- Chapter 4: Sword -
Arturia Pendragon stood shrouded in darkness, her hands firmly wrapped around the hilt of her sword. Silence surrounded her form, the stale cavern air akin to spun glass in its fragile stillness.
The daemon thought her to be a pawn, just another piece to be manipulated on his little chessboard. She bit back a laugh. If only... If only.
Time had lost all meaning, day and night destroyed the moment she was freed from her shackles. How long had it been since… She snarled inwardly, it didn't really matter now, did it?
Sounds of footsteps, some quiet and some not.
Her eyes snap open. "So. You've come."
A girl with hair the color of fire - the Master - gulps slightly, though she still manages to speak. "Yeah! We're here to kick ass and take names! And... and we're all outta names!"
Bravado or courage... Did it really matter? Every fool died the same. "Hmm, is that so?"
The irritant of a Caster speaks next, amusement clear in his voice. "Dunno about the wording, but the little lady's right. Against all of us? You're dead as shit, Bitch King."
...She would enjoy separating his tongue from his body. "Bold words from the coward who turned tail when I came for him."
The Caster lets out a sharp bark of laughter. "Under normal circumstances, I'd agree with ya a hundred percent. But with whatever the fuck's going on with this Grail War? Fixing it… fixing it's more important than my pride and my wish."
She lifts an eyebrow. Begrudgingly, she did somewhat understand. Sacrifice was something she was well acquainted with, in all its worthless glory. That the barbarian could understand such a thing, to call her surprised would be selling it short.
But in the end, nothing really changed from this revelation. He would die either way.
Her sword is gently pulled from the earth and brought to rest loosely by her side, even while her gaze drifts to look upon the next two members of this merry band.
The white-haired magus posed little threat, despite the commendably bold glare she was leveling. She could be dealt with last. Now, the pink-haired Servant on the other hand...
Her eyes widen imperceptibly, as she takes in the shield. How interesting. "That shield, it has already failed once, for people far greater than one such as you. Do you really think a scared little girl can do better than the heroes of old?"
The strange Servant flinches in surprise, a mix of fear and confusion written across her face. "W-what?"
Arturia frowns slightly.
The air chills and the earth trembles, as she lets a fraction of her power seep out. The Servants shift uncomfortably, and the humans outright convulse, as the feeling of something very large and very scary begins to breath down their necks.
She'd little time for oblivious fools, not after having to deal with one for most of her summoning. "Answer me, strange girl. Do not pretend to misunderstand what I ask of you."
The pink-haired Servant flounders for words, looking as if she wanted to be anywhere but here. Hah. How utterly pathetic. To think one of her chosen knights would lend his arms to a weakling like her.
Arturia sneers. "If an answer you do not have, then worthy you are not."
…
…
...
And so was left the final intruder, who had been burning a hole into the side of her head with his gaze this entire time. She turns to stare unflinchingly into eyes of gold, so familiar yet so different at the same time.
Not a trace of emotion was visible on his features, though the clenched fists and white knuckles made that point moot. Voice soft and strained, he finally speaks. "Hey, Saber."
Her jaw tightens ever-so-slightly. "Shirou." she acknowledges, just a touch too calm. "I take it you are the cause for Archer's demise."
"He wa-"
She sneers slightly. "I don't care, not about him nor about you. The circumstances of your infuriating existence do not matter, only the fact that you will soon have died by my blade twice."
Shirou's only reaction is to smile sadly. "I forgive you, Saber."
Her eyes widen for a moment, before quickly narrowing to near slits. Teeth are drawn into a wordless snarl. She would enjoy this.
The wooden sword rose and fell in a peerless display, weaving through his defenses as if they didn't exist. By the time his brain caught up to his body, he was lying on his back, wondering what the hell just happened.
The edge comes to rest lightly on his jugular.
He swallows nervously, feeling the cold wood move along his bare skin as a result. "I forfeit."
Instantly the blade is removed, coming to rest by his opponent's side. The blonde knight favors him with a beautiful half-smile, somehow looking none the worse for wear, completely at odds with his tired and sweaty self. "You did well."
He frowns. "I didn't hit you once."
"Master," she chides gently. "I've trained in swordsmanship for decades, you have not. You've been getting better, you just cannot see it."
"I-"
"Master." she immediately cuts him off. "Trust me."
He lays there in the silence. Eventually, he nods. "Okay."
A hand is brought in front of his face, which he eventually reaches up to grasp. The dainty-looking swordswoman pulls him up without the slightest bit of effort, after which she raises an eyebrow. "Do you wish to go again?"
He glances up at the clock in the corner of the room, wincing at the time. "Fuji-nee will be coming soon, I gotta start cooking dinner."
...He can't help but chuckle at the way her eyes instantly light up, so warm and full of life, a sharp contrast to her normal stoic mask. She quietly coughs, already making her way towards the door. "Ah. Well, if we absolutely must."
The quiet chuckle turns into a warm laugh.
Pain. Pain and hate and misery and rage.
Excalibur Morgan screamed all these things, a symphony of eternal torment etched into its blackened steel. It dripped malevolence and anguish in equal measure, the King of Tyrants' bitter tale laid bare for Shirou to see.
A broken dream led to an undeniable truth led to a tyrannical monster. For to be a king was to be hated, to bear the curses of the kingdom and its people, to be the cruel and vicious demon, shouldering the burden so no one else had to. If a monster one had to become, to uphold laughable ideals, to protect a thankless nation, to be a great king, then so be it.
Shirou couldn't breath, he felt sick. Even when he'd fought Gilgamesh, he had never felt so helpless, so lost as to what he should do.
His Saber had been crushed under the weight of her ideals, that much was true. But the Arturia Pendragon before him? She… she had been broken.
The familiar weight of Kanshou and Bakuya are something of a comfort, even as they clash against the twisted Excalibur. He can't help but grimace at the sheer strength of the blow, nearly shattering his traced blades and sending shockwaves ripping through his form. She really was Saber, all right.
Mash comes out of nowhere, her shield cutting an arc straight towards Arturia's torso. The blow is easily dodged, Excalibur Morgan then coming to almost remove the Shielder's head from her shoulders.
The girl squeaks in surprise as a part of her bangs are cleanly cut off, nearly taking an eye as well. She instinctively leaps backwards and out of sight. Cu comes to fill the void, numerous fireballs blasting harmlessly off of Arturia's blackened plate.
Shirou was reasonably confident in his swordsmanship, having perfected it after years upon years of trial and error. Yet, it still paled in comparison to Arturia, who was keeping both he and Cu at bay simultaneously.
Dodge, parry, jump, pivot. His mind felt like in was submerged in molasses, guilt and sorrow weighing down his soul. She was his enemy, she wanted to kill him. And yet...!
He mistimes the dodge of an upward slash, Excalibur Morgan drawing a thin line of blood from his arm. This was no time to lose concentration.
Excalibur Morgan slices Cu's oaken staff in two, a blackened boot launching the Caster into one of the cavern's walls with a sickening crunch.
There! A perfect chance to get a hit in! Kanshou rears back, ready to carve a groove through blackened plate.
She turns back towards him. The memory of a beautiful smile, standing upon a grassy hill, fills his vision. He... hesitates. Only for the briefest of moments, but it is still enough. She is able to easily block, and the battle rages on.
Beads of sweat form on his forehead. He dodges half-a-dozen fatal blows, only for his eyes to widen as the latest one comes down upon him. It was too close. He wouldn't be able to react in time.
Thankfully, Mash rejoins the fight, coming just in time to tank the blow that would have cleaved him in half. Nevertheless, that was way too close. How much longer could they keep this up? The plan didn't count on everyone dying, so Cu had bette-
Suddenly comes the faint smell of earthen wood, as if they were somehow standing in the midst of a dense forest. "All-father, the sacred eighteen I invoke!" a voice shouts.
A gigantic glowing rune appears in the darkness high above, slowly followed by a second one a ways to its left. Snarling in anger, Arturia immediately attempts to disengage. He refuses to let her.
One after another, more and more runes appear, slowly encircling the area that they were fighting in. The weight of the spell was almost palpable, something ancient seeming to stir from a well deserved rest. "Cleanse my foes, leave nothing left!"
"Great God Carved Seal!" Cu roars. "OCHD DEUG ODIN!"
All eighteen runes pulse once. Twice. Magic thunders, the world shakes.
It takes everything for her not to knock her idiot of a Master upside the head. But where her fists proved unacceptable, her tongue would be enough. "I did not think you such a fool, Master! Rushing in like that, what were you thinking?!"
Her Master glares back at her, refusing to give an inch. "You were going to die! I couldn't leave you to fight alone, could I?!
"You could have, and even should have." she all but spits out, purposefully pressing the bandage a bit harder than necessary. A small hint of malicious joy filters into her mind at the sight of his wince. "I am a Saber, a sword. My life is meaningless in the face of my Master's, what worth does a simple tool have compared to a living being?"
Somehow, this just makes him more mad. "Well then that's stupid! I'm… I'm not just going to watch while you fight my battles for me! You're as alive as I am! You're just as important as anybody else!"
The final bandage is applied. Her eyes narrow as her lips twitch further downwards. "I see that continuing this conversation will only prove futile. I shall take my leave."
"This isn't over," he warns.
"I believe it is, Master." she says over her shoulder.
She is near out the doorway, when a quiet "Saber" reaches her ears.
She doesn't know why, but she pauses, though unwilling to look back. "...Yes, Master?"
"I… I'm not going to apologize for what I did. It wasn't wrong, I refuse to think that it was." He pauses for a brief heartbeat, voice growing quieter and softer. "But I'm willing to say sorry for just about everything else. I… You deserve a better Master than me, I know that much. I mean... Tohsaka and you would've won this war already."
She sighs quietly. "Perhaps, but fate did not make it that way. And though what you did was the height of stupidity… the line between bravery and idiocy is a fine one indeed. Do not think me ungrateful, I am... glad to be your Servant, Master."
"Shirou."
"Hmm?"
"Call me Shirou, and I'll… I'll try to at least listen to your advice from here on out. I... I promise."
"Very well… Shirou."
Mash slowly blinks the spots out of her vision, praying for the ringing in her ears to stop soon. Though Mr. Chulainn's noble phantasm didn't hurt directly injure those he designated as allies, the point blank light-show and resulting shockwave still left her with one doozy of a headache.
There was a breeze… she frowns slightly. Maybe she was misremembering, but weren't they in a cave? She idly glances upwards, only to let out an involuntary gasp.
Where once was a cavern ceiling, was now but open sky. The mountaintop… it was gone.
"H-hey Mash? You good?" comes her senpai's voice.
Still sitting on her butt, she turns to the source of the noise, to where her senpai stood upon a bunch of rubble. Her eyebrows raise to the max. Was… was that the Director limp on her senpai's back? Huh?
"S-senpai…? W-what?"
Seeing her confusion, her senpai immediately gives a reassuring grin. "O-oh, don't worry! Olga's not dead or anything… I-I think." The smile fades slightly, before returning with full force. "I'm pretty sure she just got brained by a falling rock! Definitely!"
"Okay…" She decides to just give her the benefit of the doubt. "Where are Mr. Emiya and Mr. Chulainn?"
Her senpai frowns at that. "I… don't kn-"
A soot-stained hand raises into the air some distance away. "P-present." Mr. Emiya coughs out, lying flat on his back in the midst of a bunch of rubble.
"Ha! Take that you bitch!" comes Mr. Chullain's voice, echoing out of a him-shaped hole in the wall. "I told you I was gonna kick your ass!"
Though wincing at the crass language, she still can't help but be relieved. Everyone had survived.
She lets out a tired cough, glancing all around, looking and failing to see any more signs of life. "Is… is she dead?"
"I-I think so..." Her senpai slowly says. "B-but like woah. You guys fought her three versus one for like thirty seconds and still nearly died."
Mr. Emiya begins to say something, only to snap his jaw shut. Her senpai suddenly pales, and nearly drops the Director.
Oh no. Oh nonononono.
She doesn't dare to even breath. The blood in her veins feels like ice, as she slowly works up her courage. Eventually, she jerkily makes to look over her shoulder.
Heavy black armor is half melted and steaming under the cool night air, with some parts missing entirely. Blood trickles down in rivulets all over, though doing nothing to disguise ice-cold fury. King Arthur sneers slightly. "Did you really think you would end this so soon?"
Her question is met with nothing but silence.
"Fine." The monstrous Excalibur is raised high overhead, magic swirling around its blackened steel. "My turn, I suppose."
It did not take long. How could it? She was her, and he was him. Though similar fools they may be, the gulf between them was so clearly insurmountable.
Holding tightly onto a mask of calm, she stares into tired golden eyes. "You did well, Shirou."
"Did…" He blinks sleepily, fighting to stay awake. "Did I get you?"
She glances down. Her black armor shined, not a scratch on it. "...Yes. Yes you did."
A weak laugh. Where once there were butterflies, now was only jagged ice. "Liar."
She blinks at that. "How could you tell?"
A bloody hand is raised slowly, coming to gesture at his own face before limply falling back to his side. "Your... your eyes."
Silence falls, interspaced only by his labored breathing. He swallows heavily, before giving her the smallest of nods.
She understands the hint. It was over in a flash.
Red stained the tip of her blade. She refuses turn away, watching as gold grows duller and duller, before darkening completely. It was as if the glassy stare was accusing her of some sin, one which both knew she committed.
The mask broke. She couldn't help it.
She laughed. She laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed.
Inside, she couldn't stop screaming.
Wind howls, a storm approaches. "Cry out."
The overbearing cry of the greatest of magical beasts, of which she was one in both heart and soul. "Vortigern, Hammer of the Vile King."
Sound dies, hope fades. "Invert the aurora!"
The denial of fate. "Swallow the light!"
The arrival of death. "EXCALIBUR MORGAN!"
A/N: I love Cas-Cu, but fuck me there is no way in hell he is going to one-shot Cursed Grail powered Salter, even with Ochd Deug Odin. It'll fuck her up, yeah. But kill her outright? No chance.
Sorry about cliffhanger, it was the literal best place to stop, given that the Salter fight was originally going to be just one chapter.
(Recommend 'Fate OST: Last Episode' for this next part.)
