Chapter 2: Disguised Identity

"Damn… why does… this feel so… familiar," Shirou pants between breaths. Between fighting Kirei and carrying Illya back all the way home from the temple, he's completely spent. Carrying her normally wouldn't have been a problem on its own—she's pretty light—but because she'd yet to regain consciousness, her body is effectively dead weight. It's dead weight, just like when…

"Saber," he realizes. "This is just like what happened when she ran off alone and passed out at the temple… I still can't protect anyone when I need to most. Saber returned to her death, Illya might never wake up at this rate, and Tohsaka… Tohsaka!"

His sudden recollection of what Kirei had done to her gives him a burst of energy, so he breaks into a run and sets Illya on the tatami mat in the room she'd been staying in before continuing to Rin's room. She'd said she stabilized herself before he and Saber made it home, and the two of them had bandaged her and left her to rest in her room before they went off to the final battle, but that was hours ago—her condition easily could've worsened in the time it took him to return.

"Tohsaka!" he yells as he makes it to her door and throws it open, revealing an empty room. Well not quite empty; her bloodied clothes are lying on the floor, which must mean—

"Behind you," comes her voice as she taps on his shoulder, making him jump in surprise. He turns to find her in a fresh change of her usual outfit. "I was in the dining room and heard you barge down the hall," she continues, and she seems to notice the shock on his face. "What, did you expect me to just lay around in bed, waiting for you to come back? I'm not some kind of invalid, I told you that I took care of my own wounds. I guess I should thank you or Saber for bandaging me up, though." Her expression softens, her words bringing her to a realization. "So… she's gone, then?"

"Yeah," he manages to respond. "We beat Kotomine and Gilgamesh, and then I ordered her to destroy the Grail. After that, we only had a moment left together and then she told me—err, and then she disappeared," he says, stopping himself from revealing Saber's last words. Having Rin know about his feelings is one thing, but he shouldn't share Saber's with her. She'd always tried to hold back her emotions as much as possible; revealing such a private confession just wouldn't feel right.

"She told you…" Rin mutters, clearly trying to figure out what Shirou had tried to hold back from her. After a few seconds a grin spreads across her face. "So—she finally admitted it?"

"—! …How…?"

"I've told you before, you're easy to understand. Her feelings for you have been obvious for a while, but I guess it took both of you a while to realize. She smiled when you smiled, the night after your date you…" She pauses for a moment, considering something as her smug grin widens further. "…'rested' together… Neither of you were exactly subtle, Emiya-kun."

"Her smile… Issei said the same thing last week," he replies, ignoring her second comment. He's not giving her the satisfaction of a response to that—though clearly his face missed the memo, seeing as he can feel his cheeks warm as they turn a bright red.

"If even Issei could tell, the two of you really must have been the only ones who couldn't, huh?" Her grin falls away, a new sincerity coming into her eyes. "I'm sorry, Shirou. I'm sure knowing that this was coming didn't make it any easier."

"No, I'm… I'm fine. This was… for the best. I—"

He's interrupted by Rin pulling him into an awkward hug, tears beginning to pool in his eyes. It's clear that she has little experience with this kind of thing and she seems quite uncomfortable, but the gesture still helps.

"Shirou, you said it yourself: 'when people die, you're sad.' It's okay to show emotion sometimes, you idiot. You don't need to hold yourself back like you always do."

"I… I love her, Tohsaka. I love her so much it hurts. Even knowing I'll never see her again, all I can think of right now is a future together. I want to be with her more than anything else, but she… she's gone," he chokes out as tears begin to stain her shirt.

Artoria stretches as she reawakens from yet another night of dreaming of the war. Wasting no time, she immediately sets about her routine; she drinks from the river, eats a small portion of her scavenged food, shadowboxes with her sword, and bathes in the river. With that over with, it's time to really get to work.

She heads over to the bundle containing the deer's corpse with one of the knives she'd taken from the battlefield. Using the knife she begins sawing at the base of one of the deer's antlers, and eventually it jerks free in a jagged split. She does the same with the other antler, and soon the body is ready for easy—well, easier—transport. It's still a bulky animal, especially for someone as short as she is, but with the antlers gone it's not quite as unwieldy, and her core gives her more than enough strength to carry it. Everything else is prepared, so she quickly changes into the hunting outfit she'd put together yesterday, sets her sword in a sheath on her belt, and slings the bundle over her shoulder. It's time to head off to the village.

She travels to the battlefield first, using it as a landmark to orient herself for the trek to the village itself; she'd already scouted the way there, after all. Once she's reached it she heads north to the road, and this time she decides to walk down it rather than through the woods alongside it. The awkwardness of the bundle could make traversing the dense forest cumbersome, and if she was spotted leaving the woods with a bag like this she'd surely draw attention to herself. No, it's better to just use the road and hope anyone who might happen by pays little attention to her.

That's not to say she's given up on avoiding risk, though. She throws up her hood when she sets off down the road and turns her head downwards, while leaving her sheathed sword clear to see. Keeping a low profile should cause passersby to not pay her a second glance and leaving her sword in plain sight should make her look less approachable to anyone who does take a second glance.

But after around two hours, the road has proved to be strangely quiet, with her not encountering anyone else—she's not about to complain about that, though. Soon enough the density of the forest bordering the road drops further and further, and she finds the village's entrance just to the north. She sees rows of huts, fields for farming, a far off castle on a distant hill, a bridge over a river… essentially, everything she'd expected to find.

For a moment she simply stands and stares, unsure of herself. What if she took some kind of action that would change things and cause the future to be wildly different? Shirou might never meet her in the fifth war—he might not even exist. This is the first time she's had to act as a fellow man to these people since before she drew Caliburn decades ago; can she really trust herself to not make some kind of mistake and ruin everything?

She takes a deep breath to calm herself, pushing her doubts to the back of her mind. Like it or not, she needs to do this if she hopes to survive the winter, if she hopes to reunite with her beloved. After readjusting her bag on her shoulder, she takes her first steps into ordinary society in a very long time.

Well, perhaps ordinary society isn't quite right. Signs of life are all around—well cared for livestock, fields showing signs of a recent harvest, upkept buildings and infrastructure, a certain stench in the air—and yet, she doesn't see a single person. There's no way the people of the village could've been silently wiped away, so there must be some reason for them to be staying in at the moment. Whatever that reason is, so long as the butcher is operating it's really a benefit for her. Being seen by as few people as possible is ideal, so if nobody's out on the streets then the only person she needs to worry about is the butcher themself, and anyone they happen to be with at the moment. All that's left to do is to actually find it.

She begins scouring the village, prioritizing the outskirts; in her experience, slaughterhouses are typically positioned near pastures for easy transport of livestock and meat, and pastures are often towards the edges of villages. Rather than a butcher, the first building of note she comes across is one with a sign displaying a bed alongside barrels: perhaps an inn or tavern? She stores the location in the back of her mind for later.

Not long after that she finally stumbles upon a building with a sign displaying a large knife, a strong smell of meat coming from it; this must be what she's been looking for. She readies herself for a final time, steps up to the door, and swings it open to reveal a large, muscular man with thick red facial hair fast asleep as he leans on the counter.

"Ah… hello, sir?" She calls out, awakening the man with a jolt.

"Huh?" He mumbles, rubbing his eyes as he slowly comes to his senses. "Oh, err… welcome. Apologies m'lord, didn't expect anyone t'be coming out today. Though… can't say I recognize you, and I know everyone and their mum 'round here. You new to Aileniburg?"

That's right, the village is named Aileniburg—the name had slipped her mind all this time. "Yes, I am a traveler passing through. You said you did not expect anyone to visit today; why is that, ah…"

"M'name's Cig, the butcher 'round here if you hadn't gathered as much. A traveler, huh? Yeah, that'd explain yer getup." He gestures at the hood still covering her face. "Well then, haven't been keeping up with the news out on the road, eh? There was a huge battle 'round here recently. The knight who survived—think he said his name was Bedivere—came through a month ago to the day on his way back t'Camelot with news of the outcome. All that death… I'd been expectin' everyone t'be at home mournin' the anniversary, but I guess things'd be different for people like you. Anyway, what's yer name, lad?"

She freezes. The news that she died exactly a month ago is useful to her, but that's not what's important right now. What's important is that, in all her planning for this moment, she had never thought about a new alias to go by.

"Oh… err… my name is Artur." She feels like slapping herself—Artur? Why the hell would she blurt out a name so similar to her original alias? Well, that can't be helped now; she'll have to live with it for the time being.

"Hah! Artur, eh? Well, I suppose it must be fate you got here today, then. Who can say if it's a good or bad sign though, eh? Maybe we won't be spared after all. Anyway, welcome, Artur. What's a lad like yerself doin' here?" His eyes follow the rope over her shoulder to the bundle hidden behind her. "You've got somethin' for me, I take it?"

"As I have said, I am a simple traveler. I was hunting and had an extra kill, and as I was already in the area I decided to sell it rather than let it go to waste, nothing more than that."

"Well if it's meat yer lookin' to sell or buy, yer lookin' in the right place. Bring'er here, lad." She walks to the counter, sets her bundle upon it, and unties the rope to reveal the meat to Cig. Looking at his face, she finds his eyes wide at the sight. "Well well, look what we have here. You take this beauty down yerself, lad? And it was extra?" His amazement feels genuine and yet simultaneously exaggerated; he must already be working up to price negotiations.

"Yes, I travel alone. Pardon me, but I do not wish to discuss personal matters. I would appreciate it if we could conclude our business as quickly as possible so I may be on my way."

"…Social one, ain't you? Just tryin' t'make small talk, didn't mean any offense. Yer the first t'come in here today and probably the last, so I was just tryin' t'fight the boredom. Just give me a minute t'inspect it and I'll tell you how much I'll pay."

After a nod of acknowledgement she walks back towards the entrance, standing tall next to the door. She watches Cig as he runs his hand all around the corpse, feeling out various pieces of it presumably to get a feel for the meat's quality. As he does so, he mutters under his breath with wide eyes; despite not being able to make out words, she can tell he's genuinely impressed. Despite herself, she takes pleasure in knowing that her skill was great enough to drive a reaction like this from him. Eventually he looks satisfied and stands up straight, beckoning her back over to him.

"Incredible. I'll be honest, usually I try'n lowball strangers like you—but I'm not riskin' losin' this fella, it could last me a month. How'd you manage t'kill it like this? There's no sign of any struggle at all, whatever you did to its head killed it instantly." Not giving in to his questioning, she maintains her poker face. "Yeah yeah, you don't wanna talk 'bout yerself. Just makin' smalltalk again, don't worry." He turns to grab a pouch, begins filling it with coins, and eventually sets it on the counter. "This is my offer, and it's a generous one. So much quality meat is worth a nice sum, and there's somethin' 'bout you that makes me wanna treat you well. Well, I suppose yer off, then?"

She grabs the bag and pauses for a moment, considering what else he could do for her. "Actually, I have one other thing I would like to ask about."

"Thought you wanted to 'conclude our business quickly?' Well, go ahead, lad."

"I am looking for tools for maintaining my blades. I presume you use whetstones for sharpening knives; do you happen to have a spare?"

"Yeah, I should have one 'round here somewhere—never got 'round to gettin' rid of my old one. Just gimme a minute, I'll try'n find it." He rummages around in the area behind the counter, his movements accompanied by various clanks and crashes, and eventually finds what he was looking for and sets the whetstone down. "I wasn't usin' it anyway, so how 'bout I give you it and you promise to come back again sometime?"

"Yes, that sounds fair," she determines. Really, it works out perfectly—this village is by far the easiest for her to access from her camp, so she'd planned on doing that anyway. If he pays as much for future deer as he did for this one, then it should only take her selling a few more to cover what she estimates to be the cost of a stay at the inn over the winter. Actually… the amount he paid for it seems almost absurd. "Pardon me for asking, but this much money… was that deer really so valuable to you?"

"Hah! Well, I'll be honest. After our agreement it doesn't really matter, but I was hopin' that if I paid you well enough you'd come back with another kill like this. It's rare for me t'see such a beautiful specimen, so if there's a chance for you to bring me more, I'm gonna take it. Somethin' like that, anyways—I'm not entirely sure myself. See ya later, lad."

"Thank you, Cig. I shall take my leave now." She turns to exit the building, mentally kicking herself for making someone take interest in her—things won't end well if he ends up attached. But as she walks through the empty streets, she realizes that this might turn out to be a good thing; for now she needs to focus on survival, and if she has someone willing to pay her so much for relatively little work then surviving the winter shouldn't be a large hurdle. Upon eventually returning to the village's entrance, she takes one last look at Aileniburg before setting back off to her camp.

"Cig mentioned the village being spared… with the nearby battle, the residents must have feared being used for supplies—with my manner of rule, that is only natural. Although… if I were truly hated by them, they would likely be celebrating, not mourning; I suppose their feelings cannot be reduced to simple love or hatred. Regardless, Shirou was right. I would have been foolish to betray these people by stopping myself from having ever served them. Even if they truly hated me with their entire beings, I would not regret serving them. Not anymore."

She turns back to the road and sets out along it, beginning work on future plans. One month from her death places today in early October, so she should have about a month and a half before she needs to be prepared for a harsh climate based on previous years. If she were to return to Cig in about a month, enough time should have passed for her guise as a traveler to not be seen through.

It's settled, then: in one month, she will return.

After her visit to the village, the days begin to blur together out of their similarity. Each night she dreams of the start of the war, each following morning she performs her morning routine, and each afternoon she returns to sleep. There are only two real variations in her pattern; from time to time she needs to go out and gather more food, and the day after her visit to Aileniburg she spent some time sharpening her sword with her new whetstone. But other than that? No day is different from another in any meaningful way.

Without days being distinguishable to any relevant degree, she turns to other methods of measuring the passage of time. Environmental conditions are one such manner; trees gradually bear fewer leaves, the chill becomes greater and greater, she spots more and more animals scurrying around with food to bring to their hoard. Beyond that, she also has her own appearance. While her body froze in time the instant she drew Caliburn and again when Vivian gave her Excalibur and Avalon, her hair had continued to grow. With it being several months since she last had her hair trimmed, it's beginning to become quite long.

So after a few weeks, she decides enough is enough. She ties her hair into a ponytail and cuts it to just above her shoulders with a knife. It wasn't done evenly and looks like a jagged mess, but that actually might be a good thing, if anything; someone traveling alone would be unlikely to have a clean haircut, so it should help her sell her disguise if anyone were to get a clear look at her head.

Eventually almost an entire month goes by, and she decides it's about time for her to go on a second hunt. Knowing how long it took her to get a kill the first time, she skips her morning training and instead immediately prepares in the same manner she had on the first go. She changes into her hunting garb, walks away from her camp to find some form of cover, and, aided by the heavy cloud cover, camouflages herself as best she can.

She begins intently watching her surroundings and prepares to be stuck in place for several hours, but a deer appears much quicker this time. It takes only around an hour for a doe to enter her sights, about fifty yards out. With it being a doe she hesitates for a moment—not out of sentimentality, but because she knows a doe is likely to fetch less than a buck—but that feeling quickly fades. Creeping her hand towards her sword's hilt, she again pools power from her core in her legs.

The lion strikes with the same speed she showed during her first hunt, the deer's life ending in an instant.

Like the hunt itself, its aftermath follows the same procedure as before. She quickly returns to camp, cleans her blade of blood and guts, and hurries back to the corpse to bundle it. Upon returning to camp with the bundle, she heads out to the river to bathe. By now she's become accustomed to the cold water, but she still doesn't know how to swim and thus doesn't go very deep. She's tempted to try to teach herself how, but that can wait; it might not be the wisest decision, but she'd rather save things like that for when she reunites with Shirou.

Once she's washed herself, she makes her way back to camp again and considers heading out to Aileniburg then and there; it's still fairly early in the afternoon, so if she hurries she should be able to make it there and back before nightfall. But after some debate, she decides to just wait another day. Having as much time as possible would be for the best in case she meets any unforeseen snags, and with the heavy cloud cover she'd have nothing to light her way if she's unable to make it back to camp before sundown. Instead she simply lies down in her clearing and returns to sleep, unwilling to take unnecessary risks like that.

Like usual, the next morning she awakens from the dream she'd been having for nearly a month straight. At this point, she could nearly give a play-by-play of the events of that night from memory. Now that she thinks about it… at this point she's definitely seen Shirou more in her dreams than when she was awake, and it's only been one month out of tens of thousands ahead of her.

But no, she can't let herself dwell on that. She begins her routine to take her mind off the matter, skipping her usual training just as she had yesterday; lugging that unwieldy bundle all the way to Aileniburg is enough exercise on its own, so she'd prefer to have that time as a buffer in case she runs into any difficulties. After bathing she changes into her hunting garb, slings the bundled corpse over her shoulder, and sets off to return to the village.

For around half an hour she silently trudges down the road, but she eventually spots something in the distance that makes her momentarily falter. Far down the road is the silhouette of a man riding in her direction on horseback. Her first instinct is to run into the woods to avoid any risk of contact, but that idea is more likely to just make things worse at this point. With the rider's height advantage, he likely spotted her well before she saw him—hiding in the woods now would just draw more attention to her. Simply being seen shouldn't be a major danger anyways, at least for now.

As the distance between them closes, she begins to make out more details of the silhouette. The horse seems to be armored—the rider is likely a knight, then. What reason could a knight have for venturing out this way, though? Whatever their reason is, she's definitely glad she didn't try to hide in the woods. Being seen in general is no issue, but being seen by someone who recognized her certainly would be. Any knights who remain are definitely more likely to recognize her than any common man, so if her sudden disappearance from sight spurred on a search and she was discovered things could have gone south quickly. All she needs to do now is avoid giving him any reason to pay her any attention.

The distance closes further and she's able to make out even more details. The knight's gear indicates that they're either low ranked or poorly equipped due to the chaos. The latter would mean little for her, but the former would definitely be a good thing. A knight who fought alongside her for long periods of time, such as Bedivere, would likely be able to identify her based on her mere mannerisms and demeanor, but a less experienced knight like this one appears to be would certainly need more.

Their gap closes almost completely, and she lowers her head to avoid any chance of showing her face to them. She prays they don't stop to interact at all, and her prayer is answered when they pass by without even slowing, the echoes of clopping hooves fading off into the distance. A disaster averted, she lets out a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding—it seems the encounter had her more on edge than she realized.

After walking for a while longer, she finally reaches the village entrance. Looking in, she finds that there are actual people populating the streets this time, seemingly going about their usual business. She can't allow them to concern her, though. Once she's steadied herself, she walks into the village.

"—he carryin'?"

"How'd—"

"—strangers…past few—"

Conversations between the villagers surround her, and most of them seem to be centered on her arrival. Becoming the center of attention like this is something she'd feared, but it seems to have been unavoidable; all she can do is limit it as much as possible. She hastens her pace and goes directly towards Cig's shop, tuning out the conversations on her way—she has no need to listen to gossip.

Once she's off the central street of the village the crowd greatly diminishes, which in turn leaves fewer people discussing her. By the time she nears the slaughterhouse there's only a few scattered people around, none of which seem to be paying her much heed. She soon reaches the building, adjusting the bundle on her shoulder to free one of her hands as she stands in front of it. Grabbing the handle and opening the door, she finds the butcher behind the counter with his back to the door, seemingly wiping a knife with a rag.

"Welcome!" he exclaims, pivoting to face the new arrival. When he sees who it is, a wide grin spreads across his face. "Artur, that you? Good t'see you lad, been a while."

"Yes, hello Cig," she responds, pulling the bundle in front of her. "I am here for business again, as we agreed. I presume you are willing to pay?"

"'Course I am! If this one's good as the first, I'd almost be willin' t'pay just t'feel it." He clears an area of the counter and she sets down the bundle, untying it to reveal the body within. "Ah, a doe this time. A touch disappointin' if I'm honest, but I'm sure the skill of the kill'll make up for it," he says, beginning his inspection.

She has no idea how he can tell how skillfully the animal was killed—it just looks like he's caressing the meat to her—but he must have some method of doing so based on his autopsy of the deer last time. For a moment she considers asking him how he's able to do it, but ultimately decides not to; what use would she have for an ability like that? No, it's better to just not rock the boat and let him do his thing.

"Another takedown without any sign of a struggle," he eventually says, beginning to fill another small pouch with coins. "I'm not sure how you do it lad, but I'm glad you do. This enough?"

Looking through the bag, she attempts to determine a rough estimate of how much he'd paid this time. It seems to be less than the first payment, but she'd expected that; the price seems fair. Together with the previous sum, she estimates that she has around half of what she'll need if this winter follows the worst-case trend set by recent years—even if she manages to squeeze a bit more out of him, she'll still need to go through this process another one or two times.

"Yes, this is enough. Thank you for your time, Cig." She turns to leave, but a thought comes to mind. "While I am here, do you happen to know of any knights in the area? I passed one in my travels today and was curious if they had stopped here."

"Ah, must've been the knight who came in earlier for some meat—actually, I sold him the last bits of the buck you brought me a month back. Think he spent the night at the inn, if that helps."

"I see. Do you have any idea as to the purpose of his presence?"

"Nah, can't say. He mentioned somethin' 'bout a search in the area, but he cut himself off 'fore he gave any details. Must be somethin' important, eh?"

"Yes, it must be. Well, I shall be off then. Take care, Cig." Something important… could it be—

"Hope t'see you again, Artur. Maybe you'll let me in on yer secret next time?" he grins, cutting off her thoughts.

"—err… yes, perhaps. Goodbye." She exits the shop in a hurry, his last words getting her slightly on edge. They had certainly been referring to her hunting technique—something she definitely can't tell him about—but for an instant she'd thought he'd been referring to something else. There's no way he has any idea as to who she is so worrying about it is pointless, but it still makes her a bit uncomfortable.

But more importantly: the knight. What he's searching for… in all likelihood, it's something related to the battle. It's already been two months since then, but it's likely still the early days of whatever new order has been established—if one has been at all. If this new order seeks something related to the battle, this should be about the earliest they could've sent out a knight. But what could it be, specifically? Probably not Excalibur—Bedivere would have reported its return to the Lady of the Lake. Perhaps Rhongomyniad? No, that's also unlikely. She'd left it in Mordred's chest, and her body was gone when she returned to Camlann.

Bedivere… Mordred's body… a sinking feeling enters her chest. Bedivere would've reported Excalibur's return, yes, but he also likely reported where he left her own body to rest—which just so happens to also be in the direction of that knight's travel. Could they be searching for her own corpse? No, if that were the case why would Bedivere himself have not been sent? Although… he did lose his arm recently. He may still be in recovery, if he's even still a knight at all.

As much as she hopes it's not the case, it seems more and more likely that the knight is indeed searching for her corpse. And as she approaches the village gate, the knight in question rides past, heading in the direction he'd come from originally. From what she can tell, he doesn't appear to have anything new with him; perhaps he gave up the search when her body was not where Bedivere reported it to be? Well, at least she hopes that's the case. If she's unlikely, he could've located her camp and discovered something that would've been identifiable as King Arthur's. If that's the case, major problems are on the horizon. Actually, even if he hadn't found her camp she's likely to face major problems soon, she realizes. If he hadn't discovered it, he's likely returning to request aid in the search.

On her way back to camp she tries looking at the situation from every angle she can think of, and all lead right back to the conclusion she'd already come to: in all likelihood, the knight was searching for her corpse. But thankfully, she finds no sign of any disturbance to her camp when she eventually makes it back; if nothing else, she remains undiscovered for the time being. Though the worst outcome hadn't come to pass, she's not out of the woods yet. If whoever ordered the search acts quickly, she likely has around a week before the knight returns with backup. She needs some form of plan before they do so—if she isn't able to prevent the truth from being covered, then the reunion she so desperately seeks will almost certainly fall out of reach forever.

Author's Note

A minor detail I don't think I'll have any way to include in the story itself is that I envision the current year to be 537. It's supported by one of the few sources that provides a semblance of evidence of Arthur's actual existence in the form we know him and also comes at the end of a particularly severe period of cooling in Europe over several years due to volcanic eruptions. This cooling likely led to some crop failure, which in turn would've led to famine, which would have likely contributed to the rebellion that culminated in the battle of Camlann. On the subject of small details, Cig and Aileniburg both have roots in Welsh words if anyone's interested in etymology.

That's about it for now, the next update will probably take a little longer than this one did but it still shouldn't be more than two weeks or so. As always, I hope everyone continues to enjoy.