Disclaimer: I own nothing in this fanfiction.

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I once had a dream…

I was king.

I ruled a holy city where everyone was happy in a kingdom of prosperity, a place where everyone can smile and live carefree.

A Utopia, a holy city where all could coexist with no need for war or bloodshed.

I was king. I ruled a constant warzone, a dominating kingdom of fire and steel. A place where even the children held up arms and kill.

A cursed land, baptized by blood and tears, where you could trust no one, not even your own sister.

I saw myself in the reflection on the lake of blood.

Eyes as cold as ice, hair as pale as the snow and the all so dark armor that was on me, blood dripping from its spiked gauntlets.

I woke up to the crackling flames and feeling of heat that tingled my feet, it wasn't long then until it dawned upon me.

Our home was ablaze.

I screamed my mother's name until my voice gave out.

There was no response.

I was alone.

It was then that the wall in front of me collapsed and revealed an exit.

So I stood up and ran away from the fire, the ever-so gluttonous fire that swallowed my bed.

Outside, I stood, staring at the scenery.

The hut was indeed reduced to ash.

No remains but the black charcoal that still emitted heat.

Strangely, there was no grief or sadness, it was a serene feeling, as if I knew that such a thing would eventually happen.

Yes, the kingdom was at war with the invading Saxons, such tragedies were hardly uncommon.

I turned my back to the remains and walked down the stony road, it was not long then until I met him.

A man garbed in a white cloak greeted me, someone who I knew before but I could not remember.

He guided me to a castle and gave me clothes and food.

I disliked that man, I did not hate him but I disliked him so much.

He told me that the family I grew up with was not my own, that my father was Uther, king of Britannia.

He asked me...

"Artoria, do you wish to make people smile?"

A weird question.

Do I wish to do such a thing? If I do that, will my infinite rage and hatred be sated? Will my hunger for power that knows no bounds be satisfied? Will the kingdom dominate and conquer instead of being conquered?

The answer was No…

I did not wish to make people happy at the cost of my happiness and the kingdom.

I would be king.

The next day, that man came to me and took me to a different place.

Somewhere that felt rather… pleasant…

Green plains spread far towards the horizon.

On a hill slightly larger than the surrounding ones, was a stone-embedded sword that shone like the sunlight.

The man pointed at the sword and smiled.

he told me;

"This is the sword of Selection, Caliburn. If you pull this sword from this stone, you can become king and rule the kingdom."

I would be king.

Did I want to become king? I cannot remember.

I remember putting my hand on the handle, feeling the grip in my trembling fingers, then with a mere pull, the sword slid out from the stone.

But it was Fate.

I was told that many strong warriors and knights attempted and failed, while I, a weak little girl, managed it with no visible effort.

I became King.

The days passed and to ascend to kinghood, my gender was hidden from the people, even my knights, the ones who would die for me, did not have that knowledge.

Caliburn, the holy sword of Selection that stayed by my side, became a cursed sword from the amount of blood it drew, innocent or vile, anyone that defied would be slain.

I became a Tyrant.

I fought the Black Dragon Vortigern, and took his heart with my knights of the round table, but Caliburn broke in the process, the scales of Vortigern were too hard for it to pierce.

I discarded it. No second thoughts.

I became a Dragon.

I visited the man afterwards, to make him useful.

He took me to the Lake behind the hill of the twin dragons; and what a hill it was... Here, Vortigern laid waste to Albion long ago…

And I laid waste to Vortigern and took his name for my new blade that the Lady of the lake, the high fairy Vivian gave me.

I was asked, what was more important to me, the sword Excalibur, or the Sheath that came with it, Avalon?

My answer was the sword.

But the man laughed and told me I was wrong, it was the sheath that was the most important to me. It protected its wielder from all harm, but the blade, it was a weapon that brought harm to people.

The blade...

It was a horrible sight at first, the sword was such a holy instrument of cleansing light.

But I was a Tyrant Black Dragon.

I was tainted, yet the sword did not reject me.

The instant I pulled it from its scabbard, it became darker than the flames of Vortigern.

It responded to my taint with that of its own.

Excalibur Vortigern…

That's what I called it.

I was engulfed in darkness.

I called it that because Vortigern was the darkest being I knew at that time, but I came to know that the darkness of the heart is something different entirely.

I remember that I smiled and discarded the sheath that day… For it to be lost to the ages.

I waged war against the invaders, and established Camelot.

I became a monster.

I massacred villages, children and women were sacrificed for the good of the kingdom.

One day, my knight, Mordred, told me that he was my son from Morgan Le Fae, my own sister.

How so? The witch had her ways.

I loathed.

But I am not one that acknowledges such a son, especially unfit to be king.

So naturally, I denied him.

Little did I know he was a she, and she was just another me, who instead of making her own choices and building her own personality, was puppeteered by a witch.

I regretted.

It was on that day, my sword became Excalibur Morgan…

Sir Lancelot, the knight of the lake, slept with my wife Gueneveir.

I took his head that day.

Not because of my pride as a man, for I was not man.

Not because of my kingly duties...

But simply for his sake, if he was spared, guilt would kill him.

I ruled.

The rebellion took place, and the oppressed people turned to face their oppressor.

I fell.

On the hill of bodies, I stood, my sword and lance in hand, faced with my own picture, my own son.

I was wounded, my strike was parried and Clarent earned its name, Clarent Blood Arthur.

All of my remaining force went to the hand wielding the lance and with a thrust, I killed my son.

And there I was, left for dead, my blood spilled and merged with the blood of a thousand other warriors who died that day.

I died.

When I was summoned as a servant, I got the memories of another me.

The Holy King Of Knights, King Arthur.

She was me, but better.

She was the TRUE Artoria Pendragon, heir of Uther.

While I, was an Alternative Personality that never truly existed.

Fascinating, she was a perfect king, she made my dream in the burning hut come true.

But her people still turned on her.

[The king doesn't understand human emotions.]

The people said.

She existed for the sole purpose of serving her people but still, she was betrayed by her own sister and knights. As a result of her sparing Lancelot, he ran amoke and became crazed at the end of his days, brutally murdering Gareth and other knights before commiting suicide.

Bedivere, the loyal knight…

I never met him in my life, perhaps he was the missing piece that would have fixed my kingdom, perhaps he could have changed me and the kingdom for the better… Who knows…

And finally, I could not reach Avalon, while she most likely could.

The place with the blue infinite sky and grassy lands, where only the free of sin can pass, the domain of the soul.

What a cruel joke… Even Merlin made it to Avalon, even if trapped for eternity and beyond in the Garden of Avalon.

What is my wish for the Grail?

At first I wanted to make the burning hut dream come true, but it was already done by my other self.

For now, I don't know whether to lament my other self's cruel passing, or to hate her for giving them the chance to do her like they did.

Emiya Shirou?

He is certainly one interesting phenomena. If I were to describe him in one word it would be unpredictable.

It's true that he is acting strangely, suspicious even, but he is also an excellent Master.

I will have to wait and discover him fully. Until then, I cannot judge him.

That is who I am, Artoria Pendragon Alternative, the Black Tyrant Dragon.

I once had a dream… To become king.

Author's note:

Sorry for the wait, school is coming back. Less time to write. More time to fill head with useless info.

Reviews are more than welcome, I await more comments and thoughts this time peeps, don't disappoint me.

Ravage of the darkness: Well, no need to thank me, this isn't the best fic out there, but it's honest work. If I get more interactions on the reviews side of things then I promise to write and publish even faster.