Another EMIYA!Accolon fanfic.
I've lost my memories of my medieval literature and had to sort through my drafts to see which one I feel is best suited to publish. So... episodic chapters for this fanfic.
Funny enough, I can see Shirou Emiya (like a version of Heaven Feel route) being Accolon (if time travel) or some sort of reincarnation.
If you manage to get a hold of a summary/rundown of Accolon's story, you might see some of Accolon's characteristic lining up with Shirou Emiya/EMIYA.
Chapter 1:
Morgan le Fay had taken an immediate interest in the enigmatic warrior the moment her raven's eyes found him. It was in a distant coastal town, nestled within her territory in Orkney, where she first laid eyes upon him.
He was locked in a fierce battle with a Nuckelavee, the most malevolent of fairies—a creature of nightmares. Despite its monstrous strength and grotesque form, he emerged victorious with only a few scratches and bruises.
She had watched the battle through the eyes of one of her ravens, her interest piqued by the sight of this mysterious warrior who fought with an elegance that belied his youth. His mastery of the bow, his skill with multiple weapons, and his unique Projection Magecraft were unlike anything she had ever seen. The way he summoned and wielded an array of Mystic Codes with such mastery was utterly mesmerizing. How could she possibly resist the temptation to claim him for herself?
'We finally meet.'
He was efficient, precise, and most intriguing of all, utterly disinterested in the accolades that should have followed such a triumph. Instead, he had vanished into the shadows, leaving the townsfolk to wonder at the identity of their savior.
"What is your name?" she asked with an undercurrent of command.
"... Archer. You can call me Archer," he replied, his tone measured and devoid of emotion.
He appeared as a young man, a teenager in his prime, but Morgan could sense something otherworldly about him.
He was almost like a human but not quite—there was an agelessness to him, an ancient aura that belied his youthful appearance. His red and black outfit, tattered from the recent battle, clung to a well-built frame. He stood a few centimeters shorter than Morgan, a detail that she found endearing. His auburn hair framed a dashing face, and his golden-brown eyes held a depth of wisdom far beyond his apparent years, though they were carefully guarded behind a stoic expression.
Morgan's lips curled into a smile, though her eyes remained sharp and calculating. She had already made up her mind about this one—he would be a valuable asset to her. In fact, she had decided that he would become her lover, as her previous interests had either fallen out of favor or disappeared.
'How adorable, barely my height,' she mused with a sly smile.
She'd never had a lover shorter than her before and clearly relished this small advantage, savoring the subtle assertion of dominance it provided.
"I suppose someone of your caliber with a bow would call themselves that." She circled him slowly, her gaze appraising as she continued. "But that's not your real name, is it?"
"No," he admitted, "but it's enough for a nameless individual like me."
Morgan's interest deepened at his response. There was something delightfully enigmatic about him—this so-called 'Archer' who carried himself with the grace of a seasoned warrior, yet spoke with the humility of one who had long abandoned the need for recognition. His stoicism intrigued her; his refusal to reveal his true identity only deepened his allure.
Yet, it also irked her—he reminded her too much of her little sister, who hid behind a mask of indifference and disguised herself as a man to claim the throne that rightfully belonged to her.
"A nameless archer?" she mused aloud, her tone teasing. "That won't do." She moved closer, her veil shifting slightly as she leaned in. "Archer is such a dull name... how about..." She paused, a name coming to her, bringing with it a spark of excitement. " Accolon... Yes, Accolon would do nicely for you."
She missed it, but 'Archer' subtly stiffened at the mention of the name, though his composure quickly returned.
"That's kind of you," he replied with practiced politeness, "but I don't deserve a name, much less that one."
Morgan's eyes narrowed slightly, though her smile remained as she moved to stand before him, deliberately close. She enjoyed the fact that she stood a bit taller than him. With a graceful hand, she parted the black veil that concealed her face, letting their eyes meet directly.
"You would reject such a gift from me?" she teased, leaning in ever so slightly. "A name, and knighthood? From me, Morgan le Fay?"
"You're better off with someone else. I do not deserve that kind of honor."
Morgan's playful demeanor faltered. It wasn't often that someone stood against her will, especially not someone like him—someone she had chosen. A brief flash of irritation crossed her mind, the comparison to her younger sister gnawing at her pride. How could that fraud convince many others with mere words, while she had to seduce or press hard for the same result? The thought sparked a subtle anger within her, one she wasn't accustomed to feeling so keenly.
"You truly mean to refuse me?" she asked, the question more of a statement, an unspoken demand. Her eyes, now hard as steel, bore into his.
She struggled to mask her anger, though he perceived the shift in her demeanor. The tension hung heavy in the air, and after a moment, he sighed, as if recognizing the futility of his resistance.
"If you insist," he conceded with a reluctant nod. "But—"
Before he could continue, Morgan interrupted him with a decisive motion.
"Then it is settled," she declared, her voice ringing with finality. His reluctant acceptance of her offer was all she needed. "From this moment on, you shall be known as Accolon, and you are now a knight under my aegis."
With a flourish, she conjured a ceremonial cloak—a Mystic Code, dark and richly embroidered with lavish designs, and gracefully draped it over his shoulders.
"Hold on, let me—"
"This cloak symbolizes your new rank and your bond to me. Wear it with pride, for it marks your place among my chosen."
"Listen, I—"
"Hush." Morgan placed a finger gently yet firmly on his lips, a hint of annoyance in her eyes, though her expression softened slightly. He tried to remove her hand with an exasperated look of his own, but she merely arched an eyebrow, undeterred.
"Just call me Emiya."
"Sir Accolon." The formal address seemed to crack the veneer of his stoic demeanor, and Morgan took a certain pleasure in that.
"Shirou. My name used to be Shirou," he insisted, a hint of resignation creeping into his voice.
"Sir Accolon," she reiterated firmly, her smile widening as she savored the small triumph of piercing through his composure.
"Ugh… this is my life now, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is."
/-/
'I hate you so much, Alaya,' EMIYA thought bitterly, tracing yet another Noble Phantasm for Morgan's unending curiosity about his Projection Magecraft.
"Specialized Mystic Codes... crystallized Mysteries," Morgan mused, her eyes gleaming with intellectual curiosity. She cast aside her veil, revealing a face almost identical to Artoria Pendragon's. "I've never seen anything like these before. Did you create them yourself? Oh, no need to reveal such a Mystery. But at least tell me—do these kinds of Mystic Codes have a name?"
"... They're called Noble Phantasms. Let's keep the name between us, though."
"Already our little secret, lovely."
When Chaldea successfully resolved the Human Order Incineration Incident, the world began the arduous process of restoring its countless timelines. But with so many timelines 'scorched' away, the restoration was far from smooth. Hiccups were inevitable, some of which required his intervention to set them straight. EMIYA was all too familiar with such tasks, having dealt with the complexities of the Miyuverse and Illyaverse through his Archer Class Card, and occasionally stepping in directly as a Servant or a Counter Guardian.
But this time, the mission Alaya assigned him was different—brutally different.
For reasons known only to Alaya, EMIYA found himself thrust into a timeline from Britain's most legendary era, not as himself, but as Accolon—a figure synonymous with tragedy and betrayal in the Arthurian legend.
Accolon, a knight who unwittingly became a pawn in the downfall of Camelot.
'She's like Aesc. Then again, they're technically the same person,' He observed Morgan's delight as she admired the traced Noble Phantasm, finding her enthusiasm unexpectedly charming.
It reminded EMIYA of a Lostbelt version of Morgan who went by the name Aesc.
Aesc had been a curious and intellectual girl, traits reflected in the Morgan before him. It was a pity her fate mirrored that of Proper Human History's Artoria and, to an extent, his own. It reminded him of how Artoria used to brighten up over something as simple as a stuffed lion. This glimpse of Morgan's softer side felt like a secret she had yet to share with anyone else.
But EMIYA wasn't naive. He knew well that beneath her composed exterior, Morgan could be vindictive and dangerously temperamental. One misstep could easily result in torture—or worse.
The thought of ending her life and sparing Artoria and Britain the chaos she was capable of crossed his mind. He had the mentality and means to do it, but the Counter Force had subtle ways of ensuring he stayed on course with its plans. And then there was the uncomfortable truth he couldn't ignore: a part of him understood Morgan. He had seen her Lostbelt versions, experienced the tragedies that shaped her into the person she was.
Despite everything, he could relate to her on some level. After all, underneath the cynicism and the burden of his role, he was still that idealistic fool named Shirou Emiya.
"Can you imagine the sacrifices others would make to create what you can?" Morgan leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. She pressed a side of her face against his, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that was both curious and seductive. "You're a captivating mage with a masterful command of your craft and the skill of a battle-hardened knight. Do tell me more about yourself."
"I'm just a third-rate magus with one specialty," he responded dismissively. "There are many who surpass me in every way."
"Oh? Is that your way of humbling those fools?" Morgan twirled the traced dagger with delight. "How selfless of you. But this will serve me well. I have projects that could greatly benefit from your expertise."
The era of King Arthur was a time steeped in knights, chivalry, and fated tragedies.
To EMIYA's dismay, he was cast not merely as a knight but as Accolon, the very figure whose ill-fated actions would seal King Arthur's doom. Under the influence of Morgan le Fay, Accolon wielded a stolen Excalibur and Avalon, unknowingly betraying the king he served. The true Excalibur had been replaced with a counterfeit blade, and a carefully orchestrated duel led by Morgan nearly ended in Accolon's victory—if not for the timely intervention of the Lady of the Lake. The duel's outcome was fatal for Accolon, and his death drove Morgan into a vengeful fury.
Overcome with grief, she retaliated by casting Avalon into a river, sealing King Arthur's fate. Without Avalon's protective power, Arthur ultimately fell at the Battle of Camlann.
"Joy..." EMIYA muttered to himself, the irony not lost on him.
EMIYA understood too well why he had been chosen for this role. His connection with Avalon, once his lifeline, now became his burden. His Projection Magecraft, which allowed him to create near-perfect replicas of any weapon he had seen, made him uniquely suited—or cursed—for the task.
For weapons he couldn't replicate perfectly, like the legendary Excalibur, he could still trace a counterfeit so convincing that it was indistinguishable from the real thing in appearance, feel, and function. It was precisely this ability that had led to his selection, trapping him in a role where his talents would be used to immortalize a tragic fate rather than prevent one.
To add insult to injury, EMIYA found himself not in his usual mature form but as his teenage self. If he were to glance at his reflection, he would see a youth with auburn hair and golden-brown eyes staring back—a stark contrast to his usual tanned skin, white hair, and gray eyes.
"You're quite snarky," Morgan remarked, cupping his chin and tilting his head upward with a playful smirk. "But I find it rather adorable." She set the dagger aside and stroked his hair affectionately. "My snarky little knight."
'I really, really hate you, Alaya.'
He loathed this youthful appearance with a passion, not just because it reminded him of his personal failures but also because it made him several centimeters shorter than Morgan—a detail that irked him deeply.
What had happened to Alaya's supposed favoritism for his usual form, the tall, tanned, battle-hardened Counter Guardian ready to face any challenge?
"Oh, we've arrived," Morgan remarked with a touch of satisfaction, her gaze fixed on the imposing silhouette of her personal castle emerging from the mist. The boat, a Mystic Code imbued with enchantments and magical energies, glided smoothly across the waters of Orkney's remote coast. Its hull shimmered with light, reflecting the deepening twilight sky.
'I've arrived in my designated hell, Alaya. Thanks a lot."
EMIYA stood beside her, taking in the sight of the grand fortress. The castle's towering spires and intricate battlements were bathed in the soft, fading light of dusk, casting long shadows over the churning sea. The architecture was a striking blend of ancient grandeur and dark elegance, with deep green ivy climbing the stone walls and enchanted lights flickering like fireflies in the growing darkness.
The boat glided smoothly towards the castle docks, the Mystic Code effortlessly shifting from the water to the solid stone of the quay. As the vessel came to a gentle halt, a melodious chime rang out from the castle, announcing their arrival.
"Welcome to my domain. I trust you find it to your liking?"
"It's certainly an upgrade from the wilderness."
"Ah, you're quite the hard one to impress," Morgan teased, her smile widening. "Nevertheless, welcome to your new home."
Good luck trying to 'fix' Morgan, EMIYA. You've already fallen into Alaya's trap.
Next: Side Chapter, Omake, & Accolon's Status