'ello, folks. I'm new to the Fate fandom, so apologies if I've done any incorrect characterization or portrayed certain concepts improperly. This is just a oneshot, though I am planning on writing a longer story, therefore any feedback is appreciated!
Prompt: I found out only a couple days ago that December 15th was Nero's birthday. Considering that was just under a week away, as well as Nero being one of my favorite Fate characters, ergo making some form of commemoration necessary, this naturally sent me into a state of panic, as I like to take my time with stories. However, seeing as I'm dreadful at drawing and most other creative exercises, I decided to try and somehow come up with something that might work in the time limit.
The brainstorming took up most of the time. I hadn't gotten very far into Fate/Extra (read as: hadn't started), and my other project isn't on the site yet, so writing with that in mind would be confusing for people to read. Eventually, this idea popped into my head - and I must have been in a very tired state when it did. Nonetheless, I decided to write it up, anyway. It's not my best work, but neither is it my worst, so that's something. It may prove amusing to some who read it, and maybe not to others.
As an added note, I'm still waiting on an artist's permission to use their art for this story's cover. So, for now, you get... a rift in the blackness of space, which happens to be my profile picture. Woo!
Yet another addendum: Good ol' Document Manager crashed four or five times, just while trying to write up the Author's Note, because Firefox and Chrome are having issues with FFN at the moment. Great timing on my part, right?
Enjoy! - Eldest Tempest
Emperor Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus was bored.
Boredom was something of the norm inside the Throne of Heroes, a stark contrast to the life Nero had led before her death. Her glorious city had bountiful amounts of entertainment for her to enjoy. Gladiators fighting to the death at the amphitheatre, chariot races, athletic contests, and of course, her beloved Domus Aurea.
The Throne of Heroes had none of that. An endless expanse of grass stretched out in all directions, underneath a permanently azure sky, with a mild accumulation of clouds. No, none of Rome's buildings were present here.
The pocket dimension was, in a word, droll.
It didn't help that most, if not all, of the Heroic Spirits wanted nothing to do with the so-called 'Whore of Babylon'. Her reputation as a tyrant apparently preceded her. She wondered briefly just how the details of her reign were worded by historians. Alas, it seemed as though nobody had recorded the positive events in her reign.
To send her spirits spiraling further downwards into ennui, the day was December 15th. The day her mother Agrippina brought her into the world. Nero scowled at the memory of her mother, and further at the lack of anything to commemorate the day. It should have been greeted with a blast of trumpets and a glorious parade stretching throughout the land. That was the Roman way. Her only salutation was a light breeze that whistled by, causing the grass to sway in the wind.
This was insulting to her stature. She was a daughter of Rome, gods damn it. She would not allow things to remain like this. If the Throne of Heroes were one of her subjects, she would order it to recompense her for this insult. Yet, it wasn't… was it?
Nero withdrew her sword, Aestus Estus, from its sheath, and directed it to face the sky.
"As the emperor of Rome, I command you! Bring forth some entertainment!"
The eternally clear sky stared silently down at the irate emperor, speaking not a single word. And, how could it? Nero thought to herself with annoyance. It was, after all, just the sky.
So, the Throne of Heroes had no intention of doing anything whatsoever. Not a single gift had arrived for her either, not from a Heroic Spirit or any of her subjects. Nero slowly lowered her sword, blowing at a strand of hair dangling in front of her vision.
Well, then, there was only one course of action remaining. She would have to make her own entertainment. Yet all that expanded before her was that endless sea of grass. Her jaw set in determination. There had to be something else, something to do. No, she willed forthere to be something else. The Emperor's words were law. If she decided something entertaining existed in this desolate plane, then by the gods throned above, there would be something. She strode off in a random direction, full of resolve to find whatever it was that could be found.
That resolve crumbled after a couple of hours. The horizon still lay beyond her as a wall of emptiness. The sun beat down upon her. Her feet dragged across the ground. Nero's eyes were on that thrice accursed greenery, which stayed the same through hours of plodding along. It was maddening. Just a couple more steps and you'll find something, she kept telling herself. Yet as time wore on, she was beginning to seriously doubt that train of thought.
Had she set off in the wrong direction? It was possible. She hadn't even seen a single Heroic Spirit, which was something she found particularly odd. Surely somebody would have taken the opportunity to gloat by now?
So lost in thought was she, that she hadn't noticed the sun relenting from its assault. Nor the sudden change in terrain. It wasn't until her foot caught on a root and formally introduced her face to the ground that Nero discovered she was outside that wasteland. Indeed, as she got up from off the ground and brushed the dirt off her personage, she found that she was in a forest. Her feet had somehow managed to lead her onto a dirt trail that seemed to stretch to… Jupiter knows where.
Nero arched a brow at her surroundings, thoroughly confused about the scenery adjustment. Moments ago, she had been traversing the endless stretch of emptiness, and now…
Was this the work of the Throne of Heroes? Nothing else seemed probable, yet she wondered why it had caused this. Earlier, it was perfectly content with keeping her in a melancholy mood. Was this pity, then? Did the Throne of Heroes even have pity?
She glanced behind her, expecting to see the open area she had left, only to see a solid wall of foliage, and beyond that, darkness. Harrumphing, she turned her head back to look at the path before her. There was only way before her, and so, pushing her philosophical musings about the Throne of Heroes out of her mind, pressed onward.
After trekking for some time through the wood, Nero came upon the mouth of a cave. Once again, she was baffled by the aberrant shifts of her environment. Just what sort of game was being played here? Whatever it was, she hoped there was something worthwhile at the end. When she had asked for entertainment, she did not mean at her own expense.
Grumbling to herself, and growing increasingly perturbed of the day's events, she journeyed into the cavern. She was thereupon completely caught off guard by what lay inside.
There, on a pedestal, situated magnificently, as though it was crafted by the gods themselves… was a cake. Nero's train of thought abruptly derailed, crashed, and exploded into a fiery wreck of death and destruction from sheer surprise. Today had been a strange day indeed, but this? This took the cake, pun notwithstanding.
"Wh.. What…" Nero began, stammering from sheer astonishment. Then, she balled her right hand into a fist and shook it at the cavern ceiling. "What sort of mockery is this?! I will not be ridiculed by your twisted consciousness! I am Caesar!"
She huffed, letting the hand drop to her side. The cake stayed where it was. Nero took a few steps towards it, staring sharply at the dessert that lay before. Predictably, the cake made no movement. She noticed a fork sticking out of it, which she was fairly certain had not been there before. She also espied some strawberries.
Curses, how did it know her favorite fruit?! Her eyes narrowed at the cake, which maintained its idle position. Muttering something about the Fates and their warped sense of destiny, Nero planted Aestus Estus on the ground and picked up the plate the cake was situated on. Removing the fork from its resting place, she carved a piece of the cake off and put it in her mouth.
It was a serious contender for the best idea she'd had, ranking somewhere between opening her theatre and having Agrippina executed. The cake was fantastic. No, there was not a word in the mortal languages of men that could describe its taste. Ambrosia, the food of the gods, came closest to it. If Jupiter himself descended from his clouds above, and demanded the cake, his path would be barred by Aestus Estus. This cake, it transcended beauty. It was… precious to her.
Her precious…
She began to eat more of the cake, savoring its flavor. In short time, the cake had been devoured, leaving no trace of its existence behind. Nero sat down on the cave floor, back against the pedestal.
Yes, she thought to herself, today had been a good day, indeed. One day, one day, she would find more of this cake that had enthralled her so.
Closing her eyes, she glanced skyward up at the ceiling, smiling contentedly.
The magus finished his chanting, a blue glow enveloping the room he was in. It subsided quickly, and in its place, standing on the summoning circle, was a blonde woman of somewhat short stature in an elegant red dress. In her left hand, she carried a massive red sword. The magus was awestruck by his Servant. This Servant, she radiated pure power. None of the other Masters would be able to stand up to them!
"I ask of thee," His Servant questioned, turning around to stare at him with her emerald eyes. "Have you any cake?"
Her Master passed out from sheer shock.