Prologue
The New Star
In the forest, far from the battlefield, a knight rested his king beneath a tree.
"Bedivere."
Surprised, the knight knelt next to the one resting. "Your highness!? Have you regained your consciousness!?"
A faint voice answered. "…Yes. I was watching a dream."
That voice—it warmed the knight from within. Despite the grievous wound the king had taken, it still held a vitality that gave the knight hope. "A dream?"
"Yes. I have not had many dreams, so it was a wonderful experience."
"…But that is wonderful. Please then, be at ease and rest once again. I shall gather the troops while you continue."
A gasping sound, as if what the knight said was entirely unexpected.
"Your highness? Have I been rude?"
The king's voice was quiet, not due to the wound, but from the consideration of the knight's words. There was a sense of wonder to it. "No. I was merely surprised. I did not know a dream could be seen after one awakens. Are you saying I will be able to see the same dream if I close my eyes again?"
It was the knight's turn to be surprised. He stuttered, but replied even though he knew it was a lie. "Yes. If you strongly desire so, you should be able to continue watching the same dream. I have had that experience as well."
Such a thing is not possible. What happens only once and not continuously is what people call a dream. But the knight lied in spite of that.
The king murmured appreciatively. "I see. You are knowledgeable, Bedivere." The king's head remained lulled despite this, not looking up at the knight, eyes staring at the ground next to the tree.
Everything has ended. Chaos in this country would still continue. The battle will not end at just this, and the day of ruin will come around soon.
But the battle of the king has ended. He—no, she has fulfilled her duty until the very last moment.
…The light disappears.
Finishing her task, has her last strength disappeared from her body?
"I am sorry, Bedivere. This sleep will be… a… long—"
As if going to sleep slowly, she gradually closed her eyes. The morning sunlight filled the area. The forest stood there quietly, and the king went into a long sleep.
The knight kept watch over her figure. The king that he wished for. A lonely king that was sent off by just one knight. But—her face was what he wished for. A peaceful sleep.
In her last moments, the king obtained the peace she was never able to obtain before. He was happy about that fact, if nothing else. The knight thanked whoever has given her peace and proudly watched over his king.
"Are you watching, King Arthur…?" His murmur rode through the wind.
As if sinking into the endless blue, the king that went to sleep…
"…the continuation of the dream?"
…Sees a distant, distant dream.
Many years later.
In the mild cold of a Syrian winter, amidst insurgents and freedom fighters, mercenaries and death merchants, he settled in to rest. The lull between fighting had grown long enough for everyone to manage a midday sleep.
Strangely, he found himself thinking of that nostalgic sword. A sudden thought.
Gold and shining, unsullied, a sign of changing fate simply by drawing it from the earth.
It resided in her memories.
It defeated many enemies.
It broke when she sacrificed yet another part of herself for those she served.
It was remade to save them both once more.
However, he cannot recall the correct procedure, can hardly remember the strength of that time. That task he once studied every night, now gone away and replaced by the skills he now wielded.
Even the face of the one who held that blade aloft had faded to but a ghost of a recollection.
Memories fade far away with time. The feelings he had a lifetime ago were out of his reach.
It is already something in the past. That was only natural.
Only fifteen days told the story of when they encountered the Grail.
