As sad it was, Shishigou Kairi is officially the first person to actually believe in her. Nothing about Magi impressed her but with one look, Kairi was clearly made of a strong constitution from long years of field experience and lived without the usual grandiosity.
He was made of steel.
It just made her want to see if she could rescue him from the belly's beast.
Dawn came in a great ball of pink and orange flames racing across the sky. She yawned, having stayed up waiting for it, sitting on top of a roof. Wasn't like there was an adult to come running just to yell at her to get off.
"Act like a proper knight. Don't you want to be held to the esteemed standard of Sir Lancelot and Sir Bedivere?" Mordred grumbled to herself. "Knights don't act like delinquents. Knights stand aloof and off to the side while Father delivers orders to be swiftly carried out." She grabbed her face and slowly dragged it over and down. "Maybe I want to set a new standard."
"Set a standard for what?" a cocky voice came from down under.
As she was dragged deeper into her thoughts, with nothing to thrash against, she didn't care if the other Red Servants approached her finally. She was dying to do anything with anything except for Semiramis, Shakespeare, or Shirou.
...that was strangely alliterative. Maybe all those S's stood for sinister.
"For my brand of chivalry," Mordred replied in a tone that brooked no arguments and leapt off the roof, joining them. She almost did a double-take. Karna was accompanied by who must be Achilles and Atalanta.
But he stood off to the side, arms crossed. And still decked out in that golden armor of his. Mordred hadn't worn her armor since she arrived and it made her uneasy just because she didn't have any other measures of defenses. Her comfort was chief in this situation. He nodded his head at her, calm and respectful. She did not like the sudden opinion that tried to change against the one in the church.
Sighing, Mordred turned her attention to the other man, the one who spoke to her. Taller than the three of them, green hair cut in an odd fashion, he possessed a stronger and thicker build than Karna. Where Achilles's clothing had obvious Classical influences, Atalanta's dress—cat ears. Cat tail.
A lion, she corrected herself immediately. In Camelot, lions were reserved to the nobility. A proud animal with an even prouder mane, it was an apt symbol of the powerful. Mordred wanted Atalanta to like her now.
It might be literal proof, that without a doubt, she is a true king. The other was that her ears and tail were fluffy. She couldn't care less about what the other Servants thought of her now.
Atalanta blinked languidly like the awesome cat she was.
"Lion, right?"
"Yes." Thankfully, Atalanta didn't seem irritated by Mordred's blatant curiosity.
"I thought 'cat' was good enough for you," Achilles looked at her.
She rolled her eyes.
"Atalanta's pretty cool. She's a cat." Mordred said, as if they didn't need to hear her reasoning and they didn't.
"You mean kitten," Achilles interjected, smug.
"I'm a lion, thank you very much." Atalanta smacked his shoulder.
"Same thing." he brushed invisible dust off where Atalanta smacked it, and continued before she could retort: "Say, Saber...you interested in a quick spar?"
"Yes." she said instantly as Atalanta and Karna gave Achilles varying looks of incredulity.
Achilles grinned.
She wasn't sure how long the fight lasted. His Agility surpassed her by leaps and bounds out of her range and into her face when she couldn't react. But she ended up on a knee with Achilles hurled into the water. It had ended up becoming a long scrap, with too many hits and not enough blood, that Atalanta wandered off to hunt and came back with a deer for Karna to roast while Achilles and Mordred finished up. She expected something like this: same Endurance, same Strength.
The only question was, who had the stronger will?
But I won't get an answer for a while. She winced and stood up, leg wobbling from thinning adrenaline.
"I'll admit: that title of yours might not be so great after all, but you're worthy enough, to me, to spar without hesitating." Achilles shook out the water from his soggy clothes, torn scarf mending itself before smirking at her good-naturedly.
"Your ass was calling for me to kick it." Mordred stretched her lightly-bruised arms carefully.
At one point, she snagged it with her foot and delivered a merciless barrage of blows that didn't even hurt him. But he acknowledged it, so it was fine for now.
"And it looks like you're not reliant on your weaponry to have a good time." She gave a fearless grin.
"Looking forward to more spars, if there's free time in-between the skirmishes." Achilles held a hand out for her. "Well, I'm overly experienced with waiting."
She smacked it with her hand and he had puzzlement etched into his face but it lifted as soon as she started talking. Mordred wasn't sure how to react about it. It was her way of showing thanks. Nothing wrong with that.
"Hold on. You headbutted me, so I should only return the favor right?" Mordred thought Achilles to be a worthy ally, rival even, as he should be, as one of the world's ten famous heroes. And he felt like a guy who didn't like manipulations, if she remembered The Iliad correctly.
That was all she needed.
"I'm fine with that. But don't be annoyed since we spar—"
She snatched Achilles down to her height using his collar and bashed her head against his. "That was just to showcase my strength and—eh?!"
Mordred fucked up. Achilles had stumbled back with a pained grunt holding his broken nose. While it wasn't a clean break, it wasn't too messy either. But blood continued to flow like a slowly-melting river.
Karna hopped off the bench and pulled him closer to examine it, ignoring his flailing. She felt uncomfortable. Just when she had been about to make a friend for once through the common interest of beating each other to pulp, she went ahead and ruined it. Again.
"Andreias Amarantos." Atalanta came up behind her. "It is how his near-immortality appears in the Holy Grail War."
I fucked uppppppp.
"There's a loophole—" Karna stopped Achilles from mumbling further by snapping it back into place, releasing his chin since he hadn't stopped squirming. She couldn't help thinking, dumbass.
"While his body is protected from attacks, it does not include acts that display 'friendship'."
Oh. So she hadn't fucked up yet. Well. Good to know she didn't have to be rebuffed after a mistake.
"Saber." Karna turned around as Achilles gingerly poked his nose only to wince. Atalanta stalked over to him and pushed him off to the side, ignoring the snort he made. "What you did just now, was the latter."
"Oh."
Karna eyed her for a long time before continuing. "I believe that because of your disdain for your armor, and the way you were brought up in Britain, you had gained a disliking for prolonged physical contact. Perhaps you might express such affection or friendly acts through shows of force. Do you honestly believe that your strength is the only commodity that others value? In short, you need to present yourself as the strongest to protect your precious people. And that is why Achilles's defensive Noble Phantasm didn't protect him."
Mordred was left flabbergasted. A part of her wanted to murder him for uncovering the deep-seated trauma of being Morgan's son and the other wanted to find a hole to crawl into and figure out why she was like this. A third felt like shutting everything out till she could settle the rising emotions.
"Wow." Achilles started. "We need to work on that whole, 'mince your words', Karna."
He sighed. "And that is how you shook off the parts that were too much for you in the Trojan War."
Achilles inhaled and narrowed his eyes, offended. "How about we spar when you come back." No doubt that was a statement.
As they bickered lightly, Atalanta approached her, unaware of how Mordred's insides became stew from Karna's piercing words.
Before Atalanta was about to say something, Karna blinked and abruptly strode off after muttering something to Achilles.
"...the priest called for him," Achilles said with no small amount of distaste as the Lancer vanished by spirit form.
"Great." I pity him.
"Speaking of which, this is a perfect occasion to bring up an offer. I believe it's a little more than obvious that we prefer it if you'd join with us." Atalanta handed her a juicy piece of meat.
She vaguely heard Atalanta's words. Her mouth watered as she bit into it, mumbling a quick "Thanks". Swallowing the rest of it down, she answered the Archer's question.
"Yeah, yeah. So this group would have the advantage in numbers—wait, Spartacus is gone right?"
Atalanta nodded.
"Huh, that's what I thought. And I'm the Saber-Class Servant to boot with." Good thing I hadn't been a Berserker on summoning.
"So how 'bout it Saber?" Achilles said, suddenly staring at her with such calmness that belied the hilarity of his broken nose.
She. Would. Not. Laugh. And ruin her image.
But the invitation needed to be addressed, she thought, and covered her mouth under the pretense of wiping blood from the meat she devoured under a few seconds. Damn. She might have to find more food for recovering a little bit of the mana used.
Well, they hadn't pissed her off by calling her a girl. Yet. Any allies are better than none. Wasn't like I had friends all around me, in Camelot.
"Mordred," she said finally. "I'd rather you call me that than 'Knight of Treachery' and 'Saber' or any of that crap."
Achilles grinned and raised his head in acknowledgement. "That's your name, I understand. But you're fine with Lion King—"
"That remains to be seen. But calling me 'king' is acceptable."
He snorted but wandered over to where Atalanta's kill was kept warm by a fire. The Archer in question took her turn by walking to her, like a predator in grassfields.
"Welcome, Mordred," Atalanta touched her shoulder lightly.
Her heart skipped a beat. What is this. And why do I want more.
But Achilles had something to stay still.
"I do have a question for you, Saber." Achilles's hawk-like eyes met her fierce leonine ones, as he returned with his own serving.
"...go ahead."
"—Listen, you have to tell us everything you know about the priest, and what happened before Karna came to receive his orders." Atalanta intervened smoothly in a gentle voice.
"Do you mind saying that again? I loved the warm tone you used."
"I did as well, which is why I'm not fussy about you interrupting."
"Kotomine ended up taking my Master to some place and then he never came back." Mordred said before they could get into an argument.
Karna's return was inopportune. "You sound as if he's personally victimized you beyond that." He observed. "Or you tend to rile up easily."
"Does he do that often?" she demanded.
"Yes." Achilles and Atalanta chorused.
The four Servants then jumped into the meat of the situation about what to do with Kotomine Shirou. Achilles and Mordred advocated for death threats and finding their Masters, while Karna remained concerned about his own Master's safety in the process, and Atalanta just wanted her wish to be granted.
Mordred hadn't particularly cared about Atalanta's wish because she hadn't specified what exactly it was, but the woman was so nice, so she tried to put on some optimistic tones in her voice.
"By the way, we had been calling ourselves Team AKA, since no one else seemed to care—"
"—You only care about it." Karna interrupted dispassionately. But a tiny smile appeared as he nodded at Mordred, probably about how she joined the fold.
Feeling somewhat inadequate under his gaze, she hesitantly grinned back.
"—Agreed." Atalanta tore a generous strip off her slab of meat.
Achilles slapped his face. Mordred pondered the team name.
"Let me guess. The first 'A' is Achilles? Hmph, as the youngest Heroic Spirit here, shouldn't you be generous to your junior and give up the first slot to me?"
His shit-eating grin met her fearless smirk.
"Then come here and tell me that again. Preferably in my face."
"Oh, I'll tell you in your face all right."
—
Achilles ended up leaving a few minutes after he and Mordred had a pissing contest over whose name got to be in front. Apparently, it was not a relevant subject when Karna came back with intel.
"I'm somewhat intrigued by this play Caster gave me," he admitted and waved a copy of Troilus and Cressida at them. "You guys can kill Assassin of Black without my help. Besides, I want to know why he thought it'd be a good idea to do something like this." The last part was muttered and Karna elaborated, picking right off when he stopped.
"Caster has proven himself to be a man of many vices. But one of the highest vices he displays is his love for drama. Even in life, I suppose, he has a tendency for tragedies."
"Then his Noble Phantasm is something related to it." Mordred concluded. Heroic Spirits' Noble Phantasms related to their greatest feats and there were few exceptions.
Karna nodded. "I advise you to avoid him whenever convenient."
"Already planned on it," she sighed. She might have to revise her opinion of the playwright if he ever showed it.
Meanwhile, Atalanta took away annoyance from Achilles's flippant excuse.
"Don't be ridiculous. I am perfectly capable of doing it myself." Atalanta raised an eyebrow.
"I don't doubt it."
"Then why will you continue to do what it is you did not a minute ago?"
"Because it's nice to witness and certify the stories I grew up hearing in my childhood."
Atalanta hesitated before smiling awkwardly. Achilles had no such reservations.
"What." Mordred stared while Karna gave her the details of what just happened. Not that she could understand it, for obvious reasons.
Karna had been given a weird card thing that was supposed to pay for whatever they did in town. Mordred was determined to abuse the hell out of it just to be petty. Their first order of business was to procure modern clothes.
Sighisoara's passing residents gave her and Karna odd looks outside the biggest clothing story they found.
It was surprisingly nice to see Atalanta smiling at her as she absolutely did not run inside like an excited cat, whooping in exhilaration. It reminded her of a watchful figure—maybe a sister. Not that Mordred had anyone to compare Atalanta with. As for Karna, he stopped at the entrance to look over a pair of khaki pants. But that didn't matter; never had she seen so many clothes to pick!
A female clerk approached her as she stared in awe at the rack of the thick blue pants. Jeans, the Grail's knowledge reminded her.
Mordred needed them now.
"You guys cosplayers from the city?" The clerk asked. "Sighisoara's all about keeping that old-fashioned look, so I guess we attract that kind of crowd. Think the architecture's too modern, though, for that knight look you're going with."
"Yep." Mordred said, distracted, still staring at the immense selection. She had no idea where to start. "The man in red and black's with me." That was probably something she should ask of her.
"Dude's got a nice cape." she hummed. "So you need help, or are you fine on that front?"
Mordred still couldn't tear herself away. "Uh—yes."
"Clothes get stolen?" She expanded the selection and quickly asked: "What colors you like?"
"Dark blues. And you could say that." She liked the idea of this calm small talk, unlike mundane things like the weather. At least this had sustenance. And it was better than thinking about how it felt normal. Like she belonged here.
With deft hands, she pulled out three pairs. "Know what shirts you want to go for?"
"I'm not familiar with the fashion here." Mordred's eyes remained glued to the jeans in her hands.
A faint chuckle came from Atalanta.
"At least I came in today so you'd get the newest." She moved on, beckoning for Mordred to follow. As a Servant, she caught a quiet remark, "There is harm in looking like a granny when you're not even twenty."
They chatted aimlessly through the clothes, and when something caught Mordred's eye, the clerk was patient enough to let her try it on. It took around ten, fifteen, more minutes to properly put together an attire for walking among the humans.
A red leather jacket, black and red checker plaid, black boots, and jeans. I have an overwhelming preference to red. As expected, my taste is perfect.
Atalanta's approval of nod sent a weird feeling through her heart. ...why does there need to be more reflections added to the pile?!
The clerk was gracious enough to let her wear it on the way out and she remembered at the last minute to come out with her red under armor clothes under an arm. Less questions, the better.
As they walked over to the cashier, her eye caught a stand.
The Grail might've granted her literacy but it hurt her eyes to read the overly-cursive Victoria's Secret. Ow.
Then an idea blossomed. Mordred became struck with a fiery vengeance for the team's name as she stared at the skimpy clothing. It seemed superfluous in its laces and colors but Achilles felt like that kind of guy, just for the attention it'd garner him.
"He needs it," Mordred whispered fervently. "Can we get him this?" she said to Atalanta.
Except a different response answered her. The Archer had been distracted by Karna's new attire. He came out from the dressing room wearing khaki pants, gray sneakers, and a red button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Snappy.
"That's lingerie. For women." The clerk paused.
Mordred stared.
"...so does your friend want it?"
"Rider will wear about anything." Karna came back with a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve. "Nor is he picky."
"Cool. More money." The clerk shrugged but added a black pair to the pile. Mordred couldn't wait to see the look on Achilles's face.
"Like that has stopped him before." Atalanta sighed to herself. Then she perked up, striding over to a floral skirt.
Mordred blinked.
"We'll take that skirt and a shirt of your choosing to go," Karna said.
Ten minutes later, Mordred, Karna, and Atalanta left the store, all satisfied.
"I will return after giving Achilles his set, but it will be almost upon dusk as I wish to speak with him." Atalanta nodded at them briefly. "If Assassin of Black appears before my return, then may the will of the hunt be with you two," she added and took her leave by scaling the nearest building, dashing across rooftops.
She sighed; she kinda didn't want to be with Karna, not with what happened at the church. He hadn't seemed or looked hostile since then but Mordred didn't know what went on in his mind. It was was just too damn stoic, in demeanor and face.
"I don't mind having spent time in the store, but was it completely necessary, when we are able to stand on guard out of Assassin of Black's range?"
Mordred preferred having her feet planted on the earth, and especially bonus points if she didn't have to don her armor. She hated spiritual form; it was like she'd disappear if a particularly strong gust was able to touch her.
Instead, she said, "A king must always look presentable. And I am the strongest knight to come out of Britain. It is even more imperative, so these clothes must not be unbecoming of me."
His calm gaze filled her with alarm and a little apprehension.
"If you are the strongest knight, then haven't you surpassed your father already?"
Too much confusion filtered through her face, eyes, and mouth—the latter through flurries of every curse word she learned from the knights when they thought no-one was listening. Karna didn't bat an eye, waiting for her to stop. Afterward, Mordred sagged as the winds left her falling sails, groaning.
"...okay. I think I'm done—but damn. I think you'd be a good therapist. But not like dropping an evaluation like that at once."
Karna squinted at her, doing that analyzing shit again. Mordred felt a headache coming on, from both this guy's obtuseness and the issue with Father. Rubbing her temples, ruminating over it can wait for later. When she was alone.
At this rate, I'm going to have to take a time out from the Grail War.
"I'm not lying."
"You are not." He agreed. "This is also a first for me. Many people, past and present, have expressed…that I am an idiot for doing so."
Somehow, he became even more pensive than she thought was possible.
She shrugged. "So just make it come off as softer. Let's go to the marketplace. If you're gonna brood over what I said, then I want to be eating something."
"Very well, if that is what you want," he said finally.
Yeah. Something I want, she thought in a bitter tone. All this sweeping up the hidden urchins in the tumultuous shallows called a heart needs to pause until she can become adjusted.
The marketplace was unremarkable in every aspect. Mordred just enjoyed the food with Karna close behind, a silent and watchful figure.
"This town is unbearably old-fashioned." She muttered to him, at the fountain, waiting for Atalanta.
"Suppose the city nearest to our battlefield is Bucharest, or anything akin to a properly modern city." Karna reached around her shoulder to take a fruit from her bag. He ignored her sharp look and low growl. "Aquariums, zoos, amusement parks, and so on. If Sighisoara or Trifas possessed anything of that ilk, you would become distracted by wanting to visit one during daytime instead of focusing on replenishing mana. In a town such as this, there is only the possibility of preparing for the War."
"He is correct. And there is the secrecy to think of. Though I would not mind visiting one of these aquariums you spoke of." Atalanta appeared in a discreet cloud of blue dust, wearing a skirt and a sleeveless blouse, ignoring Mordred's blank face.
"Fine, fine, there's that too." Mordred grumbled.
They made decent conversation for once, as the sun dipped closer.
But what was odd about what ensued next, was the dying light still caressing Sighisoara.
Mist flooded in like a dam breaking.
"Assassin of Black is truly a Servant with audacity." Atalanta stood up.
Cries for help started to ring out from every direction in Sighisoara. Mordred narrowed her eyes and formed Clarent and her armor in a burst of red sparks. Karna and Atalanta followed her lead.
"Does it seem likely that other Black Servants will choose to show up?" Karna said to Atalanta quietly.
"It is uncertain," she answered, "but it does not hurt to look for them."
The mist had now swallowed up their vision to the point where Mordred could barely see two feet in front of her.
She grinned, feeling the light of battle fill her body with eager anticipation. "Does it matter, though? God, I'm raring to go already!"
The hunt had begun.
