Note from the author: note that the events described in chapter 22 take place a little more than two months before those of chapter 21.

The King of Swords

Once again, Shiro Emiya dreamed...

He dreamed of the ash desert that covered part of the island of Vvardenfell, a desert of ashes in the shadow of the continent's greatest volcano... the Red Mountain. The night sky was lit by the two moons of Nirn, Masser, and Secunda whose rays filtered between large clouds of volcanic dust.
These nocturnal stars illuminated a barren, rough landscape, succession of red ash dunes and scarlet rock cliffs.

Yet this dreamlike landscape differed from the original. Never had the Asheland of Vvardenfell been covered with swords.

The amber-eyed blacksmith walked in a fantastic landscape. Around him, as far as the eye could see, swords were planted in the ground. In this lifeless landscape, they formed a sinister vision like so many crosses on graves.

Swords... they were of every kind, in every possible metal... Some were nothing more than roughly forged blades while others inlaid with gold and gems could have served as the coronation of emperors.
Many of these blades were not ordinary. It emanated from these blades a power that Shiro felt and understood because he had an intimate understanding of these weapons. In fact, he was walking in his personal armory, where the "blueprints" of the weapons he was Tracing were stored.

Without order and logic, weapons from the two worlds were intertwined. Katana, tanto, wakizashi, dai-katana, ninjato sighted in Japanese museums as well as weapons from Gilgamesh's Gate of Babylon represented his world of origin. But they mingled with Orc Orichalcum scimitar, graceful Aldmeri swords in an elven alloy, short Cyrodilian steel swords, Nords Stalhrim (a kind of enchanted ice that never melt) brands, chitin or ostalium swords forged by the Dunmers, dwarf dwemer alloy halberds, swords covered with dewclaws made of daedric by the Daedras of Oblivion, glass and ebonite weapons, mithril and adamantine, or dragon's bones and teeth. They represented the pinnacle of the art of forging for civilizations dominating Tamriel, on the world of Nirn.

As Shiro walked among them, he stopped with a grimace of pain.

A violent migraine had just awakened, clamping his head in a vise. The landscape around him became clouded, like the screen of a deregulated ancient cathodic television, the colors became faint and the image distorted, hacked with parasites.

In the wind that lifted up the red ashes vomited by the volcano. Shiro heard a voice similar to his own:

I'm the bone of my sword

Steel is my body and fire is my blood

I have... ted... over... and blades

From... world

To... ther

Shiro fell to his knees, tortured by pain and a strong urge to vomit. The memory of his last sojourn in this desert of sword returned to his memory... blades had come out of his body, penetrating him from side to side.

However, it was not meant to end that way at that time.

- Enough!

Before his lowered eyes appeared at the bottom of a white mage's gown and black shoes. A dark wooden staff struck the ground twice and a magic circle formed, surrounding Shiro. Immediately the pain left him, however, he remained panting.

After what seemed to him for several minutes, the blacksmith with amber eyes was able to stand up and looked for his savior. He had sat on a rock and watched with interest, a heavy Z-shaped staff between his arms. He recognized him without difficulty, it was not their first meeting...

- Merlin!

The young face, the hair all undone, white with rainbow reflections, the Wizard of the Fowers had a half-smile full of irony:

- I see that you have not forgotten me... and that you have learned my real name.

He touched his forehead in the cliché posture of a medium having a vision:

- I see... I see... you met a beautiful girl with golden hair and green eyes (but a little too flat for my taste).
Merlin's hands drew into the air a voluptuous female figure, leaving very little to the imagination as to his tastes in the matter.

- And yes... I am a prophet... except that I didn't need this to know that you were going to meet Artoria. It was your destiny, Shiro Emiya... the destiny you forged by asking the Grail of Fuyuki to bring you together. The fragment of the Corvus Crystal I gave you was useful... as I had predicted. And you helped bring Artoria and Excalibur together. Well... very well indeed.

- Where... where are we?

Merlin looked at Shiro for a few moments with an expression of disbelief. Then the magician shook his head:

- So you didn't even realize that? We are in your soul...

Recovering, King Arthur's advisor swept the landscape around them with one hand:

- What surrounds us is a Reality Marble, the expression of what is inside you... You don't think there are no consequences to say: "I'm the bone of my sword. Steel is my body and fire is my blood"? An incantation of this type has a bit too... literal effect.

He stretched a finger towards the blades:

- Look there... Your flesh.

Then towards the flames crowning the Red Mountain:

- And here... your blood.

The magician's mocking and amused expression were replaced by anger, pity, and worry:

- Shiro Emiya, look around! This is what you did to yourself! At least Jesus was content with bread and wine, harmless... fire and steel, here is your Eucharist, Shiro Emiya.

The adolescent's knowledge of magecraft was nothing extraordinary. At best, we could call him "third rate Magus "... as Rin often did, by the way.

Nevertheless, Shiro knew the theory of Reality Marble. A powerful enough Magus could materialize and project around him its "inner universe" according to the thaumaturgic theory of the Egg-World. Except that this kind of Bounded Field could only be created by very powerful beings, such as the Death Apostole Ancestors, because it required a phenomenal amount of mana.

- Uh... Merlin, if this is my inner universe how did you get here?

The magician began to laugh:

- My father, Morwin, was an incubus. I received from him the innate ability to enter dreams. But let's talk about how you create this universe. Come, follow me!

Showing the way, Merlin undertook to climb a hill. Looking up Shiro discovered that its top had a very different look than anything else around it. Swords were more abundant there than in the desert... nevertheless, the blades were planted in spring grass, sown with flowers where multicolored butterflies were foraging.

Golden light illuminated the place; it came from Excalibur placed on an altar at the foot of a statue of Saber. The place had changed a lot since his last visit. The desolation of his inner universe seemed to have receded... since he had regained the love of his life.

- Excalibur? Does Excalibur create Reality Marble?

Merlin turned around to cross the questioning look of the young Magus:

- No... not exactly, Avalon!

- Avalon? The sheath?

- Do you see the island of the same name somewhere in this desert? No? Well... what is Avalon?
Shiro frowned at the magician:

- Excalibur sheath?

Merlin looked up at the sky with the expression of an exasperated teacher facing a slooooow pupil and said:

- The sheath that your adoptive father, Kiritsugu Emiya, placed in you... empty.

The way Merlin insisted on the last word must have given it a special meaning... but which one? Shiro scratched his neck, thoughtful but without understanding what the magician meant. The latter sighed and began to speak, articulating clearly, detaching every word, as if speaking to a six-year-old child:
- Kiritsugu has placed within you the empty sheath of Excalibur... a sword-shaped Last Phantasm... an imprint of this weapon... like a mold.

- A mold...

Shiro looked around him, thousands of swords, to the horizon.

-A mold of a sword...

- Yes, you have just understood! Avalon is the mold of all these replica swords.

Merlin did not add "finally", but the sarcastic tone left no doubt that he thought so.

- The devastation of the end of the Fourth Grail War had literally left your soul naked, washed of all personality, a blank page that just needed to be rewritten. By placing within you what is literally the mold of a very powerful Noble Phantasm, Kiritsugu let it mark you, changing the way your soul worked. Then he taught you a simple form of magecraft, the Projection. It was exactly what you needed to express that "sword mold" ability that settled in your soul.

- Wait, I returned the original Avalon to Artoria. This is just an imperfect copy...

Merlin cut it out:

- Of course, most of the copies drawn around us are imperfect. For example, this copy of Excalibur is only rank B+ and yet you would be unable to use it. But, this is not the case of Avalon. You've had the original in you for years... it's part of you. It would be more accurate to say, as Artoria does, that you are her sheath. Avalon rewrote the blank page "Shiro Emiya" by inscribing the values defended by its rightful owner: chivalry, protection of the weak, devotion to the widow and the orphan. Avalon is the core of your soul, Shiro.

Leaning on his magical staff, Merlin no longer showed the slightest irony. Again his expression reflected worry and... pity:

- On Earth, these abilities would have earned you a Sealing Designation from the Clocktower. But here things are even more serious...

- What do you mean?

- Shiro Emiya, on Earth, a Reality Marble would collapse within minutes, eroded by the combined power of Alaya and Gaia. The first denies men that they master such power because it makes them more than men, which would be antinomic of its function as the sum of all human spirits. As for Gaia, she refuses the violation of the laws of nature represented by a Reality Marble.

Merlin waved his staff:

- But we are on Nirn and other powers are at work. There is nothing like Gaia and Alaya in this world. The first is replaced by the "Bones of the Earth" or "Ehlnofeys". They are gods incarnate on Nirn and degenerated, having lost their divine attributes. They died a long time ago... yet they still exist in the form of a collective consciousness that anchors the reality of Nirn. They represent destiny. In the future, Emperor Uriel Septim VII will leave the Imperial City through the prisons, to flee from the assassins... in the cell where the secret passage opens, he will meet a prisoner. The latter has for destiny to save Nirn from the invasion of Oblivion... his presence in this cell will be a "chance" woven by the Ehlnofeys to launch him in his task (1).

Thinly, Merlin looked at the moons in the sky of Shiro's Reality Marble:

- The other power is the Aedra, the Nine Gods of the Imperial Pantheon, who are partly Alaya and partly Gaia. They have a singular limitation. These gods can only act through mortals. Thus, to protect Nirn from the Daedras of Oblivion all their power rests on one individual... the emperor.

- The Emperor?

Merlin smiles at Shiro's surprise:

- Young man, in this second life you were born into an imperial family. So you know what the Amulet of Kings is.

Shiro acquiesced; he had to undergo the imperial catechism during his childhood:

- It is a very ancient amulet. It is said that Saint Alessia herself received it from the gods, it is said that it is a relic of great power... If I remember correctly, Akatosh, the king of the gods would have created it by taking "blood from his noble heart".

- Right, and you know that the Emperor is a Dragonborn?

Shiro wondered what the connection was between the emperor and him... He remembered that one of the Blades -the bodyguards of Akaviri origin of Uriel Septim VII- had once told him that the emperor took from his dragon blood strange gifts... and Uriel Septim VII must have probably seen something in him; otherwise he would not have given him the best possible magical and warrior education. The redhead blacksmith agreed:

- Yes, he descended from Tiber Septim, founder of the Tamriel Empire... who became a god after his death under the name of Talos.

- Yes, absolutely... and Talos did not have the blood of an ordinary dragon, he had the Blood of the Dragon... of Akatosh, the dragon god. When a new emperor is sacred, he is led to the temple of the One, in the Imperial City, where he must use the Amulet of Kings to light the Dragon Fires. The rite is no longer understood nowadays... except by the emperor. For the common people, it serves only to prove that the Emperor has indeed the Blood of the Dragon which allows him to use the Amulet of Saint Alessia. Except it's more than that, the Dragon Fires are the key to the barrier that separates Nirn from the Outer Realms. Shiro, do you know what the Outer Realms are?

- Uh... the Daedra residence?

Merlin applauds with irony:

- Bravo, my young pupil! Nirn's cosmogony tells us that this world was created by the Aedras (literally "those who are our Ancestors", in Aldmer). These gods sacrificed their independence to incarnate. They are literally the world of Nirn. Akatosh being the sun, Mara, Dibella, Stendarr, etc... are gods but also planets of this star system. By embodying themselves, they have reduced their powers to allow the planetary system to exist. Only, not all the gods accepted this limitation of their powers. Those who refused to participate in the creation of the world of Nirn became the Daedra ("those who are not our ancestors"). Not all Daedras are monsters. I am thinking in particular of Meridia, the goddess of light and life. However, others such as Molag Bal, lord of rape; Mehrunes Dagon, the Prince of Destruction or Vil Clavidus only wish to cause suffering to mortals. The barrier raised by the Aedras prevents these demons from spreading over Nirn. To come back to my question, the Outer Realms, or Plans of Oblivion, are the lands created by the Daedra they are the materialization of their thought...

Shiro startled and Merlin had a malicious smile at this reaction:

- Yes, you can see where this is going. It's not what's called a Marble Phantasm... No, Nirn is a gigantic Marble Phantasm (2) created by the gods by sacrificing some of their powers and especially their autonomy. Nirn is stable. The Outer Planes are Reality Marble raised in the Original Chaos extending beyond this planetary system. They are constantly eroded by Chaos and only the presence of a Sigil Stone, a powerful morpholit, allows anchoring these planes and protects them from erosion. If these Sigil Stones are removed from their supports, any traveler in the Plans of Oblivion is sent back to Nirn, as in after the collapse of any Reality Marble.

- But then...

Shiro hesitated and Merlin nodded:

- Your Reality Marble cannot materialize in Nirn because of the barrier raised by the Dragon Fires.

- Oh, I see... I can't call my Reality Marble on Nirn.

The little reaction of the red hair teenager in front of this revelations stunned Merlin:

- You have understood nothing of what I have tried to tell you... Nirn is a world where mortals can become gods. Arkay, god of the dead, or Talos were mortals until they performed actions that caused their Ascension! And, as I explained to you, a Reality Marble is an Outer Kingdom. To create an Outer Kingdom is to claim a place among the Daedric Princes, O prince daedra Shiro Emiya master of the Infinite Forge! You are experiencing an Ascension that leads you to divinity! This means that you position yourself as a rival to the other Daedra princes. Most of them solve this by war and murder! They will never let you complete the creation of your Reality Marble. You've painted yourself a target on your back with, in big letters: "Please kill me!"

Shiro awoke and his eyes opened to fix the tent cloth above him. His heart was beating too fast. He swallowed, fighting the urge to vomit. A violent migraine surrounded his temples and a ghost voice whispered in his ears:

I ha... creat... over... blades
...a world
... other

He tried to straighten himself and his effort was interrupted by a grunt. Two white arms strengthened their grip around his shoulders:

- Shiro?

The young man turned to look at Saber's beautiful face. She had not yet opened her eyes. He had a tender smile:

- All is well, keep sleeping.

Slowly, he tried to get rid of the embrace of his beloved but... other arms held him. He turned to the other side of the bed... to discover... Rin?

What... what happened yesterday?

For a moment his brain freezes too stunned to comprehend then... he remembered... ah... yes... You could do a lot in a threesome and they've done a lot of experiments. No wonder he felt so tired.

The year 3E 418 was in its final weeks. The month of Morningstar (December) had just begun.

Usually merciful, around the Illiac Bay, winter had fallen on the Duchy of Phrygios with the force of a blacksmith's hammer. The temperatures were freezing, the slightest stream was frozen, and the snow-white trees were wearing ice pendants carved by a polar like winds.

This did not settle the affairs of the immense army which had gathered on the outskirts of the city of Dwynmen. Nearly 25,000 men were already camping on the spot and others were still coming: Daenia's Knights of the Dragon, Cambrian Halberd, Verandia Levees, Shornhelm militiamen, Boralis Freearchers, Phrygios Coustilliers, mercenaries.

They mingled in a camp that looked like a city, with its streets and squares, its temples, its supplies in all things.

Life was so well organized that there were Jeu de Paume (3) rooms, cabarets, and taverns, in fact, all that was necessary for the life of a troupe of this importance. One could even buy cloth or medicinal spices... Not to mention, of course, the prostitutes and the gambling houses so appreciated by the soldiers, whatever the world and the time.

The camp, of course, was fortified. Ditches and palisades lined with towers surrounded it on all sides, guarded by soldiers in chain mail and iron helmet, carrying halberds or crossbows.

In the center, isolated by its own palisade were elegant pavilions attributed to the nobles leading the vast expedition. Its purpose? Lifting the siege of Wayrest. However, it was nothing simple, especially in this season.

Dunore Grensley, Earl of Aldcroft, belonged to the aristocracy of Cambria. His family tree dates back to the Direnni Hegemony and the exploits of his ancestors at the Battle of Glenumbria. He led the coalition army because he was the nobleman of the highest rank to participate.

The man, a classic Breton, small, thin, with brown hair and blue eyes stared at the map of the Kingdom of Alcaire (also called the Kingdom of Islands).

His finger went to the port city of Koeglin:

- Four months ago, the Orsinium army launched its first attacks on the Kingdom of the Islands. Luckily, Mordane Hawkstone, Baron of Koeglin, reacted with firmness, recruiting mercenaries, training a militia, surrounding his city with a rampart of wood and soil. For two months, his city has been effectively besieged by a strong goblin party. Another army - of orcs this time- is further west... probably fortifying the river Issen.

The Count of Merta struck the table with his hand:

- Our problem is that my scouts claim that goblins are focusing on the capture of Koeglin. Not only would the loss of this one be tragic by itself, but it could then be held against us. We would be forced to retake it or risk seeing our communications cut off... depriving us of any supply.

His gaze turned to Saber, the latter directed the contingent of Verandia, with Estienne de Vignonne as a lieutenant.

- Lady Pendragon, I would like you to take your troops on the ships I have arranged for in the port of Dwynmen. You will strengthen Baron Mordane's garrison.

Artoria remained for a few moments to fix the map and especially the Illiac Bay:
- With all due respect, my lord, can we count on an escort of warships? I want to remind you that the enemy has a fleet of ghosts ships and Redguard privateers. It would be unwise to risk us in hostile waters without any escort.

Dunore Grensley, Earl of Aldcroft, grimaced...

- King Gothryd refuses to send his war fleet away from Daggerfall, probably fearing an attack. Nevertheless, enemy ships are occupied by the imperial fleet of Admiral Marcus Manfredi. You should pass without being noticed.

After the Battle of the Roc Noir, Admiral Marcus Manfredi was acclaimed by the crew of his ships. It only lasted for a while. The flight in front of the ghost ships had undermined that trust. Fate had also plagued them. Threatened by a storm, the ships had tried to anchor themselves. The only favorable place had been a small beach. A too-small beach, many ships suffered serious damage.
Afterward, morale was even more affected. In the holds and in the enterprises, the storm had been lived as a sign of the wrath of the daedras, or of this new deity, that "Angra Mainyu" which was said to be the supreme spirit of evil.

Had he had time, Manfredi would have ordered a halt to repair what could be repaired. But thanks to the hidden lookouts along the coast, the admiral was aware that the enemy was on his heels. To add insult to injury, the strong winds that had damaged his fleet had turned out to be a localized phenomenon. Behind the horizon, the ghost ships felt nothing of it.

Pressed by time, Manfredi embarked the crews of the most affected galleys and scuttled them. However, this proved insufficient. As the armada finally entered the bay of Balfiera, the enemy fleet arrived in sight of the lookouts. His behavior turned out to be strange and erratic. Instead of rushing forward and seeking engagement, the ghost ships moved forward timidly.

Marcus Manfredi feared a new trap, and in fact, the route of the Imperial brought them to a delicate navigation region. The coast had a shredded appearance. Sandbanks adjoined with coastal arrows and tombolos. Further on, a large rocky island almost enclosed the steep point of a natural arch. In his approach window, the admiral could see the islets and needles surrounded by foam along the pass.
The heart of the Imperial began to beat louder. In the irresolution of the enemy, he saw an opportunity to strike. His formation changed course and he abandoned the idea of circumventing the island to engage between it and the coast.

Against a faster opponent, we can no longer run. But we can fight, and where to do it with more chance of success than in this narrow channel? More numerous, enemy ships could not sail there properly.
Thanks to the precise maps that the Direnni had offered them, the imperial galleys followed favorable currents and crossed the strait without mishap. For his part, the Great Necromancer at the head of the ghost fleet had reacted more quickly than his hesitations might have led him to believe. He split his armada in two. The wrecks with the crew of the undead who formed the bulk of his forces took a position facing the channel, while the light naves of the Dragonstar privateers bypassed the island all sails out.

If the movement was predictable, the Necromancer had done it masterfully. While the first imperial ships were going out into the open sea, the Redguards galleys were already gathering for the kill.
Playing smart, Marco Manfredi had just lost. The necromancer's «hesitation» proved to be a clever feint. Without losing his mind to swearing the Cyrodiliic admiral quickly improvised a parade. The situation was not desperate. The goal of the Redguard privateers was probably to close the channel before they came out. However, there were still a few minutes before their ships were on them. Relaying his orders by optical telegraph, Admiral Manfredi quickly gathered his boats in a loose line. This formation left wide gaps through which the enemy could infiltrate. Nevertheless, it also forced it to spread its formation. That way he couldn't get around the wing.

For nearly an hour, the fleets maneuvered by strengthening their devices. Finally, the mangoners and the ballistae began to fire. Sheaves of water surrounded the galleys of both camps launched with all the force of their oars. From maneuvering, the battle turned into a fierce body. The powerful galleass of the Tamriel Empire supported the enemy's offensive.

The battle quickly became furious. Everywhere, ships were sinking or collided. As many as three or four boats could cluster together. Strange islands of violence were born in the midst of the burning wrecks. Little by little, the presence of the heavy imperial naves tipped the commitment in their favor.
But they were fighting somewhere else.

The situation in the strait was completely different. The ghost ships in pursuit of the Imperials caught up with the fleeing galleys and sank them one by one.

Finally out into the open water, the ships with crews of skeletons, ghosts and zombies attacked the imperial fleet. The galleass, taken in reverse, could counter-attack only in isolation. These floating fortresses may have been clad with steel plates that protected them perfectly, only their crews remained vulnerable. Methodically, the undead shot the mats with catapult balls. Then the lichs used their most destructive spells to reap everything that stood on the bridges. Stunned by these shots, the galleys were finished with incendiary projectiles.

Wounded from the beginning of the battle by an arrow lodged in his shoulder, Marcus Manfredi saw the sails of his ship ignite. On the brink of fainting, he did not even react when two officers pulled him to the gangway. A quick galley had landed. After boarding him, his men took him to the ship's doctor.
As the nave receded, through its windows the admiral saw a spectacle that broke his heart.

Apart from a few distant and leaking ships like his, his fleet was nothing but burning wrecks. The defeat was bitter. If the enemy had surpassed him by the number, it was far more painful for him to admit that he had also done so by tactics.

The sea was scarlet, red from the flames of the fire.

As the doctor tore his shirt to operate, tears of shame ran down his cheeks. His fleet was no more and he had now to warn the Emperor.

From the quays of the town of Koeglin, the main port of Alcaire, one could witness a show of great beauty. The winter sun lit a multitude of burning torches on the Illiac Bay, as a flight of phoenix landed on the waters...

The truth, alas, had nothing so poetic. They were burning ships!

The merchant ships commandeered by the Count of Aldcroft were burning, under the flaming arrows drawn by the galleys of the privateers of Dragonstar. Verandia's soldiers carried by the merchant ships could do nothing but jump into the icy water to escape the flames and cling to the wrecks.

Those who survived the cold bite of the water drifted to the coast, often far from Koeglin. They were not saved. Contingents of orcs in heavy armor and goblins wolf-riders patrolled the shore in search of survivors.
Only a handful of ships escaped this terrible fate by following Dame Marine, a heavy belly carrack. All the privateers who approached this ship experienced the same fate:

- Strike Air!

In the bow of the ship, Saber was handling The Sword of the Wind King, the compressed air sheath surrounding Excalibur. Released in the form of a cone of swirling air, the Barrier of the Wind King struck any galley approaching, tearing up its sails, and lifting seas that broke its borders. Reduced to wreck, it then crashed into the waves.

Soon there was no one to risk himself near this carrack. Dragging behind her the last survivors of the reinforcement fleet, she reached the docks of Koeglin.

It was there that Artoria Pendragon, Rin Tohsaka, Shiro Emiya, Estienne de Vignonne, and Gonderic de Bel Amant touched earth in the company of a hundred soldiers. They were expected to:

- Ah, Your Majesty, I was beginning to wonder whether I had the wrong day.

Saber blinked her eyes... for once out of words:

- Merlin?

With his fingers gathered in V, he took a pose that would already be ridiculous in a Japanese high school girl imitating an "idol" of jap pop.

- The most charming of the bishonen is there to make everything right.

(1) Events at the beginning of TES IV: Oblivion.

(2) To simplify, a Marble Phantasm is like a Reality Marble except that it does not violate the order of nature, so it is not eroded by Gaia.

(3) The ancestor of tennis.

Note from the author: The naval battle of the island of Balfiera is freely inspired by one of the most famous battles of antiquity. I want to talk about Salamis. The fleet of the Tamriel Empire plays the role of the Persians. Necromancers and Dragonstar privateers playing the Greeks.

Ah and I have stopped the verses of the spell of invocation of the Unlimited Blade Work (version Fate/ Dragoncrown):

I'm the bone of my sword

Steel is my body and fire is my blood

I have created over a thousand blades

From a world

To another

Withstood pain to create weapons, for the sake of one

I have no regrets. This is the only path.

For her, my whole life is Unlimited Blade Works.

You will unfortunately still have a long time to wait before Shiro can use his Noble Phantasm. Ah, the "her" of course refers to Artoria Pendragon. "For the sake of one"... Shiro is a bit monomaniac. Whether it is about saving a woman (Saber, Sakura) or becoming a Hero of Justice, he is ready to sacrifice himself without regret... but it is Shiro...