Disclaimer: the character of King Arthur / Arthuria Pendragon is merely borrowed from Type-Moon's Fate / Stay Night. The rest are derived from Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur.

Chapter 1 – The Curse and the Quest

"Alaith lanain carach ektros,

garod ancalor, danas maithe!"

It was a woman's voice. Swathed in a great black robe, face covered by an emotionless golden mask, the witch poured a colorless potion from a crystal vial into a large water-filled cauldron. A deathly green light emanated from the depths of the cauldron after the steam cleared and the hissing ceased. The witch continued her chant:

"From the Shadows I call thee back

I summon the power of Magic Black

From my womb let a child spring

And set him against Arthur King."

An image began to form on the surface of the green mixture: a knight he seemed, golden-haired, with shining emerald eyes, and with a bold, stern gaze. But after a moment the contents of the cauldron boiled, distorting the figure of the knight. Great bubbles issued forth – and burst into fresh red blood…

"NO!"

King Arthur awoke with a start; his yellow locks swaying uneasily as his bright green eyes darted across the expanse of darkness surrounding him. The sight of a red dragon upon a white field hanging on the walls greeted him: it was his standard, the very same that his father King Uther once bore. Had he…

"MY KING!" a knight had opened the door with such great force; the bright light of evening candles quickly diffused into the king's chambers such that Arthur was momentarily blinded. "Are you alright?"

Had I been screaming again? wondered the king.

"I had a dream… no… a vision…"

The knights were gathered inside the great hall of Camelot. Its walls were adorned by rich tapestries depicting victories against the rebel kinglets, the Saxons, the Irish, and even the Romans, and here and there the flag of the king fluttered in its majesty. But the centerpiece of the hall was the Round Table, around which the high men of Camelot sat, their swords laid much like rays radiating from the disk at the Table's center. One character was standing, wearing steel-plated armor over a cerulean garment. He was none other than King Arthur.

"My sister, Morgana, is planning an evil stroke against Camelot," he proclaimed. The knights stirred uneasily upon the mention of Morgana, the king's half-sister and an evil witch.

"Are you sure of this, my lord?" asked a knight two seats to Arthur's left.

"Indeed. I am sure of this."

More dark mutterings ensued. Was it also not Morgana who induced Sir Accolon to kill the king? She would have succeeded had the Lady of the Lake herself not intervened and saved Arthur from certain death.

"What are we to do?"

The king clenched his steel fists; his eyes were sharp and bright as fire-tempered blades.

"We might have no other choice … but to attack at once."

The Knights of the Round Table once again took counsel with each other. Another attack? Indeed an offensive is a good defense for the kingdom, if they were sudden in assaulting Morgana's stronghold in the Lost Forest. But they had just ended a grueling war in Gaul! Had they not heard of the clamoring of the people behind the king's back? "Peace! Peace!" they cried out. "Since Arthur became king we never had peace. Another war will ruin us. We must have peace, even if it means pulling King Arthur down. Peace!"

Peace! Peace indeed!

But the Round Table was stilled – a strange apparition manifested itself at the Table's center. For a moment the nobility of Camelot perceived only a fierce light; their gaze could not withstand its blinding brightness. But after a moment the light subsided a little; in its midst was a most beautiful cup: it was as pristine as diamond, and upon it were set sapphires and rubies and emeralds as well as many more precious gems, and carved upon the cup, with letters finer than the finest brushstroke (and yet plain for all to see), were these lines:

Seek ye for mine power if thou art pure

And thy one wish shalt be granted sure.

And then the light and the cup were gone.

The king was deep in his thoughts. Could it be –?

"That is it! That is the answer: the Holy Grail!"

The other knights were astounded. "The Holy Grail?" they asked among themselves. The king reacted differently, however. "What do you mean, Sir Perceval?" he exclaimed, spinning quickly to face the long-haired knight with far-seeing eyes.

"My lord," answered Sir Perceval, "legends claim that the Holy Grail, which resides inside castle Corbenic, can fulfill the heart's desire of its finder. If one pure enough can find it –"

"Then I shall find it!" cried a knight in crimson armor; he was Sir Gawain, whose pale hair was tied into a high not, and whose sharp eyes would pierce every single person who met his stare. "By my oath as a knight, I shall search for the Grail, and I shall wish for the undoing of Morgana's plot!"

Most of the knights then followed Sir Gawain: Sir Bors, Sir Lionel, and Sir Perceval himself was among those who swore to find the Grail. And then –

"And I shall go as well, my lord, by life or by death," spoke the knight next to the king.

He was of fair constitution, Sir Lancelot – he who was considered the one of greatest of the Round Table, whose skill was rivaled only by Sir Gawain and by King Arthur himself. Lancelot had flowing ebony locks, luminous night-black eyes, and a splendid suit of armor not unlike the king's own. And his face! It was beautiful, yet, for reasons the knights knew not, sad.

The king closed his eyes for an instant before fixing his green eyes at Sir Lancelot's black ones. "Are you sure of this, Sir Lancelot?" he said in a quiet but firm voice – it was the voice which knights had heard King Arthur use whenever he was in a grim, stern mood. "Your oath will hold you bound: you must find the Grail – or die. There would be no turning back."

"Yes, I am sure, my lord," answered the great knight, bowing his head low.

"Then so be it." Turning to address all the knights, King Arthur announced in a strong, commanding voice:

"Arise, the, all ye who wouldst venture

To find the Grail at its holy ground;

By oaths ye have sworn, the quest endure:

Sally forth, Knights of the Table Round!"