The Prophecy

The banquet hall of King Gothryd was a large rectangular room. The walls were decorated with large banners, weapons and tapestries. The table of the feast formed a long U. In its central part, one could see the king and his relatives, the back heated by a large fireplace.

The monarch was not thirty-five years old. Wavy hair, as brown as his piercing eyes under eternally frowned eyebrows, he seemed ceaselessly suspicious. He was dressed in a long, scalloped-sleeved greatcoat cut from white silk and decorated with vegetal motifs. He only wore his necklace of Grand Master of the Order of the Dragon, made of heavy gold plates inlaid with jewels, and the splendid royal crown, decorated with rubies, emeralds and sapphires.

His wife was standing to his left. Queen Aubrk-i, daughter of King Camlorn of Martenfell, was sitting in a carved cathedrum. She was a beautiful Redguard. Like all members of this people, she had black skin. Her long hair was carefully brushed back and girded by a gold-plated tiara and diamonds. She wore a beautiful cotardia (1) of red satin embroidered with gold threads.

Of course, in a society as hierarchical as a feudal kingdom, the place occupied by each reflected its rank. The members of the royal family, their close advisors ate by their side. The nobles of high ranks were located further from the fireplace. Then, the courtesans and the smaller guests who found themselves pushed back to the ends of the two branches of the U formed by the banquet table.
All, however, ate in silver dishes, surrounded by many servants. Each high-ranking nobleman had his own carving squire to prepare his food, and above all to ensure that his master was not poisoned. Young pages dressed in green tobard adorned with the red dragon came and went. Some wore basins and ewers so that the guests washed their hands, while others filled the wine cups.

In the center of the U-shaped table various artists performed between each service. And so wandering actors played after skilled jugglers, the king's fool and his countless funny stories, tame monsters and troubadours singing ancient legends.

The feast was given by King Gothryd in honor of the recent victory against the lichs who had dared to assail his capital of Daggerfall.

The fourth service began with a procession of servants from the kitchens. They carried dishes where roosters still rissolated, golden and crispy skin, surrounded by vegetables and arranged with art. The sommeliers accompanied them to exchange the bottles of white wine that had accompanied the fish and lobsters of the third service with a spicy red wine.

All those people were talking.

Intimate enemies exchanged missives carried by their servants, trading or threatening each other. Gallant knights boasted their prowess in front of beautiful damsels with rich adornments. They all spoke of politics, because everything was political in the court of a Breton king.

Among the great lords was a trio of intruders. The three young who had distinguished themselves most in battle had been seated as close to the king as was expedient.

Shiro Emiya, dressed in blue and white velvet, sat between Artoria Pendragon and Rin Tohsaka. If the reincarnated Japanese yielded to local fashion, wearing a red silk dress of Beau Maintien that was reminiscent of that of the queen, Saber had dressed as a man. Her doblet had punctured sleeves, which showed a red silk lining embroidered with gold tulips. As usual, she was superb and the male costume was not deceiving. Much more, this cold and graceful beauty distilled a murky feeling in such an outfit.

As usual, Artoria showed a good appetite. She sometimes responded briefly to her neighbor on the left - a little too enterprising for her taste- but did nothing to feed the conversation. As for Rin, she constantly frowned and did not hide her bad mood. Over the past few days, she had tried to access the royal archives to learn more about the last two fragments of the Corvus Crystal... Unfortunately, even her recent status as a local hero did not give her access to certain parts of the castle.

Between his two silent neighbors, Shiro felt embarrassed and it was obvious... Especially, since on several occasions, servants had come to bring him letters from gents damsels interested in... Let's say learn more about the young hero... and more so if affinity.

To his left, Artoria had welcomed every new missive with a furious lip pinch. Shiro laughed awkwardly:

- I have no intention of joining one of them, you know.

- Shiro, you do not owe me any explanation. After all, if you decide to go to see one of these noble damsels, it is up to you. It's not like I waited 15 years for you after all.

The coldness in the voice of his friend had probably frozen the wine in the cups, but the Hero of the Swords hardly swallowed, spreading with one the finger the -suddenly- tight collar. He was suffocating... he didn't know why.

Shiro had only seen this frosty expression once at Artoria. The day Fuji-nee took charge of the evening meal and prepared a tamagoyaki. Until then, Shiro had thought that anyone could make an omelet. That it was inscribed in everyone's genes. So he had promised Artoria that Taiga would do well... except that Taiga had completely missed the dish that was so inedible that his Servant had not even finished her first plate! Feeling betrayed she had made him pay dearly during their next (truly infernal) training.

Obviously, between the affairs of the heart and the contents of her plate, there was not a great difference in Saber's eyes!

The exchange between her two friends had taken Rin out of her gloomy thoughts. Amused, she prepared to intervene. It was the perfect time to rub Shiro in. The fact that it was a royal banquet and that the exchange was listened to by all was not enough to hold it back. She inherited a family curse that made her make etiquette errors at the worst possible time...

However, a tingling through her Magic Circuits stopped her. In an instant, her mischievous smile was replaced by a restless pout. Among the guests, everyone who had a sensitivity to magic reacted in a similar way. Before anyone had time to warn, it started.

Between the entrance door and the end of the table, a golden, green and violet light form unfolded. In an instant the swirl of color deformed and reformed into a feminine silhouette leaning on a long staff, a raven perched on her shoulder. Her dress, long and split on the side, was green. Her black hair was flowing freely in her back and on her chest. Her eyes were surrounded by a make-up, almost a mask that represented a butterfly with outstretched wings.

The stranger's outbursts smothered all the conversations, except for a few shouts of surprise.
All the activity froze in the banquet hall. It emanated from this woman a feeling of power and strangeness. It was not a simple Magus - if it exists at all- but a powerful person, wrapped in an aura of mystery.

Saber was the first to react, rising from her seat:

- Who dares to come without being invited to the feast of Gothryd king of Daenia? The knife went into the meat and the wine is in the cup. No one can enter without asking the doorman, who in turn cannot open without the king's consent. Let not your tongue remain as dead in your mouth. Name yourself and explain the reasons for your intrusion into these peaceful places! (2)

Shiro noted that Artoria had not dropped her table knife... a derisory weapon if he is, but the only one at her disposal. The Jane Doe was just looking at Saber and her friends... and she only took a brief look at the rest of the room. Her voice rose, calm and peaceful:

- My name is Le Fey, son of Uther. I come as I please. No door is closed for me. Besides, is it not the custom that the gate be opened for those who come to bring their art to the king? I am not an enemy of King Gothryd and beg him to excuse me for disturbing his meal by my presence.

The young sovereign was now surrounded by several dragon guards in armor of plates, the face invisible behind their helmets reinforced and brandishing spears. Others were headed for Le Fey who knew them superbly.

As for Artoria, she briefly showed a shocked expression. Le Fey? It was the nickname of her half-sister Morgane. Moreover...

- Son of Uther?

The Fey smiles:

- As I say, I bring my art which is that of prophecy. My prediction concerns you, O Arthur Pendragon. You have come to Nirn to fulfill your destiny. Your hands and those of Shiro Emiya will guide the destiny of the Tamriel Empire. You pulled yourself out of the hill blushed by the blood of fallen knights and the ruins of a kingdom destroyed by treason passing twice by the fire of war. Dead, you were born a second time the day a great king fell. The omens of heaven have announced that the crown that lies in the mud will soon rest on your forehead.

The announcement of Le Fey caused a real commotion among the participants of the banquet.

Gothryd recalled his guards before they intervened. A hand under the chin, he looked alternately towards Artoria and Shiro or towards Le Fey. Gothryd seemed interested. However, the crease in his mouth also marked a deep irritation.

Artoria glanced at Rin, and she nodded, urging her to continue the strange dialogue.

- I am not asking for a crown.

- Yes, but do you really have a choice in this matter ? Are those who demand a crown really the most worthy to wear them? The good king brings victory to the kingdom, the bad king leads it to defeat. O King Arthur, as always you will have to gird Excalibur to fight against the demon of silt and shadow. You will have to travel between the daggers aiming at your back, the bravado of the arrogant, and the murmurs of the schemers.

- Where should I go?

- You are holding a piece of crystal, a fragment of a key, the beginning of a road. Along the shore of the shipwreckers, to the distant north, passes the plains and rivers to reach the land of the tyrant sitting on a throne of children's bones. Like you, he comes from the world of the Grail. Master defeated by his own Servant, brought back to life as Shiro Emiya wanted.

With her finger, Le Fey pointed to the redhead blacksmith who quivered in response. Nevertheless, the prophetess continued:

- The second shard you will find in the wood where the gallows grow, carrying their fruit of death hung on their noose. Look for the greatest scourge, the Reikr with blue skin, evil wizard that ravages the country. He has it. Then climbed the ungodly mountains by circled paths, to the tyrant's castle. The last sparkle is there. Put the pieces together and restore the entire Elf Crystal. However, guard yourself from the last guardian of the Sword of Promised Victory. In Oblivion awaits you the man who dresses himself in all the sins of mortals, bound in chain of madness. The hungry wolf caught in the trap that devours it own leg, the Uroboros that self-engendering. This is the end of my prediction, O King of the Knights, be your own interpreter.

Le Fey struck the ground with her staff and disappeared.

As everyone looked at them, Rin stood up:

- I have no appetite. Let's go!

Artoria cast a sad look at her plate, but nodded:

- Where are we going?

- At the castle library. The "tyrant" of which Le Fey has just spoken is one of the Masters of the Fourth Grail War brought back to life by Shiro's reckless wish.

They walked through the doors that the guards opened before them. In the banquet room, the conversations resumed into a formidable hubbub as everyone began to speak at the same time.
Shiro followed Rin still shocked by the words of Le Fey: "A throne of children's bones"... He squeezed his fists with anger. Perceiving the trouble of her lover, Artoria drew closer for him. She stared at him, and smiled softly:

- Shiro, I understand how you feel. However, you have no reason to feel guilty. You gave all the victims of the Grail War a chance to start their lives over Nirn. It was generous of you. Nevertheless...
Saber's beautiful face hardens:

-Nevertheless, this does not absolve you of your responsibility. If the tyrant Le Fey spoke of is here because of you, it is up to you to put an end to his actions.

The blacksmith with amber eyes shivered, understanding the implications of these words. He agreed, however:
- Believe me, I am well aware of that.

A little refreshed, he then turned to Tohsaka:

- Do you have any idea who we're looking for?

Rin sighed haughtily:

- Sure! You forget who you're talking to! I'm a genius! We're looking for Atrum Galliasta...
- Who?

- Caster's original Master!

Shiro and Artoria exchanged an interrogative look, then Saber spoke for them both:

- Not that I doubt the relevance of your reasoning, but how do you know?

Rin took a meditative look:

- Well, we met all but three (3) of the Masters. As head of the Tohsaka house, I...

She paused and grimaced:

- No, I had the duty to monitor who came into my domain. The Magi were required to report to me. Obviously, those who came as an enemy did not. With the approach of the Fourth Grail War, I therefore endeavored to locate the Magi who might be involved. Remember I found out that Kirei killed the Master of Lancer?

Her two friends acquiesced as they continued to walk in the halls. Rin passed in front of them and pushed a door leading to the huge library of the castle:

- During this research, I also located Atrum Galliasta. Except that he had already been killed and his home destroyed by fire. It was the work of another Master, at least that's what I thought then. Since Caster had already been killed by Gilgamesh, it didn't matter. So I didn't tell you about it.

Shiro had stopped to look at the thousands of books that were spreading in rows after rows to rush to the walls:

- And what are we looking for here?

Saber approached a shelving section to consider the labels explaining the classification:
- An armorial!

- A what?

Tohsaka looked up to the sky:

- A book drawing the coats of arms of aristocratic families, you moron. How did you manage to live all this time in a medieval world without learning that it's the equivalent of a phone book? We are looking for a tyrant, therefore a great lord. We should find information about Galliasta in a book like this.

The next morning, at dawn, Artoria and his companions left Daggerfall. They thus rode part of the morning in autumn rain following the roads that led them from village to village. After a lunch stop, they set off again through a thick forest.

The neighing of Rin's horse reverberated in the vegetable cathedral formed by the thousands of trunks that closed their branches above their heads. The Magus patted the neckline of her mount, inspecting the trees that tasted all around them. The brown-red soil, under its cover of dead leaves, was soaked to the point of being spongy. The rain had stopped before they entered the forest. However, the branches continued to shed their excess water.

- It's a good spot for mushrooms. Maybe we could stop and find some.

Rin Tohsaka turned to Shiro who had just spoken. The young man, with his hands crossed on the knob of his saddle, smiled at her and she gave him back mechanically before blushing, then turning her head:

- Only you think about cooking at a time like this.

Shiro laughs:

- A fresh mushroom fricassee is excellent. You need mushrooms, oil, herbs, parsley, and garlic. Once you rinse the mushrooms, you fry them in the pan, and then chop the herb mixture that you add...
The recipe was interrupted by a rumble similar to thunder. Rin and Shiro turned to the little blonde in armor of plates who rode in the tail of the column, pulling a pack horse. Despite a little red on the cheeks, Artoria pretended to have nothing to do with this phenomenon.

Her friends were not fooled. Rin gently mocked:

- Already hungry? We ate an hour ago!

- I can't help it, I have a rapid metabolism!

- The appetite of a dragon, yes, adds Shiro.

Artoria shot him with the same gaze that Caesar had given Brutus as he stabbed him, but looked away, doing the one that didn't stop to answering criticism.

- The food budget was to be raised in your home during the Grail War, Rin continued.

- She ate more than Fuji-nee- who already counted for two- you, Sakura and I... fortunately that Archer did not need to eat; otherwise I would have had to declare forfeit for lack of money to feed my Servant.

After a mad laugh of the two magi (and the wrinkled silence of Artoria), they looked at each other. Rin showed a little astonishment:

- You have changed, before you would have defended Saber instead of laughing with me. Would the pure, noble, straight and stupid Shiro have grown?

The blacksmith with amber eyes had a sad smile:

- I have lived another 17 years. Many things have happened to me... and not many pleasant things. I suppose the causticity of my humor is the result.

There was an awkward silence and Shiro coughed in his fist before changing the subject:

- Does anyone know what a Reikr is?

- A Reikr surprised Tosaka.

- Yes, yesterday Le Fey mentioned a Reikr, a blue-skinned wizard. It would have a crystal shard.
It was Artoria who replied:

- The Reikrs are goblinoids. They look like Orcs, with the same size, features and musculature. In fact, they are different from them only by their blue skin and their much more primitive civilization. We only meet them in the Wrothgar Mountains.

- Except that he would live in the Duchy of Verandia, remarked the Magus.

Saber nodded her head. The research in the library had taught them that Atrum Galliasta had become duke of Verandia after the simultaneous disappearance of his older brother, his wife and their three children.

Galliasta had an appalling reputation. His subjects were burdened with taxes and his seigneury was almost constantly at war with at least one of his neighbors. The people suffered all the more because the fate seemed to be taking hold of the duchy since Atrum Galliasta came to power. Poor harvests replaced epidemics and floods. The robbers ransomed the travelers; the woods were infested with goblins and monsters. One could not even count on ducal justice. Duke Atrum had surrounded himself with mysterious black knights who had replaced the soldiers of his predecessor. They were said to be worse than the bandits that they were supposed to fight and the trees were drowning under the weight of the hanged.

Rumor has it that Galliasta sacrificed children to a mysterious god of darkness.

Shiro opened the road, walking in the shade of the century-old trees that bordered the trail. Leaves swirled in the air. The thick carpet they left on the ground suffocated the horses' footsteps. In the distance, sounds the howling of a wolf. This was the only visible sign of life in the undergrowth. There were no birds, no squirrels, not a single animal. When the trio came out of the forest, the Beldana Mountains offered themselves in all their splendor. The highest peaks were already covered with snow, announcing an early and harsh winter. The ravished, crinkled, hilly landscape appeared amidst the mists that stagnated in the deepest valleys. A section of mountain, skinned by erosion, rose vertically at their side, sinking deep into the plain. Other spurs, almost similar, surrounded it. The horses chipped before sinking into the new path that opened up to them.
- Look at it!

Rin showed blue ribbons that one hand had attached to the branches.

- What does that mean?

Artoria and Shiro knew nothing about it but were a little worried. The second one concentrated to brought up Caliburn and tended the sword to Saber:

- You might need a magic blade.

In fact, the knight had returned the Runic Spear to his possessor's family and could no longer count on anything but ordinary weapons.

Along the marked-out path, Rin Tohsaka, Artoria Pendragon, and Shiro arrived at a meadow covered with dead leaves. The air smelled of acid perfume from conifers and moisture. In the middle of this clearing flowed a clear singing river spanned by a stone bridge. Magnificent silk lodges embroidered with gold had been erected on both banks. Their chamfered fabrics changed in color as the sun's play hid between the clouds.

While their valets and their squires were going, gallant knights were walking their ladies on their arms. At the end of long silk leashes or at their bird's glove, they displayed white greyhounds and noble raptors.

At the sight of their many banners that were pounding in the wind, Artoria turned to Shiro to deploy her. There was a surprising silence. The nobles of High-Rock raised their eyes to the unknown banner: a silver lion crawling with azure.

Armed in war, a knight mounted on a steed of white foam planted himself in the middle of the bridge, blocking the road of the riders. His great harnois (4) of quicksilver plates was shimmering like ice on a full moon night. He held in his fist a long lance of joust, the heel placed in his stirrup. A shield with the buckle decorated with many gems was passed at his neck. The only hiatus of this warrior painting, he proudly prance around, with his head bare, leaving his long blond sand hair cascading in braids and wicks free around his pale face. Artoria was surprised by the appearance of great nobility of the arrogant, only wasted by the muzzle of disdain that exceeded his fine features.
- Holà, gente dame! You arrive full of spirit and well accompanied! But what right do you have to carry at the head of your formation an unknown banner of the armorial of the nobles of High-Rock ?!
- I am Artoria Pendragon, Knight of the Order of the Rose of Menevia.

- I have never heard of a High-Rock nobleman named Artoria Pendragon! To me, you are usurping your title, your rank and your prerogatives!

The King of the Knights kept himself with all the mastery he had gained in a lifetime. However, she felt ashamed and insulted to be treated in such a way.

- A pas périlleux , murmured Saber.

Although she spoke for herself, Shiro heard it:

- A what is it?

Rin held him by the arm and waved his silence before pulling him aside to explain the situation:
- It is a trial. A knight blocks a passage and anyone who wants to borrow it must challenge him. But look closely, don't you recognize these noble people?

Indeed, many of the knights and ladies had taken part in the feast yesterday... and listened to the prophecy.
- Everything was arranged by our great friend King Gothryd, continued Rin.

- But why is that?

The Magus lifted her eyes to heaven:

- You investigating the death of King Lysandus next to a woman who was born on the day of his death and who must, I quote, "raise a crown fallen in the mud". Why you are surprised that the reigning sovereign takes umbrage?

- I am particularly surprised that he has let us leave Daggerfall.

- We were his hosts, therefore sacred. However, if we die on the way, it will just be bad luck.

While they were chatting, Artoria had continued to exchange with the knight who challenged her while the noble Bretons had grouped together so as not to lose anything from the clash.

- On this, noble stranger, have the decency to name you, since I have done so and the politeness requires that I be answered.

The knight bowed with a stiff movement of the chin.

- François Viralaine is my name and I am a knight of the Order of the Dragon.

Artoria Pendragon greeted her opposite, who replied only with disdain:

- Sir Knight, since I must accept to confront you with a courteous spear (5).

- Yes, this place has its own rules. You are on one side of this bridge and I am on the other. Now, I swore that if you wanted to cross it you would first have to compete with me in a joust "par amour" (6).

- What if I lose?

- You must pledge allegiance to King Gothryd.

Artoria turned her head to contemplate the other side and the Breton lords who came to witness her humiliation. After all what was she to them? A 15-year-old girl, in bad armor, facing one of the most brilliant knights of their order, mounted on a warhorse of great price and wearing a full quicksilver plate armor. François Viralaine's arrogance was easily understood.

- I see, Saber replied.

François Viralaine's squire pressed to his lord to bring him his helmet. It was a silver armet stuffed with a feather fixed in its upper part. Artoria, for her part, received a courteous spear without cutting edge. Each at one end of the bridge, the gallant knight crossed their faulcres (7) over the shoulder. Then they placed the heel of their spear in the hollow of the cup worn by the harness.
The two noblemen on horseback, with their raised kite shield, defied their spears before setting their mounts.
The contact was rough and the clearing resounded with a blast of hell when the spears struck the shields. The King of the Knights shield, adorned with a lion, saw its steel strapping jump while her lance burst into a thousand pieces. François barely vacillated, is shield and his haste just scratched.
Returning to her starting point, Artoria seized her second spear and returned to the field. The second assault was as violent as the first. Again, Saber saw his weapon shatter into wood chips, while the blunt end of her rival's spear struck her shield hard.

While lords and beautiful ladies applauded the engagement, the king of Britain regained her end of the bridge. Shiro was already waiting for her bringing the third spear. According to the terms of this kind of joust, it was the last. If this one breaks, it will her lose.

The weapon wedged in the cup of the faulcre and the elbow tight to her flank, Artoria raised her shield. At the other end of the bridge, her rival did the same. The king of Britain pushed her heels into the side of her mount. In response, the warhorse leaped like the wind, its hooves hammering the stones of the bridge.

In an instant, the two Bretons swallowed the entire span of the bridge and crossed. This time, the king of Brittany did not touch the shield of François Viralaine and alone cashed the strength of the charge. Thrown aside, she clung to the saddle and stopped at the end of the lice.

The two gallant knights began to steer their mounts again. However, the result was very different from previous assaults. The spear of the king of Brittany touched the shield of François without breaking and the shock tore the proud knight from the back of his mount to send him rolled in the dust.
Surprised by the crash, the steed of the King of Knights leapt with a neigh. Breathless, Artoria lowered her lance and flattened the neck of her mount to stop his race. She turned around to look at her rival lying on the ground, surrounded by her squire and caretakers.

There was a long moment of astonished silence. François Viralaine had dominated the whole fight and suddenly... the victory was returned to Artoria Pendragon who had turned the whole confrontation on one blow.

The Bretons lords suddenly burst out in praise. Once they had snatched her from her steed, they carried her triumphantly to the bridge while their beautiful friends applauded her. Driven to the end of the clearing, Artoria was laid before a very richly decorated tent.

It was a vast kiosk with silk cords and alabaster stakes crowned with golden falcons. Its sides and roof were made of beautiful gold cloth. In the interior, one could first discern a sumptuous bed stretched with arachnidan sheets and a blanket of ermine fur with the lining of green cloth fringed with gold droplets. At the bedside, there was a profusion of pillows and perfumed satin pillows. Around, carpets of camelot fabric hid the floor. On either side of the headboard were two beautiful seats covered with embroidered cushions. To complete this furniture, there was still a large precious candlestick that carried oil lamps and a wide table. It had been erected in the middle of the tent and covered with a very white tablecloth. Tableware of great price had been placed there: Silver cutters, ivory knives and gold plates.

Several valets approached Lady Artoria and rushed to help her remove her armor. She was then brought a silver aquashackle and a white towel so that she could wash her hands and face. Once the dust of the roads had left him, one of the valets opened a very beautiful chest to get some quality clothes.
- Madam, you can sleep in peace tonight, we will take care of everything. We will also take care of your crew and horses.

Two pages entered in turn to bring fragrant wines with pine cones, flavored liquors with iris roots. Behind them, two others still followed, their arms overflowing with large steaming dishes. There was nettle soup; fish in sauce; vegetables; boar legs with salt and juniper; bread with caraway grain; cheeses; honey cakes sprinkled with poppy seeds. When the king of Britain sat down at the table, they lit the golden candlesticks at the ends of the table and began the service.
It was good timing, Saber was hungry... but that was often the case!

(1) The cotardia (or "cotte-hardie" in French) is a woman's dress whose only opening is the collar. It is worn without a belt. It is recognizable by its long sleeves that drag to the ground. It is also called "Robe de beau maintien".

(2) This passage must seem strange to you. It is based on an exchange drawn from the Kuhwch and Olwen one of the branches of the Mabinogion, the oldest text of the Arthurian legend, in Welsh language. So the wording is very archaic.

(3) Two in fact, but in F/SN (the game), Rin never had the opportunity to learn that Assassin had Medea for Master.

(4) Full polished armor.

(5)Courteous weapons are weapons of jousting and tournament, they are blunt to avoid deadly blows.
(6) Jousting "par amour", it is a clash with blunt weapons. The goal is not to kill, but to win. The subjugated is, however, the hostage of the victor, he must redeem his freedom. The victor can also take his horse, his armor and his weapons.

(7) A harness supporting a cup where the heel of the knight's lance is lodged.