Planet: Earth
Branch: 02-04 ["Heaven's Feel"]
Twig: 04.16 ["Bad End 40: Femme Fatale"]
Year: 2004
Location: Fuyuki, Japan (former)
...
Sakura Matou was dead.
Granted, at the current point in time, that label applied to half the world. The mud encroached on Europe. Everything to the east of Poland was gone, washed away by the Grail's poison. In his life, Fujimaru might have panicked, but 'panic' was not a word in a Counter Guardian's lexicon. The cause of death didn't matter, not at this point, and the timeline was forfeit anyway. Mainyu wasn't their target; for that reason, the Counter Force saw no need to deploy them in defense of the surviving humanity.
No. They had a different objective.
"…!"
"—Ngh!"
And for some strange reason, she'd never left this cave.
Mash slid back half a dozen feet, her sabatons carving thick gashes through the black, ankle deep filth coating the cavern's bedrock. She braced herself against her shield, peering at their opponent from within the depths of her crimson hood. One breath, back into position.
"—Isn't it sad, Senpai?"
"Hm?"
"That this is what happens if he fails. It's tragic, isn't it? That even as a human, he carries so much responsibility."
He truthfully hadn't given it much thought. That was their job, wasn't it? To do what others could not.
"It's no different than us, I think."
His eyes snapped left. Mash ducked in response. A crackling stream of black energy careened over her head to fracture the cavern wall. Then the creature was upon her. The sword descended. His companion pivoted in place, and in one clean movement parried the incoming blow. Up came her foot, riding the momentum. It sank into the Servant's gut; away she flew, back across the cave. The blackened king rolled with the strike's force, and with little effort twisted back onto her feet.
…
King Arthur. Artoria Pendragon. Barely recognizable, little more than an outline covered in the Grail's filth, but still salvageable, regardless. It'd just take a while without her precious Emiya. He had other options, though. Fujimaru put his thumb and middle finger together. Pressure built behind his ears.
Preparations complete. She was ready. He raised his voice.
"He's still alive."
No response, save for the near-instantaneous teleport and the defiled blade approaching his neck. He took a step back; Mash took his place, amethyst eyes aglow in protective defiance. Sword and shield clashed yet again. His Guardian companion stepped into the king's guard, swept her leg, brought her to the ground. Down came the shield. The Servant's breastplate fractured under its weight. She coughed up murky blood.
Now.
He snapped his fingers.
The new arrival wrenched Excalibur Morgan from Saber Alter's grasp. A pale hand tightened around the blackened king's throat. Mash stepped away to allow the girl the space needed to do her duty. Fujimaru scowled. He barked his order.
"Please handle this."
Bent knees, billowing golden twin-tails. Saber Alter hissed in confusion. She clawed at the slender wrist to no avail.
"As the Counter Force commands."
Artoria Avalon rocketed through the cavern's ceiling, past the Grail's churning muck, and into the outside world. Mash wrapped her hand around his bicep; he followed the girl up. Fuyuki's charred ruins greeted their entourage. Fire and flame rode a deluge of magical poison and swept through buildings and residences once occupied by the common folk. Those people were dead. They'd been dead for hours.
Yes, hours. Not days. Not weeks. Hours. It took Avenger mere hours to consume half the world in its apocalyptic flood.
Fujimaru's jump took him high into the air. From his perspective, the world moved at a snail's pace, though he knew to a hypothetical, regular bystander, his monumental speed wasn't comprehensible. Nevertheless, he took the time to survey the damage done. A controlled, minute pang of pity spent less than a second within his mind's dulled emotional center. He saw it all before, he'd see it all again. His duty was to put this place out of its misery, record the damages, and move on to the next retrieval operation.
More important was the empty point in the sky, around which the red clouds swirled. Black and ominous. He knew what lurked within - after all, it was why they were here in the first place.
The Throne.
No measurable appearance, as befitting something outside time and space. The swirling clouds marked its position, and that position marked the end of this timeline. The completion of their objectives here was the signal to begin the culling, and then the misery would end. All the more reason to speed up the process.
A dull thud from far below marked the resumption of his tasks. Artoria Avalon had slammed Saber Alter into the ruins of a particular complex. Fujimaru snorted at the irony.
"That's his home, right?"
"I believe so," Mash responded.
Salter knew it too, judging from the way her mud-drenched form pulsed and droned in residual anger. She pulled her leg in and landed a powerful, Mana Burst-infused kick directly to Artoria Avalon's stomach. Many things shattered in the resulting shockwave; the Counter Force's automaton wasn't one of them. The girl-shaped weapon didn't so much as budge nor bruise. She held the blackened Servant down, and with her free hand leveled Salter with her own infused right hook. Salter's head snapped to the side. The blow launched the Grail's muck in all directions, revealing the charred floorboards of the Emiya dojo, and the two Guardians took that as an opportunity to finally alight in the ruins.
"Well?" Fujimaru questioned.
The automaton retrieved Excalibur Morgan from its place on the floor.
"She can be recalled. Her Spirit Origin is damaged, but intact."
"Then begin the process at once."
"Understood."
And in one smooth motion, she impaled Saber Alter through the heart with Excalibur Morgan.
Muck spilled from the muddy surface once occupied by the king's lips. Her tainted form groaned in grief and rage. Artoria Avalon tightened her grip around the blackened sword. A strange psalm rode her breath.
"In thy shade doth she rest!"
Salter lurched beneath the weight of a strange power, like a puppet whose strings were tugged. The sword groaned. No further response.
Fujimaru frowned. He and Mash learned much about the strange sword during their many retrieval operations, and perhaps the most significant was the newfound insight they'd gained into the power binding the blade to its intended purpose. So powerful, in fact, that each Excalibur was kept cut off from said purpose via the Restraints imposed by the Round Table's legendary knights. Those men never learned the truth behind the sword's awesome strength; they just feared it, and rightly so. He admired their intuition. Their legends were rightly earned.
And the truth was rightly feared.
Up until this point, that single sentence alone was enough to unblacken Artoria Pendragon - that was, debug her. Artoria Avalon spoke one of three phrases used to bypass Excalibur's Restraints and forcibly reconnect it to the Inner Sea. Said phrases were timeline specific, and activated relevant pathways into Avalon, which meant the other two had no effect in their current location. In more modern terms - whatever 'modern' even meant to a Guardian like himself - they'd be best described as the Counter Force's console commands. Artoria Avalon 'remembered' them because the Counter Force deemed it necessary for these missions, and even then, they only worked due to her embodiment of the sword in question. He doubted Emiya or Pendragon knew of their existence.
The phrase's failure to revert Saber Alter proved the strength of the Grail's power in this world. It also necessitated escalation.
"Activate the Waltz."
Both Mash and Artoria Avalon froze. His Shielder turned to him, eyes wide.
"S-Senpai, w-we shouldn't - that's—!"
"We don't have time," he interrupted. "If we can't return this Excalibur to Caliburc, then we will bring Caliburc here. We'll link the swords and return Pendragon to the Throne in one fell swoop. Two birds, one stone! Do it, Artoria!"
In response, Artoria Avalon grit her teeth and summoned to her side a weapon Fujimaru honestly hadn't given much thought until quite recently:
The Golden Sword of the Victorious.
Caliburn.
The specific Caliburn of this specific Saber Alter. The Caliburn of Reality 04.16, responsible for permitting and denying access to the Excalibur of Reality 04.16. The genuine, true Caliburn that was destroyed, per the legend of King Arthur, and now was not.
Artoria Avalon impaled Salter with the sword, its position right beside Excalibur. A hand went to each hilt. She bowed her head…
"They seek you now, O star of love.
Your guidance, that spark, so high above."
…and began to pray.
Caliburn's light pulsed, like a newborn star in the throes of ignition. The burst of light ripped at Excalibur Morgan's blackened form. Corruption fell away in chipped pieces, and with the low, straining groan of its reclaimed purpose, the sword slipped through Artoria Avalon's fingers and wrenched itself from Salter's chest. Flickering golden light burned past the shadow suffocating its length.
"In thy shade do they rest.
In thy warmth do they nest."
Another burst of light; Excalibur shuddered midair. The cracks along its surface shattered like a pane of glass. As if sensing the loss of control, the Grail's muck surged over the dojo's ruined walls. The black ooze rushed for both Salter and her sword.
A sword that refused.
It rotated in place, under its own power, and loosed that beam of energy Fujimaru knew so well. Black and red gave way to blinding resplendence. Morgan no more, the Sword of Promised Victory now acted to free its own master. It carved through the mud, it burned it all away, it seared the black chains that tethered it to the Grail's insidious influence. Salter coughed shadowy phlegm. Fujimaru realized the hole left by her sword's exit was not a hole at all.
Beneath the black armor: silvery iron.
He moved to act. "Mash!"
"Right!"
They rushed beneath Excalibur's protective fury. Mash brought her shield to the forefront. Artoria Avalon's quiet prayers reached them over the cacophony of Mainyu's apocalypse.
"In thy light do they hope.
In thy humanity do they cope."
Caliburn's next pulse jolted Salter like the reviving shock of a defibrillator. She lurched, writhed. That mysterious power again tugged at her strings. Color returned to her face, Vortigern's gauntlet melted past a steel-gray mitten. Overhead churned the red clouds around that point of indescribable power, waiting, watching. The Counter Force watched, and watched, and recorded the needed variables. One more step in the World's salvation.
One more step in fate.
"Struggle they must for thy glory most grand.
Betrayed not once by thy endless demand."
The Golden Sword of the Victorious purged its king of her corruption with one almighty blast of light, and with it, Artoria Pendragon wheezed out a raspy, weak breath.
The incarnated King of Knights opened bleary green eyes.
Excalibur's fury never abated. It fought on its own, under its own power, to protect its owner's frail form. An endless tidal wave of mud receded with each sweep of the golden laser, only to return again, again, again. No rest, no cessation. The filth lapped against the walls of Lord Camelot. Fujimaru closed his eyes. He connected to the Throne, guided by Artoria Avalon's continued chanting.
"So much they give, so little they take!
The dream ends now, 'tis time to wake!"
Caliburn's light shone like a star gone supernova. From its pommel emerged a concentrated beam of light, not unlike that of a pulsar, which in a single instant connected the sword and its owner to that infinitesimal point in the sky. It bore a hole into reality, chipping and fraying, until at last the focused brilliance broke through to link to a point outside time and space. It was something impossible. Something he witnessed with his own two eyes.
"W-What… h-happ…?"
Fujimaru's dead gaze held no emotion, even as he spoke to comfort the dying king.
"You're gonna be alright. It's almost over."
"W-Where… my… M-Mast…"
"He's fine. He's waiting for you."
Blood pooled over her lips. Lingering tension left her ruined body.
"Th-Thank… w-who…?"
Fujimaru marveled at how little they all knew. Ignorance abounded, with Pendragon especially. In his life, had someone told him measly Caliburn held within itself the power to break reality, he would've walked away thinking them a liar or a fool. It was just a decorative sword meant to select the king of Britain.
But the most innocent truths cast the longest shadows.
"Call me Ruler. We're here to get you out."
Caliburn selected the King of Britain.
Caliburn chose the wielder of Excalibur.
Caliburn decided who entered Avalon.
"Never more to be led astray!
Ebb and flow, thusly they pray!"
Caliburn... was the door.
"A-Ah…?"
Channeled through the sword, the beam of light trickled into Saber. Inch by inch, through her armor's cracks and dents, until Caliburn's glow permeated throughout her body. The screams of a billion damned souls clawed against Excalibur's fury and Mash's protection, to no avail, for Fujimaru knew it came.
Fujimaru knew she came.
"This is where we part ways, your majesty. We'll handle it from here. Tell Emiya we said hello, alright?"
She didn't get a chance to respond. The heavens split, the clouds blew apart. Down through that crack in the sky - a godsent angel. An outline of something beyond humanity, all-powerful and eternal. In one fell swoop, the dainty hand took Saber's own. In one fell swoop, she was gone. In one fell swoop, faster than any of them could blink…
Excalibur shuddered, its connection broken.
…the Heroic Spirit of Artoria Pendragon came and went.
Her swords remained, in spite of all logic and reason. Flowers bloomed where Saber once laid, spread across the ruined floorboards, a garden besieged by chaos. Caliburn loosed another pulse of light, by which Excalibur was stabilized. Two swords. Two weapons.
With no master to chain them.
…
The wind picked up.
The pillar of light collapsed into Caliburn.
And spread into the garden.
Fujimaru's lungs lost their air, sucked back into the blade. A vacuum stole sound and breath, and all the wails of the mud. Silence. The silence of the void permeated that place. Brighter and brighter. Stronger and heavier. The light shone through the black. Caliburn's majesty sundered his doubt, it calmed his deadened nerves. The dojo shattered, to reveal the grass.
The grass of Avalon.
One pulse. Another.
Excalibur's power grew. Caliburn grounded its counterpart with duty and purpose. In the silence it rose, that solemn blade, and twisted in midair. It leveled its point to the horizon, where a black figure loomed: a demonic entity, hellish in visage. The cause of all this grief.
One pulse. Another. From Caliburn to Excalibur. And then Mash realized…
"They're breaking Excalibur's Restraints…"
…
All things ended sooner or later.
In this world, that was today.
Shirou Emiya - dead.
Artoria Pendragon - dead.
Rin Tohsaka - dead.
Sakura Matou - dead.
Illyasviel von Einzbern - dead.
Fuyuki's population - dead.
Half of humanity - dead.
No one lived to see this battle.
No one but them.
"—Yes," the automaton confirmed. "It knows that this is the end."
Many questions, few answers. Their mission to collect the scattered swords led them to this place. Some went without a fuss. Others required a bit of elbow grease. But throughout all of it, not once did they stop and note the weapon's peculiarities. They were all the same sword… and at the same time, unique. Each one was changed by its experiences, a mirror of its master. Its power varied. Its appearance differed. In one world, it struggled to kill Berserker. In another, it ripped him asunder in a microsecond.
Why?
"So it's true, then," he spoke. "Without the wielder, the swords will…"
Artoria Avalon closed her eyes. "If the sword was not alive, that girl could not become its embodiment. They will return to Avalon. One way… or another."
…
They didn't disappear. They stayed. Why? Noble Phantasms disappeared with their owners, so why? Why, why, why? He had so many damn questions.
Mash grabbed his hand. "They want to do their duty, senpai."
"There's no point. We've accomplished our objective. It's already over."
She shook her head. "They want to try. That's what matters, right?"
"I suppose, but…"
Indeed: all things eventually ended. The year didn't matter. 2004. 2505. Numbers on a calendar, days in a week, seconds in a minute. Everything died. The Root claimed all.
But did any of that matter to a weapon?
"…They're just like them," he realized.
Fuyuki burned, the sky glowed crimson.
There were no sounds but the roaring of the flames.
There were no lights, save one tiny spark of light, high in the sky, and another far below.
No people.
No dreams.
Nothing whatsoever.
One sword, and the god it meant to slay.
One sword, and the utopia it meant to summon.
"You can do it, little star…"
Excalibur charged Angra Mainyu.
Planet: Earth(?)
Branch: [NULL?]
Twig: [NULL?]
Year: [NULL?]
Location: The Inner Sea
FORGE UNIT "AVALON"
...
When Caster thought of the stoic King of Knights, she pictured a ruthlessly efficient warrior-maiden, a god of the battlefield, who marched forward in her iron armor and led her armies into the fray. One swing of her sword would fell three dozen men. Every decision came naturally, every choice the absolute best it could possibly be. Kings pledged themselves to her service. Knights came from across Britain to swear their oaths under her raised blade. Flawless. Divine. The savior-king who fought with all her might to give Britain and its people the justice they deserved, and then some.
"Ah… a blacksmith in Tintagel… that suits him well. Sir Ector surely enjoyed himself... I am glad you still met him, Caster! Tell me, was Kay there, also?"
Nowhere in those thoughts did Caster see… whoever this person was. Certainly not the King of Knights. Saber was…
…
She couldn't begin to describe Saber.
"N-No…? I… um, I don't know. I never knew someone named Kay."
"I see. How unfortunate. I am sure he would have enjoyed seeing you as a mage and not a king, in spite of his aggravation at the prophecy. But! Tell me more, if you would! Did you talk to Shirou, perchance? I saw him there with your friend! Not under his own power, as I understand it, but he has a tendency to disregard the limitations placed upon him."
…Who?
"I-I, um - f-forgive me, y-your maj—Saber, um, I don't know who that is, so…"
She cursed at her nerves and her voice for their refusal to cooperate. Her other self probably thought her some weak counterfeit, ngh! Pull it together, Caster!
Saber shifted her position against the tree they lounged beneath. The so-called king's curiosity remained her ever-present expression, peaceful and innocent; Caster thought the girl radiated a certain charm. Despite them wearing the same face, she readily admitted Saber held a beauty she herself lacked, and were the girl to take a stroll down Tintagel's dirt roads, she'd turn heads at once. They weren't equals, Caster knew. She felt fake and unworthy sitting beside this person. Saber was definitely asking these questions out of common courtesy, not because she didn't know the answers. If the king knew who she was, she also knew her life's events.
…
She… really missed Chaldea's Master! He was a good listener, and she'd always felt comfortable voicing her doubts in his presence. He never judged, his calm logic comforted.
"—I see," answered the king at last. "My apologies, Caster. 'Tis difficult to imagine the pain without the reward. It must be hard for you. Are you lonely?"
…Lonely? Perhaps before, but…
"N-No. I was, I guess, but then I met Ritsuka."
…
Her other self blinked.
"…Who?"
Wait, she'd never met…?
A hefty dose of pity worked its way up Caster's person. Of course. How foolish was she? The King of Knights stood above the rest, alone and aloof for her whole life. A pained thought; she considered herself lucky to have found a group of trustworthy friends, even if their time together didn't last as long as she'd hoped or wanted.
"Um, Chaldea's Master! Y-You know, that guy who entered Avalon with me the first time?"
Saber's confusion grew, and Caster's increased in turn. How did she not see him? They weren't an army!
"M-My apologies, Caster, I know not who you… um…"
Eh?!
"B-Black hair?! Around our age?!"
And then Saber blinked. Recognition flashed on her face, but embarrassment flushed it away soon after. She scratched her cheek.
"A-Ah, yes, him. I admit I spared him naught more than a passing glance. M-My focus was… um… elsewhere…"
Now it was Caster's turn to be perplexed. Did they spontaneously speak different languages? Was that possible in Avalon? What else could grab Saber's attention? Her friends were the first non-Fae to enter Avalon, albeit temporarily, in… well, who knew how long! Since the King of Knights herself, maybe!
"Elsewhere?"
"Yes. On the one with red hair."
…
…
"He's old, though."
Saber sputtered.
"H-He is seventeen! I am fifteen! A two year difference is more than appropriate! And our ages matter not, so it is besides the point!"
…
Her alternate self from pan-human history, the legendary King of Knights, chosen wielder of holy Excalibur, lusted after old geezers. Hmm.
Saber pouted at the suspicious squint. She crossed her arms.
"G-Goodness, Caster, do not peer at me in such a dubious manner! H-How old do you think he is?"
"Like… uh… his sixties…"
"H-His…?"
Rather than voice a fresh rebuttal, Saber instead trailed off, for her vivid imagination kidnapped her thoughts and dumped them into yet another one of her daydreams. A blush worked its way across her cheeks. Ahoge waggling, she tugged at a blade of grass, a goofy smile on her face.
"Shirou and I as… an old married couple…? Hehehe…"
"S-Stop fantasizing about my Gramps!"
She knew this 'Shirou' person Saber continuously mentioned was the original owner of the body Muramasa occupied. By no means was it hard to figure out, between Merlin's weird vision, that boy's mentions of Saber, and said girl's peculiar fixation. But… but to her, that man was Muramasa. Her adoptive family, her old man. She refused to see him any other way, and whoever this Shirou was would never change that. She didn't care. Nothing Merlin or Saber said could convince her otherwise. Gramps was Gramps, damn it!
"…Aye, I suppose from your point of view, Shirou does not exist, does he?"
…
How did she…?
"Much like from my own perspective, I cannot fathom someone of complete irrelevance stealing my beloved's body. Or being a Fae, or a magus. Or naively, ignorantly believing, with all my fragile heart, that someone aside from Shirou understood me."
Despite the brutality of her words, Caster felt no hostility or cruelty. In one fell swoop, Saber stated the differences separating them from each other, the reasons they failed to perceive the other without Merlin's intervention. Alternate selves they may have been, but so many things set them apart. A strange feeling washed over her, that of talking to someone new. She held this conversation not with Saber, but rather—
"In truth, Caster, I originally meant to kill you."
—the King of Knights.
…
"K-Kill…?"
"That is correct."
Caster's error smacked her across the face like a bag of bricks. She was a fool. A naive, helpless fool, who walked into the dragon's lair without a care in the world. Merlin was loyal to exactly one person - the person she was not. He didn't intend to help her or make her understand. His goals differed. He brought the prey to his master, like the obedient hound he was. A master Caster underestimated, one of the fiercest combatants in known history who wore the shell of a dainty teenage peasant girl.
And she hadn't suspected a thing.
She lived not out of any skill or luck or comparable power, but because King Arthur herself…
"W-Why… d-did you want…?"
"Hm? For a few reasons."
…chose mercy.
Saber tilted her head like a dragon pondered whether or not to burn a village.
"I must admit that I am envious of you, Caster, and for that reason I planned on absorbing you into myself. You have many things I desire."
Huh? "I-I do?"
"Indeed. As a Fae, you are given more leeway in Avalon's entry and exit. I am given no such privileges, despite my draconian nature. I must reside here and wait, though I admit that is more by choice than force. More importantly than that, however, is your… peculiarity."
Wait. Wait, she was talking about—
"You mean that I'm Excalibur."
Saber went stiff, her hands flexed in her lap. Caster tensed in turn, because she knew, in that moment, that King Arthur, for whatever reason, was offended. Genuinely offended.
"—It should have been me. I should have been given the opportunity."
She barely heard the king, so low was her voice. Less a whisper and more a seething hiss. Caster didn't understand.
"W-Why is it such a big deal?"
"Because Shirou is the embodiment of Avalon!"
The dragon roared; Caster flinched.
"He is my scabbard in human form! You know not the honor given to you, Caster! You are ignorant of your own advantageous position! Excalibur and Avalon are inseparable, they are tethered together by these vary lands beneath our feet! Were I you, were I his equal, I would not be here. I would be returned to his side, at long last! I am his Saber, I am his sword! 'Tis my purpose, my…!"
She stilled, took a deep breath, exhaled. The fire died, the flame settled. Saber settled back against her tree. A pale finger tapped her chin.
"Yes, well. Your body is nice, too. Shirou prefers his women more feminine, whereas I am far too muscled to suit his tastes. Our love transcends such frivolities, of course, but I would be a fool to pass up the opportunity to negate Caliburn's influence, especially when the solution to my woes so courteously made its presence known. Hmph. Merlin wishes to delay my first night with my beloved for as long as possible. He knows he shan't get a wink of sleep! A pox be upon him!"
…
"—Though I suppose I have Artoria for that bit… hm. Aye, she might be a better choice. Safer, to be sure. And far more willing. To think she would become so obsessed! I'd think her a rival, were she not myself. I cannot wait to meet her!"
Caster's trembling continued unabated. The fear gnawed at her like one of Cernunnos' many curses. She sat beside a monster. How could one person talk so calmly of absorbing another?
"T-Then… i-if I have what you desire, why d-did you not k-kill me?"
Saber blinked. Her strange look implied the answer was obvious; Caster once again felt lesser to her… peer? Predator? Predator, perhaps.
"I dare not let your mindset taint my own," came the frosty answer. "I hold no personal attachments for the smith you call your grandfather, or the one-sided admiration you hold for a dead boy who not once looked upon you in that way. I long to be Excalibur's embodiment, 'tis true. With that power, I… I could save his family, my friends, from the Life Tree's incineration. Rin and Sakura, Taiga and Illyasviel…"
Saber chewed her lower lip, eyes downcast.
"'Tis a shame. I would give many things for us all to be together again, but my impression of Shirou is not one of them. I shan't run the risk of seeing him as you do. He is the father of my children. Not some…"
She waved a vague hand through the air.
"…old fart!"
Like an emotional pendulum, Caster swung between offense and overwhelming embarrassment. Saber insulted her adopted family and the person she grew to adore, and at the same time brazenly declared her intentions without a hint of shame or virtuous nobility. Wasn't she already married? Did she not have a queen? Her honor, her regality, thrown into the wind! The father of her children?! It was too soon to think about that sorta thing! She trembled in place, face aglow.
"I… I-I just wanna see my friend again! Wah!"
…
Saber deflated. All her hot air returned to Avalon. She crossed her legs, a bit off-put, and fiddled with a blade of grass.
"—I do too."
"Then why are you so intent on attacking him!"
…
"Because he used you."
…
Her reply contained none of her previous edge. The girl at Caster's side exhaled into paradise, tired and weary. She saw not the King of Knights, not the utopian Saber, but a third participant. A young girl, hidden beneath the facade and bravado. Aloof and introverted and ever so alone, just like Caster herself.
"I am sure it was unintentional, and I am sure he did not mean to, but he used you. He was no different than any of the others. The reverse side of the same coin."
Artoria.
"I saw the way he talked to you. Merlin let me watch. Saying things like he believed in you, that you could do it, that you were strong and able. I understand why you latched onto him, even if I do not approve. I would have done the same, were I in your position. You wished to make him proud, aye? And show him his faith was not misplaced."
That terrible feeling weighed in her stomach. Abandonment, loneliness, failure. He was dead. She could've helped. Of course she wasn't there, she wanted to be his sword and ended up useless dead weight. At the very least, she could've tried to check in on him. No wonder he didn't remember her. She deserved it this time, didn't she?
"…Aye," Caster whispered.
"So with that in mind, you followed his lead and accomplished both of your objectives, because in the end they were the same. You atoned for the mistakes of the Fae and brought peace to Cernunnos, just as the Counter Force demanded."
Pride welled in her bosom. Caster's back straightened, just a bit.
"A-Aye! And we did a good job, too!"
"But is that what you wanted?"
…
Caster's brain stopped. Turning gears locked into place, screeched against each other.
"…Eh?"
Saber released a slow breath.
"What is your happiest memory, Caster?"
Her happiest…
"Walking down main street. With him."
"And why is that?"
Caster didn't want to respond; she knew Saber's point. She got the message loud and clear. But even if that was true, even if they were both forced to follow their respective duties, even if, in the end, she was just another name and face on the list of Ritsuka's many acquaintances and allies, it still meant something to her. She wanted to treasure that moment. Perhaps to him it never meant anything at all, but who cared? Did that really matter? Nothing forbade her from appreciating and adoring the things he gave her from her spot in the shadows. And if she never received the opportunity to thank him, to be with him, to show him how much he meant to her, then, well…
"Because it let me be normal, just for once. That was enough. I'm fine with it."
…
"Are you?"
Two words. Just two words, with so much power within. Are you fine with that? Are you okay with that? Is it fine that the reason for your existence overwhelmed and destroyed the reason you chose to live? Is it fine to help others at the expense of yourself? Is it fine to be a martyr everyone forgets? Is it acceptable to sit here and listen to this king you cannot understand pick apart your mind piece by piece, and lay it all out on the table, and solemnly declare—
"It is true that actions speak louder than words, but intent shouts over both, and his was known from the start."
'It wasn't to save you, and now you are dead.'
…
The King of Knights won because she was cruel. The King of Knights failed because she was cruel. To help people, to see them smile, to know it was all for naught. In the end she died alone, with not one single soul by her side.
And Caster's life ended the exact same way.
"What gives you the right to assume the intentions of a person you've never met?" Caster whispered. "Who do you think you are?"
"I think that I am a weapon to be used and thrown away. But you know that better than anyone, do you not?"
Like a slap across the face. Her outrage compelled her to her feet.
"He never saw me that way! Not once did he ever—"
"The planet, or thyself?"
"…?!"
"Which did he pick, Caster? Which did he choose to save? Was it Earth, or was it you?"
Pride and regret pulled her in opposite directions. He was like her, a tool honed and utilized. Kill the people to save the people. Yes, people, with their faces twisted in scorn and ridicule and all sorts of malice. Who among them deserved salvation? Why did he go so far? Why did she go so far? They didn't care, they never cared! But those nameless masses had the potential to be better! But did they really?
"It can't be helped."
"—It was the proper choice. That place… it…"
"'Twas wrong and incorrect and an affront to proper history, and you preferred it that way, because you do not want to be me."
Would it kill her to phrase things a bit more eloquently?
"That's true, yes. I really can't see myself in your position, you know? I… I'd seriously kill myself!"
Saber's sudden tension alerted Caster to her first victory. The retired king splayed her hands flat against her thighs.
"I thought myself fearless," she admitted at last. "And I was alone, and I did try to kill myself."
…
She…
"You… did…?"
…gave up?
Saber rose to her feet at last, and turned to face Caster. A whirlpool of emotion swirled in those green irises, filled with indignity, understanding and no small amount of resolve. A sad smile curled her lips.
"I am sorry, Caster. I did not mean to offend you, but… well, 'tis hard to explain. That star you saw in the sky - that was the me of the past, not the present. You do not know the full story. Neither did I, until recently."
The cryptic double meanings bothered her to no end. Aggravation pricked her heart and tightened her throat.
"What 'full story'? Spit it out already."
…
And she extended her hand.
"It would be easier to show you."
Nothing about this woman made sense.
"Didn't you just say you didn't want to connect with me? That you didn't wanna risk seeing him the way I do?"
Saber smiled. "Aye, I did. But before my own greed, I am a hopeful, naive fool who wishes to help others. As long as I understand that, my image of him cannot be tainted."
She plotted. Caster knew she plotted. It was some ploy, surely, some new plan to absorb her and take Excalibur's power for herself. Perhaps Merlin put up protective wards while they talked; the king herself stated she knew something Caster did not. She ran through all the possible variables, she squinted at the hand in suspicion. But Saber continued to wait; the breeze gusted some flower petals into her periphery.
"I shan't force you," she added. "But it might help us reconcile some of our differences. We are all victims, your friends included."
Victims? "What do you mean?"
In reply, Saber lowered her hand back to her side. Her small smile turned sad, almost guilty.
"Have you ever wondered… why you wear my face?"
Because her purpose was to—
"I try not to think about it."
"The response of someone sane and reasonable. There are two answers. You know of the first already: 'tis because your assigned task, as a Fae, was to destroy Britain, and Britain's destruction was the reason for my creation. You wear my face, but I do not wear yours. You are my doppelgänger, Caster, a fairy in disguise. We are not truly alternate selves, despite our similarities, and for those reasons and more, I struggle to accept you as myself."
Merlin told her everything, then. In front of this person, she held no secrets. She was an open book, and Saber was the callous reader.
"Gaia painted you in my image," the king continued. "And cursed you with my suffering, and denied you both the knowledge of my salvation and the opportunity to gain it for yourself. There are four others, in addition to myself, who know the ending of King Arthur's legend. You are not one of them. You waver between Caster and Artoria, seeking freedom from a slavery that can never be undone."
…
She… she just…
"I am glad you feel so strongly for that young man, Caster, because it is something you earned, not as Artoria, but as the Fae shackled with Artoria's responsibility. Even if he cannot return those feelings, their existence is a sign of your growth as an individual."
Caster collapsed to her knees. Her vision blurred. "H-How do… y-you know f-for… for sure…?"
And once again, Saber extended her hand. "To be freed of one's shackles, one must understand them."
'I originally meant to kill you.'
To kill Artoria. To bring it into the fold, to return it to where it belonged. Saber wanted to be Excalibur… because it was her duty. Her purpose. She, not Caster, was the singular chosen wielder. And by learning of the King of Knight's life, Caster could better identify where her assumed role ended, and the Fae began. Perhaps it would end her existence - a fairy's only purpose was to carry out its assigned mission, and to that end she was the embodiment of Artoria Pendragon's. Her martyrdom made manifest and granted a voice of its own.
She never wanted that purpose. She just… wanted…
"W-What is…"
Caster took the hand.
"…the second reason…?"
Saber's warm, leathery fingers intertwined with her own; she pulled the Fae to her feet, spun on her heel, and marched them down the hill, in the direction of Merlin's tower.
"Your friend was destined to become a Counter Guardian," she explained. "He is Shirou's designated replacement. He always has been."
"…'Destined'?"
The warmth in her hand quickly grew to an inferno that threatened to swallow her whole. It raced up her arm and into her heart, and lit her vocal cords ablaze. Saber returned a short, crisp nod.
"Shirou… was the first Servant he summoned. As I understand it, Ritsuka himself was the catalyst. Both fill the same purpose as dictated by the Counter Force: they are force multipliers. Shirou channels the Heroic Spirits through his abilities, while your friend summons them outright. By themselves, both boys are useless and headstrong. The more they experience, the stronger they grow. Shirou was meant to prepare him for his role."
Saber had been testing her. She knew of Ritsuka already, and chose to pretend she did not, all to determine Caster's reaction. Higher and higher the searing heat crawled, to her shoulders and her neck. Her vision swam; she tried to stay focused on the conversation.
"H-How do you know all this?"
Saber bit her lip. She gave Caster's hand a small tug.
"My goal is to secure Shirou's freedom. It cannot happen until he fulfills his mission. I shan't allow him to suffer by his lonesome, so I agreed to assist the Counter Force in its war of survival. In return, it told me… many things. You becoming Excalibur, your friend's long journey, that churl Kiritsugu implanting my scabbard in Shirou, my role as King Arthur - all of it was planned. Rin and Sakura, Kotomine and the Matous. Chaldea. The realities and their many differences. Avenger. We are soldiers within a carefully controlled army. It nudges us in certain directions, with the intent of completing prerequisite tasks. It cares not for our suffering. We are the World's tools."
Caster's head spun. The warmth spread up her esophagus and down into her lungs, from her toes to her ears, pounding against her eyes. She blinked once; there, in the trees at the forest's edge, were dozens of nameless Fae. Watching. Waiting.
Preparing.
Her breath caught in her throat. "E-Even this conversation…?"
"…was designed to happen."
Her heart hammered. The visions of Saber's life pushed against her mind like a dam threatening collapse. Caster squirmed against the king's ironclad grip on her wrist; attempting to buy herself momentary peace, she looked away, back up the hill. A sudden gust of wind lashed at her face.
One of the Excaliburs dislodged from the field. Defiant of gravity, it shuddered and trembled under a purpose unseen. Fiery energy, aglow with ominous portent, rolled from guard to hilt, then discharged into the field. A voice like scraping metal sent her ears ringing. The hair on her neck stood on end.
'I assume the duty!'
"S-Saber, it's…!"
Saber tugged on her arm.
"Pay it no mind. Come, Caster."
"B-But—"
Saber hadn't heard it. Caster wondered if she was hallucinating. Swords didn't—she was a sword. She made the choice to become Excalibur. The connection she subconsciously utilized was the same one Saber sought. Excalibur's voice, though distorted…
'In my shade doth she rest!'
…was her counterpart's. It was Saber's. Noble Phantasms summarized a hero's legend, a person's history. They were one and the same. Who else's voice could it be? Her brief surprised dulled to muted understanding. She was an usurper. No wonder Saber hated her. She was a Fae created by the planet to destroy the one reality where Artoria Pendragon never embarked on her solemn duty. Not because she refused, but because the Sub-Bells' mistakes denied her the opportunity.
…
"In my world, you had peace. You weren't needed, or… or used… or betrayed. S-So why… are you so…"
The pressure on her wrist tightened. Saber's answer was a low hiss.
"It is wrong to change the past. It is wrong to disrespect their suffering in an attempt to create a better future. The World, even now, does so regardless. It remakes us. It twists our journeys for its own ends. It does this… because it is as I once was. It is scared. It cannot accept its destined end. But more than that…"
Motes of light dripped from the Excaliburs, from the flowers, from the grass, from the trees and the rocks. They twisted in the air, up to the sword hovering over the hill. Each bit of energy enhanced that Excalibur to a point incomprehensible to mortal and Fae alike. Brighter, stronger; the golden glow lost its color and turned solid white. It continued to grow and eclipse the blade, until its recognizable features dissolved into the blinding light. In the middle of the outline: four golden rings, and a shimmering line down the blade's length. The nearby swords still in the ground likewise responded to the ascended weapon's call. They rose to meet it in the air.
It wasn't Excalibur anymore.
"More than that," Saber continued, "I shan't deny from myself the chance for my own happiness. My kingship is necessary. Without it… without it, I would not have met him, 'tis true, but I am tired of seeing that meeting repeated. Our enslavement pulls us in opposite directions. We do not want any of this. I am just a girl. Ours is to be a simple, peaceful life, not one entrapped in a spider web of duty."
A golden pillar of light, its source unknown, broke through the sky and impacted the white sword, that ascended Excalibur. The wind whipped at Caster's hair and clothes. Something was happening. Something she didn't get, something beyond her and her purpose. All around them, more Excaliburs appeared. Flowers became swords. The ground shook.
A forge.
Avalon was a forge, producing weapons for a war.
Saber's serenity was at odds with the sudden chaos of their environs. The king marched for the tower on the horizon, and the truth to be found inside. Caster's eyes stayed rooted on the white sword atop the hill, as if compelled to follow it on its journey. Its pommel aligned with the top of the pillar, that point beyond eternity. The strength of Saber's grip signaled both her annoyance and her resolve.
"So, as always, I must end the charade myself. If this is our fate, we will fight against these chains, until the last link is shattered. I will sever you of this curse, Caster. And once we are both free, I—"
Caster finally tore her gaze from the strange weapon. She turned back to Saber, to that insufferable heat strangling her mind, and entered the vision. The young woman's voice was her guide.
"—shall finally meet my star."
Against a sky painted orange, Caster beheld a boy.
Bruised and battered, and so very much alive.
Fate/ess
"Shirou."
Return - 3
"I love you."
THE SWORD OF P̶̤̐R̵̬̾O̴̝̕M̶̧̋I̸̫̓S̴̫͂É̷͈D̴̨͒ VICTORY
A moment both impossible and inevitable.
One that gave the chain of Fate its very first crack.
In perhaps the greatest bout of disrespect Caster had ever seen, Saber kicked open the tower's door. She entered the wizard's abode like a bat from hell, twisted left with such speed she almost tore the Fae's arm from its socket. The dragon roared its demands.
"Merlin! Explain at once! Where is Caliburc going?!"
"Eh~?"
Caster jumped. How did he get so close?! That stupid idiot! Her poor heart, she was totally gonna die!
"Don't do that!" she begged. Merlin ignored her.
"My king, were you not going to reclaim your stolen property~? She is wasting valuable resources!"
Saber's eye twitched. She pulled Caster into a protective hug and stroked one of her bangs as though she were a favorite pet. A blush crawled up the poor Fae girl's face. Her lips quivered.
"She is a victim!" Saber argued. "She deserves a chance, does she not? I have developed an alternative strategy! And besides, she is very cute! Do not harm my Caster! Her Artoria-ness may yet be cured!"
—Eh?
Eeeeeehh?!
"Wah! He scares me, Saber!"
Saber replied with a solemn nod. She straightened Caster's hat.
"Worry not, my dear. If we cooperate, we may both claim victory yet."
Caster blinked. Victory? "W-What do you mean?"
"We must first determine how much of your thinking is tainted by your role," explained the king. "We must learn where Artoria ends, and Caster begins!"
She swallowed, unconvinced. "B-But… but the Fae are just their roles, and… and nothing else! Without it… I-I'll…"
Saber wagged her finger like a nagging parent.
"Do not think like that, you silly child! There is always hope! Shirou told me that I was more than an emotionless king, and he would tell you the same, as well! Fae shmae, Caster! If a Fae is their role, you must simply find a new one!"
…
…
"Caster? Why are you crying?"
She glomped Saber.
"That's… th' nicest thing… anyone's ever… said to meeeee! WAAAAAAH!"
The king awkwardly rubbed her back. From over Caster's shoulder, she gave Merlin 'the look'.
"You did not answer my question."
Merlin scratched his cheek. "Ah~! You see, you see… Caliburc is off to cull a… particularly… troublesome timeline…"
"Oh?"
"I suggest not looking into it further, my king! Please don't! Pretty please? With cherries on top?"
Saber's brow twitched. "—I shall learn of it eventually, you know."
"O-Of course… ehehehe~!"
Caster eventually stopped her shameful display. The king pointed to a particular point on the floor.
"If you would, Merlin. I must have words with the Unclean One."
A bead of sweat dripped down Merlin's cheek. "Per her… assigned roles, I daresay it's impossible for her to be—"
"She is a filthy stinky grotesque Unclean One! By the king's decree!"
"A-As you say, my king."
A tap of Merlin's staff opened a hidden section of the tower's floor, to reveal a pitch black pit not dissimilar to the one in which Cernunnos once slept - only this time, there were stairs. Caster gulped.
"What's down there?"
Saber approached the hole without the slightest hint of duress or apprehension. She extended her hand over the depths, and then, from perhaps hundreds of feet below, Caster saw the flickering light of a candle. Up and up it spiraled, its size and luminosity increasing the higher it ascended. The girl blinked in surprise; it wasn't a candle at all.
Into Saber's palm…
"W-What…?!"
…flew Caliburn.
Not a projection, not a fake, not even a Noble Phantasm. The genuine, true Caliburn, her Caliburn, for in its glinting blade Caster saw Saber's own life. This sword, the one shattered during her reign, returned to her now completely unscathed. The King of Knights turned to the wayward Fae, beyond exasperated for some unknown reason. She really looked like she didn't want to go down those stairs.
"Let us… find out, shall we?"
Guided by Caliburn's soft glow, they descended into the black. Down and down and down they went, for who knows how long, until, at the very bottom, Caster spied the flicker of a candle's light. Or rather: not candlelight, but the light of an occupied room. It spilled out from beneath a shut wooden door. And was that…
…
…music?
"She needs to get out more," Saber muttered.
Caster, once again, was totally lost.
"E-Eh? What is…?"
Strange, muffled words echoed out into the stone stairwell.
"Yume ni mite ita… ano hi no kage ni… toooodokanaiii sakebi~!
Asu no jibun wa… nante egaite mo… kiiieeenaaiii negai ga nureru~!"
Saber - again - kicked open the door. She flipped Caliburn in her palm, holding it like some sort of throwing knife, and flung it at a… woman singing in the room's corner?
"Agh—ow!"
"Turn it off, witch!"
The music cut off abruptly. It was a room. Like, a room at an inn. That people lived in. Filled with stuff. Plushies, some posters, a… a music machine?
Caster blinked.
Where were they?
"—Rhongomyniad."
Her arms covered her face, she flinched back from the sudden power. A golden drill roared into the entrance. Saber walked through the danger breaking around her form like a wave upon the rocks. It lashed against the walls. Caster's bangs whipped in her face. But the King of Knights was unharmed - the attack did nothing. Not to the room nor its occupants. Startled, Caster took a long breath and blinked away the stars. Hands on her hips, Saber leered up at a taller, older woman, one whose appearance tickled Caster's mind with vague familiarity.
"Well?" Saber demanded. "Explain thyself."
Caster could tell that the woman wanted to be anywhere but there.
"Explain what?" she bit out.
"Employ not one of thy myriad charades, witch! What. Is. Caliburc. Doing?"
…
A magical model of a vast, incomprehensible tree appeared over a strange pool in the room's center. The stranger's pale fingers snapped, and at her command the diagram focused on a particular point, a dead-end twig at the end of one of the tree's many convoluted branches.
"One of your precious swords is embroiled in yet another 'end of the world' scenario, and it has failed to extricate before the World's pruning. The timeline is under Caliburc's purview, and a request for aid was sent by Caliburn at the behest of the deployed Guardians. You know what happens next. Happy?"
The tree vanished with a wave of the hand. The woman leveled Saber with a look that Caster interpreted as annoyed dismissal, but the king instead chewed on her lip and wrung her hands.
"N-Nay, I am not. Tell me more," Saber insisted. "Is… is… u-um… is Shirou…?"
"Your pathetic consort is dead. Again. Because you screwed up. Again. Mainyu handed his soul to Alaya, per your wish's instructions. Again. We've been over this, Artoria. When he dies young, it's because you failed him."
Her cruel words washed over Saber's steeled person, to no effect. The king opened her mouth to reply; Caster beat her to the punch.
"Y-You don't know that! Who are you, anyway?! Saber's trying her best, can't you see! So why don't you—grrk!"
Black energy strangled her of her life. The witch's cold glare pierced her through.
"I don't recall giving you permission to speak."
Saber hissed, took a step forward. "Release her, Morgan."
It vanished as quickly as it came. Caster dropped to her knees, coughing, both from the choking and from her own surprise.
"M-Morgan…? Y-You mean…"
The woman stepped from her corner. Shadows accented the ankle-length pale blonde hair, and the red tattoos descending her chest and midriff. Eyes of ice filled Caster with dread. She'd seen them before. And they'd seen her, too, because the witch's pale lips twisted into a cruel smirk.
"Hello, Tonelico."
The Fae grit her teeth. "I-I am not—"
"Shut up."
With that rebuttal, Morgan le Fay turned to her sister.
"May I ask why you've yet to absorb her power, Artoria dear? Do you know the trouble I went through to set this up?"
The king went awfully still.
"—It is wrong."
"Wr—?!"
Overcome by sheer exasperation, the elder Pendragon lifted her chin to the ceiling, dug her palms into her eyes, and spun three times in place.
"Wrong?! It's wrong, you say! Artoria, in Gaia's name, just do it! You need not go to him, if that is your wish, but at the very least you'll gain the ability to talk to him! Send him cute telepathic texts, like the star-crossed idiots you are! I manipulated things perfectly! She is right there, ready and willing! Here, I'll make it easy for you!"
Each click of her heels tightened Caster's jaw and amplified her fear. She rose to stand; Morgan's backhand returned her to the floor. Frosty fingers dug into her twintails, and Caster's cries of pain went ignored as her creator dragged her across the stone floor. The witch marched right up to the central pool's edge, forced the Fae onto her knees, and yanked back her head.
A golden dagger pressed into her neck.
Everything about it screamed death. Caster clawed and punched at Morgan's hands - a futile endeavor.
"Ready?" Morgan coaxed. "It'll take us scant seconds, Artoria! A little body-snatch, and you'll be bedding your man this afternoon! Three, two—"
An arcing flash of light, the dagger clattered to the floor. Artoria's hand lowered, Caliburn held loosely in her grip.
"Stop."
…
Morgan pushed Caster into the ground and rose like a leopard denied its meal.
"Why are you so difficult? What is it this time, hm? Must the means be perfect for your desired utopian end? Oh! Don't tell me! If he knew the plan, he would be mad at you! Oh, heavens! How terrible!"
Saber said nothing. Morgan barked out a heinous cackle.
"Haha! I knew it! 'Saber, what did I say? You shouldn't sacrifice yourself for my sake!'"
The king paid no mind to her sister's mockery. She shoved Morgan off Caster, who rose on shaky feet.
"There are other ways to achieve our objectives," Saber snarled. "Caster deserves the chance to prove herself. If she finds a new role, the power will return to its rightful hands."
Morgan rolled her eyes.
"Oh, I'm sure all those people you sacrificed would love to hear you now, little king. What's one more death? And the most necessary, at that. Need I remind you that you cannot gain control of the Waltz otherwise, Artoria? Besides, your efforts are naive and pointless. A Fae cannot be divested of its purpose, no more than you can be divested of that flat chest."
The sudden attack caught Saber off guard, and her cheeks burst into brightest pink. She lifted an enraged fist.
"I shall have you know that Shirou prefers my body type!"
"Oh? Is that so? I seem to recall him shagging the Gorgon in one of the self-contained time loops! He chose a Greek monster over you, and you say he likes them smaller? Ha! As if!"
The witch held her thumb and index to her forehead, in the shape of an L. She flashed a wicked, shit-eating smirk.
"Loser~!"
"Why you—!"
Saber lunged; the room became a whirlwind of sword against dagger and magic against Mana Burst, with poor Caster trapped in the middle. The Fae girl curled in on herself and wailed her confusion aloud.
"Why is she even here, Saber?!"
The two sisters stopped. Morgan had Saber in a headlock, but released her with a gasp when the King of Knights slammed Caliburn's pommel into her stomach. The king brought a hand to her hip, not a lock of golden hair out of place. It was like nothing happened at all.
"Whatever do you mean, Caster? Morgan brought me to Avalon. Why would she be elsewhere?"
…
"E-Eh?"
Morgan took on a completely different appearance with the snap of her fingers. A water nymph of some sort, the most beautiful woman Caster had ever seen. 'Vivian' brought her hands to her chest in faux-worry.
"'Wh-What do you mean? Have I caused offense in some way?'"
Saber again assailed her with Caliburn. The disguised witch dodged around the blows, laughing all the while. Her humor got the better of her eventually; the Lady of the Lake's appearance bled away.
"I-It gets you every time!" she jeered. "Without fail! Oh, goodness, my lungs! Bahahaha!"
Saber's eye wouldn't stop its twitching.
"That is quite enough! Give her the truth! Caster should know the reasons for her creator's actions! She deserves that much, you conniving woman!"
"Yes, I suppose so… hey, Tonelico. Why did the Inner Sea create you?"
Caster stiffened. "To… to destroy that Britain…"
Morgan's cruel smirk gave her nothing but apprehension. "Very good. And do you know what my purpose is?"
The witch stalked forward. The Fae girl clammed up, aware of her original's intense dislike.
"N-No, I… I thought… it was the same…"
"Well, you thought wrong. Appropriate for a thing like yourself, I suppose. You see, my purpose…"
Her index finger tilted Caster's chin. Morgan bent to whisper malice in her ear.
"…is to win."
…
To…
"Wh-What… do you…?"
Two clicks of her heels, two steps back. Morgan le Fay spread her arms wide, and the magical tree blinked back to life. Every single pathway, every single dead end, lit up in golden resplendence. The words of the Fae, the language of the World, marked Morgan's objective within each reality.
WORLD 1-00.01 - Excalibur
WORLD 1-00.02 - Excalibur
WORLD 1-00.03 - Excalibur
WORLD 1-00.04 - Excalibur
WORLD 1-00.05 - Excalibur
WORLD 1-00.06 - Excalibur
WORLD 1-00.07 - Excalibur
"I was born to prevent the World's extinction," explained le Fay. "To maintain the connection between Avalon, the Swords of Promised Victory, and their wielder, Artoria Pendragon, my sister. To prepare her for her role in the war against the Crimson Moon."
WORLD 1-04.23 - Excalibur
WORLD 1-04.24 - Excalibur
WORLD 1-04.25 - Excalibur
WORLD 1-04.26 - Excalibur
"Everything I have done has been for that purpose. I birth her knights, and orchestrate their demise. I ensure she draws Caliburn, and then, when the time comes, see it destroyed!"
WORLD 2-23.38 - Excalibur
WORLD 2-23.39 - Excalibur
WORLD 2-23.40 - Excalibur
WORLD 2-23.41 - Excalibur
"I link her to Excalibur and Avalon! I slay her enemies, and become one myself! I steal her scabbard, I bury it somewhere out of sight and mind, to be dug up by a king centuries later! When necessary, I take it one step further, and ensure it reaches the hands of the Emiyas!"
WORLD 2-54.13 - Excalibur
WORLD 2-54.14 - Excalibur
WORLD 2-54.15 - Excalibur
WORLD 2-54.16 - Excalibur
"I make sure my sister's kingdom falls! I make sure she kills Mordred with Rhongomyniad! When the time for the next phase arrives, I return Excalibur here, through this very pool! I bring my precious sister to Avalon! It's my role to make their eternal dance possible! She and her consort are the performers! The swords are their orchestra! And I…"
WORLD 2-99.22 - Excalibur
WORLD 2-99.23 - Excalibur
WORLD 2-99.24 - Excalibur
WORLD 2-99.25 - Excalibur
"…am the conductor! Ahahaha—ow!"
Into the floor she went. Over her shook Saber in fury, grip in a mordhau, anger vein bulging against her temple.
"S-Silence, you megalomaniacal knave! Shirou and I are not puppets for you or the World to play with!"
The girl in the white dress turned to Caster with an imploring, desperate look.
"Please help me fix this, Caster! It has gotten out of hand! I will try to find some way for you to see your friends again, I promise! You should have never received my responsibility in the first place! My sister cares more for her job than the people it affects!"
…
Caster swallowed her nerves, nearly overwhelmed by the glow of the tree. She came here to die. She was meant to die, a tool to be used. She'd always known that. She knew it in her own world, her own Britain. But Saber refused… even though refusal meant delaying her reunion with her own favorite person. The person she loved.
Love.
She didn't know that word's definition. She didn't know if she loved Ritsuka. It sounded special, though. And she didn't know where Caster ended and Artoria began, either. But if she found out… if she found out, and learned for herself, and tried…
…
"C-Can I… really become someone else, Saber?"
The king's eyes widened for just a moment, but steeled when she looked to the sword in her hands. A sword she'd lost, and then regained.
"Things are beautiful because they are impossible," she replied. "And it is worth seeking beautiful things. Merlin told me I shan't ever see him again. I do not believe him."
Those irises of emerald lifted to her own, cut like the sharpest diamonds. Her fingers clenched Caliburn's hilt.
For the faintest, briefest moment, Caster swore she saw another pair of hands encircling Saber's own.
"I know he will one day hold me in his arms, impossible or not! So you should believe in your dreams, too, Caster!"
…
Her hesitance and uncertainty faded away.
"What do I need to do?"
Every meeting.
Every separation.
Every victory.
Every defeat.
Every life.
Every death.
Every path.
Every sword.
It is called the Waltz of Avalon.
An endless dance of sword and scabbard.
Rooted in a simple, well-known premise, with devastating consequences.
Chaldea's summoning system was fickle. Prone to error. Technology poorly mocked the magical summonings of the Grand Servants used in the World's defense, and Servants brought under Fujimaru's fold were oftentimes shadows of their true potential. To rectify this, the staff and engineers created a system whereby additional information - additional pieces of a Servant's incomplete Saint Graph - could be coaxed from the Throne and used to augment said Servant's potentially lackluster parameters.
They called this process Ascension.
It worked.
It worked because the Throne, situated outside of time and space, always contained the needed information. A Heroic Spirit was a complete record coalesced from across realities and timelines, and by pulling out select pages from those books of legend, Chaldea built its Servants into a fearsome army capable of holding the line in the Counter Force's absence.
Fujimaru discovered, during his deployment to the Sixth Lostbelt, that Avalon, too, mirrored the Throne. There was one Inner Sea, not multiple, and the Wizard of Flowers took advantage of Avalon's positioning to maintain his vigil over the many worlds in the Tree of Life.
Not once did Chaldea consider the ramifications or the implications. Ascension worked… because, albeit unknowingly, Chaldea once again mimicked one of the World's extant systems, hidden beneath the tumultuous layers of that thing called Fate: the Counter Force's method of last resort.
Its superweapon.
…
One Throne of Heroes.
One Land of Apples.
One Heroic Spirit.
One Caledfwlch.
Many Servants.
Many Excaliburs.
Many alternate realities.
Many Artoria Pendragons.
…
…
…
…
Updating L̸A̶S̶T̸ ̴P̵H̸A̵N̶T̸A̶S̸M̴ information:
CALIBURC
The Sword of Regret
Type: Anti-Purge
Rank: [DATA INSUFFICIENT]
Range: [DATA INSUFFICIENT]
Effect: [DATA INSUFFICIENT]
Description:
Excalibur.
Or, to be more precise, it is "an Excalibur augmented by many Excaliburs".
One of the three ascended sub-weapons of the Last Phantasm, Caledfwlch, the original Excalibur. Together with its sister swords, Calesvol and Caliburnus, it is responsible for commanding the Swords of Promised Victory. The various Caliburns govern access to Excalibur's utilization; as such, they form the actual sword called Caliburc, but it is from the many Excaliburs that the Sword of Regret draws its power.
Calesvol, Caliburnus and Caliburc each represent a different side of the star called Caledfwlch. As Mystic Codes slaved to Caledfwlch's command sequences, they are the delegated entities responsible for the summoning and firing of the Excalibur weapon system. If each Excalibur is a soldier, the three sub-weapons are the lords, and Caledfwlch is their king.
Calesvol is the light.
Caliburnus is the heat.
Caliburc is the shadow they create.
Branch: 2-04 ["Heaven's Feel"]
Twig: 04.16 ["Bad End 40: Femme Fatale"]
...
The world was ending.
"Mash! Left!"
"Right!"
Indeed, the world ended in the frothing mouths of the shadowed beasts assaulting their position. Suffused in the Caliburn's furious glow, Fujimaru, Kyrielight and Artoria Avalon held the line against Mainyu's devilry. The Inner Sea's flowers spread from the Sword in the Stone's impaled crack in reality. Across the floors, up the ruined walls, to seal the three in a nigh-impenetrable ruined estate. A garden of protection, originating from a location both nowhere and everywhere at once. Fujimaru noted the irony.
Emiya.
The Emiya estate, under the protection of Emiya's most powerful tool. Though in life he'd seen the scabbard a single time, once was enough to understand the connection those two wayward souls shared. What they did here was truly, absolutely necessary.
"Excalibur!"
Artoria Avalon swept her hand across the damned outskirts; her magecraft obliterated an army of ghoulish fiends in one go, but twice as many took their place. Mud lapped the flowery forcefield, while overhead, the sword of the same name clashed in titanic conflict with the Beast at the heart of this reality's ruination. Excalibur's fury twisted the red skies into sparkling conflagrations of gold and white. Clouds and mud burned away in tandem, and Mainyu dodged it all. The hellish abomination weaved and twisted around each smiting beam. Rotten arms came up swinging; Pendragon's sword twisted on its hilt, as if still wielded, and met the claw with its blade. Away, down, back it retreated. The distance gained, it righted itself, aimed, fired.
Mainyu's mud defied gravity. In an instant the wave of muck went vertical, into the putrid air, to crash against Excalibur's newest release. Though it burned beneath the torrential energy, the mud used the force to break apart into four tendrils. To the blade they raced, sickly and snake-like, faster than physically possible. Excalibur dodged one and blocked the other, but the third and fourth impacted. The sword slammed into the ruined residence, impaled up to the hilt in the dojo's floorboards.
It couldn't beat the Beast. Fujimaru's lips twisted.
—But the embodiment beat him there.
"O star above, through thee they wade!
O star above, they seek thy shade!
Beneath the Sea, unto the field!
The Sword of Regret, they ask to wield!"
Caliburn cracked.
The sound barrier broke, Angra Mainyu towered over the ruins. One of its clawed palms reared back. Time slowed.
Excalibur dislodged from the floor, spun on its axis, teleported between the party and the demon. Flickering light shimmered against its fractured blade. One last pulse from Caliburn removed the final Restraint. Fujimaru realized the truth:
The sword couldn't contain its own power.
Which was why—
"Together now, they bear thy weight!
Together now, they sever fate!"
—a second Excalibur—
"Sword and scabbard, sigh and breathe!
Sword and scabbard, draw and sheathe!"
—siphoned the overflow.
Caliburn shattered… and a new sword claimed its body.
The fabric of reality quivered.
The mana burned away the air itself.
Blood dripped from Mash's nostrils and eyes.
"Oh my God…!"
Fujimaru tackled her to the ground and covered them both with her shield. Mainyu burst into white flames; its deafening roar heralded the true apocalypse.
A culling by one sword.
By ten swords.
By twenty swords.
By thirty swords.
By forty swords.
By fifty swo—
Through the ground they phased, called into being by one of their own. Identical siblings of the same legendary blade, led by one of their own, an inverse Excalibur Morgan. Four golden rings hummed with a magical signature far beyond any of Chaldea's measurements. Its white outline flickered against the blood red clouds. Emiya's residence vaporized. The Beast swiped its hand down onto the threat, intent on ending the—
Mainyu's hand disintegrated from the wrist down, severed by a sword-turned-projectile.
By Excalibur.
An Excalibur.
The ground rumbled.
The black muck burned away.
The flowers of Avalon bloomed.
Sixty swords.
Seventy swords.
Eighty. Ninety—
"S-Senpai, I-I'm…"
Caliburc… pulsed.
And every single Sword of Promised Victory—
"I'm… really scared! This reaction…!"
—took aim at Angra Mainyu.
"His Reality Marble," Fujimaru realized. "His Reality Marble is…!"
Artoria Avalon urged them to their feet. Resignation lingered in her gaze.
"Depart at once. This world has been consigned."
The three scrambled into the void, gone.
With their departure, the countless Excaliburs of Heaven's Feel - hailing from good endings, bad endings, and everything in between - blazed to life, and submitted Angra Mainyu, and the world it destroyed, to summary execution.
…
…
…
…
Branch: 2-04 ["Heaven's Feel"]
Twig: 04.16 ["Bad End 40: Femme Fatale"]
Status: CULLED
Confusion Corner
miss me with this fanon chief
This chapter introduces lots of fanon systems created to stitch together what I believe to be one of the most glaring bits of contradictory canon currently plaguing the Nasuverse: Excalibur's strength. To do this, I again returned to the Celtic oral traditions.
For shits and giggles, I recommend reading this Confusion Corner to Hollow Ataraxia's Excalibur rendition. It'll make things exciting~!
w is not a vowel goddammit
Caledfwlch is pronounced "Caled-fulk", with the K vocalized gutturally in the throat. What is it, where does it come from, why does it matter, wtf is all this about?
Let's break it down step by step. Before we talk about the sword itself, let's make note of the first relevant bit of Nasuverse canon lore:
Magical Foundation
[ magecraft · other ]
A magical theory engraved into the world. It's strength is greatly influenced by the faith and the collective unconscious of the people.
As a Mystery propagates, it loses power. However, the reason they become more stable as knowledge about them spreads, though it may seem contradictory at first glance, is because of this system of Magical Foundations.
In the present day, the most widespread and most powerful Magical Foundation is the "Teachings of God," used by the Holy Church.
Of course, there also exist families who develop magical formulas entirely independent of such Foundations, and weirdos like Flat who "build an entirely new formula from scratch every time."
[ Lord El-Melloi II Case Files material: Lord El-Melloi II Case Files Glossary ]
Essentially: the older something is, the more powerful it is. Something created two thousand years ago will have more Mystery than something created fifty years ago, and more Mystery means more magical power. But the more often something is used, the more it becomes known. As it becomes common knowledge it loses its Mystery - literally, it becomes less mysterious - and thusly weakens.
Now ask yourself these questions:
How well known is Excalibur? Have you heard of it? Do you know what it is? Do you know the source it comes from?
How well known is Caledfwlch? Have you heard of it? Do you know what it is? Do you know the source it comes from?
Now, with those questions in mind, here's the Culhwch ac Olwen passage where Caledfwlch is first mentioned:
[...]
Spoke the boy: "I have not come here to wheedle food and drink. If I get my boon from it, I will repay it and offer praise.60 If I do not get it, I will carry [off] your honour61 to wherever your fame was in the furthest four corners of the world."
Spoke Arthur: "Though you may not remain here, chieftain, you will get whatever [boon] might be named by your head and your tongue: as far as the wind dries and the rain soaks, as far as the sun reaches, as far as the sea stretches, as far as there is land, [anything] apart from my boat, my cloak, Caledfwlch62 my sword, Rhongomyniad63 my spear, Wyneb Gwrthucher64 my shield, Carnwennan65 my knife or Gwenhwyfar66 my wife."
"God's truth upon that?"67
"You shall get it, gladly, name what you would name." 68
[...]
Next, footnote 62:
62 Caleduwlch caled (adj.) 'hard' or (n.) 'battle' + bwlch 'breach, gap, notch', i.e. 'Battle Breach(er)', or 'Hard Notch.' Comparisons have been drawn with the Irish form Caladbolg, which occurs in the Book of Leinster recension of the Tain Bó Cualigne as the name of the sword inherited by Fergus mac Róig. Despite recent objections (discussed on CO pp.64-65), it is difficult not to see a relationship between these two sword names. Caledfwlch, of course, was the ultimate source of Geoffrey of Monmouth's Caliburnus, which became Escalibor in Old French sources which was borrowed back into Middle English as the familiar Excalibur.
Make note of that: Caledfwlch means, roughly, "Hard Breach" or "Battle Breacher" or "Hard Notch".
Now, real quick, what does Excalibur mean? Let's check Wikipedia's etymology section:
[...]
In Chrétien de Troyes' late 12th-century Old French Perceval, Arthur's knight Gawain carries the sword Escalibor and it is stated, "for at his belt hung Escalibor, the finest sword that there was, which sliced through iron as through wood"[9] ("Qu'il avoit cainte Escalibor, la meillor espee qui fust, qu'ele trenche fer come fust"[10]). This statement was probably picked up by the author of the Estoire Merlin, or Vulgate Merlin, where the author (who was fond of fanciful folk etymologies) asserts that Escalibor "is a Hebrew name which means in French 'cuts iron, steel, and wood'"[11] ("c'est non Ebrieu qui dist en franchois trenche fer & achier et fust"; note that the word for "steel" here, achier, also means "blade" or "sword" and comes from medieval Latin aciarium, a derivative of acies "sharp", so there is no direct connection with Latin chalybs in this etymology). It is from this fanciful etymological musing that Thomas Malory got the notion that Excalibur meant "cut steel"[12] ("'the name of it,' said the lady, 'is Excalibur, that is as moche to say, as Cut stele'").
So Caledfwlch means "Hard Breach" or "Battle Breacher" or "Hard Notch", but Excalibur means "cut steel". Why is this important? Again, more Nasuverse lore:
Noble Phantasm
[ armament ]
The armaments carried by Heroic Spirits, made from humanity's illusions.
Though they generally come in the form of things like swords, spears, or bows, there are also those Heroic Spirits whose Noble Phantasms are auxiliary armaments like shields, rings, or crowns.
They are solidified "mysteries," and injecting them with magical energy while calling their true name will unleash their abilities.
[ Fate/side material: Fate Encyclopedia ]
It's important because Excalibur is an incorrect translation. The two names don't mean the same thing. Dear reader, are you read for the hottest of all hot takes? Here we go:
In all this time, in the twenty-plus years the Nasuverse has been a thing, King Arthur, man or woman, has never once announced their Noble Phantasm's actual True Name.
the last phantasm
Why am I doing this? Why am I going so far? Because I want to prove that, with a bit of creativity and elbow grease, it is fully possible to reconcile previously contradictory canon entries into a unified product, and that Nasu is, bluntly speaking, being fucking lazy. He has no excuse. I am literally a random asshole on the internet doing this as an unpaid hobby. Fateless is a shitty fanfic.
In the modern Nasuverse, Excalibur has, over time, become a measuring stick against which other Noble Phantasms or abilities are compared and hyped. "Noble Phantasm X is as strong as Excalibur" is becoming more and more a common phrase, but by claiming this, canon worldbuilding gets retconned or left in question.
Canon statement: per Lostbelt 6, Excalibur was created by the World itself in 12,000 BC.
Additional sources of canon statement:
Excalibur
[ noble phantasm ]
Excalibur is Saber's ultimate weapon, the sword said to have been bestowed on King Arthur by the Lady of the Lake. It is a Rank A++ anti-fortress Noble Phantasm. Excalibur is a divine construct forged by the planet as the crystallization of the wishes of mankind for how they want the world to be. Refined and perfected within the planet itself, it is the "Strongest Illusion" (Last Phantasm). Excalibur transforms its wielder's magical energy into light, emitting an all-destroying beam of converging, accelerating light from the tip of the sword. Its overbearing strength massively affects the surrounding area, which limits how (where) it can be used. It also consumes significant magical energy.
[ Fate/Zero Animation Guide I: Glossary of the holy grail war I ]
Titan Altera
[ anti-cell ]
[…]
Her invasions of the Moon and Earth thus began simultaneously.
Although she caused tremendous damage to both, including the destruction of many other celestial beings who had descended to Earth, she was eventually defeated on both fronts. The Moon Cell repelled and quarantined her Anti-Cell form, while on Earth, she fell at the hands of a human wielding the fabled Holy Sword.
Altera's avatar on Earth became a giant corpse, but her main self, on the Moon, was only sealed away.
Since the Moon Cell had no way to delete Altera, it quarantined her, along with the Star of Tears1 in which she arrived, in a zone later known as the Zero Dark (undefined address space).
And there she stayed until the time of our story, 14,000 years later.
[…]
[ Fate/EXTELLA material: Encyclopedia of Fate EXTELLA ]
Extella takes place in the 2030s. 2000 - 14000 is therefore 12,000 BC.
Canon worldbuilding thusly says: according to the principles of Mystery, and given that there are so far only two wielders, few things should be able to match this sword's strength.
But then along comes dear Castoria and her FGO materials:
Bond 5:
When [Caster] Artoria reaches her Third Stage Ascension, she can use many of her treasured swords as catalysts for magecraft.
The Shadow-Treading Carnwennan, the Lightning Flash Spumador, and the Mythological Mystic Code Marmyadose.
The gigantic staff that Artoria carries in her Third Stage Ascension is a large sword that was forged by the God of Fire and given to great heroes.
It is said that this sword exceeds Excalibur in power alone, and during times when King Arthur would lend Excalibur to Gawain, she used this large sword as a substitute.
And then during a 4Gamer interview discussing Tsukire, we get this little tidbit that goes uncorrected (machine translated):
Scene explanation: Event contraction-revealing
First of all, about the climax of the Ciel route, a series of battle scenes from event contraction to photonicization. According to Mr. Nasu, he wanted to make it flashy anyway, and it is quite powerful in terms of staging. He wants you to enjoy the script production unique to the novel game, which is different from a simple movie.
The scene where ALC's power is accumulated after the event is stored is the heaviest scene in the work, and the effects of the round ring are all in different layers, and each one is flickering. It is said that it was designed to loop as a video, and it was difficult to move it on a consumer machine.
In addition to the special materials, BLACK's existing materials are combined to express the transformation scenes of the 7th scriptures and the Calvaria scenes.
Calvaria, an attack with the motif of Golgoda Hill, was set as a trump card for Ciel against Arcueid, the alter ego of the earth. Since it was an attack from the stratosphere, it could not be prevented even with an arcueid that could detect the attack in the Earth's gravitational sphere. The scale of mystery is the same as Excalibur (although it has different uses), and it is not an exaggeration to say that it is one of the top magically.
So.
Is Mystery wrong?
Is the Nasuverse's foundational worldbuilding, the thing that allows magi to use their magecraft, wrong? Is that not how it works? Am I thinking about this way too hard? Am I putting disproportionate effort into a shitty fanfic I'm writing for free? Am I in desperate need of cool Ado Edem fanart?
Luckily, we can use a thousand year old Arthurian story to create a technicality, a loophole. One final bit of Nasuverse lore:
-Excalibur
Said to have existed in England, it is the sword of the king of knights known as the symbol of knighthood. The strongest Noble Phantasm of all Servants, sealed in numerous boundary fields.
That is Saber's symbol of heroism.
[ Fate/stay night - Fate route - Day 10: Sword of Promised Victory ]
See, those comparisons of power are talking about Excalibur. But if we combine Excalibur's IRL etymology with the Nasuverse's lore on Mystery and Excalibur's restraints, we can then create a situation in which everything plays nice. Meaning: Calvaria's Star and Marmyadose can both be just as strong as Excalibur, because Excalibur is weak Caledfwlch, and Caledfwlch is thusly strong Excalibur.
This gives us our defining loophole:
When Excalibur blew up Sefar (Titan Altera), it wasn't called Excalibur.
Mystery says that the more mysterious and older something is, the more power it has. The name Caledfwlch is both more mysterious and older than the name Excalibur, but both names describe the same damn sword. Like this, we can recreate the Heroic Spirit-Servant relationship, and, through use of the Nasuverse's lore and Arthurian mythology, introduce the idea that AN Excalibur - an individual, timeline-specific Excalibur - is just a sliver of THE Caledfwlch's power. And as the swords begin to fuse and regain their lost Mystery, Excalibur's name likewise begins to travel back in time, to the various intermediary names halfway between Excalibur and Caledfwlch: Calesvol (Middle Welsh), Caliburc (French), and Caliburnus (Latin), aka the three primary languages of Arthurian mythology.
For the sake of objectivity and clarity, I'll say that I know about the conundrum that is the Caladbolg/Caledfwlch relationship. But, friends, take a look at Fergus' FGO materials:
Bond 3:
Tradition says that a light sprang out like a rainbow and destroyed the hill, and this aspect of the weapon is retained in its nature as a Noble Phantasm. In other words, its massive destructive power can shatter the Earth itself.
It has been said that, in later ages, it became the model for the magic swords and sacred swords that many heroes obtained.
Also, the model of Excalibur Galatine.
The sword is nicknamed "Rainbow Sword" because of this legend.
That's right: despite all of it being fanon, everything you just read in this chapter is canon compliant. The Waltz of Avalon is supported by the Nasuverse's many rules. Unless I overlooked something critical (which admittedly is always a possibility), all of this should be hypothetically possible.
We're in the clear.
Last but not least, for those who want the chant but don't want to hunt down the italics:
The Waltz of Avalon
10-count aria - CALIBURC:
They seek you now, O star of love.
Your guidance, that spark, so high above.
In thy shade do they rest.
In thy warmth do they nest.
In thy light do they hope.
In thy humanity do they cope.
Struggle they must for thy glory most grand.
Betrayed not once by thy endless demand!
So much they give, so little they take!
The dream ends now, 'tis time to wake!
Never more to be led astray!
Ebb and flow, thusly they pray!
O star above, through thee they wade!
O star above, they seek thy shade!
Beneath the Sea, unto the field!
The Sword of Regret, they ask to wield!
Together now, they bear thy weight!
Together now, they sever fate!
Sword and scabbard, sigh and breathe!
Sword and scabbard, draw and sheathe!