Knight of Avalon
Chapter-9
Kay, Baobhan Sith
When the world is shattered…
When the Chaldeans fall…
When the Black Dragon and the Fairy of Paradise meet…
The Lord of Light shall be reborn.
All hail Order. All hail Light.
All Hail *****
Morgue of the National Slaughterhouse, New Darlington, 2019 EoHQ:
"Ugh…" Baobhan Sith groaned in boredom as she sat in a surgical room, watching a fairy get cut open on a table.
By the table, stood a human man wearing a black, leathery coat caked in blood and gore with black gloves wearing a plague doctor's mask, cutting into the fairy's corpse with a knife, occasionally poking some body parts with a Jenkins tube to search for any Morse ether.
This was George Rae, Head of Morgue the Darlington Slaughterhouse theatre and Sith's personal human slave, and Faerie Britain's foremost Coroner.
"Bored, Lady Sith?" George asked with a chuckle.
"...Yes." Sith spoke.
After the pig claiming to be the Child of Prophecy escaped her clutches in Salisbury, Woodwose had sent her back to New Darlington on the suspicion that the Child of Prophecy was heading north, while he returned to Oxford to ensure the Round Table army in Londinium did not stir up trouble.
But the short period she'd spent under Woodwose from Camelot to Salisbury did not help her mood. Woodwose's constant barking towards her manners constantly rang through her mind…
…And the worst part was that it was working. She started giving more glares than actually ripping offenders apart…and it was not giving her any sort of pleasure. No matter how hard she tried, she constantly imagined Woodwose standing nearby, eating her brain with his barks whenever she even tried to send one of Failnaught's strings to cut a human servant open.
That was why Sith had come to the Morgue, where George was looking through the corpses of fairies coming from Liverpool who were suspected of Mors corruption, hoping that watching her surgeon performing autopsies on the corpses would help her mood.
Of course, George had a very bad habit of making terrible dark jokes while he worked, and his jokes were even worse than usual.
"Aw…that feels like a stab in my heart. I thought you enjoyed the tune of my knife more than best orchestras in Gloucester's theatre." George spoke just as he made minor incisions on the faerie's heart to mark spots of Mors corruption.
"Did you deliberately make that joke while you were cutting a heart open?" Sith spoke in an unamused tone.
George was silent, although Sith could hear soft snorts from him.
"Well, you should know your humor has drastically reduced in quality in recent days." Sith spoke.
"Blame Lord Gut. With his recent habit of barging into my office and dragging away bodies for sampling, his ramblings and attempts to strike a conversation with me has affected my usual humour." George spoke, shaking his head.
"Really, it's as if he's got his silvery words wrapped around my heart."
"Robert…enough with the heart jokes." Sith growled.
"My goodness, lady Sith, you are in quite the foul mood today. Have you had too little screaming to listen to?"
"No."
"Servant diluted too much water into your evening blood beverages?"
"No."
"Her Majesty curbed one of your personal freedoms?"
"...Yes."
"Ah, that makes sense. I did hear you were put in quite the spot during the Seelie Parliamentary session a few weeks back. Not to mention the number of bogdwellers that have been coming into the city. Why, one would think the King clan has been given jurisdiction over New Darlington."
Sith glared at George, silently telling him not to bring up her humiliation at Camelot.
"Oh, I see. Well, things have been not that bad. I went to the Darlington Medical College to deliver a lecture and perform a live surgery of a human and a fairy to demonstrate the differences between the two surgical operations." George spoke, bringing out a blade and cutting off the fairy's head in order to examine the skull.
"You could come listen to one of my lectures, Lady Sith. Darlington may be the 'Great Stink', but it's also Britain's foremost centre of medical knowledge and biological studies."
"I'm not interested in that, George."
Robert sighed, as he put down his tools and sat down on a chair beside Sith, reaching into, his coat and pulling out a bloodstained packet of chocolate, opening it to pull out a chocolate bar.
"Chocolate, Lady Sith?" George spoke, offering the bar.
"No."
George shrugged. "It's genuine Aberdeen farmed straight from Cnoc Na Riabh's personal fields."
"That makes it even worse. And for a doctor…you consume very unhealthy amounts of chocolate, George."
"Hehe, what can I say? Chocolate is the greatest thing to have ever been invented. It is a divine snack that cannot harm anyone."
Sith groaned.
"But really, Lady Sith, do you wish to talk about what's troubling you?"
Sith sighed. Despite her irritation with George, no one could entertain or understand her desires better than him. He always offered good advice whenever she needed it.
"Mother put me under that mutt's command." Sith spoke with a scowl.
George winced.
"Oof, now I can see the problem. Spending time with Woodwose can drive almost anybody insane."
"I know, right? I feel like I'M the mutt on the leash. Etiquettes, politeness…gosh, I just hated my time with him!"
"..."
"Even watching you operate doesn't help my mood. THat's how badly the mutt's damaged my head!"
Sith shook her head, putting a hand to her forehead, as George walked back to his table to continue operating.
"And then there's the pig I met in Salisbury…"
"Hm, they must be quite the character if you've already started calling them a pig."
"Feh, just a pathetic country bumpkin calling herself the 'Child of Prophecy'." Sith spoke, making quotes with her fingers.
"Oh look at me! I'm the Child of Prophecy, and I'm strong!" She spoke, imitating the pig's voice.
"Well, well, well. Now I'm definitely intrigued. I don't think even Woodwose took so little time to get you this angry." George spoke, pulling out his note book to make his observations for the autopsy report.
"Because the pig's weak! I beat her black and blue, without breaking a sweat, and her annoying little friends saved her! If they hadn't been there, I would have made that pig pay for trying to compare herself to me, the Princess of Faerie Britain!"
"..."
Sith put her face in her hands.
"How do I get things back in line. I'm just not liking anything lately." She spoke with an explosive sigh.
George turned his head to look at her.
"Perhaps…you need a little break from all the flesh and blood in Darlington. Maybe go for a shopping trip to Gloucester."
"A shopping trip?" Sith drawled.
"Lady Sith, you should know having only one way of keeping yourself happy isn't a viable way for living."
"Really, you of all people are telling me that? You, who spends the entire day cutting and slicing?"
"I have hobbies, Lady Sith." George spoke in an exasperated tone.
"Really?"
"I like baking…"
"Sith gagged.
"Don't even speak about your cooking, George. Have you forgotten the black monstrosity you presented me the last time you entered the kitchen? Mother's spear, your cake looked like a mors served on a platter, and I felt as if it was going to spring out of the plate and poison me."
"Lady Sith, I personally improved under a baker from Salisbury. I can make fine quality honey bread and brew some Aberdeen hot chocolate for your snacks now!"
"I'll be the judge of that. And besides, you don't have to be concerned. It's not that problematic."
"Lady Sith, I am your slave. I am slightly concerned at how gloomy you've been in the past few days. It reminds me of my childhood days when I was a young apprentice."
"Again, there's no need for such concern."
"Lady Sith." George spoke in a serious tone.
"I hear what the fairies at Camelot say about you. Your mother is rarely there to see you, and your 'Lord Gut' never sets foot out of the Slaughterhouse like the yapping bloodthirsty dog he is. Even though you practically revel in all the anger and hatred directed at you, you are quite a lonely person. And that means very few actually care about your health and what happens to you."
George looked at Sith.
"You know me, Lady Sith. Every life is precious, no matter how vile, and hence deserves to be nurtured and preserved. I do not believe anyone should be deprived treatment of a sickness. Not even someone like you."
"When will you let go of that silly idea, George? Some rats exist to give us pleasure, what's so complicated about that?"
George sighed. "That 'silly idea' lady Sith was carved into my head when I dragged the bodies of gladiators out of the arena as a child. I was the one who had to give the fighters a peaceful and quick death when their wounds didn't kill them, and their shocked faces told me what a shame it was for these people to lose their lives."
"Ironically, it was death and sickness that taught me the lesson of life and healing and brought me down the path of medicine. You may not share the same views as I, you may not value life like I do, but you are still my master. You are sick, and I must find a way to cure it."
"I'm not sick, George." Sith spoke shaking her head.
George stopped.
"We both know that isn't true." He spoke softly.
"..."
"Please, Lady Sith. Go to Gloucester, and just take your mind off the stress."
"Murian's not going to let me kill anyone in her city."
"...Perhaps you don't need to kill to be happy, Lady Sith." George spoke.
Sith looked at George.
What? Sith thought.
"George, I don't think I should remind you…"
"Yes, I know about what a Vampiric Fairy needs to sustain itself. But please, Lady Sith…perhaps a different method could help you."
Sith scoffed. "Enough about this, George. If you are so desperate that you've stopped your terrible puns, I'll go to Gloucester."
Why did George say that? She thought, perplexed. Killing was her greatest pleasure. The sound of blood dripping soothed her mind, and the screams of death put a smile on her face. To be happy without that…
George was one mad man.
"Thank you, Lady Sith. Oh, and one more thing…
"I heard Murian's auctioning off a Child of Prophecy."
"Hm?" Sith sat up, her eyes twinkling.
Did George just say…
"A Child of Prophecy?"
"I don't know if it is the same one you met back in Salisbury. I heard there's another one that's appeared at Sheffield…"
"Bah, I'm not concerned about Sheffield. That old fool Boggart and his little revolt are going to be crushed when they try to stand up to mother. I'll see about Sheffield's child of prophecy when we inevitably attack it."
"...Well, in that case, you're going to Gloucester?"
"I need to take a look at this so-called 'Child of Prophecy'." Sith spoke with a smile.
If it was the pig, then this was her chance. She could put an end to this mess, and get out of Woodwose's nose quickly.
"Thank you for informing me of this George." She spoke as George looked back at her.
"I was surprised to know you didn't know, considering the amount of hours you spend reading up the latest magazines on Gloucester."
Sith's cheeks flushed. "What?! Where did you…were you spying on me, George?!" She spoke as multiple strings appeared.
"Of course not, Lady Sith. I am a man of proper conduct. I would never even stab an eye towards your personal hobbies." George spoke with a shudder as his pencil accidentally pierced the page he was writing on, making George curse.
Sith's eyes narrowed.
"Fine then, but i want to know how did you know?"
"I will cut down on any veil of secrecy between us, Lady Sith. Don't worry."
"Fine. I'll go to Gloucester and buy that pig. Sharpen your tools, Robert. I'll be bringing the pig to your table." Sith spoke standing up.
"Oh? You don't wish to do it yourself?"
"Actually…you can teach me!"
"...Eh?"
"Teach me how to cut open a fairy's body. We'll use the pig as a demonstration."
"Um, Lady Sith…vivisection is a lot noisier than dissection. It's really hard to concentrate if your subject is blasting your eardrums with their screams and trying to drive their legs up your pelvic regions."
"I don't care. I'll hold her down with Failnaught."
"Um, uh…As you say, Lady Sith." George spoke as Sith went to walk out of the room.
"Oh, and Lady Sith!" George called out as Sith turned back.
"Could you buy me some…OW!" A string from failnaught wrapped around George's hand and squeezed against it.
"No. If you suggest buying chocolate one more time, I'll chuck you straight into Cnoc Na Riabh's personal fields in Aberdeen. You can enjoy eating your chocolate while those Bogdwellers skewer your sides."
"...Noted. Could you…please let go of my hand?" George spoke in a pained voice.
Sith then smiled at George. "Enjoy your day, George. I'll be looking forward to your Honey Bread when I come back…"
"...That is, if you don't burn down the kitchen trying to cook it. Bye~" Sith spoke walking out.
Sith's face turned into a frown.
"You really care about my health too much, George." She spoke.
"Perhaps you don't need to kill to be happy, Lady Sith."
George's words came to her mind.
"Being happy by not killing? It is such a stupid notion…I might actually try it." Sith spoke walking off, fantasizing about the pig groveling before her at Gloucester when she wins her at the auction.
Watling Street, west of the Imperial Capital Camelot, Faerie Britain, 2019 EoHQ:
Three humans and one fairy rode on horseback towards Gloucester. Two knights, a spinster and a mage towards the city of madness.
"So, why is Gloucester called the City of Madness, exactly?" Kay asked Habetrot, who was sitting behind him.
"Before you assume the city drives you mad, that's not the case. Gloucester is the city ruled over by Murian of the Wing Clan, although the Wing Clan is no longer really…present."
"Right, they were murdered in the Wing Clipping - when the Fang Clan fell under the effects of the Hunger curse and slaughtered them all in Gloucester. Murian was the only survivor, and ever since then - She's developed a sort of Paranoia of the rest of Britain. That Paranoia manifested into her domain, where everything is flipped."
"Like…things become the opposite of what they're supposed to be?" Kay asked.
"Yeah. Like…Gloucester had become a desolate city of ruins after the attack by the Fang Clan, but Murian's domain converted it into one of Britain's most glamorous cities. But most of all, the weak and pathetic become powerful and the strong become weak." Habetrot.
"In your cases, you and the knight are going to be reduced to regular humans, Helga's runes are going to severely reduce in power…and my healing spells will boost up exponentially."
"Hm…" Kay hummed. "Then starting physical altercations wouldn't be ideal, would they?"
"Indeed. Boggart's promised to pay the sum. We get in, enter on Boggart's behalf, and we get out."
"And we follow the winner in case we lose." Kay spoke.
"That's right. Habetrot spoke."
Kay looked down at Watling Street as they rode on it. He knew of the great road that connected the Kentish coast to the eastern borders of Wales used by his ancestors for centuries before the romans came and reshaped Watling Street in their image. The road constituted the legacy of the Roman Empire in Britain, even though it had been 50 years before his birth that the last of the Roman Soldiers left Britain along with the empire's western half collapsing when he was 11 years old.
Kay and Helga smiled at each other. Both of them had a history with this road. It had been the same road they took in their journey to Ynys Mon. Both of them remembered riding on horses down Watling street, wary of what mystery and horrors they would find on Ynys Mon.
I do wonder what is the history of this Britain's Watling street? Kay thought.
On the other hand, Kay thought of his master, who had by now entered the Cornish woodlands. Hopefully, she should be fine in Da Vinci's, Puck's and Mash's company, and should be even safer once they find Ritsuka and Tristan.
Not only would it be possible to restore both Ritsuka's and Mash's memories by having them meet each other, the same could be done with Tristan, seeing how much he cared about his king that even hearing Artoria's voice would most likely jolt him out.
So, they shouldn't be worrying about anything other than Mors roaming around in the woods. Kay thought.
Not like their part of the plan, which could go wrong at any point. With how Habetrot had made Murian's domain sound, Gloucester was much more dangerous, despite it's glamour and urban beauty compared to Cornwall.
But in the end, Kay hoped they would be able to get to this supposed 'child of prophecy'.
Gloucester City Prison, Gloucester, 2019 EoHQ:
Deep in the prison of Gloucester, a lone prisoner sat in his cell hammering away at a blade.
His cell was behind an iron door as well as a bounded field that kept him within, before which stood two Ashen knights and a bunch of human guards.
"He's grown quiet." One of the guards told each other as they watched the prisoner silently hammer away.
"Yeah. He was really behaving like a foul-mouthed old human when we first brought him, then he just started screaming the day after and has become quiet ever since." The other replied.
"Quiet, you two." The Ashen Guard growled as the human soldiers shut up.
Inside, the prisoner lifted up the blade, a very different one from the broken katanas that lay off to the corner.
This blade was a 90 cm long steel broadsword with gold welded onto its hilt in patterns of swans circling the sun.
"Hm…good." The prisoner spoke before leaning back against the prisoner walls.
The prisoner sighed.
"Haaa…This is quite the conundrum." He spoke, before his right hand turned pitch black and crushed the blade in his hands.
"Not good enough, then." The prisoner spoke before looking at a katana by his side.
"Perhaps I should try my hand at an eastern blade." He muttered.
"Read Murian's Secrets for the juiciest gossips around Gloucester! 2 Morpennies a piece!"
"Summer Sale at Count's! Go and buy clothing at 30% discounts!"
"Tickets to today's bidding night at The Dome! Get a chance to see Gloucester's biggest auction of the year!"
If Kay had to compare Gloucester with Salisbury - He would definitely call it bigger and noisier.
Unlike Salisbury's simple white houses with stone roofs, gloucester had massive apartmental complexes made of concrete in a rococo style with enough gold and jewel engravings to make Kay's eyes hurt.
Not to mention the sheer amount of people on the streets. The pavements were crowded with humans moving about, many of them selling newspapers and magazines to any fairies passing by.
Some humans and fairies sat on the streets, hoping for anyone to drop a morpound into their begging bowls while street performers played lutes every two street corners.
Other than them, many fairies sat in carriages moving in the lanes of the road specifically reserved for them, while anybody else travelled on horses or on the public coaches.
"My god…these houses are giving me a headache." Kay grumbled as their retinue moved slowly among the crowded streets. Already he'd felt his body grow extremely heavy because of the effects of Murian's domain, with even Helga looking a bit exhausted.
"You think this is bad? Just go to Camelot or Norwich and see the situation there." Habetrot grumbled.
"At least there are some Count Stores. Maybe I can actually see what's the big deal about Count's fashion style."
"You were not joking about this fae domain." Helga spoke tiredly. "It feels like Ynys Mon all over again."
"Don't remind me of Cath Palug sucking out our mana whenever we got close to it." Kay spoke as he and Helga both shuddered.
"So, We're supposed to go where…?"
"The Dome. It's what locals call Gloucester's Auction Hall, which is also where Murian resides and where Glocuester's bell of pilgrimage."
"Wait, bell of pilgrimage?" Kay asked as Habetrot stared at him with wide eyes.
"You are serving the Child of Prophecy and you don't know the bells of pilgrimages?"
"No? What are they?"
"The bells are what the child of prophecy must do as a part of her journey. Artoria must ring the six bells of pilgrimage across Faerie Britain to complete a pilgrimage and defeat Morgan. All of these bells are a way for the clan leaders of Britain to accept the Child of Prophecy as the one who will lead the fairies to salvation."
…Oh. Kay thought. He did not know why he hadn't found out about the bells sooner, because they were extremely important.
"In that case, where are the other bells located…"
Habetrot frowned. "One is in Gloucester, another in Norwich, one in Salisbury, one in Orkney, One in Oxford…while the last one was in the Mirror Clan's capital Carlisle that is completely destroyed. So, we no longer have six bells."
"Did Aesc have to do this?"
"She did. She and Grímr first rang the bell of Oxford, and ever since then she'd had a comparatively good relationship with the fang clan…"
That has manifested into the high regard Morgan holds the Fang clan to and why the Fang clan is the largest contributor to the Imperial army at Camelot. Kay thought.
In the end, they were going to stay at the Dome, Gloucester's auction hall. If they could get an audience with Murian, they could further know more about the bells…
Although after the disaster at Salisbury, I don't have the confidence to do something like that. Kay thought.
As they moved on, Kay's eye caught someone moving on the streets.
Oberon.
Puck's rival was staring at him, before he smiled and continued walking.
I do not like Oberon. It really feels like he's been stalking us since Salisbury. Kay thought.
Could he be working for Morgan?
Could it be…
Oberon is responsible for the ambush at the Cathedral? Kay thought. Although it was a hunch based off of little information, it made sense in an odd way.
And if it was true, Kay needed to do something about Oberon.
But at that moment, for a split second, Kay spotted a second person shadowing Oberon.
"Huh?" Kay blinked, and the person was gone, no traces of their appearance remaining in Kay's mind.
"I guess my eyes are playing tricks on me." Kay muttered.
That evening, everyone had arrived at The Dome, with one Baobhan Sith among them.
Sith had booked a room at The Dome, and a ticket for a front row VIP seat for the bidding, so for the moment, she was in said room reading the brochure for the items for the auction.
She was not interesting in anything else but the Child of Prophecy.
She wanted the pig and she was going to get her.
"I'll drag her to Camelot and get Woodwose off my skin." Sith growled as she glared at the brochure.
Murian had deliberately left out a picture of the child of prophecy, which could mean it was a scam.
But I don't care! I've got the money, and I'd rather put in a little Morpounds into a possible scam then having it actually be the pig and given to someone else. Sith thought before looking out the window of her room.
"Perhaps you don't need to kill to be happy, Lady Sith."
"I still don't get what you're saying George." Sith spoke.
Mother said that she needed to inflict as much pain as possible to be able to be lively, to have fun and be able to live her life in the world, and Sith didn't need to say how much it had worked wonders for her.
She knew only three people who she saw wanted her to be happy - Mother, Lord Gut and George.
Sith always felt nice when she saw her mother nod in acknowledgement whenever she accompanied her to punish any fool that decided to challenge her. It made her heart flutter with joy. Despite her love for blood and killing, she enjoyed Mother's smile back when she'd found her.
Lord Gut also happily encouraged her, teaching new and fun ways to make it even more painful for fairies and humans, giving her even more nourishment than before. She couldn't thank him for his advice and how much it had helped her. While she didn't feel that same warmth from Lord Gut's smile like she saw from Mother's.
It felt so good seeing them pleased with her. It hurt when she saw Mother's normally serene face stare at her with a cold expression as she put her under the mutt's command. It hurt when Lord Gut didn't stand up to help her and shifted away.
But she always forgave them. In the end, both of them wanted her happiness, and silly punishments can't change that.
But George…she never really found out why her human slave never showed as much pride towards what she did. He always showed indifference or disappointment whenever she presented the heads of any troublemakers to him. Despite all his jokes, Sith had seen her faithful servant lose his cheer over the years, even after all the times she took him to the Slaughterhouse and made him Head of its Morgue.
Not to mention George taught her things that seemed so insane that she only did it because George was asking her to. Patching up people, administering medicine…all to make people feel better instead of increasing their pain.
How could she do that if her victims were calm and happy? How could she receive the nourishment she needed?
But that is the case. I did feel slightly rejuvenated whenever I came to parties with people dancing and drinking. Sith thought, putting her hand to her forehead.
"Ugh, this is all so confusing…" She spoke. George's words had really thrown her for a loop.
But as confusing as it was, Sith felt her curiosity grow.
"I wonder…" She spoke looking at her hands.
Sith brought out failnaught and plucked its strings, producing a soft tune, even though Sith really had no interest towards music. She never really understood why people seemed to enjoy music so much.
George said the music would help stir up the emotions she so needed to consume, but Sith never really felt anything like that.
On the other hand, crushing fairies and humans under her heel gave her a lot more satisfaction.
It was always the same. Just…no satisfaction from the music.
Sith shook her head. "George…I don't know what you're trying to go with your words." She spoke.
Sith played for a few more minutes before she felt it was time to stop.
"Alright, I should get ready for auction now." Sith spoke, smiling, as she put away Failnaught…
Wait.
Smiling?
Sith felt her body was a bit more relaxed and a lot less drowsy from the long trip. She felt like skipping across the Auction Hall grounds.
It's the same feeling I have when I'm cutting up fairies into pieces. Sith thought.
But she wasn't even thinking of killing anyone. She was just thinking of…
She heard a knock on her door and walked up to it.
She opened it to reveal a human maid holding a plate of snacks and tea. The maid was smiling wistfully, before noticing Sith and immediately stiffening, her eyes growing slightly wide with fear.
"My evening snacks?" Sith spoke as the maid nodded.
"Y-Yes, Y-Your H-Highness." She stammered as she walked in, shuddering with the plate trembling on her hand.
She's trembling too much… Sith thought, walking up and snatching the plate from the maid's hands.
"Y-Your H-Highness…"
"You're shaking like a leaf, maid. I'll put it down before you spill my delicious tea." Sith grumbled as she put down the snacks as the maid stood fearfully.
Sith began plucking Failnaught's strings again, and found herself perplexed to receive the same warm feeling of nourishment again.
Sith frowned and caste a side glance to the maid, who had that same smile on her face.
"Maid…Are you from Darlington?" Sith asked as the maid's eyes widened.
"U-Um…yes, Your highness. Abhartach road…"
"That explains it. I played a simple tune from the local bards at New Darlington. Only someone who's lived in Darlington can recognise it." Sith spoke.
The maid nodded shakily. "I-It was quite b-beautiful…"
Sith stopped.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the maid and walked up to her.
"What did you just say?" Sith asked as the maid whimpered.
"F-Forgive me, your highness! I-I said something so offensiveandithinkideserveaseverepunishment…"
"Cut out your babbling!" Sith snapped as the maid whimpered again.
"What did you just say?" Sith spoke as the maid looked at her.
"T-That…your tune was…beautiful? It…It remind me of home." The maid asked as Sith stared at her.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Leave." Sith spoke as the maid promptly bowed and left.
"She said it was…beautiful?" Sith spoke sitting back down on her chair and sipping her tea.
"But why did that make me…happy?" Sith spoke, looking out her window at the lights of Gloucester's houses.
Gloucester's auction hall was massive. It was designed like an amphitheatre with rows of streets that seemed to stretch on and on, but was partitioned between those who were going to participate in the bidding and those would only observe from the side such as lucky civilians who had bought the tickets to the Gloucester Auction Night.
Below the stage, Kay could see a glass under which an entire orchestra of humans played music.
There was also a balcony above the stage with an elaborate small throne and a bell on the railing, but Kay couldn't see a way there so he assumed it was Murian's seat. Below that was a red banner with a Griffon holding a book emblazoned in gold on it - The Banner of Gloucester.
Kay, Habetrot, Helga and the Silent Knight sat in their seats.
"Alright, time to bid." Kay spoke.
"Have you done anything like this, Kay?" Helga asked.
"I haven't, but Camulodonum and Londinium had plenty of old Roman Auction Halls. I've been to some of them with Artoria after Vortigern's defeat." Kay spoke.
"No. But I'll treat it like I'm bargaining for something." Kay spoke. "I just have to convince Murian with the most amount of Morpounds and we'll get them."
"Of course, the problem will be…her." Kay spoke, spotting Tam Lin Tristan sitting off to the distance.
Kay was hoping that any of the Tam Lin did not stop by Gloucester to get the Fake Child of Prophecy, considering the trouble that it would cause, but oh well…
"We'll see when it comes." Helga spoke assuring him.
At that moment, notice the hall go dark and all spotlights pointed at the same balcony above the stage.
Soon, Kay spotted a small fairy with green wings and purple hair flutter down from above, softly sitting down on the seat.
So this is Murian, the head of the Wing Clan. Kay thought as Murian's gaze swept across the hall with a smile that gave Kay a slight shiver.
I am not getting any sort of positive vibes from her smile. Kay thought. He immediately saw what kind of a person Murian was. That posture, that smile…Murian was someone who loved playing chess.
Which at least meant she wouldn't be bull-headed as to attack them. Kay knew people like that always sought to see the value in everything around them, whether friend or foe. If Murian saw value, she would certainly help them out. If she didn't…she'll throw them out of Gloucester.
For some reason, that gave him a little relief. They won't be repeating Salisbury, at least.
"Welcome one and all, to The Dome! I see many people have come from across Britain to see what I have to offer this time, and it is always a pleasure to see it continue that way. Of course, the only event more exciting than this will be the Faerium Ball that approaches soon. So please! Do come for that as well…" Murian spoke leaning forward.
"For we may be expecting a…royal guest."
Gasps erupted across the crowd.
"The High Queen is coming to Gloucester?!"
"Queen Morgan is coming out of Camelot…"
Kay could hear the whispers of the crowd around him, but kept his mouth shut.
"While usually, I go with the standard Gloucestershire format for Auctions, as you all know. But this time…I wish to make things interesting because of our special item. Henceforth, this shall be…an Anglish Auction!"
The crowd murmured in excitement.
"Bidders cannot see each other's bids and must place their bids simultaneously. Highest bidder shall purchase the iteam at the price given by the second highest bidder. It'll make the competition a lot. More. Interesting."
Kay blanched.
"There's multiple auction formats…?" He muttered. He was only familiar with the Roman one, and it was similar to how modern auctions are done in Proper Human History. He did not know of anything else beyond that…and he was not comfortable with participating in such an unfamiliar auction.
"Now, let us begin the preview period. Except for our special item that I have reserved for last, you may take a look at what The Dome has to offer this night."
All except the fake child of prophecy. I do wonder if Murian's allowed to do this. Kay thought as all the items were put up on display.
"Now, please write down your names or the names of the person you are representing for this auction." Murian spoke as sheets of paper and pens appeared out of nowhere on the desk.
Kay blinked and wrote down Boggart's name before he noticed Murian looking at him with interest.
"All done? Good. Let the auction begin." Murian spoke with a smile before the bell rung.
Many valuable artifacts were brought up for bidding, but Kay went for none of those, staying silent as people put in their bids.
After each round, Murian would announce the highest and second-highest bidders and the person would pay the amount in the form of bags full of Morpounds.
At some points, Kay felt disgust when he noticed some items were extremely athletic human slaves, standing naked before the audience who simply put in their bids without a hint of care, whether fairy or human.
But in the end, Kay had seen very unpleasant things get sold at the auctions held by magi in Londinium. Human body parts, demonic beast organs, young children for experimentation…they were all sold to magus families who came to put their bids in the halls of the ancient Temple of Mithras in which the auctions were held. As disgusted as he was, it was slightly better than defiling Mithraeum auctionarium.
Kay looked at Tam Lin Tristan in concern, who didn't seem to putting in any bids, meaning she was also saving up for the fake child of prophecy.
Damn it. This is not going to be good. Kay thought as the auction went on, both Kay and Tristan sitting quietly, unaware of the possible confrontation that was coming.
Finally. Sith thought as the second-last item was sold off to some random businessman from Norwich.
As the item was halled away, a cage draped in a red velvet cover came up, pushed by human slaves who stood by it.
"And now…for our final article." Murian spoke as a drum roll began.
"The Child of Propheecy, as many from the area claimed. They are from distant lands, with a skill for smithing and wielding a strange blade!"
Sith blinked before scowling.
Murian…you scoundrel. Sith thought, even though it was to be expected. It was good that she had seen the pig once. She knew this 'Child of Prophecy' wasn't the pig.
"But oh well, let's see who this…" Sith's voice died down as one of the human slaves pulled down the velvet cover to reveal the same assassin who'd bested her and Gawain and almost killed Mother.
Helga gagged and fell back on her seat.
"Helga, Helga!" Kay spoke shaking her as Helga's eyes rolled up her head.
"Myrka guðinn…" Helga muttered.
"Fimbulvetr…"
"Óðinn syni…"
Kay looked back at the cage to see…a servant. A tall young man with red hair and brown trousers and sandals, draped in a white cloak and a red sleeve on his left arm, holding a katana.
But the man's eyes were covered by a black rag, indicating he was blind.
However, that did not help the fact that Kay could now feel the immense power coming off him.
Sith immediately stood up as she sensed the danger coming from the 'child of prophecy'.
"Thank you, Lady Murian." The assassin spoke before raising his right arm. The assassin's hand formed a dark ball of energy before he clenched his fist.
…And the entire auction hall went pitch black.
A/N: Gods...quite a chapter. I had to research auctions and auction procedures because I wanted it to be a bit accurate to how auctions are conducted in real life and not just go 'hurr durr, throw as much money as you can!' type of thing. Plus, I found out that the Ancient Greeks and Romans also held Auctions, so neat.
And also...you guys can pretty much see where I'm going with Baobhan Sith's character, bringing in another OC - George Rae. Ok, he's not a complete OC. George Rae is a historical character who was basically a plague doctor in Edinburgh during the Great Plague of London, although he didn't really accomplish much aside from just surviving the plague and recording the deaths of patients in Edinburgh. So, think of this George Rae as a Lostbelt counterpart, serving as Baobhan Sith's personal servant. I introduced him because I noticed that Barghest and Melusine had some companion who was the opposite of them (Adonis and Percival), yet the pairs cared about each other. Sith had Beryl, but he was more like a manipulative bastard who played her for his own amusement than a companion who genuinely wants her upliftment. Hence, I introduced George - A mortician dressed like a plague doctor who will serve that role.
Again, Sith and George's relationship will be further expounded on in the Darlington chapters.
Moving on from that, I've started learning Icelandic, because If you haven't noticed, I am obsessed with Norse culture, and after dabbling in Norse myths, I'm now ready to take the next step of learning the languages. that means Helga can speak more norse sentences later on.
Hope you guys enjoyed and constructive criticism is appreciated!
Foot Notes:
Jenkins tube: Invented by a human doctor named William Jenkins in 1726 EoHQ, the Jenkins tube is usually used by many surgeons in checking for mors corruption in fairies. The Jenkins tube is a long iron pipe with a stone capsule at the tip containing fairy blood. The Doctors usually use magecraft to see further into the anatomical structure of their patients, and probing with a Jenkins tube allows them to see the mors ether glow due to reaction from the ether towards the blood. The Jenkins tube made it much easier for doctors in Darlington to extract Mors ether from patients.
Darlington Medical College: The Darlington medical college was established by Lord Grimalkin in 1001 EoHQ during the Mors war to train doctors for treating soldiers afflicted by Mors curses. The doctors were always human, who were trained in field medicine to provide first aid to the injured on the battlefield. The doctors carried iron blades for cutting down any mors that tried to attack them on the battlefield, and a box containing their tools for immediate surgical operations. Despite their work, the Darlington doctors were skilled in combat and magecraft and are not to be taken lightly.
Aberdeen: The fields of Aberdeen are personally owned by Cnoc Na Riabh, the only place where chocolate is grown in Britain. the fields have a port that send ships down to Norwich, from where wholesalers buy bulks of chocolate to sell them to retailers in Faerie Britain's largest cities. Aberdeen chocolate comes in multiple flavours, all from Cnoc Na Riabh's personal orchards in Edinburgh.
Bogdwellers: A derogatory term for Northern fairies, referencing the swampy nature of their lowland homes north of the Warrington Belt.
Murian's Secrets: Gloucester's most popular magazine, read by as high up as the Patrician fairies of Camelot.
The Dome: The local name for Gloucester's auction hall, due to it having the largest domed structure in all of britain. The hall itself was built in 1800 EoHQ by Murian as a part of her campaign to beautify Gloucester and move it away from its desolate look. It also serves as Murian's residence and the bell tower of the Gloucester Bell of Pilgrimage.
Gloucestershire Format: The Gloucestershire format of Auctions is what is called in Proper Human History, an 'English Auction'. In an English Auction, the bidder compete with each other by putting in higher and higher bids. Highest bidder purchases the item.
Anglish Auction: An Anglish auction is the lostbelt counterpart of what is called a second-price sealed-bid auction, where bidders do not announce their bids and hence cannot know each others amount. Henceforth, the bidders are to put their bids in simultaneously. The item will be sold to the highest bidder at the price set by the second-highest bidder. In Faerie Britain, the Anglish auction was developed in Norwich by Spriggan.
Mithraeum: A temple to the Iranian God Mithras who was worshipped by cults in Roman territories. London's Mithraeum was excavated in the 1960s. I made up the stuff about the magus auctions. There's no proof anything like that actually happened.
Camulodonum: Known as Colchester in Essex in the modern day.
Response to Reviews:
Awarboah: It is quite a shame when that happens. But don't worry, I'm not like that. I'm going to finish almost all of the fanfics I've started so far (4 in total), no matter how long it takes.
TalonScythe: Great. Glad to know the sttrategy worked.
NotSpecialDude: Yep, I've made the correction. And again, don't worry. I know you mean well with your corrections, so a little harshness doesn't hurt.
Seeking the Miraculous Dream: I just like brother-sister dynamics in stories (Not the 'brocon' or 'siscon' ones). I guess It's mostly because I'm an only child and always felt sad not having a sibling (I would have loved to have a little sister).
King0fP0wers: Yeah, I didn't know that. I just looked at the name Wryneck and went 'Ooh, that's the name of a bird!' and made Wryneck a Birdman. But not going to lie, I kind of prefer Wryneck being a birdman than Woodwose Sr., so I'm sticking with that.
Also, none taken. Helga is a complete OC, and I know just how much OCs are disliked in fanfiction. I'm not really surprised you didn't like her. In fact, I am happy you didn't. That just gives me the extra challenge of making Helga likeable as the story goes on and give her interesting plot twists for interactions. Same for the Silent Knight.
Kleave Guy: Ah yes. The two tall Round Table Knights meet. In all honesty, Welsh lore says Kay can increase his size and reach gigantic proportions, but I won't go with that. And considering Kay is the tallest knight, even taller than Gawain, I think he would either be Barghest's height or slightly shorter than her.
Junior: Of course, of course. I am going to take Castoria down a different route of combat and power...to the point she may not be even called 'Castoria' any more. But she definitely will be a badass by the end.
Glad to see I've got you suspicious. That means I can start playing mind games with you and the readers.
As for Habetrot...I corrected that mistake. NotSpecialDude pointed that out as well.
AstolfoBrHue: Muchas gracias, mi amigo.