Chapter 72. The Wrong Knight
Ron Weasley stood on the porch of his family's house, looking out at the field that surrounded the Burrow. He held a small silver coin in his hand, which was his catalyst for summoning a Servant in the Holy Grail War. He had tried activating it several times already, but nothing had happened. He began to doubt if he would be able to participate in this war that was raging in the world of mages. He knew that the Death Eaters were also searching for the Grail and that he needed to stop them. But how could he do that without a Servant?
He sighed and rubbed the coin again. Suddenly, he felt the air around him grow dense and heavy. He watched as a bright light burst forth from the coin, forming a large circle on the ground. Ron recoiled, unable to believe his eyes. He could hear strange sounds emanating from the circle, as if someone were muttering in an unfamiliar language. He felt an invisible thread connecting him to something inside the circle. He realized that this was a summoning.
He tensed, expecting to see his Servant. He hoped that it would be someone strong and wise, who could help him in this war. He thought about which legendary heroes could be his Servants. Perhaps it would be Hercules or Achilles? Or maybe it would be Merlin or King Arthur? Ron had always loved stories about the Knights of the Round Table and their quest for the Holy Grail. Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation in his left hand. He lowered his book and saw an unfamiliar symbol on his wrist – a red cross within a circle.
But when the light in the circle subsided, Ron couldn't believe his eyes. Standing before him was a girl of sixteen or seventeen, dressed in shining armor and wielding a massive sword. Her long blonde hair was braided, and her face bore an expression of pride and disdain. She looked at Ron with her green eyes and spoke in a cold voice:
"I am Mordred, the Knight of Betrayal and daughter of King Arthur. I am your Servant, of the Saber class."
Ron felt his jaw drop. He couldn't believe that out of all the possible heroes, he had summoned Mordred – the most evil and treacherous of all the Knights of the Round Table. The one who killed her own father and attempted to seize the throne of Britain. How could he have summoned such a Servant? What part of him was like a traitor?
"You... you..." Ron stammered, unsure of what to say.
"What are you muttering, boy?" Mordred sneered at him. "You – my Master?"
"Yes... no... I mean..." Ron blushed, feeling foolish.
"Are you such a weakling that you can't even answer a simple question?" Mordred scornfully snorted. "How do you expect to fight in the Holy Grail War if you can't even control your own Servant?"
"I... I don't know..." Ron hung his head, feeling even worse.
"You don't know? You don't know?!" Mordred raised her voice, irritably stepping closer to him. "Then why are you here? Why did you summon me? What do you want from me?"
"I... I wanted..." Ron tried to explain, but couldn't find the right words.
"What did you want? To become a hero? Save the world? Obtain the Holy Grail?" Mordred mocked him. "Do you think I will help you with that? Do you think I will obey you?"
"Well... yes..." Ron answered hesitantly.
"Oh, what a misconception!" Mordred laughed. "I serve no one but myself. I acknowledge no authority but my own. I desire nothing but the throne of Britain and the death of Arthur Pendragon. I am Mordred, the Knight of Treachery! I don't need your help, and you don't need mine!"
Ron felt his breath catch. He realized he had made a terrible mistake. He had summoned a Servant who was his enemy. He had summoned a Servant who was more dangerous than the Death Eaters. He had summoned a Servant who could kill him at any moment. He looked at Mordred and asked:
"Then why don't you kill me right now?"
Mordred looked at him in surprise. She noticed that he was not afraid of her. He was bewildered and stunned, but not frightened. She felt some curiosity and interest towards him. She replied:
"Because I want to know how you summoned me. What catalyst did you use? What traitor-like qualities do you possess?"
Ron showed her the coin in his hand. He said:
"This is a coin from my father's collection. He sometimes collects coins from different countries and eras. This coin is from the time of King Arthur. It was made from the silver mined during the search for the Holy Grail. It possesses a special magical power that attracts heroes from that time. I thought it would help me summon someone from the Knights of the Round Table. But I didn't expect it to be you."
Mordred snorted disdainfully and examined the coin closely. She recognized Arthur's crest on it - a golden dragon on a red background. She felt anger and hatred towards her father ignite within her. She said:
"So, you stole this coin from Arthur? You stole his treasure? You dared to defile his memory?"
"No, no, I didn't steal anything!" Ron quickly objected. "I didn't know it was his coin! I just took it from my father! It came to him by pure chance! He didn't know it held such significance!"
"Liar!" Mordred yelled at him. "You lie, like all traitors! You wanted to use this coin for your own selfish purposes! You wanted to obtain the Holy Grail and become the new King of Britain!"
"No, no, that's not true!" Ron continued to deny. "I don't want to be king! I don't want the Holy Grail! I just want to save my friends and family from the Death Eaters!"
"Death Eaters?" Mordred asked, slightly surprised. "Who are they?"
Ron realized that Mordred was unaware of the current situation in the wizarding world. He decided to try to explain to her:
"Death Eaters are evil wizards who serve a dark lord named... named... his name is..."
"Don't stall!" Mordred grew furious and grabbed Ron by the cheeks, forcing his face closer to hers so that he could see every lash on her eyelids. "Tell me, what is that bastard's name!"
"Vo..." Ron noticed Mordred's eyes turning red and her fingers firmly gripping his cheeks. "...Voldemort. He wants to destroy anyone who disagrees with him or who is not pure-blooded. He has already killed many people, including my friend's parents. He wants to seize power over the entire world and become immortal."
Mordred calmed down and released him.
"Voldemort?" she repeated the dark lord's name with disdain and smirked. "What a silly name! And what a silly desire! How can he think he can become immortal? It's impossible! The only way to achieve immortality is by becoming a Servant!"
"A Servant?" Ron didn't immediately understand what she meant.
"Yes, a Servant!" Mordred nodded. "A Servant is what I've become!"
Ron was astonished by her words. He had never heard such a definition of a Servant. He had never before wondered where Servants came from. He asked, "How did you become a Servant? When? Why?"
Mordred looked at him sadly. She answered, "I became a Servant after I died. I died by Arthur's hand on the battlefield of Camlann. I died trying to conquer the throne of Britain and kill my father. I died without achieving my goal and fulfilling my dream."
Ron felt sorry for Mordred. He couldn't imagine what it was like to die so young and so unhappy. He asked, "And what happened next?"
Mordred looked at him with melancholy. She replied, "I participated in many Holy Grail Wars. I fought against many Servants. I tried to obtain the Grail. But I never reached my goal. I always lost. I always died."
Ron felt even more pity and sympathy for her. He couldn't imagine what it was like to live forever and die countless times. He couldn't imagine what it was like to struggle for an unattainable dream and endure inevitable disappointment. He couldn't find words, yet...
"This time it will be different," he said, placing his hands on Mordred's right hand.
"No doubt!" she laughed spiritedly in response.
It happened in the summer. Now Ron gazed sadly out of the Gryffindor common room window. His gaze barely rose above the horizon, never for a second turning to the gray veil of the sky. From this fluffy height, white flakes slowly descended, as if a tragic omen of something terrible. Behind him, he heard someone's cheerful footsteps, and in the next moment, a familiar lively voice sounded.
"What are you sulking about?"
Ron turned around. At that moment, the door of the common room swung open, and a girl with sandy hair and green eyes entered. She was dressed in a red leather jacket, jeans, and boots. A massive sword with a crimson hilt hung on her belt.
"Mordred," Ron smiled.