Chapter 3: Deception

Sitting at the desk in his barren room, Shirou hugs one of the few remnants Saber had left behind: the stuffed lion she'd seemed to love so much. Outside of the clothes she'd worn and the shinai they'd trained with, it's the only real physical proof of her existence. Of course, he doesn't need any physical proof—the strength of the love he feels is more than enough for him to be certain that she truly existed—but having something of hers to touch is comforting all the same.

The sound of his door sliding open behind him jolts him back to reality, and he stashes the lion under the desk before turning to help Rin with the stack of books she's carrying.

"Thanks again for this, Tohsaka. There has to be something in here that—Tohsaka? What's with that look?" Over the past two weeks, he's seen that look on her face countless times. It's a malicious grin, a smile that halfheartedly conceals her sense of smug superiority. In other words: she's up to something.

"Oh, nothing at all Emiya-kun," she replies, her grin growing further at his question. He sighs, knowing that whatever she's got planned is bad news for him. As they set the pile of books down on the desk, she seems to switch into a different mode and the grin disappears. "These books should be a good enough place to start your research. But like I told you—I really doubt there's anything that could bring her back if everything happened like you described it. Outside of some kind of miracle it shouldn't be possible to summon her at all if she broke that contract, let alone summon her here without the Grail's support or any kind of catalyst."

"Yeah, I know. In my head, I know that there shouldn't be any way she could be summoned at this point." He clenches his left hand into a fist, staring at where the Command Spells had been just earlier that day. "But that doesn't matter. My head might know it's impossible, but my heart disagrees—and it won the argument. I won't be able to live with myself if I give up now, not when I haven't checked every possibility."

"I thought you'd say that," she sighs as he grabs the book on top of the stack and immediately begins to read. "Oh, right—before you get lost in that, do you know where the clothes I lent her are?"

"…hmm? Oh yeah, I forgot they were yours—they should be in there." He gestures at the door to Saber's former room.

"Got it. Would you mind if I took them back now? You have that lion, so I'm sure you don't need her clothes as well."

"Well… I guess I can't object, they are your clothes," he replies, fighting a losing battle against the redness spreading over his cheeks. But his response seemed to be irrelevant—before he'd even begun to reply, she'd already gone into the room and grabbed them.

"Perfect, thanks Emiya-kun. See you later then, I'm going to take more of my things back to my place," she says, exiting just as abruptly as she'd entered.

"…what was she so happy about?" He wonders out loud; is it really just because she got to tease him about the lion? But there's no use wondering about that now, so he turns back to his desk. "I'll bring you back, Saber. Even if it's impossible, I'm not going to give up—even if it means working for the rest of my life to force my way into Avalon itself." He grabs the lion and hugs it again for a brief moment before setting it on the desk beside the book he'd picked out.

"We'll be together again one day, Saber. Whatever it takes."

After some of the worst sleep she can recall having, Artoria is no closer to a solution than she had been the day before—she still has no idea how she could possibly stop the knights without ruining everything. Them not finding a body in itself wouldn't necessarily be a problem, but what would likely come next would be; they'd probably take their search deeper into the woods searching for any sign of her death, and in the process potentially stumble upon her camp.

Of course she could just up and leave her camp, but that would just push the problem further down the road. Even if she somehow managed to erase every trace of herself she'd left in the area over the past two months, the knights could just go to the nearest town—Aileniburg—and ask if anyone had seen anything suspicious. And of course, just a few days prior she'd seemed to be the talk of the town when she went there with a large bundle, one that was generally the right size and shape to be a human corpse.

And even setting aside the risk of her becoming a person of interest, if the knights aren't able to find some sign of King Arthur's death things are at risk of falling back into chaos. If there's no evidence of her death, the legitimacy of whatever new lord took control would be thrown into question. No, she can't just do nothing aside from disappearing—it's too risky.

Then she needs some way to satisfy the knights, to convince them of her death. But unfortunately, she has no method of doing that in mind, either. She doesn't have Excalibur or Rhongomyniad anymore, Avalon is vital to her end goal, and even if she were to retrieve Carnwennan, it's unlikely that anyone remaining would recognize its significance.

In an attempt to get her mind off the matter so she can take a fresh look at it later, she sets about her typical routine. She eats some food, does a bit of training, and goes to freshen up at the river—

Wait a minute: there might be someone who can actually help her. All this time she's been operating under the assumption that there's nobody for her to turn to, but that isn't completely true. Contacting anyone who still has any kind of role to play would ruin everything, but what if she were to seek out someone whose role has already concluded? Now that she finally has the spark of a plan, her spirits are immediately raised. She rushes to dry off and change back into her clothes, and once she's done so hurries downstream along the riverbank.

Eventually, she arrives. But before she makes her move, she intently scans her surroundings so that she can be absolutely certain she's alone—if anyone were to see this, her cover would be completely blown. Once she's gained a sense of security, she calls out to the lake:

"Lady Vivian! Are you present?"

The deep blue surface bulges up at the center, forming into a column of water. Like a block of marble, the pillar gradually sculpts itself; a pair of arms and legs form, the shape of a gown covering a womanly body is chiseled away, and finally the figure's head takes shape, beautiful features carving into her face with water flowing from her skull like a waterfall in place of hair. Upon the figure's completion, Artoria kneels and bows her head.

"Hello, King Arthur… though I expect that title no longer applies, does it?" The Lady of the Lake smiles gently. "When that knight brought Excalibur to me, I knew your time in this world must have been at an end—and when I felt your spirit vanish, headed off to Avalon, that suspicion was confirmed." Her smile fades, replaced by a more contemplative expression. "Yet some time later I felt your spirit return to this world, and now you stand before me once again, very much alive. There is but a single explanation for how such a thing could be possible. I had believed you… lost it, and yet I sense its presence with—no, within—you now. Avalon…?" She trails off, leaving her question unfinished.

"It is a long story, my lady." She raises her head, meeting Vivian's blank gaze with her own. "As you have realized, I am no longer King Arthur, merely Artoria Pendragon; much has changed since that final battle. When I gave Sir Bedivere Excalibur and bade him return it to you, I fully believed my life was at an end. You are correct, Avalon had been stolen from me through the schemes of that witch; without its presence, I was mortally wounded by Mordred's blade. As I was carried off that battlefield with Sir Bedivere's help, I made a contract with the world: if I could gain the Holy Grail in life, I would lend my services to the world in death."

"That bastard Merlin told you of your fate long ago, did he not? If you knew of what would come to pass, why is it only at the end that you so desperately wished for the Grail?"

Artoria turns her gaze downwards, clenching her fist. "…I was weak and a fool. I could not accept the way that Camelot met its end, and I believed that with the Grail's power I could wish for someone more worthy to have drawn the sword so many years ago, someone who would be capable of granting the kingdom a peaceful demise. But in my search for the Grail, I met a man who showed me that such a wish was wrong, that it would betray everyone who suffered for the future that was achieved. It would not erase their suffering, it would merely make it have been for naught." She returns her gaze to Vivian's. "And so, I let go of my desire for the Grail. However, that lesson is not all that I gained from that man. Through his foster father, who had himself been granted it by a family of mages, he had unknowingly come into possession of Avalon. Once he became aware he returned the sheath to me so that I was capable of fighting at full strength, and I remained in possession of it at the time of our parting. When I returned to this time, I had brought Avalon back with me without being aware of it, integrated within my body itself. With that power I was eventually revived when my body recovered, and I am thus able to stand before you once more."

"I see… Yes, that explains much. However, there is one flaw in your story: Avalon alone could not have returned you to life. It was necessary to make such a miracle possible, of course, but on its own, even Avalon should not be capable of reversing death. Even with that fool's aid and Avalon's power, you would not have been able to return to life without immense strength of will, the likes of which I have rarely seen. So tell me, Artoria. What desire gave you such willpower? You say you no longer seek to change the past, so what do you seek so fervently now?"

Artoria smiles. "Lady Vivian, you have already realized that I am no longer the person you once knew. Sir Tristan once said 'King Arthur does not understand human feelings.' He was wrong, but in essence he was right; though I had feelings, in order to be the ideal king I was forced to suppress them. I maintained that wall through my search for the Grail, but the man I told you about… he broke through. With him I felt true joy for the first time since my childhood, and though I protested at the time, for a fleeting moment I was able to live as an ordinary human. The desire you speak of is my desire to be with him once more, so that we may live out our days together. I shall do whatever it takes to do so, and I believe that he would do the same for me."

Vivian laughs, a soft smile spreading across her face. "Ah, of course—love. So even King Arthur is capable of such a thing, and powerfully enough to return from death at that. Well then, Artoria; why have you sought me out? Though it will be quite a long journey, with Avalon you are more than capable of reuniting with your lover."

Artoria's expression hardens as they get down to business. "My lady, I am in trouble. If I wish to see my dream fulfilled, I cannot let the flow of time be disturbed from its natural course. Unfortunately, it seems that knights are likely searching for my corpse, which they obviously shall not be able to find; I believe that this search poses a grave risk to my goal. As such, I am in need of some manner of making the knights stop their search, some form of proof of my death. I know I am destined to go to Avalon when I eventually meet my end, and in the future that seems to be common knowledge. The best course of action thus seems to be leading them to believe I have already reached Avalon, but I do not have the means of doing so alone. But with your aid, I believe creating such a sign would be possible, something only possible through the influence of the fae. Please, my lady, grant me your aid once more.

Vivian pauses a moment before responding, seemingly lost in thought. "Yes, I believe I can help you. But you must know something. One day there will be a price to pay for the realization of your dream, regardless of whether or not you had come to me for aid. You were not fated to survive that battle—eventually the world will take notice, and it will impose some cost on you when it does so. I would ask if you are still willing to continue onwards, but it is quite obvious that nothing will shake your will. Take this, Artoria."

Vivian outstretches her arm, and from the ground in front of Artoria sprouts a small flower. Even with as little knowledge about flowers as she has, the strange feeling and slight glow emanating from the plant lets her know it's unlike anything else in the world.

"This flower is normally found only on the Reverse Side of the World. If you were to plant it elsewhere, it should spread into a sizable patch in a matter of days before eventually being lost to the winter's frost. You should know what to do from here, Artoria."

"Indeed. Thank you, my lady. I am in your debt," she says, bowing her head. "If there is anything I can do to aid you, simply call on me. So long as it does not conflict with my own goals, I shall do my best to fulfill whatever you request of me."

"Do not worry yourself," Vivian gently laughs. "It seems you have enough to worry about for yourself, and I do not foresee myself ever being in dire need of aid. Goodbye and good luck, Artoria. Do not hesitate to call on me if you should ever find yourself in need of my aid again." With her parting words, the water that had formed her body loses its shape and splashes back into the lake.

Alone again, Artoria crouches and gets to work. She begins digging with her bare hands to free the flower, being as careful as possible around the roots to avoid damaging them. Once the plant's been uprooted, she wraps the clod of soil containing the roots in the clothes she'd used as a towel to aid in transport and begins walking back upriver.

Skipping camp, she heads directly to where she'd been left by Bedivere months earlier—the sooner she plants the flower, the more that should accompany it by the time of the knights' eventual arrival. When she reaches the tree she'd died under she sets the flower beside her and starts digging a few yards from its base. Without a shovel the process is slow and tedious, only able to use her bare hands and a knight to help cut through roots that block her path. Eventually the hole has grown enough to fit the dirt clod, so she places it within, fills in the earth around it, and smooths the dirt to eliminate traces of human interference.

Though there should still be a week until the knights arrive, it's starting to get late; there's nothing else she can do for the moment. For now, she'll simply have to return to camp and wait to see how things progress here.

Over the next few days, she adds checking on the flowers to her routine. When she returned on the first day she found three flowers, then eight, and now there are well over a dozen in all colors of the rainbow. To her knowledge such a site can't be found anywhere in Britain, so the knights should surely manage to gather that something supernatural is at work. But even so, there's nothing directly connecting the location to her; if they believe they're searching in the wrong location, they may continue their search even after seeing the flower patch.

The location needs to be directly tied to her in some way, enough that not even a shadow of a doubt remains that she has died. On her fourth day visiting the site, the patch has nearly reached the base of the tree she'd laid under. The tree… yes, that should work. She takes out her knife and begins neatly carving into the tree's bark, spelling out "AVALON" in large, bold letters. It's a simple solution, but it should be enough. A word so deeply connected to her alongside this otherworldly sight should be enough to convey the message of her death

Now, only one issue remains. Until she's certain the knights have come and gone, just wandering the forest will be increasingly dangerous over the coming days—they could show up at any time. Ideally, she'd be able to watch over the patch in order to keep track of any developments, but that would be incredibly risky as things are now. There isn't anywhere that would serve as a good hiding spot nearby, and being spotted would essentially be the death of her plan.

If stealth is a necessity, then it seems it's finally time. Carnwennan seems to be perfectly suited to her current needs, and she knows exactly where it is. Well… assuming nobody has moved it, at least. That doesn't seem very likely—few should know of its significance and it doesn't appear to be anything special when just looking at it, so nobody should pay it more than a second glance—but it is a possibility.

But so long as that hasn't happened, the dagger should remain in a chest in the tent she'd used at her army's final camp. The camp itself is down the road beyond Aileniburg at a distance she estimates to be about half a day's travel on foot in normal circumstances. However, these aren't normal circumstances; her magic core could cut the travel time into a fraction of what it'd take for a normal person. Even if it takes longer than expected, there's not a cloud in sight. Moonlight should be enough to light the way back to camp if worst comes to worst.

There's no reason to hang around waiting, so she immediately sets out for the former camp. After breaching the forest's edge, she taps into her core and begins sprinting in the direction of Aileniburg, the wind slightly stinging due to her immense speed. Normally she'd walk along the road, but she instead enters the forest to its south; the risk of being seen by another traveler if she were to travel along the road is too great. Running at such speed through dense forest is also dangerous for entirely different reasons, but her instincts are strong enough to guide her legs to avoid impacts. It's not ideal, but even if she were to crash, Avalon should patch up any injuries she'd sustain anyways.

After running for a little under an hour, she finally breaks through the trees and enters an open field. Without the forest to serve as cover from anyone potentially in the area, maintaining her previous speed is dangerous—but rather than slow down, she instead speeds up. The lack of any obstacles means she can increase her speed to the point that anyone looking in her direction would see a mere blur unless they were intently watching the area, and even then they'd likely chalk things up to them just seeing things. Another half an hour at this pace and the hill her camp had stood upon comes into view, so she begins to decelerate.

The camp itself seems to have become rundown in the months since the battle; a few of the visible tents seem to be on the verge of collapse, even more have holes in the cloth, and the area seems generally overgrown compared to how she'd left it. Though everything seems to line up with how she'd expected to find it after so long, the sight still fills her with a general sense of unease.

…Something isn't right here.

Trusting her instinct, she stays low to the ground and creeps up the hill towards the camp's entrance. As she grows near, she discovers the source of her unease—there are voices in the distance, seemingly coming from within the camp, though she can't make out any words. It seems the camp has been occupied; regardless of who it is, things have gotten more complicated.

Upon cresting the hill she takes shelter behind a tent on the camp's edge, creeping around the border to try to pin down the voices' locations. As she goes along, she stumbles upon a clue as to the identity of the camp's occupants: the stables have several armored horses in them. It's incredibly unlikely they've been there since Camlann, so they must belong to new arrivals—in all likelihood, the knights who are searching for her body. She'd thought she would've had another day or two at least, but their search will probably commence tomorrow.

Getting Carnwennan now is a necessity, then; without it, she'll be unable to effectively ensure that the danger has passed after the knights' visit. Unfortunately, her tent's location is about as bad as it possibly could be: right at the camp's center. Without being aware of the general location of the knights an invasion will be incredibly risky, so she continues along the border to try to finish pinning them down. As she goes along the voices grow in volume, and eventually she's able to make out actual words—well, not quite "make out". The words seem to be heavily slurred so with them still being at a distance she still can't tell anything about their conversation, but that in itself is useful information. They've almost certainly been drinking, and likely been doing so heavily; she can't imagine elite knights getting so drunk in the afternoon on a mission like this, so the knights that've been sent must be relatively inexperienced.

But whatever the case is, them being drunk is definitely a good thing for her mission; if they're heavily intoxicated, they're unlikely to be as attentive as they usually would. She can't count on everyone being drunk—surely not every knight would've let their guards down so much—but if a sizable portion of them have then things will definitely be easier.

After a while longer, she manages to pin down their location: as far as she can tell, they seem to be in the former mess hall—with them being drunk, she should've gathered as much from the beginning, really. It's time to begin planning her assault. In her time traveling around the camp, she hadn't encountered a single guard. Therefore, it's unlikely that security would be incredibly tight even putting aside that a portion of the knights seem to be quite drunk. At the same time it's also unlikely that they're entirely neglecting security either, and the area most likely to have guards is the center of the camp; her destination. Extreme caution is a requirement.

To face as little risk as possible entering from opposite the mess hall would be ideal, so she runs back around the camp, searching for a gap between tents to use as an entryway. It's a good thing she'd traveled light; merely carrying a knife, she should be able to move almost silently around the camp. Eventually she finds an opening she'd been searching for and squeezes through, emerging in a path with tents on either side.

When the camp had been established, it hadn't exactly been done so in an organized fashion; it's mazelike, without a straight shot to the center. The radius of the camp should be in the ballpark of seventy five yards, but due to all the turns on the path to the center the true distance is a fair distance more, maybe even double as much. But because she hadn't had time to focus on the specifics of the camp's layout, she's unsure of the best route; she'll just have to act on the fly.

As she sneaks along, she takes care to memorize her route; if she retrieves Carnwennan as planned then doing so isn't vital, but the knowledge will be invaluable if she fails due to unforeseen complications. After creeping down the path for some time, she finally spots a knight standing guard as she peeks left around a corner. She only looked for an instant, but it was enough for her to get a handle on the situation—his posture was relaxed with his back to a tent, so he seems to be remaining stationary rather than patrolling the general area. That's both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it makes his movements much more predictable; if she doesn't give him a reason to search around him, he shouldn't move at all. But on the other hand, it means that if she were to try to continue down that fork she'd definitely be spotted.

She could try simply retreating a ways back and taking a different turn, but she'd likely just wind up in a similar situation with less time remaining if she were to do so. Moving along this path will get her caught, retreating is unlikely to be of any use… it seems she's at an impasse. There has to be another way.

Crouching down, she considers her options. She could try to draw his attention… no, that would likely result in the camp going into higher security, which would just make things worse. Trying to knock out the knight before he can alert anyone would be even worse, so that's also out of the question. As she scans her surroundings, her attention is drawn to the tents and an idea comes to mind: if needing to navigate around the tents is an issue, why not just go through instead?

Walking away from the path with the knight, she finds an open tent and steps in. After hurrying across to the opposite side, she peers through one of the holes in the fabric. Everything seems perfect; on the opposite side is another corridor of tents, stretching in either direction. If she were to go through, it'd entirely bypass the knight and allow her to continue onward.

She grabs her knife and sets it against the cloth wall, stabbing through with little effort. With the initial cut made, she drags the blade down the fabric as quietly as possible so as to avoid any risk of drawing attention, and eventually a flap large enough to fit her is formed. After taking a quick glance through the flap in either direction to ensure nobody's around, she squeezes through.

As she slowly presses deeper and deeper into the camp, the sun begins falling. Soon it'll be approaching the horizon—she needs to secure Carnwennan before that can happen. And thankfully, there don't seem to be any other barriers in her path. A single line of defense must have been deemed to be enough, which is reasonable for a mission such as this; there's no need to focus on security when it's unlikely you'll face any adversaries outside of the environment itself and a potential stray brigand. A few knights keeping watch is more than adequate in this position.

Eventually, she reaches the camp's inner ring. Despite the lack of security, she still doesn't want to take any chances; there's still nearly a dozen yards between her and the tent, and there isn't any cover she could use en route. If someone were to happen by as she made the final approach, everything she'd done would've been for nothing. She needs to make sure that doesn't happen.

Using the same method as when hunting, she taps into her dragon core and begins preparing a mana burst focused entirely on her legs. Suddenly she explodes, leaping forwards and directly through the tent's opening in a single stride. But it's not time to relax yet—upon impact with the ground she stabs her dagger in and pivots, carving through the earth as she rapidly decelerates. She finally comes to a stop just before she would've crashed into the chest she stored her belongings in.

There may have been some unforeseen difficulties, but she's finally here.

However, there's no time to rest; the tent already doesn't let much light in, but the sun is also beginning to set. Once the small amount of light she has stops filtering in, it'll all be over. She throws the chest's lid open and peers in, looking past a few ribbons she'd used for her hair, a spare change of clothes—which she grabs; it's always good to have more backups—and a few other trinkets, she finds her target. Carnwennan is right in front of her.

She reaches out, but before she can grab it she hears voices steadily growing in volume, seemingly coming from the same direction she'd entered. If they're coming from that direction, it's unlikely they were among the voices at the mess hall—and thus are unlikely to be drunk as the others seemed to be. But more importantly, there's a good chance they were out on patrol or something similar; in other words, taking their duty seriously. There's no time to waste then. As she grabs Carnwennan, the voices have grown near enough to make out their conversation.

"—will soon discover if Dech's report of the situation was correct, or if he merely missed the corpse in his search," one of the voices says. If there was any doubt left, his words would've erased it; they're definitely looking for her body. As the light begins to further dim, she opens her mouth to activate Carnwennan's ability and—

"Yes. If I had been called for any other reason, I would not have responded. I shall yield only to my king. …But this matter is one I cannot ignore. If my liege's body has truly vanished, then I am obligated to… no, I am compelled toaid in the mission to locate it. The sight of him smiling at long last under that tree is etched in my memory. I remember exactly where we were, and thus I know exactly where to search. We will succeed, Sir Thomas."

A voice she had never expected to hear again freezes her in her tracks. Of course he'd be on this mission—it's surprising he hadn't been sent originally, seeing as there's nobody better suited for it. But enough thinking about that; she needs to get out of here now.

"Of course. With your aid we are sure to succeed, Sir Bedivere."

taiworetan1: this is following up on the Fate route, not UBW.

So, the elephant in the room: Vivian. If you've played Lostbelt 6 in fgo, you'll know that she was retconned to be an alternate persona of Morgan. While I really hate that decision, I will nevertheless be going with it here; the exact workings of that won't be important to this story, but it'll be explained later on. I wrote the outline of this chapter before LB6 even released, so making edits to fit the changes to Vivian took a fair bit of time and is largely why this chapter took two weeks rather than one.

Bedivere was my favorite Knight of the Round Table even before getting into Fate, and reading the Fate route and the Camelot singularity in fgo only cemented that fact. Seeing as he's one of few notable knights to survive Camlann, I knew I'd be using him in some way from the very beginning, and inserting him like this seemed perfect.

As always, thanks for the support and I hope everyone continues to enjoy.