Everything from this point on, is meaningless.
Saber Alter couldn't have echoed the sentiment any better as she balled her hands into fists and turned her gaze away from where she'd been eyeing Lily and Lancer Arturia a distance away. It would be a lie to say that she didn't entertain the idea of letting them experience what it felt like to have someone they cared for ripped away. It was vindictive and entirely petty, but the urge to do so grew more and more over the time she'd spent envying them after the incident with the Dragon.
Her thoughts were just as dark as she expected Lancer Alter's to be, as Lancer Alter was outright glaring right now, but the most unexpected reaction was Saber Arturia. She just sort of shut down after the whole thing and refused to talk with anyone or reveal anything in her expression. Instead, only a hint of frustration and anger would grace her features whenever Lily let slip about the life she was leading with her Shirou.
The compounding fact and bombshell that Lancer Arturia had started her own family already was a blow to the gut for all three of the Arturias who'd lost their loved one.
Lancer Alter had been the most affected at the news and couldn't bear to even look at her Lancer counterpart any longer lest she lash out.
Awkward would be the best way to explain the air between them all.
It was an unspoken acknowledgment, but a divide had formed between those that had lost their Shirou and those that didn't. No matter how well-intentioned Lily was in trying to cheer them up, it meant nothing coming from a person who still enjoyed the company of her Shirou.
-Absolutely nothing.
As the bitter days of watching the history of the original Arturia of this timeline progressed, half the audience was no longer paying attention. In any case, it wasn't as if their worlds were anything like the original anymore.
All that really mattered to Saber Alter was one goal whenever she'd drift to sleep.
[Vengeance.]
Saber Alter's World:
Four years into her reign and after her Shirou's death, and it was a common consensus within the country that the King was an awful tyrant. Saber Alter killed on a whim, and purged any towns or settlements rumoured to be harbouring a witch without mercy. This began an early start to an era of 'Witch Hunts.'
In this world, there was no round table, only the castle of Camelot ruled by its sole King.
Saber Alter didn't need her round table. She didn't even need any legions of loyal Knights. All that she needed was herself and her overwhelming magic energy to free the land of Saxon control. Unlike the past, she knew exactly where each Saxon stronghold would spring up, and which enemies to kill before they would become a nuisance. In this way, she'd systematically slaughtered all opposition, merely requiring soldiers to fill in her ranks and hold a military position or two.
Britain had ushered in an era of 'peace' formed from the blood of its enemies ever since the end of last year.
Seated alone in her throne in Camelot, Saber Alter looked dead to the world, only hatred and animosity guiding her forward. Pale skin, a merciless countenance, and a reputation that beckoned obedience through fear caused no one to truly trust in her.
It was the same. Everything was the same as before.
In this courtroom, where only she existed, she would rule alone, and would die alone, her citizens rejoicing at her passing despite her being the one to crush the country's enemies.
"Is this not enough?" A tired voice called out to her, prompting Saber Alter to glance at the corner of the room where a Wizard in white sighed listlessly. "I've grown tired of the spiciness of all this hate. This isn't what he would have wanted."
"Merlin," she said dangerously. "Don't speak as if you'd know. If not for her he'd still be here. Right here. R-Right here," she repeated, swallowing down her bitterness. "Here…here at my side," her voice almost broke before she steeled herself and glared. "If you have nothing important to report, then leave."
Merlin grunted, his staff tapping against the floor as he sighed in regret. "You have more visitors," he said offhandedly just before vanishing in a flurry of rose petals.
Saber Alter grimaced. More insurgents then? Have they not learned what it meant to oppose her and her hunt for the Witch Morgan? Very well, she was just feeling in the mood to release some stress.
The recent knowledge that Lancer Arturia was now a mother to children left Saber Alter imagining what her own children would have looked like in her arms.
She crushed the overwhelming misery growing from within her and converted it into fury. It was all the more reason to prop Morgan's head on a pike, but Morgan was too elusive even now.
Did Morgan not want the throne? WELL, HERE IT IS! Show yourself and die by my sword!
She was seething, her hand already drawing Excalibur Morgan as she exited the throne room and moved to where she could see a company of Knights that dared oppose her rule. All were helmeted and wearing full plate, but if one particular Knight stood out, it was the one in familiar red armour.
Saber Alter wouldn't mistake that armour anywhere.
Mordred. The one who'd manage to kill her in another timeline came to mind.
Saber Alter grunted. She wouldn't be the one dying today. Still, as her adversaries were subjects of her own land, she wouldn't needlessly kill them. After all, the kingdom still needed free labourers.
A Knight stepped forward to challenge her to a duel which she had no qualms accepting. They stood across from each other and stared each other down.
"My name is Sir-"
Excalibur Morgan blasted the Knight to crater into the far wall.
"Next," was all Saber Alter said.
The word echoed in the silent hall, its frigidness chilling everyone to their core. This was the sight of a tyrant who didn't even care for the name of the Knight she duelled. No one moved to volunteer, yet when Mordred looked like she was going to step forward, a helmeted Knight in ordinary plate stopped her.
It could have just been Saber Alter, but based on Mordred's posture and demeanor, was Mordred actually showing concern for another Knight? It was irrelevant.
This time, as the Knight moved to challenge her, he didn't make the same mistake as the prior Knight and wasted no time on pleasantries or stating one's name. A fight was all this was. If she were defeated, she'd vacate the throne. That was it. Plain and simple.
However, as the duel commenced, Saber Alter came to realize that her foe was different from others.
This one was quite skilled.
She weaved through his rather clumsy yet precise strikes, yet grew perturbed that he seemed to know exactly when she'd lash out to strike him. From the wonder she could feel from Mordred, this was a sight for her as well. Was this natural talent then?
Who are you? She narrowed her eyes. Lancelot? Gaharis? Percival?
With no Round Table who all eventually turned their backs on her, many famed Knights may have gone under the employ of other landed nobles.
She hadn't been using any magic energy as she didn't deem it worth it in this sort of confrontation, but there was something about this situation that was irking her in all the wrong ways.
This Knight's movements, though stiff and unrefined were familiar to her. Of course, the actions she remembered were done purposefully and with skill, but it was as if the Knight was pulling everything off from muscle memory alone.
Lancelot then. She could think of no one else as skilled as the Knight of the Lake to rely on just muscle memory to contend with her. Still, she wasn't quite sure.
In a spur of leniency born from curiosity, she withdrew her magical energy further to feign weakness and waited for an opportune moment to strike. Gaze hardening, she watched as the Knight over-extended before violently clipping her blade against the chin of his helmet, knocking it right off.
Instinctually, she knew this was the moment to end the fight while the opponent was dazed from the head blow, but her follow up strike never came. The sword simply would not swing, and in this time, the Knight delivered his own blow which ripped off Saber Alter's visor.
The Knight then stood just as frozen as Saber Alter before he clutched at his head, groaned in pain, and then abruptly passed out.
"You bitch! What did you do to him!" Mordred yelled hoarsely while the Knight's legs wobbled, moment's away from collapse.
Panic stricken, Mordred ran forward to catch the Knight, but she was beaten to the chase as Saber Alter caught him and hugged the Knight so tightly that she began to tremble. Her lips were quivering, and her mouth kept opening and closing before settling on biting down on her lips. She lost strength in her legs, and the two fell onto their knees.
With shaking hands, Saber Alter ran her fingers through the Knight's hair, then his face, desperately trying to verify the warmth she could feel.
As realization dawned, the first sob came, a lump forming in her throat as she embraced the unconscious Knight desperately, her forehead pressed against his, her eyes turbid from tears.
Everyone just froze, unable to process what was happening.
…Because more than anything, in a rare show of weakness, the heartless tyrant was openly weeping, not knowing the implication her discovery would have on the other disheartened Arturias.
Thanks for reading!
Note: Posting the previous chapters to get to the crux of the story which focuses on each Arturia for the coming update.
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