Author's note: Special thanks to Yuurei and Alyx Weill. You'll see what you guys mean when you read the fic. This is past BETA, but expect small grammar fixes here and there.
As always, there's an obscure reference to something. Cookie to anyone who gets it!
Also. As a warning. The ending is ambiguous for a reason.
Dawn.
The ominous darkness slowly gave away as the sun slowly climbed over the horizon. Shining on the prone figure on the ground, the scorched grass weakly wavered in the light. Shiro slowly opened his eyes. As he blinked rapidly, the events of the previous night came rushing to him. He groaned. Too many things have happened in too short of a time. He was feeling lost, hopeless, scared. Saber was gone. He couldn't believe it.
What happened? What happened to the Saber I knew and loved? Shiro closed his eyes and reopened them, as if the act will remove all traces of what has happened last night. To his great disappointment, it wasn't a dream and it really did happen. He was now alone in a strange land; his former Servant and love interest tried to skewer him yesterday; the one man that might have helped the situation hasn't shown up to help him yet. To say that Shiro was in some serious trouble was an understatement.
Slowly climbing back onto his feet, Shiro grabbed the hilt of Excalibur. It was all he had to remind himself that there is still hope.
"Excalibur … the sword of promised victory." Shiro muttered as he stared at the blade, wishing for it to respond. The eerie silence was unbearable as he slowly trudged forward. For him, the only thing he could do is to walk on.
John Locke frowned as he looked into his tablet. Playing with a loose strand of hair, he absentmindedly tapped the Tabula Rasa as it blinked into life and showed Shiro's progress. He crossed his fingers and sighed. This wasn't looking good.
"Alright. Show me what's going on with the rest of that realm. I know Saber's been lost – that is fixable, I think. I'm fairly sure the natural order along with whoever's still alive is still putting up a decent fight; else we would have lost the ability to spy on it in the first place. Has Avalon itself responded to anything at this moment?"
The Tabula Rasa immediately went blank as idle dots appeared in one side. Locke slapped his forehead.
"This is not the time to be making sarcastic comments; just get to the point."
A series of small pictures appeared on-screen as Locke nodded in affirmation. Ilya peered over his shoulder and looked at them in interest. She was perched on top of Berserker's shoulder, who seemed to have fallen asleep while standing up.
"Professor John Locke? What is your little computer-thing doing?"
"Professor or "Locke" is fine. It's showing us what's happening to history as we speak," Locke smiled, waving his hand nonchalantly and stood up as the Tabula Rasa stretched over to accommodate its new reader. A flurry of activity can be seen as lights and pictures disappeared and re-appeared as soon as a flash of the eye.
"I believe I've told you that the Tabula Rasa literally translates to the "blank slate," right? Well, to explain myself better, the blank slate is literally the state of the human mind – our own minds when we are first born. You see, our modern ideas of laws are really grounded on this idea – in order to process the data, we must add rules and regulations to it. A precept or a status quo, if you will. My little friend here - " patting the Tabula Rasa like a master petting a favorite pet dog, Locke continued. "Is essentially our mirror and gateway to watch reality unfold. By tapping into the original state of conscious thought, it's able to simultaneously process the collective unconscious and thus, show us what happens or did happen in history. This little thing lets us track down the Grail's actions and movements and allows us to access and use Nodal fragments. It also doubles as a spy-camera, a blackboard, a timeline of world events, graphic organizer, tracker of the next Royal Academy debate match and it's one hundred percent environmental friendly. Am I making sense so far?"
"Uh…You lost me at the status quo and precept part." Ilya meekly responded.
"Eh, well…It's alright. It's hard to explain. Here, why don't you come help me sort out my notes or something? It'll keep you occupied until your large friend over there wakes up."
"I am awake, John Locke," replied Berserker gruffly. He has been awake for the past hour but kept his eyes closed in hope that Ilya wouldn't be bothering him or pulling on his hair. "I'm not really interested in how your Noble Phantasms work. I know we're here to save the world, but I've got a question too. What I'd like to know is that why aren't we out there, helping my fellow heroes and the young ones fight. Why haven't we been sent out to save one of those Points of Influences with a Nodal Fragments yet?"
John Locke pursed his lips for a moment as the Tabula Rasa once again lapsed into inactivity. After a tense moment, he replied.
"Well, you see. We – I mean, I'd like to have someone keep an eye on the city. You know that though this residence is in the suburbs, there are still plenty of chances for an attack. Until I finish my enchantment to suspend reality so others won't be a part of the battle, it would be terribly unfortunate if something did happen to the city while the heroes are present, wouldn't it?"
"Wait a minute. Suspend reality? What?!" Ilya gulped. She had seen plenty of magic, but nothing even close to this sort. She had a feeling that this enigmatic philosopher was joking, but a quick glance at his sharp eyes told her that this was no joke. For a brief moment, she felt a presence as ancient as time itself, yet the feeling disappeared as soon as it came, leaving her to wonder whether or not it was some trick of the lights.
"Well, not quite "suspend," as it is more something like this. Through again, my efforts and this little whiteboard here, what I can do is place a mechanism upon anyone who enters this world. In other words, you can still interact with the world as normal, but anyone who is spirit-related or anyone entering this world at this point will be unable to affect the reality – in other words, whatever buildings you destroy, trees you uproot, and the like will not be permanent but rather only be in this duplication..."
Locke sighed as he paused and adjusted his collar. "My apologies for not making things clearer. It is difficult for a teacher to explain to such bright students when even the teacher himself cannot put the concept into words."
"I get it. Your Noble Phantasm is that little tablet that you're carrying, and that you're one of those Counter-guardians like Archer, aren't you? Only a true hero will think of the countless innocents at stake should the Grail make its move here."
All heads in the room turned to Sakura as she entered the room. Her blue bangs waved gently in the morning air as she blushed, unused to the attention. Locke smiled again as he tapped his long fingers on the Tabula Rasa.
"Well, I'm no… Alright. It is as you say. Yes. You are correct in that regard."
"John Locke. You still haven't answered my question. Why haven't we been sent out to save one of those Nodal Fragments yet?"
Locke held up a finger and gestured for them to wait. After a few seconds, he replied in an even tone as the Tabula Rasa flashed crimson and statistics begin to fly off the board at an alarming rate.
"Well, we've got incoming. Just north from the house, actually."
Berserker tensed as his stone club instantly materialized in his hand.
"Could have told me earlier."
Every inch the mighty warrior, Hercules, he stood tall as his bronze skin glistened in the light. He stretched and swung his club a few times, just to feel the balance. Muscles bulged in his powerful arms as he nodded in satisfaction. He looked to Ilya, who signaled her readiness with resolve. Her childish nature instantly gone as she hopped onto his shoulder, a serious look in her eyes. He can sense the magic emanating from her, and he was grateful that there was much skill in a girl so young.
"Are you ready, Berserker? Let's go!"
The giant and his tiny rider lumbered out the front door. Behind them, Sakura quietly sighed. I wish I could do something She thought wistfully. I feel utterly useless. It's always Rin or Shiro or Saber getting to do things. Always them getting the center of the stage. Closing her eyes, she was about to go to sleep when she hear Locke's voice drifting in from the kitchen.
"Miss Mato? If you wouldn't mind, could you come here for a moment?"
"Yes, Professor?" Sakura replied. Feeling awful or not, she was still Sakura.
"Well, I require your assistance; come here before my tablet changes its mind!"
Shiro's legs felt like sandbags as they ampled forward. It was daybreak and he still hasn't seen a living soul. He was disturbed. The sun shone dully on his back as his ears whined and his mouth ran dry. What he wouldn't give for a drink right now…
Pausing under a blackened oak tree, he plopped down at its roots. Relishing what little shade the dead branches offered him, Shiro placed Excalibur beside him and stretched. A break was nice and he needed it.
I wish I knew what was going on…Locke said we were supposed to preserve the points of influence by using nodal fragments, but he didn't even tell us how.Shiro sighed, noticing the echo of his breathing across the area. Not even the winds moved. Everything seemed to be …dead. He sighed again. At least he was not far from Karste – he could see Camelot over the horizon as a tiny significant dot. The sight gave him a little bit of hope.
Right now, I need to reach Avalon. I need to at least return Saber's sword. And as long as I believe, I'll succeed. I'll be a hero. I will help everyone save our world!
Grabbing the hilt of Excalibur, Shiro leapt back to his feet. The only response to his sudden action was a small dirt devil spinning rapidly away from him. As if the dustball provoked him, Shiro lashed out at the tree with the sword. He was slightly frustrated; fearful, and suffering from a multitude of issues. A nasty little voice behind his ear whispered to him.
How do you expect to
succeed? Saber failed. What made you better? Do you even know what
you're doing or where you're going?
I'm heading to Avalon to return Saber's sword. Merlin said he'll come help me. I'll find someone…they'll tell me what I need to do.
Idiot. Merlin's not showing up. He's probably dead. And soon, you will be too. You have no food, water, or shelter. What will you do if Saber catches up to you?
Shiro blinked. He tried to push the image of Saber, now clad totally in dark armor rushing after him with that strange sword.
"Can't be negative now," he muttered to himself. "The world depends on it."
Yes, the voice said in a tone suspiciously resembling Archer. What are you going to do, fight with sticks and harsh words? You can't even use Excalibur. Just how do you plan on saving the world anyways?
Shiro had no comeback to talk himself out of it. Snarling, he hacked away at the stump. The action made him more lightheaded, but he felt better. Sparks flew as enchanted metal met hardened wood as Shiro slashed it a few more times for good measure. Satisfied and also feeling a bit guilty, he moved on.
He took a mere two steps before realizing that something strange was happening. His surroundings were suddenly…green. The road was still dirt covered, but everywhere else was …green. The trees waved to him in the distance and the rest of the area was covered with lush, long grass. Shiro rubbed his eyes. I must be delusional, he thought.
He wasn't. The tree stump was still there, complete with the notches he made with Excalibur five minutes ago. Camelot was still faintly seen in the background – but everything was covered with plants and life. Trees seemed to have sprung out of nowhere as he stood there, mouth open in surprised. Straining his senses to figure out what was going on, he heard a loud voice singing further down from the road.
"Life ish a waste o'time…Life ish a hic waste o'time!"
The singer walked into view. He was a chubby, balding man in his early forties. Shiro raised his eyebrows and stared in pure curiosity.
"O' all my favorishte tshings to do, the utmost ish to have a brew!"
Walking with the biggest ale tankard ever in one hand and a very battered copy of the Bible in the other, he sang cheerfully as he trudged along. His brown robes had certainly seen better days and his rosary beads dangled like a tail behind him.
"My love growsh for my foamy friend, with each tshrist-quenchin' elbow bend."
It was unclear whether the monk was just careless or roaring drunk. He stepped on a bead, wobbled precariously and found his balance again as he strolled towards Shiro, apparently happily oblivious of the fact that there was a red-haired boy gaping at him as Excalibur slid numbly onto the ground.
"Ale ish soh froshty, smoosth and cold…Ish paradise, pure liquid gold!" The friar continued, ale sloshing out from his tankard. "Sho get wasted all o' the time, and always cheer your - " pausing there for a moment and staring at Shiro, the friar stopped dead in his track and grinned at him.
"Why, hello dere hic you want thish drink?"
"Uh…" Shiro wasn't sure if he should be taking it or not. Clearly he was underage and he probably shouldn't be taking drinks from strangers anyways. Yet, his thirst gnawed at him and he badly wanted a sip. Convincing his brain of the righteousness of his actions, he nodded and took the mug and gulped it down.
"Ish nice?"
"Yeah, thank you," Shiro replied. He wasn't used to the slightly sweet, tangy taste. But it felt good and the drink reinvigorated him. Handing the tankard back to the friar, he picked Excalibur back up and prepared to continue. The blade flashed in the sunlight as for a moment it shone once again with its former glory.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!! ISH A BANDIT! 'e's trying to SLARSH me!" Screamed the friar, his expressions fearful as he saw Excalibur in Shiro's hands. Flinging his tankard onto the ground, he turned tail and fled back the way he came from.
"HALP hic! DERE ISH BANDIT TRYING TO hic SLARSH ME!"
"Wait, no! Hold on, it's not - " Shiro paused in midsentence. He wasn't sure if he should be bending over laughing or trying to explain to the poor man that he meant him no harm. Reinforcing his legs, he picked up the tankard and dashed towards the friar, soon passing him. Smiling, he handed the drinking vessel back to its bewildered master.
"Here, I think you dropped this."
The look the friar gave to him was one of pure, undulated terror as he shook from head to toe.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAA A AA AAA AAA AAAA!!!! DER BANDIT ISH CAUGHT'D ME! I ISH BE SLARSHED!"
The friar bawled in a loud voice enough to shatter windows or raise the dead. This time, Shiro couldn't help himself. He dropped Excalibur and bend over laughing as the friar mistook his actions for one of hostility and quickly leapt backwards, tripping over his brown robes in the process. The sight made Shiro laugh harder. He moved closer to the friar and offered him his hand.
"Sir, do you want some help getting up," he smiled, ducking his head as he leaned over the prone friar, who was now flopping around on the road like a fish. Shiro heard a sharp twang, but he paid it no heed. He wanted to help this guy. "I'm not a bandit. My name is Emiya Shiro."
It was then he noticed the white-fletched arrow in front of him. Shiro's eyes widened in surprise as he realized, had he not bend down and offered to help the man up, he would be dead. That must have been the twang I heard.
Now tense, he looked around him. He saw nothing but trees. Silently cursing himself, Shiro pulled Excalibur into a defensive posture. He wished he knew how to deflect arrows – seeing Saber doing it once. Straining his senses, he saw nothing. Apart from the friar's incoherent ramblings, the forest was dead silent. Another white-fletched arrow whistled dangerously over his head.
"WILL! MARIAN! hic ISH ME! HALP! BANDIT!"
Shiro grunted in annoyance as yet another arrow whizzed past his head. Whoever was making these shots was purposefully missing. He wanted to say he wasn't a bandit, and that this was just all a misunderstanding, but his thoughts were interrupted as a red fletched arrow landed squarely in front of his feet. A voice called out to Shiro from one of the trees.
"Dear, haven't you learned that you don't pick on defenseless, ignorant, andintoxicated members of the church?"
The speaker was a young woman in her early twenties. Dressed like a hunter, she was shapely yet moved with a lethal grace as she held her longbow in her hands. Her clothing had a dark hue; it blends perfectly with the environment. A green cape draped behind her and pooled on a branch as she leaned forward, her deerskin blouse showing her slightly tanned skin. Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as she pulled back her bowstring.
"Any last words, dear?"
"Marian. For God's sake. Stop playing and just shoot him. We've got bigger shit on our hands to handle than this kid."
Another man dropped from the branches. His rugged appearance contrasted with the maiden's as he placed a white feathered arrow onto his own bow. His actions were abrupt, methodical, and professionally soldier-like; his tattered tunic and leggings were of similar make and tone as the young woman's beside him. A scar ran across his face as he frowned.
"Will, you know I like to play with the prey first…" The lady winked. "Besides, you know I'm a better shot. When Robin gets here this mugger'll be like a pincushion."
"Wait! No, I'm not a bandit – I'm not trying to," Shiro yelled. He meant no harm! "I'm not trying to hurt him! He just dropped his tankard when he saw me!"
"Dear, like I'm going to believe that. Tuck never leaves a drop of alcohol behind," the young woman huffed and ran her fingers through her long, hazel hair. "Goodbye."
She fired her bow. This time, the arrow was on straight trajectory towards Shiro's heart. Before it could reach, however, another arrow shot directly into her red feathered shot and knocked it out of the way.
"Marian, honey? What did I tell you about treating strangers who aren't being openly hostile?"
Both Marian and Shiro turned at the source of this new voice as a third man dropped down from the trees and landed in front of Shiro. His weathered face was full of stubbles and his ruffled brown hair peeked out from under a ridiculously pointy hat with a gigantic red feather stuck on it. His sword, horn and pouches dangled easily from his leather belt as he casually picked up Tuck's tankard. Marian's eyes softened as they met his warm gaze and she chuckled.
"Alright, love. "Ask questions first, shoot after."
"That's my lass!" blowing her a kiss, the ranger turned to face Shiro.
"Hi there, young man. I'm Robin of Loxley, and these are my merry men-in-arms - "
"Merry woman-in-arms too," winked Marian.
"- comrades-in-arms. Marian, Will Scarlet, and the friar passed out on the ground are Tuck. I'd be happy to turn you into a pincushion but I'd be happier to hear what you've got to say.."
Shiro recounted his tale, starting from how he met friar Tuck on the road and the events in relation to the past night. He talked about John Locke, Saber, and what was happening to reality. Robin's eyes narrowed for a moment as he studied Excalibur intently. When he finished his story, he nodded to Will and Marian.
"It's just as I thought…The flashes of light we saw last night." emphasizing his point with a flex of his hand, Robin continued. "It is as I said, we're England's last hope. Young man, why don't you tag along with us?"
"Robin, this kid could be lying to your face." Will retorted as he eyed Shiro suspiciously. "I'm still not getting his story."
"Will, dear. You know we got pulled out from Nottingham for a reason – we've been in this time period for two months now," added Marian as she cut Will off. "I believe him. We wouldn't be around otherwise. His story about heroic spirits and the Holy Grail was quite flattering, actually. Can you imagine we're one of these driving factors behind the world that keep it functioning?"
"Indeed. You certainly keep me functioning…" Robin playfully bantered back. Seeing Will scowl in impatience, however, he quickly added. "Just to be safe though…Will? Will you take the kid's sword and see if it's the real thing?"
Will Scarlet walked over to Excalibur and grasped its hilt. Closing his eyes, he flipped it into his hands as he tested for balance. Shiro watched in curiosity as Will examined, tossed and weighed the holy sword.
"What's he doing?"
"Well, dear, this is THE Will Scarlet you're seeing, remember? I haven't seen him ever goof up identification of any weapon. He's got a natural knack for it."
"So he's like a weaponsmaster something?"
"Something like that. C'mon, honey. Let's go and see what John's doing," Marian called to Robin, who nodded to her and turned to Shiro.
"I'm going ahead with Marian to gather the rest of the men. Will'll take you to our hideout."
With that, the two sprinted away. Shiro watched them for a moment, and then he turned his attention back to Will, who continued to flip the sword back and forth in his hands. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the rugged man dropped the blade onto the ground.
"About thirty five and a half inches long, four and three-fourth inches wide."
"That's right – how did you know without a ruler - "
"Blade's made out of the same materials that Sherwood's arrows are made from. Perfect balance and a razor sharp edge. Almost weightless as it can be easily wielded in one or both hands. Yup, this is the real thing," Will replied as he broke into a rare smile. "Sorry to doubt you there, kid, but we've been getting so much shit lately, with all the deaths and destruction we can't trust anyone at all. Period."
Handing Excalibur back to the redhead, Will hefted his longbow and placed it over his shoulders.
"C'mon. Let's go. Robin's probably waiting for us at the next intersection."
"You want me to go to England?" Sakura muttered. She couldn't believe her ears.
"Indeed! Miss Mato, you cannot doubt your own magical potential. Coming from a line of very powerful magi, you do know about your background, right - "
The Tabula Rasa bleeped in annoyance. If it had eyes, it would probably have glared at Locke caustically.
"Ah, apologies. I shouldn't be speaking of such things. Anyways, what I want you to do… is to find something that's extremely valuable to you and bring it here. Anything'll do, really."
"Why?" Sakura asked curiously. She wasn't sure about the enigmatic philosopher's intentions. Seeing her hesitation, Locke smirked.
"Shiro's ran into unexpected trouble in England. Since I cannot go myself – to do so would be against my beliefs, I'm going to send you in my stead. Plus, it'd be no good, since you need both a being from the current reality – I.E. You, Shirou, Rin, Ilya, and such and a heroic spirit to use the nodal fragments. Besides, I sense heroic qualities within you.
Again, Miss Mato, I apologize to thrust upon you this random option, but we really don't have a choice. I believe you are up to the task. What remains is whether or not you trust yourself enough to be up to it."
Sakura gasped in surprise. She never thought this man would see her as someone who was actually important. She had always been Sakura. Plain, old, Sakura. Always playing second fiddle to the universe.
"Please give me a moment," she called out as she rushed into her room. She had mixed feelings regarding this. She wasn't sure of herself, and she certainly didn't understand why she was excitedly going through her drawers to find something to complete Locke's request. Was it because she really wanted to be a hero? Was it because Shiro was in danger? Was it so that she could be with Shiro? Over the years, her feelings for Shiro have intensified. How many times did she want to tell him she loved him!
And yet, Shiro had eyes for only one person. That was Saber. Whatever feelings he had for Sakura cannot be compared for his feelings for the petite blonde. Sakura dug her way to the bottom of the drawer and found nothing that she could count as being special to her.
I want something that would represent Shiro…Something that would represent those qualities that I love.
Suddenly, an idea flashed into her mind as Sakura realized what she was looking for. Quickly sprinting out of the house, she dashed to the place where she first saw Shiro – the Archery Dojo. On that sunny afternoon, he was repeatedly jumping over a pole. The stubborn sight made her laugh, but she also admired the foolhardy boy for his determination in trying to complete a hopeless task.
She found the location easily. The dojo was still largely the same. The yellow paint was cracked and peeling, but she felt an aura of familiarity as she unscrewed the stick.
Perfect.
Sprinting back into the kitchen, she presented the item to John Locke, who blinked in surprise.
"What's this, Miss Mato?"
"Professor, this is my choice."
Locke grabbed the pole and it flashed around his hand for a moment, and then he returned it back to her.
"I am going to open up a second portal and land you in England. When you have materialized, grasp your object firmly and make a wish. Someone will be there to help you. Bear in mind, that once you have materialized, I will not be able to communicate with you. Do you have any questions before I send you off?"
"Who is this someone?"
"He'll be the man of your dreams," Locke laughed, seeing Sakura blush. "No, to be fairly honest, I don't know. But he'll be someone that you could depend on to help Shiro. Now, any more questions?"
Sakura shook her head. She was afraid and excited at the same time. Seeing her reaction, Locke gently patted her on the back before snapping his fingers. The Tabula Rasa blinked and a small circular disk of light appeared on the floor.
"No questions? Good. Alright. Godspeed!"
The last thing Sakura saw was Locke's smiling face as she faded away. Her senses became dulled and unfocused as the ether of magic wafted around her. Her vision faded; she was losing her sense of self and her very being seemed to be melting away. Panicked, she tried to scream, but no words came out.
Professor!! She silently thought.What's happening to me?
This is what dimensional travel feels like, said a small voice in her head as she breathed a sigh of relief. Soon, you'll be yourself again. Don't worry. It's a normal thing. Just go find Shiro. Need I remind you that the fate of the world rests on your tiny little -BEEP - can't you let an old professor make jokes for once without being interrupted? Sakura, Excuse me. I need to rewrite my ah, "Noble Phantasm." Half a second.
Wait! You didn't even tell me where Shiro was!
Well, shoot, why you didn't ask – Locke's response was suddenly cut off as Sakura regained her senses. Her body once again solid, Sakura surveyed her surroundings. It was evening, and the moon was just climbing into the skies. She was in the ruins of some manor house – judging from the ripped tapestries and the broken glass windows. From out the windows, she saw a wasteland, a land devastated by shadows and darkness. The only thing she heard was the howl of the wind as it breezed by, laughing at her and laughing at the world. An acrid smell lingered in the air.
Sakura gripped the stick tightly and closed her eyes. She was here for a reason. Having had no spellcasting experience, she wasn't even sure how this was supposed to work, but she figured as long as she followed instructions she should be alright. Just what did she want as a wish? She closed her eyes.
"I wish…" Sakura gently whispered to no one in particular. "For a knight in shining armor. I wish for someone who was gentle, kind, and determined like Shiro, who was always willing to try and never giving up."
Slightly embarrassed, she plunged the stick into the ground. Silently chiding herself for not making a more heroic wish, like for someone who was powerful, Sakura silently waited. The yellow stick in her hands glowed briefly as she held her breath, but when nothing happened, she continued.
"I wish for someone who will be devoted to me. I wish that I can find someone who will return my feelings back to me."
The yellow stick glowed brighter as its warm light temporarily banished the darkness and Sakura continued speaking.
"I wish for someone whom I can show my own feelings to. I wish that I can find someone who accepts me for who I am, and loves me."
A brilliant shower of light engulfed Sakura as she unconsciously yelped in surprise. A torrent of golden light poured out from the spot she was standing and dissipated as the wooden stick in her hands was consumed. The room returned to its original dark, silent state. She held her breath and waited tensely for something to happen, for someone to show up.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing is happening. Words cannot describe Sakura's disappointment and her grief as something inside of her threatened to burst. She had her hopes up for a moment, but …
Was this all a cruel joke?
Sakura sniffed. She was so disappointed. Was it her fault? Was it the fact that she was so inept at everything that she can't even handle a simple summoning like such? The only things she heard were her own small sobs and her tears dropping on the ground.
I can hear my tears falling onto the ground. Drip, drop; Drip, drop; Drip, drop; is this it? Am I doomed to be alone forever? Shiro, I can't understand you…Why can you not see how I feel about you? Are you blind?
As if the roof agreed with her, it wheezed in sympathy. Drip, drop, click; drip, drop, splat, groan, click. Splat, scree, splat, scree, click, drip. Sakura took some solace in the strange noises the roof was making. It made her feel better; it felt as if she wasn't alone. Yet she knew the feeling of loneliness all too well.
Scree, scree, scree, scree, the roof screeched as a piece of it dropped gently onto her head. Surprised, Sakura looked up. Even in the dim evening light, she noticed a crack forming. Suddenly, it broke open as something heavy fell through and plummeted in front of her. Thinking it was a piece of rubble, Sakura edged forward to get a better look. To her bewilderment, the "rubble" flipped itself into an upright position and started dusting itself off.
"Alas, I must work on my entrance."
The acrid smell in the air before was gone, replaced by a faint fragrance of roses. The speaker carried himself with an air of eloquence. He was wearing a dark green set of tights, complete with leather arm guards and long combat boots. His half gauntlets were grey like the half-dozen belts and his long leather chaps, which were bound tightly to his muscular body. Unlike Berserker, however, he was well-toned but slim. His movements were reminiscent of a leopard as there was something deeply sleek about the way he moved. The stranger knelt down and with one fluid motion swept out a blooming albeit slightly crumpled red rose and presented it to her.
"Greetings, m'lady! A fairer being never have I encountered. Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, at your service!"
Sakura was blushing furiously. She had never received flowers from anyone before. She was also not used to someone calling her beautiful.
"May I have the honor of learning your most beauteous name, m'lady?"
"Sakura. Sakura Mato."
Blue eyes met gold as the two gazed at the other..
Shiro breathed heavily as he tried to catch to Will. The outlaw's stride was long and he was having trouble keeping up, even with reinforcement.
"Hurry up, kid! Camp's only ten minutes' sprint from here!"
"Stop calling me kid, Will!" Shiro barked as he put more energy into his limbs. Will smirked.
"Kid, you gotta man up. Like I said, shit's gonna be happening soon, and you can't half-ass anything. Good job though, the camp's just up ahead."
Gritting his teeth, Shiro ran forward. After the hours of torturous jogging, it was extremely satisfying to see the campfire blinking in the distance. A giant of a man strode towards them, a huge grin on his face.
"Will! Little John was getting worried. He thought you guys had been am-bushed by the bad guys."
"Yeah, John. Nice to see you too. Is there still food left?"
"Yes! Little John saved two bowls for you guys. He knows you guys will be fa-mi-shed after running really far."
The outlaw camp had a warm and friendly atmosphere to it. Most of the outlaws were either talking, eating, or resting as they gathered around the fire. Will soon excused himself, explaining that he was on sentry duty with Little John. As Shiro approached the campfire, he found Robin waiting for him.
"Here you are," the guardian of Sherwood cheerfully handed him a spoon and a steaming bowl of stew. "It was Marian's turn to cook today. This is absolutely delicious."
Shiro took a sip. He liked the spicy taste to it. He thanked Robin and wolfed down the food. It was as if he hasn't eaten for an entire day. After replacing his bowl, he sat back down with the Merry Men and joined in their fellowship. Flagons of ale and cider were passed around as tales were swapped and jokes were told. Robin was an especially skilled storyteller as Shiro soon became enchanted by his words.
"So, you see…then the sheriff was passed out, roaring drunk, and I…"
A round of uproarious laughter. Friar Tuck cheered drunkenly as he poured himself a fourth tankard of ale.
"Marian? Should someone stop him? Won't he die from alcohol poisoning?" Shiro quizzically asked the girl sitting next to him, who was snug in Robin's lap and playing with a loose thread on Robin's shirt.
"Nah, dear, not really," Marian lazily replied. "Tuck can outdrink pretty much anyone. Plus, the ale's safer than water most of the time."
"…took out the rest of the king's guards and wheeled the wagon into the …"
Shiro watched in fascination as friar Tuck downed yet another tankard of ale.
"Marian, are you sure he's –"
"Shh. You're missing out on the good part."
Whatever the "good part" was, Shiro never found out. At that moment, a shrill whistle rang out in the air as everyone tensed up. Instantly, the camp was silent. Marian and Robin sprang to their feet as Robin motioned everyone. Two small specks can be seen as torches flickered wildly in the evening. They rushed out from the camp to meet the pair.
"Robin!" Will's hoarse voice called out. He and John were running at a brisk pace towards the camp. Behind them, a sea of torches can be seen as they were about half a mile behind them.
"John's stirred up shit. He shot some knight's horse. And now we've got a bunch of government men after us!"
"It wasn't Little John's fault!" John proclaimed loudly. "Robin tells Little John to always "Shoot first, ask questions after!"
"John, dear? You got that backwards." Marian nudged Little John as the men chuckled. Robin sighed and slapped his forehead.
"Buddy, she's right. You got that backwards again. And Will. For all your soldiering experiences, why didn't you extinguish your torch first, and THEN run?"
"….Shit. Haven't thought about that," Will muttered to himself as he glanced back nervously. The flames were only about two bowshots away and everyone could hear the clamoring.
"I'll handle this," Robin said. His expression lightened up as he watched his two downcast friends. "Don't worry. I've gotten us into worse trouble before, remember?"
Gesturing to everyone to keep their weapons down but at the ready, Robin leisurely strode forth to meet Little John's pursuer, who turned out to be a man in his late thirties. His short, cropped blond hair matched his livery, which was a hand grasping a golden cup. The knight was wearing silvery platemail and he held a two-handed mace in his hands. Mentioning for the rest of the warriors to stop, he walked towards Robin.
"Ho! Goodman. I am Sir Percival, and I am looking for a pair of thieving bandits who murdered my faithful steed without just cause. I see they are in your camp. Please release them to me so justice can be upheld!"
"Good sir," Robin replied. "You see, I can't do that. These men are part of my merry band, and I do not lord over them or control them in any means."
"In that case, Goodman, I seek to duel the two honorably in order to avenge my steed. Step aside please, and let me pass. As you see, we outnumber you, and clearly we have the advantage."
Percival's knights cheered as they raised their weapons and banged on their shields.
"But sir, you were trespassing in my lands…at night! My friends were being merciful, as they are both excellent shots. They could have peppered all of you with arrows if they wished, but Little John here only shot your horse as a warning. Surely, you can see that it was the rightful thing to do, and therefore justice?"
"I followeth not your logic - " Percival began to speak, but Marian impatiently cut him off.
"Can you please drop the high English? You're speaking to a bunch of normal people here, dear."
"As you wish, madam," Percival coughed. "As I was saying…"
Percival's words were suddenly interrupted as Robin tackled him and knocked them both onto the ground. A flux of shadows was at the place where he was standing five minute ago.
"Dark Arts!" Percival bellowed. "How dare you defile the lands of the Lady with your filthy magic?"
Raising his mace high above his head, he was about to jump on Robin when one of the knights broke ranks and held him back.
"Sir Percival, stop! Can't you see? We've bigger issues to fry at the moment! If that man hasn't knocked you out of the way you would have been on top of that!"
Percival paused in mid-motion as he withdrew his mace and watched the circle. A strange, giant shape was taking place. Even the most unversed in the magical arts knows what was happening: something bad was about to happen.
"More works of the unholy Grail! Ready yourselves, men!"
Turning to Robin and his band of outlaws, he knelt, with his weapon at rest.
"My humblest apologies for mistaken your good intentions."
Grinning, Robin pulled him back up.
"No problems, friend. Let us battle together - "
"Honey? I hate to interrupt your manly mansome speeches, but there's more on our plates?" Marian shouted to Robin as both of them turned to watch at the direction that she was pointing at. More fluxes appeared on the ground. Eight, nine, ten, eleven. Robin's heart sank as he realized that this was going to be difficult. He wasn't used to direct battles and engagements, preferring to always operate on his favor. Luckily for him, Percival was in his element.
"Galahad! Take the left flank," ordering the knight who just restrained him five minutes ago, Percival's clear voice rang out in the night.
"WHAT ISH?! AHHHHHHHHHH! ROHBIN! WE ISH GOING TO FIGHT?"
"Yes, Tuck. We're going to fight."
"Tor! Form a shield wall and cover our lightly armored allies! Lionel, Oswin, set pikes on our right! Garel, send someone back to the main camp to alert Lancelot. Everyone else, ready your weapons, pray for the Lady's blessings. Battle is upon us!"
The first of the monstrosities appeared. A good ten feet tall, it was a gigantic humanoid with a large club in its hands. With a deafening bellow to the heavens, it charged the line of knights.
"Ogres! Tor, break that shield wall and engage it in fishnet formation!"
To Shiro, the battle was chaotic as he was momentarily stunned. He wasn't sure what to do, seeing the eleven ogres rampaging through. Knights and outlaw fought side by side as they surrounded the monsters, hacking away at them with sword and spear. Most of the weapons bounced off their thick hides ineffectively, but here and there a few made their marks as they bit into the ogre's flesh. Seeing Sir Tor's group was the closest, Shiro ran two steps towards them, intending to help them, and suddenly remembered that he didn't have a weapon. Cursing, he dashed away from battle, back towards the main camp.
Excalibur was still at where he left it. Breathing a sigh of relief and promising to himself that he'll never let it out of his sight again, he picked it up. The sword felt right in his hands, but it was still icy cold. Intending to join the fight, Shiro ran back towards the action. It was then he noticed a lone figure standing on top of the hill.
She was facing the battle below with a completely apathetic mask on her face. Dark energies blazed from the tip of her sword as she directed those energies towards the monsters…which seemed to be fusing their cut flesh back together. Her hair, once shimmering blond in the moonlight took on a darker hue. Her vibrant green eyes now red, and her silvery armor stained in the deepest shade of obsidian, Saber directed the battle below.
Without a word, Shiro ran towards her as he began to scale the cliffs. He was going to talk to Saber or else die trying.
The battle was not going well. The Ogres were simply too big to be injured by their weapons. As Robin and Marian fought back to back, defending each other from a trio of giants, Galahad joined them in their fighting.
"Robin! This isn't going to work. We're barely scratching them!"
"I know, sir knight! We've got an idea though. I need you to hold them off. I'm calling some of my merry men!"
"What are you going to do?" Galahad yelled back, dodging the blow from an ogre and thrusting forward with his spear.
"Marian, dear, fetch me my pouch please!"
Marian sighed as she ran towards where they left the extra cache of items.
"Honey, you can't be serious about this…" She muttered as she tossed the small bag to her lover. Robin ignored her complaint and whistled. In a flash, Will, Little John and the drunken friar Tuck joined him as they stood in a straight line. "This is going to be embarrassing, isn't it?"
"Yup," Will responded. Sighing. "God. I don' t know why he makes us do this shit when we can just go about this like regular people. It's not like the lines are special anyways."
"John likes saying them lines!"
"Alright, guys. Now, are we going to take the fight to them, or what?"
"Right!" The group cried in unison.
Percival cursed his luck as he barely blocked a huge sweep from an ogre. With the five men gone from the formation, there were immediate holes in his lines. The monsters took the advance to crush yet another one of his knights with a two-handed slash.
"Robin. What in the Lady's name are you doing," he shouted angrily.
"Just trust me!" Robin yelled back as he held a small white horn up high. The faint scent of white wine can be smelt emanating from it. "Wind!"
"Fire!" Marian shouted as she stood next to Robin, thrusting forth her own item – a small goblet, its inner contents crimson with old red wine.
"Water!" Cried Little John enthusiastically as he hefted his huge beer barrel and dragged a reluctant Will forward. Will sighed, but nonetheless took out his wineskin, full of sweet mead and roared "Earth!" Behind them, the drunken friar piped as he hoisted his huge tankard. In a dramatic voice, he shouted out in his sonorous voice as the battlefield echoed.
"ALE!!"
With that cry, the group dumped the contents of their drinking vessels in unison, posing dramatically as knights and outlaw fought for their lives. Everyone paused for a moment and stared. The five of them were flexed in classical Greco-Roman poses and wouldn't be out of place in an art display somewhere. A few of the knights chuckled as they shook their heads, returning to their respective battles. As for Galahad, he was half convinced that they were mad. When nothing appears to be happening, he derisively snorted.
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Very, very funny. Sir Robin, what did you think that would have done, summon "Sir Planet" or to some similar effect?"
Galahad rapidly spun around on his lance as he turned to face his opponent. He needed to concentrate. Anticipating his opponent's movements, he lunged forward. To his surprise, he heard the ogre roar out in pain. Turning around, he narrowly avoided being swept by a huge tree branch as his jaw dropped in surprise.
The trees were alive. It was as if the forest responded to Robin's call. The vegetation itself attacked the unnatural creatures with root, leaf and branch.
"As a matter of fact, yes!" Robin and his band shouted. They were standing on top of a particularly stout oak. Its leaves brimmed with energy as distinct shapes popped out from its sides. First arms, then knobby joints, then hands. Rapidly clenching and unclenching its fists, the tree posed ridiculously with the men still on top. Its voice was strangely cheerful as its leaves and branches seemed to command the other trees as they surrounded each of the monsters and assisted the humans.
"By all your
powers combined…I am MOBILE FORTRESS: SHERWOOD!!"
"About damn time you got to here," muttered Will. "I didn't want to stick in that stupid flexed position for much longer. People were giving me funny looks."
"Mobile Fortress Sherwood does not like stale wine!"
"Yeah, whatever. You're here now, and that's what matters," Robin grinned as he hugged the treeman. "Two barrels of firewater if we all get out of this alive."
"Agreed."
With that, The "Mobile Fortress" smirked and casually smacked a Ogre. It flew like a ragdoll as it crumpled under the wooden warrior's mighty blow. The knights cheered. Some were laughing at the sight. Galahad himself wanted to laugh too, but he controlled himself as he ran forward to dispatch his opponent. However, to his surprise, the Ogre's wounds closed. Something from one of the cliffs was regenerating its wounds.
The battle has just begun.
Saber watched the battle impassionately.
So far, the battle was still in her favor. She had lost three of the eleven beasts conjured by the Grail, but her enemies have lost at least threescore men. Even with that mob of moving trees, the battle was still going her way.
Yes. Kill. Kill them all. Use their souls to power yourself. You can do anything you want.
She fed more of the life-spawning dark energy from the Rubicon into the monsters. However, this motion was detected by one of the knights, who waved and pointed at her from below. A hailstorm of arrows followed, but all bounced harmlessly away from the arcane barrier the Rubicon offered her. The knight with the short blond hair snarled and leapt on top of an ogre's club, and it flung him high into the air. Saber watched in fascination as he agilely rotated in midair and landed not too far from where she was at.
Percival charged into the clearing where she stood, his mace held high in both of his hands. Seeing her, his jaw dropped in surprise.
"My…my liege?"
The only answer he received was a sharp slash towards his chest. Diving out of the way, Percival brought his mace up to his chest – just in time to parry a second blow from Saber.
Kill him. He wasn't here to defend Camelot.
Ignoring the monsters below her, Saber turned to face her opponent. The Rubicon glowed eagerly as it refocused its energies. Without her source of healing, the ogres quickly fell to the combined actions of the disciplined knights and the minions of Sherwood.
"My liege, Arturia?! My king?" Percival screamed desperately as he parried yet a third blow with his two-handed blunt. Tears were streaming down his face as he realized that the lady in front of him was their beloved ruler, who even now attacked him ruthlessly.
"My liege, why are you doing this? Have you been possessed? Have you forgotten the vows we made to you on the Table Round?"
Saber shook her head. Emotionlessly, she stabbed at Pervical who sidestepped out of the way. The blond knight was fast, but he cannot keep on the defensive forever. The next attack tore a large gash into his side as he staggered slightly and continued, his mace still in a defensive posture.
"My liege, our lives and blades are still at your command. Do not make us dishonor ourselves by taking up arms against you!"
Another slash, another sidestep. Percival wasn't sure how long he'll be able to keep this up, but he would die before giving up.
Below the two, Robin has dispatched an ogre by himself as he deftly slashed its jugular and watched it topple onto the ground. Behind him, Marian and her group filled another with arrows. It roared and tried to charge at them, but Galahad swept at it with his lance and it fell, where it was instantly torn apart by the trees. Nodding to the younger knight in satisfaction, Robin looked up…
…And he winced at the sight. A bloodied and battered Percival was dodging strikes from a young woman clad entirely in black.
"Shit, Robin. That guy's getting his ass handed to him," Will commented to Robin, who was pulling back his bow and squinting with one eye. "We should go help him."
"I know. I know, but we can't shoot at him. We might hit Percival. We can't really do anything. None of us can fly…"
Sighing, he put his longbow down.
"At this stage…we can't really tell."
Meanwhile, Shiro had climbed up the cliff and was even now watching the duel. He saw Saber and Percival fight. Yet he wasn't sure what to do. He knew that Saber was no longer on the "good side," but he was unable to bring it to herself to strike her. Anxiety gnawed at him as he didn't even know which side he was supposed to root for. On one hand, he wants Percival to win. On the other hand, he hopes Saber wouldn't be hurt from this battle…
Percival was a skilled combatant, but his dueling skills were severely hampered by the fact that he was unwilling to attack the girl who still commanded his loyalty and admiration. Now, he was bleeding from no less than eighteen different locations. a particularly nasty gash on his forehead made him slightly light-headed. But he fought on. A defensive battle he knew he was destined to lose.
"My liege! Can you hear me? Do you not remember the dreams we all had?"
Saber looked at him coldly. Suddenly, her expression softened for a millisecond. It was gone as soon as it came. Hopeful, Percival yelled again. The action was painful, but he knew it was worth it.
"My liege! Remember the Lady of the Lake? Remember Camelot? Remember us, your knights?"
Saber slowed slightly in her advance. She paused as her sword dropped limply to the ground.
"My liege! Do you remember … the ideals we once fought for?" Percival smiled. He was feeling dizzy from the loss of blood, yet he continued.
Ideals.
Ideals. Something about that word rang in Saber's mind.
Ignore it. He is trying to trick you.
No.
She remembered. She remembered all the things she and her knights worked for. She remembered the dreams they had of a peaceful realm. Suddenly, her mind was clear. The power of the Rubicon was demolished and shoved back to a far corner in the back of her mind. Once again, she was Saber, Arturia, the Once and Future King. The darkness on her armor and hair faded and once again a strand of hair perked up and her plate mail returned to their silvery coloration.
"Percival?"
"My liege!" Percival joyously proclaimed as he saw his ruler's eyes turn from blood red back to their usual shade of green. He ran forth towards her, but he was stopped as Saber lifted her hand and told him to pause.
"Percival. Stay away. I am not myself," Saber calmly spoke. She felt so empty. So dishonorable after all the things she has done.
"I am not worthy of being called your liege. In a moment of weakness, I have turned against my ideals and dreams. This weapon I hold right now…controls me. I cannot overcome it. Percival. Leave. I fear we do not have much time left."
"Nonsense, my liege. We will help you overcome - " Percival ended in mid-sentence as he noticed the sudden change in her demeanor. She looks pained, as if something was struggling inside of her. The darkness slowly returned as shadows danced and weaved around her.
"No…no, Percival. Leave. Get…away…"
Pulling the Rubicon out, Saber slashed at him. She had enough control of herself to make it miss, but only by half a feet. Due to the force of her strike, the Rubicon was deeply thrust into the ground.
"My liege!" Percival shouted. "You can fight it."
His words echoed across the enchanted woods as Saber struggled, her hands inching closer to the sword. She opened and closed her hand several times, but finally closed her mailed fist over it.
"Flee, Percival. I am lost." Saber shook her head sadly as she pulled the sword back into a combat position. "I am bound to it because of my sins and guilt. I am no longer the knight I once was."
Percival tried to speak, but his voice came out as a gurgle as the Rubicon pierced his chest. His mace dropped from his powerless fingers as he collapsed. He wheezed in pain as he crumpled on the ground. Saber stepped over his gasping figure, ready to deliver the finishing blow. The part of her that was still Saber could only watch in heart-wrenching pain as she was about to become the executioner for one of her own knights. The Rubicon whistled downward…
And was parried by another sword. A clang rang out across the clearing as Shiro Emiya intercepted the blow.
"Shiro?"
"Saber! You can't do it! I won't let you kill him!" Shiro screamed. He had finally picked a side.
"This isn't you. This is that sword you're holding. The Saber I know and love will never do such a thing!"
"Shiro. Leave. This is a knight's battle. I can still fight!" Percival called out weakly from the ground.
"Are you joking? Your chest is bleeding!"
As if he just noticed that the wound was there and it was painful, Percival stared.
"Tis only a flesh wound."
"…"
Shiro could make no comment in regards to the knight's words. A coughing fit racked Percival's body as he spat out a small amount of blood.
"Alright, sir. You may be right. Tis more than just a flesh wound."
Saber laughed. A dark, sinister laugh. Her malevolent voice chilled Shiro to the bone.
"How touching…boy. What are you going to do? Fight her? I mean, fight me? I'm in control of her body. Look at you. You don't even know how to hold that sword properly…"
"Maybe so. But I'll stop you, and I know I can! Shiro Emiya never backs down from anything, and he isn't about to do so now!"
"Shiro…" Percival whispered to him on the ground. "Do not die here with me. I go soon to the Lady of the Lake."
"No. I made the mistake of letting someone die already. I'm not making that same mistake again." Shiro calmly replied. Seeing his resolve, Percival smiled weakly.
"You are a true knight, Shiro Emiya." The knight's breathing grew fainter and fainter as the world threatened to fade out. Saber laughed again.
"Pitiful. You want to challenge me with that? Excalibur?"
"Yes," Shiro responded. There was such fire in his eyes that it made even the possessed Saber take a step back. Roaring a battlecry, he smashed at Saber with Excalibur. She easily dodged his clumsy attack. Shiro may have been a decent combatant, but he stood no chance against Saber's swordsmanship. With one single sweep, she knocked Shiro to the ground and Excalibur from his hands. Laughing, she gestured and knocked Shiro onto a black, horizontally raise platform. Chains shot from the ground, binding him in place. She moved back and began to advance from three hundred paces away.
"Prepare to see my power. See how I can twist and bend reality as I see fit? I feed upon guilt and dishonor. These chains that are binding you are the same that are binding her to me…"
Shiro said not a word, but instead continued his struggles. Black ichor splattered onto his face as he screamed in pain. But he continued to try to break away from the chain.
"Still going at it? Those chains are unbreakable. Why bother?"
Saber began running at a brisk pace, intent on running him through. She was fifty paces away from him.
"Because," Shiro gritted his teeth as he once again unsuccessfully pulled at the chains that bound him in place. She was now thirty pieces away.
"I don't believe in quitting." Looking Saber straight in the eye, he answered. As their eyes met, he tried to let his emotions and feelings seep through. Her eyes widened for a moment, as if she heard him. But now, at twenty paces, she had built up too much momentum to stop. The Rubicon shone with unholy power in the moonlight.
"This may be the last chance I have with you…so I'll tell you it now."
Fifteen paces.
"Saber, I love you."
Ten paces.
"And I still believe in you…believe in your dreams."
Saber felt a part of her, the part that belonged to her reawaken and receive power. She concentrated as she shook her subconscious, trying to purge the demon from within. She sensed herself. She also sensed the Rubicon. It was ….afraid?
I am your master. It whispered. I am your master. I am your master. Your master your master your master.
I'm not going to give up! She shouted silently.
I am your master! You will bend to my will!
No.
Tears freely fell from Saber's face as she broke free. Nodding, she saw the lightened up expression in Shiro's eyes and shared with her love a moment of empathy and mutual understanding. Something in his voice freed her from the malicious powers of the sword. Now, she was Saber again. And she will do what she need to do. Just as Merlin did the very same for her.
Shiro. I may not be able to save myself. But I will save you.
With all of her strength, she used her own momentum as she took the cursed sword…
And reversed the direction of the blade. Shiro screamed. A deep, hellish howl as he watched Saber plunge the Rubicon into her own chest. She bowled into Shiro as blood splattered over him and the bonds suddenly disappeared. Like hissing steam, the dark energy left Saber as it tried to find a different host. Both of them fell onto the ground.
Shiro was still screaming. Saber threw aside the Rubicon, which glowed with a black aura and slowly picked up Excalibur. She was serene and accepting as she steadied herself, blood flowing from her deep wound.
"Foolish girl…" The Rubicon whispered. "What are you going to do?"
"Destroy you." Closing her eyes, Saber concentrated. Excalibur shone in the night air as its light was fierce. The Rubicon whispered again, but this time, it was unsure.
"In your state, you know I cannot be destroyed…"
"Perhaps," Saber smirked. A confidence smile appeared on her bloodstained lips. "But nothing prevents me from trying."
Holding Excalibur with both of her hands, she closed her eyes. In front of her was the solidified version of all of their wishes and dreams. She was facing one who wants to destroy it. That was unforgivable. Excalibur glowed with transcendental energy as a beam of light surged forth.
"Excalibur – the Sword of Promised Victory!!"
A thunderous explosion occurred as the Rubicon flashed dangerously. Its dark energies were overcome by the light generated by Excalibur. Bit by bit, the cursed weapon began disintegrating. The gemstones cracked as the rune writings became incoherent. Shrieking, it vanished from sight as Saber dropped Excalibur. With a small thud, she fell to the ground. Her eyes were closed and her lips were ashen.
"SABER!!" Crawling over to her side, Shiro wept as he took her in his arms. To his great relief, her green eyes fluttered open as he called her name.
"Shiro." Saber whispered, smiling weakly. She took a gauntleted hand and gently caressed his cheek.
"Don't cry. I am… alright."
The gauntleted hand was stained crimson.
"No…. SABER, NO! YOU …." Shiro was no longer capable of being coherent as he buried his face in Saber's hair. For once, his optimism died. She was cold. Colder than Excalibur. The light in her eyes were fading. Her breathing was labored and by God…there was so much blood…
So much blood…
"Shh. Shiro. I am alright…really…I just …need…rest…"
The gauntleted hand slowly went limp as it fell onto the ground.
Shiro's despairing wail was soul-rending as he unleashed his agony. But nothing he say or do could make his true love reopen her eyes. Saber's outline grew hazy. Tiny glitters of golden light appeared and faded away as her body faded away into the night air. The hilt of Excalibur winked in the starlight and a gentle whisper can be heard as those shining sparks that were once Arturia Pendragon, The Once and Future King vanished towards some unknown horizon.
Avalon…All is a distant utopia…
