The Siege
(End)
The first impression of Artoria, when she woke up, was thats he was beaten with a blacksmith's hammer. She opened her eyes heavily. The blinding brightness of the day twisted her brain and she closed her eyelids by clenching her teeth. As brief and painful as her glance was, she had learned that she was lying on a bed.
As we pressed something damp on her forehead, she forced herself to look again. The knight woman then discovered a face leaning over her... Rin Tohsaka. The young Magus had a thin smile:
- Ah... you're finally awake.
Despite the reassuring note she felt in the voice of Archer's former Master, Rin managed to make it sound like a reproach addressed to a slacker.
- Rin? What happened?
By reflex, Saber tried to straighten herself out. However, her nurse pushed her back with one hand, as if she were just a child.
- You were injured in a battle the day before yesterday.
- What are you doing here?
Rin pointed her finger right under Artoria's nose:
- And what do you think I'm doing, Saber? I'm treating you.
The adolescent girl in a red dress crossed her arms on her chest and turned her head aside, the lively movement made her pigtails weave:
- And you better thank me.
A slight smile played on Artoria's lips... Already during the Grail War, Rin was taking care of Shiro's wounds. Since he had Avalon in him, it didn't serve much... but it was her way of showing tenderness and attention. Rin had lost her parents early and had been raised by this monster of Kirei Kotomine. Magus had not learned to show affection to others. Shiro had used a term to define it... ah, yes... tsundere. A hard-sweet.
- Thank you Rin.
Always turned aside, the Magus seemed not to have heard, but a suspicious redness appeared on his cheeks:
-It-it-it-it-it's normal to help your allies. And I'm the best trainer here.
- How did you get here?
She shrugged her shoulders:
- The siege does not prevent the teleporters of the Guild of the Magi from operating.
Artoria nodded, holding a grimace of pain as she moved her left arm. Realizing this, Rin scolded her, telling her to lie down. She then began to describe her injuries... and the list turned out to be long. Saber, however, was alarmed by everything else:
- You told me you lived in Torrent? I saw a column of smoke rising from the city. I thought the orcs had taken it.
- Oh, they tried.
Busy unpacking her shoulder, Rin didn't seem to want to say any more. Artoria, however, insisted. Her friend squished her eyes, masking her mouth with one hand, while displaying a perfectly evil expression:
- That intrigues you, Saber.
And the knight nodded:
- I admit it. We have had such difficulties here.
While working to heal her wounds, Tohsaka began to recount the assault of the Orcs on Torrent.
Murguk gro-Mudig commanded an army of several thousand fighters, half of them orcs. His fellow men, larger than humans, more heavily structured had green skin, brutal features with apparent canines that gave them a swine appearance. For millennia, there was a mutual hatred between them and the Bretons. The orcs said that they once lived in a peaceful and tolerant society, welcoming the reprobates of all species... until the inhabitants of Hight-rock stormed their capital of Orsinium and razed it. The Bretons claimed that the Orcs had always been aggressive and that they had only retaliated against their attacks.
The truth? Long forgotten and who cared, anyway? Both races repeated an inexpressible hatred that frequently led to the worst outbursts of genocidal fury. The current assault on Menevia is nothing more than a revenge taken - centuries after the events- on the atrocities committed during the fall of Orsinium.
The Brétons saw the orcs as uncultivated savages.
Past racist prejudice, it had to be recognized that their tribal society was ignorant of writing and governed by the grip of the strongest. Each tribe had its leader who ruled until it fell under the blade of a suitor... often one of its own sons. The law boiled down to the "Malakath's code" which would only have required one page to be laid on the scroll. The tribal leader was the only male to have the right to reproduce, so all the young were the children of the women of his harem. The other males were warriors or hunters. The females also hunted or looked after the forge. Only they became "learned woman", that is to say shaman, creators of poisons and drugs that increased the effectiveness of the combatants. However, all worked in the mines.
Apart from their savagery in combat, and their courage, the orcs impressed other races only by their knowledge of the art of forging. They were the only ones who knew how to properly work a green ore called "orichalcum". They made weapons and armor much stronger than steel.
Well aware of the strength of his people, and of the numerical superiority of his horde, Murguk gro-Mudig believed that the small town of Torrent, built on the east bank of the Bjoulsae, would offer him an easy victory and a consequent spoil.
He was wrong about that.
The orcs moved forward, carrying siege ladders, between each attendant stood a warrior raising a large shield. Archers formed the first line, shooting towards the ramparts of Torrent.
Suddenly, an arrow seeming to be made of silver light was pulled towards the sky... the singular projectile multiplied by falling back.
Stunned, Murguk gro-Mudig saw an entire block of his warriors collapse to the ground... not a shot had missed his target, all proved deadly. Worse, the silver projectiles immediately began to dissolve into blue particles.
- Siege shields!
The order of the tribal leader was immediately followed by his execution. Mounted on a wheel, these mantlets were used to protect the advance of the warriors. No arrow could pass through their thick oak planks.
At the top of a tower of the castle of Torrent, a hooded figure had a sardonic smile.
The instant after a projectile shattered the first mantlet. Murguk gro-Mudig saw an orc tear off the ground and fall down five meters further, its armor sunk. The chief's eyes almost came out of his head. The arrow that had just killed him looked like... a sword! As if a madman had forged anew a blade to shoot it on a bow! Dementia, nobody...
Another orc perishes, crossed by a sword. Then another... and another. The mysterious attacker didn't care what he was doing was supposed to be impossible. He drew one of his "sword arrows" after the other and each shot proved to be deadly.
The orcs retreated, leaving nearly a hundred dead after only a few minutes of assault.
They returned a few hours later, pushing in front of them a siege tower.
The watchman wrapped in a red cape was the first to discover this new threat. He held out a hand and a big black bow materialized there. A red flame grows in its palm, letting appear a... sword? If you can call it that, a weapon whose blade looked like a screw step. He encoded it and stretched the rope. The sword changed strangely, lengthening and thinning, while impressive light effects shone around the character in a red cape:
- Caladbolg!
A supersonic bang was heard as the Fake Spiral Sword launched, falling down to the ground like a meteor. An instant later, it hit the mobile tower. The world faded into a sphere of fire that dazzled anyone who looked in its direction. When they were able to open their eyes again, it was to discover a huge crater still plagued by flames, stones still fell around.
The orcs who survived the attack were wandering in all directions, fleeing from the thick column of smoke that was rising to the sky.
Saber opened her eyes wide:
- Archer! So... the Servant you met...
Rin nodded her head:
- He came to Torrent when I was eight years old. My parents - those of this world- had just died in an accident and an uncle wanted to adopt me to get hold of the family fortune. And... Archer came to demonstrate the wrongdoing of the uncle in question.
The Magus had a softened smile, rather unusual.
- He stood there with his usual smirk, refusing to explain to me how he found me or why he was helping me. Five minutes after she arrived, I already wanted to strangle her...
Saber shook her head with an amused expression:
- I see...
Indeed, the King of the Knights had no trouble imagining the scene. Archer could be so arrogant that even she would grind her teeth in his presence. However, he had shown qualities of fighters that had impressed her during the Fourth Grail War. Didn't he kill Berserker six times (1) during his fight against him? His sacrifice had saved his Master, Shiro and her, allowing them to find a method for... a little red appeared on Saber's cheeks... to renew her energy connection with her own Master. Otherwise, they would have all perished in the Einzbern forest.
Hes friend's sudden redness had not escaped Rin... contrary to her reasons.
- You still have a fever and I'm talking to you...
Without listening to Saber's protests, Tohsaka forced her back into her pillows; ordering her to rest in an unanswered tone. The extent of her weakness was such that the King of the Knights ceased to struggle. The pain drove away all conscious thought and fell back into a heavy sleep.
With her eyes closed, caught in the world of dreams, Saber relived the frightening moment when she had freed herself from the wyvern, falling from the sky. Time went by in slow motion. She could see beneath her all the fury of the battle.
She could see a knight mentor wearing a blue and red tabard adorned with the symbol of the god Julianos on his armor. With the stroke of his war hammer, he crushed a goblin before collapsing, pierced in the back by a barbarian armed with a spear.
A battle among others, from her position between heaven and hell, scenes of carnages, dead and dying spread in all directions. She was falling... she should fall! Yet, Artoria remained suspended to watch the atrocious reality of battle.
A golden light made her turn her head.
A gigantic statue had appeared on the battlefield without any of the fighters seems to see it except Saber. It represented a woman, arms wide apart, eyes closed, a veil covered her hair and her beautiful face expressed kindness and sadness.
A voice echoed in Artoria's mind:
- All this... all this has never been written in the eternal lines of destiny. The Scrolls of the Ancients have never evoked this battle. This siege never took place... the time was changed, Arthur Pendragon king of Britain or should I say Servant Saber?
- Who are you?
- The one who must guide you, O King of the Knights. My name is Mara, goddess of compassion and I weep for the destiny of mortals. There is no such thing as this cursed war. It is not written in the events of time... yet... yet... you see, mortals die in this conflict that does not exist. And why is that?
Caught in the dream, Saber could not concentrate. She knew who the cause of all this was... yet the name burned her lips without her being able to pronounce it.
- The person responsible is Angra Mainyu, the evil that filled the Fuyuki Grail. The reckless vows that you and your Master made at the end of the Grail War are the cause of my children's suffering.
Artoria strangled. Once again, her decisions had precipitated an entire people into the chaos of war. Overwhelmed, she wanted to speak, to ask forgiveness, to implore the help of the goddess so that she would allow her to make amends for her sin. But Saber remained powerless. She could only watch Mara standing in the midst of the atrocious battle.
Yet the goddess seemed conscious of the course of her thoughts because she replied:
- You are not the first to be manipulated by evil. This is its greatest power, to use pure souls, righteous hearts to sow the seeds of discord. I need you very much, King Arthur. The Aedras are powerful. We created this world; we protect the life of all who have been begotten there. Yet we belong to this world. This limits our influence in the face of what is foreign to it. Like Angra Mainyu. But you... you and your Master... you are also strangers. More than anything else you are the cause of what is happening. What you did, you can undo.
In the hands of the goddess appeared the image of a two handed sword. A golden brightness shone at it pommel as on it crescent guard. The handle was of blue enamel and this same material inlaid at the base of its blade appeared among the gold.
EXCALIBUR: SWORD OF THE PROMISED VICTORY
-Seek your sword, the true breath of the stars, and the torrent of life. It is the focal point of your ideal, its materialization; it concretizes the faith of men in the coming of a saving king who will free them from oppression. There is no hope for Nirn except in your meeting... all other roads lead to nothingness.
Artoria Pendragon bowed over her bed, heart pounding. The horrible nightmare did not dissipate from her memory as she was staring at the ceiling. Everything seemed too real. Her body was rested, despite a pasty mouth. A long time had had to pass by the light that filtered through the windows. The sun had continued its course and no longer directly illuminated the room. For the first time, Saber was able to turn her head. She recognized this long barracks with beds were wounded moaned as the military hospital associated with the garrison of Wayrest.
Artoria stood up and made some movements. She held a grimace. Her shoulder was pulling her, as was her left arm, and bandages were sticking to her chest. Nevertheless, Saber now felt in good enough shape to leave the place. The sense of urgency had not left her when he woke up. Had she really spoken to Mara, the goddess of marriage, of generosity and goodness? On Nirn, the Age of the Gods had not ended; they often intervened in the life of mortals. Above all, her instincts warned her that a great danger was weighing on this world... now her world even though Mara had spoken of Shiro and her as strangers.
Holding her ear, the ring heard the tumult of distant battles.
Her hauberk had been repaired; her shield and her sword had been replaced. She dressed and armed herself, slowly, her face tensed by pain. Every move made her suffer.
Once this was done, Artoria looked towards the nearby ramparts. Wayrest guards armed with bows held the wall, exchanging fire with invisible opponents. Yet it was not from this area of fortifications that the rumors of fighting originated. Artoria Pendragon gave up going up the stairs to talk to the soldiers of Menevia. No, helping these men would be useless. The fight went beyond the siege, it included all of Nirn. Excalibur... she had to find Excalibur. Mara had not said anything about it position, but it seemed obvious that it had followed her to Nirn.
Fastening her sword-belt, the shield on her shoulder, and the helmet in the hollow of her arm, the teenager girl left for the royal palace. Only King Eadwyre could help her.
Saber had made no more than a few steps than a great cry came out of a thousand mouths:
- The doors are compromised!
For a besieged city, there is no greater misfortune. If the enemy captures and guards one of the entrances, the defense becomes impossible! Artoria rushed forward. Others had reacted like her; city dwellers seized the first weapon-capable object, joined by soldiers on patrol and wounded exited the hospital.
This commandless troop reached the square in front of the northwest gate. The defenders, on the way round, had been the first to react to the alarm horn. They had rushed down the stairs and were now fighting on its steps, trying to repel the barbarians who were coming from the postern.
Reinforcements appeared at the right time. The assailants were not yet large enough to storm the city, and the soldiers occupying the walls were mobilizing all their resources. The unruly rush caused the savages in iron armor to stumble. In the furious melee that followed, Saber quickly eliminated a first barbarian before finding herself in front of another who charged her. The robber's yataghan and her sword threw sparks as they collided. Then the girl counter-attacked, hitting her opponent three times. Two were just scratches, but the sword failed to disembowel the looter, crossing his rough rusty armor. With his hand pressed against his wound, he wanted to fight back. Then Artoria struck him in the heart.
The fury of the townspeople had broken the barbarian line. However, the momentum of the assault was rapidly exhausting as new reinforcements continued to flow through the door. Artoria gave voice, calling on the defenders to take back the guardhouse where the harrow controls were. The charisma of King Arthur electrified the fighters who drew from her inspiration the strength to repel the enemy. Alas, many were not professional fighters and their courage was punished with a heavy price. Only a dozen men entered the bastion. Artoria rushed up the stairs, letting her allies contain the barbarians. She defied the winch ring. And, in the clash of loose chains, fell the grate of wood and iron.
Cut off from the bulk of their forces, the barbarian warriors knew they had little time left before being crushed. They did the only thing they could do... they concentrated to take back the guard corps and reopen the harrow. They swept away the defenders within moments and Artoria found herself on the steps facing six barbarians in iron armor and war masks, wielding two-handed weapons.
The first attacker doesn't have time to figure out what's happening to him. With a kick in the face propelled he over the railing and he crashed far below. With his throat cut, the second followed him a moment later, dragging a companion into his fall. The last three assailants acted with more caution. This little woman proved to be a powerful adversary even if nothing in her appearance could make them believe it. They attacked all three and Artoria braided an iron wall in front of them with her sword, stopping the attacks, repelling the blades and splitting sharply to counter-attack. A warrior collapsed quickly, coughing up blood as she had touched the unarmed part of the armor, but the others retreated cautiously. Good, she could catch her breath... They came back with reinforcements, furious, probably just as shameful to let a little girl terrify them, but unable to back down. Once again the blows exchanged and Artoria turned her sword sharply. As air swirls wrapped around the blade, a bluish aura palpitated along her arms from her shoulders to her hands gloved with iron mesh:
-O wind... Strike Air!
Torn from the ground by a roaring whirlwind, warriors fell back into the void in the company of the corpses of their friends... in the midst of a rain of pieces of wood as well as tiles ripped from the roof.
The show of force cooled the barbarians. They were preparing to go back to the assault when the trumpets rang. Coming from the street, mounted knights charged, banners of the Order of the Rose slamming in the wind, spears stretched. Aided by surprise, the noble in armor of plates plunged violently into the mass of foot-soldiers, repelling the enemy. In the confusion, Artoria had been momentarily forgotten. Notifying the chief of looters, a great barbarian in heavy armor, she jumped right next to him from a window, beheading her neighbor in the process.
Drawing a large scimitar with two hands, the enemy officer began a dazzling demonstration of it handling. Unlike the simple fighters she had faced until then, Saber was facing an enemy of value. Slower than she, however, he was better on both offensive and defensive.
The fight stretched into a binding of blades. To break it, Artoria "fugua". She quickly retreated laterally and simultaneously stood en garde again. However, the enemy threw himself forward, attacking from the point by aiming at the throat and face. The blows were carried out without war by force, but with speed. The King of the Knights merely struck the tip of the blade outwards. Despite his helmet, she felt the enemy grimacing, surprised by the shock he had just felt on his wrist.
As the barbarian came back to her by knocking mightily, she took a step aside at the last moment... before spinning on herself with the elegance of a dancer. Her opponent's blade struck the ground and Saber placed his foot on it in order to block it. Already, taking advantage of the opening, she pushed her own blade under his helmet. He collapsed on his knees as the flood of his blood poured out on his chest.
At the end of an exhausting battle, covered with wounds, and the mails of her armor broken in many places, the former king of Brittany leaned against the wall to catch her breath. The knights were circling in the courtyard of the châtelet, sounding with their spears the multiple corpses lying on the ground. But there were no more barbarians alive. The assault had been repelled... Artoria's eyes folded as she gazed at the bodies of the inhabitants and the guards who mingled with the remains of the enemies. Who had opened the doors? Because the doors had not been broken in, someone had opened them from the inside.
Before King Eawyre, Saber received Rin's first aid.
- ... There is no doubt that the enemy has agents in town. This means that we must fear that they will try again to open a door. But other options are possible, Your Majesty: to poison the wells, to burn the food reserves... even to harm your life, sire.
The old king nodded his head covered in snowy hair:
- I must once again thank you for your vigilance, Lady Pendragon. My kingdom and this city owe you much. We, Eawyre King of Menevia, would like to reward you. If he is in our power, we will hear you.
Saber hesitated but she could not refuse this offer:
- Your Majesty, do not think I am acting out of cowardice, but I must leave the city as soon as possible. While I was sleeping, I had a dream... Lady Mara appeared to me revealing that the assault on this city was caused by the actions of an evil spirit called Angra Mainyu.
Quickly, the King of the Knights summed up what she knew about this monster. She did not lie, but avoided any mention of her coming from another world or the Grail War merely saying that a magical experience gone wrong was at the origin of the birth of Angra.
- ... Sire, according to Lady Mara, only the Excalibur sword can destroy this monster. Nevertheless... I don't know where it is.
- But I know that!
King Eadwyre and the Artoria turned to Rin who was always busy caring her friend. Realizing that she had spoken without permission she blushed, then coughed in her fist before correcting:
- Well, I found a legend mentioning it.
Rin offered King Arthur a Machiavellian smile:
- Because you see, your sword has been waiting for you for a very long time, since the First Era, and you are lucky that the great Summoner Corvus Direnni understood that Excalibur was a blade of another world. As no one could handle it, he also understood that it was waiting for is real owner. When he died, he hid it in his grave... and hid his grave in an Outer Kingdom... a plan of Oblivion.
Queen Barenzia shouted:
- But then no one can find her.
- Artoria is destined to take this blade, Your Majesty, she will. I am going with her.
Saber frowned, staring at her friend. She understood that Rin had already done some research to find her... and that the story of Excalibur had thus been revealed to her. However, despite her own conviction that her sword would necessarily return to her hand, she could not be so optimistic.
- You have an idea where to look.
It was not a question and the Magus understood it well:
- Yes, if you're looking for the tomb of a Direnni clan mage. There's only one place to start the search.
- The island of Balfiera.
A hand passed under her breasts, Rin raising a finger as every time she lectured someone:
- Exactly, the Direnni ruled all of Hight-Rock at the time when this country was called "Hegemony Direnni". However, the heart of their ancient empire, as its last shred stretches around the Tower of Adamantine.
The Tower of Adamantine (or Direnni Tower) was the place where the gods lived when they walked among mortals. Probably the most powerful place of power in all of Nirn.
(1) Six times in the game (but only five times in the anime). However this Fanfic is well based on the game.
Author's note: This chapter ends both "The Siege" and the first part of the saga that I am writing right now. The rest will make us change the mood since we will move away from the battlefields but also from Saber... to meet Shiro Emiya, because his destiny is as important as his former Servant's.
Feel free to comment, ask for clarification, but with respect to each other's opinions.