Fate-in time

91

The Ashton Crest came to life over Shirou's palm, exuding an energy that engulfed the entire the area the effects of which could be seen immediately.
I

t was like the strings of a marionette had been cut as Mordred slumped to the ground on all fours. Deep grooves were dug into the dirt by her fingers, her hands balling into tightly clenched fists that uprooted numerous leaves of grass and weeds beneath her. Tears were welled up in her eyes, and her shoulders were trembling as the weeping began.
It was difficult to see with her head bowed, but traces of anguish and grief could be seen through the slow pitter patter of tears falling from her cheeks. Her lips were quivering, her features twisted into an uncomfortable bawling that reddened her eyes and flushed her cheeks, ugly and unappealing. Snot trailed from her nose like a child in such pain that there was no care for one's image. Her small Adam's apple bobbed up and down as she swallowed futilely in a bid to collect herself, but she was failing each and every time.
The only thing she was able to do was open and close her mouth, the jumbled apologies spewing forth profusely in an almost incomprehensible gibberish. "I'm s..o.r.r.y. I'm s..o.r.r.y..." she just continued to croak lowly towards no one in particular, her voice breaking each and every time.
Silence reigned, and no one had the heart to move.
Mordred had always been a strong girl both outwardly and inwardly, but when she slowly sat up on her knees after exhausting her tears and everyone got a good look at the expression she was making, the urge to murder someone had never been so overwhelming.
There was no life in her eyes. The vibrancy she'd carried since the day she'd been appointed as the King's guard was replaced by a gut-wrenching hollowness. Her complexion was pallid, her gaze unfocused until gradually looking down at her herself.
She was staring at her own hands while opening and closing her fingers as if stunned that she could actually control them. She laughed self-depreciatingly, sounding more like sobs than anything amusing.
William Orwell, the Knight closest to Mordred raised a hand to console her in some way, but gradually lowered it after realizing that he had nothing he could say. There was no hiding the way he kept looking at Shirou and Arturia imploringly. However, things began to escalate out of anyone's predictions.
As Mordred fully realized that yes, she had control of herself, her pupils suddenly constricted and an ominous feeling immediately took root in Shirou's heart. He could hardly bear the oppressive silence in the air for any longer and stepped forward. "Mordred?" He called out tentatively.
She didn't answer, didn't even seem to register him; no, it was more like she refused to because she flinched the moment that she heard his voice.
Without warning, she drew her sword, the shing of metal leaving its sheath echoing. Her grip over the pommel was shaky, her hands unable to keep a steady grip, but one thing was clear as she leveled the edge of her blade over her neck, she had to be stopped.
"No, wait!" Shirou dashed forward, his heart dropping in his chest while Arturia and the rest couldn't hide their shock.
Time seemed to slow down from Shirou's perspective. Each step, each breath, each yell, seemed painfully unable to change the outcome as Mordred practically tossed herself into her sword. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
He was too far away to reach her in time, and in this instance of crisis, William Orwell didn't fail to act. He tackled her to the ground, forcibly knocking her sword aside in the process. She thrashed and flailed, and when it looked like she would shove William away, the rest of her knights dog-piled her and pinned her to the bottom with only her head able to peak out. She pursed her lips, gaze misty.
"Lady Mordred, please just stop!" William pleaded along with the rest of Mordred's loyal knights, their earnest shouts only causing Mordred to wilt further.
"What is going on with you Mordred?" Unable to hold herself back anymore, Arturia rushed forward with Shirou to stand by Mordred's side. Only Shirou knew that Arturia wasn't asking the question she truly wished to ask on Mordred's behalf. Mordred's present mental state wasn't good.
Upon hearing Arturia's question, although Mordred reacted, she didn't seem able to bear craning her chin up to meet Arturia's gaze. However, when she felt Shirou place a hand over her head telling her that everything would be okay, she quivered before letting out a sob. She shook her head, and sharply glared up at Shirou and Arturia looking utterly broken.
"I...kille..d hi..m." Her expression shattered into hysterics, her lips quivering as a lump formed in her throat. "I killed him! P-Pinned him to a wall...!" she croaked out forcibly while struggling beneath William and her other knights. "I can't take it anymore. B-Before she makes me do anything else, I'd rather kill myself!"
Mordred shut her eyes tight, wheezing as tears trickled down her face once more. She banged her forehead into the dirt, once, twice, muffling the sound of her screaming in self loathing as she clenched her hands into fists so tightly that her armour-ringed fingers creaked audibly. Her breaths became chocked again, brittle and filled with such emotion that she could hardly speak. "He called me sister a.n.d...I...gav.e...h..i.m..a... swor.d...in...response..."
Blood trickled across Mordred's forehead, but she didn't even seem to notice in her anguish. When William and the rest tried to stop her movements, she threw them off with her sheer physical strength before clambering forward to grab at Shirou's thighs, as if trying to convince him that it was better for her to die. After all, Shirou had confiscated her sword and Arturia was making sure that the other knights had sheathed their own weapons.
"Agravain died for someone like me. Someone like me! A tool who only gets those she cares about killed because they thought me human and couldn't kill me when they had the chance!" Mordred wailed bitterly. "Don't you understand?! He chose me over his own life! It was a mistake! I couldn't even defend the twins, and caused Merlin to lose! Please just give me back my sword!"
Shirou looked down at Mordred; looked at how utterly pained she was, and could hardly hold back the sheer fury welling up from his very being. He almost didn't know how to react when she called herself a 'tool.' He was too angry to even think clearly, but Arturia was different. She went completely still when unnoticed by all but her, a magic circle formed on the back of Mordred's armour crackling with tendrils of magical light.
Both Shirou and Mordred quickly became stunned as the magic circle expanded and thrummed with explosive intent. Sigils and revolving patterns engulfed Mordred in a translucent film that began sapping Shirou of magic energy the moment it touched him. This gave way to another magic circle that immediately blistered with potent flame.
Suddenly, Arturia shoved Mordred away, and tackled Shirou to the side as a compressed blast of heat and power scorched the area that they were just in. William and the others nearby were scalded, but not too injured since Mordred had thrown them off far enough from the explosion not to reach them.
Shirou grimaced. Hovering in the area he'd just been at was a black sphere that quickly took on the shape of a person with revealing dark robes inlaid with blue pattern and a thin veil the shape of a crown. There seemed to be something wrong with her left arm, as it didn't seem natural, but it didn't take away from her image in the least.
A face so similar to Arturia's own could vaguely be seen, but it was twisted into a sneer of derision. Long tresses of wheat blond hair cascaded down her back all the way to her waist, while a threaded pattern was braided near her temples using a part of her bangs. Her features were soft and regal, high cheek bones matted lightly with a rosy hue and thin lips the colour of cherries.
She was a beauty incomparable and fully deserving of her title as the fairest in the land, but in Mordred's eyes, the figure was the Devil herself.
"As expected, just like before, my control slips completely whenever you draw near a member of the Ashtons. In any case, you didn't actually try to kill yourself, now did you? Do you really hate me that much?"
"No get away!" A wretched plea escaped Mordred's lips before bands of blue magical energy entwined around her ankles, up her legs, and then around her arms, restricting her in place.
"Behave," the words were icy cold, not even a glance spared in Mordred's direction before muffling Mordred's mouth. All of the woman's attention was on the glowing Ashton Crest on Shirou's hand.
Finally, when the woman's gaze shifted to Arturia who wasn't fully able to mask the sense of anxiety she was feeling, the woman grinned in a pleasant mood. "Sister, it's been years."
"Bitch."
Morgan scowled.
Shirou could see the lump Arturia swallowed down at her sister's presence. If it wasn't abundantly clear before about who was responsible for their missing children and Mordred's plight, it was now.
Rage caused his body to tremble in agitation. It was one thing to lot against him, but it was another to harm someone he'd promised himself to protect.
She actually had the gall to appear in front of him?
Magic energy began to leak from his body, exuding out in a halo of wind and light. The reeds began to sway, dancing in the breeze of an onset of pressure. The hue of his eyes shone a dazzling red, a characteristic much like the Demi-Gods of old who had ties with parents that weren't just humans.
"I warned you."
The air rippled and warped before in the blink of an eye, a cage of swords encircled the horizon, closing off all avenues of escape. Before Morgan could even react, a red spear of anti-magic properties abruptly shattered the reverse summing circle she had subtly activated.
"You're not going anywhere," he held his hand out in front of him, constricting the size of his encirclement to a ten-meter radius, causing Morgan's eyes to dart left and right.
Rather than grow intimidated, or appalled, she nodded as if everything was within her expectations.
Everything stopped all at once.
"Uh ugh," Morgan swished her index finger back and forth, shifting herself to wrap an arm around Mordred. "Go ahead. Do it. Kill us. I won't even defend. It's exactly what this homunculus wants anyway." The fact that Mordred didn't even speak up for herself was the final straw. "Oh, and do be careful. If I notice any attempt to release my dear Mordred, then this will activate."
Morgan poked Mordred on her left temple, exposing a tiny magic circle that pulsed with acute energy. She then cupped Mordred's cheek like a loving mother nonchalantly pinching at her naughty child's face. "I already knew that you could somehow nullify my control over Mordred just by being close to her, so I came up with insurance in the case she ever betrayed me as well." Although Morgan spoke leisurely, the way she pointedly stared at the red spear that had directly shattered her magic circle revealed traces of her discomfort. "Now that I also see that you have a means to destroy my magic, I suggest you put the swords away. You wouldn't want to scare me and make me activate this, now will you?"
Morgan tapped once more over the magic circle on Mordred's temple.
Dammit. he still had options.
Surely he still had options. For instance, he could try Rule Breaker and see if he could get Mordred free. However, the magical fluctuations of Noble Phantasm such as Rule Breaker would be impossible for Morgan to notice forming. His Reality Marble was also an alternative, but he had to gauge how long it would take to deploy it, and how long it would take Morgan to tap a finger and activate her magic circle. Considering that Morgan already had Mordred at arm's reach, there was no question about who had the advantage in time even if he somehow managed to Trace Rule Breaker behind her and stab Mordred free. After all, even if Rule Breaker proved effective, he wouldn't magically just switch places with Morgan who would likely just kill Mordred through another means.
Shirou's features remained carefully blank, but soon enough, the swords he'd Traced vanished one by one. The smile that bloomed over Morgan's face, and the grief over Mordred's were polar opposites.
"You my dear Lord Ashton, are a monster," Morgan said idly while once again creating a reverse summoning circle beneath her. "However, your inability to kill a mere homunculus paints you as soft. As a sovereign, it's clear that you don't have the capability to make the hard decisions whereas I have learned to cast aside petty feelings and baggage. I can do what needs to be done."
"It's not a weakness to be human!" William argued on Shirou's behalf, but a majority of his attention was focused on Mordred.
Morgan's eyes narrowed, a sharp glint revealing her displeasure. "Someone like you has no right to interrupt, but no matter," she turned her attention back to Shirou, completely ignoring Arturia who was fidgeting at the sight of Morgan making a getaway. "Compassion and emotions are weakness. Only when you can throw away meaningless titles such as friends, family, and loved ones can you attain the right to be King. I'll prove it to you."
Shirou felt the hairs at the back of his neck raise when Morgan directed her smile at him. It was Arturia's face, her likeness, but it all felt so terribly wrong with Morgan's personality.
"I will give you two choices after letting you in on a little secret." Morgan said cryptically.
Arturia perked up her ears at the admission, but Morgan didn't say a word verbally. Instead, she directly transferred the information to Shirou who's features abruptly hardened before his eyes widened.
"Y-You cruel woman, that's just too much." He was shaking in frustration and shock. Finally, he gathered himself, but couldn't shake away his disbelief. "What sort of mother are you?!"
Indifference coloured Morgan's expression. "I await your choice," was all she said as the fluctuations in the reverse summoning circle grew denser and denser.
"Shirou, what did she say?" Arturia spoke up nervously, her lips pursed. It was easy to see what she was thinking about. "D-Did she say anything about Artus and Annabel?"
He shook his head, scowling while trying to think of a method to keep Morgan from fleeing. However, the way Morgan constantly tapped her finger over Mordred's temple kept him fully restrained from acting out on anything.
Time wasn't on his side. The reverse summoning circle around Morgan and Mordred hummed before a sheen of translucent barrier-like film enveloped them. Tendrils of writhing sparks singed the ground in arcs, and just when it seemed like they would vanish, Arturia had enough of being ignored.
"M-My babies!" She called out desperately, casting aside any pride or posturing and letting maternal instincts override all else.
Rather than answer right away, Morgan carefully slipped a hand into the pouch at her side to produce several tattered strips of baby bundles which she tossed towards Arturia whose complexion grew ghastly.
"Will this suffice for an answer?" She gloated.
No reply came.
Arturia had caught a few pieces of the torn baby bundles, and could still feel the warmth of her children on them as if they'd just been wrapped in them. She clutched them dearly, looking as if her world was ending.
Mordred eyes glanced from Morgan to Arturia then back before focusing on the vindictive gleam of Morgan's features. She screamed and thrashed, just barely able to maneuver enough to temporarily slip the muffle over her mouth off.
"She's lying they're not-!"
"That's enough out of you." Morgan lifted a finger, and thoroughly locked Mordred down before giving one final look to him and Arturia. "You best hurry. I'll see you both in Camelot."
A second later, and the reverse summoning circle activated.
Morgan and Mordred were gone.
Oppressive silence was all that remained while Arturia couldn't keep her attention off of the torn baby bundles in her hands. Their design was sloppy and unskilled, but Shirou knew full well that it was Arturia who had made them by hand for her babies with Guinevere's help. She shuddered, her eyes a storm of turbulence that quickly leveled on William and the other knights at the border camp.
"Prepare the stables!" She swallowed, the hands holding onto the baby bundles trembling. Her mouth was dry, and it felt as if she was ill and couldn't breathe.
No one moved a muscle. Arturia bit down on her lower lip so hard that she drew blood. She was practically glaring, all manner of pretenses shed in light of the circumstances. "Don't just stand there! Go and ready the stables!"
Frightened by the ever-composed Queen's uncharacteristic display, a few of the knights began to relay the order into the base camp. Without even asking, it was clear what Arturia's intentions were, and the scary part was, Shirou wasn't disagreeing with the notion.
Madness. This was madness. William Orwell couldn't just sit and watch this unfold.
"Wait! Belay that order!" William interjected, immediately drawing Arturia's displeasure as she cradled her children's baby bundles close. Still, William braved on not for his sake, but for Mordred's. "You both mustn't leave so rashly!" He chastised. "Think this through! I know I'm uninvolved, but don't you think its odd that the main perpetrator of a plot would show up in person?"
Shirou froze at the query, his mind spinning. The longer he thought on it, the odder Morgan's actions seemed. To begin with, she'd even said in her own words that she expected whatever spell she had on Mordred to be ineffective around him, but she'd still sent Mordred anyway. Then, as if to toss oil into a fire, Morgan had arrived directly in front of them when she'd never resorted to such actions before.
William provided the clearest answer.
"Its provocation, plain and simple...and it's working." William felt a suffocating pressure from Arturia as she steadily grew frustrated at delays, but he pressed on even as beads of sweat matted his brows. "With all due respect my King and Queen, but based on what I've seen, Morgan has surely prepared extensively for this moment. It's likely that she has already created a base of foundation in Camelot. Strong as you both are, and you have my utmost confidence, but if you truly think that Morgan wouldn't have considered the both of you charging in blind, then that's just naïve."
William inclined his head imploringly, the black eye on his face a mark of pride and passage. He was a Knight of Mordred. If there was anyone that deserved praise, recognition, and happiness, it was her. What William had just scene regarding Mordred was the furthest from happy.
He got down on his knees and bowed lowly. "Lady Mordred is hurting under Morgan's spell! You both are the only hope my knight's and I have. Please reconsider and think this through. The both of you would only be walking into a trap, and what then will become of lady Mordred?!"
The logic of William's words was enough to snap Shirou out of his own daze. To be truthful, he'd been feeling a little out of it after recalling what Morgan had shared with him. The fact that he couldn't think of what she said as a lie was the most disconcerting. He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and then opened his eyes again.
"Arturia...he's right and you know it," he said.
This wasn't what Arturia wanted to hear, but the frustration and bitterness gave way to the weakness she was truly feeling. Her features scrunched up in distress, and it was taking all that she had just to not scream.
"Then what am I supposed to do?!" She raised her voice, her knees wobbling as she staggered. "I-It hurts." She placed her left hand over her heart. "Right here, and it's driving me insane."
No one could offer any sort of comfort to her. Anything said right now would merely be superficial. The only method that could possibly work was if she could somehow get a hold of her babies and hug them close.
While looking as if she'd been stabbed through the heart, Arturia could only endure. Not even Shirou had a method at this moment, but what he did have was the mind to prevent them from doing something irreversible. William was right. Acting rash now would help not help their case.
Carefully, he gripped Arturia's shoulders and had her face him, their foreheads touching in a bid to soothe her. "I know it's hard, but we can't just ignore the warnings of others. I want to save our family just as much as you. Do you not think it's the same for me?"
Arturia opened then closed her mouth, unable to respond and instead, sniffled before shifting her gaze away, her silence an answer.
The sight gave William grounds for relief, and just as he was about to suggest a conference to plan about how best to save Mordred, a new arrival could be seen galloping on horseback in the distance. There was only one person, but the pressure that the individual exuded felt as if an entire cavalry were charging. This was an aspect of a type of magecraft known as the 'almighty' of the Blue Bloods.
When the stranger drew closer, and pulled on the reins of their horse, a face could be seen from beneath a neat bun, and riding leathers. The rider stepped off the horse, and offered a curt greeting that neither he nor Arturia could respond to right away in their melancholy. It was a woman of short stature, modest attire, a now neutral appearance, and the warmest heart in all of Bristol.
It was a person that Shirou and Arturia hadn't seen in months.
"Emily," Shirou called out with a wry smile. His enthusiasm in seeing an old friend wasn't quite there at present, but then again, neither was Emily's.
The smile on Emily's face didn't quite reach her ears despite their reunion. "I have some bad news," she said dispiritedly.
Of course, she did.
Shirou felt his stomach lurch. Anything regarding Emily meant something related to the Mages Association, or external factors affecting Camelot which fell under House Barthomeloi's discretion under Emily's directive.
Bad news was the last thing he wanted to hear, but remaining ignorant was worse than being informed and prepared.
Emily didn't beat around the bush.
"An entire regiment of Clock Tower magi not in the line of their family's succession have defected to Morgan's side on the promise of better prospects and rare 'research material.'" Emily informed professionally. However, she couldn't quite hide the way her expression twisted when she spoke of the last condition.
She stared at Arturia, then at the ground, then back at Arturia, then back at the ground. For a second she became tongue-tied with how to elaborate. She couldn't in good conscience act in Barthomeloi fashion and deliver the news as is to her friends. Instead, she decided to levy the blow through exposition to allow Shirou and Arturia to reach the conclusion for themselves.
"Dragons are at the apex of Phantasmal Species in terms of magic and might, meaning that anything related to them is grounds for extensive study." Emily began hesitantly. "You may not know this, but the entire Mages' Association is built upon the corpse of a Dragon and till this day, its mysteries still fuel the Clock Tower."
"Dragons?" Suddenly, Shirou became alert, sneaking a careful glance at Arturia who, already in a high-strung state, was quick to notice.
Arturia suddenly stilled as dawning realization gave way to horror. "W-What are you getting at?" She felt her hands grow clammy as Emily pursed her lips.
Emily couldn't meet Arturia's eyes. "Dragons are rare in this era of humanity, but it's not as if remnants don't exist." The implied 'I'm looking at one,' remained unsaid in the air. "I've heard that Morgan has promised enough material for all magi who join her, but at present I only know of four who qualify including Morgan herself who could 'contribute' such material. Realistically there shouldn't be enough to go around and the only other way to get more is to naturally or artificially induce preg..."
Emily scowled while trailing off considering the sensitivity of the matter. She shook her head and grunted with knit brows. Knowing the magic community, the basis of ill morals would be frowned upon, but not rejected. "This includes you Arturia, but you should order Mordred to take care, and keep your children under constant guard- Did I say something wrong?"
Arturia stormed off mid-sentence, a choked sob escaping her lips while a dark look flickered across Shirou's face. No one dared block her as she made her way to the border camp's stables in an almost hysteric dash.
Shirou exercised an unimaginable amount of self-control in order to signal William to somehow stop Arturia from acting rash. In the meantime, Emily looked utterly bewildered.
"I'll tell you later," Shirou said grimly, worry, outrage, and anger bleeding into his features. "Just keep going."
Emily frowned, her brows knitting together as she chanced a look at where Arturia had run off to, but could only hear the sounds of a commotion. She shook her head and focused since Shirou said he'd inform her later.
"House Gwent has been declared a traitor by Camelot," she began a small tirade of misgivings regarding Camelot's current state. "Voices of dissent are being heavily suppressed through hypnosis in order to sway public opinion for the coronation for Mordred to be the new ruler. Your most vocal public supporters are being shifted to your most fervent political enemies, and the masses can do nothing. There has been an entire reshuffle regarding Camelot's structure of power and Merlin is nowhere to be found. Merlin was crafty though, and before his disappearance he was able to leave an image of petals that took on the shape of a sheath. I have no idea what it means though, and I figured you might have a clue."
There was only one sheath that came to mind when it was about Merlin, the name of which corresponded to a realm beyond the current world layer.
Avalon...fuck.
Did this mean that Merlin had gotten trapped again? This information didn't bode well, and after he'd warned the womanizer time and time again that women would be the doom of him.
Ignorant to his thoughts, Emily surmised her findings into a single observation in the form of a statement.
"A rebellion is brewing."
A prophecy was reaching its conclusion in a different manner than expected.
The Red Dragon vs the White Dragon for the right to rule.
Elsewhere, Kay sighed for the umpteenth time while pacing back and forth with his hands behind him. After numerous hours of contemplation, he'd come a decision.
"They need a warrior?" He slowly put on a Saxon pointed-helmet to obscure his features. "I'll give them a warrior."
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