Author's notes: Apologies for lack of updates.My formating's messy because of my Chinese version of MS word. This chapter is substantially darker. And after reading a few of the most excellent pieces of fanfiction I've seen, I felt the urge to write a bit more. (This one's a tad bit long). Extra-special thank yous go to Yuurei-san who remains the most awesome peer editor anyone can ever ask for. Thank you for reading. You have no idea how much the clicks warm a poor student's heart.
Ok. That was cheesy AND BAD. Anyways...

If you've any questions, comments, or rude remarks feel free to leave them in the Review and/or E-mail. I'll be answering them periodically in "John Locke's Corner," or basically in-character explanations from my little Ex Deux Machina.

P.S. Kudos goes to whoever figures out my poor imitation and reference to a very excellent English author. All copyrighted characters belong to their respective owners.


I see…absolutely nothing.

Shiro blinked. He realized that he was immersed in darkness, probably in a cave of some sort. As his eyes adjusted to the shadows, he began to make out details – stalactites hanging off the low ceilings and smooth, gray stone biers on the floor as the cavern were illuminated by a single source. Excalibur glowed with a comforting aura as Saber stepped next to him, a somber expression on her petite face.

"This is the sepulcher Karste. My final resting place. Supposedly the isle of Avalon was accessed from here."

"So…we're in your …grave?" Ask Shiro hesitantly, not sure what to say.

"Correct. Maste-" Saber's visage lightened up for a brief moment as she corrected herself mid-sentence. "-Shiro. I was laid to rest here after my spirit made its final pact during the battle of Camlann."

Holding Excalibur out in front of her, Saber trotted ahead, with Shiro in tow.

"The cave itself holds many secrets – all the great legends of Britain are laid to rest here. We're in what is considered by many to be holy grounds. Tread carefully, and please touch nothing. We seek the path to the living world and not the fey one."

Shiro rapidly withdrew his hand from a nearby skull.

"So…Uh. Saber. What's your homeland, uh. Like?"

"You will see for yourself," Saber replied, leaning on her sword for a moment as she paused. Her eyes shone with excitement, an emotion not usually displayed outward.

"Britain is truly beautiful. The forests are luxuriant and filled with all sorts of animals. The river Avalon runs through the city, and Camelot is perched upon a mountain. In summer, as we are now, fireflies dot the skies as Avalon sparkles under the moonlight. Shadows dance and laugh as you see the glowing spots of heath-fires within each house. It is a marvelous realm blessed by God…"

"Huh. Well, we're here now so I'm sure I'll get to see." Shiro attempted to respond. He was going to say more about things, but he then realized how serious he sounded and stopped himself.

Dammit. I have to learn some smooth-talking from Ilya next time…

"Indeed."

The pair continued their journey in silence, each thinking their personal thoughts as the shadows seemed to weave behind them.


Across time in a separate plane of existence another pair was engaged in heated argument in the middle of the desert.

"Archer, dear. I don't CARE if you had Counter-Guardian training or whatever. You don't understand where we're going. If we're in this desert of whatever here, then we should be heading EAST instead of west. In which direction are we going now? WEST!"

Archer signed as he adjusted the straps on his pack. Rin had brought significantly large amounts of "supplies" for the trip. Which of course, included the tomes from her father's precious collection. Heavens know why she has these things.

"Rin, where are you getting this information from? That dusty old map tucked in the "History of Mesopotamia?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I figured since we're entering portions of history we might as well come prepared. Oh, don't give me that look! We've been trekking in the sands for four hour now. Give me a break!"

"Rin, but weren't you the one who said you knew where we were going –"

Risking Rin's anger in the middle of nowhere would probably be counter-intuitive, Archer thought nonchalantly as he swallowed.

"C'mon. Let's go. We need to get to Goldy's place."

This may not be a good time to tell her that she's holding the map upside down.


The winding path of the cave seemed to be endless as Shiro followed his former Servant in the dark, guided by a single light. He didn't quite mind, as she has been telling him of her knights and their various stories, which were entertaining to listen to. As they moved closer to the entrance, he noticed a change in Saber's behavior. She paused more often, as if unsure of herself. Worry crept into her eyes as she would occasionally look around, as if to make sure he was still there.

"Saber? What's the matter?"

"Something is amiss. We are close to the mouth of the cave. Normally, the smell of pines is heavy around here, as the mouth of Karste is heavily forested. At this point, the guardsmen and caretakers normally stationed around here would have stopped us by now… Something is amiss."

Repeating herself, Saber muttered as her steps hastened. She turned sharply around a corner as Shiro struggled to keep up.

"Saber, wait up, you're moving too fast. Maybe the men are just asleep or something."

"Impossible. Finest troops of the kingdom are stationed here. The commandeering officer is top among the peers of the round table. Her men are nothing but punctual. I can sense it; something's gone horribly wrong."

Saber was running. Thinking of something to say to ease her anxiety, Shiro ran after her. He wasn't sure what he could say, but he was going to make an effort. Unfortunately, he needed to catch up first. Grueling minutes passed as the pair rushed through the rest of the catacombs. Shiro was a decent sprinter, but he wasn't quite as agile as Saber. The pair's footsteps echoed in the tunnel as shadows danced grotesquely on the stones behind them.

A pair of heavy doors loomed before the Eirei and her follower. The inlaid ivory patterns were stained dark and barely discernable. Had Saber not stopped in front of it, Shiro would have run past it without second thought. The gates of the guardroom stood silently as Saber pushed it open. Hinges creaking, the room was dark. An unpleasant smell of mustiness and decay followed. Brushing dust off a torch lying on a nearby crate, Shiro lit it as he followed Saber inside.

The room was covered with a thick layer of dust. It seemed to have been abandoned for quite a while. A fleeting moment of fear passed over Saber's face after she methodically examined every chamber, and found all empty.

"Strange," she murmured to herself. Shiro gently placed his hand on her shoulder as he placed the torch within a holster.

"It's ok. Saber. I'm sure it'll all work out. Your knights probably had good reasons for not being here! They could be out! Or …taking a trip!" Desperately wracking his brain for something comforting to say, Shiro babbled.

"Or, wait! They could just be dead or something."

Saber shook her head and said nothing as she headed to the antechamber. Tapping a brick on the wall, a compartment slid open as a piece of parchment fell onto the ground. Carefully picking it up, she gave a little smile of relief.

"Here it is. This is a cache. In the event of a journey or a mission of some sort, the officer in charge will leave instructions for the replacement – or in this case, us. I knew they wouldn't have left us without word or message."

Shiro peered over Saber's shoulder. The parchment was dog-eared and certainly seen better days, despite its recent discovery. The handwriting was graceful and flowing, but it was uneven in places. They began reading it with furrowed brows.

July 26th. Year 58.

I, Bedivere, Knight-Warrior of the Round Table leave this in writing, to whomever may it concern. I swear upon my sword that what contains below is of the whole truth, else damn me to eternal dishonor.

A tactical withdraw was ordered as we were forced to abandon our posts and were instructed to return to Camelot immediately. All available hands were to report to Camelot immediately, for the situation was dire. Mordred, after having been slain by our beloved king, Arthur was once again seen, but at the head of a great army. Rumors float that shadow-creatures walk amongst them, and that they wield terrible blades of pure darkness, piercing a man in half without second thought. Steel holds no defenses. Arrows merely glance off them. Fire is the only thing that they seem to be afraid of, and forged iron does seem to injure them. Yet… they were supposedly invulnerable!

We had originally dismissed it as rumors if it was not for the fact that we encountered these "shadow creatures" ourselves. Three days ago the garrison was attacked by mysterious forces of darkness. They were man-like in shape, but had the strength of ten and vitality of a hundred. There were seventeen of them in total. Our strength of fifty knight errant, three hundred and fifty men-at-arms was severely depleted. Out of the knights, only I and eight others survive. All of us with light to serious wounds. The creatures leave no corpses and merely vanish. Strangely enough, they seemed to be eager to rush into the crypt, but some mysterious green aura prevents them from doing so.

Regardless, morale is low. I have dismissed the others and instructed them to return to their various estates.I ride alone. Bitter, because I bring no assistance to Camelot beside myself. It is stated within legend that our King would have returned to assist us and banish the darkness. I still believe – I have seen our liege with my own eyes. But the darkness is strong, and my faith is wavering.

War is upon us.

Undersigned, Bedivere of Cromwell.

"Huh. This isn't good, is it? How far away is Camelot?"

"Eight hour's ride, or a day on foot if we can manage. Shiro. We're going."

Saber crumpled the paper as she clutched her sword tightly. With barely concealed anger and grief she barked to Shiro as she stepped out of the room and began cranking opening the main gates that lead to the outside world.


Unlike the stifling catacombs of Karste, the setting Babylonian sun shone weakly on Archer and Rin's backs. Miles and miles of sand greeted them as they slowly trudged along, each step taking them closer to their destination.

"Nightfall is near, Archer. Shall we stop or shall we push on?"

"There are dangerous things wandering around in the dark. Better we stop."

"Weren't you the one who said we needed to get to Goldy's as soon as possible?"

"There is an oasis nearby. Rin, you need the break."

"Psh, "You need the break," says my loyal Servant," Rin playfully bantered on. "Are you sure it's not the big man himself who needs to rest?"

"You were the one complaining about sand in your shoes." Archer thoughtfully retorted as they approach the small pool of water together.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. You had combat boots that must have weighed fifty pounds. I had to pull you out from those pits twice…"

Pausing at the crystalline water, Rin cupped her hands and placed them in. The liquid was warm from the sun yet refreshing to her skin. As she wiped her face carefully, she watched Archer setting up their makeshift shelter.

"Correction. Once. The first time I didn't see the sand scorpion nest. The other time you tripped and shoved me-"

"Whatever. Let's just stop."

"Too tired to argue?" Archer smirked as Rin turned around and took her hairpins off. "Or is my most humble master finally admitting her mistake for once?"

"Too smart," Rin fired back, her eyes dancing with laughter as she winked at her servant. "There's no one around to see me butcher your logic. Besides, I'm getting in the water. My hair needs a break and so does the rest of my body."

"You're taking a bath in the middle of nowhere?"

"Hey. Bathwater is scarce in ancient history. I don't know when I'm going to get another one. We've walked for the bulk of the day anyways, and you yourself said we're stopping."

"Ok. I'm going to gather some firewood –"

Rin couldn't help but giggle a bit as she eyed her servant and winked. Always the practical one.

"You sure you don't want to jump in with me? There's no one around…"

Archer paused mid-stride as he slowly reversed his steps.

"As you wish, O lady of sands."


Britain was at peace.

The serene forests near Camelot castle were filled with life as birds sang in its branches. Groves and groves of ancient willows wavered in the afternoon light as their branches swished back and forth. Oaks stood tall and proud as squirrels hopped around their powerful arms, nesting and looking for acorns. The grass in the glades thrived as toadstools and wildflowers bloomed. Avalon's sparkling stream ran through the lands, powering life.

Britain was at peace. Was.

An eerie silence filled the glade. Birds no longer sing. Flowers no longer bloomed. Where once was green was filled with charred black stumps. The glade is quite as its greenery is stripped. Where the willow once swayed there are now only ashes. Avalon's murky waters flowed on reluctantly, as if unwilling to show the world of its contamination. The dying sun shed its pallid light upon the field where once so much stood.

"Saber. Do you know what might have happened?"

Saber grimaced. She truly had no idea what happened.

"I do not know … I have amplified our velocity by calling on the wind. Yet even the winds are unusually distant. And we have not seen a living soul since we've arrived. I wish I can answer, Shiro. But I simply do not know."

The pair advanced slowly up a steep crescent. The ground was caked with black soot, sometimes as much as knee-high. As they climbed, Shiro noticed something shiny half-covered in the dirt. Mentioning for Saber to stop, he walked over to investigate. The pair soon pulled out a heavily burnt remnant of a shield. The faded crest of a rose crossed with a sword is barely visible under the setting sun.

"That crest belongs to the family of Sir Tristan. It is likely that he met his end here…somewhere nearby. An honorable burial is all I can do."

Carefully picking up the fragment, Saber trotted slowly to the base of a nearby tree. She carved at the ground with Excalibur furiously. Not wishing to disturb her, Shiro decided to go ahead and continue. She moves faster than me anyways, he thought to himself as he reached the summit of the hill. I should go call her to come watch the sunset. Maybe it'll cheer her up.

The sunlight felt good on his face – its light banishing his uncertainty for a moment. Shiro heard armor clink as he turned and saw Saber move next to him. He smiled and waited for her to comment. But instead, he heard a sharp intake of air as Saber gasped. Excalibur slid numbly from her fingers as her eyes remains fixed, not on the sunset, but on the field below.

It was a graveyard of weapons, standards, and armor. Here, a sword stands plunged into the dirty ground, its jeweled hilt destroyed. There, a smashed axe lies silent on the stones, its once sharp edges now chipped and worn. Broken lances mingled with half-melted platemail as thousands and thousands of them glowed dully in the dusk. A lone, tattered lion banner with half its artwork ripped off fluttered mockingly in a ring of particularly fine remains as Saber rushed down the hill. There were no survivors, no one to tell the world of what has happened. Only their weapons stood in eternal testimony to their sacrifice.

"Here was where Camelot's loyal but foolish defenders made a stand on the plains outside of their beloved manor. They paid heavily for their bravery. The reason? They wouldn't dare to let anyone desecrate the hollow grounds of chivalry."

A pair of shining black boots stomped across the lifeless barrens as a slim young man clad in obsidian knightly armor approached the pair. Blond-haired, entirely flippant, with green eyes reminiscent of Saber's. Yet they were filled with malice and entirely devoid of emotions. Mordred's rich purple cape flowed behind him as he drew his own sword. The runeblade seemed to fuse with his hand as the sword hummed with a nauseating whine.

"What's the matter, my liege?" he taunted, a strangely high-pitched laugh coming from deep down his throat. "The sight too dastardly for your royal highness to handle?"

Saber sneered. Her face quickly became emotionless as she brought up Excalibur in a guard position. She sensed a great amount of power emanating from him and wasn't quite sure how this is going to end. She knew she will fight, but first…

"Shiro. Run. Run to Camelot. See if there are survivors. I'll be late for a moment – I have some catching up to do with my son."

"But Saber! I can fight too –"

"No, leave us. This is not your affair."

Nodding, Shiro started running towards the blackened castle in the foreground as he heard Mordred cackle and the ringing of steel on steel.


It was a battle of kings. The rightful king of Britain and the rightful heir to the throne fought in the dusk as the wind howled in the empty field beside them. For a long time, both of them stared at another, neither saying a word; each remembering past memories and struggles for power.

Little did they know that the struggle for power was about to begin yet again.

It was Mordred who made the first move. He lunged at Saber with a graceful yet heavy strike. As Saber casually brought her blade to a defensive position, she was struck with such power that she nearly lost her balance. Surprised, she looked at her opponent. It was then that she noticed the writings on his blade. This moment was all Mordred needed to launch a horizontal swipe at her torso.

Saber gasped as she parried the heavy blow from her opponent. Mordred was significantly more powerful than she had remembered. Not only was he wielding a two-handed sword with one hand, but his swordsmanship has evidently improved. So far, he's managed to keep her on the offensive. The sheer force of his blows was enough to negate any flaws within his attack.

"My liege? Too weak to fight back?" Mordred grinned as he slammed Saber with an overhead slash. The strange carvings on his hand glowed a deep magenta as he stepped forward, gaining ground. He watched in satisfaction as Saber gritted her teeth and pushed his swing back with all her effort.

"Did you…do this?" Saber replied, biting off every word as she grunted from the effort of parrying her opponent. Eyes narrowing, Mordred applied more force to his sword as the two remain deadlocked.

"Yes. My liege. You have defeated me on top of that very hill, times ago. Yet you yourself was also vanquished. Camelot's glory fades without its leader." Mordred snarled as he withdrew suddenly, catching Saber off balance. A flurry of blows too fast for human eye to see as steel met steel and sparks flew from Excalibur's blade.

"My restless spirit was approached by the righteous entity, the Holy Grail itself! It granted me everything that I could have wished for …loyal subjects, nearly limitless power, a knighthood of my own! All I needed to do was eliminate my liege's pesky knights and their respective allies. An easy task, given the natures of my new powers. Hah! You, my liege have sent out knights who were oh-so-pure yet none of them were able to find it. Clearly, my liege. I was supposed to be the rightful ruler! I am the rightful king!"

Passion fueled Mordred's strikes as he spoke, a maniac gleam coming into his eyes.

"Go on. Use Excalibur's powers! My liege, the lady of the lake is weak! She is powerless to preserve you, just as she was powerless to preserve the river Avalon, and her sacred groves. She was a sham. My liege, did you know your knights charged into battle chanting her name, and she answers them not? Hah! My liege, did you know that Excalibur's powers, even if you could draw into them, are merely specks in the dust in comparison to mine? Did you know –"

Mordred's arrogant ramble was cut short as he suddenly reeled back in pain. Saber has scored a solid strike on his shoulder. No blood was drawn, but it stung him. Mordred didn't like being hurt. He also didn't like the fact that he was caught off guard.

"Silence, knave," was Saber's simple response as she lightly touched her bangs and riposted Mordred's follow-up with a blow as ferocious as his own.

"The battle has just begun."

"Indeed. And playtime is over."


Shiro ran.

He ran as fast as he could. But Camelot was still so distant. He stopped to catch his breath as night fell and he was by himself.

At this rate I'll never reach Camelot…

Huffing, he paused in front of a small clearing that wasn't yet contaminated. It was then he realized he was being an idiot – he could get to Camelot. All he had to do was reinforce his legs. As he drew power from within and channeled it downwards, Shiro grinned to himself sheepishly.

He dashed forward now with larger strides. The woods blurred past him as he chuckled in satisfaction. Soon, the broken gates of Camelot towered over him. As Shiro entered, he was immediately assaulted by a smell he knew all too well. It was coyly sweet and rancid stinking at the same time. It was the smell of death.

Archers lie sprawled at their positions on the walls as they were struck down at where they stood. Men-at-arms seemed to have formed a ring of shields as corpses were scattered all over the large city. The majority of the architecture was razed to the ground as it appeared the shield wall was broken and reformed at two positions. The wounds suffered by the dead were ghastly to see. Entire body parts and limbs were seemly carved off with some mighty strike that was smooth as clean.

It was near the castle's gates that he found the first dead knight – easily distinguishable due to his metallic copper-red armor. The knight sat with his broken sword still in hand – empty eyes staring at the sky, open yet seeing nothing. Bending down, Shiro gently patted the red-haired warrior and closed his eyes.

Sir Gawain … Saber told me that he was the only one who was clad in red…He was the castellan of the keep. Maybe this place isn't as safe as Saber thought it was.

As Shiro carefully stepped over the bodies and into doors, wary of noise and movement, he heard someone speaking somewhere on top of the castle walls. The chant was too indistinct to make out, but Shiro tensed up and took a torch from one of the dead knights on the floor. Slowly, he entered the castle. Trying to not balk at the stuff on the walls.

Strangely, the castle was remarkably empty of bodies, yet it was clear that an epic struggle has taken place. There were notches on the great staircase everywhere, suggesting that the defenders retreated to the towers fighting every inch of the way. Following the grand staircase, Shiro glumly advanced. He recognized Sir Bors only because of the unusual dual-swords he had at his side – the body itself was crushed beyond recognition. It wasn't until he heard something crunch underfoot that he realized that he had stepped on something. A closer inspection revealed a scroll case as he noticed there were papers strewn about on the floor. He quickly climbed up the last few flights and found himself in the library. Whoever took care of the bodies have not yet reached this part of the castle yet.

Here, bookshelves were dragged out and used as a barricade further down the hall as another set of stairs connected this part of the castle to the beyond. A lone defender was slumped over an overturned cabinet, her blonde locks stained dark with blood. Shiro didn't need much guessing to figure out who this was – this was Bedivere, the Scholar-General. As he approached the fallen, Shiro noticed a gray tome under one of her arms. Curiosity got the better of him as Shiro picked it up and began reading. It appeared to be a logbook of sorts. The bloodstained pages were full of daily reports and personal notes of troop movements, logistics and events. Shiro scanned through it without much interest. It was then that a smaller, brown book fell out from within. The pages were matted with blood, but Shiro could just make out the barely legible scribbling.

July 29th: We have retreated back to Camelot as the entire countryside is in uproar. The shadow army marches with the traitor-king now riding at their heads…we fought at the fields of…but more came from the north. There can be no help expected as every other …is now fighting on their o(wn) estates. Tomorrow we ride out to meet them in open fields.

Intently reading, Shiro turned the page gently as he tried to decipher every word.

August 3rd: Camlann fields have been lost…Sorrowful day it was that Sir Tris… and his lady Iseult fell while preserving the rest of us. A desperate rearguard action was …They claimed the … there is no hope. We are being trapped withinI try not to show my own fear to the troops…fear within ranks… I am their strategist, the scholar. I cannot … falter. The king promises to return. We will wait. There is still hope…small may it is.

Shiro continued. There were a few more pages that were so drenched in blood that they were stuck together. After unsuccessfully trying to pry them loose, Shiro decided to go on. The writings were more and more frantic and less cohesive as the stains become larger on the pages.

August 7th: …barred the gates. There is now fighting all over the walls…shadow creatures come…seemingly unstoppable…can hold the gates possibly if Lancelot…Across the seas…

Shiro could hear what seemed to be the words to a requiem as the old voice again sang on top of the towers. The song was hauntingly epic as the very air seemed to be lamenting.

August 9th: Many have fallen. The outer walls are down. We are surrounded…town… Lancelot cannot…We are on o…razed…Merlin will …but too l…e…

The writings within the diary wer closer to a scrawl. There was no date.

We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the city and the first layer of the keep… suffers heavy los…dead…only ones remaining alive are u…Bors and Agarine and Lucius fell while covering citizenry…too many. We still ho…g…but…ope…u…n. Lancelot…the end comes soon.

There is no hope. Our liege have ab…We have taken up positions, determined to sell our lives in defense of everything that belongs to our liege. The royal li…rar…shall be my grave. Here I shall fall with…

We hear drums, drums, drums. Drums in the deep. Drums in the deep beyond the walls.

Shiro turned the page as the requiem above him slowly faded away. The page was blank except for a hurried scribble.

They are coming.

There was nothing more.

Shiro stared at the diary for a long time, finally pocketing it. Picking up Bedivere, he carefully placed her on a table and crossed her arms. Placing the sword on the floor in her cold fingers, Shiro bowed, not knowing any prayers to say. He scurried out of the room and started toward the stairs that will lead him to the top of the keep.

True enough, there was someone there. A figure, its back slightly bent was gesturing and chanting as he arranged the dead knights onto shimmering stone biers.

"Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine; In memoria æterna erit justus, ab auditione mala non timebit..."

The requiem stopped as the stranger turned to face Shiro. It was an old man. His sharp features were enhanced by a pair of grey penetrating eyes. Upon his head sat a battered black pointy hat as he drew his black cloak in around him. His posture reminded Shiro of a hawk. For a moment, the two studied each other. It was the old man who spoke first, his shaggy eyebrows furrowing as he stared at the younger man.

"You are …Emiya Shiro, my protégé's friend, are you not?"

"Yes," Shiro answered. "Sir." Adding onto the honorific title as somehow he felt that it was befitting to the person in front of him, Shiro couldn't help but think outloud.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?"

The old man laughed bitterly as he turned back and carried another knight onto a bier.

"I am a self-styled wizard who came too late to save these lives," he answered as he chuckled slightly still, seeing Shiro's jaw drop in surprise.

"I know why you're here, Emiya Shiro. My second sight allowed me to divine your coming. Unfortunately, my second sight was not enough to prevent this from happening… You are here to stop the madness caused by the Grail, are you not?"

"Yes sir."

"Here. Assist me in giving these honorable ones proper burial first."

The two worked silently as they arranged the knights in a circular fashion and scoured the castle. There were fifty-two in all, including Bedivere. Gesturing for Shiro to step back, the old man spoke a word of command as flames in the shape of a phoenix engulfed the bodies. A cleansing smell of pine wafted through the castle as the old man slowly chanted words to an ancient lament.

"Lux æterna luceat eis, Domine, cum sanctis tuis in æternum, quia pius es. Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine; et lux perpetua luceat eis."

The fire burned as Shiro and his companion silently waited. As the flames died down, the old man turned to Shiro and spoke gently.

"Emiya Shiro. I am the court magician, teacher, friend, and advisor to King Arthur, rightful heir of the Pendragon line. I am known by many names; Myrddin, Ambrosius, but you know of me as Merlin. Tell me your tale and I'll tell you mine."

Shiro did, recounting everything from John Locke to his own battles. The old man listened intently. When Shiro finished, he sighed.

"Truly what you speak of is true…I have seen it with my own visions. I should have known when Nimue approaches with a warning, begging me to leave with her to another plane, away from this world. Alas, that I ignored her pleading…"

"I was in my study when the Grail approached me with a promise of unlimited knowledge, where all would be known to me and I will be able to shape the world according to my bidding. It was so tempting … especially after the misfortunate chain of recent events. It presented me with the Rubicon, a cursed weapon of unlimited power. All I had to do was draw it from its scabbard and what I desire will be mine."

Merlin paused, a pained look coming into his eyes as he told the rest of his tale.

"I had the sword in my hands, and it belong to me. I felt its power coursing through my veins. Then she came. Nimue, always faithful remained behind when all other spirits and elves have fled. She tried to persuade me and bring me back to reason. Yet…I was not swayed by her words. In my anger and lust for power I lashed out at her, my loyal student, companion and love. She stood there, absorbing every hex and bolt of raw elemental fury I unleashed upon her. She did not strike back for fear of me drawing into the power of the Rubicon. It does that to a man, you know. It wasn't until she fell, lifeless that I realized the magnitude of my error. With all the willpower I possessed, I threw the Rubicon away and collapsed. When I came to, I realized what I had done – and in my grief I ignored the callings from Camelot. My ignorance has caused the fall of an entire kingdom."

The two sat in silence as Merlin stopped, each in his own mental world. Finally, Shiro decided to break the silence as he tried to comfort the old man.

"I'm sure it will be alright. You'll help us fix things, right? With you and Saber, I'm pretty sure that you can beat the guy with the weird-looking purply sword and preserve the nodes. This world isn't lost yet…We can stop the Grail."

Merlin nodded in affirmation. Suddenly, his eyes widened in surprise. With surprising alacrity he grabbed Shiro by his shirt and pulled him up to eye-level.

"This man you said Artur-, excuse me, young man. Saber was fighting. What did he look like?"

"He was blond haired, with long hair. He had green eyes like Saber. In fact, he looked just like"

"Mordred?! Describe his weapon. "Purply sword?"

"It was a strangely glowing blade. When he drew it, it made this weird humming noise. The glowing was kind of purple and it made me a bit light-headed."

"You Idiot! That is the Rubicon!"

"Urr?" Shiro blinked. The magician in his passion was intimidating. Merlin hurried paced about, brows furrowed in concentration. Finally, he seemed to remember what he was looking for in his memory and bent down on the ground and drew a circle.

"There is no time. We must get there before it is too late. Come, we ride the winds of magic. We're teleporting to save your Saber."


Saber was sweating.

The duel has not been going her way. She hasn't yet scratched Mordred and already she was growing tired. She hasn't been wounded yet, but she was definitely being worn down.

Mordred, on the other hand seemed to be enjoying himself as he lunged and swept with great flamboyance. Between every strike he taunted Saber, cackling to himself as he watched her sweat.

"My liege. Did you know that that foolish knight of yours, Tristan tried to "hold me off" so his other little rats can run back and save themselves?" Mordred swung lazily as he watched Saber parry this attack with great effort.

"Did you know that his little lady, that whore of a sorceress Iseult stayed behind with him, and how they thought they could delay me, Mordred, the Once and Future King? Did you know that I ravished her in front of her husband and then cut them up both slowly, one piece at a time? Oh, how I relished the moment! Did you know that I, using the command of my shadows, annihilated your Knights of the Round Table just a few weeks ago here, at this very same spot?"

Saber gnarled her teeth as she leapt and executed an overhead slash, which Mordred parried with little effort.

"Did you know the fate of Gawain, that redhaired idiot tried to stop me by challenging me to single combat? Or of Cornelius, that fat guard captain who tried to save as many of my liege's precious citizens as possible? Or the fate of Bors, Ector, Agavrine, Bedivere, Kays, or any of those fools, my liege?"

Mordred grinned; a mad look came onto his face as his movements became impossibly fast.

"You … killed…them…" Saber muttered as she tried to catch her breath and watch her opponent.

"Oh! How wise, my liege! You are absolutely…" Mordred saw an opening and kicked Saber in her back. Gasping, she tried to bring Excalibur up. It was too late; she lost her balance and barely managed to spun out of the way as Mordred's sword scored a deep gash across her right side. Panting heavily, she tried to slash back but Excalibur only met empty air. Another flash of pain barreled into her sense as Mordred cut into her left arm. She fell onto the ground and quickly rolled out of the way as Mordred sneered.

"First and second blood, my liege. Ready to surrender your crown to me?"

Saber breathed heavily. She knew her chance of winning is rapidly diminishing.

"…Never," she barked as she raised Excalibur and dashed toward her opponent.

"Give up, my liege. This very cursed land feeds me power." Mordred haughtily replied as he sidestepped out of her way and inflicted yet another cut on her back. He smirked in satisfaction as he watched Saber drop to one knee, gasping heavily. Bleeding and battered, she was in no condition to continue fighting.

"That must have left a mark, my liege! Shall I call up your loyal knights? Oh. Wait. I'm sorry, my liege! They are all dead!"

Advancing slowly towards his opponent, Mordred hefted his weapon.

No. It cannot end like this. Saber's mind frantically tried to muster her strength as she watched Mordred approach. There is still much to be done.

King Arturia,whispered a voice in her head. Are you willing to do whatever it takes to secure victory?

Yes! She thought empathically to herself. It was strange, but the world seemed to be at a standstill as something talked directly to her mind.

Use me. I'll grant your wishes.

Saber hesitated.

King Arturia. Why not? If you fall here, you will never see your beloved Shiro again. Your knights will go unavenged, and the entire world will fall into darkness.

Saber gritted her teeth. It was so tempting to accept, yet it feels …so wrong.

I am the sword in your opponent's hand. I am the Rubicon. He is a weak master. Honorless and unworthy of my powers. You are much worthier. You are of true royal blood. Use me. Use me to defeat this cur!

"Have you said your prayers, my liege? I'd like to finish this!" With a riposte, Mordred knocked Excalibur out of her hands.

Accept my powers. Use it for good, not for evil like he did! Use me. Let me be your strength.

"Get ready to see your knights in the afterlife, my liege! Have you any last words?"

Use me use me use me use me use me use me use me

As the sword came whistling down, Saber said two words in a whisper far too faint for anyone else but her to hear.

"…I accept."

A tremendous gust of wind roared in spot as Mordred screamed in pain, the sword in his hands glowing. It shone with a fierce purple light as the light tore into Mordred, tearing away his armor and knocking him down. The whirling blades of purple light cut into his skin as he howled in anguish. Then, rapidly reforming, the light soon formed into a magnificent two-handed sword and landed in the ground in front of her.

Take me. Use me. Strike him down. He who caused the kingdom so much pain…

"…Fa-father?" Groaning, Mordred feebly tried to get back onto his feet. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what happened as tears slowly trickled down his face.

"By the Gods…no. My liege. Forgive me. I was under the possession of another soul, the soul which is in your hands now. Oh Gods, the pain! My liege!"

Saber paused. She looked at Excalibur, its blade dull and lifeless in the night. Moonlight shone upon her visage as her eyes narrowed menacingly.

"My liege. It's not too late. Do not give in to it! Put it down! Do not make the same mistake I made –" Mordred's plea was cut short as he wailed in pain, the Rubicon cutting deeply into his flesh. Coughing and choking, he writhed in agony as Saber twisted the sword.

"No. You're beyond redemption."

With a sigh, Mordred stopped moving. Saber felt a momentary feeling of distress as she looked into his eyes. Eyes that were not full of hate, but of resignation, regret, and self-loathing. She turned around to Excalibur and hefted it. It was unusually heavy and felt freezing to the touch.

"Saber!!"

"Arturia! What have you done?"An old voice carved through the darkness as two figures stepped from the woods.

Saber turned around. The Rubicon gave her new energy, new emotions, and new powers. She was not quite herself as she seemed to be watching herself from another angle, as if she was outside of her body. Her own voice chilled her to the core as she heard herself speak.

"Merlin. How kind of you to show now."

"Arturia. Listen to me. That weapon … is not meant to be used by man! You have your rightful blade, Excalibur, the sword of dreams. Is that not enough?"

"No. Excalibur abandoned me in my hour of need. I have this now. Merlin. For old time's sakes, move out of the way or else I will cut you down."

"Arturia, what will you do with it?" Merlin tensed as he pulled out a long oaken staff. The tip of the staff glowed with arcane energy as the dragonclaw crystal carvings shone with an elfin light."

"I will kill."

"Saber! What happened to you? Why are you acting like this?"

It's the annoying little brat. Remember. He was the reason why you had to go to the other world. He was the reason why you were not there to save your knights. Strike him down.

No! Saber said to herself. He is Shiro. I can't attack Shiro –

Strike him down. For the good of the kingdom.

"Saber, stop! Merlin's right. Listen to him!"

Look at him. Siding with the old man, the old man who stood by and did nothing while your knights bled to death on Camelot's walls. Strike him down.

A part of Saber wanted to scream. She wanted to drop the sword. To her horror, she realized that she can't. It was like the sword was welded to her arms.

Resist if you want, Arturia. But I am right. I am always right. It's for the good of the kingdom that we are doing this.

Shiro stood out with his arms open. His voice was as loud as ever, though there was a hint of uncertainty as he shouted.

"Saber! Don't you know me? What are you doing? Stop! This isn't like you!"

The only reply he got was a ghastly grin as Saber gripped the Rubicon tightly. She trotted slowly towards him. Her once-silver armor has taken on a grayish hue, and her blue dress turns darker and darker with each step.

"Merlin?! What's wrong with her?"

Merlin shook his head as he looked to his former student and the young man in front of him.

"She has been lost to the power of the Rubicon. The Saber you knew was gone."

"I don't believe you! Saber! Stop! Why are you holding that sword like you wanted to kill me? Stop!"

That's right. We do want to kill him. Kill him. Arturia. Kill him and we can begin avenging your knights!

No. This is wrong. This has gone far enough.

Kill him. Kill him kill him

Her body no longer responding to her commands, Saber watched herself break into a run as she charged with the Rubicon, her expressionless face intent on having blood. She recoiled in horror and closed her eyes as she winced, anticipating steel meeting solid flesh.

Instead, the sword met wood as it met Merlin's enchanted oaken staff. Shiro flopped on the ground as Merlin rushed in and saved his life. Saber breathed a sign of relief. However, her ease was cut short when she once again picked up her sword.

"Saber?" Dazed, Shiro stared at her, clearly hurt by her behavior. "Saber?"

How she wished she could have told him! Instead, her mouth would not open. she chopped at Shiro. Her sword hit an invisible barrier as Merlin conjured up a shield.

"Arturia. This has gone far enough. You shall not pass!"

He dares to aid the one whom we must destroy. Your teacher must die as well! The voice whispered as Saber hacked away at the batter. Sparks flew as she chipped away Merlin's enchantment.

"Emiya Shiro. Take Excalibur and escape!"

"But how?"

"Idiot! Use that portal I just conjured!" Merlin growled as his shield strained under the constant assault. "I'm not as young as I once was!"

"What about you?" Shiro's question was cut short as Merlin let loose an arc of lightning. Saber deflected the bolt easily as the surge harmlessly bounced off her blade. Eye narrowing into dangerous slits, Merlin concentrated.

"Fly, you fool!" Merlin's hoarse whisper echoed across the night as he commanded Shiro.

Shiro nodded. With one last pained look, he ran past Merlin, grabbed Excalibur and started to disappear in the little circle of light. The barrier Merlin summoned was bright now, its hallowed light glowing in the night air as the darkness threatened to engulf it. The dragonclaw crystal glowed like the blazing sun as it illuminated Merlin's ancient face.

"Merlin." Saber spoke. Her voice as mechanical as the blade she had in front of her.

"This is your last chance. You know you cannot win against me. You, who rejected me once shall perish this time. Nimue isn't around to save you. Step away. I do not wish to kill potential vassals."

"Perhaps!" The old man huffed, evidently strained by his efforts. He was clearly satisfied with himself as he curtly replied to Saber's taunt.

"I know from my visions that today, here is where I will fall. But the decisive factor is that I brought this one time. Where I have failed, he will succeed! You should also know that this old man won't make the same mistake twice!"

"Then prepare to die."

"You'll not find me easy prey." With that, Merlin began his counterattack. Tornados raged across the field as fissures and cracks opened in the ground. Mighty spheres of lightning and fireballs appeared at whim. The display of elemental power was impressive – though most of these seemed to have no adverse effect. Even though Saber tried to advance, but the arcane winds pinned her down. She was unable to take a step forward.

You see how even your teacher dares to try to stop you here…when you could be carrying out vengeance. The sword said to her. You have not yet tapped fully into my strength. Use me like you really wish it. Use me …if you wish true vengeance!

"Arturia! I said it before, I will say it again. It is not too late! Please, for all of us. Drop that sword!"

A part of Saber desperately wanted to scream and say yes. But the rest of her said no. Saber shook her head, a maniac glint coming into her eyes. The same look that was on Mordred's face as he advanced.

"You leave me with no choice. Arturia," Merlin whispered harshly. His voice was drowned with sorrow as he continued. "Then I will be forced to unleash my full power."

Saber shook her head. The winds were blowing so fiercely that her eyes hurt. Sighing, but determined to fulfill his threat, Merlin's hands glowed with ethereal energy as the stars in the skies were completely blotted out. In the blanketing darkness that ensued, a brilliant object streaked across the night.

"Harbinger of woe. I have never thought the need to call upon you…"

Saber. Drop the sword. Saber. Drop it. A voice that sounded suspiciously Shiro-like called to her in the back of her head.

Your teacher has betrayed us! See how he uses the Comet of Casandora. Even I am powerless against astral powers such as that!

"Casandora, Cassandra. The prophetess of doom. Arturia. Do you still remember the lessons I gave you, so long ago?"

Merlin's cloak billowed out in the gust as a glowing red dot descended upon the battlefield. The comet was both beautiful and terrible to behold as the dot became a speck, then a blot, revealing its enormous size as it approached. Merlin watched his opponent, shaking his head.

"The Comet of Casandora comes, Arturia. Soon not even I will have the power to dispel it."

To his great surprise, Saber bent down and plunged the sword into the black earth. A strange look appeared on her face for a moment, but her expression remained carefully neutral.

"Merlin. You are right. I'll abandon the weapon, but I need your help. I can't do it alone."

This time, Saber did scream as she watched her mentor and friend paused, his hesitance evident as he motioned towards the meteor. She heard herself speak those words again, but she was so distant from her body. Stop, Merlin. Stop! That isn't me speaking. She looked Merlin directly in the eye as she tried to convey her feelings. Yet Merlin was unaware of her anguish as the elemental forces surrounding him disappeared, leaving only the light barrier between them. Saber smirked dangerously as she knelt down beside the weapon.

See how predictable is the fool? Your hands never left the hilt. You belong to me now, as I belong to you. Heart, body and soul. Strike him down.

Too late did Merlin see that the obsidian gauntlets still clutched the Rubicon tightly. Shouting a word of command, Saber unleashed the full strength of the cursed artifact. The purple energies rushed out like torrential downpour and barraged Merlin. Caught by surprise, the magician was split between two actions. He could maintain his spells or stop the Comet of Casandora's descent, but not both at the same time. The dragonclaw crystal atop Merlin's staff glowed as Merlin struggled. He was going to have to drop his guidance on the comet.

Saber braced herself for impact. Though she was powerless in control of her own body, her honor told her that she had not only betrayed one, no; two of her closest friends, but also that she have committed to a grave cause. She was almost glad of her eminent annihilation as the Comet of Casandora blitzed through the clouds.

Closing her eyes, she waited for her moment of oblivion. Then, she found herself grasping the Rubicon and moving. Merlin was smiling. A wistful, compassionate smile of understanding appeared on his face as he gestured.

"Don't do it, Merlin. Don't do it! Can't you see that this is not me?" For a moment, Saber was back in control as she desperately wailed at him.

"Arturia. I know. But this is the only way."

The dragonclaw crystal grew brighter and brighter, until suddenly, it shattered. With it, the Comet of Casandora vanished suddenly as well. Breathing heavily, Merlin's barrier was struck by four bolts of dark energy emanating from the Rubicon. As a fifth one penetrated his shield and he reeled back in anguish, Saber dashed forward and methodically stabbed him in his chest.

Soundlessly, the magician collapsed, the remnant of a smile still on his face as his body disappeared in a shower of light.

A small tear trickling from the corner of her eye as Saber wiped her sword unceremoniously on Merlin's cloak was all the control of her body she had left. She didn't know why she was crying. Was for Shiro? For Merlin? For her knights? Or was it for her and the loss of everything she once was? She did not know. Behind her, the deadly quietude of the forest was marked by the stars slowly rising into the crestfallen skies. All was still.


On a mountaintop, a man in his prime watched the display of light. Bowing his head silently for a moment, he turned towards the rest of his troops, grimacing.

"Merlin fell."

A round of gasps was heard in the camp. Motioning for silence, the man stood up, his shadows stretching far onto the nearby cliff as moonlight shone on his youthful but seasoned face.

"It's all on us now. We're England's last hope."