Flashback…
Caster's body lay on the floor of the Kotomine Church. Her head lay on her master's chest. Both drenched the floor with the pool of their blood. Her hood was long removed to show her beautiful face as her eyes closed on its own. The last act of her life was gazing at her master's face.
"Are you alright, Rin?"
"Archer, what the hell is going on…?" Rin asked. Laying on the ground as she hasn't fully recovered from getting slammed onto a wall by a Caster-controlled Saber.
Shirou could only look on. Eyes wide at the man who mercilessly killed a defenceless Caster. What kind of hero would do something so cruel as what Archer had done?
"Well, it was a fifty-fifty chance, but it looks like it went well. Just like what I've predicted." Archer explained as he slowly walked towards Rin. Kanshou has already gone from his hands after being summoned by the servant to kill Caster.
"It appears that they weren't as strong as I thought. Caster and her Master's bonds made them lose their focus during this battle. A flaw that we've handily exploited in this situation." Archer then knelt in front of Rin in an attempt to help her up.
"How pathetic, that woman was." Archer added as he lifted Rin up onto his arms, "Her blindness from her foolish love dug her grave for her."
Rin could only look at her servant as she was raised from the ground. Not understanding what Archer is getting at. Shirou however, was livid. His teeth and hands clenched in anger. Righteous anger bubbling up in his gut. His wounds aren't something that he cares about right now, no matter how much it's hindering his ability to stand. This Archer is getting on his nerves!
"What the hell are you doing, Archer…?!" Shirou asked as he rose up from the ground at a slow pace. His battered body rebelling against his will to stand.
"Emiya-kun?!" Rin shouted as she turned her head from Archer's face to Shirou's direction.
"You defeated Kuzuki! It's over now. It Was Over. You didn't have to kill her… That was heartless of you…" Shirou could've said, 'cruel'. But, in the heat of the moment, 'heartless' was the best thing he could think of. Because what the red clad servant did was just that.
Heartless? More like, 'Unheroic'.
"Ha Ha Ha … Heartless? This naive brat." Archer said as he placed Rin on a random stool that he got from somewhere before approaching a struggling Shirou.
I really was naive, wasn't I?
"You-!" Shouted but was stopped by Archer's explanation.
"Looks like you don't understand anything, right? I'll tell you then… There was no command contract between Kuzuki and Caster since the very beginning. She didn't need his strength because of her reservoirs from devouring innocent souls. Do you get it yet, Emiya Shirou? If I let her live, she would have escaped and killed us. With the possibility of more deaths from her soul eating. How could I be heartless when I killed her with that in mind?" Archer frowned as he glowered at Shirou. Who was kneeling at this point.
He made sense back then… maybe I should've listened more.
"But Caster had lost the will to fight! It's natural… because she lost Kuzuki…" Shirou reasoned.
If I had, I probably wouldn't have been through that hell…
"You truly are an idiot, aren't you? Caster's true identity was Medea of Colchis. The Witch of Betrayal in Greek mythos. She killed her own children to enact revenge against her husband who abandoned her! If we let her live, her grudge would've driven her to the brink of insanity. And who knows what will happen then? She wields the power of the Ancient gods of Olympus. She could destroy the whole world with her full might."
"'Caster was defenceless and gave up the fight. So, I spared her life. I'm sorry that things turned out like this.' Is that what you want? When the inevitable happens and Caster goes on a rampage because you felt merciful, do you really want to spit out pointless apologies to those who she caused harm to? How can you live with yourself knowing that the 'goodness of your heart' was the reason someone's parent or child or sibling couldn't live to see another day?"
All I wanted was to be an ally of Justice, a hero like my father before me…
"Tch! You bastard…" Shirou growled.
"Let's end this now! If you really want to be an 'ally of Justice', this is the best solution for this problem." Kanshou and Bakuya suddenly appeared in his hands. His posture signalling that he's more than ready (and willing) to strike Shirou down.
"Sooner or later, your Naivety will make you end up with a mistake that you will regret for the rest of your life. And maybe… the lives of many will be lost because of that mistake. Rather than that happening…"
"I'll destroy you instead!"
You are no hero. You have no right to use the title, 'Ally of Justice'. Shirou Emiya…
Flashback end…
"I-I'm sorry. But, I do not understand-" Regulus started. Confused at the outburst of the redhead in front of him. While the rest of the people in the room -except for a select few - were terrified at the bone-chilling aura Archer was emitting right now.
"I believe you heard what I said. I do not want to be this 'hero' that you want me to be." Archer replied as he crossed his arms. Not caring for the fact that Mordred was looking at him with a perplexed expression underneath her helmet.
"...But why? You could be a symbol for these people. You know the effect you have on my people. They look to you as a saviour! Why say no to the chance of being one now?" Regulus reasoned. While he was an old man now, it still didn't change the fact that first and foremost: he was a politician. And he knew what icons do to the populace. Especially famous and well liked ones. His son, Aurelius, and King Arthur being chief examples to this claim.
"As much as I see the merit in your words, Lord Regulus. I am afraid I cannot accept your proposal. With the simple reason being: I am not what you say I am, nor do I desire to be. Why not make Sir Gawain over there your 'hero'? He is more fit to the role than I will ever be." Archer countered.
Truth be told, Archer wasn't sarcastic when he suggested Gawain. Because it was a fact that in the Throne of Heroes, Gawain was in a higher tier than him when it comes to fame, skill, and prowess. He could rally the people in a better manner than Archer ever could. That, and the fact that Archer rejects the notion of ever being a hero. Those 'heroic' feats that he did in the past weeks were all out of necessity and nothing else. Also, the thought of being a mascot that will be inevitably paraded around the city to galvanise the people is something that pisses him off. No way in hell does he want that.
Fortunately, Regulus was not stubborn. He understood that this 'hero thing' was affecting Archer in a personal way. Maybe he had some grievances with people who call themselves heroes? Maybe he despises the notion of one? Maybe he simply does not agree with the idea, period? Whatever it may be, it was affecting Archer significantly enough to not like the hero idea altogether. Might as well change his plans before it antagonises the redhead - a thing Regulus does not want. Ever. Not after hearing the tales of his power and strength.
"Very well. I will not force you, Sir Archer. But, I urge you to reconsider." Regulus started but was stopped by Archer.
"I have reconsidered. And my reply to your proposal is the same." Archer stubbornly replied. Looking to Mordred to back him up in some way. Mordred responded accordingly, albeit confused with the whole situation.
"No is a no. Lord Regulus. And I'm more than willing to back my friend up on this." Mordred said as her gaze went from the Roman to the redhead.
'I don't know what's going on with you. But I've got your back. But,you've gotta pay me back for this shit.' Mordred said with a look towards Archer. The reply she got was a quick nod.
"Then I will drop this issue permanently. We have more pressing matters at hand." Regulus acquiesced. And with a look to Gawain and Faust, the conversation shifted to another topic.
"Indeed. We must begin with the report on the fortifications. I need 4 more days, and the northeast gate will be properly secured… However, the Southern walls are difficult to reinforce because of… ." Gawain said as he distributed the maps to the men in the room to properly organise. The rest of what he said was drowned out by the movement and chatter of the other leaders inside the chapel. Faust and the rest of the 15th Cavalry were by Gawain's side helping him out. Meanwhile, Archer quietly snuck out of the stone church. Successfully so, since no one but Mordred who was beside him noticed him go out. But as she began to turn and follow him outside, Gawain called out to her.
"Sir Mordred, I need your assistance in this matter." Gawain said as he pointed to Levi and ordered him to grab a chair for Mordred to sit beside him.
"Can it wait?" Mordred asked. Her hand was already at the door handle. Intent on following
Archer outside to figure out what the fuck just happened to him back there.
"No, Sir Mordred. The soldiers will be called in 2 hours. You have to be briefed of their current situation to fully understand what needs to be done to prepare them for the fight." Gawain then looked to where Levi was and grabbed a piece of parchment from the Lieutenant's open hand.
"We shall start with the identities of the commanders of each company." Gawain then laid it out on the big table and started telling Mordred the names of each and every one of them. Mordred at this point relented to Gawain's call and walked to where Gawain was to get a better look at things. Knowing that some things are more important for later.
'This is gonna be one long heck of a day, that's for sure.' Mordred thought as she slumped on her offered chair - the one beside Gawain's.
2 days later… Londinium… The Halls of Nero
"My fellow brethren. We stand in the most opportune moment. Our enemies have set their sights on our land, our families, our homes. They will not stop their savagery until all that we have is taken from us!"
"I agree with King Urien. The Saxons have already encroached far enough into our land. Along with the Angles. However, my focus is set on the Saxons. Mercia and Londinium are the two Kingdoms that are closest to them after all, so eventually, I would come to side with reason. Their raids against my people have gone far enough! They pose a threat to not only my lands but to all of us. If we do not unite now, then we will fall one by one until there is only destruction left."
Arturia could only watch in slight irritation as Urien and Cnebba slowly but surely drew the other minor lords to their side. With Mercia and Cornwall backing Londinium's cause, 3 of the 5 most powerful rulers within the conference are for the cause of war. As she watched the Kings of Dyfed and Strathclyde converse with their followers, she knew that they were buying what Urien and Cnebba were selling. Iseult still support's Arturia's cause, but her camp is divided in half due to the ambitious and opportunistic amongst her ranks. Maeglwn of Gwynedd has stayed neutral - neither for nor against the issue. The only other good thing Arturia has going for her at the moment.
Due to what she could only surmise as a secret conversation between Nero and the two rulers standing before the rest of Britannia's rulers, her cause for peace between the Brythons and the Saxons is slowly being undermined.
How could she claim that Nero had something to do with this sudden change of opinion from the Mercian and the Cornish rulers? Because the self proclaimed Imperatrix of Rome was smiling like she was given a brand new toy to play with. And her sly grins toward the High King's direction when Arturia feigned ignorance spelled skullduggery of the most dishonourable degree.
The King of Knights could only sigh as she felt the compass of fate point ever so gradually to the warpath once again. She had had a decade of peace after the War of the 12 Lords. Her people prospered alongside that peace. And this damned meeting bould bring an end to that peace should things go horribly wrong for her. She wasn't blind. She knew that war was on the horizon. But the thing is, it was on the horizon. Not on the forefront, on the horizon.The prospect was far enough into the future that she could've fixed up her armies and solved the problems Palamedes told her in that timespan and still have 2 to 3 years to spare. But no, these hot blooded, ambitious, self centred rulers did not see that Camelot was as unprepared for a fight as an unarmoured knight. Or so she thinks.
It needs not be said that Arturia's calculations were wrong. In her perspective, the War of the 12 Lords was The War of her lifetime. Like World War 2 was for our forefather's generation. Something that secured peace for a decade now and probably a century. Her confidence that peace could last was significant enough that she forsook the army and focused her attention more on her people and their prosperity. Sure, that netted the love of her people, but it also resulted in her armies lagging behind in development. Sure, the Knights of the Round are a formidable asset in Camelot's hands. But what are 12 knights gonna do against a horde numbering in the hundred thousands?
'Nothing. Because there won't be a war against the horde.' Arturia thought to herself.
"Brother in law. Young Cnebba. Heed my words well." Arturia rose up from her seat and calmly waited for not only Urien and Cnebba's attention. But everyone else in the room. She addressed the Cornish King and Mercian prince, but her eyes were set towards Nero. Challenging the startup Roman monarch to defy her.
"You have chosen your ambitions over the safety of your people the moment you have devoted yourselves to the cause of war. Know that you have neither protected your Kingdoms from the wrath of the Saxons. Rather, you are permitting the waves of damnation to flood your lands. Should this council of rulers pledge themselves to the destruction of our enemies, they in turn will swear to the destruction of everything we know and hold dear."
The High King paused to let her words sink in. And what she saw did not please her. While Queen Iseult smiled in agreement to her words, the Irish lords in the periphery frowned. The Kings of Dyfed and Strathclyde were sheepish once her gaze passed them, but their followers were glaring at her. Angered at her words perhaps. Maelgwn looked stone faced as ever. But he gave a brief nod towards Arturia's direction before glaring at Nero in disdain. But the last person - the King of Rheged - perplexed Arturia. For in his hands was a letter given to him by a female servant. And his eyes were bulging in fury. His hands crushed the parchment.
"King Rhun. Are you alright?" Arturia asked. Concern leaking through her words. Everyone in the room was curious about this development. Silently waiting for the monarch to reply.
The middle aged man known as King Rhun af Coeling looked at the High King. A myriad of emotions flowed through the man's face. Barely contained behind a grim frown of frustration. He opened his mouth, but closed it instead of replying. Unable to find the right words. After a few seconds of self deliberation. He replied,
"A band of Angles mixed with Saxon raiders invaded my capital. The date of the invasion was just 3 days ago. The letter was signed by my wife." King Rhun then glared at his feet. Nothing but fury coursing through his veins.
"This is exactly why we must act now! Now the Saxons have the Angles on their side! If we allow ourselves to be complacent with these heathens on our land, more attacks like what Rheged has gone through will happen. Frequently, might I add." Nero pounced the moment the news slipped from King Rhun's mouth. The King of Rheged looked at her and grimaced. But he nodded in agreement to her words afterwards.
"Something I can agree to, Imperatrix. I want these monsters to burn for what they've done." King Rhun said. Which caused Nero to smile brightly and Arturia to squint her eyes towards the man.
Nero was using the tragedy as fuel to ignite the flames of war amongst the rulers. Already confident that the King of Rheged is on her side after the devastation of his city. Morals weren't affecting her decision to do such a brazen thing. It simply didn't matter to her. What did matter to her was that she now has 3 Kings on her side. 4 Kingdoms in total. Cornwall, Mercia, Rheged and Londinium. But it's not enough. If Nero were to gain a significant majority in the meeting to call for a vote to finally decide on a course of action, she needed one or 2 more Kingdoms at her side. Eire wasn't looking like they would side with the war party any time soon. Neither was Gwynned. Dyfed - a client state of Camelot, but was powerful enough for Camelot to let them in the meeting and have a say in this matter - and Strathclyde were still debating amongst themselves in what to choose.
Meanwhile, on a long table at one side of the room, sat Princess Iseult and her uncle. To her left was Sir Palamedes. Adjacent to her were Lord Merlin, Sir Lancelot and Sir Bedivere. They were all watching the meeting unfold from afar because they weren't rulers of any degree. She could only watch in dismay as the war party was gaining ground.
"It's a losing fight, my lady. I hear rumours amongst the lesser lords that they are secretly supporting Nero's proposal. The Irish Princess turned to her left and saw Sir Palamedes with an outstretched arm with a goblet full of wine inside it.
The Saracen had taken up the task to cordially escort the lady around the meeting place when her uncle, Morholt, was busy talking with the Irish lords. He had impressed the Princess quite enough that she found him more than just a face she'll forget once this whole was over. Quite unlike the many suitors who fancied her back in Eire. It was refreshing for Iseult to have a man talk to her without feeling that she was being looked at in the wrong way.
"Thank you." Iseult said as she took the cup offered to her. She sighed in delight as the cool wine graced her lips. It was a delicious wine, for sure. Nero was very meticulous when it comes to drinks after all.
"I trust that the wine is to your liking, Princess?" Palamedes asked as he took a piece of bread from the table.
"Truly more so than this meeting. I cannot believe that it is going the way it is at the moment." Iseult replied. A frown of displeasure present in her features.
"The lesser lords have secretly sided with the war faction. But they pretend to be undecided in fear of King Arthur. They will show their true colours once a significant majority has risen to support the Imperatrix." Palamedes explained. Patiently observing the Princess at his side.
"So I've noticed. The King of Strathclyde isn't very good at hiding his emotions. When he heard the news of the fate of King Rhun's city, he almost jumped in joy. He was waiting for a just cause to side with the war faction because he too feared the High King." Iseult supplanted. Watching in ire as the subject of the conversation shifted about in his seat. Clearly happy about the transpired events.
"And with Strathclyde's willingness to side with Londinium, so ends the calm before the storm." Palamedes said as he chugged all of the contents of his flask into his gut. As he brought his hand down, he noticed that the Irish Princess suddenly became quiet.
"Is there a problem, my lady?" Palamedes asked with mild concern.
"...It's nothing, Sir Knight. I've simply been wondering about something…" She replied. A sly smirk gracing her features. Confusing the Saracen even more.
"And that would be?" Palamedes asked.
"What would happen if I stood up and gave my opinion?" She asked. Causing the Knight to widen his eyes in panic. Alongside him were Morholt and the other occupants of the table - except Merlin who was busy talking (flirting) with a handmaiden. The same handmaiden who gave the message to King Rhun.
"My niece! You cannot possibly do such a thing. Not without facing dire consequences." Morholt reasoned. Knowing that if Iseult wasn't stopped now, she would continue with her plan.
"Lord Morholt is correct, Princess. You mustn't act rashly. Not when a single disturbance could shift the tides of politics uncontrollably out of my liege's hands." Bedivere added.
"I am with you in this, Sir Bedivere" Lancelot replied. Having nothing else to add in the conversation.
"But we can't just sit here and do nothing!" Iseult protested.
"And yet that is all we can do in this situation, I am afraid." Palamedes said in dismay.
All of the Knights - and royalty - at the table stayed silent for a moment. A tense silence dawned upon them. For about a minute or so. Because Merlin finally finished talking to the handmaiden and returned his attention towards them.
"Right. Now that I've gotten all the information I need, I've positively come to the conclusion that there is something amiss in this meeting." Merlin told the group. Which caused them to look at the Mage weirdly.
"Other than what we've discussed, Lord Merlin?" Iseult asked. Hiding her confusion in a mask of pensiveness. The Knights and Morholt looked at each other warily as Iseult spoke. Because they fear the possibility of Merlin's machinations playing a disastrous hand in the meeting.
"If this is one of your tricks again-" Morholt threatened but was cut off by the Mage in question.
"Ease yourself, Morholt. I am genuinely sure that something is wrong here." Merlin said. Trying to douse the fire that is the Irishman's anger.
"Then what could you possibly be talking about?" Lancelot asked. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. It narrowed even more so when he waved his hand as if to tell all of them to come closer to him. As if what he was about to say was important enough that he needed only the people at the table to hear it.
"Look," Merlin started, his voice barely a whisper but very serious. "After talking to that servant girl from early on - the same one I was talking to while you were talking about politics. I had a glimpse of the future. Brief, yet clear enough to know what it means."
Everyone wanted to say their piece concerning this bombshell of a revelation. For the Knights of the Round, Merlin's clairvoyance meant that nothing good will occur. For the Irish Princess and her uncle, it meant surprise. Because while they heard of Merlin's reputation as a fearsome and learned Mage, never once did they hear anything about the man being a Seer. But before they could share their words to the table, Merlin raised his hand and stopped them right then and there.
"Now's not the time. You can save those words for later. Because I need your help. If we do not act now and discreetly…"
"Arthur Pendragon will die."
The same day… After sunset… Camulodunum.
The Witch Queen of Cornwall stood tall as the gates of the City of Camulodunum were opened for her. She was alone for this journey. Drecken was ordered by the Witch to attack the vulnerable towns at the border of Londinium and Hengist's Kingdom. But she explicitly stated to the tyrant that he should not, under any circumstance, make a move on Chelmsford. Once the battle over the city begins, will Morgan allow Drecken to wreak havoc.
Why go over the trouble in ransacking the countryside while leaving the one true threat - the bastion that is Chelmsford aside? Because it makes a hell of a story once the invasion starts. The Witch wants the tale of Chelmsford's demise to be sensational. A battle worthy of the ages. Sure, it's vainglory that could put her plans of becoming the true ruler of Britannia at risk. But why can't she indulge herself when the death of her wretched sister is at hand?
Morgan quivered for a moment as the thought of everything she deserved was taken from her finally coming back to her. The guards of Camulodunum that accompanied her to Hengist's headquarters noticed it. But nary a pause in their footsteps were observed. This caused the Witch Queen's elation to morph into indignation.
"How rude of you guards to leave my side when I stopped walking." Morgan said as she hastened her pace. Slowly drawling out her words in Old English.
"'Twasn't my fault, lady. Ye' stopped on yer own. Fe'gerd you'd foller alung, so we jus' continu'd." the guard to her left said. Completely unfazed at the menacing glare that was fixed upon him by the Witch. Who took a second to understand the accent of the guard. The man has a strange accent that makes it hard to understand his speech, you see.
But that didn't faze Morgan's desire to put this fool in his place.
"I will report this insolence to your King. I will also drink merrily at the thought of your head on a pike for this." Morgan threatened. A frown on her face and her eyes emitting a cold glare that struck the stubborn man. Who finally opened his eyes to the truth that he was fucked.
"Uh- uhm.. Oh. Meh apolojis' mam'. Wasn't intentional, I swear to Frigg." the guard managed to speak out. Wiping his cold sweat with his gloved hand.
"Good. You know your place." Morgan said with a sadistic glee. Sure, she could've just killed him on the spot for that insult. But, this was more enjoyable to her. Every Saxon man she had met turned to tools in her presence. Like Hengist. So, it was natural of the guard to cower in fear of her.
But do you know what else is more enjoyable to Morgan? That's right.
The very day the Saxons have no use for her. And therefore, their eventual destruction by her hand.
Her plan went like this: Start a war with the Saxons at her side. Give that Nero girl (who Morgan begrudgingly accepts that she looks kind of like Arturia) the necessary information to get the Imperatrix to agree to her wishes. Kill Arturia once she enters the thick of the fighting. Kill the Saxon brothers in their sleep and slaughter their people to end the war as quickly as possible. And finally, claim her birthright and Crown herself High Queen of Britannia with Mordred as her heir.
The thought of the corpses of her worst enemy and pathetic tools all in a mass grave of her own made her smile in a sadistic delight. An act that sent shivers towards those who walked passed them and saw it.
"We-we're' here, my lady." Said the second guard who stayed quiet throughout the whole thing. No one noticed it, but he peed himself a little when Morgan went all evil and malevolent.
"Hm?" Morgan looked forward and saw a great, dilapidated temple situated at the centre of the city. In front of it was a worn down statue whose arms were lost to time and body faded into obscurity. The face was barely recognizable under the night sky. The most intact part of the statue was the engravings on the base of the statue. It was in classical latin. A language Morgan knew at heart due to her pathetic teacher, Merlin.
Hic stat Claudius imperator. Cuius visio hanc urbem Victoriae suae custodit.
"Here stands Emperor Claudius. Whose visage watches over this City of his Victory." Morgan whispered to herself.
Her attention left the statue and towards the temple that was in front of her now. Inside this temple resided the many Saxon Lords who migrated to the British Isles alongside their leaders, Hengist and Horsa. All who are desperate to get this war going so that they can begin their all out plundering and conquest of the land. Morgan was here as a weapon's supplier of sorts. Except instead of swords and shields, she offers witchcraft.
How else did she make a ship the size of a man-o-war equipped with mana infused cannons that can tear down any fortifications from 20 kilometres? How else did she create a monstrous weapon out of Drecken - a man already capable of destroying villages on his own even before being cursed? How else did she create Mordred - her greatest treasure?
(If you answered 'sex' for that last part, congratulations. You missed the point.)
Moving on, Morgan here has the opportunity to play as the puppetmaster of both sides of the oncoming war. She has come this far and will notbe denied. As she entered the temple-turned-headquarters, Morgan thought one thing.
'Nothing can stop me now.'
But there was an inkling of doubt behind her thought. She cannot pinpoint what exactly is making her feel this way. However, she pushed that aside as she walked through the halls of the temple..
Little did she know that the cause of her doubt was about to face her weapon the very moment she opened the door to the meeting room.
Author's note.
Hi guys. So, I've come back from the grave. Hurray. The reason I'm gone is because of my research paper (Defense is next week.) So, once all that research thing is done, I can fully come back to the writing scene. (Hopefully). Also, I've decided that I wanted to keep the limit to 5k words a chap. So, that I can (again, hopefully) have a shorter chapter updating sched and less stress to write. The only thing I wish is that you bear with me.
One last thing before I go. I just wanted to thank all the support I've been getting. 1,500 Followers and 1,200 Favourites ain't something to sneeze at. I never expected to get this far. But here we are.
All in all… I love you guys. See ya soon!