FATE/NOVUS ORDO SECLORUM

"New Order of the Ages"

Chapter 1: Celtic Princess

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This and any future stories involving Connla will assume that you have read both Fate/Laoch Gan Finsceal and Fate/Outside Experience, so some details already covered there will not be explained here. If you haven't read those, I recommend you do so before this one so you aren't too confused.

In one of the many bedchambers designated to the Servants of Chaldea, a purple-haired Lancer slept deeply, unable to be roused by any sort of external stimuli. Her True Name was Connla, the Child of Cuchulainn and one of Fujimaru Ritsuka's Servants. Although she didn't have the power or stamina that the adults possessed, she was notable for her ridiculous speed and disturbingly youthful age. At only seven years old, she was genuinely the youngest Heroic Spirit in the entire roster, but it proved to be a constant detriment because she couldn't last long in the deadlier battles without help.

The previous day, Connla had just survived an assault from the Berserker version of the Arthurian hero Lancelot. Normally she was not capable of fighting dangerous Servants of such high caliber, but thanks to some quick thinking and external intervention, she managed to squeak out a narrow victory. Unfortunately, she fell into a deep coma immediately upon returning to headquarters, and remained unresponsive for the last 24 hours. One of the four versions of the Heroic Spirit Cuchulainn – the terrifying Berserker who called himself Alter – watched over her condition vigilantly.

As he observed her sleeping, a strange thought crossed his mind:

I may not remember much of that Singularity, but I'm pretty sure Connla was not involved in that one. I shudder to think of what would've happened if she saw me spreading chaos and destruction upon the United States.

He was referring to one of the seven core Singularities that all of Chaldea was tasked with correcting in order to preserve humanity's history. In particular, the fifth of these Singularities would be written in Chaldea's records as E Pluribus Unum, or 'out of many, one', because it was a war that took place in colonial America between the United Western States and the eastern Celtic armies ruled by Queen Medb and the irregular Mad King Cuchulainn. Ritsuka, her Servants, and the friends they met along the way initially refused to ally themselves with the Presi-King Thomas Edison due to his warped belief in saving the country before the world, but after some 'convincing' (read: fighting), they settled their differences and unified to defeat the Celts, thereby resolving the Singularity.

That was the incident that Chaldea was familiar with. However, in this vast universe full of parallel dimensions and infinite possibilities, it wasn't necessarily true that this was the one and only E Pluribus Unum that ever occurred. Cuchulainn didn't know it, but Connla's mind was so far away that it felt like she was in a near-death state. She was being pulled further and further away from home, losing control of herself and being absorbed into a different person's mind.

What Connla was tapping into as she slept was beyond imagination; this was the memory essence of another version of herself who was involved in a very similar incident to the Fifth Singularity. It was a mystery how and/or why one Connla in a completely different dimension could extend her memories to the Connla who worked at Chaldea. What was the point of showing her an event that no one would ever have any record of? Was it some kind of message? A warning? Or perhaps just a long-gone girl's desire to pass her story on to an equivalent of herself? It was impossible to know the answer for sure.

However, just as Chaldea's Cuchulainn Alter was exposed to the memories of the E Pluribus Unum and Laoch Gan Finsceal versions of himself, Connla was also experiencing memories that didn't belong to her, yet felt completely natural because they were lived out by someone almost identical to her. There was nothing she could do to control what she saw. She was but a passenger in someone else's life as she slept through one of the most intense dreams she ever had. It wasn't real to her, but it was real to someone else at some time, and that made the events depicted here all the more compelling.

As Cuchulainn feared, this was an E Pluribus Unum that would involve Connla, whereas the other one never even mentioned her whatsoever. What her role would be in this retelling was anyone's guess, as events and characters from one story never followed the same paths in a parallel universe. Nonetheless, she was going to witness everything firsthand as if she had been there…

Alternate Fifth Singularity – A.D. 1783

Humanity Foundation Value: A+

North American Myth War: Novus Ordo Seclorum

The Divided Princess

Ben Nevis, Scotland, July 1782

High in the mountains of Scotland was a lone hut, which was home to only two people – a mother named Aife and her daughter Connla. They were miles away from any civilization, and the mother relied upon a single horse she owned to get around. Aife selected this place to live on purpose, since she was inhumanly cruel to her daughter and didn't want the child to be influenced by anyone other than her. Connla wasn't regarded as a beloved offspring, but as a scullery maid who served her mother and was rewarded with both physical and mental abuse. The unloving mother would hide behind the excuse that her daughter needed to 'be tough in order to face the world's cruelty', but in reality, Aife flat out despised Connla's existence and wanted to watch her suffer.

On this day, Aife ordered Connla to gather some food out in the wild. It didn't matter if there were demon boars, werewolves and other forms of monster life lurking out there – Connla had to make do by surviving with her fighting skills. With the girl out of the house for a while, Aife could kick back and read in peace and quiet.

"Hah… Nothing like a sunny afternoon to myself," she murmured to herself and reached for her book.

That was when she heard some kind of banging coming from outside. She scowled in consternation and though, Damn that worthless girl. Is she causing trouble again?

The warrior woman got up from her chair and went to the door to investigate…

Several hours later, an exhausted Connla returned to the hut with a decent haul of fruits and vegetables she gathered. She had to use all of her strength to carry the heavy basket, knowing that Aife would not be satisfied unless she came back with enough to last a few days.

If only I had the strength to bring back that boar I killed, I could've made a nice stew for us…

Just because she was finished gathering didn't mean her arduous chores were over. Despite how tired she was, the six-year old now had to worry about making dinner and cleaning up before she was permitted to go to bed. There was no way to know if Aife would dump other tasks on her from out of nowhere as well. Connla had to stay alert and be prepared for anything before she could hit her head on the pillow without being whipped.

As she rounded the bend to the house, she noticed that the door was left wide open and was swaying in the wind. She looked over at the stable and saw that her mother's horse was missing. Her skin blanched, and she rushed up to see where the animal was – she knew that it was Aife's most precious possession, perhaps even more important than Connla was. If the horse was gone, she knew she was going to be bedridden with serious wounds for several days. She looked around thoroughly, but it was nowhere to be seen.

Faced with no other choice, Connla called out, "Mother?"

No response. The little girl ran up to the creaking front door and was not greeted with her mother's usual austere expression, which worried her. She stepped inside and went to the kitchen.

That was the moment when her life would change dramatically.

Connla found Aife splayed in an awkward sitting position on the floor. Copious amounts of blood spattered the wall from a gaping stab wound in her chest. The dead woman's eyes bulged wide open in frozen horror, and her jaw remained dropped as low as could be. A gaunt man that Connla had never met before stood over the corpse, with the tip of his jagged spear dripping with blood.

She didn't notice that she had dropped her basket, scattering food all over the floor. The clattering sound attracted the stranger's attention, and he turned toward the child. She couldn't get a good look at the man, but even though his form was silhouetted against the sunlight shining in the window, she could tell that he was absolutely terrifying. He was so tall that she felt like an ant compared to him. Speaking of inspects, his massive tail resembled a centipede's, and he had jutted spikes all over his legs and arms. He wore a dark hood over his face and hair, so she wasn't able to make out his features at first. At first glance the man looked like a monster out of mythology, but Connla understood enough to know that he was as human as she was – that only served to make him even more frightening in her view.

He didn't say anything. He just kept his lips tightly shut while fixing his shining red eyes upon her. His expression was cold and terrifying to all who met him. Yet in that very moment, there seemed to be a hint of maudlinism that softened him up a bit. There was no way she would ever recognize it in her current state of mind though.

I have to… run fast… and… get out of here… I have to… escape… before he…

Over and over again, she commanded her legs to carry her out of here as quickly as possible. Her body refused to respond. She was rooted there in absolute fear over what the man did to her mother, and of what he could possibly do to her. If she did anything wrong, she would be lying on the ground as another bloody corpse…

"Are we done here?"

Connla squealed, her nerves jolting to life as if she had jumped out of her own skin. An unknown woman's voice broke the silence between child and killer. Before Connla knew it, a pink-haired lady dressed in white fur, a skirt and knee boots casually walked past her toward the man.

"Yeah," he responded dully. "She was weak now as she was back then. I have no idea what I was thinking, copulating with such a pathetic wino. If I could slaughter that immature self of mine, I'd do it in an instant to save myself the disgrace of sleeping with a bona fide harlot."

"Well, think of the small blessings in life," the lady giggled, hardly bothered by the bloody mess in front of her. "After all-"

She glanced at the panic-stricken Connla with a jubilant smile.

"-your daughter is a real cutie! Almost like a princess! I can't wait to doll her up and bring her to America for everyone to see! What did you say her name was?"

The killer replied evenly. "I told that wench to name the kid Connla, no matter if it was a boy or a girl."

That made the child lose her grip on any rational thought. The blood-soaked murderer knew who she was. He had come to murder Aife and do something to her. Kill her? Kidnap her? Torture her? Even if she ran away, would these two just find her again? Was she even fast enough to outrun that beast of a man? Her mind literally collapsed on itself like a weakened pillar, and she blacked out.

The last memory she had was of the man rushing up to her and snatching her head with his arm as she fell.

Six months later

Norfolk, Virginia, February 1783

A bitter cold wind howled through the port town, and a passing snowstorm sprinkled the ground and ocean with chilly white fluff. Despite these frigid conditions, a sailing vessel docked in the pier, and its sailors prepared to disembark. The ensign raised upon its mast was fully green save for the symbol of a golden harp in the center. This was the emblem of Ireland that existed from the 1550s until 1800, long before the modern tricolor motif was adopted as the national flag. In this world, the Celts carried the green flag during their earlier invasions of America's original 13 colonies, eventually decimating both American and British forces who dared to oppose them.

No longer was this country the location for historic battles and struggles between the Americans, the British, the Native Americans, or even Confederate versus Union anymore. The foundation behind the United States' past was rapidly crumbling thanks to the Celts asserting sudden dominance over the west. It only took half a year before they thoroughly eliminated any resistance and forced the surviving Americans out west to unfamiliar territories.

Now it was approaching the late winter days of 1783. The ship, bound from Ireland, took a month to sail the Atlantic Ocean before reaching its destination in Virginia. Although it was cold and the waters were tumultuous at times, the trip was otherwise uneventful. Today was an especially auspicious day for the Celts because the boat carried an important guest for them to greet. Once the sailors made anchor, they hurried along to unload barrels and wooden boxes full of cargo.

Meanwhile, two men on horses awaited the arrival of their guest. One man had long blonde hair and wore silver armor, while the other had messy black hair with a lock over his forehead, and he wore a green bodysuit beneath a surcoat. The blonde-haired fellow glanced at his partner and grinned, "We finally get to meet the rumored Celtic Princess that everyone's been talking about."

"Yes, this certainly is a day to be remembered," the other man replied. "This will go down in history as the young lady's very first welcome to these lands. Since she is expected to rule the new nation that the king and queen will create, she will have much to do in the way of restoring order from the chaos they leave behind."

"I knew you would be eager to escort her to the White House. After all, you always did have a soft spot for the ladies. Isn't that right, Diarmuid?"

The black-haired man objected profusely, "That's not true at all! Besides, it's always the other way around! I'm only here to act as the princess' guard! Don't misconstrue the situation, Lord Fionn!"

"Heh heh heh! I'm just kidding! I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. The princess just had her seventh birthday, so she's much too young to be falling for older men like us."

"Geez… But still, I was really surprised when the king announced that his successor existed. Who would've imagined that such a beast of a man would have had children, given his indifferent attitude towards everyone?"

"I don't really know the details," Fionn muttered, then shrugged. "It's better not to know, to be honest."

"Agreed. Oh, here she comes!"

Diarmuid and Fionn dismounted their steeds and walked up to the platform, where they saw a delegation of Celtic soldiers guiding a purple-haired girl. She wore a long white dress with a green mantle over one shoulder, and a pine green tabard emblazoned with the same golden harp as the one on the flag. Her gaze seemed languid and her expression dispassionate.

"Lord Fionn, Sir Diarmuid, the princess is ready for you," a druid announced and passed her off to them.

"Good work," Fionn dismissed them, then kneeled in front of the child and said, "So you're Connla, the rumored Child of Cuchulainn? Welcome to America, the land of opportunity and promise."

Diarmuid handed her a bouquet of flowers and said, "Congratulations on your seventh birthday. I heard it happened while you were en route here, so I've asked the servants to prepare you something special."

Connla didn't say anything. She stared at the arrangement of red roses, white lilies and ultramarine delphiniums, hoping that the vibrant colors would give her some escape from this bleak, snowy afternoon.

"Are you all right?" Fionn asked, noticing her dispirited countenance.

"Y-Yes, I am," she finally answered in a meek whisper. "I'm just… kind of tired."

"No wonder. You must have had a long journey. The king wanted you to arrive as soon as possible, so we should get going now."

Diarmuid allowed her to get on his horse first before mounting it behind her. The knights proceeded to escort her towards the captured White House, where the king and queen of the Celts had established their throne early in their conquest. Along the way, Diarmuid said to Connla, "I wanted to ask you something. From what I understand, the king made his announcement about you six months ago, but prior to that, there was never any mention of you. What happened? How did he come to have you without telling anyone until now?"

"Well…" Connla murmured. "I was living in Scotland with my mother Aife. She refused to tell me anything about my father, and was very harsh and strict with me. It was just the two of us for a long time. Then all of a sudden, I came home to find Mother dead by the hands of a complete stranger wielding a terrifying spear. I fainted when I saw him, so I think he took me to Connacht while I was unconscious.

"After I woke up, Queen Medb told me everything. That man was my father Cuchulainn… Or rather, a twisted version of him that she used the Holy Grail to wish into existence as a king. I'm not really sure how she obtained the Grail, but she and Father have been relying on its powers to overthrow western Europe so there would be no resistance against them when they turned their attention to the new continent. Father must have heard about me being alive in this period and hunted Mother down so he could take me back to Ireland."

"Even if it is our king we're talking about, killing Aife in front of you was too much," Fionn frowned. "I can't say I'm surprised though, given the state that he's been summoned in. He'll destroy even the gods if they dare to defy him."

Connla lowered her head and sighed despondently. Diarmuid noticed this and asked her, "How do you feel about all of this?"

"… What does it matter?"

"Come now, you mustn't say that."

"But it's true. Father is too violent to listen to anyone. I've heard that he'll even ignore Queen Medb at times. If I say anything to upset him, either directly or through word of mouth, he'll murder me without a second thought."

"That's not true! You don't know how much Cuchulainn has been waiting with bated breath for your arrival! Perhaps with you around, his murderous cravings might be quelled enough that he won't turn on his own soldiers anymore."

"What's the point?" Connla moaned. "Queen Medb will just create more minions to replace them anyway. It doesn't matter if I'm his daughter – if he sees me as the enemy, I'm as good as dead. It wouldn't surprise me if the queen creates a duplicate of me after Father kills me over some trivial thing. They should've just done that in the first place and left me alone in Scotland."

"Princess…" Diarmuid whispered.

"Cuchulainn wouldn't have done that," Fionn retorted sharply. "We all know how rapidly this world has been incinerated over the past few years. Little by little, everything is turning into a pure white wasteland that cannot support life. I believe he was in a hurry to find you because the incineration had already claimed all but western Europe and North America."

"Incinerated, huh?" Connla muttered under her breath and looked up at the sky. Constantly looming over the world was a mysterious, gigantic halo of light. It resembled a solar eclipse, with a tremendous moon positioned in front of a sun that was so intensely bright that it would affect even a truly blind person. She could tell that it was not a thing of beauty to be admired, but rather an unnatural phenomenon that was to be greatly feared. Whatever it was, it first appeared around the time Connla was born, and scholars across the world agreed that this halo's existence was the reason why the planet was dying.

Even if Father and Queen Medb succeed in taking this country for the Celts, is there going to be a way to survive the imminent destruction?

Fionn saw her forlorn expression and assured, "Don't worry. I'm sure they have some kind of plan to allow this nation to conquer even the incineration. Cuchulainn wouldn't bother naming a successor if he didn't."

"Hm…"

They eventually reached the White House and left the horses in their stables. Fionn and Diarmuid escorted Connla up the steps leading to the front entrance, which was stationed with a perfect lineup of Celtic soldiers to greet their princess. The building's exterior had been repurposed so that instead of patriotic American symbols, there were instead effigies of dragons and monsters. They first came into the Diplomatic Reception Room, where more soldiers and servants bowed at her, then the knights escorted her upstairs to the Entrance Hall and took her to the East Room, where the banquet hall was located.

The two knights opened the double doors and beckoned her to enter. It was already a pell-mell of merry laughter and celebration, with Queen Medb sitting at the head of the banquet table entertaining several of the Celts' higher ranking soldiers and Servants. The long tables were crammed with extravagant platters of expensive food, alcohol and wines that Connla had never seen before. She looked around vapidly at the people gathered for the meal. One man was particularly muscular and always had his eyes closed, another brute fellow was covered from head to toe in nasty scars, and a dark-skinned man who wore white clothes quietly sipped his glass of wine.

Once Medb saw Connla, she yelped in pure joy and ran up to the timid child, exclaiming, "Oh, there you are, Connie! I was getting worried about you!"

"It's… been a while, madam…" Connla mumbled. "Is there something special going on?"

"Don't be silly, sweetie. It's your birthday, remember? Plus, it's your first day in a brand new land. Such a historic occasion should be celebrated as much as possible! Come on, take your seat here."

The queen took the child's hand and guided her to an empty seat, where a couple of maids prepared a plate of food for their important guest. Connla sat down, but wasn't eager to start eating. She was extremely nervous from all of the noise that the party was causing. She had never been to anything so loud and rambunctious back when she lived in the mountains.

Diarmuid noticed her hesitation and asked, "Are you not feeling well, Princess?"

"I'm fine."

She forced herself to take the fork and eat some duck meat to show him that there was nothing wrong. As she ate, she looked around at everyone as they chatted amongst themselves, some looking more drunk than others. For being the guest of honor, she realized that not many people were paying attention to her, but she wasn't going to complain. Unlike most European cultures, the Celts were not so strict about being formal around their royalty, so she already had an idea that it would be this way. Besides, Connla didn't really feel like she belonged in such a high class setting anyway.

About half an hour later, one of the attendants approached Medb and announced, "The king has arrived."

Medb gasped happily and looked back to see the lethargic Cuchulainn walk toward the tables. The jubilant queen ran up to him and exclaimed, "Good evening, my liege. As you can see, the festivities are already underway. I tried to stop them from eating before you woke up, but they wouldn't listen to me. Can you believe it?"

He ignored her and panned his eyes along the room until he caught sight of Connla. She too met his gaze for a moment, then immediately averted her eyes and nervously stared at her hands on her lap.

"Well, at least you're in time for Connie to blow out her candles," Medb said and returned to her seat, ordering the servants to bring out an extravagantly decorated cake. Seven candles flickered on top, and the child's blank eyes were transfixed on their light.

Before anyone could say or do anything, Cuchulainn silently approached her and kneeled next to her. In his hand was a small box that he opened, revealing a golden ring with red markings. He took her right hand and nestled the band upon the thumb, since it was the only finger large enough to wear it. He murmured, "Your mother was supposed to give this to you when you came of age, as the symbol of a promise for you to journey to Ireland and meet me. The world's incineration forced me to look for you early though, so now this will serve as your proof of lineage. As of now, you are the Celtic Princess who will succeed me and revive this nation from the ashes that my conquest will leave behind."

"…"

"Think of it as a birthday present as well," he muttered bitterly, then grinned, "This must be the first time you've ever gotten something nice."

"… Um."

"Hm?"

"Can I… ask you something?"

"What is it?"

Connla looked at the tiered white cake, all decorated in green, white and yellow candy flowers, and prettied up with frosting bows that could be mistaken for real silk ribbons. She looked at all of the food, guests and servants who had their collective attention focused on her. She looked at Cuchulainn and Medb as they eagerly awaited to answer her question. After a frightfully long pause, she finally murmured something:

"What's a birthday?"

Cuchulainn's eyes widened. Medb's exuberant smile disappeared immediately. A piercing chill hit everyone else in the core. The jovial atmosphere was gone, replaced with bitter silence. Connla's vapid expression was made more eerie by the flickering candles illuminating her cheeks in the darkness. The king wasn't sure how to respond to her disturbing question, other than to sigh and stand back up.

"… Diarmuid," he commanded the Fianna knight.

"Sire," he stood at attention.

"Connla's exhausted. Show her to her room and prepare her for bed."

"At once."

The black-haired warrior took the girl's hand and had her follow him through the White House until they reached her assigned quarters. Back in the dining hall, Medb grumbled, "Oh, what a waste. We had this whole thing ready for her, and she didn't even know what we were celebrating."

"Aife is to blame," Cuchulainn scowled. "She completely denied that child the right to live as a human being."

"How distasteful. Such ignorance is hardly befitting of the next queen in line. I will have to arrange for that repugnant vixen's hatred to be completely wiped clean from Connie's memory so that she can be fashioned into appropriate royalty. Before you know it, she will become the perfect Celtic Princess that our forces will fight hard for. We will destroy everything and everyone that opposes us, then have Connie plant the new seeds for a bright future where we Celts rule everything."

"…"

"Isn't that right, Cu?"

"Be quiet. I'm aching to kill something right now."

"Another hunt so soon?" Medb smiled.

"Yeah. I think I'll go destroy some Resistance hideouts or something."

Cuchulainn summoned Gae Bolg in his hand and departed the White House for his evening prowl. His urge to murder someone, anyone, reached a boiling point upon realizing just how badly deprived Connla was of love and nurturing this whole time. Here he was running around doing whatever the hell he wanted, while she was trapped beneath Aife's oppressive foot this whole time. The only way this twisted version of Cuchulainn could dispel his self-hatred for neglecting Connla was to slaughter some enemies, lest he wind up turning on his own allies to satisfy his barbaric cravings. The last thing he wanted was for her to witness more death and bloodshed by his hands.