Here's another chapter!
Plot-wise, this is my first proper foray on portraying how the previous generation of faeries in Lostbelt 6 looked like. One tip: Because of successive faeries sharing appearances with their predecessors, just imagine what the latter looked like in-game. Of course, I try to differentiate things here and there, but any unexplained clothing, hair, or miscellaneous style should be presumed identical. Enjoy!
...finally, a new anime season starts! Of course, SPY X FAMILY, Bleach, and Chainsaw Man is a must-watch, but also The Eminence in Shadow is highly recommended! For those of you who likes obscure LN adaptations... I won't watch Blue Lock yet because the best stuff happens later on; just keeping a watching brief for now.
one below all: Unfortunately, this story won't be bereft of steamrolling. I like steamrolling. But yes, I'll try to reduce it as much as possible. About how manipulation rubbed you the wrong way... I don't have an answer to that, because that's the most logical way inhuman creatures like Alaya and the Heroic Vessels will do things under the AU I've constructed. Hope I can do better each time, though.
Ghost151: You know it!
Ultimate Warrior of Zera: Yeah, it's an idea I had for some time after analyzing what Nero would do if she wasn't being constantly poisoned. Also, for clarification: it's not strictly 'marriage', but more of a 'consort-like' relationship, because Boudica's a far shout for a Roman Empress. You know, politics and all that.
"Thank you for our hospitality, Lord Ainsel."
Tonelico felt like she'd been bowing nonstop these past few weeks, but she sincerely didn't mind it. How could she, when the people she's meeting were worthy of even more respect? Only now could she fathom the scale of the tasks she'd set herself along. To lead them? Them, these… legends? Tonelico – and neither was Morgan – was never one to worship others mindlessly like those fanatics she looked down upon, but as the [Warrior] aspect, she was infinitely closer to the faeries, Britannia's mystical side, and the whole native religious landscape than her main body.
She could literally feel the other party's Conceptual Weight, making the typical human-like cock-measuring conversations rather meaningless, so faeries could go straight to the point with the real social hierarchy settled the moment either party laid Fairy Eyes on each other.
This was also why she hadn't encountered any trouble so far, even though her behaviour screamed 'outsider'. 'Tourist' might be a more accurate description, and perhaps the one passers-by came to the most often conclusion, the probability of her actually originating from the Outer World very far in their mind. To them, it's easier to accept a visitor from another domain in the Reverse Side instead of having to spend energy and be wary of someone from another dimension. Totorot and Grimr performed their roles admirably, redirecting attention away from the more curious sort – either lusting for Tonelico's beauty or the inquisitors among the patrolling guards.
They were currently on the way to the Fang Clan's territory, stopping for a few days in the Mirror Clan Head's lodging.
However, instead of enjoying the life of a tourist, Tonelico sighed for the umpteenth time when she had to lift Totorot by the scruff of her neck and sit her back down onto the chair, specially heightened so both the little pink-haired faerie and the puppy could eat comfortably. Still, despite this consideration, these two constantly chose to crawl atop the table and eat there instead. She now felt like a babysitter, thrown back to the memories of years past when she had to take care of the unruly Altria. "My apologies, Lord Ainsel."
Despite his title, Ainsel was remarkably young-looking, though of course appearance shouldn't be an age indicator for the near-immortal faeries, bar exceptions like Ector, who was from the Earth Clan but had succumbed to his human side and aged normally. Well-groomed short blonde hair, barely brushing his shoulders, and a lithe, feminine built – in fact, if her Fairy Eyes hadn't been able to confirm it, Tonelico would've thought of this Clan Head as similar to her younger sister's condition. The two were effeminate enough to pass as either gender, unlike Tonelico's overflowing girlish charm or Merlin's seductive feminine guiles.
He giggled, with a voice sounding as if it never broke. "Ufufu… It's fine, Miss Tonelico. I'm happy to have someone to share meals with."
Among the six faerie domains, the Mirror Clan had the least number – and thus the weakest military strength. Instead, their strength lied in their unique Element, [Prophecy], which even her teacher praised as being better than her. Merlin, the kind of woman she was, wasn't someone who spread sincere praises like that every day.
Comparatively, the Fang Clan where Totorot's and Grimr's friend, Wryneck, was residing was undoubtedly at the top of that scale, chiefly because of their… breeding capabilities. Regardless of what heroes and bards always loved to boast about, there was merit in quantity… and it's not like Fang Clan faeries were individually weak. Even though by the Reverse Side of the World's standards they would never be respected because of their relative lack of magical talent, no one would honestly admit they didn't fear the Fang Clan's… well, fang and claws.
"Have you heard about ol' Wryneck?" Totorot asked, her cheeks bulging with food. It's strange how she could still articulate so well despite her mouth being full, and with great manners too – not a shred of debris fell off her lips. "We haven't been in contact with him for ages, nya!"
"Ah, he's doing well. He's about to step down and hand things over to Sir Woodwose," Ainsel calmly explained.
- Woof!
Grimr incidentally let out a shocked sound, which Totorot mirrored. "H-He's C-Clan Head?"
"Of course. He's been one for a few centuries now; didn't you know?" Ainsel innocently tilted his head, sincerely not fathoming how one could be so ignorant of the state of the world. "Sir Woodwose had some competition from Sir Boggart, but he triumphed in their latest duel, so his ascension is set in stone."
It was a society where meritocracy was at its purest. While not utterly lawless and barbaric, anyone could challenge a superior to claim the latter's position anytime. While the clan's aforementioned military numbers and resources made it a fearsome opponent, in turn, it couldn't expand its territory much because its internal management was too unstable. Every half a generation, a usurpation would occur, resetting whatever the preceding incumbent was trying to achieve, positive or negative.
In contrast, perhaps the wealthiest and politically most influential was the Wind Clan. They were the closest to the Outer World, dimensional-geographically speaking, and was the domain where regular human beings most often visited. They had an established trade route with humans, too – mostly up-and-coming magi who were looking for items on the cheap – and was the most well-versed in human culture, as was apparent by their living conditions. Tonelico hadn't gone there, but from what she'd heard from Totorot and Ainsel, it's nearly identical to what Morgan was familiar with around Castle Camelot.
However, this cultural influx also meant they were seen as the most untrustworthy, after Pandora decreed several of their elders as frauds. This was a major scandal at the time since faeries weren't used to be lied to or unable to detect the truth, and as all the domains witnessed those elders executed by way of Cernunnos turning them into mindless Mors, before their entire being shattered into nothingness, broadcast live and in high definition by way of everyone's most beloved (loathed) pretty big sister (annoying hag) succubus, their reputation among faeries hit rock bottom.
They still hadn't changed their leader – the one called 'the most beautiful faerie' named Aurora, though rumours had it she's going to step down soon, the toll on rescuing her clan's reputation wearing heavy on her. Tonelico also wasn't excited in visiting that place, and was fortunate their tour to the Fang Clan wouldn't need to cross the Wind Clan's domain. It reminded her so much of her home country's despicable politics… and perhaps that's exactly the source of their plight. Still, having so much wealth and economic power meant there's bound to be good stores, there, no? As a girl, Tonelico found that hard to resist…
"Let's go shopping there!" Totorot voiced Tonelico's embarrassing thought. "We'll have so much fun, nya! Ladies' night, nya!"
"Ahahaha…" the young magi chuckled nervously, knowing what Totorot meant would be significantly different to her, whose common sense was closer to humans. "Well, let's see when we get there."
"If you're there, you may want to look for Miss Coral," Ainsel interrupted. "I'll write you a letter, so please hold on before you leave."
- Woof!
Grimr excitedly wagged his tail, before nuzzling at Ainsel's slim legs. Frowning, Tonelico immediately bent down to pick him up… which turned into a short contest over who's fastest: her hands or his feet. Unfortunately for the white puppy, the instant he gained half a step's distance from her, a strong suction power grabbed hold of him.
Ainsel laughed at the squirming dog, paws frantically flailing as if it's trying to swim through air, as it's pulled into Tonelico's firm grasp. "I didn't know you like it that way, Sir Grimr."
Both Totorot and Ainsel were confused when the young blonde's words froze the puppy, leaving it putty and limp in his new perch.
The small boy her real body and teacher had picked up, named 'Shirō' in whatever native accent he had – though it sounded terribly similar to the Latin name 'Sirius' in her ears – was most excited about meeting the Earth Clan, home to the… ah, girthier faeries, and direct disciple descendants of the first hero who forged the prototype Velber-slaying weapon. Morgan giggled at the first burst of real emotion the boy showcased, having said nothing but sarcastic and caustic remarks towards her well-deserved teacher, and restrained politeness towards herself. The two beautiful magi wanted to get closer to the interesting boy, partially fuelled by the inherent curiosity native to most practitioners… and partially because his face was exactly their type.
Ector hailed from this area of Reverse Side of the World, but he rarely spoke of his mystical origins because he was only a distant descendant, though clearly still close enough to be counted among their members. Besides, the Earth Clan faeries all practiced a form of blacksmithing, and people like Ector who pursued martial gains were considered second-class citizens. The latter group was assigned as city guards or patrol units, and certainly far from the centre of power where craftsmanship was the sole judging criteria. Its capital was more akin to an artistic plaza or giant exhibition than an administrative place, filled with the rancour of hammer hitting hot metal, haggling merchants, and brawling faeries.
Didn't sound like the place Tonelico would enjoy, and neither was she required to visit that place.
"You can get a new staff forged out," Ainsel pointed out, though having given up on convincing the party to visit there. If his description wasn't tempting enough the first time, it's not going to be more convincing the next time around. "Or a leash for Grimr. It's certainly going to be better and cheaper than what we can make here, in the town."
"Thank you, Lord Ainsel. Though perhaps a cage will be better, hm?" Tonelico's typically sweet smile morphed into a cold, murderous one, as she forced the now-shivering puppy's face upwards to meet her gaze. "Pray tell, which domain has the best veterinarian?"
"What for?"
"Neutering, of course."
- Woof! Woof! Woof!
All of a sudden, Grimr tried to escape her grip, raging against her hands and reaching towards his good friend Totorot, eyes begging for the rabbit-themed faerie to save him. Alas, she was too busy gorging herself on the desert Ainsel had just brought out, dooming his fate.
"…er, the Wing Clan, then." Ainsel was quite frightened at Grimr's sudden change in behaviour, but answered nonetheless, "Our medical facilities are standardized to a very high level, but… physical modification of that sort is usually handled at their domain. They have professional circus trainers and veterinarians, so it should be painless."
The Wing Clan was what humans most closely associate with the word 'faerie', with the Wind Clan's closeness to them instead granting them the moniker 'elf'. The Wing Clan were closer to butterflies in size than most humanoids, though those sufficiently powerful enough could attain a form about the height of young children. While the Wind Clan was the most economically powerful, the Wing Clan, meanwhile, was the entertainment capital of the faerie world, with countless restaurants, carnivals, festivals, hotels, gladiatorial matches, and other vacation destinations. They're ones with the most powerful connection to the planet's natural soul, and hence was able to manipulate their domain with great precision, ensuring all life was treasured and able to propagate ever forward, instead of going extinct at the slightest external test. Politically, they had a rivalry with the Fang Clan, though it's kept comparatively quiet, because Cernunnos hated conflict among faeries.
The one with the smallest number was the one Tonelico's group was staying with: the Mirror Clan. Much like its Clan Head, they're a kind, welcoming, pacifistic, sort, though their ability to see the future of anyone approaching them was likely key to that. Unlike the other bustling domains, which had numerous metropolis scattered across their territories, the Mirror Clan lived simply and humbly, almost mimicking the old Tuatha Dé Danann descendants who chose to merge with the planet, casting aside their worldly belongings, achievements, and desires the older they got. This druidic mentality was in contrast to the Wing Clan, who used their intimacy to the elements for personal benefits and short-term pleasures, the Mirror Clan chose to focus on their prophetic capabilities, which demanded a near-ascetic lifestyle.
For what felt like the umpteenth time, Tonelico bowed deeply at the waist, Totorot and the magically-restrained Grimr by her sides. "Once again, our deepest gratitude for your hospitality, Lord Ainsel. We're leaving now."
"Come again! I won't hesitate to house you next time!" The young-looking faerie waved his hands, completely oblivious the white puppy was crying while frozen in place. "Though… maybe it's also time for me to retire…"
"You jest!" Totorot excitedly threw her short arms in the air. "You're so young, nya! If you think old, you'll get old for real, nya!"
"I'll keep that in mind."
Tonelico was most concerned with their very next itinerary: the King Clan.
Now, it's not like she, Totorot, and Grimr were walking or riding from one domain to another, like humans in the Outer World. The six faerie domains, much like others around the planet, were connected by teleportation points maintained by each of their unique Thaumaturgical Foundation, to ease travel and trade across domains. It's forbidden to teleport outside of designated areas, so Tonelico, as one of the few who was enough of a master to do so unauthorized, was forced at least travel on foot or magical carriage inside the domains.
Still, she fully expected when her party jumped into the King Clan's territory, it'd be straight into an ambush.
Unlike what Ainsel described with other clans' peaceful transition periods, the King Clan was going through… a very familiar-looking civil war, as Tonelico was reminded of the environment her real body was raised in. Britannia's Outer World followed the Reverse Side's mockery, where the latter always considered the former to be raucous fools, unable to find harmony when it's necessary… hypocritically 'unlike them', of course. The King Clan's former leader, Mab, was retiring and about to re-join the planet's soul, but the selection of her successor was predictably messy.
This had been going on for the better part of a decade, with the likely victor now emerging. The very young Knocknarea, not much older than the redheaded boy Tonelico left in Merlin's care, had successfully gained advantage after advantage lately, slowly growing dominant and likely to finish things soon. However, Tonelico knew the most precarious period was actually right now, at the precipice of victory, as this was [Fate]'s favourite playground. Hence, her conclusion at what would await her party the instant they stepped off that teleportation platform.
So of course that's what happened when they actually did so.
Tonelico looked down at the countless enchanted spears pointed at her neck. Her companions, being much smaller, had these weapons hovering above their eyebrows instead.
Sighing, she spoke before the annoying-looking commander could yell out any orders. "Fine, we'll come with you."
Even after the sun was out, Britannia's always had too cold a climate for someone to be bare-chested outdoors for too long. Add to that the wind which always blew atop transitions between bodies of water and land, and the temperature in the middle of them would feel even chillier.
Yet, there Altria was, with nothing but her thick loincloth, standing on top of a lake.
Sir Ector and Morgan had devised this new method of training, and since Kay didn't want to go first into what he correctly presumed a very experimental regiment, he kicked Altria forwards so she'd have first go.
It's a test about combining Morgan's Magecraft further with their swordsmanship. Before, it's just a basic combination of blades and spells, where only timing and decision-making were crucial. All the vanguards had to do was duck whenever Morgan gave the signal… and while it's proven and effective – the reason this combination survived all these centuries – the magus couldn't help but feel they could do more.
Hence, this training.
She'd thought about a remote Reinforcement, where an unskilled practitioner could have their spell's control fuelled and taken care off by a third party. For example, the perfectly-ordinary Kay could be empowered from afar, bringing his physical abilities on par with Altria. Or have the magically-clumsy Altria's and Sir Ector's Od guided so they could use spells to enhance their repertoire.
However, this was completely discounting the compatibility factor of two very different Od – a fact she was all-too-aware of – as even twins or perfect homunculi replica would find it hard performing this miracle. Without something like a forced engraving by virtue of a summoning system – what future humans would term the 'Holy Grail War' – it's generally considered suicide to channel one's foreign Od into another's body.
Morgan was unaware the redheaded boy had the exact success case she was looking for, but this was entirely due to his aversion to share too much. He was, he reasoned, still a kid, after all.
Hence, she was looking for ways for all her party members to directly benefit from her Magecraft, aside from the occasional healing spells.
She relied on her most basic and trusted Element, [Water], and made Altria 'immune' to it, essentially making her younger sister forever rejected by any bodies of sufficiently pure water. Other fluids could still drown her, of course, but since this was just a test, Morgan decided not to make it too complicated.
Altria shivered, hands hugging her chest both for warmth and so her beloved older sister couldn't see her supremely erect nipples, and mumbled through her chattering teeth, "S-Sister… I-I think w-we're d-done here…"
She didn't need to shout because she knew Morgan typically casted a reconnaissance-communication spell for instances like this, or during a spread-out scouting formation.
Before Morgan could reply, however, Kay shouted, "Come on, man up, Arthur! Don't embarrass me as the person who taught you!"
The older princess narrowed her eyes at this, before glancing upon the boy's father… but Sir Ector seemed content to let this kind of verbally-abusive relationship continue. 'There's so much wrong in his words; is he so blind to see the turd of a human being he is?' The loving, 'older sister' part of Morgan thought negatively of Kay's attitude, before her rational side took over. While the old Morgan might've turned a blind eye as well, the current her needed to he absolutely loved by Altria, receive her utter dependence, so her younger sister was more… malleable in the future.
Shaking her head, she teleported right in front of Altria, who's too cold to jump in shock. It's easy because the water acted as a medium for the [Transference] Magecraft she's working on, Water Mirror, so she could move through its reflective and fluid surface easily.
Her younger sister's skin tone was a touch more tanned than the incredibly-fair Morgan, so how pale Altria looked indicated how much she's actually suffering from the cold. However, in front of the older sister, Altria tried her best to put on a brave face, hiding her embarrassment of her arousal and weakness.
Before she could say anything, Morgan gently placed a finger on her lips, causing Altria to blush heavily. Slowly, she caressed her younger sister's naked collarbone, before exerting more strength to insert her arms between Altria's own and the meagre breasts the latter's covering. "It's okay. Give me your hand, alright?" Morgan cooed as lovingly as possible, surprising herself how real her supposed 'acting' was. 'Perhaps it's impossible to instantly switch from [Love] to [Hate]…' she internally sighed. "Trust me, Altria."
She called her younger sister by her real name because Kay and Sir Ector were far and bad enough lip readers she's not worried their ruse would be discovered. Even if their voice was heard, an automated perception filter Magecraft was always on around Morgan and Merlin, preventing any slip-up and giving themselves more room to breathe. Being too tense in guarding a secret would always indicate to others there was a secret in the first part.
She could see her tenderness was working on her younger sister, as Altria's eyes began to tear up happily and her muscles loosening, smiling shyly. "D-Don't l-laugh, o-okay…?" Altria's teeth were still chattering, but the explosive warmth she felt the instant Morgan touched her remedied the cold somewhat.
Reluctantly, she slid her arms down and took Morgan's own, noticing her older sister's eyes clearly took notice of her… erection. It's fortunate the cold made the one down below at her crotch to be limp, unlike most times when Morgan carelessly hugged or kissed her cheek, so it's not as embarrassing as she thought.
…that was, until Morgan did the former, and fully embraced her younger sister's half-naked state with her whole body. Their body temperatures were markedly different – Morgan who could regulate hers with ease and Altria who's at the mercy of the elements – causing the younger princess to instantly stiffen up… everywhere, praying Morgan didn't notice.
- Plop…
With controlled speed, the two of them sank into the water surface, causing Kay to immediately approach the shore, his throat ready to bellow out a warning. Despite his attitude, he's a truly kind person – a trait Altria chose to focus onto in her naivety, and one Morgan chose to ignore in her extreme realism – a personality he inherited from his father, who's more overly-gruff and stiff than a childish bully like Kay.
"Owah…"
The scenery right underneath the lake surface caught Altria's breath, temporarily erasing her libido from her mind, as Morgan had conjured an air bubble large enough to contain their entire bodies, as well as manipulating the water current so it's relatively clear.
The sun was out, thus its light was enough to illuminate the first third of the lake's depth. However, Morgan was keen to impress, so she cast a [Light] spell – another one of the Pendragon Clan's usual Elemental trait – across the whole lake bed, making it glow just enough for Altria to enjoy the lentic ecosystem's details without going so bright she'd ruin its mystique.
"Do you see it?" Morgan whispered into Altria's ears, happy she's succeeding in flustering her younger sister. She'd moved to the latter's back, hugging Altria from behind, arms across her waist.
"…it's beautiful…" Altria sighed, mentally glad her older sister had shifted to a position where her erection was less noticeable. "Is this the spell you're trying to teach me? If so… then forgive me, Sister, but I don't think-"
"Hush," Morgan interrupted, noticing everything Altria was trying to hide – the tent stretching her underpants, the way her ears were reddening, and how she's subtly rubbing her back on Morgan's sizeable breasts. "It's not like that. Britannia has plenty of water bodies, and sooner or later, we're going to be forced to take on quests related to aquatic combat. Don't you think manoeuvrability will be paramount then? This is an exercise to get your mind to get used to ignoring a human's instinct, which is to get out of the deep water as quickly as possible."
Despite her horny teenaged mind, Altria was usually quite clever and perceptive when she's around people she's actually comfortable with. Being in her sister's arms used to count, but as they grew older, it felt like sinful torture to her. "…walking on water? So the exercise before… d-do you need me to be naked? Really?"
"Well, either that, or you learn [Heat] spells," Morgan argued, her tone as patient as possible to cement her image in Altria's head. "I trained like this, so I guessed you'd take to it as quickly as I did. Sorry if I-"
"N-Not at all! I won't d-disappoint you!" Altria quickly answered, fearful she wouldn't receive Morgan's attention in the future. 'W-What if she thinks of me as u-useless…? I won't be by her side when she becomes queen…' she lamented. "I'll be good and listen to Master Merlin this time!"
Morgan deliberately pressed her lips into Altria's ponytailed blonde hair, making sure it's both familial, seductive, and the latter could feel her smile all at the same time. "Thank you. I thought I have to convince you lengthily… I guess you've grown up." She emphasized her 'kindness' by removing one hand from the flat and toned stomach, and gently rubbing Altria's head with it.
She felt Altria's body temperature skyrocket once again, her draconic Magic Cores clearly overworking in accordance to the younger princess's wild desires. 'Like Kay… Does she really think I won't notice? Even a village girl will scream harassment if she acts like this…' Morgan thought happily. The more this occurred successfully, the better her long-term prospect was.
"The most basic tactic will be you, running around atop the surface, to attack anything I throw up from underneath the water," she switched to 'teaching mode'. "It's too taxing for my calculative procedure to enchant three people at once, so since you're the lightest and the most receptive to my spells, we'll rely on you."
"Leave it to me!" Altria excitedly confirmed, her tone boastful.
- Plop!
A louder sound echoed when their air bubble reached the lake bed, stirring out fine silt from their perch. Morgan quickly adjusted her control over the local currents so it cleared faster, before pulling Altria to sit down on her lap, her slightly taller and much curvier frame enveloping her nervous younger sister.
"Now, there's something else I want to tell you," she mumbled, her lips still oh-so-close to Altria's nape the latter could feel the reverberation of the air going through Morgan's lungs.
- Grip!
"Kyah!" Altria almost jumped, squealing with a very high pitch which betrayed her true gender. "S-S-SISTER!" She shouted in panic, trying to turn around, but Morgan's hug was too firm for her to do so without using Mana Burst and hurt her older sister.
Morgan's hands… sneaked down and grabbed Altria's erect cock through her pants.
"When we return to the inn, let's bathe together, Altria."
"W-W-WHY?! L-Let go, please! I-It's not something y-you should touch…!" Altria squeaked.
"Because I don't appreciate you peeking at me without my consent, alright?" Morgan cruelly revealed her knowledge, causing her younger sister to freeze. "I want to have my revenge on you, my little pervert…"
"Your Holiness, are you sure about this?" Pandora's voice, the only one sounding in this room for centuries, echoed. This was mostly because Cernunnos couldn't speak in a way she, other faeries, or humans could understand, being a primordial Divine Spirit born during the first few generations of the planet's habitation… and mostly because she had no one else to talk to, as meetings with the deity was strictly regulated. "I… have my reservations about that woman."
"▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄_..." A low-pitched moan reverberated around her, without a single sign Cernunnos was actually speaking. In fact, his 'voice' sounded more like an earthquake heard through the ground's transmission if one pressed their ear against it – impossible to translate. Confirming this theory was the sensation of his entire being speaking, instead of just relying on one single organ.
Naturally, as someone who'd been by its side for… forever, Pandora understood its words clearly. Cernunnos was her saviour and master, taking her after she fell into despair under the weight of the Greek pantheon's curse. As a comparison, the latter didn't even realize she was gone until the day their civilization collapsed due to their own mismanagement of their worshippers, inciting them into a constant state of [Chaos] instead of working together to search for [Order], resulting in the Bronze Age Collapse. Cernunnos, meanwhile, always kept the then-young Pandora riding atop its fluffy shoulders, so she was the human who could look down on others the best.
"Yes, I understand, Your Holiness," Pandora replied as she pressed her forehead to the floor, just as deep as Tonelico before. She wasn't sure whether it preferred this gesture or not, since she'd tried various subservient poses… all of which lead to the same pleased expression of emotion. This was the form most popular with Roman slaves lately, enforced by their masters and owners, so Pandora thought to try it out.
- Boom!
She exited its personal chambers, hearing the enchanted dimensional gate behind her close heavily.
Taking several deep breaths, Pandora sat down where she stood, in her post as Cernunnos's priestess and last guardian.
As a combatant, she had pitifully little offensive power. However, as a literal flesh wall, she was invincible. That's the only reason she survived the planet's first hero's battle against Sefar and Velber; after all, the collateral damage was so severe it nearly incinerated humanity all the same. Granted, their numbers were very few and far in between then, but without the emergency defensive measures taken at the time, half of the living humans would've been wiped out back then.
One of those 'emergency measures', at least from Pandora's perspective, was her own body and pithos. She was under no pretence this was unique to her and her alone, as not even the Divine Spirits who spawned her could kill her now. Oh, she had no doubt they would be… creative when dealing with her if the situation arose, but that's why she cast her lot with Britannia, where she, despite all odds, had found a home.
She had forgotten more things than most Divine Spirits ever known in her immortality, but that scene was as fresh as yesterday's events in her mind.
Pandora felt the invasion through her pithos first, when it strangely showed some kind of sentience for the first time – and eventually the last – and gave her an extremely bad premonition. Before she knew it, a well-built tall redheaded man suddenly appeared, his face obscured by the extreme light the weapon in his hand was generating, and gently pried her hands from her tight hug on the pithos. Somehow, the thought of struggling didn't even cross her mind, and she allowed him to take what was both her lifelong companion and the symbol of her divine curse.
Six mutilated corpses littered the ground around them – Pandora counted so because she saw six heads, so perhaps the number could be more – as the lands seemingly shrunk under Velber's overwhelming Conceptual Weight. She looked up to the…
There was no fucking sky anymore.
The horizon was filled by that star-like monstrosity, fitting for a life form whose purpose was solely to devour civilization. Mindless, humanity would describe it, but it's only because their common sense was so far apart from it they could only fathom it as such.
That said, she could also describe this random man with the same word. Ditto herself back then, when concepts such as [Salvation] and [Happiness] were as foreign to her as [Death].
- Rumble…
Ah, and now… the ground wasn't the ground.
Once again, a phenomenon occurred to her without her realization. Here wasn't Hellas anymore; she was teleported over forcibly by a different being. One so powerful it could wrench her from under the Olympians' grasp along with her omnipotent pithos, so smoothly she wasn't even disoriented by the transfer.
All of this was happening only in seconds, as her mind ran on overdrive.
There, in front of her, her pithos crumbled, joining a multitude of pebble-sized 'ingredients' rushing from all around her – the six corpses included – and into this mysterious man's too-bright-too-observe weapon. The 'ground' beneath the two of them shifted, because it's now clear it's a living being, bringing them closer and closer to that apocalyptic form smothering the whole sky.
As if to meet them, a bright white star with rainbow tail detached itself from the 'mothership', rocketing straight downwards and right onto their heads. Later analysis would reveal this as the individual named 'Sefar', though by that time the redheaded man had already disappeared into thin air, swallowing all opponents in an even more blinding flash of light. Pandora could observe this without fear because her eyes, burnt again and again from the prolonged exposure, continuously regenerated, her [Death] being used as material for the counterattack.
Cernunnos, who stayed rooted on the ground and acted as their raised platform, could sense everything going on in greater detail through his other senses, as he'd never relied on sight to live about. It's from this Divine Spirit Pandora received a more complete explanation later, when everything had died down, though even that adjective was generous, since there's still a lot of missing details she'd like to know until now.
In the end, all was well. The planet wasn't swallowed, incinerated, or outright destroyed to pieces, though there were still some lives lost – both Divine Spirits and humans. Britannia was left leaderless, before Pandora's urging pushed the laid-back and overly-kind Cernunnos to take the mantle. Neither one of them knew the six corpses from before that well, but it's clear they were some kind of ancestral race suitable to be a source of artificial creation, necessary to fill the reduced population back then.
Compared to most, Pandora held the best knowledge of living bodies' composition. Hence, she provided the plans for Cernunnos to channel its power through, using the remains of the six to establish the current six faerie clans. Having terrible experiences with anything resembling a population, she was pleasantly surprised the first few generations were relatively easy to manage. Key to that was a curious remnant left behind not from those primordial faeries, the first Sub-Bells, but also from that redheaded man. He actually rematerialized and stayed around for a while, guiding the infantile community to ensure Cernunnos's viewpoints were respected and continued to be followed. However, he and Pandora didn't have too many interactions, and so she was actually still scratching her head at the strangeness popping up every now and then, wondering whether this was a natural mutant evolution or an intentional change he implemented without her or Cernunnos's knowledge.
Strangely, to this day, she couldn't remember his face. Only his figure wielding that shining blade-like weapon was engraved to her soul – one of the few things she refused to let go throughout her immortality. While they rarely spoke to each other – she didn't even remember how he sounded like – she considered him to be her first benefactor, even before Cernunnos.
That's how she spent her first years away from the Olympians' grasp, silently watching on the planet's development from Cernunnos's shoulder.
- Bzzt!
A communication request sounded right beside her ears. It's quite a surprise every time because Cernunnos's 'temple', despite its size, was usually empty and quiet. Only someone with Pandora's mental resilience could maintain their sanity here, because Phantasmal Species or humans, the majority required social interaction of some kind to survive.
The only thing she'd gotten used to was clamping down on her shoulders jumping at this notification.
A light panel spread open in front of her when she accepted the request, showing Aurora's perfect facial features.
The Wind Clan Head truly embodied the title and life goal of 'most beautiful faerie', because even under the sorry state she's in right now, her beauty was still overwhelming. Pandora could only think of Morgan and Merlin for a female to match her appearance-wise, but she's not sure even they could beat her in a beauty contest.
Her usually well-groomed, mildly-wavy blonde hair was dishevelled, several stray strands sticking out. Even its colour had lost some lustre, no longer as enchanting and glittering as before. Aurora's lost quite a bit of weight, her cheeks showing signs of hollowing, and there were minute bags under her eyes.
After her crimes were revealed, she was immediately put on house arrest, with all Wind Clan matters handled by her assistant and soon-to-be replacement Coral. Pandora, having watched Aurora grew up from a tiny faerie, knew the most perfect punishment for the latter: a room with absolutely no reflective surface on it, preventing her from fulfilling her mental craving of admiring her own beauty. To be frank, it was also more of a jail cell than a VIP holding facility, since the Wind Clan elders had seen to it she suffered as much as possible from ruining their entire tribe's reputation.
Only their money and economical importance as a whole prevented further avengers destroying it out of spite. In reality, aside from their influence, they were among the weaker clans in terms of combat; certainly far from the Fang and King Clan, who reigned supreme for all these years because of the [Role] Pandora imposed on each of the six clans, as the faeries' de facto frontline when they warred against other Phantasmal Species for territory and resources.
"What is it?" Pandora irritably demanded an answer straight away, dispensing with the usual formalities at the start of calls.
As predicted, Aurora could still smile confidently in this situation. It's only the familiar glint in her eyes Pandora could even say she's being haughty; otherwise, people would've simply regarded her as an admirable, strong-willed, yet pitiable beautiful woman, fully deserving of a consideration for leniency. "Ah, I have received an… interesting communique. Perhaps we can come to some kind of terms?"
"Your execution is final. There's a saying in the East about 'washing one's neck' in preparation for a death sentence; you should take that to heart," Pandora coldly shot her suggestion down, having long tire of playing the political game across negotiating tables. "All I will grant you is a slightly better last meal option, Alexandra," she spat out in irritation, using Aurora's childhood nickname which came from the size of her butterfly wings.
"Oh, don't be such a boor, Priestess. You haven't even heard what I have to say yet!" Aurora was still chipper, though visible veins were bulging at her temples. Sure enough, faced with someone who'd literally seen her in her 'larvae form', at her ugliest, was troublesome. Much like Eastern civilizations, the Wind Clan in particular had different names according to their evolution into adulthood. The ones where this culture was totally absent in were the Mirror and King Clan, who's as close to humans in appearance as possible and saw no point in having it due to their respective abilities and traits. "It can affect the future of the whole faerie clans!"
"I shall take that as a threat," Pandora emotionlessly declared, "noting it down on your record as yet another disobedient behaviour under surveillance."
"Kyah! Don't be so mean! Fine, I'll talk first and let you decide if it's worth it!" Aurora playfully whined, trying to make herself cuter. Which, Pandora had to admit, even with her dishevelled state, was working quite well. This near-supernatural ability to coerce others into forming a favourable impression on Aurora was always dangerous, and the main reason how the Wind Clan's transgressions hadn't been found out for so long. "I found a [Calamity]. Or, rather, he found me."
- …
Faced with Pandora's sudden silence, Aurora's confidence swelled even further. "Are you going to come to me, or should you send someone to pick me up?"
Her irritation had boiled over to the point of genuine anger. Hence, Pandora only spoke with a clipped tone, "Stay where you are, little bitch."
"Merlin, do you think I'm wrong?" Uther asked for what felt like the umpteenth time, all traces of his kingly charisma and elderly authority gone. "I've been following your advice, fully realizing it's not something I should follow blindly. I chose this because I felt you were correct… but at what expense?"
Indeed, faced with this immortal monster and inhuman beauty, Uther Pendragon was no older than the redheaded boy she'd just picked up a few years ago. In fact, in certain aspects, that intriguing 'Shirō' was more mature.
"What are your doubts?" She smiled tenderly, her natural charm already enveloping the king even if she didn't want to. She knew her appearance was her most dangerous weapon, so she wielded it more cautiously than even her own spells. "I won't dispel them, and merely present the facts I know, as usual."
"Yes, yes…! No, I'm not doubting you, my dear mentor," he spoke rather unsteadily, worried he might've offended her. None on the Round Table was able to read Merlin's thoughts or predict what she'd do next, Uther included. "It's just… the war situation recently worried me."
'War' was a rather strong word, since the peasants were currently enjoying at least half a generation's worth of peacetime. However, for a leader like him who's forced to think in the long term, this brief respite was nothing but a breather between fistfights. He had to be aware at all times, lest his kingdom be consumed by others within a day.
They were walking towards the deepest part of Castle Camelot, where the Pendragon Clan's precious family heirlooms were located. However, that, too, was just a veneer placed down to cover the real treasures: the Noble Phantasms Uther had managed to either collect, commission, or take by force from all across Britannia. In fact, if one considered just the Conceptual Weight stored in this room, the Pendragon Clan was undoubtedly number one in the now-rowdy European stage.
Still, the problem remained: manpower.
Not a single person in Uther's family or the Round Table could lift just one of these weapons. Merlin explained they had a form of sentience, and the failure of lifting them up was just the first round of tests. After that, even if someone managed to wield one of them, if their mentality and spirit weren't strong enough, then the Noble Phantasms would consume them until their deaths, go dormant, and wait for the next victims.
He had high hopes either Morgan or Altria could wield them; alas, before he found out – and before the majority of his current 'collection' was acquired – they were separated.
Of course, technically speaking, the ones who'd use the term 'Noble Phantasm' would be someone knowledgeable about these items' future states, such as SHIRŌ. Everyone, even Merlin, still categorized them as unusually powerful Mystic Codes instead, since they lacked the accumulated experience of both wielders and weapons to qualify them as the former. Those already-recognized currently, for example, were Merlin's staff, Attila the Hun's main weapons, or the relics of past Roman Emperors left behind in Britannia.
The most complete collection, to Uther's knowledge, was in Ireland, where the tombs of Celtic heroes were still maintained pristinely to this day, including their famed divine weapons. Literally no one could lift even a single object, so there's actually no fear of theft, and perhaps the sole person who could still judge the worthiness of a potential wielder was peacefully spending her time in the Land of Shadows, waiting for eras to past while continuously training herself.
There were also rumours the Anglo-Saxons were carrying a few, but he'd believe in only when he saw them, since there's no way those Scandinavian leaders would let such precious national items be brought along a questionable sea voyage to a foreign land. Disregarding the risk of it being taken in combat, what if a ridiculous accident happened? Such as having it tumble and fall to the ocean depths?
Merlin was lazily floating behind Uther as always, as she saw walking to be too troublesome if the situation didn't demand it. It did consume Od, though it's so minuscule for someone like her it might've as well been free.
"I assure you, young Uther, there will be no war. Not now, and not in your children's time, either," she smoothly spoke, weaving truths and predictions she found hard to believe into one sentence. Most of it were the logical conclusions of some of the changes Alaya wanted to bring into the world, and were so ridiculously optimistic, idealistic, and full of happy endings Merlin was reluctant to put her faith in them. "Some conflicts are necessary to fulfil the prophecy."
- Creak…
The vault door, entirely made from precious steel and enchanted by Merlin herself to be both unbreachable and indestructible, opened with quite a lot of grating noise. Uther had begged her to oil the hinges so it wouldn't be so noisy – after all, it wouldn't be a 'hidden treasure vault' if just opening it informed everyone in Castle Camelot – but then he remembered this thing didn't even operate on hinges. Back then, she merely laughed and replied, "Isn't it more dramatic this way? Like the entrance to a whole new magical world!"
Unbeknownst to him, there was one thing he shared with his daughters: the occasional sudden urge to kill Merlin, before sighing in defeat at the impossibility of such a task.
Continuing on her speech as they stepped into the first 'veneer', Merlin said, "Of course, everything will be mitigated to remove any fatal risk. Do you have so little faith in this little ol' me?"
Uther wanted to retort sarcastically, but Merlin seemed ready for it, so he stayed silent.
- Boom…
The vault door closed behind them just as loud as its opening movement, though because they're inside, the pitch was much lower. Automatically, several gentle yellow light orbs turned on, bathing the room in just enough warm light for one to admire the bundles of gold, artworks, ancient tomes, and other artworks inside.
Taking this as a pseudo-cue to continue on a more serious note, Uther said, "I'm simply having second thoughts."
- …
…and sure enough, he didn't like the answer he's given, because Merlin quickly shut her mouth and narrowed her gaze at him.
Normally, any man in Britannia – and even quite a number of women – would be happy to receive such an intense gaze from an enchanting beauty like her. However, right now, he was reminded of the time they first met, when he was still an ambitious young warlord who waved his sword around as if he was bestowed a special purpose and right from a higher being. Of course, that turned out to be true, but at the time, he thought of her what she actually still was, to this day, unlike his brothers-in-arms who quickly fell for her sweet voice and alluring face.
The devil.
Still, who was he to criticize? After all, it was he who placed himself under her mentorship, all in the name of fulfilling the prophecy given to him.
"Where's the ruthless, impatient, and ambitious young man who first begged for my help? Don't tell me you're about to reverse everything we've worked for so far because… of cowardice?" Merlin's voice was as sweet as ever, but this was a sharp sweetness, instead of the cajoling seductive one. "And don't look at me like that. You know I never accuse other people, only say what's in front of my eyes. And right now, all I see is someone who can't wait to die and pass on his problems to his children."
That was too harsh, but she didn't care. Hypocritical, too, since she was the first to abandon her own plans without telling him what happened with Alaya. The changes she was going to make would mean every sacrifice Uther had made would be meaningless, destroying the name and reputation he'd achieved into 'a foolish, incompetent father and king'.
To that, Uther had to recompose himself in silence for a while, before answering, "You might be right. Call me whatever you want; however, I believe what I'm worrying about is correct. Judge that as you will, my lovely mentor."
At his attempt of flattery, Merlin relaxed her verbal pressure. "That's more like it. Speak."
"You once said we're standing at the end of a crossroad, where the very next step is the first one humanity will have to take to advance." He began, "That requires us to shed the 'baggage' we've been carrying for eras, becoming the truest expression of us, humans."
She chuckled. "When people bring up what I said in the past, usually it's either to twist my words or use it for nothing good."
Ignoring her quip, he continued, "I'm simply wondering if there's another way. You did say it's a crossroad, not a crossing. Going left or right sounds feasible, no? I'm still fully committed to the plan, but there's circumstances I wish for you to explain to me, so I'm relieved to know everything's accounted for."
- Thud.
Merlin stabbed her staff's butt onto the floor, activating the magic circle secretly engraved onto it with invisible ink. It took more effort for her because it's designed for Morgan to use instead of her; regardless, it's certainly a smooth enough process for the magically-inept Uther to not notice the difference.
Instead of a physical second opening into a sealed space somewhere, the real treasure room was in fact another spatial dimension overlapping the current one, and the activation was merely a switch between two planes. It's a similar setup between the real world and Scáthach's Shadow Realm back when the Reverse and Outer Side of the World were still close together, or when Gilgamesh freely travelled back and forth between his kingdom and Ereshkigal's realm of the dead. Because of the dip in Mystery caused by men of Uther's ilk, this transition was actually considered an advanced Magecraft these days, where if Merlin was alive during the peak of Age of Gods, around Medea's time, she would've restructured this spell into a Single-Action one, instead of relying on a magic circle to ease the silent chant of a Ten-Liner.
Compared to the previous room, this one was almost as sparse as the innermost sanctum of a holy temple… the one where priests and priestesses conducted the religion's most pious and secretive arts, without a shred of unnecessary decorations or gilding. The earlier display was deliberately showy and overwhelming, so those who entered would be blinded by greed, and no different than other local kingdoms' treasure vaults. Instead of carefully-curated display angles and warm lighting, there's nothing but eerie white candles, emitting sickly, bleached bone-like pale glow, illuminating a number select few stands, those with any object at all
A jagged crimson… long blade-looking thing, a remnant of Empress Nero's first arrival on Britannia: Aestus Estus, The Original Flame.
A blue-and-gold-hilted seemingly-ordinary longsword, the match of the former: Unpromised Victory.
A large silver-blue broadsword of the sun: Galatine, Revolving Victory
One round, seemingly ordinary round shield: Wynebgwrthucher, Face of Evening.
A white-handled and -hilted Celtic recurve dagger: Carnwennan, Penumbral Dagger.
A miniature model ship of gold and azure sapphire: Prydwen, the Fair-Faced Maria.
Rhongomyniad used to be here, but it suddenly dispersed into golden motes of light and rushed into the then-baby Morgan the moment she was born. It caused such a ruckus because the midwives and Uther thought she was blessed by a foreign Divine Spirit who looked to take advantage of an innocent baby, but they relaxed once they realized what'd actually happened.
The rest was empty, though the display stands were well-maintained due to the automated cleaning and circulatory spells Merlin enchanted the room with. It's yet another 'typical' spell used in Egyptian tombs in its heyday so unpopular pharaohs didn't need any manpower investment to clean their pyramids. Again, it's far from its original efficient form of its heyday, as the current Egyptian province under Roman control would find it difficult to execute, with how weak its Thaumaturgical Foundation was now.
The transition was instant, and Uther stumbled a touch, never gotten used to spatial displacement of this speed despite his years alongside Merlin.
She, meanwhile, immediately answered, "Well… those 'left' and 'right' paths were so obviously dead-ends I never mentioned the possibility of you agreeing – hence my omission. You can try and re-establish Roman civilization here, or turn your back against your homeland and join the Saxon army. How're those two options to you, hm?"
"Of course I'm not talking about those!" Uther immediately shot back, now scathingly, "I'm talking about whether it's good to abandon Mystery and push for human advancement above all else! Is there no good third option?!"
'Well, there is, but you won't be alive to see it.' Merlin wisely held her tongue. No good thing would come out if she revealed her change of hearts, along with Morgan's knowledge of her and Uther's plot to make Altria king, bypassing the eldest princess. "That's for you to think of, obviously, young man. All I've taught you are cryptic sentences and vague prophecies; any more, and all you amount to is my puppet." She deliberately looked away from him, presenting her voluminous white hair and skimpy robe to his angry gaze, thinking, 'If you still haven't realized you're already one… then I've truly just chosen the best from a bad bunch.'
In truth, the end of the Age of Gods Merlin originally planned wasn't as genocidal as Uther's words were making it out to be. Compared to the misguided witch hunts and magic tomes burning in the future, her plan was but a mere gentle nudge to tip over a rock already on the precipice of a cliff, which would snowball into the assured separation between the Reverse and Outer Side of the World. Using the advent of new forms of free-thinking philosophies, along with the relatively flexible and non-binding Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Hinduism, and Taoist Thaumaturgical Foundation, Merlin would wash the old pacts clean and set humanity free on their way…
…not knowing everyone, including her, already carried Solomon's parasitic Sorcery Trait to ensure humanity's incineration two millennia later.
Once again, there's no need to harm Uther further by letting him know the actual truth. Let the man pass away a few years later confident in his decisions and without regrets.
"Are you sympathizing with those 'evils' you so abhorred in the past? Have you forgotten how much you despise Britannia's reliance on Mystery and not on its own people?" Merlin questioned back, pointing out the points in his past which made the man he was today. "It's gotten to the point you despise your eldest daughter and remove her rights to the throne without her consent just because she was closer in nature to me, and not you. It's gotten to the point you willingly let me experiment on your unborn second child to equip her with what you thought best, stifling her magic potential in the womb."
In this secret vault room, there's naturally no circulation to maintain material quality and endurance. Yet, right now, a strong, sharp wind bellowed from all around Merlin, a far cry from the gentle breeze she preferred active in Avalon. Pink petals whipped around, threatening to shred Uther to pieces.
"Having stained your own soul so, resolving to surrender your soul to eternal damnation… you still wish to see a different option just to satisfy you before then end? Uther, you almost disgust me," she scolded, trying to keep herself from shouting. "Aren't you pissing on the efforts, sacrifices, and dedication you yourself have made along the way? I can understand when one does that to others, but doing it to oneself? I'm very disappointed. Watch your next words, or I'll be fully disgusted by you."
