As the noonday sun beat down, the stone streets teemed with life. Walls of sturdy Byzantine masonry formed channels for the sea of silky robes and linen tunics. Stretched canopies covered lines of stalls, whose colorful and fresh products filled buckets and bowls to the brim. A nearby channel glimmered by the sun's unhindered grace, attracting the eye to gaze upon the many small boats paddling by the harborside.
Wherever the eye turned, there was no doubt: Constantinople was thriving.
It made for quite the mystery to figure out what marked this as a benign singularity. Yet, that's what Sanson, Lord El-Melloi II, and Tamamo were trying to uncover. An hour had passed, and still no news for the rest. Concern only remained mild, at best. They'd find the source eventually, but in the meantime, many servants were bartering and picking new goods to bring back to Chaldea. These supply sorties had become a quick and routine staple in the few weeks since he'd been here.
With it, opportunities were forged for the curious saint; Ones he wouldn't have considered on arrival with humanity in peril. Now, calm and relaxed, George found himself standing off to the side out of everyone's way. That didn't mean many weren't going to slow and marvel at his holy presence, but he'd offer back a mere nod and a smile to send them on their way. Almost none stopped to talk, but that was fine. Though he'd gladly banter, his mind was very pre-occupied.
Hidden in a crook of his flowing battle attire, George kept the modern invention out of sight. No doubt, the sight of a modern DSLR would spook many, so the polymer device remained hidden… for now. He was intent on using it, just as he had in past sorties. The only issue was how was he going to use it?
Gudao's best friend had made it clear cameras were used to take instant pictures to keep and cherish. George loved that concept the second he heard it, and had quickly acquired one of the unused archival cameras from the Logistics Division. With so many buttons and switches, it took a night of fiddling to comprehend, and even then, he found his nose buried in the very few photography books Chaldea housed in the library.
But there was no substitute for experience and practice. Thus, it would always be with him, but his new way of seeing the world was… uncomfortably complex. He knew he wanted to take a picture of a landmark. Honestly, he already had, but he felt it could be better. Much better. There just had to be a way to get a better picture of the majestic dome of the nearby Hagia Sophia, a monument to God's- "Marie! We're supposed to be getting spices!"
"Awww, but the children!" After a chorus of young laughter filled the air, George glanced over to a nearby stall. He wasn't surprised to find Marie happily coddling a few children hiding in the shade of another awning. Their mother nearby, selling an assortment of pottery, smiled at the giggling rider. Mozart, though standing akimbo and trying to look stern, quickly faltered with a warm sigh.
He chuckled and waved his hand. "Maybe a few more minutes then. Just don't try and take one home."
"Yay~!" Marie cried out happily, then spoke in native tongue to the young boy and girl closest to her. "(Hello! You can call me Marie! What're your names~?)"
Although architecture and scenery often threw him for a loop, George's instincts flew on auto pilot. After carefully moving towards a shrouding curtain for a stall, he pulled out his camera, turned it on, and aimed true. Upon hearing the electronic beep, he pressed his finger on the shutter. It focused and clicked three times. A split-second review popped onto the back screen before he hid his device again with a smile.
With one final glance to check nobody noticed, he turned his amused gaze back to the happy French queen. There was so much to take a picture of, but there was no doubt in his heart which ones were important. Marie would love to see it, no doubt. He loved capturing it, and anything really. There was so much that deserved to be memorialized with a click… and yet the question returned.
With an exasperated but content sigh, George glanced back to Hagia Sophia. He hummed silently to himself. 'How can I capture your splendor…?'
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Fragment 99: Beyond Faith
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To his friends, George's Room was often described as a photo hall that happened to have a bed in it. They weren't too far off. Hardly materialistic, George often saw no need to collect any trinkets for himself. He'd accept gifts graciously, for certain, but those made up nearly all of his room's normal decorations. Big and small, they stood proudly as mementos within the many fir bookshelves that lined his walls.
Besides the stock Chaldean bed table, and chairs, only a matching desk and cabinet joined them. Above its spacious top was the room's lone Sunscape window that portrayed this morning's sunrise over the Italian Dolomites. Beside it were two special bookcases, whose many shelves were filled with photos that differed from the countless others on display. Among them was the one he currently stared at: A photograph of Hagia Sophia's dome at noon.
'It's been well over a year since then,' he sighed to himself. They'd never been back since; A shame. He was still a novice with limited tools, but now he'd like to believe he was more experienced. That photo, like the others on the two flanking bookshelves, would remain another memento to show how far he'd come, and what he'd like to capture again with better eyes and lenses. Nevertheless, as proven by the many other photos on display, there was much of God's blessed world he still had to see.
That'd come in time, but for now, he had a more pressing, persistent concern. Or, to be more exact, Chaldea did.
Like other Peacekeepers, he'd been on damage control for the past few days, keeping disagreements orderly. Though the tension was waning, discontent remained firm. Naturally, he wanted to do anything he could to help remedy that. Yet, he'd done all he feasibly could without getting directly involved in something too personal. His will to help met a dead-end… or so he initially thought.
Quietly, the battle-clad rider turned back to his desktop project. His laptop remained buzzing with several loading bars and confirmations. He'd been doing emails while waiting, but the tasks neared completion. It took him all night, but he was confident now. What he'd accomplished would be his silver sword.
It had to be. Though they'd been through far more trying situations, Penthesilea had accidentally stoked a fire that had been simmering for a year. Now Chaldea, with all its different servants, backgrounds, and origins, fell conflicted. That wouldn't do. Disagreements were fertilizer for growth, but too much of anything could bring unwanted results. George wasn't about to watch it teeter further, nor let these old flames continue to burn.
George quickly checked the small cuckoo clock on his desk: 0644. Breakfast was still over an hour away, and he wondered if Penthesilea would avoid coming outside again. Her stare looked remarkably more distant in the past day, and he hoped it wasn't because the apparent discord was getting to her. He wanted to know more and understand so he may lend a direct hand if he could, but there was a time and place, and both were currently out of reach.
After glancing back to his computer, then the loading bars, he breathed out gently. 'I've got plenty of time. I should take a break once it's done. Go to the Chapel early.'
Compiling would only take a few more minutes at most. He moved his cursor to the bottom tabs and brought up a new window. After he refreshed the page, a new email appeared. He glanced at the sender's name, smiled, and opened it. He was glad Chaldea's specialized email server ensured contact with the outside world remained efficient yet secure. No doubt, he was more than happy to keep up with avid travelers like himself.
Hey George,
Sorry to hear about the problems in your part of town. Home owner's association got it under control, I hope? I know I wouldn't want to leave for a trip on a sour note. Makes the flight horrendous.
Rough topics aside, a shame our schedules don't line up three times in a row by accident. It would have been hilarious to run into you again in India, but you and your friends have fun out there! I really need to see that country for myself. Mostly for the tigers. You know me and the big cats.
You're more than welcome to make me jealous with a photo of one while I'm fooling around in Antarctica! I'll send a penguin selfie to brag back. Or a colony's worth. And before you ask, no, I'm not diving there thank god. Maybe a polar plunge for tradition, but dry suits is where I draw the line.
Safe travels!
George glanced over his friend's attached business signature again. It had a new design, but it was clean and listed the important stuff. If he was going to start a humble photography brand on the side, he was going to take notes on this one. It wouldn't be the first time he took some photo tips from this avid traveler. George began typing his response, all while pondering the irony of where this photographer was headed.
While he did so, the loading bars for his hopeful project beeped complete one at a time.
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It was a bit disappointing the walls of his room felt more like a haven than the Chapel did. That wasn't how it should be. Places of worship, no matter the religion, should be honored sanctuaries free from the plights of the world. Wherever he travelled on his many journeys, the saint could always find calm refuge under a roof dedicated to the Lord.
Yet, even Chaldea's Chapel felt the lingering weight of tension just two days after the confrontation.
To the eye of most, it didn't show. Maybe even to Elsa, it appeared as it always were. Conversely, George and the other caretakers had been present here long enough to feel it. It wasn't quite a thorny wall of concern, but rather the taboo phantom of what could happen if certain topics were raised. George held no fear his battle-dressed companions would be tempted to peer through that curtain, nor let it come that far.
As he helped Amakusa open a new box of saintly cloth, Martha's gentle humming echoed as the only sound. In the arms of the blue-haired saint, Giovanni napped happily in his blanket cocoon, blissfully unaware of the mixed whispers of the surrounding silence. To him, it was only peaceful.
Elsa and Jeanne dusted the faux stained-glass windows at the side. George watched the employee for a moment as she gingerly worked the feather duster across the depicted image of the Son, as if she was privileged to clean his real body. Her hand was clutched to her chest, where a rosary remained pinned to her uniform jacket while a prayer leaked from her lips. Though her eyes looked exhausted from work, as always, she chose to be here to help.
Piety was a divisive topic now more than ever in history. Despite the harsh perception, George was just glad some like Elsa and Anishka chose to have flawless faith in their belief. Belief was a very powerful sword, no matter what it was for, good or bad. It inspired the debt-burdened, widowed mother to take a terrible leap of faith that rewarded her with a greater future for her career and baby. If no one else, the saints of this room would promise this child and mother were sheltered with the Lord' protection.
Upon realizing he stared too long, he turned back to Amakusa, only to see he'd gazed off towards the baby with a small smile. In his hands were some of the newly delivered decorations: Ornate little pieces that could build another nativity scene. December was just under two weeks away.
George picked up one of the three wise men and smiled. "Christmas is around the corner. Time sure flies."
"Janna never stops talking about it," Amakusa chuckled, earning Jeanne's smile from across the room. He glanced back. "Jaguarman tells me it's becoming a problem in class."
"She's excited to make us proud," Jeanne sighed, but blissfully. "She's still getting good grades, so I'm not worried."
"For now," Martha chimed in with a small giggle. It turned to a gentle whisper as the baby shifted in her arms. "What about you, Gio~? You going to be a good scholar for your mother~?"
"So long as he's a good boy, that's all I pray for," Elsa commented. After a few smiles and nods, the Chapel fell silent again. It wasn't perfectly comfortable, but it was better than most of Chaldea; That unfortunately said much. After a few minutes of inspecting the nativity scene with Amakusa, the employee spoke up again. "George? I heard you're giving a surprise photo presentation after the meeting."
Talking about the meeting cracked a door for tension to sneak in. Yet, George, like any good sentinel, was going to do his best to ensure the conversation steered away from that. "I will. Everyone will be there, and it won't take up too much time. It should be better than trying to gather everyone at a later date just for ten minutes of their time."
"What will you be showing? Or is it a secret?" Amakusa asked, and George merely smiled back at him. After a few seconds, he smiled back. "I see. Then I hope your pictures inspire us."
Several nods chorused across the room. Silence reigned, but Elsa made a small hum of thought. George gazed to her first, and others were quick to notice the concern etched subtly onto her face. She glanced around, smiled bashfully, then shook her head. "I'm sorry. I just pray it will end well."
After another pause, Martha sighed. "Not everyone will be pleased either way."
"It would've only grown worse if they delayed further," Amakusa surmised with a small frown. "Whatever the vote comes down to, I'll accept."
George withheld his frown. Of course it was in the back of everyone's minds, so it wasn't surprising it came up. He was confident his fellow Catholics wouldn't trade sharp words. On the other hand, some groups were split. He still remembered Beowulf, Nightingale, Joan, and Angra got into a pretty heated disagreement just yesterday. Thank God their friendship shined over it.
Nevertheless, that brought into question how fast Chaldea would move past this second polarizing incident.
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As always, George preferred to be near the boardwalk railing rather than the shade of the cafeteria cabana. Unlike its current stuffiness, the gentle breeze and tickle of briny air carried his mind elsewhere. No matter how long the resort had been here, every whiff ignited his ceaseless wanderlust. The flap of his battle robes sent his mind back to distant lands.
One second, his cloth flapped from his horse's back as he rode down a dusty path in France. Another blink, he was back in Uruk assisting the city with mundane errands that meant the world to Gilgamesh's people. Across his vision they played out: The countless happy faces, the palate of smells, those grateful for help, cascading scenery, and the lands that still remained unseen to him…
For the saint, who believed in and brought miracles to many, there had been no lingering impossibility save one: To explain the thrill of travel. The wonder of seeing a living, breathing place with one's own eyes. To be blessed to walk the lands painted by God in all its colors and, maybe, help those who lived there so its palette could shine with vibrance. It was a radiant satisfaction that needed to be experienced to be believed, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.
Click, click, click. 'A picture sure helps.'
With his plate of fresh fruits balanced on the railing, George lowered his newer camera. Its backscreen flicked on, and he quickly glossed over the previews. He nodded at the second one. "Could be better."
The pair of dolphins had been playing on the sea. By the angle of the sun and its still golden rays, the splash of their dance looked like a small whirlwind as they leapt in the air. Yet the beauty extended far beyond what the pictured framed, for the skies were filled with gentle clouds that frolicked with birds. The waves lapped to kiss the pristine beach endlessly, and the forest glistened with morning dew. The dolphins were merely what he wanted focused for the moment.
Content with a spontaneous morning exercise, George switched his DSLR off and plucked a fresh mango slice from his plate. He gently chewed, then turned to glance back at the cafeteria. Though still not quite the jovial bustle it had but days before, it was improving. It would have felt more like the polite chatter of a posh restaurant if his mind hadn't known what wafted in the air.
Even his eyes picked out the unfortunate details. They was much less than before, but still fairly glaring. Atalanta's family aside, his eyes first landed on the Valkyries, who talked hushed with Brynhildr. Some employees nearby were definitely talking about the meeting later, though their opinions seemed different. Anastasia still glanced around warily in her seat beside the towering Sergei. By the grills, Kiyohime's smile wasn't as bright as it had been in recent days.
Then there was Holmes and Moriarty at another table, seemingly disagreeing openly. Maybe it wasn't for the big question at hand, but it could fool anyone at a distance. Iskandar and Lord El-Melloi II frowned as they talked with Tyler and Kintoki. Cu, Medb, and Gabrielle seemed deep in another argument. For every content or neutral expression, there was one of lingering concern. It was a disappointment he wanted to fix sooner, but he'd have to wait.
His gaze shifted to Tesla as the well-dressed man walked over. Though he looked as clean and scholarly as always in his navy-colored business suit, George saw the exhaustion in his friend's eyes and the whiskey bottle in his hand. Tesla was quick to catch on, and offered a small smirk. "It's not what you think. I was up all night arguing with both Edisons about our projects."
"I see," George smiled back lightly as Tesla joined him at the rail. Though the saint disliked any heated or fatigue-causing spats, the inventors' endless rivalry seemed… a strange, acceptable sort of tame? The saint chuckled. "In that case, will only one whiskey bottle be enough to erase the night?"
Tesla mock gawked at his friend playfully. "What heresy. A saint condoning the irresponsible act of alcohol indulgence?"
"I neither condone nor encourage, for I am not who one answers to, but God," George joked lightly back. Tesla chuckled, and George lifted his glass of water to toast against his whiskey. "I hope your, hmm… discussions led to some progress on these secret projects? The ones for Chaldea's safety?"
"Yes, those. We can only make so much progress despite all the technology and magecraft at our disposal," Tesla admitted with a sigh, then a rather refined swig of the bottle. He sighed again. "We can't reveal anything beyond what Chaldea is aware of. Da Vinci insisted caution."
"A reasonable course," George agreed as he subtly gazed towards a table of Mage's Association members. Though he always lived by the vow to treat everyone fairly, he'd learned to retain reasonable caution when dealing with mages. Often times, they acted only with selfish interest and indifference at the cost of others, but he remained adamant not to judge them himself. Skepticism will be held, but a person was still a person in God's eyes, and thus, he would respond accordingly only to what is known.
After a small pause and a sip from his water, George turned back to Tesla. "Has the current issue been a road bump?"
"A fair amount. But nothing greater than what blocks us from progressing…" Tesla begrudgingly admitted with a shake of his head. "Conversely, I'd say Da Vinci and Melloi's heavy focus on this project was cause for this situation to grow wildly out of hand."
"Conflicting priorities of the same leaf. To protect Chaldea from problems without… and within," George commented as his friend nodded. "I pray it doesn't weigh heavy on your mind. Time and circumstance were merely our enemy again."
"It weighs, but it's no anchor. I'd even argue Chaldea needed this. We can't invent a solution to a problem whose parameters remain undefined," Tesla countered with a wave of his finger. "The masters, community… We've been too lax expecting everything to integrate perfectly. We took civility for granted. As something promised. Rather it's a guaranteed impossibility, and it was a mistake not to have much stricter safeguards in place. Irrespective of the respect afforded to a new arrival, we are a society, and its well-being should be prioritized over loosely-defined leniency. Hopefully this is the last lesson Chaldea needs on this."
George nodded. "I only hope those who may come aren't terribly offended."
"Sometimes there's no perfect solution, but there must be one." At that, the two fell into a partially uncomfortable silence. As two unusual friends, it wouldn't last long. Not when George refused to let anything end on sour notes. Tesla just happened to beat him to it with a dry smirk. "I'd say that's enough, wouldn't you? It's too early for this and the council plans to discuss it in a few hours."
"Ah, but it wasn't too early for a whiskey bottle," George jokingly pointed out. Tesla eyed him for a moment, chuckled, then took a swig as his answer.
With a satisfied exhale, the inventor shrugged calmly. "With a rival like mine, it may never be. I pity Omar, that poor kid. Has to deal with that furry fool as a mentor."
"By chance, do you know if…?" George began as a hopefully bright turn to the conversation.
"He's getting his sight back." Thankfully, it was. Tesla nodded with a content smile. "Touko was finally convinced to go help perform that complex operation. He can thank Shiki for pulling strings. Not sure when Da Vinci will find the time to assist with all our stacked projects…"
"Any goods news is good news," George stated. "He'll finally see his new home with his own eyes. I want to be there to photograph his stunned expressions."
"I bet they'd look great on the employee wall in the hall," Tesla chuckled. "Poor Omar doesn't know what's coming."
"He won't, but it'll be a good memory for him. One of many to come." It'd beat the past few years of many turbulent memories. Those horrible experiences would never leave, and often haunt his dreams, or so he'd heard, but George knew the light would win out. It always peered through the clouds after a rain, just like the one that covered Chaldea. All it took was a good reminder to freshen the mind.
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For the remainder of the morning, George had locked himself in his room to focus. He'd rehearsed his presentation endlessly. Some may have called him paranoid for how many triple checks he did on his slideshow and accompanying music. Everything needed to be beyond perfect, and only just before lunch, he felt he reached it. He'd still return to practice for the hour after, but not before a break for lunch.
"It's just like back then! Gabby acted with good intent, took the fall, and caught all that flak for it before and after her fight! It's just Achilles trying to do the honorable thing instead!"
"That doesn't mean it wasn't a bunch of stupid decisions! Gabby's refusal to throw in the towel was stupid! Her decision to act behind many's back was stupid! And so was what Achilles did! Why are you being so thick?"
George was already rushing down the hallway towards the yelling, but he didn't need to. There was already another Peacekeeper on the scene eyeing both of the employees warily. Unfortunately, it was also drawing a bit of a crowd beyond the original small group of four. George still gently moved past two robots and approached the five. By then, Diarmuid was just finishing up what he was explaining.
The Irish lancer glanced his way as George eyed them. The saint asked, "Is everything alright here?"
"They were getting a bit carried away with their argument. I was just asking them to move to a better spot where they wouldn't cause a small traffic jam."
"That's it? You're not going to tell them not to stick their noses where they carry no business?" George and Diarmuid quickly snapped towards the incredulous tone. Among the sparse gathering, a middle-aged Mage's Association member in a white sweater vest and burgundy pants stared dryly. He scoffed. "This has grown into a circus. Isn't there a hierarchy that needs to be maintained? If this was the Clock Tower, they would've been scolded and silenced for intruding on higher affairs that don't concern them."
"We're not about censorship here. Only civility," George stated calmly, but only got a quirk of the eyebrow from the magus.
"Hmm… I suppose not, otherwise this whole situation would've been handled more efficiently. The ineptitude was eye-opening," he trailed off, but was swiftly earning a glare form Diarmuid. As he walked away, the magus even dared to mumble to himself, likely thinking they wouldn't hear. "If this place had some competent masters, these servants would have been kept in line. At least the Vigil dogs are smart enough to know the value of structured obedience."
"That's enough out of you!" To George's surprise, it wasn't Diarmuid, nor any of the other stunned employees or robots who spoke up. The startled magus glanced up towards a familiar jade suit, only to meet the stern glare of Vernier. He jabbed a finger towards the offender. "Do not forget we are to be respectful to our hosts too. You want me to report this infraction to Musik? It doesn't take much to lose your place on the investigation team."
That quickly silenced the other magus, but not his newfound glare. He picked up his pace, shared a glance with Vernier, then turned his head dismissively. The former lead Clock Tower magus let out a small growl, turned to the two Peacekeepers to offer a sour nod, then walked after the other man.
Still, it left a bitter taste in the air. While open disagreements in the hallways have been far less frequent than the past two days, George didn't like the tension they continued to fan. Fortunately, that outburst from the magus seemed to have shaken the will to argue from these few staff. Diarmuid crossed his arms and let out his tension. "The meeting can't come soon enough."
George nodded and glanced to the mixed bewilderment and apologetic stares of the group of employees. One fidgeted. "Will the Amazon leaving actually fix anything? I think she's a problem but… what if this fiasco happens again?"
"We're going to make sure it doesn't happen again," George quickly reassured. "Their past came to unfortunate light by awful circumstances. Something similar may happen again, but I won't blame anyone for what the throne curses upon them. It is not my place to judge, only to help make things right."
His word was as firm as his faith in both of them. By what Chaldea knew looking in, Achilles acted with good intent. Penthesilea was a victim of her class container's signature. All things considered, what occurred was neither one of the best nor worst outcomes. It was undisputed things could have been better, but he'd never blame anyone for trying to fix what's right, nor victims of fate's cruel hand.
George wouldn't judge, but the council had to. With an offered calming smile and a nod, he reassured. "The meeting will help settle this. I promise you."
"Will it really?" another of them asked.
He'd dared to promise, and George wasn't one to break an oath. He kept his smile. "Have faith in the community. No one here wants to tarnish what we've worked so hard to build."
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Conversations at lunch were a little more subdued than George believed they'd be. With the meeting only two hours away, it was on everyone's mind, but the number purposefully avoiding any mention was evident. Differences of opinion aside, it was safe to assume nearly everyone was getting tired of this situation. The tension was there, but no one aired anything further in favor of less hammered-thin topics.
'Dinner will be better,' he reassured himself as he sat down at a cafeteria table, which bordered the boardwalk. He sat facing towards the distant forests, if only to allow himself calm, casual glances towards the distant picnicking group. He couldn't help smile just a bit. Penthesilea was in good company, at least, and they'd be the supporting arm she needed in her stay. George held little doubt the vote would pass in her favor.
The real issue remained about lingering feelings… and other problems. Just past the picnicking group, Lobo remained uncooperative in his claimed territory despite Geronimo and Kintoki's efforts. There were also other thin-ice confrontations that the Peacekeepers had only been keeping tabs on; Were they going to have to interfere with personal affairs for the sake of the community? There were a lot of desired answers.
"You look a bit lonely." The saint turned to smile at Martha. Like Sasaki beside her, she cradled a plate of delicious barbeque in her hands. "Mind if we join you, George?"
"Please, be my guests," he motioned. When George wasn't eating to the wayside in solitude, he'd usually just do what the masters did: Sit with others who'd welcome him. He didn't have designated eating company like others, but that was the point. He was often freely welcomed if they had space, but for lunch, it was his blessed fellow saint and her friend who chose him. "I haven't looked at the menu. What part of the world is offered today?"
"The states," Sasaki responded as Martha placed her plate down first. George quickly glanced at her food. There were some slices of fruit and a tall glass of frigid, condensing water, but the main course was… George had seen oily cheeseburgers dragged through the garden and adorned upon the Pendragons' plates, but its occasional appearance as his fellow saint's dish never ceased to amuse him. He smiled to the other rider.
Martha sat down, noticed his glance, and pouted a bit. "They're delicious."
"Delicious pillows of grease. Not very flattering for any flower." That comment earned Sasaki a quick jab of her elbow, but it was only met with his and George's chuckles. The Eastern swordsman only politely unfolded his napkin to place in his lap. By comparison to Martha's full course, he only had a small roll of sliced sashimi and a few grilled chicken wings. The assassin glanced to the brunette saint's glass of water. "Waiting for the tide to pass? You may need to wait longer after Camelot passes through."
"God willing, I have patience," George responded calmly. "I heard there was some sort of show at the Shrine this morning?"
Martha bit into a slice of melon, but suppressed a giggle. Sasaki smirked a teensy bit. "Jing finally got to play Chinese Checkers for the first time. Three rounds with Benkei, Hijikata, Xuanzang, Tota, and Li… It was hard to meditate with all her giggling. She won all three. Drunk."
George blinked. "…I'm guessing it was no fluke then? She's to that game as Karna is to cards?"
"I wonder," Sasaki shrugged and let out a chuckle. A robot hovered by, quickly dropped off some extra napkins, and floated off after a seagull hitched a ride on its chassis. George and Sasaki quietly glanced to Martha, who was daintily using her fork and knife to cut into her burger.
The assassin's smirk grew, and she quickly spotted it. She huffed. "What? It's too greasy to pick up."
"That usually doesn't stop you, but I understand. You feel the need to uphold some of your image for another saint."
"Not true! George doesn't doubt my grace!" Martha didn't jab again, but she did pout his way. "It's just cleaner! And I don't judge you for eating wings with chopsticks!"
"What's wrong with that?" Sasaki questioned back. It was George's turn to gaze towards him, and sure enough, he was already clamping a wing with his chopsticks. Of the few times he'd sat and ate with Sasaki, George had never seen this. "It keeps my hands clean and I can still eat it fine."
"Then I can eat a burger with a fork and knife," she countered proudly, and then proceeded to shove a cut bite into her mouth like throwing coal into a furnace. George smiled, but didn't say anything as she gave a stink eye to Sasaki. The assassin only shook his head with a chuckle. She pouted. "What now?"
"I didn't say anything, Martha. Enjoy your burger while I enjoy my wings."
Now this… This was the kind of squabbles George liked to hear around Chaldea. Not the divisive unknown, but the relaxed absurdities of trivial consequence. Though he loved to sit silently and lend an ear, issues of any sort drew his attention. But of all the plights he encountered in his travels, these types were his favorite to solve, for often only few words were needed to seal them away. In this case, he only had to enjoy amusing banter from an unusual friendship.
A samurai and a saint. It could have been the center of a unique story, but it was just one oddity among many in Chaldea that was allowed to be. It was the fruit born from a garden of the highest fertilizer and care. These platonic jewels were numerous and healthy, and yet it was often a few weeds or unkept soil that drew the eye prominently.
Nothing that couldn't be remedied with the right tools.
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"Anton has everything set up for you afterwards. I'm curious what you've got in store, Mister George~," Da Vinci hummed pleasantly, despite the conflicted anticipation filling the Auditorium.
George appreciated any ray of light. "I aim to succeed."
Da Vinci and George gazed out on the floor before center stage while the seats filled. Chaldeans walked in with hushed conversation, and none of it jubilant. There was a thickness in the air, but it wasn't an overwhelming tension or anxiety. Sure, there was some wariness since Penthesilea had arrived first and sat among companions in the front row only a few paces from where he stood. That anxiety grew when Atalanta and her girls took seats much further away and behind. Even now, Jack occasionally fired a loathing gaze at the berserker's head.
"I hope they take it well," Da Vinci mumbled with a tiny sigh as David joined them. "It'll be nice to see a sea of casual clothes again."
"At least there's some," the uniformed David offered. He quietly motioned to a few spots where some servants already moved on, so to speak. Then again, some, like the fashionistas, were always trying to subtly outdo each other anyway. George had noticed the number grew in the past day, so that was a great sign. David smiled at it too. "I think we'll see more jeans at dinner."
"I hope so. Seeing everyone so ready for something makes me think of Goetia and…" Da Vinci admittedly bitterly, even if her smile remained. She then turned it towards the saint. "Thank you for trying to do something about this. I'm sure the others will see why I agreed."
George nodded, but then noticed the auditorium had suddenly grown a bit quiet. He watched a shiver seem to race up David's spine, then Da Vinci. There was no need to guess. George merely hoped for the best as he followed their gaze towards the auditorium's main doors.
Noticing the silence, Penthesilea turned around in her seat and fell still. Paused in the doorway, a blank-faced Hector stood beside an equally stoic Achilles. Except the recovering hero's battle-attire was nowhere in sight, replaced with a set of jeans, a jade muscle shirt, and some of Nightingale's special bandages peering above the neckline. The Greek rider's eyes cut across the silence to Penthesilea, who had slowly stood from her seat. The tension in the room spiked, even if they remained expressionless. The amazon stayed unmoving.
George only watched calmly. His faith and belief in a peaceful outcome remained strong. No doubt, he was one of the few not on edge when Achilles began slowly walking down the aisle. Atalanta and her daughters stood up, and he gazed to them briefly. With a small beg from his eyes and a motioned hand, George felt like he heard the unvoiced conversation. They no doubt had one when Atalanta's eyes turned incredulous and his girls stared with confliction.
Still, Achilles continued his approach as Hector flanked him. The Trojan sighed. "Don't make a bigger mess now…"
"Not this time." George didn't hear them, but he read their lips clear as day.
The saint turned his attention to Penthesilea, who was now calmly walking up the aisle to meet him. A voice echoed in his mind. "Please be ready for anything."
The number of Peacekeepers who stood up at the ready made George's heart ache for Penthesilea; It was a safety precaution by Okita's order, but he wondered how Penthesilea took it... This show of trust for her. He wondered if she understood. He wondered how much everyone else understood gazing from their own chosen balconies at a play that was best kept private. Yet, this new meeting was inevitable.
George just wasn't expecting it before the dust even properly settled.
Achilles and Penthesilea came to a halt only a scant few meters from each other. The incline of the theater's seating only made Penthesilea look that much smaller; She didn't show it. The queen only stared firmly at Achilles with a furrowed brow as he gazed stoically. A moment later, she finally tore through the silence with a calm voice. "You're walking about early. I guess that's to be expected from you. That's good… I'm relieved."
Though her calm words tried to soothe many wary eyes, the confliction in her voice was terribly apparent. As much as she held back a glare at him, George heard her check anger, likely against herself. After a pause, Achilles nodded. "In truth? I thought I wasn't going to make it. I was arrogant and underestimated you again."
"…I see…" Penthesilea's gaze turned to a light glare. Her fists clenched instinctively at her sides, and the tension threatened to explode into action until she aimed her glare to the ground at her side. "I see but I don't. Just what were you planning to do? Why hold back so ridiculously like that? Why were you so intent on helping me?"
There was another deathly pause before Achilles sighed shamefully. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'll come clean. I intended for a good fight, but to win. I wanted to defeat you again, but compliment you the right way this time. Your strength. Your defiance. That belief you could defeat me, that you came much closer than most. Not call you…"
"…Beautiful..." Penthesilea practically spat as she glared back at him. "I see. You wanted to set things right, but do it your way. To shine like a hero in the end. I guess that's also to be expected from you."
"What can I say? I'm arrogant and prideful with more to lose than I ever had," he admitted back as he scratched the back of his head. The shame in his voice barely lightened the berserker's glare, but she was listening, not yelling. George didn't know if Achilles knew it or not, but that was a promising sign. The Greek rider crossed his arms. "…and I made things worse. A lot worse… When all I wanted to do was set things right so you can be free from reliving that moment."
"And so you could erase that regret too," she commented, earning a small stare of surprise from Achilles. George mused on that revelation. So Achilles was regretful of what came to pass… but why did Penthesilea know that? Hector nodding and watching calmly beside them made the rider wonder in the growing pause. It stretched on long and uncomfortable while the crowd slowly filing in around the entrance grew.
A minute seemed to crawl pass. Finally, Penthesilea breathed out slowly. "…I can't forgive you for what you did, Achilles. You stomped across my legacy, intentionally or not. You injured my pride."
"I know. An apology won't do everything to fix that, but if you will take any of it, I'm very sorry for what happened," Achilles still insisted quietly. It was met with a calm stare from Hector. "I didn't… You deserved better. A warrior deserves better... I'm sorry I wronged you."
"I know you are. That was made obvious to me… but I can't forgive you. Not so soon, nor can I forgive my own loss of control. You crushed my pride, but so did I," she declared firmly, even as confliction and evident shame rattled her last words. "But it's not like that will matter much longer. If it puts you and others at rest, I'm not interested in amends. Not when I'm moments away from exile."
Achilles' stare filled with more shame and sympathy, but the berserker was quick to spot the latter. She glared lightly. "I don't need your sympathy. I had as much of a hand in this mess as you, if not more. Madness is no excuse."
"But Queen Penthesilea, I'd wager to say it made enough of a difference~…" Da Vinci chimed in from the stage. George and David glanced to the smiling director between them who tapped a finger against her cheek playfully. Penthesilea only stared in confusion when she hummed amid the stark tension. "Oh, don't mind me cutting in like that. I just thought it'd be a good time to bring up the vote since it seems everyone is here. There's been too much waiting as is, and I'm sure all would like the final vote~!"
George glanced to the entrance, where a giant pile of servants and employees were quickly being directed in by the Lord El-Melloi II and Holmes. By George's count, it seemed like everyone was finally present, including Vanguard platoon and the Clock Tower team. In the silent minute while Da Vinci waited, Penthesilea stared at her in bewildered anticipation. George could practically see the disbelief filling her eyes.
Da Vinci casually leapt to the stage as the lights dimmed just enough to focus attention. When Holmes, the masters, and El-Melloi joined them on stage, and George moved a bit towards his front row seat, Penthesilea, Achilles, and Hector remained in the aisle. Uncaring for formalities, Da Vinci concluded at last.
"Everyone nice and comfy? That's great. Sorry to keep you all waiting for so long. This could've been handled far better, but we'll get to that in a moment. So we don't waste anymore time, I'll start with the results without any of my usual sugar coating… Queen Penthesilea, there is no mistaking the will of the majority. By two-thirds of the vote, Chaldea has decided you should not, I repeat,notbe exiled for your actions."
"…Two-thirds…!?" a dumbfounded Penthesilea murmured.
Penthesilea's companions let out the loudest cheers. Before the stunned berserker could even react, Spartacus had rushed over to lift her onto his shoulder in triumph. Quetzalcoatl was quick to hop onto his other shoulder to reach over and hug the Amazon, whether she desired it or not. George was happy to see the friends she made in the few days were quick to surround and congratulate her in the growing applause.
At a loss, Penthesilea gazed back to Achilles to see him sigh and clap with relief. Hector grinned cheekily at her and scratched the back of his head. All she could do, yet again, was mouth her disbelief. "…I'm allowed to stay…?"
"You weren't in the wrong, Penthy!" "Don't underestimate how ridiculously understanding we are!" "Congratulations!"
Certainly, the cheers were loud, but the applause was far from unanimous. Even now, glares were aimed her way. The discontent on some faces were apparent, which dimmed lighting made more unnerving. You couldn't please everyone, but coals would always be stoked. Hopefully, and unlike another similar incident, Chaldea's Council would be far better at handling the promised fallout and discontent from the rest.
Again, George held faith in the best. How could he not from all he'd lived through?
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Da Vinci allowed a few more minutes for everyone to settle down again. Penthesilea and Achilles had parted ways after the latter offered a genuine congratulations, which the berserker was still too puzzled to answer properly. He'd joined his family after, and from what George saw, was only managing to do so much to settle their vivid displeasure. They were far from alone, but there remained a meeting to get through.
"Seeing that we're all quiet again, it's time to address the real serious matters. The problems that allowed things to come this far," Da Vinci began as her smile lost some of its rainbow glow. She gazed over everyone, then bowed her head gently. "On behalf of the council and Peacekeepers, we're sorry. We should've handled that far more efficiently and timely. Several days and an eruption of conflict is unacceptable for the community we've built, and we're going to put stricter measures into place to ensure such a potentially fatal confrontation will never happen again."
"However, there are problems with strict enforcement. Not all problems are black and white, nor all solutions clear as day. Why, it's only elementary to realize that universal truth," Holmes pointed out, then instinctively pulled out his pipe. At the sound of Nightingale's growling, he was quick to curse lightly and hide it; It drew a few chuckles from the audience, at least. He cleared his throat. "My point being… The decisions reached by the Council were heavily weighed and determined to be the most reasonable balance, but they're far from perfect."
"First, our leniency must be addressed. The window of opportunity to show civility… because many of us have taken for granted just how easily some are willing or able to compromise. We should've learned that lesson with Lobo, or even past berserkers cases, but we took a harder one from the Amazonian Queen," Da Vinci declared, but passed a tiny glance to the Penthesilea. "Without question, we were too laxed and lenient for such a dangerous situation. The masters, beautifully caring as they are, still insisted for overly-generous understanding and time. We wished to honor that, but they are now well aware not everything can work out perfectly."
George gazed at Gabrielle as she lowered her head in shame while Anishka looked frustrated. Gudao held his stoicism well as Da Vinci finalized her point. "So, from here on, every summoned servant will have at least two hidden guards until we can verify intent and possible conditions. That way, any unruly servants will be quickly and properly contained. If it is caused by mental pollution or mad enhancement, we will have a ready surplus of temporary potions, trinkets, and more for possible scenarios. If a servant is unruly enough, we will not ask for consent before forcing it upon them. In the worst case or their refusal to cooperate… they will be exiled on the spot."
That quickly drew conflicted whispers from the audience, and instantly made Jeanne stand to object. After a brief glance to a troubled Kiyohime, she spoke up. "Without consent? That's trampling on a heroic spirit's pride! It's breeding animosity and distrust when we want to encourage cooperation!"
"No doubt, it is, Jeanne. It's an offense one of us has already been through," El-Melloi agreed as he glanced to the teal-haired berserker. "It's unforgivable, but so is putting an entire community in danger by not doing so. A community that includes regular humans who may become helpless collateral. Again, we must stress, this decision was feverishly discussed before we reached this conclusion, and it's only for extreme circumstances where even the masters can't control them with their command seals."
The caster then turned to eye the masters. "Rest assured, next time, they will be much more assertive when it comes to situations like this. Their acceptance, understanding, and forgiveness for servants and their pasts is remarkable, but it should only go so far."
"A line must be drawn," Gudao agreed and nodded, if a bit ashamed. "We could've done better too. I speak for the three of us… We had as much fault in failing to sort this properly. We're sorry for what happened, and we'll also do everything we can not to repeat this mistake."
"The council will be discussing with them in private. We've all had a lesson to learn so we won't face a repeat," Da Vinci concluded before moving on to her next point. "For minor cases, some volunteer Peacekeepers will be asked to continue watching over them. Depending on severity, those who are best at restraining will be chosen. We don't wish to make anyone feel unwelcome, but if they don't give us a choice, we must act for the better of the community at large. Ultimately, the needs of one can't outweigh the needs of many. We're all on equal footing here."
Though there were some mumblings, George could feel the tone of the crowd. The reception of that statement was far better. He wished there could be a better solution for the unruliest cases, but sometimes hands were forced. Even he had to do some things he wished against when the cards fell.
"We've been unbelievably lucky with who has come. Who knows what the future brings," the director proclaimed. "If they fit in with time, wonderful. If they prove they're a terrible match and against even our loose code, then we must regretfully cut them loose. Goetia was defeated. The apparent end of the world is over, and the absolute need to keep every ounce of fighting strength has vanished... That doesn't mean we won't try to keep our doors open for anyone willing! On that we can all agree, right~?"
"I mean hey, you kept me around, I'd say that's plenty lenient!" Angra called out from the back. "I don't even offer any useful fighting strength!"
"You're a good distraction," Joan called out from near him, earning some laughter as he complained.
"Moving on~…" Da Vinci hushed with a bit more sing-song back into her voice. "We'll be putting a small hold on summonings until all our countermeasures and safeguards are in place. It also gives my genius and the other inventors some time to make headway on our own little projects for Chaldea's security. We've been so focused on external attacks we let the problems within fall lax. Again, I must apologize for that, because we've quite the full plate, but with very hopeful results~!"
"And, as usual, it will be kept secret beyond that," El-Melloi noted, but didn't make a single glance to the Clock Tower team like some other Chaldeans did. To the mages' discontent, no one tossed a wary glance to the Vigil operators. The only ones who weren't on the receiving end was Touko, who was elsewhere, and Flat… because Flat was Flat. Only El-Melloi gave him a stink eye when he started waving happily towards him.
"Only a few more points, I promise! It's a short meeting~!" Da Vinci reassured, then cleared her throat. "Next comes stricter enforcement to some existing rules. We're not trying to go out of our way to solve every personal problem and conflict from the past. That wouldn't be right or fair to the parties involved, but Okita's Peacekeepers will be ensuring that confrontations will be met with zero tolerance. Consequences for confrontation will be case dependen-"
"Is Okita going to cuff me for my pranks now?" Nobunaga was quick to yell out from across the room. Merlin and Mephistopheles snickered, but Da Vinci only blinked.
She shrugged with a smile. "If your pranks remain harmless, I'm sure you'll only be punished with community service."
"Unless you bribe her! Eh? Wink-wink, nudge-nudge?" an employee called out, earning a few whistles that had Okita beat red while Nobunaga tilted her head incredulously; George felt it was acted.
"Settle down please~! There's still more things to note, like the creation of a list of rules that should be abided by!" Da Vinci called out. Even as she and the others began listing the important bits, George glanced around the Roman Theater. The misgivings, while still swimming in the air, were now being battled by a growing lighter mood. No doubt, it still needed a big push, but it was a hopeful glance.
The meeting sailed on only a bit longer. The aforementioned list, some construction plans, updates about alliances, and a few other mentions were quickly aired. A summary bulletin would release later today. Most were getting a bit restless since the important news had been aired; George wouldn't be surprised if some would just walk out before his moment. It couldn't shake his faith.
Before long, the meeting had drawn to a close, and it was George's turn to lead Chaldea away from this incident.
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"So that's Coyote Gulch? I really need to hike out there. It looks great with stars."
George nodded as he held his phone up. "We were there before driving to Paige. I don't think you met some of my companions then? Jerry? Arjay or Billy?"
"I think I remember Jerry. Was he the Native American who put on a show in the sunlight? That was a beautiful photo."
Though the almost mystic glen was spectacular, George and a familiar traveler were lost in another world. Cu, Medb, and Fergus had wandered a bit further away from them after they'd cascaded into an enthusiastic conversation about photography and travel. Those two topics alone gave the saint plenty in common with the young photographer, who he'd first met by chance at Antelope Canyon. If it wasn't for the same exact black hat with notched sides and Velcro, George may have walked right past him.
Instead, the Irish glen had been forgotten in favor of simple conversation, but it was a mundane pastime George loved. Many passed it off, but there was a beauty and majesty in simply conversing with others from different places. Whether with farmers in France or tourists in Utah, travel proved the world was smaller and more relatable than many wished to believe. The world was as much alike as it was different, and those who remained content within their boundaries would never truly understand.
It was just one of many endless perks of travel. Finding a new friend, let alone another avid travelling photographer, proved a rarer one.
George swiped his phone to the next picture and watched with slight nervousness as the other photographer gazed at it with scrutiny. The saint had only ever had the approval of his peers, so a colleague in the field brought that rare sense of uncertainty. The man's impressed smile eased those nerves. "You've got a strong, growing portfolio there, George. It's hard to nitpick."
"You flatter me." It was a shame he couldn't share the thousands of others from the singularities. Maybe certain, safer ones… but not yet at least. He smiled humbly. "Everywhere you look, it's one beautiful landscape after another, so I don't think I can take that much credit. It's hard not to get a good photograph."
"Oh it is. But you've got the eye, for sure. No question," the man reassured as George lowered his phone. The other photographer still stared at the image as he rested a hand atop his own newer DSLR, which hung from a strap on his neck. "You've honestly, honestly only been doing this for a year?"
"A month or two over, but yes."
"Man, George… I've had a bunch of coworkers still trying to get to your level. Not kidding." George kept his humble smile, honed over a lifetime of generous deeds; Praise would never make it grow arrogant. Only confident he was on the right track. "So what do you do with them? They have any purpose?"
"Purpose?" George asked as the shorter man nodded. The saint had to think a bit about that. "I started taking pictures because I wanted to remember the places I've been and the things I've seen… That's what I still do."
"And that's more than enough reason for anybody to take a photo," the travelling photographer nodded, but then smiled a bit. "A great reason, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. But it's not quite a purpose. Oh but don't get me wrong. There's nothing wrong with photos that don't have a purpose in mind. I was just wondering if you intended on doing it as anything more than a hobby."
George nodded. "Ah I understand now. I don't think so. Possibly offer them to some friends of mine and the good people I work with, but I don't think I want to make a living out of this."
"Again, nothing wrong with that. I'd say you're better off that way. Turning photography into a job can sap the enthusiasm out of all but the most rockheaded. Like me," he joked and drew a small chuckle. "That said, your photos could still grow a purpose after. Not necessarily for money, but for a cause. They're tools as much as they are art. A single one can lend a single smile or ignite a cultural movement. I mean, bringing joy to others is a purpose too, so you can say your photos may already have a purpose you weren't aware of."
George nodded as he soaked in that information, only for the photographer to roll his eyes, wipe his face, shake his head. "Crud, there I go again. You'll have to forgive the random lecture."
"You said you're a photo instructor, so it's no problem," George laughed lightly. After a quick glance to see his Celtic companions had moved off a bit further, the saint nodded. "I don't mind tips or lessons. I'm still a student of the lens. There's always something new to learn."
"Great attitude, and also the truth of photography," the other man smiled. "Well, hope I opened your eyes a bit to other things. It'd be rude to keep you much longer. Your friends are wandering off, and the glen's lighting is still nice. Probably better in amber."
"What's not beautiful in golden light?" George asked back, and they both nodded in knowing agreement. The other man shook it.
Just like many singularities and a vacation before, George had been content to let nature and the world be a teacher for his photography. Trial and error was always a quick guide in life, but now he'd been directly gifted something to think about. He enjoyed taking photos, but would they be that much better if they had a purpose? Something noble and meaningful?
'To serve as memoirs would be a good start.' Surely, he had a lot to think about and consider with his art… but he wasn't about to let a more experienced colleague and possible teacher just slip away again.
They say you meet everyone twice, but George might not be lucky enough for a chanced third. "Oh! Franz, before you go. Do you have a business card or anything?"
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George wasn't too surprised many of those present had mixed feelings about sticking around for a photo presentation. Most of Chaldea's events were spontaneous and voluntary, plus driven by everyone's own opinion and interests. Already, a few were standing up to leave, like many of the Clock Tower members. Some Vigil operators were already heading for the door. Even Nobunaga and Chacha got up to wander somewhere else, but George took no offense on stage.
All he did was nod for the projector to be turned on to see if any leaving employees and servants, at the very least, could be convinced to remain. He spoke up clearly, "I promise I'll be quick about this. It wouldn't be very saintly to keep you too long."
His small joke drew chuckles, but the dimmed room quickly erupted with more chuckles as the first image popped onto the screen. It managed to make Nobunaga and Chacha stop to stare, though the Clock Tower mages had already filed out. Some other servants and Chaldeans stopped walking towards the aisles to look too. George smiled. "I ask you to forgive the blurriness. I was still getting used to my new DSLR and it was a fleeting moment."
"Waaaaaah! I didn't think you'd actually use it!" Ereshkigal cried out, rousing vivid laughter from Enkidu, Gilgamesh, and Ishtar.
On screen was a shot from the Fantasia Marina. Ereshkigal and Mashu were sitting on the pier, dipping their feet in the clear waters. Unfortunately for her, Chaldea's tiny troupe of monkeys grew curious, and one was peering hopefully into their beach bags. Mashu, in her favorite white swim dress, held Hanuman Junior as it sat on her lap. Beside Ereshkigal, there was a curious monkey pulling at the golden string bottom of her bikini. The goddess' face was almost as flushed as her bikini, but the clear signs hints of her mirth leaked into her expression.
George gazed to the embarrassed lancer. "I'm sorry, Goddess Ereshkigal, but you did give me permission. And, like many moments I see in Chaldea, I couldn't help but snap the photo when I had the chance. I still remember you and Mashu laughing happily despite the furry misfits."
With the apology out of the way, he turned back to the audience, bowed, and weighed anchor for his practiced presentation. "As you can already tell, this isn't the vacation photo slideshow that puts everyone to sleep, or so I've been told by a friend of mine. This is a slideshow about… us. About Chaldea. This beautiful place I, and all of you, have been privileged to see."
The next slide was simply a photo from the resort's boardwalk with a busy breakfast crowd. It wasn't a jaw dropping photo, but the amber sunrise rays and the careful angle made it look like a travel shot in a magazine. "As many are aware, I either wander from table to table, or keep to myself. It's certainly not because I'm adverse to socializing with fellow heroes, but because I can't help but marvel, every day, at the miracle so many of us may take for granted. I wish to see it day after day, with all its subtle moods, colors, and growth."
From the travel shot, it switched to a photograph of Asterios, Frankenstein, and Chiron having a picnic amid the tropical flower gardens. By George's chosen angle, it could've been mistaken for a singularity and not the resort. "Every day, I feel blessed to bare witness to sights such as this. Moments, shared between renowned figures, that have become so… so scheduled, routine, or spontaneously expected, that many don't think twice about them. I don't think that's a terrible reality. No, I think it's beautiful that we've reached the point this doesn't feel special. That is just feels so wonderfully normal that many forget how special it genuinely is."
It flipped to a new shot, or rather, a much older one. It showed the former cafeteria, with far less servants and more employees. Save for a few in casual clothes, one could almost feel the different atmosphere through the photo. It looked far less personal, but nonetheless…
"I still remember trying out a camera for the first time. It's amazing what we've been given the chance to experience, even back then. Darker days and trying times, but the first blooms of what was to come were already showing. Back when everyone's concerns rested with our war, we still pushed past hesitation to try out new things."
It automatically faded into a new shot. It was a photo of a simple singularity long ago, where Marie was happily sitting in the shade of a stall with some Byzantine kids. Theirs smiles matched hers, even if it didn't shine as brightly. Mozart stood to the side trying to hide his own mirth. "To experience what comes our way. To embrace them before they slip away under the sands of time to become just more what ifs."
The slideshow picked up. By now, George no longer needed the remote. The gentle strums of a guitar began, and the photos faded through one after the other. "We still wound up where we are today, with just as beautiful memories, but far greater in number."
After several stills, it turned into a video of sorts. Akin to a scrapbook, the moving visual panned across a collage of photographs George had taken. Some were in the singularities with jaw dropping backdrops. Others were in Chaldea; A few blurry backgrounds, but recognizable nevertheless. A few were funny, some were heartwarming, others were impressive or proud…
All featured at least a few Chaldeans for the dead silent theater to witness. George faced the screen, presented it in its arms like a holy light, then motioned to the audience. "It's so simple to forget where we've been. What we've seen. We've fought in trying times, only to return to a haven we've all come to appreciate. Maybe you've never forgotten. Maybe I'm up here reminding you needlessly of what we've built around us."
The music picked up, and the number of photographs grew even more diverse. None were the same, but the happy moments pictured sang to the wordless song. "These fleeting gems, both big and small, happen all the time, but it is often so easy to forget or fail to see the beauty of what often is when problems arise. But it's there, waiting for us to move on. It awaits with empty journals and picture-less frames. Blank pages eager for us to pen the new chapters to come. Of what's still to be seen!"
Though the photos continued, George had begun moving about the stage. He stopped to point towards the Camelot knights, then to the Indians with his other hand. "The knights are due to lay eyes upon Britain in a month. Before then, India awaits others. I've been chosen to photograph a beautiful wedding for the Romans and Egyptians before Christmas! A coming time to spend festivities with family and friends! There's a fashion show by the Stich Witches! Construction of a long-awaited ski lift! We have a winter festival too, but I doubt that's all December will have promised for us."
Finally, the photos on screen began to zoom out to show how truly massive the collage was. Some photos remained empty, as if waiting for the future. Others caused some in the audience to gasp lightly; A rather prominent picture showed David, Da Vinci, and Roman having a laugh on the Resort's boardwalk.
"No matter what trials we must face together, our future is promising. There is nowhere else in the world as one of a kind as Chaldea. Peaceful, serene, welcoming, accepting, proud, and miraculous. We have a duty to keep it that way, for friends new, and old, who have yet to come. All so we may cherish more of this together... Our story of love and hope."
Zoomed out all the way, the photographs could be made out distinctly only by servants. There was no need. With all its colors, the pictures had been arranged perfectly. A rough mosaic of the slideshow's second photograph, of a simple breakfast sunrise at the resort, served as the final image. The music came to an end as George took center stage. "Thank you all for your time, and for being a part of my presentation. With your help, I have faith the next one will be even more beautiful."
As George bowed, his finale echoed in his ears. Humbleness broke way for the sheer bliss of accomplishment as the clapping grew wild. He stood back up, and humbled himself for the growing standing ovation; He did it for them. All of them, and those still to come.
Although likely still divided by current events, he'd united them for this. There wasn't a single person in the audience who wasn't clapping. A few, like Xuanzang and Rama, cheered loudly. Gilgamesh and Ozymandias smirked with their standing ovation. Atalanta had a tiny smile on her face. Even Penthesilea, though clapping slowly, held her profound and startled gaze locked onto the final image. There wasn't a single frown in the audience.
George wasn't one to lecture unless he needed to, so he didn't think of this as one. No, there was no lesson to impart, scold, or reassert. Just a lovely reminder. That's all.
Da Vinci hopped onto the stage with a bright, cheery grin, and a giggle on her lips as George bowed again. "Well now, Georgios~… I don't think I could've asked for a better note to leave everyone on. I hope all your future presentations are this moving! And as well received~!"
"I hope my coming book shares in that light," George answered her quietly. The applause was finally dying down, only to be replaced by some pleasant chatter. Da Vinci quirked her eyebrow in hopeful curiosity, to which he only smiled. "Tis no secret. It's this. A memoir in tribute to these moments we've been blessed to witness. These pieces of time… or snippets or fragments of Chaldea. Our story… Part one, of course."
"Part one?" Da Vinci smiled coyly. "Hmmm~… I like the ring to that."
George chuckled. "I'm sure everyone does."
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Hey George,
Sorry about the delay. Satellite is hit or miss on this ship, but I'm not about to complain about throwing a message to space and back. Technology is awesome.
Great to hear your first presentation worked out well! If your photos helped soothe the community troubles that's even better. I'm guessing it was a lot of those private photos you said you'd never share? We'll leave it there then.
Because you asked: I've attached my schedule for underwater photography workshops with open slots. It's best taught in person for obvious reasons, but they're all in the tropics. Terrible, right? Learning in the sun with clear waters and good drinks. How awful.
Have fun in India, and don't forget to brag if you spot a tiger!
Safe Travels!
George began typing his response as he chuckled. He sat comfortably in a set of white dress pants and a tucked crimson polo; It felt great to feel relaxed again. The Peacekeepers had long stood down, so the air of Chaldea lost any sort of martial or sentinel tension. Misgivings remained, but they slid beneath the surface, drowned by the sheer weight of growing peace.
It'd been two days since he gave the presentation, and Chaldea was already beginning to feel like itself again. The halls were peaceful. Penthesilea was feeling more comfortable, even if some held resentment in check. The Leyshift operations were starting up again this afternoon. After the earthquake and aftershocks, order was restored.
'Time will heal the remaining wounds.' That didn't mean they weren't going to be vigilant. Da Vinci had been clear, and order for society would grow more responsive. Not exactly restrictive, but truly enforced for the sake of the future. Even a bit suggestive or pushy into finding peaceful settlement if personal grudges lingered. No doubt, they'd run into more roadblocks, and more instances that could stir the community differently, but it would be handled better. Awareness was key.
After quickly typing his response, then stretching his arms, George checked around his room. His book project was neatly stashed onto a shelf for later. A new package for his new dark room project would need to be repacked and stored in the closet for now. Otherwise, everything remained neat, dusted, and in order, including his travel bags stashed by the door.
So many projects to start and finish, but he was glad those were now the only concerns residing in his mind.
After checking the time on his computer, he pressed the send button, ensured there was no issues, and powered down his laptop. He stashed it into a small carry-on bag, then triple checked with his eyes that nothing was amiss within. With one final nod, he zipped it shut, stood with it, and walked over to his awaiting bags and coat. The Indian Heroes were leaving early for their long-awaited trip to their homeland with Anishka, and he was blessed Arjuna insisted he join them.
'I'm running out of vacation days as quickly as I'm gaining them…' George chuckled to himself as he donned his white overcoat.
The rider would leave with peace of mind, just like he had so many times in the past.
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A lone Vigil angel's engines hummed with warmth. Beside it, another logistics lander was quickly offloading new purchased goods; It was apparent someone, or many, had gone on a shopping spree recently. George paid it no mind as he quickly hustled to the more vacant one, where a lancer in a white sherwani waited with a tiny smile.
After passing and greeting a few robots with accompanying Vigil personnel, he waved to the Indian hero. "You really didn't need to give me some of your vacation days, Karna."
"No. I believe I did. Our vacation will be that much greater immortalized by our prestigious photographer," the lancer disagreed with a friendly smile. George tried to smile off the praise, but the lancer shook his head. "Think nothing of it, Saint George. Let's enjoy this trip together."
"We're not coming home without Hanuman!" Rama yelled from the back of the massive transporter. George gazed up the ramp at the saber, who practically bounced in his seat enthusiastically beside his wife. His red jacket and jeans flapped with every eager kick and swivel; He looked even more like a kid.
"He might not be there, Shri Rama." Across from him, Anishka sat with an amused smile as she clutched her backpack to her royal blue overcoat.
"He'll be there! I know he is! If not, we're summoning him when we get back with a good catalyst! I know what they'd look like!"
Anishka gawked as Parvati giggled beside her. "Please don't take from a temple, Shri Rama!"
"Huh? Annie, I wouldn't steal! I'm just going to ask if I can borrow it if I recognize it!" the saber countered, and this time Arjuna's chuckle echoed from within. Anishka sighed, but still smiled as Karna and George walked up the ramp.
The master turned to George with a smile. No doubt, she looked much more relaxed now. He hoped the council's lecture wasn't too hard on the masters, but if it was, it no longer showed on the excited Indian woman. The saint could never admonish their acceptance and forgiveness; The Father could only smile upon that. Yet, even he knew there was a time to take a stand, and he hoped the three masters would adopt that notion before another incident… Time would tell.
"I can't wait to meet your family," George nodded as he found a seat nearby. A Vigil robot stared at the tags on his leather bags, noted the fragile signs, and then gingerly moved them to a secure location for takeoff. "I'm sure the others would like to see a photo on our return."
"Nothing too embarrassing I hope," Anishka smiled, then glanced to her two beloved deities. "I'm uh… still not sure how they'll react to all of you. I hope it goes well."
"We're going to our homeland, Annie. I believe hiding our identities might prove a bit… difficult?" Karna offered with an amused smile as Anishka gave a thumbs up to one of the lander's crew. After a few signals from robots, the landing ramp began to close.
Arjuna even let out a small laugh. "If Geronimo in America was any indication… You'll have to forgive us, Annie. We're about to leave a very big impression."
The master only sighed, and though George was a bit worried on secrecy… part of him was very eager to document that for Chaldea. Photos of citizens reacting unknowingly to their region's heroes made for wonderful, and sometimes funny, photographs. One from Siegfried in Germany remained one of the most upvoted photos on Throneboo-
"Hold the lander! Don't take off!" a Vigil pilot's voice quickly snagged all their attention; George believed that was Mobius One? He was only mildly aware because, like Ozymandias, he was quite the proud Egyptian. Becoming Ozymandias' modern day chosen champion only made it grow. "Chaldean emergency! Hold the lander!"
The raising door came to a stop as the robots assisting the Chaldeans in the back beeped towards each other in bewilderment. The Chaldeans glanced to each other in worry. An emergency? So soon after a bad situation? They were answered almost immediately by Da Vinci's voice. The mild panic practically seeped into their minds. "Anishka! Everyone hasn't left yet, right? I'm sorry! You'll have to delay the vacation!"
"What's wrong?" Anishka whispered with growing concern, but it also echoed telepathically over the line. Rama shared a stern look with Arjuna and Karna as they awaited the response.
"Gudao was deploying to the unusual benign we discussed yesterday but something went wrong with the Leyshift. He got dropped in but his team remained here! We're getting ready to send Gabby in but- What? The singularity just went critical! Annie, I'm sorry, I know you've all been looking forward to seeing India again but we need all of you here right now!Gabby! Get on the pads! We have to drop you in before something happens to Gudao! Someone get me visuals and breach that interference!"
"We'll get your bags safely off! Please hurry!" Before the door even finished lowering, the servants were already rushing off of the angel. Parvati was carrying Anishka as several of them shifted into their combat clothes; Vacation was far from their minds. Their pressing concern remained getting to the Deployment Chamber as fast as possible.
Anishka looked tense, but a quick glance to the others eased her mind. George joined them with a look of reassuring confidence. Something went wrong, but they were far from inexperienced. It was a surprise problem, but one they'd fix swiftly; It wouldn't be the last. But no one was about to sit down and let them take a pillar of the community. Still, George felt like this was the work of another angry, escaped pillar.
All he could hope for was that the circumstances would let them have a smooth victory like last time.
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DISCONTINUED SUPPLEMENTS NOTE
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The next piece in chronological order is Fragment 100. As declared on September 24th, 2018, due to my career taking up more time, future supplement stories of the FGO canon singularities have been discontinued entirely. However, The Lost Shards will have a paraphrased version of the scrapped Supplement VII: A Timeless Bolero as one of its entries. It's not necessary to read, but it does help you get an idea how things played out if you were interested.