A GHOST IN A STRANGE LAND

CHAPTER 17

ORLEANS

APPROXIMATELY ONE HOUR AFTER THE BATTLE OVER CSEJTE CASTLE

Baldur's fist reduced a wall to rubble. "Stupid beast! It's lucky I still need it, or I'd tear it apart with my bare hands!" Seething, he reared back to take another swing at the wall, but a hand wrapped itself around his wrist.

Atalanta. "Baldur, calm down." For a moment, his fury surged to the forefront, but, as ever, the woman's patient eyes and gentle touch managed to soothe his bubbling rage. When she felt the tension leave his arm, she released his wrist.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you calm enough to listen, now, or do you need to go throw that Black Knight around for a bit until you are?"

Baldur took a deep breath, some part of him still overjoyed with the fact that he could feel the breath in his lungs - nevermind that Servants didn't need to breathe, after what felt like lifetimes with no sense of touch at all, every sensation now was something to be savored. "Talk. I'll listen." The Berserker would always be there afterwards if he still needed something to hit.

She gave him a considering look, then nodded - apparently he had passed muster. "How badly is Fafnir hurt? They know who you are now, which means they know how to beat you - we'd always planned on taking them out in the first encounter, before they had time to scheme up some way to get their hands on mistletoe, but now…."

She didn't need to spell it out. Kratos knew his weakness from their last encounter in their world - damn that mewling brat and his hidden barb. Even if he had broken the curse his thrice be-damned mother had put on him, that wound had led to his death - and had shown Kratos how to kill him here - for all that the tales of his family weren't quite the same in this strange world (who the fuck was this 'Loki' that kept showing up in the stories?), some things remained the same.

Like what the fatal weakness of this world's Baldur had been.

"He's not going to be able to fly for at least a day. Even beyond what that Servant did to him, he ripped his wings to shreds trying to get away. I can only siphon so much of the power off the Grail to heal him - too much, and the land will stop dying." And they couldn't risk that. Even a shoot of newly grown mistletoe would be enough to kill him, if it was used right.

Damn this world's version of his mother - for all that she'd managed a spell that didn't make living a complete nightmare, it made mistletoe into an even greater bane than it had been for him. If she wasn't already dead in this world, once Kratos was a broken corpse, he'd track her down and kill her too. A warm up for killing his real mother.

"So, then, that gives them a day." Atalanta pursed her lips. "They're not close enough to the border to get there in a day, so we should be safe."

Baldur sneered, though there was little bite in it. "You're forgetting that damn horse - Pegasus, I think?" The voices in his head he could deal with - this world's version of him hadn't said much since he'd established his dominance when they'd all first gotten thrown together in this body, and the Ruler's brother seemed to have tired himself out for now, but the information from the Throne was something he was still getting used to. He'd known Tyr had traveled outside the realms - it was one reason the All-Father had never trusted the late god of war, but he'd been largely ignorant of them in his life. But the second he'd laid eyes on that white, winged horse, suddenly his mind had been filled with the tale of a monster from lands far outside Midgard.

Medusa. A different kind of snake monster than the one that slept in the Lake of the Nine - and who he'd hurt trying to draw out his quarry and his whelp, but one that would have been seen as worth killing for the glory of it in his lands. Shame Servants didn't leave any parts behind - it wasn't really proper among Asgard's warriors to kill a monster like that and not bring back a trophy of your deeds.

Atalanta brought him back from his musings with a shake of her head. "No, you were too busy trying to reign in Fafnir, but I saw them get blasted from the air by Siegfried's Noble Phantasm. Even if they didn't fall far…..horses are shockingly fragile things in some ways, and being that close to a released Noble Phantasm couldn't have been good for him in his unreleased state." Had that been Pegasus released as Medusa's Noble Phantasm, that would have been one thing, but this was him merely as a means of transport - and while he lost none of the speed that was his birthright, he wasn't nearly as durable without a full release to power him.

"So, you think they won't be able to use him to rush across the border and gather up some mistletoe before our beast heals enough to fly again?"

"It's what my instincts are telling me. Normal horses can end up lame from a simple fall - now imagine a winged horse taking a tumble out of the sky from being too close to a wave of power like that." She shrugged. "And it's our only chance - if they have a day's respite to do nothing but skirt across the border and forage…."

She didn't need to elaborate. He might have belittled Kratos both before and after his death, but the man could fight. He'd beaten Baldur two separate times in Midgard - the last one leading to his death, and while he hadn't won their most recent battle, he'd escaped with his life. If he managed to lay his hands on the means to actually hurt Baldur, the odds looked grim.

"And the wyverns aren't smart enough to handle being told to patrol. Stupid things don't even understand 'borders' - and by sending them we'd be risking some other land summoning yet more Rogue Servants to interfere." Damn the man - he'd somehow stumbled into the perfect position to screw them over.

She gave him a half-smile. "If it's any comfort, I do feel good about my gut feeling here. While I never met the Pegasus while I was alive, it WAS from my lands - and I'm familiar enough with the legend to make guesses about its relative abilities. I don't think it was able to walk - or more correctly, fly away from that landing."

"If you're wrong….."

"Yes, if I'm wrong, we're all dead, and your mother will never pay for what she did to you." Her eyes turned cold and hard. "So, for all our sakes, let's hope I'm not wrong."

She blinked, as a flash of inspiration hit. "Actually, I might have an idea…"

CASTLE CSEJTE

"So, we're agreed?" Siegfried looked around the various people sitting at the massive table that made up Castle Csejte's dining hall. "An alliance between we three Rogue Servants and Chaldea, to set right the course of history."

Liz nodded enthusiastically. "No problems here! I get to fight alongside my spear bestie while we take our group on tour!" Avenger didn't even raise her head from where it was resting on the table, just gurgled something in response that sounded very, very defeated.

Mash beamed at the knight. "It's an honor to fight alongside you, Sir Siegfried."

"Seconded," chimed in Da Vinci from the communicator, which had been placed in the center of the table, allowing the observers from Chaldea to monitor the entire room. "It's nice to find some more allies, particularly ones as potent as the hero of Der Ring des Nibelungen. Particularly when the other side has his direct opposite working for them."

Siegfried bowed his head slightly. "Your words do me too much credit, fair ladies. I feel I must apologize for failing to slay Fafnir earlier when he presented himself before me."

"Oh Siggy-Woogy, always with the apologizing." Liz reached over and began to poke Siegfried in the side - an act that accomplished all of nothing, given the man's invulnerable skin - but it seemed to amuse the girl all the same. "I suppose I get the humility thing, but there's such a thing as taking it too far."

"Indeed," said Kiyohime. "And from what our new allies have told us, driving the dragon off was probably the best possible outcome." Her fan tapped on the table. "While Atalanta might have been killed, or injured in the fall, Baldur wouldn't have been. And none of us have a way to harm him. And while you're largely invulnerable, Dragonslayer, you aren't completely impervious to harm."

"That does seem to be the one hurdle we don't currently possess a means of overcoming," mused Medusa. "Baldur's legend makes it very clear what we need to kill him, but our access to it has been effectively cut off. And with Pegasus injured, it would take far too long to cross the borders of France and return - more so as we don't know how long it will take them to patch up Fafnir."

"If you could get me on the field, I could take care of him like that," Cu snapped his fingers. "Much as I might not enjoy being stuck as a stupid Caster, it's actually useful for a change, since that means I'm a freakin' druid. Mistletoe was KIND of important to us, and you can guess what my pouches are full of."

"Booze?" asked Da Vinci.

"No…..but yes, but also screw you." Cu paid no attention to his fellow Caster's laugh. "I've got all the standard druidic tools, and, you guessed it, mistletoe here. If you can get me on the field, I can take that bodysnatcher out of the game. Problem with that is…."

"Our only means of summoning you requires us to be in Orleans," stated Kratos.

"Yeah," Cu frowned. "Right in the damn belly of the beast. As far as plans go, it's only slightly less suicidal than trying to fight an entire army by yourself - and I don't think any of you are eager to emulate the way I went out. And I had an army I was buying time for, so me dying didn't cost us the war. We lose you guys, and it's game over, unless the girl in the coma wakes up sometime soon."

Jeanne looked out over steepled fingers. "The Servants they have, at least, aren't too formidable. Charles Henri-Sanson is fairly modern, and shouldn't be able to stand against anyone in this room - I feel I've recovered enough of my power by now that I should be able to handle him. Atalanta…."

She frowned. "Atalanta is dangerous, but…..again, as with Siegfried, I feel I know her - and that I've bested her once before, or at least was able to fight her evenly. Based on the Servants we have assembled here, I believe we would be able to defeat her. That only leaves…."

"The Black Knight," stated Siegfried. "I crossed blades with him once before, after the first time the Dragon Witch and I clashed. His madness has robbed him of none of his skill, and combined with his ability to turn anything into a weapon…..are you quite certain you were never able to discern his identity, Avenger?"

"I got nothing," said Avenger, still not raising her head. "And believe me, I've tried to remember something about that fucker, but that armor and that mist of his obscured EVERYTHING. And he was so batshit he couldn't manage much other than some incoherent yelling, with the occasional 'ARRRRRTHURRRRR' thrown in, so I couldn't MAKE him tell me who he was."

"The name 'Arthur' does imply that he might be one of the Knights of the Round Table," suggested Mash. "Arthur Pendragon is probably the most famous person to bear that name in history, so…"

"Odds would tend to favor it," agreed Da Vinci.

[...that had BETTER not be you, old man. You were always a disappointment, but this would be something else. A Berserker, really?]

Kratos grunted. "We assume nothing. We will treat this Black Knight as a dangerous combatant, and nothing more, until we can find some clue to his identity…..or we kill him."

"As practical as ever, Kratos," said Da Vinci, but she was smiling. "And that just leaves Fafnir and however many wyverns they have - and we have the perfect answer to those in our Dragonslayer here. The walking dead should have lost the magic animating them with Vlad and Carmilla dead, so we shouldn't have to worry about them anymore."

Kratos considered for a moment, then spoke. "Baldur spoke of knowing Freya's magics - at one point, I saw her raise the corpse of a giant, one worthy of the name - Thamur, and control the body in an effort to keep her son and myself apart."

Cu gave a low whistle. "Thamur…..can't say I've heard of that one. Must be another difference between your world and ours. But even so, that's actually pretty dang impressive, to animate a body that big and control it, especially for a long time. The mana costs for my Wicker Man are pretty horrendous, and that's just for the short time I need it to torch someone. If she had it up and fighting for an extended period of time…." He titled his head back, thinking. "You think he can pull something like that off here?"

"I….do not know." Kratos furrowed his brow, thinking back. "The Baldur I fought had some control of fire and ice, but they were mere attacks. He never showed any signs of knowing seiðr. At least, not as his mother does." Though that could have been any combination of his loathing of his mother causing him to forswear the ability and his overconfidence in his invulnerability.

"We'll put down more undead as a 'maybe', then," commented Da Vinci. "If nothing else, they're not much of a threat to you or the Servants, other than in numbers. And even the horde back at Castle Dracula didn't do much to slow you down."

"Way too many unknowns," mused Romani. "Who this Black Knight is, what exactly Baldur can do, and the point we keep coming back to - how are we going to stop him?"

Everyone, even Liz, who had been somewhat continually barraging Avenger with questions and exclamations, grew quiet.

Jeanne was the first to speak. "It seems we have two options. We either have to acquire mistletoe from outside the borders of France, or find a leyline to bring our Caster into the field."

"And do so before Fafnir recovers enough to fly again. If they come upon us before Pegasus is healed, we won't be able to escape like we did last time." Medusa paused, thinking. "Though, now that they've seen him, I wouldn't promise we could escape that way again, even if he was fully mended. With all you've said about Baldur tonight, you've never said he's stupid. Now that he knows I can do that, he's probably thinking of some way to counter that. And even if he isn't, Atalanta is."

Kratos grunted. Her thinking aligned with his - back in Ragnarök, when it looked like a fight with Heimdall had been unavoidable, the first thing their group had begun to plot out was how to overcome his ability of Foresight. If Baldur was not doing the same thing with regards to Pegasus, he was even more foolish and short-sighted than Kratos believed him to be. "How far to the border?"

"A day and a half to two days by foot," replied Jeanne. "For Servants, if we ran the whole way, maybe a little more than a day."

"Within a reasonable timeframe," mused Da Vinci. "But once you get across the border, then the problem becomes FINDING mistletoe or a leyline. Worst case scenario, Fafnir descends on you before you do, while you're still worn down from the run."

"And that's not even factoring into what the border countries' response might be to a group from France straying across the border." Jeanne's face was drawn. "I'd rather avoid having to fight and possibly kill the soldiers of other countries if at all possible. There's been enough unneeded death in France alone…..I don't want to add to that tally, if we can."

"It's probably better if we avoid damaging the timeline too much," said Romani. "We don't know if Lev's group has managed to completely shut the Counter Force out of the loop - if we start running around doing the same thing as them, even accidentally, they might end up lumping us in with them. Either as an honest mistake or simple expediency. We have enough enemies at the moment without looking for more."

Whatever reply anyone would have been about to make was broken up by Mash yawning. The girl tried to stifle it, but with Fou already sound asleep in her arms, it was a foregone conclusion.

"It is late," stated Siegfried, favoring the now blushing girl with a gentle smile. "Perhaps it would be best to sleep on this - or at least think on it, for those of us who do not require sleep. We can reconvene in the morning with fresh eyes and minds."

"Good idea - I need to make sure Roman gets something in his system besides cold coffee, and make sure he gets some rest, especially if we're possibly heading into Orleans in the immediate future." Da Vinci seized the collar of Roman's shirt, and forcibly dragged the man to his feet. "Get some rest, Kratos, Mash, and everyone else. We'll talk in the morning." And with that, the communicator winked out.

Siegfried rose to his feet. "I will go stand watch. Lady Kiyohime, would you show our guests to the guest chambers?"

"Of course," she said, turning to the Chaldea group. "If you'll follow me. There's enough spare bedrooms on this level of the castle that you'll have your pick of them."

Mash wearily made her way to her feet, Fou still dead to the world in her arms. Medusa stood as well, but shook her head. "I think I could use some air before that, if it's not too much trouble? Go ahead and show Mash where she can bed down for the night, and I'll find my way there later." The girl nodded. "Good. Kratos, if I could have a moment?"

Kratos nodded, part of him watching out of the corner of his eye as Avenger was practically dragged out of the room by an increasingly hyper Liz - who was also dragging Jeanne along for the ride, insisting that her 'besties' twin sister' needed to be included in the 'sleepover'. Jeanne's face was halfway to baffled, while Avenger just looked resigned to her fate.

A moment later, he was standing on the ramparts of Castle Csejte, feeling the cool night air wash over him. Medusa was already leaning against the ramparts, her hair being caught by the wind, a frown on her face.

"Alright, about Kiyohime - I know you're wondering why I had the reaction I did to hearing her name. It isn't just that she's a Berserker - though that does factor into why she's so dangerous. You're probably wondering why she seems so rational, aren't you?"

Kratos nodded. "The Berserker in Fuyuki was not even capable of speech. He still possessed his combat skills, but those were the only things that kept him from being a mindless beast." It rankled, still, somewhat. He might not have been on the best terms with his half-brother, but to see this world's version of him reduced to that…

"And that Black Knight Avenger has mentioned sounds like he's in the same boat - a screaming madman at best. But some Berserkers are….hyper-focused on certain things, to the point of insanity, rather than being completely robbed of their minds. There's a nurse I met on the Throne who….well, just pray you don't meet her with your cavalier disregard for your injuries - that 'It will pass' response to Mash noticing you being on fire would send her into a fit. She'd descend on you like lightning from Zeus, determined to commit medicine on you."

Medusa blew out a long breath, turning to look out over the walls of the castle. "In Kiyohime's case, her insanity manifests in the form of a complete intolerance for lying. Like most Servants, it's tied in with her legend."

"Kiyohime was once a young noblewoman in Japan - yes, the same Japan the first Singularity took place in, but hundreds of years ago. One day, she met a monk - it's a kind of a priest - making a pilgrimage to another shrine. He was staying at her parent's home - they opened their doors to monks making pilgrimages on a regular basis, and she fell head over heels for him, and asked him if he would marry her. He said yes. The only problem was, that was a lie - his first to her."

Kratos frowned. As someone who had seen his fair of tragic Greek plays, he believed he could see where this was going.

"He thought, maybe reasonably, that she would forget this promise as she grew up, as she was still a very young girl at this time. But she didn't. She waited, and waited, and waited for the day her monk would return to her. And one day, he returned to her home, on another pilgrimage. And, of course, she was waiting on him, and to his horror, she had not forgotten his promise despite the many years that had passed. He could have been honest here, and maybe nipped this growing issue in the bud, but, like most liars, when caught in a lie, they compound it with another lie on top of it. He told her he would finish his journey, and then return to her, upon which they would be wed."

Medusa shook her head. "So, he departed on his pilgrimage, and she waited. This is the part I've never been able to understand - eventually, he completes it, and begins his return journey. At this point, he had to know the girl wouldn't likely forget his two promises, yet, he returns on the same route. And, as he gets close to her family's home, he sees her standing by the road, waiting on him."

"It's possible he could have still salvaged the situation at this point if he'd just been honest. But upon seeing her, he changed the route he was taking to another road that would let him avoid her. And when she saw this, she snapped, and began to chase him, mad with feelings of betrayal and hate. She chased him to a river, where he had just convinced a ferryman to take him across, stranding her on the other side. He thought he was safe. He was wrong."

"The stories vary a bit on this point - sometimes, she tries to swim after him. Sometimes, she's stuck on the other side of the river, consumed by hate for the man. But whichever version it is, her rage transforms her into a Dragon, which allows her to cross the river and continue her pursuit of him. Desperate, he begs the monks of a temple to shelter him, and they hide him in the temple's bell. But, she has his scent, and tracks him to the bell, where she promptly burns him alive inside the bell."

Kratos gave a small grunt. It was almost worthy of being one of the works of Sophocles.

Medusa continued. "So, as a Berserker, she's incredibly focused on lies - to the point where hearing one can send her into a rage. Supposedly, if she is contracted with a Master, every time her Master lies, it automatically consumes one of their Command Seals to prevent her from outright killing them. If they lie once their Command Seals have run out…..well, I'm sure you can guess what will happen."

Another grunt. The tale Medusa had told him had left little to the imagination - he had seen, first hand, what sort of damage dragons could do in his time.

"The rest of this is just hearsay I picked up on the Throne from hearing a couple of Servants talk - there's a select few who claimed to be on good terms with her, particularly a couple of Japanese Servants who are oddballs in their own right. She's apparently still obsessed with finding her 'Anchin', only she's willing to believe that other people are him reborn, if they meet enough of her criteria." She fixed him with a look. "You can see why, given the glances she was constantly stealing of you, I might be concerned."

Kratos huffed out a breath. "I am not…unaware of the way my appearance affects some others. During Ragnarök, there was a smith, Lúnda. She made many comments - and she was not shy." He had second guessed inflicting her upon Atreus up until the moment the overly friendly woman had met his son. "Da Vinci has also not been quiet about the subject. More than once she has offered to 'sculpt' me. The girl could merely be of a mind with them."

Medusa shrugged. "It's possible. I just wanted to warn you - maybe we get out of this Singularity without you and her speaking more than a few words to one another, but in the event she does corner you, you should know who you're dealing with. She's not an inherently bad person - most Berserkers aren't, they're just dangerous because of the constraints of their class." She paused. "Avengers….tend to be the same. I still don't care for our Avenger, however."

Kratos grunted. There was little else to say to that - he doubted his half-brother in this world had been a raging monster in life, merely forced into becoming one by how he was summoned in that burning city. And whatever corruption had been forced on him by the fallen Saber could not have helped.

Medusa pushed off from the wall and stretched, languidly. "I'll leave you to it, then. I'll check in on Mash, make sure she's sleeping well, then probably keep watch with Siegfried." She smirked. "That should keep me about as far as possible from whatever is being inflicted on our two Jeannes, as well. One song from that girl is enough - and I don't fancy having my hair tied into pigtails, either." She frowned. "That's fair too cute for someone like me. It would fit my sisters better."

With an absent wave, she walked off, leaving Kratos alone on the ramparts. For a long, quiet moment, he simply looked out over the castle grounds, and the dying land of France beyond it. Part of him wished Mimir was here - the head placed to look out over the same vista Kratos was seeing. He missed the council of the Smartest Head Alive - and more than that, his companionship.

"So, has the Gorgon finished filling you in on all my horrible secrets?"

The voice shattered the still of the night, for all that the words were quiet. The Berserker slowly strode out onto the ramparts, stopping a short distance away from Kratos.

"Kiyohime," he rumbled.

"Good evening." She bowed her head. "Now please, answer the question. I can see it, you know. Just a slight tensing of your muscles….your very large muscles…and a very small narrowing of your eyes. You're wary of me. And I can still smell her scent, I know Medusa was just here, even if she hadn't asked to speak to you before our little group broke up. So, what sort of monster did she paint me as?"

Kratos heaved a breath. It seemed a conversation with the dragon girl he had been warned about was unavoidable. "She did not speak of you as a monster. She merely told me of your story. As this world is not my own, I am unfamiliar with its legends and people." He thought for a moment, then continued. "Even were this my world, I have seen only a small portion of it in my time. Beyond the burning city where I first arrived in this world, your 'Japan' is not a land I have ever seen with my own eyes - though I am told the Tyr of our lands has ventured to its shores." And many other shores, if the chamber underneath Tyr's temple was anything to go by. Greece, for one, and Mimir's homeland, from what the head had told him.

The girl titled her head to the side, considering Kratos. "Then why are you afraid of me?" She didn't sound angry, or plaintive, merely curious.

"Because you are dangerous," answered Kratos. "There are things in my past I would not speak of, and this, as well as half-truths and lies caused my son to walk away from me, for a time, into the grasp of a true monster." Kratos still had nightmares about what Odin could have done to Atreus, had the All-Father had more time to spin a web of lies around the boy. "While I have made an effort to change myself, habits are hard to break. I do not wish to provoke you, when we have enemies much greater."

The girl considered him for a long moment. "Did you lose him?" Her voice was quiet, a whisper amid the winds this high up on the castle walls.

Kratos shook his head. "No. Though I could have." He could still remember it, vividly. The vision the Norns had given him of Atreus running from him, calling him a monster. Running to the shelter of Odin's arms.

"Is he waiting for you, then, back in the world you came from?" The furtive, at times frantic interest the girl had been showing in him seemed to be draining away, replaced by….something.

"I do not know. After Ragnarök, he left on a journey. He had not yet returned when I found myself here." It was of some concern what Atreus would do if Kratos was not there when his son returned. The boy was still…reckless, where his father's safety was concerned. And he had access to a wolf who cut through the barriers between worlds with ease.

For a long while, there was only the sound of the night between them. Then, Kiyohime spoke again. "And your wife?"

"Dead these three winters," Kratos said through a thickness in his throat. "I would not speak of this further."

Kiyohime flushed. "I….I am sorry."

The quiet of the evening reasserted itself, and Kratos lost himself in his thoughts. Baldur. How to deal with Baldur?

Eventually, long enough passed that Kratos recognized his mind was going in circles. He pushed off from the wall, about to ask Kiyohime the location of one of the rooms for guests, when the girl's ears perked up, and she peered out into the night sky. "What…is that?"

Faintly, Kratos could hear it. A whine, or a scream - constant, but distant, and growing closer. But he could see nothing in the darkness of the night's sky. That did not seem to be the case for the girl.

Or Medusa. 'Kratos, we've got a Servant incoming…..and FAST!'

Kratos took the Leviathan Axe in hand, vainly scanning the darkness for whatever the Servants could see - or feel, somehow knowing that he would have to wait until it grew close enough to be visible. Kiyohime was holding her fan, fire flickering around its edges, and wisps escaping her mouth.

They were not made to wait long. It soared past them, impossibly fast, so that Kratos could only get the vaguest of glimpses before it was beyond his sight again. A metal vehicle, one of the 'fighter jets' Da Vinci had shown him when they had discussed war in the current age.

But none of the jets she had shown him had been blackened, with flakes of metal falling off, and angry, glowing red lines flowing up and down the body of the thing.

And none of them had a man in armor, black like the corruption that had engulfed the plane, clutching to the back of the plane, armored hand dug into the spine of the vehicle, roaring into the night.

As the thing passed by the castle, Kratos could have sworn he saw the knight's visor, glowing red, lock eyes with him.

As the thing sped off into the night, Kratos lowered his axe fractionally. What had just happened?

'He's coming back around! Brace yourselves!'

There was the screaming of the jet again, and suddenly, two flares of light detached themselves from the object, and accelerated towards them. In the blink of an eye, the projectiles had crossed the space between castle and plane, and then, a pair of explosions, and Kratos found himself hurled into the air, the ground rushing up to meet him.

Kiyohime's scream pierced through the din, the girl clawing at the air as she fell.

Kratos dropped the Leviathan Axe - no time to sheathe it - and almost tore the Blades of Chaos from his back. He would only get one shot at this.

The Blades flew out, and for a second, Kratos thought he had misjudged, but then the Blades shot past the falling girl, and, with a jerk on the chains, they were wrapping around her body, and then, an instant later, he had pulled her to him.

No time. Desperately, he turned his body, his shield snapping into place, as he cradled Kiyohime with his right arm and tried to shelter her as best he could. Then the ground was there.

Truthfully, it wasn't as bad as the fall from the back of Baldur's dragon. That one had been from much farther up, and the stones of Tyr's temple much less yielding. But whatever pain he may or may not have been feeling at the time had been secondary - Baldur had had his son, and nothing, not even a child of Odin, would stand in his way. The pain from his fall was nothing against the pain of losing a child.

That didn't mean that it hadn't hurt. And just like before, this also hurt.

Dirt and the stones of the castle were blasted up as Kratos' body impacted, and the breath was knocked from his lungs. The pain was there, too, but pain was an old friend, one easily pushed aside. Gingerly, he made his way to his feet, head tilted upwards, looking both for the plane, as well as any falling stones that may need to be avoided.

Two more explosions sounded, this time against the castle walls. The Berserker roared, and a rapid, staccato sound echoed as the plane once more raced by the castle. Then, silence.

'I…I think he's retreating.' Medusa's voice was thready in his mind, the woman clearly rattled from the sudden attack. 'It feels like he's moving farther and farther away….he might have exhausted the missiles the plane was carrying….'

'Are you injured?'

'Minor scrapes at worst. He seemed like he was just firing haphazardly, and not specifically aiming at anyone in particular. Siegfried's also fine.' Some of her usual calm was returning to her voice.

'Kiyohime is with me. Find Mash and the others.'

'Already on it.' He felt her string in his mind go limp, and finally, now that the danger was past, took stock of his surroundings, and himself.

A gaping chunk had been torn from the walkways outside the room where they had discussed their alliance. Another one of the towers, a smaller one, had been completely toppled. He could not see where the walls had been impacted from where he stood, but he assumed similar damage had been done to them. Overall, it had accounted for little - none of the impacts looked to be in areas where it could have directly harmed them.

His shield retracted, and he raised his arm. A moment later, the Leviathan Axe returned to his grasp. He was sore - and would likely still be sore the next day, but it would not hinder him.

"Kratos." The voice was very, very soft.

"Are you injured?"

"No." The girl's head was bowed, her hair hiding her face. "You saved me."

"You are an ally. And I am your guest." He slid his axe back into its harness. "To my people, hospitality was not to be broken. Ever." The less said about those who had done so, the better - he did not often find himself agreeing with the Gods of Olympus, but those fools who had spat on the oaths of hospitality had EARNED their punishments.

"Oh." She fidgeted for a moment. "Thank you. We should probably check on the others." She turned, and began to walk back to the castle.

"Girl….Kiyohime." She stopped, startled, and turned to face him. "I am not the one you seek. And even if, somehow, I were, I still belong to another. And I shall for many winters yet."

Kiyohime regarded him for a long while. When she did speak, her voice was still soft. "You…..you loved her greatly, didn't you?"

What was there even to say to that? Yes, he had, but to say it…Kratos did not, as Mimir had sometimes put it, 'wear his heart on his sleeve'. Minutely, he nodded - even that feeling somewhat alien to him. Emotional displays had been one of the first casualties of the agoge, with stoicism left to fill the void.

She favored him with a small smile. "She was a very lucky woman." She turned, and resumed walking to the castle.

Blissfully unaware of the voice in her head that was talking, her voice. Calmly, for now, but getting progressively louder, and harder to ignore. Softly, she began humming to herself, as she skipped up the stairs to Castle Csejte.

Mash was unharmed. Hair mussed, still wiping sleep from her eyes, and with an aggrieved Fou in her arms, but unharmed.

The three Servants who had been in Liz's chambers had also escaped injury, at least of a physical variety. Liz was off checking on the damages that had been inflicted on her castle. Jeanne herself seemed as she always did, though her hair was unbound, flowing loose down her back, and appeared freshly brushed. Avenger, however…..

Her hair was also unbound from its long braid, and had been retied into two smaller ones, sticking out from the sides of her head. And they seemed to flash in the light as they swung in the air, as if they had been dusted with something that caused them to sparkle. And there was the hint of cosmetics on her face, half-applied. Upon seeing Kratos, her expression grew thunderous. "Not. A. WORD."

"I said nothing." The Spartan stoicism he had been musing about mere minutes earlier had come to the fore.

The Avenger swept her eyes around the room, as if daring anyone else to make a comment, and, when no one else did she allowed herself a pleased smirk. "So, anyone want to tell me what the hells just happened? The Pink Menace will let us know how badly we got hammered, but what the fuck hit us?"

"It was your Black Knight, Avenger," said Kiyohime, from where she was standing next to Kratos.

"Not MY Black Knight, dragon girl, not anymore," snapped Avenger. "And like, how? Those were some big explosions I heard, and then, nothing. That was way too quick for you to have killed him. He might be completely off his rocker, but the guy could throw down. And there wasn't enough of his insane roaring, either."

"He flew in," Medusa fixed Avenger with a look. "On a jet."

Avenger blinked, her jaw going slack. "A jet? You're shitting me."

"No, she is not….," Kiyohime coughed. "...'shitting you.' Kratos and I were on the ramparts when he appeared. He destroyed the walkway underneath us…..if it wasn't for Kratos, I might have died."

Avenger's mouth hung open for a long moment, her rebuttal forgotten. "...how?"

"Clearly it must be his Noble Phantasm," replied Jeanne.

"No, I GET that, 'me'. I never had occasion to have him whip it out while he was working for me, but that's the only thing that makes sense." She shook her head. "No, what I don't get is how the unholy fuck does a medieval knight have a modern damn fighter jet as his Noble Phantasm? I've been harassed all evening by a young version of Carmilla who's part dragon and who wants to be an idol. I'm fighting alongside a god from another world. I'm a damn faulty clone of Jeanne d'Arc running off the Spirit Core of Gilles de Rais that went off the deep end. But THIS thing makes less sense than any of that!"

There was another question that was plaguing Kratos' mind. "And, why did he depart?"

Jeanne pursed her lips as she thought. "It must be the mana costs involved with his Noble Phantasm. To keep it manifested all the way from Orleans to here, and then back, he must only have enough time to carry out a quick attack before he has to return."

"But…they have the Holy Grail. Shouldn't they be able to power even a Berserker's Noble Phantasm for much longer?" asked Mash, her fingers scratching behind a sleepy Fou's ears.

"It must be the spell he mentioned when we were fighting him, the one that is killing all the plants in France. Kratos said he never showed any great skill at Magecraft, or seiðr, to use the correct term." Da Vinci was pacing again. "Plus whatever he's diverting from the Grail to heal Fafnir, since he probably wants his ride out here functional as quickly as possible. Between the healing and a spell affecting an entire country, and the Servants it's powering, most of its power must be largely spoken for."

Avenger looked confused. "So, why even waste the time? He got about as lucky as he could have gotten, in blasting the two of you off the walls, and you still survived. Were they just hoping to snipe someone?"

Kratos shook his head. "No. This was a message, to let us know they could strike us at any time. Even if they cannot bring us to battle, they can harry us. Tire us. And, as you said, maybe get lucky'"

"And he's too fast for any of us to hit. Siegfried's Noble Phantasm needs time to build up, and Jeanne and Mash's are defensive in nature." Medusa sighed. "I might be able to run him down in Pegasus, but I'd need to go alone. And as dangerous as you've said that Berserker is, without backup…I don't like my odds."

"You could certainly huddle behind Lord Chaldeas whenever he puts in an appearance," suggested Romani. "But that just leaves you stalemated - he can't hurt you, and you can't hurt him. And it pins you down here."

"And time is not our ally," stated Kratos.

"Right," agreed Romani. "We have to figure Baldur's healing Fafnir as fast as he can. Once he shows up again, if you don't have a way to hurt him, or a way to escape…"

He trailed off, but everyone in the room could see the writing on the wall. Without a way to harm Baldur, they were doomed.

Cu had stolen a pacing Da Vinci's seat, and had put his feet up. "I hate to say it, but that option I said was suicidal earlier tonight? It's looking less suicidal than just waiting here for Baldur to fly up and knock on your door." He pointed at the map that had been spread out on the table. "If you lay low enough on the way there, you'd probably be able to give them the slip until you're right on their doorstep. No way a Berserker's spotting you from the back of a jet, at least."

"We would need to take a more circuitous path to Orleans, however," commented Jeanne. As she leaned over, her hair spilled over her shoulders onto the map. She sighed, but before she could gather it up, Kiyohime was there, pulling it back for her. Jeanne nodded her thanks, then placed a finger on their location at Castle Csejte. "We're here, just a bit outside of Lyon…this is Thiers, where Castle Dracula is…or was."

She frowned. "Thiers would have been the ideal place to strike out from to approach Orleans. It's essentially a straight shot to there, we could have been there in a half day, or less. But we have to assume it's being watched now."

"Yeah, WAY too obvious," commented Cu, now leaning forward to see the map better through the screen. "You don't leave something like that so close to your home base without having eyes on it, or having some card up your sleeve to deal with trespassers. I'll bet you some good Irish whiskey that he's probably letting the greater whole of his wyverns nest there now that old Drac's dead. Someone shows up, they swarm them, and he gets an early warning that he's got guests."

Avenger shook her head. "No bet."

Cu smirked. "Yeah, figured I wouldn't get any takers on that one. It's the only thing that makes sense. He probably doesn't want to let any of his Servants out of his sight just in case they get ideas similar to the ones he had. So, if Thiers is off the table, what's our play to get me tagged in?"

Jeanne looked at the map for a long moment, then turned to Avenger. "Siegfried said you hadn't managed to fully ravage the eastern coastal towns. What about the western ones?"

"I terrorized them a bit, but didn't get around to burning them to the ground," she stated, matter-of-factly. "Bordeaux was next on my list after I got done with Siegfried, but the day I was supposed to handle him was the day everything went tits-up thanks to a certain green-suited visitor. Once I summoned our mutual friend, my campaign of terror kind of ground to a halt."

Jeanne nodded, tracing her fingers along the coastline. "If we slip along the coast…it'll take us a few days longer than going directly there, but we could probably sneak in that way." As she sat back into her chair, Kiyohime released her hair. "Best case, we come up on the castle while he's out looking for us, and we can snatch the Grail right out from under them with minimal fuss."

Cu gave the Saint a wry grin. "Lass, if my short but eventful life has taught me anything, it's that things never work out that easily."

Jeanne sighed. "I know. But it's a nice dream, every once in a while." She turned to the rest of the room. "Does anyone have any objections or suggestions?"

"The only concern I have is how our enemies will react when they find Castle Csejte abandoned," said Medusa. "Even before Fafnir is able to fly again, if the Black Knight does another raid and figures out that we've left, and can somehow convey that information to Baldur, it will make our journey that much more difficult. But…anyone we leave behind…."

"Is pretty much signing their death warrant," finished Avenger. "Yeah, Sir-Screams-Alot won't be able to do much damage to the castle or any Servants here with his jet, but once Baldur gets here, all bets will be off. He wasn't shy about what he was planning to do to anyone who got between him and his way back home."

There was a long silence as they wrestled with the dilemma before them. A silence that was broken by an unusually serious voice.

"I'll do it." Liz was standing at the door to the chamber, hands on her hips, a determined look on her face.

Kiyohime frowned. "You can't be serious. You stupid Komodo…" She bit back whatever she was about to say, then took a breath. "Elizabeth. Do you really understand what you're signing up for?"

Liz nodded. "This is MY castle! The ruler of the castle's got to defend it! And the idol's got to take center stage for at least one big moment!" She made that two fingered gesture again, and once again, a small star popped into being. Then her face fell back into a more serious expression. "And my Noble Phantasm's the best way to deal with him, too. It's a solid wave of sound - it'll knock him back, keep him away, and will make it look like we're still here. It'll draw all the eyes to your favorite idol, while keeping them OFF you."

Kiyohime looked torn. "But that'll only last until Baldur comes. When he does….."

"Yeah, I know. But you heard what they told us - if they don't get this Singularity resolved, that's it. No more humans - that means no more concerts for me, which means no more idol career." She gave Kiyohime a cheeky little grin. "And no more Comiket, either, which means your friend Batty will lose what little motivation she has to make those doujins. You know the ones, don't you?"

Kiyohime's cheeks pinked, ever so slightly. "Those 'doujins', as you call them, are quality works of literature for people with discerning tastes."

Liz patted the other girl on her head. "Suuuuure they are." She turned to the rest of the room. "But really, let me do this. My bestie already did me a solid by taking care of That Awful Woman, so let me repay the favor."

Kratos stared at the girl for a long moment. "Elizabeth. I….may have misjudged you."

"Awwwwww, do I have a new fan?" The girl beamed at the Spartan. "Don't sweat it. I know I don't come off as the most serious thing on two legs, but I'm a Servant at the end of the day. I know what the stakes are here. Just come to one of my concerts, and we'll call it even, Fuzzy."

Kratos blinked. "...Fuzzy?"

Liz's head nodded furiously. "Yeah, Fuzzy! Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear, Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair, Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't very fuzzy, was he?" She pointed at Kratos. "You're all big and scary like some sort of big angry bear that hates people, even if you're not that bad once someone gets to know you, but you're not really all that hairy, other than that beard, so, you're Fuzzy."

Kratos had opened his mouth to reply when a very tired voice intruded on his thoughts.

'Don't fight it, 'Fuzzy'. Really, don't. I can tell you from VERY recent experience it won't do a lick of good. Just accept this new reality and hope she doesn't get any more ideas. At least you're just getting off with a nickname and not…..other things. If I get to the Throne and find out she remembers any of this shit my life's going to be suffering.' Avenger's voice was the auditoral definition of the sort of stare long-time soldiers got, where they had seen too much, and weren't looking at what was before them, but were peering off into the void.

Kratos closed his mouth. In truth, the nickname wasn't as outlandish as some of the ones Lúnda had come up for him. And after hearing Avenger's words, some part of him felt he would be tempting the Fates should he choose to make an issue of this.

Medusa was wearing a little half-smirk. "If we're decided, then, I think it's past time someone got back to bed." She pointed to where Mash's head had flopped to the table, her eyes closed, her breathing steady and regular. Fou was curled up in the girl's lap, also sound asleep.

"Will you need sleep as well, Kratos?" asked Kiyohime. "Do gods even need to sleep?"

"I require less than a mortal does, but I do require it." Carefully, he rose from his chair, and gently gathered Mash into his arms. So tired was the girl that she didn't stir.

Kiyohime had lifted a similarly exhausted Fou into her hands. "Follow me, then, and I will show you where she was sleeping. You can take any of the other vacant rooms, and then…."

Kratos grunted. "We set out at dawn."

It was a voice in his head that pulled Kratos from a dreamless sleep.

Medusa. 'Kratos, you're going to want to see this. We've got an army approaching the castle gate.'

He was awake in a flash, grogginess pushed aside with the ease of a long-time campaigner - though he noted he had only slept for a little. It would not affect him too much in the short term, but too many nights like this would start to tell. 'Their allegiance?' he sent, as he settled his weapons into their harnesses.

'They're flying the French flag, of all things, so this might not be a hostile force. Jeanne's already heading down to meet them - despite all the Dragon Witch rumors, she's the most normal looking person we have to meet with them, and if they are really French soldiers, her face might keep things from exploding into violence.'

Kratos pushed his door open, and then had to carefully step over the body of a sleeping dragon girl, who was sprawled out, fast asleep, just outside his room. For a moment, he considered waking her, but chose to let her, and Mash sleep. They would need the rest in the days to come.

As he stormed down the many winding staircases of the castle, he was joined by a scowling Avenger. "Fuck's going on?"

Kratos did not spare her even a glance, as he was focused on finding his way through the labyrinth that was this castle. "An army approaches, one flying the French flag. Jeanne has gone to meet them."

Avenger's face twisted in confusion. "An army? Who the hells could that be? I smashed any force that looked like it could cause me problems in the early days - took out the officers too, so the survivors were running around like headless chickens. Maybe….."

Avenger looked to be considering something. "I might have an idea. Let me get a good look at them."

"Keep yourself from sight. Those soldiers we met before were ready to fire upon your other self - even when she had just saved them from death. The sight of the actual Dragon Witch…"

Avenger cut him off. "Yeah yeah, I'll behave myself. I know I was a Very Bad Girl and most people aren't going to be happy to see me. I'll stay in Spirit Form." She faded from sight, though he could still feel her presence by his side.

Kratos stepped out into the pre-dawn morning a few moments later, the Avenger still following invisibly, and looked over the plain before the castle.

Indeed, it was an army that had drawn up to the castle. The amount of soldiers here qualified for that title in numbers alone. However….

'Just like I thought. Banners of different units, mismatched equipment, blah blah blah. These are the survivors of the various armies I crushed. Someone's been rounding them up and making them into this patchwork force. But who….'

Avenger's musings were cut off as a voice called out from within the massed ranks before them. "HO, THE CASTLE! IF YOU BE FRIENDS OF FRANCE, WE SEEK PARLEY! WHAT SAY YOU?"

"Kratos?" At his nod, Jeanne raised her voice, and let loose a reply. "YES! YOUR TERMS ARE ACCEPTABLE! SEND FORTH THOSE WHO WILL SPEAK FOR YOU TO THE GATES, AND WE SHALL GUARANTEE THEIR SAFETY!"

There was a shuffling in the ranks of men, and, after a moment, it seemed a group was beginning to form an honor guard around a single man. A white flag was raised, and they began to cross the plain.

Medusa's voice spoke in his mind. 'Siegfried's heading down. He says he's aided a few groups of soldiers since he was summoned to France, and they might recognize him. Might help keep this a friendly chat, if nothing else.'

After a few moments, a wall of shields and swords stood before them, obviously protecting the man who had been chosen to parley with them. Helmeted heads looked over the Saint and the god, and Kratos was certain he heard more than one whispered utterance of Jeanne's name, as well as much less quieter speculation about him - mainly commenting on his 'savage' appearance. Then, a new voice spoke, and the honor guard stiffened, and stepped aside.

The chosen representative of this makeshift army was, truthfully, far from awe-inspiring in appearance. A rather plain face, limp black hair, and rather simple white armor, notable only for the large cross emblazoned across his chest. There was something of nobility in his features, but he barely looked like a leader of men….he was almost forgettable.

But apparently not forgettable to the pair of Jeannes, visible and invisible, that stood by Kratos' side.

Avenger made a strangled, choked sound in his mind upon seeing the man. Jeanne's eyes grew wide, and she took a half-step forward. "Gilles…is that you?"

The second she moved, the honor guard stiffened, their hands flying to the hilts of their swords, though they did not draw steel, not yet, as the leader of their group raised a hand, halting their motion. He looked upon Jeanne with an expression of disbelief, and, after a moment to gather his thoughts, spoke.

"Yes, I am Gilles de Rais." His voice was measured, with an undercurrent of emotion that was fighting to break through. "You…..by all appearances, you are Jeanne d'Arc, the Maid of Orleans….but that cannot be. Jeanne is dead….so I ask, who are you, that wears her face? Do I behold the Dragon Witch herself?"

Jeanne's face fell. "It…..it's me, Gilles. It's a long story….but I'm back…I was sent back to stop the Dragon Witch…back when the Dragon Witch was the one ravaging France."

More muttering from the group sent to parley with them. Gilles looked like he wanted to believe her, but the men surrounding him were far more suspicious. Most still had their hands on their swords. Finally, Gilles swept his hand before him, silencing the group, and spoke. "How? And sent by who? Is…..is this the doing of the Lord?"

"No, Sir Gilles, this is not the doing of the Lord. Jeanne d'Arc walks the soil of France by the same power that allows me to do the same." Siegfried strode out from the castle, coming to stand alongside Kratos and Jeanne.

If the reaction to Kratos and Jeanne had been borderline hostile, the reaction to Siegfried was almost the complete opposite. The knights relaxed almost immediately, hands finally releasing their sword hilts, and suspicious eyes that had been watching carefully from behind eye slits widened in relief.

Gilles too, seemed happy to see the man. "Sir Siegfried! Then…she speaks the truth? The Maid of Orleans…..our Jeanne…she has come back to us?"

Siegfried nodded. "Yes. On my honor as a knight, Jeanne d'Arc stands before you."

A ripple went through the assembled men, and then, almost in unison, they dropped to a knee.

"NO!" Jeanne stormed up to them, her face twisted in agony. "You do not kneel to me! You NEVER kneel to me!" She seized Gilles by his shoulders and hauled him to his feet, staring into his eyes. "It's just me….Jeanne. The simple farm girl who, after the battle was over, wept over every soldier who died around her - nothing more, nothing less. We kneel to the King of France. We kneel to the Lord our God. But you do NOT kneel to me…."

Gilles could not meet her gaze. "But…..what else could it be but a miracle that you have returned to us, in our time of need?"

Jeanne shook her head. "It is no miracle. Merely a system - a way for the land to respond when it is threatened. And….when we have fixed things, when France has been saved, I will have to go, Gilles. When everything is back to the way it was…..I will still be dead."

She took his hand in hers. "So please, Gilles….my friend. Do not kneel before me. In this brief time we have to see each other again, please…..don't treat me differently."

Gilles shuddered, but, at long last, he met Jeanne's eyes. "Very well. Rise men, our Jeanne has come back to us, for a short time, to save this land."

As the honor guard rose to their feet, Jeanne threw her arms around Gilles and buried her head into his shoulder. And if both their eyes were wet, well, none would hold it against them.

When Jeanne drew back from him, Gilles de Rais stood just a bit taller, his back straighter, and his voice carried a hint of steel that it had been lacking before. "What would you have of us, my lady?"

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Originally planned to start this chapter with our group, but I kept getting persistent ideas to show a bit of what's going on with Baldur, so, there we are.

Talk-heavy chapter, but we're going into the climatic fights, so it's the deep breath before the big push. Going to be lots of fisticuffsmanship in the next ones.

I only count Kratos winning the first and last encounter with Baldur. When Baldur jumped them at Mimir's former prison atop the one peak, Kratos lost that fight - mainly thanks to the boi being a complete shit during it - Baldur snatched up Atreus and made it all the way back to Tyr's Temple and had opened the gate to Asgard - he'd essentially achieved his win condition. It was only Kratos flipping the table and screwing up the realm transfer and getting them thrown to Hel that didn't result in that gate opening and the armies of Asgard descending - or just Thor, which might have been worse, since that was still very much Thor as Odin's loyal mad dog.

In the first draft of this, I had Atalanta and Baldur talking about how they couldn't send Zerkerlot to patrol the border because it costs too much mana that they need to both heal Fafnir and power the withering spell - as it's established Zerkerlot is a mana hog. It's what kills Kariya in Fate/Zero after all - or at least partially contributed - Zouken's damn worms weren't doing him any favors, after all. But then I couldn't get the idea of him doing a drive-by of Castle Csejte out of my head, so here we are.

Yes, the Holy Grail SHOULD be infinite mana, or almost infinite mana, but I'm fudging that a bit for the purposes of my story - I want there to be a cap on it so Baldur can't keep France down and insta-heal Fafnir and still send Zerkerlot out on infinite drive-bys.

I looked pretty hard to see if Thamur existed in proper Norse mythology, and couldn't find anything - it looks like he was made up for God of War. Correct me if I'm wrong.

I leave it up to your imagination what exactly happened in the slumber party Liz dragged the Jeannes off to. And not like THAT, any of you perverts.

This took longer than I'd wanted, mainly because work last week was an absolute bear - a wall to wall week of stress that didn't leave me with much motivation to write, as I was so worried about other things. Apologies.

Probably one or two more chapters before France is done. I might be able to resolve everything in one chapter, but we've got the climactic fight coming up, and I somehow don't think that's going to fit in one chapter. So we'll see.

Kiyohime gave me the most trouble in this chapter - as I've noted, I really don't feel like I have the best handle on her character. I hope she was at least a bit more correct this time around than last, where I went a bit too big on the Anchin thing.

Also, I've finally figured out what I'm doing with Septem. So we've got a gameplan for the interlude between Orleans and Septem, Septem, and Okeanos - still not sure about the interlude between Septem and Okeanos, but that's far enough in the future that it can stew for a bit.