet as the seconds passed, she shuddered when she watched him slowly shake his head.
"I'm sorry Arturia, but the Counter Force isn't something so easy to deal with."
She stiffened. It was that tone of voice again. The one he always used when he was considering her safety over his own. Did he not understand, or did he simply choose not to?
"Enough!" She yelled heatedly while shaking her head. "You may not be saying it directly but you're trying to protect me again for my benefit! No. NO! You don't understand!" She sobbed out, the stubbornness he had known Saber for appearing in her disposition. "Even if you keep me safe, even if I one day become a King worthy of respect, do you think I'd be happy with the chance of you being gone!?"
"I won't."
"I can't."
She parried with her sword, forcing him back, her lips quivering as she swallowed.
"I-If I mean so much to you, has it ever crossed your mind how much you mean to me?!"
She'd never said it aloud before, never even considered it, yet with the situation as it was, she let it all out. She'd never thought herself to be very strong of a person and it was why she protected herself behind an emotionless mask. However, when that mask was gone, the simple girl within her content with a life alongside her loved ones in Bristol came to the surface.
Shirou was unable to respond to her words, her declaration; the sword in his hands gradually lowering as he couldn't bring himself to fight her.
Seeing this scene, Fafnir was momentarily caught off guard within Agatha's restraints. It had always been sceptical of the crow's previous words, but now it understood.
Secure the girl's help, and the Ashton will weaken.
A low chuckle escaped Fafnir's mouth, yet it did nothing to change the situation. Arturia still stood opposed to Shirou, blade trembling in her hands; she was just as unwilling to fight him as he was her.
"Hurry, Ashton!" Agatha panted from the air, the shadows binding Fafnir writhing and twisting, the bonds thinning. Time was ticking away and Agatha didn't know how much longer her reserves would last.
Shirou finally took action.
He stepped forward, one step at a time, the sword at his side never once lifting up. Never once seeking to harm her.
"Stop!" She warned him as he approached, her stance full of holes in her anxiety.
He didn't listen and continued walking, only his destination wasn't Fafnir, but her.
He stood in front of her sword, the tenderness in his expression unable to be hidden. Her heart began to beat audibly in her chest, her eyes dilating as Shirou stepped forward once more; the tip of Caliburn's edge pressed to his neck and lightly cutting in. The sight of his blood flowing down her sword startled her so much that Caliburn clattered to the ground.
"T-That's not fair," she swallowed bitterly.
"That's because I'm selfish," Shirou admitted, wrapping his arms around her and cradling the back of her head with his hands. He had already seen her disappear from his life once. He didn't want to lose her again. Just as she didn't want him to risk himself, he didn't want her to risk herself against the Counter Force either. The feeling was mutual.
"I won't stop you from stopping me, but what you're forgetting is just why I want to protect you and put you above all else," he stared at her in the eyes, his face drawing close and into a kiss. She quivered softly. "I love you, Arturia Pendragon, will you not put your trust in me one last time?"
He pressed her forehead against hers, feeling her warmth and transmitting his own. "Now and forever, an oath to the stars."
Goosebumps travelled down her skin, her mouth growing dry, opening and closing without saying anything. And in that moment, he let go of her, walking past her and leaving himself open to attack.
She stared at her own hands, then back at him. She could block him, cling to him, yet she knew that he wouldn't offer any form of retaliation. That was how much he cared about her, and she didn't know what to do as a result. It was an unconditional love that made it that much harder for her to cope. She didn't want to potentially lose it. To lose him and the connection they had.
It was getting uncomfortable to swallow, a lump forming in her throat that wouldn't go away.
Her mind insisted that she stop him, yet her heart trusted him more. The belief in the boy who had done so much for her.
Gently, she picked Caliburn up from the ground and watched Shirou's back grow smaller and smaller, the panic in Fafnir's eyes growing more pronounced.
"Whelp, what are you doing!" Fafnir thrashed under Agatha's hold, its large reptilian body quaking the earth and shaking the cavern.
Agatha held on and fueled more energy into her shadows, beads of sweat trailing down her face while the complexion of her skin shifted into a pale pallor.
In the midst of everything, Shirou once again stood before Fafnir, Ascalon and Balmung pointed in the area of Fafnir's heart.
"Enough Ashton! Do you not understand what killing me means!?" Fafnir's struggles intensified, its gaze shifting frantically to Arturia when it realized its words were having no effect on Shirou. "WHELP Hurry and DO something!"
A visible tremor travelled through Arturia, yet she forcibly bit down on her lips and ignored Fafnir's call to action.
Standing before Fafnir and watching the Dragon so utterly restrained by Agatha, Shirou grew solemn while the Ashton Slate in his possession began to shine with a dull light.
"It's over," he said, plunging both Dragon slaying swords directly into Fafnir's heart. With the Dragon Slaying properties both swords held, the blades bypassed the formidable defences of thick scales and enhanced magical armour to tear a hole straight into the heart.
Blood spurted out in waves, the warm life-fluid dousing him in his entirety like Siegfried before him. The blood seeped into his skin similar to a divine tonic or elixir, exemplifying the legend of a Dragon Slayer, they who were bathed in the blood of Dragons. The durability of his body was no longer that of a human's, ordinary blades and weapons no longer able to pierce him.
It was remarkable.
Yet before he could even assess the new condition of his own body, Fafnir's corpse began fading into mots of black light, leaving behind the final piece of the Ashton Sleight which immediately combined with the rest.
Magical power the likes of which he had not once felt before exploded outwards in a pillar that destroyed the entire cavern to reveal the sky outside. The planes of reality distorted, cracks forming in the air and revealing another world seen through the gaps. Where trees grew tall, and the lands were ever encompassing, knowing no bounds, the Reverse Side of the World.
Tendrils of flowing amalgamations of red magical energy formed a complex series of magic circles and sigils that took root as a resplendent pillar binding the fabrics together. A hole to another dimension.
An Anchor.
Like the spear that shines at the World's End, Rhongomyniad, the magical fluctuations originating from the Ashton Slate rendered the planer laws of reality null, opening a passage beyond human means.
And from within him, he felt the pull of his magical reserves, a resonance born from his soul that sought to drag him forward. He hastily dug the swords in his hands into the dirt, securing them to the ground to use as hand-holds.
It was like Arturia had feared. The moment Fafnir died, the Ashton Slate activated in full.
His veins bulged out from beneath his skin, his face flushing red from the exertion, yet not once did he give up. He could feel it even from where he stood, the anxiety in Arturia's gaze. She had put her trust in him once more, and that alone heightened both his strength and mental fortitude.
"Agatha!" He called out. "What now?!"
He clearly remembered the way Agatha had informed him that it wasn't certain that he would get trapped in the Reverse Side. If there was a method, then it was better for him to try than do nothing.
Arturia's gaze quickly fell onto Agatha, her expression desperate.
Agatha grew solemn, falling down from the sky and roughly landing on her feet. Due to her efforts of binding Fafnir for so long, she had used up a large majority of her energy. Even if she was an Elemental, Dragons were at the pinnacle of Phantasmal Species, subduing one was far from easy.
She took in a heavy breath, wiping the sweat off from her brow.
"There are two choices now that the Slate is activated," she began, peering up at the tear between dimensions. "Entering the Artificial Anchor and allowing it to close naturally and thereby trapping you inside, or do as Lord Ashton had done and take control of the Anchor itself."
Her countenance grew grim.
"The first option is fairly simple, but the odds are against you should you attempt the alternative." Exhausted as she was, Agatha still raised her arms and helped ease the suction force over him. "Lord Ashton was a full-fledged Fire Elemental, but you, you seem primarily human. Unless you can contain the sheer power of a World Anchor, you're unlikely to survive."
His lips thinned before he stared at Arturia, the only person who mattered the most to him, and understood that there was no other option. Call him stubborn, but he would never give up on her.
"Even still," he said. "I'll take the chance. Will you help me Agatha?"
Agatha grinned, the paleness of her face unable to mask the beauty of her smile. She flourished her hands outwards.
"HAhahha! Very well!" A power thrummed from around Agatha, one that she knew she didn't have the capability to currently wield yet did so anyway. "Lord Ashton wasn't as brash as you, but perhaps that's why you chose to free the bindings of this Matron of Shadows. Its time to show you that it wasn't the wrong choice."
Blood began to trail down from Agatha's mouth as she utilized parts of her life force without hesitation, her physical body itself flickering.
"Agatha," Shirou spoke out in concern.
She shook her head, concentration heightening.
In many ways she was like the Rin Shirou knew. Despite her current state, she didn't want to be pitied, it would only sully her determination and make it seem as if her actions were worth less than they were. She had her pride and there was no need to question it. He could understand that much from the brief interactions they've had, therefore he no longer attempted to dissuade her.
Instead, all that escaped his mouth was a simple acknowledgment.
"Thank you."
His voice steadily entered Agatha's ears, a minute tremble passing through her. After many years of isolation and fighting alone, it was the first time she'd ever been thanked for her efforts. She didn't know what to feel, but she knew that she wanted to reciprocate the sentiment even if it would only be a temporary increase in power.
"Activate the Seals!" she called out.
From Shirou's arms, the red seals that marked their contract together began to shine brilliantly before fading out one by one; the power of each seal flowing into Agatha and morphing her into a towering shadow that encompassed the Ashton Slate in its entirety.
This was the chance Agatha had provided him.
The suctions force pulling on him reduced drastically, allowing him to study the Ashton Slate before him more thoroughly as he placed his hand on it.
Agatha wasn't specific regarding how exactly he was to take ownership of the Slate, but in a way, perhaps he already knew. The Anchors that existed upon the Earth prevented the return of Phantasmal Species by linking one plane of an existing reality with another. Elementals by their nature possessed what was known as a Marble Phantasm which allowed them to bend the laws of the Earth to their will, creating their own realities from existing concepts.
What had previously allowed Lord Ashton possession of the Slate was a link to the world of fire created from his Marble Phantasm. And if it was a World the Slate needed to tie itself down to, then it wasn't something he was lacking.
"I am the bone of my sword."
Power to bend the realities of the world erupted from around him, drawing the surprise of Agatha who had never seen him reveal this aspect of himself before.
"M-Marble Phantasm?"
The words escaped her mouth as she felt the fluctuations in the air, but she quickly shook her head when she realized that it wasn't the laws of the world bending to Shirou's will. Rather, the feeling was entirely different. She and Vivian could feel it far more than others due to their nature as Elementals, but without a doubt, it was the feeling of a world imposing on another.
Curious as Agatha was, she was too preoccupied with the sheer might of the Ashton Slate to pay Shirou anymore mind.
"Steel is my body and fire is my blood."
The clashing of world energies intensified, a thrumming noise resounding along with the crackling of flame reminiscent to the realm of Fire that Lord Ashton was known for. It almost felt to Agatha that it wasn't Shirou standing behind her, but her previous partner. An aspect of flame used to heat the forge of an unlimited arsenal.
"I have created over a thousand blades."
He raised his hands up, placing the slate on his chest where it took root.
"Unaware of loss nor aware of gain."
His eyes narrowed, his reserves of magical energy dipping sharply as the Slate began linking into him and the manifestation of his soul. Yet even still, despite the damage he sustained on his body, he continued on.
"Withstood pain to create weapons, waiting for one's arrival."
The very air around him began to pulse, Arturia and Agatha forced to step back. Agatha cursed as a result, but she could no longer remain near the area, her form shrinking and reverting back to its human state. She was an Elemental, a being that drew strength from nature. Therefore, with the very principles of the world around her being imposed by another, she could no longer maintain control on her abilities in her weakened state.
As a result, Shirou alone now bore the full weight and aura of the Ashton Slate, an Anchor of the Reverse Side.
Veins bulged from his skin, blood vessels rupturing into patches of red that stained his clothing. It was enough to make Arturia move towards him in worry.
"Don't," he called out to her, voice barely above a whisper.
He only had a few more lines left, he could feel it already, a link forming with the Slate. His back straightened, his determination keeping him on his feet.
"I have no regrets. This is the only path."
His words came out feebly, but within them carried a will that was absolute.
"So as I pray,"
Bronze coloured eyes flashed with a lustrous azure.
"Unlimited Blade Works."
For a fraction of a second, Agatha felt as if she had seen a dimension far different from her own. The skies were of a thick iron rust, the half-barren ground mottled with the metallic luster of legendary steel. Some broken, some average, and others, she could not believe were in front of her in such large quantities. It wasn't a world of life or destitution, it was one of a single-minded practicality.
Monolithic gears hung in the air, encroaching upon the world with heavy looming shadows of doubt and wariness that filled her mind with images of battlegrounds and death she had not once seen before. Men dying in droves, rivers of blood staining entire battlefields, the images continued to flash in her mind, ending upon the scene of a tired man's hunched back overlooking everything from upon an empty hill.
Regrets, misgivings, self-loathing, the feelings assailed her, offset by the only ray of light she felt within the world that her eyes were drawn to.
A simple pasture of green where a Sword and Sheath lay propped against each other for support.
There was a radiance to it, a sacred holiness found in simplicity.
A promise that was made.
An Oath that transcended time, beating back the clouds of doubt and hesitation.
It was a world that was barren, practical, and steadily losing the meaning found within its fading ideals, yet as a whole, it was Hope. That no matter how difficult the journey, a light would be waiting.
When next Agatha blinked, everything was gone, pulled back in.
The scenery around her returned to the destroyed cavern, making it appear as if what she had just seen was an illusion. She swallowed, glancing down at Arturia and speculating if she'd seen the same thing, but she was being too optimistic. It was only because of her senses as an Elemental that allowed her a glimpse to a world different from her own.
Regardless, the Ashton Slate itself vanished, absorbed into an unlimited Armoury. All that was left behind was the unstable amalgamation of power that temporarily maintained the hole into the Reverse Side.
"Shirou?" Arturia called out tentatively.
She had been quiet in fear of being a distraction, but with the situation seemingly solved, she could no longer stop herself. Inwardly, she was greatly relieved that Shirou wasn't taken away from her. However, the fact that Shirou was standing directly across from an unsteady build up of magical power was making her apprehensive. Even from where she stood, she felt stifled.
How could she not? The energy before Shirou had single-handedly punctured a hole through the layers of the world. She didn't need to think to understand what would happen if anyone came in contact with it.
"Shirou?" She called out again, brows furrowing together in concern.
He hadn't responded to her.
He didn't even move.
Her concerns mounting, she felt an irrational fear well up from within her similar to a vice squeezing the breath from her chest. Shirou had always answered her when she called, and if he didn't, he would have gestured to convey that he had heard her.
He did neither.
Fraught with worry, she ran forward in a heart beat, the sound of her soles striking the ground echoing from the hard rock as her lips pursed together. He was just a short way in front of her, and yet the closer she got, the more she realized that Shirou just simply didn't react. It didn't matter how loud her steps became or how her armour clanked with each stride, nothing fazed him as if he were…
When the thought reached her mind, she very nearly lost the strength in her legs, but her resolve prompted her to continue on.
Fifteen meters.
Then ten.
All of a sudden, it was as if an invisible wall was preventing her from approaching any further, a hand placing itself gently on her shoulder.
"Calm your mind child," Agatha spoke weakly. "The Ashton isn't in mortal danger, rather he has succeeded. Look." Agatha pointed forward at the swirling mass of energy. "All that's left is for the Ashton to assimilate the residual energy and close the gap between dimensions."
Agatha's words aside, Arturia herself wasn't completely convinced nor fully assured.
"B-But, he didn't respond," she stuttered out, gaze lowered and hand rubbing at her arm. "It's not like him even if he's concentrating."
Agatha stared down at Arturia in bewilderment. She'd seen Arturia's character and disposition as she observed Shirou from her world of shadows and knew that Arturia shouldn't be this unreasonable. Shirou had just conjured what was equivalent to another world to contain the overwhelming energies of a World Anchor. If Shirou still had enough energy to respond to Arturia's calls after that, then he wasn't human.
Regardless, Agatha's expression soon softened. It wasn't difficult for her to understand Arturia's irrationality because Love can make even the smartest of individuals devolve. In that regard, perhaps she and Lord Ashton were no different no matter how much the thought irked her. Foolish until the end.
Her body began fading away into mots of golden light, startling Arturia.
"You, what's happening?" She asked.
Agatha smiled ruefully while glancing at her fading arms.
"I used too much strength and can no longer maintain a physical form." She stared at Shirou, thinking back to her days of isolation in the dark and then the warmth she had felt when she had fought by Shirou's side. "Yet it was worth it."
In the midst of fading, she tousled Arturia's hair in an admonishing gesture. "Keep him safe, his consciousness won't return until he finishes assimilating and is allowed time to recover. Therefore, you shouldn't approach him lightly until the process completes."
Arturia nodded calmly, but her eyes gave her true thoughts away, her gaze steadfast on Shirou's figure.
This brat. Agatha could only smile wryly before closing her eyes, her body vanishing into the air but not before playing one last trick. She willed the spiritual aspect of herself not to return completely to the shadows, but to store itself within Shirou's body to recover there. In a sense, it was her own way of keeping this danger-prone Ashton safe.
It's all up to you now Ashton, only time will tell whether you prove Vivian wrong, but I'll be waiting.
Agatha's presence vanished completely, and only Arturia remained.
She stood rooted where she was, internally conflicted. The emotional part of her wanted to ignore Agatha's words and directly reach out for Shirou, but the rational part of her mind prevented her from doing so. The clashing of both sides caused her expression to distort in indecision and eventually, she had no choice but to turn her attention away lest she act out.
Keep calm, she continued to persuade herself. Self control had always been one of the first lessons Sir Ector had taught her. Not only would it aid her in battle, but it would aid her in decision making throughout her life as well. Clearly, now was the time to use it.
She busied herself by pacing, her legs carrying her back and forth as the dim glow of the sun overhead gradually shifted into the pale white off the moon. The stars too appeared one by one, glittering eternally like resplendent jewels in a sea of faded black.
It had been just over three hours and still she could hardly see any progress regarding the energies in front of Shirou. The volume itself had only shrunk by around a tenth of the initial size, making it evident that it would take a full day longer. However, the change was enough.
The tension left her, the anxiety she was feeling no longer clouding her judgment as she observed the truth in Agatha's words.
Shirou had done it.
He had solved the issue regarding the Ashton Family and the Phantasmal Species. All that was left was to deal with the Saxon invasion and the founding of the Kingdom.
Thoughts brightening, her mood cleared enough to allow her to think back to the course of events that occurred during the confrontation with Fafnir. Specifically, the lingering softness that she could feel on her lips, flushing her cheeks red.
She blanked, her mind coming to a grueling halt as embarrassment assailed her.
Was she that easy?
It only took a single kiss to subdue her?
Her lips quivered, but she couldn't stop the incessant beating of her heart nor her light-headedness. It was only natural though.
Raised as a boy all her life, it was only the second time she had ever kissed a man, the first when Shirou declared his love for her, and the second when he reaffirmed it in her stubbornness. The time period in-between was perhaps the most awkward; she not knowing how to reciprocate her feelings and Shirou content to let her sort things out. With the final conclusion of the day's events though, she finally affirmed what it was that she had needed to understand.
Merlin had sent her out because of her inexperience and hesitation, and the root of it all was Shirou and the scene of Caliburn reacting to him in the past. Was she truly the worthy King or was she simply the next best choice? The answer to that question didn't matter anymore. She Loved him, and he would stay by her side, the both of them ruling together.
That was the answer she had arrived to during her journey. He supporting her, and she supporting him.
It became her dream.
To free her people from the hands of invaders and perhaps start a family of her own as the Ruler of the land. A boy or a girl, it didn't matter. She'd name her child Mordred and pass down her skills, her knowledge, her everything to ensure the child's future and upbringing. For the child would be the symbol of her Love.
She could already picture it; a beautiful utopia forming in her mind filled with swaying reeds and gentle winds as her children frolicked barefoot amongst the grass. Childish laughter and the scent of an autumn breeze lingering in the air along with the distant cries of 'mommy' and 'daddy.'
Her mouth gradually curved upwards until she was smiling lightly under the gaze of the moon, her features soft and alluring.
Yet all dreams end when the dreamer awakens.
A noise piercing in the silence echoed out, the crashing of a meteor up above in the sky deafening as it struck the earth.
She blinked rapidly, arms raised to shield her from the upturned gravel, rock, and dust of the impact. By the time everything settled, Caliburn was already drawn in her hands and pointed forward.
Her expression darkened in disbelief.
Efret?
The bird that she had known since she her childhood lay prone within a crater in front of her. Its once ethereal body covered in swaths of scars and wounds that exposed the bone beneath. Parts of its feathers were missing, revealing patches of flaring skin. Compared to the majestic figure she knew in her mind, it was too much of a far cry from its present condition.
She moved forward to help, but she quickly realized that something was wrong.
The ground began to move around her, shifting from solid to liquid and immediately causing her to sink without much resistance. She flailed, using her hands in an attempt to gain leverage but failing to do so. Instead, mud like tendrils of earth sprouted from around her, encasing her arms before hardening and suspending her up into the air. Her previously submerged legs were then encased in a similar manner. As the tendrils had dragged her up, more had come and thoroughly bound her.
Caliburn clattered to the ground, forced out of her grip as the mud and earth seeped through the openings of her gauntlets and unfurled her fingers one by one. The feeling itself was like wet sand pressing against her skin, uncomfortable and unnerving.
She couldn't comprehend it. One moment everything was normal, and in the next, she had been caught unaware.
Magic.
It had to be.
She strained against her restraints, but no matter what she did, the mud encasing her simply slackened before hardening again. It completely nullified her strength, the exertion causing a sheen of sweat to form on her brow.
"Insufferable bird," a vexed voice sounded near her, prompting her to turn her face.
The woman she saw in front of her was in a haggard state. Her clothes were almost entirely singed and numerous blackened burns marred her figure. It was a sorry state no doubt caused by Efret, but from the moment Arturia saw the woman, a chill travelled down her back.
"Morgan," she spoke softly.
Morgan looked up at her, mouth curving up into a sneer.
"Hello little sister," she said candidly, masking her malicious intentions. "Forgive my appearance as the bird over there put up more of a challenge than I was expecting."
She stared hard at Arturia, her jealously unable to be hidden. It was always Arturia who got everything: The throne, loyalty, comrades, whereas she always got nothing. Just thinking about it infuriated her. After all, she viewed all that Arturia had as hers by right. It was her kingdom to rule, her people and subjects to oversee, and yet it was all stolen. Words couldn't describe how devastated she was.
As soon as she arrived, all the animosity she had felt for Efret shifted onto Arturia, ignoring Efret entirely.
"What do you want? And how did you find me," Arturia asked warily, her tone terse.
Morgan merely scoffed in response, moving to stand directly in front of Arturia, staring her up and down with crossed arms. It made Arturia uncomfortable and she once again struggled against her bindings in vain.
"What I want? You're fooling yourself if you don't know by now?" Morgan said dismissively. "As for how I found you, well, whose to say that you ever escaped my notice?"
Her words caused Arturia to pause and think.
From the very beginning since she'd last met with Morgan, she'd been too busy alongside Shirou to pay much attention to her surroundings. It was only when she considered this fact that she realized the anomaly present in every situation she had recently been involved in.
"The Crows," she spoke softly, recalling the black feathered birds watching from a distance in every instance she could remember. She'd never even considered them before due to all the fighting. Crows were scavengers and were common in war and conflict, making them perfect as scouts.
"Indeed," Morgan nodded, uncrossing her arms. "Since the first time I saw you at the gathering of Magi I've always been watching, waiting for an opportunity." Her attention suddenly shifted to Shirou. "And that opportunity has come."
Arturia's eyes dilated, her breathing quickening as a pit formed in her stomach. "W-Wait, stop! He has nothing to do with this?!"
Morgan chuckled darkly.
At first, she had believed that Shirou was the prominent heir of a renowned family of magi, but in reality, he was far worse. He not only possessed the means to command Phantasmal Species, but he could recreate Noble Phantasms seemingly on a whim as well. The sheer versatility and destructive capability found within Shirou was too much too ignore let alone underestimate. Hell, if she wasn't certain that Shirou was incapable of resisting her at the moment, she wouldn't have exposed herself so readily. With her current strength, dealing with him openly was simply too risky.
If she couldn't have him on her side though, then it was impossible to allow him to remain near her little sister. Could Arturia not comprehend this simple logic? Or perhaps she simply chose not to?
It didn't matter.
"Nothing to do with this?" Morgan mouthed, stepping forward; each stride bringing her closer and mounting Arturia's anxiety such that she was beginning to quiver. "It's because of him I'm even here. His presence alone ruins many of the plans I've set in motion in the past." She stared venomously at Shirou. "I gave him a choice once before, he chose wrong."
Arturia's breathing hastened, sweat dripping down from her brow as she struggled to get free. The restraints around her arms and legs bound her too tightly such that it was impossible to utilize her physical might.
Mana Burst!
The magic core within her erupted, releasing dense fluctuations of magical and draconic power that boosted her forward. The sudden explosion of energy shattered her bindings, freeing her as she dove for Caliburn.
"Do you really think it would be that easy," Morgan spoke offhandedly, weaving magic within her fingers and actualizing her magecraft. From the dirt, an entire column of mud surrounded Arturia and hardened around her once again. "This entire area is suffused with Fafnir's energy lingering within the rock and gravel. Did you truly believe that I wouldn't account for your strength?"
A gasp escaped Arturia's mouth as a slab of rock smashed into her stomach, the urge to gag welling up from within her as her vision grew misty. She swallowed, panting. "I-I'm the one you're after, leave him alone."
Morgan ignored her, turning her attention back to Shirou and proceeding on.
"Stop!"
"I said STOOOP!"
Blood was starting to seep from her skin starting from the base of her arms where she frenziedly pulled on them. Pain assailed her mind like the biting of numerous ants, yet the pain was nothing compared to her growing desolation as she saw the dagger stab down from Morgan's hands.
Time itself seemed to slow as the dagger's edge inched forward millisecond after millisecond right before her eyes and reflected in her irises. She grew hysteric.
She didn't know what she was screaming out anymore, curses, pleads, warnings, she didn't care so long as she got Morgan to stop her dagger.
In the end, nothing she did changed anything.
The dagger stabbed at Shirou's neck ruthlessly, its metal tip meeting flesh and producing a shower of sparks.
She stared in a daze, but no one was more startled by the development than Morgan.
"He's quite resilient isn't he," Morgan muttered under her breath. "The blood of Dragons? How troublesome."
Morgan withdrew her dagger into her cloak, standing still as she contemplated a solution. With the discovery of Shirou's physical capabilities, she now had even more of a reason to eliminate him before he grew too strong.
"W-What are you going to do?" Arturia asked, seeing Morgan smiling darkly. The relief she had felt after seeing Shirou survive Morgan's attack disappeared completely.
"It's simple. If I can't harm him physically, then I'll do so mentally," she extended her arms out on either side of Shirou's head, magic circles forming over her palms like the merciless vices around Arturia's heart.
"No, no, please no," she shook her head in denial, complexion deathly pale. "Don't you dare!"
Morgan simply grunted. In less than a second, the magic within her hands activated, directly shooting arcs of magical light through Shirou's skull. A dull buzzing noise resounded out followed by the wobbling of Shirou's body before it fell over the ground unmoving.
The light in Arturia's eyes died, something within her shattering and hurting so much that she didn't know if she'd be able to bear it.
"MOOORGANN!" Her voice was hoarse, laced with so much grief that it strained her vocal chords dry.
Left without anywhere to go, the energy left behind by the Ashton Slate created a vacuum of energy that sucked everything into it including Shirou as it levitated high up into the air and exploded outwards.
Nothing was left behind in the explosion's wake.
Nothing.
The entire scene entered her eyes, filling her with such agony that she began to weep involuntarily.
"Yes! That's it, it's that expression exactly!" Morgan's voice resounded in front of her, but she didn't even care anymore. "How does it feel little sister, to have something you care so much for unjustly taken away from you?"
Tears stained her cheeks wet as she shut her eyes tightly, whimpering lowly, her chest heaving up and down in long drawn out sobs. He was gone. He was gone, the thought just kept repeating in her mind like a curse, the Love he had showered her in akin to the sharpest of blades.
"Kill me," her voice was heartbroken, her head bowed low.
Indeed, the thought had entered Morgan's mind, and after seeing Arturia in such a vulnerable state, it would be a lie to say that she wasn't tempted. However, she was a logical woman. She had already completed her objective and no matter how much the urge to kill Arturia festered within her, she wouldn't rashly act upon it without caution. Merlin was her younger sister's teacher, and she would be a fool to believe that a Wizard like him had not left any life-saving countermeasures.
"Kill you? Why would I do that?" She strode up to Arturia, pinching her cheeks dotingly. "Sometimes it's worse to live than it is to die."
She cradled Arturia's expressionless face with her hands, drawing her head closer to whisper piercingly into her ears.
"Your Knight is gone because you as his King was unable to protect him where he had always protected you," she patted Arturia's head in consolation. "And now he's no more."
Morgan smiled before stepping away and mockingly curtsying. "Bear the consequence of your inability little sister, my revenge is only beginning."
Her words said, Morgan disappeared; a flock of crows soaring through the night sky unhindered as an eerie silence descended on the area.
The restraints that bound Arturia gradually loosened before they broke all together, turning into dust yet she didn't so much as move. She fell on her knees, not even registering the impact or the clanging of her armour. Her gaze was hollow, unfocused, as if nothing in the world mattered anymore.
And perhaps, maybe nothing did.
Efret weakly cawed while crawling up, its soft call drawing her attention towards something she had missed in her despair.
A red jewel and a piece of fabric snagged over a sharp rock.
The only thing left she had of him.
She scrambled towards it as if it were a lifeline, uncaring for her image and holding it tightly to her chest while weeping.
In the midst of it all, only a single thought remained in her mind as she stared blankly into space.
I don't want to be alone.
A bout of rain had hit the British Isles within the recent days and it only continued to poor unhindered in the greyed skies. On one hand, the rain would inevitably help the crops germinate and bloom for the coming spring, but on the other hand, all military campaigns were forced to stop. Thick swaths of mud and plenty of rain were creating marsh fields in areas of lower elevation that hindered deployment of military supplies and movements.
This was the reason why both the Saxons and Britons ceased hostilities in the previous week, and it was also the source of Kay's boredom. He'd been impersonating the role of King Arthur under the guise of Merlin's magic in the recent months and the fighting had been his sole source of entertainment.
He sighed aloud while riding his horse on a roadside leading to a remote military base established under Merlin's instruction. It was a choke point for the next frontal assault when the clouds parted and it was where he needed to be lest he get scolded by Sir Ector for his tardiness.
He was riding along a worn gravel road filled with the occasional pothole so he was forced to go at a moderate pace. Rain battered on his armour and obscured visibility so he cupped a hand over his forehead to prevent the water from irritating his eyes. The action itself was rather normal, but it was what he noticed because of it that mattered.
The place he was travelling through was fairly remote with hardly any towns or stops in-between, therefore the sight of a figure huddled with their knees pressed to their chest in the downpour was surprising. More so when he squinted and got a better look.
His expression shifted to one of befuddlement, mouth thinning while his brows furrowed. The direction his horse was galloping in quickly altered.
"I've heard of Kings unable to obtain lodgings on short notice, but I've never heard of a King siting alone in the rain?" He spoke out as soon as he got close, using the mantle over his shoulders as a tarp to shield the individual in front of him from the rain.
Arturia didn't respond, her body shivering and fingers turning blue.
Kay blinked as he assessed her.
He swiftly pulled his mantle off of his shoulders and wrapped his little sister in it before pulling her in close to share his warmth. "You're freezing. Damn it Arturia what are you thinking in that head of yours? This isn't what you said when you promised Sir Ector and I to take care of yourself!"
He didn't wait for Arturia to answer in his haste. He placed one hand behind her back and another beneath her legs before hoisting her up from where she sat on the ground, placing her onto his horse. He saddled up promptly after, enveloping Arturia's smaller body with his own as he took the reins and prompted the horse forward.
Seated in front of him, Arturia felt smaller than he remembered her to be. She must have lost weight in the past few days and hadn't been eating enough. Moreover, how long had she been out in the rain for? Her constitution was far better than others were and it would take a lot to reduce her to her current state. The fact that Shirou let this happen to her dumfounded him.
The next time he saw Shirou, they would certainly have words. For the time being however, all that mattered was reaching camp and putting Arturia in front of a fire and a warm meal. Mind burdened with Arturia's horrid state, he made the decision to leave the main road and take a shortcut through the fields.
The horse's hooves clopped unevenly on the wet ground, yet as chance would have it, conditions weren't as bad as he was expecting and the camp came within view after half-an-hour at the most.
"Open the gates!" He called out from a distance away, his voice carrying to the sentries stationed on the promptly made wooden high walls. However, the sentries hesitated.
He wasn't in the guise of King Arthur and none of the recently recruited men recognized him as part of the army. They wouldn't possibly allow entry into the military camp by the orders of some nobody.
"Of all the fucking times," he cursed, hands pulling on the reins as he took a breath. "Its Sir Kay of the Foul End!" he spoke the title with disgust before growing irritable when no response came from it. "Father, Merlin, open the goddamn gates!"
His voice caused a stir within the camp. Many had heard of Sir Kay before, but although he was known as a comrade, his reputation was far from pleasing. A knight who tainted their sword with horse shit before going into an honourable battle was always frowned upon. It was only because Sir Ector and Merlin were mentioned that the gates were reluctantly opened by the sentries on Sir Ector's insistence from the inside.
"Bastards," Kay muttered under his breath. It wasn't as if it was him that had actively sought to sully his reputation, it was all the fault of Llamrei.
Misgivings aside, he prioritized the teenage brat in his arms over anything else and rode passed the judging stares of the camp to directly move towards the lit fire at the center. A large tarp was erected overhead to prevent the rain from snuffing out the flames and it was currently pooling water.
He grimaced upon seeing the sight but simply notified someone else to deal with it before pulling Artruia into his arms and setting her a foot away from the fire. She was well within the emitted heat and it wasn't long before some redness was returning to her complexion.
After he had sat Arturia down, Sir Ector and Merlin appeared to question him. The two had been late to arrive camp due to his sudden entrance and the need to quell the commotion in the camp.
"You know, if you'd came through the entrance, I specifically left open for you, you wouldn't have made such a mess at the front," Sir Ector lectured with a sigh.
Kay had no response. He just shook his head and pointed at Arturia. "I needed to get her out of the rain as soon as I could," he explained.
Gaze moving in the direction Kay pointed, Sir Ector grew baffled.
"Arturia?" Sir Ector and Merlin immediately recognized Arturia's features yet the differences from before and now were too apparent.
Her cheeks had sunken in somewhat and the vigour that had used to exude from her face had been replaced by a dull indifference. Red discolorations had formed beneath her eyes and no one present was sure if it was because of the rain or if she'd been crying too hard and for too long.
She didn't respond when called, sniffling silently to herself.
Kay frowned. Now that he thought about it, she hadn't spoken to him once since he'd found her either.
Something was wrong. Something fundamentally wrong and he was a fool to not have considered it before. Knowing Shirou, he would never have had left Arturia alone in such conditions, and this thought was the key.
Alone. Why was she alone?
"Where's Shirou?" The question left his mouth before he even considered the implications.
There was no expression on Arturia's face, yet an unfathomable pain flickered in her eyes. An unbridled hatred suffused within them that only Merlin noticed.
For the first time since she'd returned, she opened her mouth to speak.
"He's dead," she rasped out in a croaked voice. She unable to protect him when he needed it the most. She stared at Merlin and the others, watching the shock that played across their expressions and balled her hands into fists. "I-I want to be alone for a bit. I need to think," she forced out.
Kay and the others looked at each other and held back any questions they may have had. With the condition Arturia was in, it really wasn't appropriate. Only Merlin seemed insistent on remaining but he relented when Sir Ector grabbed his arm and shook his head. Sir Ector could see the act she was pulling for what it really was.
The three left without much noise, and it was only then that the mask Arturia had barely been maintaining gradually crumbled.
Another lump was forming in her throat and moisture was accumulating in her eyes. Every single memory, every single interaction she had had with Shirou played in her thoughts without end, beating at her ceaselessly like ocean waves.
She drew her knees to her chest and buried her face over her elbows.
She suppressed the emotions within her, no longer focusing on her grief but on what needed to be done, her Duty and her Vengeance.
If Morgan wanted to be King,
Then she would make sure that Morgan would never get the chance. Never.
She looked up at the flickering flames before her and wondered what Shirou would have said to her at the moment in an attempt to comfort herself.
Yet all it did was further the realization that he would no longer be there to stand beside her.
And that thought hurt her more than anything.
She fell into a heavy silence once again.
A King without her Knight.
Thanks for Reading!
P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious