The desolation of kings had left a great scar on the land, Camelot was in ruins, bandits roamed abroad, and the armies of the king were left in tatters and as time soon showed the vultures were closing in. Order would not come by words of peace and brotherhood; it would have to be taken by the sword.
And where was Kay while his sister marched across the land? Stuck in Camelot doing his best to salvage the shitty situation they were shoved in. Could've been worse he supposed, the healers keep saying he's lucky that he's able to walk at all. Doesn't change the fact that once again he's been left behind while his sister goes forth. He looked away from the outcropping away from the ruined lands they worked so hard to build.
Nothing left there but bitterness, nothing new for him but even he had a limit. He leaned heavily on his cane until a runner came up to him with a missive.
"Sir Kay we have reports from the Ki-Queen's latest battle" While he had to admit it was a relief to no longer have to hold onto that secret it took some time getting used to the knights openly referring to her as Artoria. He quickly read the report on his way to his chambers. A few petty kings had tried to take advantage of the chaos and claim the territories now kingless and- well this is disturbing Artoria wasn't taking prisoners. That went against her very core hell he remembered complaining that she kept taking too many!
"The hell happened to you while you were traveling Arty?" He crumpled the paper in his hands unconsciously as he recalled the hurried conversation they had before she left, she had been freer yet off in some distant way. The fact that she could change so drastically scared him more than he'd care to admit.
'Does it have to do with that sword?' He didn't have the courage to tell her how wrong that sword felt, air shouldn't be that cold and it shouldn't feel draining to just be around. There would be a cost to that blade, he knew it in his heart that there would be a cost. He looked down at the paper and gave a curse doing his best to uncrumple it. Seeing it in a somewhat legible state he read-on and immediately wished he didn't. Catapulting corpses, disregarding rules of warfare, fear tactics, poisoning the water supplies, bloody hell! It may be tactically efficient, but it was also reprehensible. It was akin to putting herself on the level of Rience and everyone hated Rience. But did they even have a choice? With low and wounded numbers perhaps, they didn't have the option.
'(Sigh)What's done is done, still…'
"This is going to cause whole mess diplomatic problems, Messenger you still following?"
"Yes, my lord"
"Tell Lucan and his aides to be up here before nightfall, like hell am I doing this alone and bring me any rumors of Merlin!" The messenger nodded and ran off. So much work to do and things were only getting worse. Lot had just sent a deceleration of war the previous week and with winter coming soon and the peasantry devastated a famine was all but a foregone conclusion. But if they could get Merlin back then they could mitigate the damage, the problem was the bloody dick wizard was nowhere to be found, no rumors, no scandals, it's like he disappeared off the face of the earth.
"You won't find him" He twisted quickly to look behind him nearly toppling over in pain but with a simple strum of a string it all went away. He looked up already knowing who he would see, only one person could make a simple pluck so soothing and so beautiful, only one.
"Taliesin…" The breathless wonder in his voice quickly faded as he remembered. How long had it been since they last spoke? How long had it been since disappeared without a trace, without a goodbye? Culhwch had left to distant lands and then she… She had just… He straightened himself and breathed deep wrestling with a bitter rage, an old rage.
"He's run off to Avalon and shut the doors-" There it was, the same old distance this bloody bard tried to keep with everything. Would that she succeeded the first time they met.
'Is she trying to be Merlin without a cock?'
"Where were you?" But no matter how hard she may try there was a difference bigger than just their gender (Though Kay was pretty sure saying Merlin had a set Gender was an outright lie) Where Merlin was distant mostly because he was in general a massive inhuman dick, she tried to be distant because she was timid at heart, she would hide behind the beauty of her songs but when someone could push past all that she'd crumple.
"Most of us are doing the same considering what's going to come" She tried looking away from him as he stumbled closer.
"Answer damn you!" That burning question emblazoned in his mind he slammed his cane down.
"I- Away Kay, my part in the story of Camelot was done-" Her eyes darted frantically about as the seneschal loomed over.
"But it didn't have to be, none of you- You didn't- (Fuck) why are you here Taliesin" Kay tried to calm down, tried to let her work through her own mind. Rage wouldn't get him the answers he sought.
"... To-to try to get you to come with me" And just like that all sense of calm is gone.
"What?"
"Artoria isn't going to stop Kay, it's just going to get worse and-" He punched the wall causing her to close her mouth with a click. Fire crawled up his arms and his face clenched with rage.
"Shut. Up. You leave for years, leaving us, leaving me! To deal with all this shit and you expect me to up and leave my sister behind!?" He moved forward, his steps no longer wobbling and his cane on the ground forgotten. "And for what exactly?! What would you be running too?!"
"Kay…" She started backing away.
"Just get out of here, Taliesin" She winced and pushed against his chest almost falling over for her troubles.
"You can't save her" Her voice took on a desperate tone as she pled with him.
"Get out of here!" Tears started to appear in her eyes; it brought no sympathy from the knight, just further rage.
"Kay please-" He seized her neck and slammed her against a wall, his rage boiling to its tipping point.
"I said Fuck off!" He looked into her eyes and saw fear and betrayal. That cold fire within him died in an instant like a cold gust that suddenly smothers a fireplace's flame. He let her go and dropped on the floor.
"..." She sat there crying quietly holding her knees close to her chest, he tried reaching out gently, but she flinched back. He winced knowing it was well deserved, when he looked away, she threw a strange token in his face and ran down the hall.
He stared the way she left and sighed before leaning picking up the token after it bounced off his face, turning it over he saw that it was made of metal and was surprisingly cold to the touch though that did seem fitting considering it was shaped in the likeness of a snowflake. Strange. He wished he knew what it was supposed to mean.
"Sir the report on the blacksmiths is- Where's your cane?" He hissed in pain as his knee decided to suddenly reintroduce itself to his consciousness as he fell to the floor.
"Sir!" The young messenger ran up, but Kay waved him off frustration bleeding into his voice.
"I'm fine, just- I'm fine" He pushed himself to his feet with the cane and walked past him.
"Come on there's plenty of work to be done" He had his duty and for now that was enough for him to not look back at the burn on the wall and the slight echo of where a woman stood before.
Yet upon a distant hill stood two figures looking at the castle in the distance and the wounded lands around them, a bard of legend and strange thing of ice and cold.
"You knew he would refuse, didn't you?"
"Y̴̧̛̙͍͔͚͕̻̗͕̞͋̍͋̿͋̉͐̓͐͐̋͆͋̽̆͗̂͘͘͝͝͝e̵̻̦̝̘̲̗̭̟̠͚̲͔̰̼͓̱̹̰͉͕̿̾͊́̃̔̚ṣ̸̢͚̰̮͉̳͉̜͇͉̥͎̠̺̻͉̜̠̤͍̻̝̥̱̼͚͒̄͐̑̓̇̆̊͐̋̅͗̾͊̊́̐̈́̾̏͝͝ͅ"
She threw a bag of things she thought he would have needed onto the ground stomping angrily before the nigh alien creature. Fury making her forget what it was and her normally personality.
"Then why did you allow me to come here in the first place!"
"̵̡̼̥͉͉͖̺̟͗͂̊̀̿͆̽͑̍͑̍̋̚͘N̸̝̲̮͊̿̌͊͊̓̅̈́̽̔͘̚͠͠ê̸̢͍̣̳̈̆͒̽̏̊̉̈́̌̍̾͝͠c̷̨̧̯̤̲̖̫͈̰̥̫̫̈́́̔̈́̈́̈́̓̇̎̀̆͗͘͠ę̵̢̥͇̞̱̺̗̱̠̲̟̙̈́̊̅̆̔s̵̺̓̏š̵̡̟̞͔̾́ă̸̘̟̰͉͇̲͌̅̄̈̈́͂͗̊̓͆̉̏̔͜͝r̶̹͉̃̿̂͆́̆̎͒̄́͒͛͒͒̕ý̷̨̡̫̪̘̥̤̯̬̰̘̰̋͊̇͊͒̄͂͜͠ͅ"̷̢̦͔͙͇̜̮̱͎̳̮͉̜̣̍͊̌́͌̑̾̿̑͠
"Necessary? For what? Please just tell me why you made me hope-"
The winter fae did not answer much to her frustration. It simply stared toward the castle illuminated by the setting sun. She clenched the cloth of her pants remembering better days, a king of light, a heroic wanderer, a visiting knight of the sun, a one-armed princess, a gentle enchanter, a shapeshifter and dear bitter sarcastic Kay. The camaraderie, the wonders of the land, the stories and the desperate battles. Memories of warmth and friendship.
'And what are they now… (Sigh)What are we now Tal?'
Artoria was throwing herself headlong into damnation, Culhwch was gone with his lady love to some far-off land, Bedivere lay dead on a foreign field, Gawain would soon face Artoria in battle, Menw and Gwrhyr had been missing for so long, she had long since abandoned them all and Kay...
"It's too late for him too isn't it?" Her voice trembled as she fell to her knees.
"̶̢̨̡̬͖̱͔͙̟̫͚̗̄̈͛̈́̎́Ţ̵̢̨̩̤͙̫͙̮͈̫̤͈̗͉͋̄̎̓͋̃̐͐̈́̊̚i̵̧̗͚̙͈̝͑̇͑̂̇͐́̏́̓̋̄̚ę̵͍̞̮̣͎́̿̉̃͆̆͘d̷̨͉̺̝̮̼͕͖̔̓̇̋̈́̆̉̿̓͆̋̅͠͠"̸̛͚̻͓̗̺̝̱͚̈͋̄͛̊̈́̊͗̿̏͝
"And us? Are we to be clipped?" She was… privy to certain truths and she was unsure if anyone would be left by the end of this. Why hadn't the spirit intervened with its guardians?
"̴̼͇͍̰̤̰͎̺͎̀̈́͑̂̋́̀̇̌͜ͅU̷̪̟̞̙̖̔̅͂̓̔͊̃̒̉́͌͗͆̈́̄n̷̛̠̗̞̖̔͋̆̃͝͝k̸͓̤̙̯̪͇̪͚̣͔̭̑͌͐̈̅͗̎̽̈̂͑̕͘n̷̞̜͉̠͐́̎̏̄̎̔͗͗̊̅̒̿͜͝ȯ̵̘͙̻͓͙̣͕͖̈́̔͐̃̄̊̒̽̑͊́̚͝w̷͎͕͆ṅ̸̮̳̽̅̀̇͋̅̈́͋̇͐"̴̖͖̓̑̎͗̓̃́̆̑̑̃̅
"Is there a way? The Shadowchaser within her keep, The Savage knight returning dread spear in hand, the giant king from the farthest isle?"
"
"̷̢̨̨̛̮̮̗̫̖̪̃͌͗̓̿͗S̷̨͇̀̀́̏̉̋̽̈́̚͝͝e̴̠̳̤̞͙̫̜̗̳͚͌́̎̇̔̇̈́̔̂̇̑̀͜e̵̛̤̪̟̖͍͕͒̓̿̋͑̂̒̀̍̓̕͘ ̵̢͔̭̝̇͘m̴̡̺̖͕͛̅͑̔̈́̄̓͠͝ú̶̡̧̻̝̯̝͎̟͚̖͖̬̖̞͊̑͋̀͊̉̚̕̕c̷͈͕̺͔̱̱̺̿͊̋̋͂̌͗̌͐̐͝͝h̵̢̥̔̒̎͆̈́͋͠,̴̢̧̗̣͕̤͓̱͈̹͖̉̃̀͂͛͂̈́͘͘͜͝͝ ̴̺̠̗̼́̂̃͗͂͊̀͛̒̀̌̾͘͝S̸̨̡̗̗̻̺̱̓̆͋́͌ẻ̶̛̗̺̲̭̠̲̻̅̄͒͐̎͝ͅȇ̶̢̛̗̬͎͈͚̰̗̩͈̙͍̓͌̏ ̵̡̨̫̤͙̞̦͉̼̯͓͙̲͙̅͛̾͗̎̈̆̎͌̅̅̿̄ę̴͉̠̻̃̄̋̀̋n̷̛̟͔͙̻̤̪̲̳̺͎̖͂̈́͆̌̅͊͐̽͘͜͝d̵̢̦͓͖͈̺͓̻̱͉̑͝ͅ",̵̨͍͍̮͎̟̘̭͗̇̄̑̂̅̅̊
"...Whose?"
She grimaced as it shrugged, surprisingly human for a fae
"̶̻̯̝͉̖͎͈͉̰̈́̀̀̃̂̓͂̅̈́̈́͋̔̉̌̾͝͝B̵̜̝͇̑̈́́̕͝e̷̢̢̢͉͉̜̭͓̯̖̖̜̔̋̆́̕͜ǧ̸̢̨̢͖͎̪̦̲̫̬͇̪̻̀̏̀̂͆̊̆͠ḯ̶̢̡̗͉̦̭̺͖̲̖̦͜ň̸̨̡̨̜̫͚̜̻̯̠͒̽̋́̎̒̄̀ ̶̠̱̲̘̜̦̐̎̀͗w̸͈̯̖̗̏͆͛̿̿͗̑̆̐̆͠į̷̡̻̭͈͙̪̻̲͇͔̣̗̥̺͈͕̈̑̉̈́̍͠͠t̷̨̢̞̖̗̮̮͕͚̾̈́ḥ̷͚̯̩̺̖͉̯̗͎͕̳͕̣̍̽͑̐̀̋͌̈́̽̆̚ ̸͕̖̠̲̮͉͍̲̞̲̙͒͝l̶̖͍͙̟̬̙͕̤̠͙̪͎͎͍̂̌͌̄͝á̵̢̨̛͔̠͉̝̮̗̣̼͍̝̗͉̌́͂̀̐̔́̐͗͒ư̴̛̩̱͖̥̝̺̇́̀̈́g̵̡̙̠̗̼̬̝̪͙̮̺̦̹̟͚̐̑̈́͛̿́̀̓̄̍̀̉́̾͛̀͆̕ͅh̵̞̣͐̀͝t̴̡̮͖̻̞͇͌͜é̶̖̏͌̑̌̎͐̒͆̈́̇̆̿͝͝r̸̡̡̛͚̼̦̝̺̜͇͉̮̣͈̿̄͂̐̈́̀́͝ͅ,̶̭̞̹̹̩͉̫̎͐͒̔̈́͐̈̈́͌̀͝͝ͅ ̴̱̯͛̐͗͂̇̓̚e̶͎̙͍̝͒͘n̷͙̹̉̓͋ḋ̵̡̢̛͍̏́̔͌͌́͂̂̅̓̊̈́͊͠ ̵̡̧̠̻̱̰̼̞̤͇̪̜̺̹͖̤̈̾́͋̉͘͜ͅw̴͔͔̦͈̱̤͕̠̽͜i̷̡̜̝̬̫̭̝̩͈̫̖͖̗̣̎̐͊t̴̲͈͔̮̖̞̖̙̺̎͒̔̉h̴̡̢̟͚̰̣͕͖̞͂̅͂̃͜ ̸͓̖̾̊͒̋͛͑̉͑̊̈́͝ḧ̷̨̡̧͇̲́̄̓͂o̶̡̘̝̮̼̞̯͚̞͈͊̓̚ṛ̷͙̩̠̒̈́͛̌̓͆͆̒̄̃̓r̴̢̨͔̙̰͓̭̜̻͇̻͎̺̱̿̉̀͗̓̔͆ͅȍ̶̰̞̼̗͕̠̽̐̑͗͛́̈̅͠r̴͎͔͙̖͖͍̝͇̟̿̋͛͆͂̈́" It told her nothing except a promise of pain
"Then all we can do is pray?" She looked to the fay seeing a small smile upon its face, barely noticeable yet still there.
"̸̧̹̤͇̤̪̱̱̠̞̰̙͓͓͗̾̋̏͆̃̓̅͂͌̒̚ͅC̴̨̠̀̃͘͜ö̷̝͎̮͚̰̯̖̭́m̸̨̡̩̬̯̩͉̳̳͍͙̫̀͒̊̈́̌̔̽̈̒̇̈́̌̚͘͝ȩ̷̘̝͚͍̳̞͔̞͈͕̻̫͍͖̐̏̎͊̆͌̓̋̒͛̉̈́̿̉.̸̛̭͓̮͙̣̙̥̓̑͂̅̆̒͐̍̉ ̵̡̧͔͙̬͓͓̭̭͉̪͗̈́̊̋̾͑͛̒̑̏̎̕͝͝͠N̸̢̝͙̗̹͙͓̻͕̹̤̄̾̆̍́͌͆̅͘̕͠͝o̸̮̻̜̮͓̰͙͇̎̈̿́̽̂̅͊́͌̐ͅͅt̴̰̠͉̝̻̮͑̈́̀̍̀̑̽h̵̨̼̘͎̬̲͙̗̰͓̼̻̖̰̒̾̍̈̈́̎̇̔̚͘i̸̢̡͓͔̯̫̞͉̠̜͕̦̦̥̐̿͊͋́͐́̑́̃͜͠͝ṋ̴̡̙̘͍̘̩̩̱͉͔̩̿̂g̷̛̤̱͑͛͂̔̽̇̿͗͒͝ ̵̢̧̢̲͉͔̥̫͉͔̏̈́̈́̄͗́̾͛͗͑͘͜l̵͚̙̈́͐͐̽̏̔͊̋̀̈̅̌̄́e̸̤̳̮̤̝̔̎̋̈́̈́͗͑́͠ͅf̸̡̨̡̞̟̥̣̝̬̥̯̩̱̪̫̍́̂̓͌̎͑̋͊̆̍͘ť̷̛͕̹͍͖̱͍̽͋ ̶͍̹̰͓̙̼̞͎͓̱̤͐̒͌͆̓̅̈́̓̀͛̈́̀f̷̨̢̝̙̫̬͈͔̰̻̒̔̏ǫ̴̛̅̏̈́͌̈̈́́̐̓͑͋̓̆́ř̸̭̺̼͍͖͓͎̳̀̑́̔̀̑̉ ̶̬͍̤̫͍̗̩̌̊̎͋̏̽̔͘ͅt̸̡̘̰̹͓̜̰͎̪̩͙̥̺͉̑̋̑̓̃̈͑̆͂͂̋͋̓͘͝h̵̝̳̞̹͌̽͂̿̓͛͒͋̃̂̈͠͠ơ̴͔͓̺̗͓̣̲̻̿͂̐͋̉̆̈́̉̏͠ū̴̢͔̯̩̹̙̻̜̦̰̞̂̇̆̀͝ ̴̡̱̗͈̖̝͉̻͇̼͉̓̊̆̽͑͆̒̍̕ḧ̴̛̫̰̤̮̫̈́̄͋̽̀̄̃̇̐ͅe̵̞̖̳̣̐́͗̈́̍̐̽̿̀̾̔͘̚͝r̵̛͍͇̹̤̞̼̀̿͑̃̑͗̌̀́͊̀͊́͠ḙ̷̡̺̯͔̱̱͇̙̔̆͛͜ͅ"̶͎̣̮̫̱̈̾͑
She looked back to the castle; she could feel the tinge of salt upon her face. Maybe she could stay, maybe she could try to drag Artoria away from this desolate road, maybe- Yet still she remembered, the cold, the dark, the sword and the thing that made it.
"̷̧̡̢̛̗̱͕͚͚̺̭̜͚͇̟̬͕̘̱̻̪̖͈̥̺̩̇̎̉̒͋͑͋̎̈̈́̓͋̌̀͒̄̋̓̓͆̂͌͌̚̕̕̚̕̕͘͜͜Ď̸̟̙̞̞̳̖͍͖̹̣̦͙̤͍̻̮͙̦͓̻̹̑̄̇̉̊̎̾̍͗̑̏͂̑̋̍̂͆́̓̌̆̇̌́͊̐̉̎̉̀͆̂̅̋̋̽͋͊̽͂́̄̈͛̇̓̑̆̐̚͜͠͠͝͠͝ͅͅR̸̨̧̢̡̧̢̢̡͔̤̹̬͎͓̼̜͓̯̙̻̦̜̮͔͍͇̙̱̥̜̜̲̹͈͔̙͔͔̞̟̩̳̜͗̍͜͜͜͠Ơ̴̡̧̡̡̡̗͙̯̹̭̫̬̭͈̤̙̘̮̳̬̙̫̩̞̘͚̘̤͈͔͖̟̯̬͇̮̖̱͚̦͖̪̱̮̭̯͚̲̪̩̠̣̦͚̝͌̈̅̍̂̐̽̈́̇̎͋́͐͒̑͑̿̐́̿͗̈́̽̄̊̌̓͆͌̑́̈́̔͋͛̊͒̆̾̃̄̿̂̃͒̓͑̇̚̚͘͜͝͝ͅW̸̡̳͈͔̞͍͚̳̮̞̫̻̖̼̪͓̘̰͕̟͉̝̰͔̪̦̙̟̒̈̔̐̈́̀̂̅̍N̸̡̧̡̨̛̼̗̜͇͙̯̗̜̻̖̫͖̗͈͎̤̳̥̗͍͉̠̱͉͉̹̝̼̤͇̻̘̱̰̹͙̹̺̅̃̑͛̓̒̃͑͊̌̏͌̐͗̀́̽̎̊̈́̃̐̓̓͗͌̂́͂͋̔͆̒̓̾̀́̆̂̈́͌̈̔̕̕̚͜͝͝͠ͅ ̷̡̙̻̝͉̼͖̭͙̯͇̗̘̬̱̖͙̞̯̻͂͂̏̐̊̈̀̿͒̐͝ͅͅͅĮ̵̢̧̛̛̱̘̝̰̜̼͕̗̩̠͇̘͙̜̱̦̱͖̝̩͓͇̱͓̰͈̭̤̔̔̆̓̎͂͊̓̽͊̽͛̐̀̓̇̉́̅̎̎̇̓͊͑́͛̆̓̅͒̋̄̽̕̚̚̕̚͜͜͜͠͝ͅͅN̸̡̛̛͈̪̖͚̬̺̮̩̥̭͖̩̺̯͚͚̹̘̭̜̰̲̝̳̲͎̱̣̝̝̙̰͖̱͂̽̄͋̒̔̔͑͌͂̅̕̕͘͘͜͝͝͠ ̴̧̨̢̺̞̳̱̦͇͇̰͙͙̘̟̗̖͚͕͈͓̹̦̙͉̯̘̮͍̬̼̫̤̙͕̦͓̥͙̩̖͔͍̜̯̮̤̩̥̺̬̫̠̐̍̑́͗͂͆̈́͜͠͝͠T̴̨̧̨̨̧̛̛̙̘̟͓̮͈̦̥̺͕̹̩͚͖͙̥̲̙͎̯͔̪̾͑̏̒̈̈̏̀́̓̊̓̈́̔͊͐̉̈́͛͂͗̀͋́̔͋̈́̀̔̋́̔͋̈́͆̿̇̓͑̓̓̿̍̀̑̃͒̚͘͘̚͝͠͝͝͝͝ͅH̷̨̢̢̨̛̛͍͎̳̳̹̰̮̹̞̼̬̭̫̞̻̰̹̥͈̠̮͕̖̰̊͒̃̐͛̇̀͛̋͌̐̔̐͑̊̀̌̾̀̈́͗̅̅̈́̽͐͛̇͑̈́̀͊̇͗̆̀̓̚̕͜ͅͅĘ̸̧̨̨̨̢̨͕̰̳̹͔̩̙̻̝͓̣̙͙͎̲̩̱̫͉̘̱͙͔͍̳͔̠͈̟̙̘̺̮̺͇͉̩̝̘̫̼̮͕͕͖̮̼̏̀̈͜͜ ̶̢̡̨̡̡̧̢̢̭͙͍͙̝̣̦̝͖̙̦̫̘̺̠̬͕̹̭̻͚̠̥̻͕͎͖̹̠̮̥͔͉͉̲͍̪͚͉̮͎͙̠̍̑̋͒͐̔̋̓́̌̀́͂̍̾̽̑͑͂͌̓̂̂̉̓̒͋̽̅̂͂̈́̎̅͑̅̈́̅̌̎̇̆̔̚̚͘̕͘̕̕̕͘͘͜͝͠͝͝͝ͅÊ̵̡̛̛̫͖̪̮̖̥͈̩̩͓̹͂̈́́͗͂́͂̈́́̈́͐͂̄͛̓̎̄͑̇͋̇̀͆͋̉̐̉̉̅́̑͆̃́́̏̆̅̏̀̑̚̚͜͠͝͠Ņ̵̡̡̧̤̲̝̟̖̟̮̻̯̳̥̮̞̣̟͚̟̳̗͚͉̤͎̞̝̝̫̙̞͍̻̮͇̪͈̩͎̥̣̃͌̂̀͒̔͗̿̌̈́͂͑̃͌͑̊͊̇̾͐̋̋̽̈́́̓͆̀̃̕͜ͅḐ̴̧̢̨̡̛̛̱̰̪̳̥̮̫̙̬̟̯͕̖͙̯̺̹͙̱̖̝͙̝͍͚̘̗̗͍͈͍̣̗̣̻͙̦͚̗̼̞̣̟̮͉̜̲͎̤͓̳͇̄͂̐̎̾́͐̒̈́̊͑̄̿̍͐̓́̂͒̀̈́͗͐̈̋̅̽͂̽͌̋̅̋̐̅̔͒̒͂͂̈͊͒̓͘͘̕͘͘̕͝͝͝͝ͅͅL̴̢̛̖̘̟̙͓̥͔̟̞̺̦̭̯̹̬͍̥̭̤̟̩̐̆͌͒̓̆̐̽̈́̓̋̃̀̑̑͐̐̀͛͗̂͒̇̓̕͝ͅȄ̵̢̢̡̨̢̟̰͍̬͕̲͍̖̹͇͇̹̞̬͓̮̘͎͇͙̳̮̪͙͇̣̖̺̹̥͕̙͓̬̙̱̼͙̫̠̰͎̺͈̳̭̰̲͈͈̘̙̫̪̰̓͒͌̂́͑̏̊̀̈̓̑̉̀̀͒̿̇̽̋͛͆͋͘͝͠͠S̵̨̡̨͍̤̹̰̗̹̪̥̤̭̼̞͇̟̫͇̤̹̮̗̲̼͋̈́̑͑̋́̀̂̎̈̓̋͛̄̿̾͊͒͒̌́̅̆͛͗̉̿̈́̏̿͒͑̏̑̌͊͊̉͗͆̿̀͑̂͘̕͜͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅŞ̵̨̧͈̼̫̺̜̟͍̺̺͔̝̖͍̗̖͓̫̖̺̳͕͚̲̙̝͔͉͍̱̫͈̲̍̊̿̾͆̀̋̈́͊͐̒̂̂̕͜ ̸̧̢̨͙͇͙̜͔̜̳̲̘̘̤͍͙̘̰͉̳͖̘̱͎̙̠͉͈͎̺͔̝̝̩̝̹̯̥̹̱̤̘͎͖͓͕̼͍̜͙̯̤͎̼̑̈́̈͒̓́̃̇̀̾̉͒̈́͂͆͌̂̀̿̏̀̾̄̈́̔͂̈̀̏̿̇̈̇͆̈́͛̈́͂͊̋͌̚̚͠ͅͅḐ̶̨̡̧̧̩̫̭̲̠̪̬̯̖̟͈̙̼͚̳͔͍̯͚̦̞̘͇̺͉̪͓̜͔̝̙͎̩̮̐̉̽̉̿͌͑̕͜ͅǍ̷̛͓̫̼̻̜͚͙̹̰̯͕͕͔̦̩͔̭̌͛͆̂̊̍͊͊̾̓̄R̸̢̧̡̨̛̛̛͔̭̭͔͙̱̞̥̟̠̳͙̪̠̘̗͎͙͚̻̼̮̤̦͔͕̜̝̘͙̰̜͕̞̘͈̰͖̗̼̘͕͍̮̞̣͖̾̆͋̿̃͐̍͊̽̇͌̽̈̓͆̽͂̍͊͗̒̓̓͊̈̍̇̋́̏̂̈́̈̾̐̐̓̇̏͛̈̆̓̑͆̆̓̐̾̕̕͘͜͜͜͝͝͝͠͠ͅK̸̼̰͕̤̦̙̞̼͈̣͉̫̬̖̝͖̻͔̼̮̦̭̘͓͕͔͎̟͕̬̹̣̠̫͉͑́͋̌̈́̓̀̐̀̉͐͌̑̋́̄́̈́̇͊̒̍̒̌͊̽̇̒̆͌̾̉͗̾̀́̕̕͘͘͜͝͝͝͝!̴̜̣̤͖̥̿͗̀̌̏̕͝!̵̛̛͇̼̰̱͇͇̥̩͎̲̗͈̳̼̞̜̱̗͎͉͖̖͔͗͋̂̍̐̐̈́͛̅̉̓̇̈͛́́͑̅͊̿̔̍̾̄͌͛͗͌͐͐̈́̐̑͑̒̎̌̀̈͒́͐̏͘̚͝͝͠͝ͅ"̴̧̨̡̛̩͖̤͈̘͎̪̩̖̰̩̅͑͑͛̑̔̅̐͐̏͌̔̈́̿̐̎̈́͒̋͋̾͐̒̒͆̊̃̌̈͛̔͆̒̏͛̾̏̓̑̒̌͒̀̊̊̈̊͛̀͘̚͘͝͠͠͝
She remembered that dark blade forged by one of the many things that languished outside "the world" though she didn't want to, she remembered red thorns and a hungering… something, it hurt to think of much less remember and yet it was still her place to know.
For she was the King of Bards, twice born, wanderer of the reverse side and through it wanderer across time a witness to the deeds of the many, she had seen the deeds of the blessed crow, the sun's son, the time lost hunt and many more of those who had come before. It was her place to know the stories, to know the myth, to know the truth. She cursed it sometimes the distance she could feel building and how it felt safer within that distance. She had witnessed that dread battle beyond time where a red thorned shadowchaser fought against a… god? Abomination? Dragon? Beyonder? Witness itself was a strong word for despite the many battles she had seen in that dead realm it was the only one where her memory was faulty. She cannot remember its shape, she cannot remember its name, she cannot even remember if it had one, she cannot even remember how it was beaten!
She knows the witch doesn't remember it and she knows it is for a very different reason than why the rest of her memories have faded to dust.
A tomb that was also a prison, a blade that drank deep yet could never be satisfied, a memory of the unimaginable helpless horror she could feel from the witch.
What could she possibly do in the face of all that?
A smile on the king's face, Kay's cheeks flushed red as they jested and laughed, innocence, hope. Dead. Done. She wiped her eyes and walked toward the path that would lead her to a court of winter and rest. She didn't want to be awake for this, she didn't want to see.
"Goodbye Kay... may… may you feel no pain."
And then she was gone without a trace, almost as if she didn't belong for in reality she didn't.
"Did you feel pain that day? With your own sword in your chest?"
Linebreak
Mash grabbed the two mages and desperately lunged aside, the stone sword axe pulverizing the place where they were standing mere moments ago. Olga was silent in shock and fear at the burning giant charging towards them.
"ANSUZ TIWAZ!" A spear of shining light pierced the giant impaling him against the wall, the Druid groaned at the strain but dragged Mash to her feet.
"We need to move, and we need to move now!" She looked back at the giant tearing out the wall behind him.
"Now! Fucking now!" They broke off running as Caster did his best to slow the beast down with various runes. But the city itself seemed to be shifting against them as walls of flame grew to trap them in
"Roman we need a rundown stat!" Director screamed at the hologram as a wall flew over their heads cutting off the main route, they turned down an alley doing their best to ignore the growing cacophony behind them.
"Shoot-shoot not sure what's useful!" From the corner of her eye, she could see him tearing his station apart in search of anything he could use. Some stray detail, some little weakness.
"TRY something damn it, I don't think we're going to get away!" He could do it Mash knew he could do something, Roman was reliable under pressure but this kind of pressure?
"Come on-come on" Mash face twisted in horror as she saw a building fall in their path trapping them in a dead end. They could jump but the time that'd be lost… "We're out of time Roman" Her voice huffed out exhausted and terrified.
Groaning and bruised Caster came crashing down upon their obstacle with Herakles following right behind him, his feet nearly smooshing the caster who leapt away hitting the ground right before them face first. Running wasn't going to help.
"Oh-oh! No defense! any attack will pierce his skin!" She threw the two into a random house, Olga yelped in slight outrage, but she paid it no mind, if they were going to have any hope of surviving this, she'd need her shield.
"Eye of the mind moron try again!" Caster got up and shot a pool of water behind them which Herakles ran into without hesitating, yet he flipped in the air just as a thunderbolt came crashing down upon the water. He didn't hesitate to shove his fist through a wall causing chains to burst out of it grabbing Herakles feet and dragging him through it. Roaring in fury Herakles could do nothing as the building collapsed upon him, of course it barely gave him pause but it did give a few more seconds.
"I'm trying!" Herakles jumped through the collapsed building sending shards of stone flying everywhere one nearly taking out Mash's eye.
"Shove it! Combat capabilities" Realizing that Roman wasn't going to be of much help Olga hurriedly asked the only one with experience in fighting this enemy, Caster.
"It's fucking Herakles with almost unlimited mana! What do you want from me?" A ball of flame launched like a baseball turned Herakles head all the way around yet the giant simply snapped it back into place. Charging forward, the berserker raised its sword axe to split him in two.
"Anything we need to not die!" Mash pulled on her power calling a wall of snowflakes to aid them or at least give Berserker pause, it had predictable results. Her shield barely raised in time to prevent her from being pulverized and still the force embedded her into the concrete.
"God's sake! Look, God-hand has been wiped out and he has no skin. Any attack is piercing, bravery has been removed and replaced with mental pollution! Mind's eye is the only skill he has left!" The Druid unleashed a chain of lightning upon the berserker tearing great rents in its "flesh" and pushing him back a few feet.
"So, what's the- Wait why is he regenerating!" Roman watched in horror as berserker quickly grew back his lost flesh.
"Because he's hooked up to the Fucking god of EVIL!"
"WHAT!"
Herakles choose that moment to shatter the ground beneath them with a terrible earth breaking stomp sending them into the air Veins of dark mud and vile flames forming beneath the two pure servants. Cu Chulainn hit the wall, his runes barely mitigating the impact, the brave face she had gotten used to was gone in its place was trepidation and frustration. Somehow, she could tell that he was dead on the inside, such a feeling seemed wrong for the jovial caster. It signaled the end she supposed, if an experienced servant of the likes of Cu Chulainn felt like there was no hope then what could she do? Yet still… to give up the life she just got back? She may not have known how to fight but a voice still rang at the back of her head.
'We need to fight back, so long as we let him dictate the flow this battle is already lost. No foe is insurmountable we just need faith and a chance.'
Had that been her voice or more importantly did that matter at all? she made her choice. Mash hit the wall and pushed off with her feet, her shield hitting the giant with all the force she could muster sending those around into shock at such a reckless charge, there was no time to muse on their expressions as she knew if she lost a drop of momentum then she'd be torn apart, the road she chose had only one path: Forward. The giant slid back a few meters, she followed up with a fist to the jaw, shield slam on the toes combined with a shield parry and jab to the gut, the experience and skill of the servant that had caused her pain and gave her new life filled her right now. A knight in violet armor standing against the dark, her leg swung in high from the right smashing the rib cage, the top of her shield pulverized the elbow. She felt confidence, Root for the first time she actually felt something other than apathy or fear! For once in her life, she felt like she could actually do something of meaning! Yet-
"Pull back damnit!" Caster sent fire and lightning to strike the giant sending it reeling further. He tried to wave her back behind him the desperation obvious in his voice.
'Why we have it reeling we just need to capitalize on that, this could be over!'
She was winning, the giant was breaking, a small part of her wondered why Caster was so scared if a young Demi-servant like her could accomplish this? She swung out her fist to tear out a rib and then-.
CLURSH!
She realized that even as a version of him twice ruined the truth shall remain forever unchanged; he was Greece's greatest hero for a reason.
"KYAAA!" Mash screamed her lungs out as she could feel the bones of her arm pulp within its fist.
"NO!" Caster let loose a shout of outrage and unleashed a salvo of runes which Herakles ignored entirely swinging her up and throwing her into the ground unable to scream as all air was driven from her lungs.
"RAAARGH!" The booming roar emphasized her buryment into the pavement, blood leapt from her throat as the giant stomped on her chest. She could hear Roman full of fear call her name and Olga's horrified grasp. A fist hit her again the pain becoming unbearable as her servant constitution barely held her together. A third time, the feeling of something bursting within her became known. He raised her above his head to snap her stubborn spine.
"HAGLAZ PERTH THURWIZ!" A dragon of icy thunder slammed into the giant tearing him in two her limp body released from his grasp. Pain bloomed in her chest as she hit the ground, but she did her best to ignore the pain as she dragged herself away from the melee, Fou doing his best to help as he tugged her collar away from the once again healing Berserker. It's wounds gone, it tore his foe to shreds with its bare hands. The dragon not even able to give a mournful warble before the magic sustaining it faded to dust. But berserker wasn't the only one not to care for failure as the Druid threw together rune chains and sent them to strike the berserker drawing its full attention. Allowing Fou to get her to safety.
"Mash! Oh god, oh god oh god" She could barely see Romans hologram with the blood dripping in her eye.
"D-d-Doctor?" She weakly grasped to the shaky image just beyond her sight.
"Hold it together Ms. Kyrielight" The Director's words were curt yet still she could sense the fear in them, was it concern over what would happen if she fell or was it something genuine? She still wasn't sure if she was alive enough to know that look. She stared at the bloody director and the sleeping magus behind her, she still felt bitter, without help she was likely to die again and still she could not muster much beyond slight disappointment. So in effort to escape the dreaded thoughts that rang throughout her head she limply rolled it to the side where the battle raged on and a hound spit his fury to the winds.
"Not one more! You hear me you Mudspawned bastard!? NOT ONE MORE!"
With a fury beyond what she thought had been possible Caster went in swinging, his staff wrapped in solar flame sending Berserker into the air, a roar of rage escaped his lips as augmented by the light of his runes he slammed him down into the earth. The oaken staff shattered at the force of the blow, the semi-phantasm unable to handle the stress and energy; He didn't care. Runes formed gauntlets around his fists, and he struck with the fury of a thunder god as Herakles rose again and again the blows never being able to destroy him all at once. An upswing of the sword axe threw him back bloody yet still standing a gash on the middle of his chest. The druid panted, his torso heaving with exertion and effort yet still he pushed forward, he slammed his fist together and called upon the mists and words shared by every version of Cu Chulainn upon the throne save one.
"I AM A KNIGHT OF THE RED BRANCH! I HAVE CARVED MY SCARS INTO THE LAND, I HAVE CLAIMED THE HEADS OF LEGENDS AND HUNG THEM UPON THE CROEB DERG, BY MY OATH AND ORDER OPEN THE TEITE BREC! GRANT ME AMERGIN'S STAFF!"
As he spoke a red fort appeared behind him in a shroud of mist, it was blurry as if it was a mirage or an afterimage. But the result was real enough, a staff of aspen wood carved with runes and images of times long gone appeared in his hands. It was the staff of a traveler who had fought the Tuatha de Danann and won claiming Ireland from the hands of both god and fae, the staff of a poet and wiseman who delved into the spirit world to learn tales of ages past, the staff of the greatest druid who had ever lived and with it he could awaken the land around him in ways not even a shaman could.
"AWAKEN DANU AND LOOK UPON THE DEVASTATION THESE DEFILERS HAVE WROUGHT. LET THEM KNOW THAT THIS WORLD STILL LIVES AND IT SHALL TOLERATE THIS PAIN NO LONGER."
"FEALL AN DOMHAIN!"
She could feel the world shudder at those words as the staff slammed down into the ground, a noble phantasm, the crystallization of a legend. Though his legend never was one of that of a druid he was nonetheless still one of them, it was his right to call upon Danu, and with that staff it was no longer just a right but a certainty. A Noble Phantasm.
The very world turned against the giant as concrete and steel wire joined ice and roots to tear the very flesh from his bones, she could see the abomination become even more horrendous as it was slowly torn apart to the point where it should have been dead. Yet still it would not fall. If it was missing pieces of its skull then It grew it back. If it's legs were gone it would still push itself forward past the storm until they grew back. Was all muscle stripped from the bone? It didn't care, it kept moving forward. He kept rising again and again. She now knew why Caster was afraid. For no matter what Caster threw at it the same song and dance would play again and again and again.
For the end was never in question it was just a matter of time and his was almost out. So, she pushed herself to her feet despite the Director's protests and her own pain, her arm may have been pulped but she still had another one. She pushed herself out of the store and put one foot in front of the other, faster now, each step faster until she was running, the momentum carrying her more than her actual strength. Her shield dragged behind and she couldn't find the strength to raise her head to see the battle yet still with one final leap she threw herself and her shield before the fallen druid groaning on the ground. She'd die, she knew that but maybe… maybe this was enough? She had fought, fought to her last and hadn't betrayed herself in doing so. But still that flame... ever so distant
Then a voice rang through the flames, Rough as if speaking through pain yet still strong.
"By my command seal DEMI SERVANT USE YOUR NOBLE PHANTASM!"
Light sprang from her shield and then… Pain. She was back on the operating table feeling the needles entering her skin unable to let out a mournful sigh, she was sitting at a grand stone table where friends and allies laughed and pondered, she was sitting in a dark room hir mind a vapid void, he was fighting the darkness shield in hand monsters surrounding her yet he did not break, She kneeled before a great shining light, he followed Ophelia and Pepe around in one of their attempts to make her feel, she was holding a sword, he was wearing glasses.
He-
She-
He-
She-
He-
She-
He-She-He-She-She-He-He-SheH̵̭̭̒e̸̝̐͂S̵̡͍̋ḧ̸̫́͝ê̸̡̕Ḫ̸̍e̷͕͎̋S̸̖̐h̶̜͘e̴̹̹͐H̶͍̄̃e̸̳̊S̷̔͋͜ḣ̶̻̙͛e̶̟̿͊H̸̨̛̙̍é̶̜S̴̤̲͌h̴̤͛e̴͉̓͜H̶̦̒̊e̴̺͍͑S̸̳͘ẖ̵̆̓e̶͇̟̒H̵̯̤̆͘e̷̹͔͛̕S̸̭̲͊h̴͕͐̃ẽ̶̥̤͑H̶͚̒e̴̛̦̪Ś̶̲̾h̶̲͍̾͐e̴̞̭͋́H̴̩̚e̷͉̓̂S̴̝̽h̸̬͚̅̿ę̷̚H̴̙̪̑͑e̷̪͛S̶̙̱̒ḧ̷̠̫́͝e̵͇͋S̴͍̺͔̞̟̓̊͜ḥ̶̨̜̦̠̀̾͛e̶̤̻̤̣̒̒̾Ḫ̴̇̈̉͆̿é̷̲͓͔̤͚͕S̷̢̱̻̳̹̆̈͘h̵̩̟͎̏̓͠e̵̗̭̖͛H̸͚̲͚̖̙̿̄͝͝e̴͙͕̱̓̂S̴̱͚̫̮͊̇͑̀ḧ̶̜̞̭ḛ̸͔̥͙͓́͗̒H̸̛̬̳̀ḛ̷͙̖͓̀͗̌̀S̵̛̙͙͖͈̆h̸͎̳̯͊̑̔̚̚e̸͔͚͐H̴̡̭͍̗͊̾̈̃̚͜ë̷̯͇́̂S̸̮̮͓͚̞̩̈̃̆͝h̶͔͌ȩ̶̤̓̆̄H̷͎̅̃́́ē̶̗̅̓͋̋S̷̘̒͐ẖ̸̤̮̰̙̠͋̈́̇ẹ̶͙͍̻̺͓̆̈́͌̏̔͠H̷̝̺͔͒é̷̦̋͑̀̀Ś̶̛͖̬͇̻̤͆̅͛ͅh̶̨͉͚̦̻̫̓̅̃ȩ̶̛̞̲̲̤̔̏̈́H̷͈̤͉̜̐̅̊͜͜͠ẽ̴̛̼̮̗͒̿̈́͠ͅŚ̸̝̮̲͙͍͘͠ḧ̷̢̫̤̤̰́̓̆̋̑e̸̝̗̱̿̍̈Ḫ̷̢̫̞̃̋͜e̸̗̮̊̃S̷̪̟̃̈́̎̔h̴̙͝ë̷̢̮̝͙͍̥̾̉Ḧ̶̻̪͉́͐e̸̛̗̱̬͉̮̅̾̐͑S̷̨̱͎̙̽̍͐̋͝ͅh̸̡̨̲̟͊̂͠͝e̵͚̝͓̝̱̽̑̑̿͜͝H̸̼̝̾ȩ̶͖̙̹͛́̆͗͛͂S̶̢̘̀͒͋̍͘h̴̟̥̲̝̑͛͌e̵̼͆͌̐͒͝͝H̷̡͈͚̖̊͘e̸͍̗͉̔͆̑̊̚S̷̛̠̉̀͜ͅẖ̴̗̱͒͘ȇ̵̼͔̜̎͂H̶̱̭̻̬͌̾̈́̿ͅe̶̜̯̐S̸̝̼̙͚̈́́̔̽̂̕h̷̛͉̑̔̆͜e̴̥̣͇͚̝͝H̴͓̤̩̐̾͆̈͂̆ẻ̷̩͌̋̈́͋S̸͍͕͓͊̃ḧ̷͔ͅę̵͉̲͕̣̳̈́̏̑̋̽̚Ĥ̴̘̘͔͍̽̓͑̆͜è̸͉̹̥̇̇̔Ŝ̷͍̙̲͆̓͠͝h̷̝̞̰̯͚́̉̎ę̸̪̖̘͂̀͒̌ͅḪ̷͇̞̫́͒͐͛e̶͔͙͐̌͋͑̌̚S̸͇̻̩̞͆h̶͉̳̭͓̣̀̓͊̾̑e̴͍̯͇͍̎̇H̷̨̻̮̘́͗͝ḛ̴̫̰̲̹̾̂̎̇͝S̶̝̆̑̈́̅̚h̷̠̘̹̙̪̯̄e̸̝͈̍͜ͅH̸̨̙͈̣͂͋̾́e̵̦̳͍͚̽͑S̵̩̃̀͆̚h̶̡̢̞͉̺́e̵̥̠͐̎̂͛͒H̷̰̼̟̑è̷̦̇̓̇̎͠S̵̨͇̩̬͋̀h̸͈̟͕̼̙̐̿̍̈̚è̴̬͕͉̦͓̚H̴̞̲͇͎͒̇e̴̢͔̗̳̎Ş̷̛̯̻̜̽̈́̈͘ȟ̵͓̱͖̱͇ė̶̢̬͉̒H̵̦͔͈͌͊̔̀e̴̻͕̜̖̮͓̋̈͆̿͝S̷̖̟̖̪̽͆͋̆̉h̶̼͖͑͝ḛ̸̯̩͖̚͜Ḩ̵͔̩̄̽͝ė̷̫̚ͅŜ̴̳͚͍̰͇̗̃h̸̬̿̉̈͜e̶͚̥͆̃͠Ḩ̸̛̟̂̐̒͠ę̷͍͗̄̅̄̈́̊S̴͍̃̓h̸͍͝e̵̡̬̬̖̖̎H̶̢͍̼͖͕̋̇ë̷̺́͂̈̈̇S̷̡͓̬͚͉̙̈̿̐̈̑͝h̴̰̝̦́̓̋̉͛e̸̙͖͚̣͑̐̒̚H̵̢̙͖̤́́è̸̬̪̣̼̆̍̕S̶̛̬͊̇̉͛̐h̸͕͇̭̫̹͐̀̈ë̷̬̰̠̼̦́̌̏̌̇͜H̷̛͚̆̑e̸̲̣̗̩̖͓̾̆̓̌͝S̷̮̔h̸̨̼͇̍e̵̫̟͌͛͑́͛̾Ḧ̶̳͇́e̶̡̡̗̰͓͐̅S̸̬̩̠͙̟̃̊̅͋͋h̷̞̱̮̥͐͗̅́̆̕e̵͕̘͙͇̍̌̇̚H̴̳̜͍͇̹̜̋͊̚e̷̪̍̽̃̅ͅS̵͇̓͐̂h̷̗͔͗̓͐͒̀͝ȅ̶͕̼͂̐͘H̵̞͘ḙ̷̫̣̫͌̓͒S̴͓̮̠̲̯͒́̚h̵̬̙̟̾̀͝͠ẻ̵̞̤̺̖͗̌̂͂̕H̵͚̳̖̗̽e̶̫̞͛̽̆̍̐͂Ś̸̪̜̽͗ḣ̴̥̪̟̜̻̤͑̏ȇ̶̢̟̬̮̱̪̓̽͘H̶͉̑͛e̴̬̪̱̖̎̿̈͌S̶͕͐̐̇̀̉͘ͅḧ̷͖̗́͋͑͠ẽ̵͎Ḩ̵̺͔͐̿̑e̶͎̾̿̀̏̈́̾Ş̸̣͙̇̆h̴̡͎͝ẹ̵̥̓̐̌̏H̸̤̻̦̥̹̄͋́̋͘͝ḛ̵͇̖̟̠̬͝S̵̲̳̹͌̈́̿̚̚h̴̭͉̔̆̂e̴̯̟͇̳͖͖͛͌̓͠H̵̱͆̄ȅ̶͔̠͐̉̏̃S̵̢͖̦̝̔͐͑͆͐ḫ̴͝e̷͛ͅH̷̭̻̘̙͗̇̉͋̆̓ẹ̸̡̮̦̗̈͌̈́̈́̕͠S̶̡̗̏̿̂́̈́̚h̸̳̯̩̝́̾̂͗e̸̛̠̲̅H̵̯̊̊ē̶̖̆̀̓S̵̛̤̠̤̞̉̽̄͌h̸̘̬͓͍̠͑͆̕e̷͈̟̽͜͜H̶̼̗͑͛̚͝ȩ̸̣͎̭̩̐͠S̶̼̀̀̈́̇̕͠ḩ̷̩͔̅̑͘͝ȩ̴̺̺̮́̇͘̕H̶̼͖̪̯̓͐̿̇͌̃ę̴̝̣̠̻́̂̑̄̐̚Ŝ̸̻̝͔͌͆̿̄̇h̴̘̫̘̰͔̃̉̎͠ȩ̶̞͓̍̇̄͜H̴̰̳͓̺̟͚͊e̸̥̻̜̾̒͜S̶̟̠̭͔̗̋̋̽h̷̻͎͍̺̔̀̈́e̸͕̖͐͐̒͒̍͠H̴͖͚̻͈̓e̴̗̤͍̟̰͒́̎͂͘̕S̶͖͕͗͂́͘͝h̷̖͒̐͋e̵̢͔̘̋̏̆̀͝͝Ḧ̸͓̳͕̰́e̴̳̩̫͙͖̎̏̋͒̈́Ś̴̛̲͇͉̪͉͈͠h̶̩̱͌̒̏e̸̛̤̫͈̯̘͌H̶̱̓͊̇͘è̵̢̲̦̺͙S̵̐͊̓ͅh̴̙̯͋̈́̒͑͌è̶͕͉̒Ḩ̶̠̻̹͎̏̾͗̓̇e̸̺̠̦̥̽Ṣ̸̨̬̯̖́h̵̢̹̰͗̽̾̐ȩ̷͇͔͔̈́̋̀̑H̶̼͔̀̋̈̆́͝ḙ̵̺̳̳͐̏͝S̷̱̘̝͗͗̇͘ͅh̶͔̺̝͗͋͗̽ȅ̷̙͖̤Ḩ̸͗̉̈́̾ȅ̵̦̳̬̭͓̣͑̈́̀S̶̡͔̃͠h̸͙̦̯͇̺̐̐̍̂̈ȩ̷̥̫̯̇Ḫ̸̃̆e̴͇͈̥̻͖͊̈́̈̊̋S̶̯͕̭̘͔̽̍̏͐̾̂ḩ̸͎̗̓̃͊̂́͝e̶̘̩̖̙̻͋̆H̸̠̲͕͊̋e̴͚̳͔̜͂̍̽̎̔͝ͅS̶̡̹̲̱̃͑ḣ̸̛͔͙̳̗́̈́̅̄ͅͅȇ̶̜͐̏̍̐͝Ḧ̶̭̘̙̩̹̳́͌̽e̸̛̙̖͚͒̿S̵̞̈́̈́̊̕ͅȟ̶̭̱̣̿͂̀̌ë̸̛̼͑͗̏̿H̵͙̣̓̅͘e̷̡̥̪͇̳͊͗̑Ṣ̷̺̅̊̄́̕h̸̰̣̠̖̙́͌͗e̷̫̠͖̖̤̣͛́H̶̡̲̣̠̘͛͐́e̷͎͉͉̱͚̍̒̅͋̒̈́S̴͚͊̉͜h̴̡͇̻̙͓̹͠͠e̷͎̫̪̥̅̂H̵̛̄́ͅę̸̯̖̤̤̅́̽̒S̶̛̜͈̗̻͔̫̒̌̏̔̏h̷̰͐́͗͂̕è̷͍͍̂̋͠H̵͔͔̬̳͚̄̎̓͑e̶̲̿͋̈̓̓̕Ş̶̥̻̽h̴̭͍̻́̈́͋͗̚ë̷̦͙̀̊̑̑H̴̗̜̤̯̓e̸̛͍͎͈̬̝̔̽̐̃̕Ş̸͍͕̋ḧ̶̺̞̜͕̌̎ę̵̜̦͎̻̤͂̄͑͐̄͘Ḧ̵͚͜e̸̙̎̎̇̚S̸̡̬̬͓̩̀͗͛h̵̥̭̝̜̔̌̔̉̏́e̸͇͉̻͉͚̅Ḥ̵͍̠̦͗̇̒̍ͅẹ̵̯̌͋̀͌̂S̵̩͔̣̹̣͔͌͗͋̑̎ḩ̸̠̽̋̏̚e̸̯̍͌̈́̕H̴̺̤͑̾̍́̿̚͜ͅẻ̴̡̩̥͙̺̅͋̍̈̐͜S̶̢̛̻̞̣̜̥͊ḣ̸̢̜̱͕̤͚̉̉͛͝e̶͈̣̔Ḧ̴̭́͐̀́̇e̶͈͊̉̆̿̎̕S̴̱̭̘̜͐̆́̕͘h̷̦͕͚̱̪̤̐͗̅͆̂͝ę̶̠̳̀̕H̵͍̲̙̭̆è̵̡̠͆S̸̹̱̟̓̇̈́͋ḧ̷̢͙̞̣̩̫́͒͝ë̸͎̦̌̃̓̓ͅͅH̵̹̊̈͜ȅ̸̘̽S̸̩͕̭͚̾̔͋̽͌͝h̷͈̪̜̖̊e̶̛̩̳̠̘̫̥͆H̸͈̱̘̟̏͛̓͆e̶̬͗͒̿͛̔͐S̴̱̜̈͒h̶̺͍̦͙͗̓͋̈́e̴̺̭͖̺̙̗͗̀͌͐H̶̹̦̻̲͘ȩ̴͇̥͈̉͝S̸̛̩͖̔ḥ̶̮̬̜͙̎̊̒ͅe̴̞͋̇̒̊̀̓Ḩ̸́̐̂̂̚ȩ̶͖̪͍͂̈́̔͊͂S̴̳̖̠͗̓̈́h̴͙̫̺̙̳͆͜ē̷̢͔͓̻̳̯̂͘H̵̥͓̄̓̾́̌e̴̡̘̙̊̂͛͠S̶̨̹̲͙̍̈́h̷̢̗̱̄͆̋̕ę̶̢̇͆͑͗͛̕Ḧ̸̦͔̰̭̲́e̸̡͔̥̝̲͒͠ͅŞ̷͕̦͍̹̹̃̊̿h̸̼͌̀̆͘e̷̯̥͆H̴̦̺̪̬̩̗̀͑ë̵̝̳̼̻̮͎̈́́͐S̸̙͚̺̮̃̾͘ḩ̷̲̻͈̝̼̽e̸̙̲͍̪̙̔́̏Ĥ̶̩̪̫͙̱̰̈́͝è̶̟̲̏̔̾̔̇S̴͙͉̝̺̓h̸͚̩̠̓̆ȩ̶̛͖̪̏̃H̸͖͍͖̟̊̄̆͛ĕ̷̬̒̂̃́͠Ś̶̟̼͙̟͝ḩ̶͙̻͖́ę̷͎̪̥̃̉̅̃͌̈́H̵̨͍͕̟̩̼͑̒̾e̷̢͖̜̖̙͒̀̄̉S̵̪͓̣̯̱̔̉̏͑͑̕ͅh̷̜̺͖̝̝͖̊̌͠e̴̗͚̖͉̐̎̊͆͘͠H̶̬̖̙̭̘̜̿e̶̺͎̘̰͐͊́̑̾̚ͅṢ̵̛͌̇̃̄͠ȟ̴͈͖̥̩̈́̚̕ę̶̢̱̱̣̿̔͝H̴̟̪͎͊ě̵̢̧̼̫̓̒̈̅́Ş̴͇̮̲͊h̶͔̮͍͇̪̔̈̽̚͠ẹ̵̢̖̱͕̈́̏͘H̸̜͎̥̼͘͘͝e̴̛̻͉͗͛́͝Ŝ̵̡̼̩̠͎̰̆͐h̸͓̹̳͊̑̀̀ë̷̦͈͕̦́̏͗̇̽̾͜H̵̻̱̩͉̰̆͋e̷͙̬͔͗͛̏͊̅̚Ṡ̵̬̌̍̈̆h̷̨͕̀̀̓̈́͒e̴͎̥͉̓̚Ḩ̶̈̀͑̈͝ę̶̥̘̤̝̲̇̀͋̈́͆̚S̸̢̞͈̜̈́ḩ̶̢̹̘͈͍͑͌͛̐͑͘e̶̮̞͆̀͠H̶͕̮͖̗̾͑́̋̚ȇ̷̡̮̺͉̯̳̅S̶̢͇͚̰̙̑̑͆͘h̵̖̣̳̘̏ȩ̸̭̖̿H̸̲̏͛͌e̷̫̼͎̠̻̻͂̐̅̈́̏͊S̷̪̩̬̮͘ͅh̷͖̱̙̪͊̇̎̕ẽ̴̺̀̒͌̌͛H̴͙̯̠̔̀͌̽̅͛ȇ̸̛͖͖͓͊̀S̷̡̱̞̺̰̝̄̑́͘̚͝h̶̢̦̞͑́̈́ȅ̷̠̊̃̅͠͝H̸̜͈̖͋̾̄e̷̼̱͎̘͚̅̊̓̄́͝S̴̥̰̰̀̎͗́h̸̥̖̘͔͋͗̇͆̏̍e̴̘̖̜̠̔̂̽͆̎͛͜H̷̢̰͔̲̻̓̔͌̈̽ę̸͚̭̼̠͎̄̅͊͆̋Ŝ̴͉̟̟̖̺͑h̴̖̊e̶̯̠̜̓͐̀͊̓ͅH̸̢̖̟̙̄̑͋͝ͅẹ̵̫̬̘͖͈̓͋̕͝S̷̩̫͌͆̅̎͆͜͝ḧ̷̨̪̩̦̺̩́̂͝͝e̶̫͑̈́̀H̴̗̮̻̐̾͒̉͠ḛ̴̠̟̈̀̀͋S̶͕̿̅͋ḧ̵̖e̶̜͓͊̎H̵̤̖̭̦̙̬̒̒̒̉̕͝e̸͙̼͉̥̽̔̽̀͘S̴̩͉͈͆͋̍̚̕͝h̸̞̝̮̙́̽̕͝é̵̲̘̳͉͒̐͐̋H̴̺̱͊̓̈́͛̋͐e̴̛̗̼̱̠̥̪̋͑S̸̟̬͉͙̩͐̎̎̈́̚ͅh̵͉̉e̷̹̣͖͛͜ͅH̴̡͈̖͍͈̊̓ĕ̵̏͌͜S̴͈̞̖̽̿͠ḫ̸̫͋̀͝e̶̖̹̿H̸̤̃̾̄̽͂e̵̜̳̻̾͠S̴̯̟͈̯̯̍̎̒͜h̶̞͕͎͇͒̈́͌̄͑͝ͅè̶̱͍͎̘̮̠̾̈́̔̓̉H̷̛̘͍̪̪ͅe̶̘̙͊̀͌̒S̵̮͖͝ĥ̴͓e̵͔̤͉̳̒̑̂̔ͅH̷̤̹͓͍̤̋̈́̿̚̕͝e̴̼̐́͛͌̽Ş̴̞̺͛͊̏͘h̶̨̦̠̑̇̑e̴͔̽̽͋H̶̤̱͙̲͆͌͊̀e̵̱̮̜͖͂̓͝S̶̳̎̏̈́͐͛̉h̶̡̪̫͓͊̃̈́̈́̔̾͜ë̷̛̩̯́̓̓͝Ḧ̴̠͓̱̹̹͚́͠é̴̛̪̄̂̽̕S̴͙̮̜̱͗͊̈͝ẖ̷̛̛̝̗̬̈́̚ͅȇ̵̻̲͊̂̽̑̃H̷̙͓̬̩̓͌̄̔͠͝ͅĕ̷̥̤̐̎̄̓͝S̴̭̏h̵͈̳̼̾̏́͛̆͛ȩ̵͖̥̠̖́ͅH̴͍̦̲̪͛̎é̵̡̛̙͙̻̼̈́̑̒͌S̷̡͙̘̯̊̇h̶̨͚̱̄͒̒͌̊e̸͖̅͂͘͠H̸̲̖̲̙͑̽e̷̜͔̥͍͂̈́̾̎͘Ş̵̓͋͠ẖ̵̛͙̳̝̉̍̐͊̀e̴̙̗͍͌̈́̌̽͐͒H̸̺̔̚ḛ̸̜̈́͗͘Ș̸̼̮̯̀̽̄̒͠h̵̗͔̺̖̔̾̂e̷͕͆̾̾̈́̿̀Ḩ̶̢̢͚̭̈́̈́̍̇e̴̛̛̜̟̬͙̱͓̓̿̓S̶̢̡̼̯̩̰͋̀̀ḫ̷̪̠̦̥͎͝e̷̡̢̤̖̜̞͗͗̉͐͝H̵̢̼̠̙́̈́͘ę̷̜͍͕͗Ş̵̬͉̖̏͆̔̄̇h̵̠͒̌́̽͋ė̴̮̘̤̙H̸̢͈̘̤͇̪͑̆́͋̓̈è̵̛̼̰̀̓́S̶̳̘̲̝̠̅́̉̚h̶̘͐̈́͌͋ë̴̡̳̘̗̗̋̐̔̔̚H̴̤̻̯̣̾́̌͋̓͘ȩ̸̐̍̚S̵̭͍̐̉̊͠ͅh̵̞̠̝̯͚̦̃̂͐͑̒e̶̹̐̈̒̃̈́͠H̷͍͊̈͒͋̓e̶̩̖̲̦̤̤͗̽͝Ŝ̶̟̻̻̣͚h̸̡̯͇̏̄̏ë̵̫̥̫̻H̷̛͙͗͋̽ȩ̷̺̜̪̣̐͆S̷̫̼̤͚̋́h̸͕̫̦̼̭͑̎̏̃́́e̵̤̐Ḧ̷̪́ẽ̸̱͎͕̂̏͒͋S̵̨̅̋̎͗̈́ḫ̸̛̺̘̃ḛ̴̦̞͈͆́̈́H̴̼̐̓͌̌ȇ̵̯̫͝S̵̝̳̺̅̄̒͆̕͠h̷̿͆̂͠ͅe̵̛̥̟͙͐̚H̸̯̘̲̕ḙ̵͍̝̎̔̌̿̆S̴̰̳̤̖̋͛̔̍͠ḩ̸̞̭͉̞͝é̷̡̫H̸̱͕̲͕̼̣̽̒̏̂e̵͍̰̠̓̓̆Ṣ̶͙̘̖͋ḥ̸͌̏̏̔̚é̸̹͈̺́̓̃̚̕Ȟ̸̢̳̳̀͋̒̇͒ȅ̷͚̜̪̌̂͊̚͜͝S̶̨̎ĥ̶͍̯͚̾̉̕e̴͚̗͎̳̽͠H̸̢͈̼̐e̸̛͉̥̠̜Ṣ̸̟̠̂̑͜h̴̢̳̙̹̣͑́͑ë̸̞͚͙͕̽̏̌̈́̚͜H̸̲̮̤̙͛̒͝ẹ̵̮͖̆͆̆S̶̢̡̟͌̀̎̈̾h̴̥͇̬̥͔̖͑̆̽͆ẹ̵̡̻̦̪͙̓̊͊̍Ḩ̵̤̦̰͉̎̈́̉é̶͕̟̟̮͉͗̔̊ͅS̴̡͚̞̫̼̔͑̿̐̕h̶̛͖̹̙̓͋e̵̗͍̳͙̊H̴͕̳̭̺͑ë̵̛̮̣̙̰͙̥́̋͑Ś̸̡͍͌̅̚h̶̳̤̖̝̬̱̋̾͂̿é̴̖͖̟̲̳͓H̵͇̦̟͐̓ȩ̸̖̏́͗͊S̸̨̘͙̲̼͌͠h̶̟̭͉̓͗̂͒́͝e̴̳̪̋H̷̱̠͓̜͕͊ḙ̵̗͎͔̱̟̈́͂̅̊̕Ș̶͎͔̗̬͒̍͘h̴̞̃̄͆̇́͒ȩ̵͕̖̝͆̂́͒͘Ḩ̴̨̻͎̰͇̽͌̈́̾e̴̢͉̮̟̍̇S̷̫̍͑̉̈́h̴̼̟̣̓͂̂̕͠e̸͎̓͝ͅH̴̬͚̭̖̄̇̂̚ȩ̸͍͎̳̘̀̾̕S̴̢̡͙̻̲͝ḩ̴̛̭̱̺̓̕e̷̞̺̿͂̒̍
'It hurts-it hurts-it hurts-it hurts-it hurts-IT HURTS MAKE IT STOP!'
A cloak appeared around her shoulders, her hair lost its pinkish tinge turning white as bone, She was taller and stronger, she-she was in and pain and yet almost subconsciously she softly whispered two words
"Lord ̴̨̰̫͔͔͈͕̙͚̄̍̐̀̌̉̾̾̈́͘̕Ĉ̸̺̦̞̌̓͛̕͘͝ ̷̛̗̜̠͇̋̇͐̋̉͑̓͆̅m̶̼̤͍̌̿̄̐̂̿͊͜*̶̡̛̩̲̞̾͂͒̈͐̈̂̎̚͘̚ͅ!̵̧̺͋̓̍̒̅̈́̾͊̐͠%̶̧̧̌͐̔͑͛̒̈́͒̈́͝t̸̺̲͎͛͛̍̎́̓̈́̿"
The light blossomed and the giant flew. She collapsed into Caster's arms, unable to do much other than groan and watch the ragged figure approach them. His movements unsteady yet unyielding. He wore a battered ash-soaked Chaldea Uniform and he bore the command seals of a master on his right hand.
"This has really not been my day" The last master of Chaldea, Harker Aldain had awoken.
(Linebreak)
There was a part of him that really didn't want to wake up, a small part of him but still a part of him. At the very least could they have won before waking him!
'Oh, but Harker it's a corrupted Herakles the most famous hero of all Greece in terms of power he's probably at the top! Quiet voice of reason, my grumpiness shall not be broken by simple logic.'
Grumbling to himself he picked up the two servants from their position on the floor. Blue was looking pretty battered but could probably go for a few more rounds but Eggplant (He's really going to need to ask her name at some point) looked as if she could barely stand, that and she looked… different and he didn't mean the armor Olga already explained the demi-servant thing, briefly. Thinking about it she was probably the designer baby his dad was pissed about.
'But I swear her features are… and her hair... (Sigh) Bigger things to worry about right now.'
"Anyone got a plan on how to kill this thing" He looked toward the resounding crash in the distance, Herakles's impact must have taken out one of the towers remaining supports and now it fell at last. It was going to get up again and attack, he could feel it.
"No, it's a relentless beast that barely feels pain and regenerates from any wound in an incredibly short time, best thing we can do is run" Caster slammed the butt of his staff into the ashy ground, the action seemingly giving him strength.
"Perhaps we can make our escape?"
'Logical idea Eggplant, unfortunately…'
"Nah, seen its type before in a few outings when I was younger, it's the type of thing that doesn't give up once it has your scent" Whether it be boars, badgers, tooth tyrants or some of the more shall we say malevolent spirits the general principle was the same, they don't stop until you're dead or they are.
'Of course, that didn't mean you should run at them dick first, but you had to face them eventually, the point is to stack the deck to its fucking limit before that happens. (Sigh) Gaia's tits I wish I followed my own advice more oft than not.'
"Did you not hear what I just said boy? We barely drove him off this time and you actually want to fight him!" Blue rounded about lifting him by his collar looking like he was ready to fling him across the street.
"Who would've thought that the great (Urgh) Cu Chulainn famed child of light, would run from a fight" Olga somehow managed to place herself regally upon a piece of fallen concrete, though the air was somewhat ruined by the intermittent groan. Still, he didn't give her to much thought considering that the servant holding his throat was fucking Cu Chulainn!
'Wait. Cu Chulainn!? Holy- WoAH OOF!'
His thought process got cut off when Cu Chulainn threw him to the side walking towards the director, Eggplant grabbed his shoulder, but he shrugged her off easily.
"What am I supposed to fight him with? My runes? You saw him grow his everything back. Gae bolg? don't have access to it, unlikely to matter if I did. Riastrad? You're damn lucky I can't use that as a caster as I'd likely to kill you and I don't even know if it'd be enough to kill him!" He threw his arms up in frustration.
"You managed to kill Medusa pretty damn easily why not him" Roman soon regretted ever opening his mouth as the red eyed demigod turned his frustration upon the unfortunate doctor.
"Because Medusa and the others were nothing but worthless pawns in this bastard's eyes!"
"Who-" Olga
'Someone's controlling them? That's not good.'
"The Persian god of EVIL, Angra Mainyu that's the one pulling the strings here"
'And that's even worse.'
"Explain. Now." Harker warily turned his head towards the booms rising in the distance as Olga and Cu talked, they were running out of time for any sort of plan.
"In This timeline or whatever Angra Mainyu was summoned in an earlier war but was shortly destroyed due to being the weakest fucking servant with a shit phantasm. But still he was Angra Mainyu so in his weakness and hideousness he held on to life and held on to that hate and fear that created him. He fouled the grail like a parasite and when that was destroyed, he fouled innocents desperately clinging to life like a cockroach that just doesn't know how to die" He pointed to the mountain in the distance that loomed like a devil shrouded in darkness.
"We fought that bastard, all EIGHT of us and we barely won! Now all the other servants have been corrupted, it's just me left, if it's attention fully falls upon us how long do you think we can last!" Harker knew that the likelihood of him faking this was non-existent, Cu Chulainn had fought them for who knows how long and likely knew every one of the servants personally in both combat and as people. If he said they'd be defeated, then they'd probably be defeated. But still…
"The child of light has already given up?" Somehow, he could see Roman go pale behind the holographic form 'Eh wouldn't be the first time i've mouthed off to beings that could easily kill me.'
"Excuse me-" The booming in the distance was growing closer, Mash warily moved forward shield at the ready, she didn't address the fact that it was more to comfort herself than anything else.
"I've read your legends Cu Chulainn, you've kept fighting no matter what the world threw at you but now that you're no longer alone in the shit pile you want to cut and run!" Bits of skeletons could be seen flying across the sky.
"Listen to me you little-"
"No, you've said your piece and you've said it clear enough, you've given up" Rarely had Harker consciously spewed such bullshit and willingly at that.
"I haven't-"
"The only reason you've kept fighting this entire time was because you are little more than a puppy howling at their master's-" He hit the ground face first, his right cheek burning with pain. It was nothing new, not for him.
"WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO, HE REGENERATES FROM EVERYTHING!"
"THEN DON'T GIVE HIM THE CHANCE TO REGENERATE!"
"AND HOW EXACTLY DO YOU PLAN ON KILLING HERAKLES! HERAKLES! IN ONE SHOT"
"WHATEVER IT TAKES FOR YOU TO DO SO, FIGHT, SNEEZE, DO A FANCY JIG, SLAP YOUR ASSCHEEKS AT HIM, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN!" He stood up again weary as he was, he stood up and shoved his finger in Casters face.
"Whatever the situation was with that fucker before that made you believe we could avoid him it doesn't matter anymore; it wants us dead now, it will chase us and it will not stop until it holds the pulped remains of our corpses in its hands" The roar was closer now, it'd be upon them soon.
'No time for monologues'
"Don't tell me what we've lost, don't tell me what's no longer possible, don't tell me what we can't do. Tell me what you can".
Caster clenched his fists tight enough that were he human it would have drawn blood. He turned to the cacophony in the distance and closed his eyes. "Fine. I'm a spearman trained in rune casting and Druidry. I have disengaged, Protection from arrows and Primeval Rune. My noble Phantasms are the Wickerman and the Teite Brec- None of this is going to help-"
"Stop. Teite Brec? That means Speckled Hoard. Tell me about it" His understanding of Irish was limited but clear enough to get the general gist.
"The Teite Brec is the storehouse of the knights of the Red Branch, it's where we kept our weapons. If one of us is summoned than we can call upon it to give us each other's weapons and only each other's weapons because letting me get my Gae Bolg back would mean my luck has changed for better."
"If that-"
"It doesn't matter master just because we can use them doesn't mean we do, things like personal honor or the fact we don't even know HOW to use them limits the hoard to being a waste of a Phantasm"
"That staff wasn't a waste Cu Chulainn'' Now that he thought about Olga seemed... calmer than she had been earlier this day, Harker could still see signs of fear, but she was keeping a cooler head than earlier.
"It-(Sigh) Look I could only use that because I'm a druid that's it so-"
'When convincing someone of something they are particularly obstinate about you must keep your momentum, allowing them to root themselves in means you've lost your chance. (Sigh) Guessing you had a lot of practice Mom.'
"So, are there any others you can use? Are there any that can kill him instantly?" A boulder came overhead causing the two to duck but despite the charging monster coming to tear them into confetti they still were staying in place.
He quickly thought for a moment mumbling different names discarding as he went before finally coming upon one that could do the job, shame bloomed on his face, but it was quickly covered by resolution. "Aye, there is one, I hate that fucking spear, but I can use it" Harker quirked his eyebrow up at that. "Just going to need time" An echoing roar bombarded their ears.
"We don't exactly have that! Berserker engaging in 60 seconds".
'Is he tugging his ponytail? Ugh, just focus Harker'!
"Go Caster well give you as much time as we can" He waved Caster to the back and jogged to where the servant would be coming, it was likely he was going to die terribly or instantly for that matter but with Eggplant down for the count (or close to it) he was all that was left to buy time. Or would've been if Olga hadn't taken A wild stab at his thought process as she dragged herself to cover.
"Harker the uniform is a mystic code with three spells woven in it, battered it may be it should still be intact. Use it on Kyrielight"
'Was that her name? Not important'
"Why the hell didn't you tell me earlier?!"
"Because it was made for Servants and only servants now GO!" He grumbled and placed a hand on Kyrielight's shoulder and tried to channel what he thought was the healing code (He had never used a mystic code before and really didn't know what he was doing) thankfully her skin knitted together and while still looked like she been tossed into hell for a couple rounds (And boy wasn't that an accurate simile) she no longer seemed like she'd topple at a touch.
"Mash your body is only going to be at 37.2% don't push yourself."
'Oh, so her name's Mash, Man I'm blaise about this.'
"I- Thank you for the concern doctor but frankly I doubt I'll have the choice."
Whatever Roman had planned to say back to her he never got a chance to say it with the giant landing right before them.
"Right then, take up your Shield Kyrielight, the days not done just yet!" A wary stare and a hesitant nod, and they both charged.
(Linebreak)
Noble Phantasms were... odd at the best of times. It was mostly due to being a crystallization of a legend more than actual fact, that tended to make things more than they were in life or give them new abilities. It's how something like a weapons storehouse became giving access to numerous other phantasms though in this case they needed some claim to it. Amergin's staff was given by the right of Druidry but this... this was given by right of birth, so he called it as the battle raged on.
"Open the Teite brec" The mists began to swirl around him.
Mash wasn't eager to repeat her earlier beating, ducking and misdirecting blows instead of taking it head on and the boy however seemed to be getting a hang of the mystic code buffing her just when she'd make a retaliatory strike keeping the berserker off balance or just in general doing his best to keep the mad giant from sensing a pattern. He had to admit it was smart of him to assume that it could still make battlefield decisions, despite being darkened it didn't mean they were mindless, he remembered a few survivors who learned that the hard way.
'Focus Setanta'
"I remember the first time I saw you oh bloody spear, that gray dog killer holding you in her hands" Neither had ever used the spear this way, he wasn't sure if either of them knew it could be used like this.
Harker destroyed the wall thrown at them with a blast of wind.
"You sang to me even then, even when kept in that cauldron to slake your thirst you sang to my blood" A clarion call to bloodshed and battle, Gae Bulg was similar in a way but it was like that of a hungry predator not the all-consuming bloodlust of that... thing.
She hurled a rock into his eye and barely missed the retaliatory kick.
"I feared you then, I fear you now" They all laughed well except her (Gray humorless bitch), he couldn't blame them too much they couldn't hear it the same way they did, the hunger, the thirst, the alien rage.
The two were losing ground quickly, unable to face him directly or even subversively and time was running out. Herakles, maddened and darkened as he was, knew that he was doing something.
"I wish I could leave you in the mists and never bear you again, just as my father did when he first saw you; But I know my duty, I know what must be done, just as he did" He remembered the time they convinced them to hold it in whatever battle was next and as always, she was silent on the matter, unhelpful to the end. Then he arrived challenging all warriors he could; they had both sworn their oaths and neither would ever go back on them.
Herakles managed to connect a fist full onto her shield, sending her flying at Harker; He managed to avoid being crushed by was still clipped by her shield knocking him to the floor holding his leg in pain. They couldn't buy him any more time.
"I hate you, I always have, I always will, So come" The chant was not yet done but it was enough for the mist to solidify and take shape. "So come, out of the mists, out of sleep and into the light. On this spear lies the blood of thousands, on this spear lies the blood of gods and abominations, on this spear lies the blood of my son! I call you here and now Spear of the Hungering Dawn!" In an instant the mist was gone, in an instant a spear lay in his hands burning like a newborn sun. It murmured, it whispered half their yet still asleep dreaming of gore and death.
'b̶̢̩̫͍̦͆̋̄̔̇͝ͅl̴̳̘̳̬͇̟͑̐̃̽̋̉̅͒̀͠O̸̧͔͚̘̗̲̪͍͇̒͑̍̆̈́̕̚͜͝o̸̧̡̻̗̠͉̠͔̪̔͛͜͠D̶̢̺̺̯͉̰͇͌́̆̇̌̚͜ ̵͎͈̣͓̙̼̜̪̮͚̪͕̹̫̞̓́͑̑͐͊Ď̶̨̖̐͒͛̔͘͠E̷͕̞͛̀̍̏͑̽͗͌͌̄̊͐̕͝ả̵̦̩̺̤̤̀̊́̊͊͛̀͂́͋͆̍T̴̹̈́̏͗̍̓̋̍̍͐̅h̸̼̰͐̀ͅ ̷̡̛̫̝̭͚͖͙̳̼̖̤́̂̇̆̄̍H̶̛̜̟͕̬̪̖͓́̀͌̇̓͆͂͝͝e̵̗̱̮͔̘̭͈͕͉̤̟̗̅̈́̑͊͛̈͆̈́ͅȦ̴̢̨̠̹͍̩͓͎̏͛͌̑̔̅̋ͅD̷̥̙̱̳̭̱͉̟͉̹̟͇̳̓̃̄̈̅̄͗͗ͅs̵̤͛̊̿̓̍͌͊̍͛͛͐͐͒̈́̽'̸̧͈͇̖̦̮̻̱̺̝̉̀̑̇͆̉̚͜
Half asleep and murmuring, barely conscious as much as the weapon could be considered to be it was still enough to scour his mind like a raging wildfire, turning every impulse to death and blood. Worse, so much worse than the first time he wielded it. And he still needed to awaken it because he is coming right at him.
'Focus Setanta we're out of time. FOCUS YOU BLOODY HOUND!'
"GRAARGH!" Mash was throwing her shield at the frenzied demigod. Harker, blood streaming from his eyes, ears and nose was trying to throw together some spell to stop him. Neither mattered, neither so much as gave him pause because Herakles had just closed in, sword-axe about to split him in two.
'Just a bit more just a bit more!' He knew he was going to die. Berserker wouldn't care about taking wounds so the spear would just impale him leaving the sword axe to split him in two before he could ever awaken it. He thrust forward anyways; melancholic apathy be damned.
'For the friends behind me and the sunlight before me'
The burning light was caught between two melting hands.
'What? That's the stupidest thi-' He looked up into its eyes, his eyes. Cu Chulainn softly smiled and in an echoing voice filled with hope spoke the ancient words of his father.
"RAGE AND ROAR AREADBHAR LUIN!"
The sun burned brighter and at long last Herakles was finally free.
And that's a wrap for this chapter sorry it took so long I now realize I have no right to be annoyed with long waits between updates for other stories. Anyways I figured I'd go over a few things in this chapter. Let's start with Taliesin's journey in the Land of Shadows. It's a place that's never been well defined except for being outside of the world and being utterly hostile to all mortal life so I decided to add some more lovecraftian themes it, not literally of course the Great Old Ones have nothing to do with the Land of shadows and the countless denizens within but the alien hostility leaves a lot of room for certain things to fight within, as for Taliesin disconnection with time it just made a sort of sense considering Bran the Blessed and King Arthur were quite some time apart.
Next, Ch Chulainn's melancholy. Herakles is... Not an easy opponent to face in the best of times but a tired Cu Chulainn who has tried an assault on him before? He knows it'd be a nigh impossible one. However, that wasn't the reason so much as the catalyst allowing a frustration and bitterness that had been festering within him for who knows how long to rear its ugly head. He had been fighting alone for a long time against a foe wearing the faces of his friends and bearing enough of their personalities to feel familiar, he wouldn't hesitate to put them out of their misery but that doesn't mean he'd like it or not feel angry. As for Herakles's awakening at the end I've always had a small head-canon that in Fuyuki the only reason he doesn't come seeking you out is because there's a small piece of him still fighting against the corruption. Not enough to stop himself from attacking but enough to prevent himself from actively looking for foes. In this reality Angra Mainyu is able to force Herakles to seek out battle and fight causing this all to happen but with a chance of death in sight Herakles is able to hold him back just long enough to let it all happen.
On Noble Phantasms:Now then this is going to be a recurring part of my stories as I introduce more OC servants and their Phantasm's, basically this will reveal the thought process behind them and what they actually do.
-Teite Brec:the speckled hoard
On a whim I decided to do more research into the Knights of the Red Branch, it wasn't too much but I was able to discover the three houses of Conchobar mac Nessa one of which was the Teite Brec which turned out to be where the weapons of the heroes are kept. So with Gate of Babylon as a model I ran with it, A statement that I now just realize comes up quite a lot when it comes to my more favourite additions to servants, Orpheus pretty much being 2.D, Diomedes being friends with Helen, Balin hating all Fae with a murderous rage, etc(Though I'd personally like to note that the middle one originate with a pretty big mistake, you see for some reason when I was designing Diomedes I thought Theseus was king of Thebes for some god forsaken reason. After slapping myself and fixing the errors, I looked at Helen's interaction with Diomedes and decided I quite liked it)
Sidenote about Riastrad:Riastrad is the Cu Chulainn that wouldn't have Tiete Brec and the reason is twofold, one he really wouldn't need it and two with Riastrad stabilizing as a servant there's not really enough of Cu Chulainn left for it to register within him, he's more of Sidhe than a man at that point...
Feall An Domhain:The World's Fury
Druidry isn't really well represented within fate, hell when I was writing some of the fight scenes for Cu it felt more like a norse character than anything else. So, I decided to create a druidic Noble Phantasm, one that wasn't just some big rune or something.
Lord Camelot:Mash is falling
Alright I don't claim to write Mash's character (Especially since up until the lostbelts I actually didn't like her all that much) but I figured I should explain why Mash is going to look a lot more like Galahad in this fic. You see by the example of the sentient Cardboard taking in parts of the servant affects you when you don't have much of an ego, it changes your appearance and perhaps your personality. What is the will and identity of a homunculus or even a human to a bon afide legend? In Apocrahpya's and FGO's case the two were lucky, Siegfried and Galahad won't do much due to being -well- nice. But in this case, there's another factor: Harker and his set of command seals, by his order shielder must unleash their Noble Phantasm; Mash doesn't know it but Galahad does and they don't have a choice but to use it. It wouldn't be a problem for a normal servant but a demi-servant with a tenuous grasp on their own identity? Well let's just say she has a new reason to dislike Harker.
Areadbhar Luin
Celtchar of Luin and Areadbhar have had a lot of connections over the years, from the fires it spawns to the poison it has to soak in to calm its bloodlust it was easy to think about making them the same thing. Now in any other fiction I wouldn't actually consider it but in the world of fate where offhand notes get turned up to eleven (I.E Achilles shield depicting the world to it is a world) there was only one way to go. Oh, and that bit about killing Connla, history can easily be recorded wrong and Gae Bolg is not the only weapon that seeks out blood.