Important A/N: I usually don't post A/Ns on the top of the chapters, but with what happened in this story's reviews recently has gotten me seriously pissed. Let me first apologise by being lenient on THOTSLAYER9000, the troll who I have now blocked because of the amount of racism they were spouting in recent reviews under an alias containing racial slurs. I initially thought by simply ignoring and not falling for their troll reviews, I would be fine. But I didn't consider that other people might not think the same. As a result, about 8-10 reviews in this story have just been THOTSLAYER sending out racist slurs while an anonymous reviewer kept responding and giving the troll more reason to write racist things in the reviews. I've now deleted their more recent reviews to prevent this senseless arguement from continuing, but I am writing this as a warning. I will neither be tolerant of trolls nor of people who encourage them by responding with insults. I will completely ignore trolls from now on, not responding to their reviews, and if I see a reviewer constantly responding to these troll reviews and flooding my reviews with nothing but insults and slurs, I will delete the review if it is anonymous, and I will ask you to stop. Don't do that, and I will block you. Note that I will still ignore shallow, harmless insults, because I think blocking someone for them would just be petty and childish. But racism I will not tolerate. If you have a problem with a troll, take it out of my reviews. Don't make me resort to blocking, I don't like doing that to readers regardless of what they have done.

TL;DR I got mad at a troll and a reviewer, and am now setting boundaries for arguing within the reviews.

Now that that's out of the way, let's get on with the chapter. Sorry for starting off with an A/N.


Knight of Avalon

Chapter-23

Kay, Artoria, Ritsuka

"Our guide, hm?" Kay spoke. "Who sent you?"

"Lady Ainsel and Lord Inglewood of the Mirror clan." Gareth responded.

"...Aren't those two and the rest of the clan dead?" Muramasa asked.

"The mirror clan had foreseen its death, sir. So they took measures to linger in the living world as spirits. They are not fully 'dead', but they are restricted to the ruins of York."

"And how do you know that?" Artoria asked, before Gareth's appearance changed.

For a moment, her skin had turned even more pale, her emerald eyes turned crystalline and her brown hair had taken a golden shade to it.

But just as suddenly, her appearance shifted back to normal.

"Huh…?" Artoria spoke stepping back as the Silent Knight gave a questioning tilt of his head.

He raised his left hand to ask if Artoria was alright.

"Did you see that?" Artoria asked the knight.

The Knight shook his head, before pointing at her and shaking his head.

"O-Oh, so it's just me…" Artoria muttered.

For a second, Gareth really looked like a mirror clan fae there. Artoria thought as Kay frowned at her before turning back to Gareth.

"I…well, I was raised by them. I don't really know a lot. I've grown up in York, and those two have looked after me."

Artoria stared at her before nodding to Kay.

"So you are honest. Perfect. Do you know who we are?"

Gareth smiled sheepishly and scratched her head. "Uh…no? Lord Inglewood just called you 'guests'."

Kay rolled his eyes. "...So they're the cryptic sort. Very well, I guess we're learning more in York then."

"In the morning, however. This is close to the Nightcaller burrows. They will continually harass you throughout the night. I suggest we stay put until dawn and then move."

"I see. Won't these nightcallers overwhelm us?"

"They don't work like that. Their groups are small, sir knight. I suggest we make sure to have an abundant source of light to ward them."

"Ok, then let's make camp."

Gareth looked around. "But where would we make camp?"

"By the village over there, but not too close. It should be a good balance to keep any hostiles out of our backs." Kay spoke as he guided the carriage to a certain spot.

Artoria then tapped her staff.

"Daga prwnin." She chanted as the grass slowly gathered as one and turned into a bunch of wooden logs.

Artoria unsheathed her sword and tapped its blade on one of the logs.

"Tân."

Flames rolled down her blade and set the wood on fire.

"Ys, sigawll ainrach târian." Artoria spoke before pointing her staff and spinning around in a circle, a bounded field of golden light forming where her staff pointed.

Artoria walked up to the bounded field and began pressing her fingers against it.

"Kay. Muramasa. Gareth. Anice…uh…"

Artoria looked at the Silent knight, who simply raised their hand as if to say 'it's alright before sitting on the grass. The rest entered the bounded field, Gareth staring at it.

"Woah…"

Artoria smirked. "Impressed?"

"Oh, no, I'm just fascinated. This is not much compared to Lord Inglewood's…"

Artoria smiled, trying to hide the pain inflicted by Gareth's words on her self-esteem as Muramasa shook his head in disappointment.

"You and ego mix like oil and water, I think you should just give up at this point, squirt." He advised as Kay shook his head.

"Master, if meeting new people is how you wish to fill the abyssal chasm that is your ego, you might as well jump into the Primordial Pit."

"I-It's alright, Ms. Artoria! Your magic feels different from Lord Inglewood's, if that pleases you."

"Really?"

"Yes! I would say if Lord Inglewood's magic were like the silvery moon, yours is like the golden flames."

"Um, uh…I don't really get that."

The two girls then giggled as Anice walked up.

"Hello! I'm Anice, pleased to meet you!"

Gareth gasped. "The iron shield of Sheffield! It's such an honor, milady!"

Anice smiled as the three girls sat down and began chatting with each other. Meanwhile, Kay kept an eye on the rippling air, a sure sign of the invisible nightcallers moving around them.

"So, another one of your colleagues?" Muramasa spoke, glancing at Gareth.

Kay pursed his lips.


"Have you confirmed Lancelot's presence? Is he still in the city?" Kay asked his servant as the two of them walked briskly through Camelot's dungeons.

"No, sir. Lancelot is nowhere to be found."

Kay sighed.

"Grah…that idiot Agravain. He finds out the king doesn't have a penis, and he turns into a vengeful, rabid dog. Now, one of the strongest Round Table Knights is rampaging like a mad man through Camelot, with the queen set to be executed in his arms."

"W-What should we do, Sir Kay?"

"Send word to Kent and East Anglia. Do not let Lancelot reach Dover and run away to Gaul. If he enters Frankish lands, then we have no chance of getting him back peacefully."

"As you say, Sir Kay."

Kay reached Lancelot's cell, whose door had been kicked off its hinges and flung across the hallway, leaving the cell open.

"Agravain?" Kay asked as he slowly stepped into the dark cell, before stopping.

"...My god." Kay whispered, as he noticed a bunch of knights sprawled on the floor, the cell stained red in a pool of blood.

Among the corpses he spotted the three Round Table Knights watching over Lancelot.

Gaheris was slumped against the wall, his chest a gaping hole while his armor was broken and hanging off his dead body.

Agravain had been mutilated, his body showing signs of being mercilessly hacked at by wild swings from a sword, while wisps of dark red energy seemed to radiate from his corpse. Clearly Lancelot had given in to his hatred after all the pain Agravain has caused him in the past few days.

But the most horrifying of all was the third corpse.

Kay knelt next to the young, lifeless face of Gareth. Lancelot's former squire, who had looked up to him like an older brother, lay on the ground, her head having been dashed against the wall with parts of her brain spilling out, while her helmet lay in pieces nearby. Aside from the gruesome head wound, Gareth had no other injuries on her body, as if Lancelot didn't mean to hurt her.

He had seen a lot in his life, even scenes like these before, but Kay couldn't help but gag at the sheer brutality Lancelot had inflicted upon the knights.

His hand brushed against Gareth's cheek, the usually calm seneschal unable to realise that Gareth was dead.

"KAY! Where are they?!" Kay heard a familiar voice as his heart stopped.

Gawain stood at the entrance, about to say something before seeing his siblings' corpses.

Kay slowly turned his head to meet the Orcadian's eyes, before shaking his head.

"No, no, no, no, no, no…" Gawain spoke as he shoved Kay out of the way, picking up Gareth's corpse and cradling her head in his lap.

"WHERE IS THE HEALER?!" Gawain roared at Kay who shook his head.

"Gawain, we're too late to do anything now. They're gone."

Gawain turned silent, before his entire body started trembling as he bent his head down to Gareth's bloodstained chestplate.

Kay looked at his servant numbly. "Bring the cleaners. Take the corpses out."

The servant gulped. "A-As y-you s-say."

Kay then heard silent sobbing, as the mighty knight of the sun mourned his little sister's death. He chose to stand still, allowing Gawain a bit of space as he slumped against the wall.

"What have you done, Lancelot?" He whispered as his mind slowly and slowly thought of the possibilities of this action.

At that moment, Kay swore he heard bells tolling, as if fate was signalling the chaos that was to come. Slowly, Kay's eyes began widening in terror as his heart began racing.

And then, Gawain looked up. His face caked in Gareth's blood, his eyes bloodshot with tears coming out of them. But, his teeth were bared in a wolf-like snarl and his devastated eyes blazed with rage.

"I'm going to kill him, Kay…"

"I'M GOING TO KILL LANCELOT!"


Kay opened his eyes.

"When I saw Gareth's body lying in Lancelot's cell that day, I felt as if I was looking upon the death of Camelot."

Muramasa blinked. "That's a big jump from me just mentioning her name."

"To me, Gareth is where the choice was made. And I realised there would be no turning back."

Kay glanced at Gareth, Artoria and Anice talking before gesturing to Muramasa to follow him. The nightcallers stared at them, but they still weren't making a move.

"Artoria and Guinevre's marriage was an important one. The Britons of Gaul were concerned about the Frankish king Clovis and his expansion into the Gaulish lands while the Roman administration had practically collapsed. In that aftermath, King Leodegrance saw in 'King Arthur' a valuable ally that would make Clovis think twice before invading his lands. Brittany was just as important for us, for it allowed a market for Cornwall's tin while Paris set its eyes on Canterbury."

"Ah, more political lectures?"

"I'll stop. At any rate, the marriage was a delicate balance for us. And then Lancelot had an affair with Guinevre."

"That infamous story…"

"The first to know was me. I managed the imperial household, and every single servant there was spying for me long before Agravain even approached them."

Muramasa's eyes widened. "The Throne doesn't know that detail…"

"Because the importance of our alliance with Brittany far outweighed exposing this little affair, so I kept quiet about it. I was even tempted to approach and help them because they really wanted to help my sister be happy…"

Kay put a hand to his forehead.

"...And then Agravain found out about it."

"I was once proud of that boy for how quickly he could do things. But that day, I truly regretted the speed at which Agravain dealt with the situation. Lancelot imprisoned, Guinevere as well and set for execution, while the public found out about the affair…all in one night."

Muramasa closed his eyes. "A bit too quickly. Was he this excited about exposing those two lovebirds?"

"Yes. The day he imprisoned Lancelot, he confronted me about Artoria's secret. I told him, because he was too smart to fall for any lies. Now, I curse myself for not noticing the mad look in his eyes when I mocked him for asking me whether I knew about the king's secret or not."

Kay looked down.

"And it all ended with four Orcadian royals dying horrible deaths. I did everything I could to prevent Lancelot from leaving Britain. And after seeing Gawain's reaction to Gareth's death, I knew he would bring all of Britain to invade the Frankish lands if it meant he could drag Lancelot back to Camelot."

"Even though Clovis had died by then, and his kingdom had been split among his four sons, a war against the Franks would still cost us a lot. You can't imagine the relief I felt when Lancelot returned to Camelot after regaining his senses."

Kay once again looked at Gareth.

"A Franco-Briton war, a Jutish revolt, the dissolution of our alliance with Brittany, Orkney's secession from the Brittonic kingdoms…so many terrible things could have happened, all because of a young girl's death."

"Seeing Gareth again, even if it is just a fairy who looks like her and bears her name, I feel both sadness and regret."

Muramasa shook his head. "By the kami you round table knights need to just sit down and just talk it out."

Kay smirked. "Honestly, if I ever won a Holy grail war, yes. I would wish to gather these drama queens together and have them talk to each other."
"What is your actual wish?"

"...It's something I don't talk to anyone about. But if you look at my life, you'll probably be able to guess it."

Muramasa glanced at Artoria.

"Do you intend to go back to being enemies with Chaldea after this entire mess is sorted?"

"Yeah. The only people actually from chaldea within your group are the homunculus, Leo and the shield girl, who's lost her memories. Frankly, you guys are technically allies of the Alien God."

"Only because we share an enemy in the form of Morgan."

Muramasa smirked. "What? You're going to join Chaldea too?"

"No. If I join Chaldea, it won't be of my choice. Whether its Ritsuka Fujimaru or Artoria Caster, it'll probably a master who makes me join."

"Huh, I thought you Round table types would fall on your sword for the sake of human history…?"

"I don't have the heart of a hero, Muramasa. I'm too good at observing the selfishness of humans to have that."

Kay's face turned blank. "But I also am…a knight of the round table, as you say so. I thus find myself in conundrum. My solution? I will not join of my own desire. If a master wants me to help, I will not resist. But nothing more."

He then looked at Gareth, who was gawking as a smug Artoria showed her one of her pipe bombs.

"..."

This might be the first time Artoria's actually got someone who's her age. He thought. Despite being the leader, Artoria was also the youngest and most childish at them. Perhaps it would be nice if she found a friend to talk with, not babysitters like himself and Helga.

As Muramasa went back, Kay suddenly noticed the air ripple again.

"Hm?" He wondered as he found himself looking at a humanoid, except…their head was just the skull of a corvid underneath whose sockets were nothing. No eyes being hidden by shadows, but just an actual void. Their body was grey and shrivelled, mostly covered by black feathers while their feet were like the claws of a crow's. Behind their head, a plume of black feathers could be seen. Concealed underneath their tattered robes, a short, dark blade of an unknown metal.

The knight immediately unsheathed his sword, with the Silent Knight joining him as well. The nightcaller didn't make any move, simply staring at Kay…before their eyes lit up.

Kay's scarred eye, shining purple like amethyst, stared at those of the nightcaller's, which were glowing the same way.

It…can see providence too? Kay thought.

The nightcaller's eyes flicked towards Gareth, and for a split second, their eyes turned crimson red and their pupils contracted before returning to normal.

"We await you in his heart. Come alone." Kay heard a raspy disembodied voice before the nightcaller disappeared.

The Silent Knight shook Kay in concern, gesturing if he was fine.

Kay simply frowned. "That nightcaller spoke to me. 'We await you in his heart'." He spoke before returning to his master, who had gotten up with the others.

"Sir Kay, please show me your eyes!" Gareth spoke as Kay blinked before bending down to Gareth's level. The young fairy examined his scarred eye before sighing.

"It's a good thing you're fine. The eyes of nightcaller's are said to curse those who look upon them with impending death."

Curse them…or simply warn them like my own eye does? Kay thought.

"I thought it saw you, but I guess it didn't."

Artoria looked between. "Is Kay ok or do I need to whack him on the head?"

"I appreciate your compassion, master."

"The hell were you doing with that guy? I leave you and seconds later you get into a standoff?"

"Nothing. The nightcaller showed itself to me."

"And it did nothing? Just stood there?"

"Hm…" Kay hummed.

He could tell about what he heard. But…

"We await you in his heart. Come alone."

He was curious about these nightcallers. There was something more to them than simply beasts harassing fairies and humans here as he had been hearing all the way from Salisbury. He could follow the instructions, and investigate…

…Which is a terrible idea. Going alone into potentially dangerous territory without any backup? He was not Gawain.

"It just stood there." Kay replied.

For now, he'd wait. Give himself some time to consider his choices before he decided to pay a visit to these nightcallers.


Just as the darkness of the sky started turning a tinge of blue, the group was off. By the time the sun had fully risen out of the horizon, they had entered the outlying wetlands of Yorkshire.

Thousands of years ago, Yorkshire was teeming with mirror fae strolling around its marshes talking to each other or human slaves and merchants from the warrington travelling to York as a stop before entering the northern highlands.

However, constant wars and the complete annihilation of the mirror clan had taken their toll.

These wetlands were now lifeless, full of Mors corruption that had completely ruined the scenery, with trees dry, the grass turning black and most waterbodies having become Mors pools. Only the orange glow of the morning sun seemed to offer any consolance to this miserable place.

Artoria had heard this was a spot most people avoided to pass through the Lake district and enter King Clan territory…and the mors curse nearly taking her head off showed why.

As soon as their horse's hooves landed on the wet land of Yorkshire, Mors emerged out of Mors pools to attack.
"How much Mors corruption is here?!" Artoria spoke.

"Result of lack of imperial maintenance. I think it's in a way Morgan's attempt to close off the north through the Mors." Kay replied from outside.

"Gareth, is this the only way?!"

"This part of Yorkshire is one of the few ones with smaller Mors pools. I ag lways leave Yorkshire through this path only."

Kay sighed before ducking another curse and responding with his flaming spears, while Artoria stuck her staff's rear end out of the carriage window and shot down Mors while Anice used her shield to block the curses. Mors that tried to ensnare or kill the horses were quickly cut down by the Silent Knight.

Gareth simply sat confused, unable to really do much from her position, looking at the others nervously. Besides, the inside of the carriage wasn't spacious for her to use her lance.

I feel kind of bad for her. Artoria thought, before gagging as a dark tendril from a mors puddle shot up and wrapped itself around her neck.

However, Gareth quickly pulled out a sjaellvan dagger and cut it off.

"Thanks…" Artoria spoke with a cough.

Gareth smiled before Artoria had an idea.

"Kay! Put Gareth on the coachman's seat."

Kay glanced at her before nodding.

"Got it."

Kay and the Silent Knight stopped the carriage before jumping off.

"Strike flame." Kay spoke before swinging his sword to send a massive arc of flames that travelled far, burning away Mors that got caught in it.

On the other side, the Silent Knight stabbed his sword into the ground, which let out a sound loud as thunder and sent a shockwave ripping through the mors.

"Ok, Gareth, get your lance and your shield!" Kay ordered as Artoria grinned at a surprised Gareth before slapping her back as Gareth quickly brought up her lance and took her place beside Kay, while the Silent Knight grabbed onto a door to hang off the carriage.

Kay quickly beckoned the horses to start galloping again, this time with Gareth's lance extending to impale any Mors that attempted to get close to the carriage.

For a couple of hours, there was no sound but that of battle amongst the travelers, their carriage moving through the muddy terrain of Yorkshire under the slowly darkening cloudy sky. No one spoke a word, but all worked together to keep the Mors from damaging their carriage.

Artoria was slowly getting tired from the hours of warding away Mors, before she noticed the silhouette of a massive house-like building, which also had a tall tower sticking out that had crystal objects floating around it.

"We're getting close! There's the crystal tower that is part of the grand library!" Gareth exclaimed as Artoria breathed a sigh of relief.

Finally. She thought as they slowly approached what looked like the ruins of glistening silver walls, much shorter than anything like Sheffield's but still quite well fortified. Above the gate hung a green banner emblazoned with the symbol of a white dragon on it. The banner of the Mirror clan.

Behind the walls loomed massive longhouses with glittering fabric stitched on their rooftops. Or at least, they would if not for the huge chunks missing off the houses, as if they had been burnt by some sort of powerful fire.

"More Mors!" Kay called as Artoria noticed Mors form from a bunch of pools near the walls.

Artoria raised her staff to shoot them down…

"Oth, Svartseið!" A voice spoke as the walls suddenly lit up with spells, the mors immediately disintegrating.

Artoria looked up to see a bunch of ghosts with multiple arms and crystalline blue eyes like sapphires looking down on them, dressed in plated armor and conical helmets with a noseguard. In their hands were longaxes and short swords.

"Good job, Gareth." An extremely powerful voice spoke as another ghost appeared, larger than the other ones and dressed in pure white robes that took Artoria's breath away.

"Sir Inglewood!" Gareth spoke as she jumped off the carriage and walked up beside him.

Inglewood silently stared at the group, Artoria fidgeting nervously under his piercing gaze as Kay put a hand on her shoulder.

The fairy floated over to Artoria and regarded her silently, completely ignoring the glare Kay sent as he stood beside his master.

"U-Um, h-hello, Lord Inglewood?" Artoria asked nervously before bowing slightly.

One of Inglewood's arms grabbed Artoria's chin and brought up her head, her nervous eyes looking upon his sapphire, pupilless ones.

Inglewood frowned at her silently before letting go of her.

"Avlani…" Inglewood spoke before floating back to Gareth.

"So, do you mind explaining what that was?" Muramasa asked.

"Examination, lapdog of the foreign world." Inglewood responded before shaking his head.

"Oh, my apologies. That was a bit uncalled for." He spoke before bowing his head slightly to Artoria.

"You do not need to introduce anything, Avlani. After all, it was me and Ainsel who sealed your fate…"

At that moment, Artoria remembered who gave the 'prophecy' that she was a part of.

Her eyes narrowed in slight anger. So everything, from the abuse at Tintagel, Woodwose burning it down, Ector dying to save her, Salisbury, Cornwall, Sheffield…

…Everything was because of that damned prophecy.

"If you want to blame someone for your misery, blame everyone around you…including yourself. You could have avoided all this by running away and never looking back at it again…"

"...But you chose to stay on that path."

Artoria scowled at him. "I did, because it's too late to move away from that path."

"...Because you are terrified of the judgement of the world, especially those you have made friends with."

Artoria hesitated for a second.

"Sir Inglewood, do you really have to argue like this with our guests?" Gareth asked crossing her arms.

"...No, I don't have to. Please accept my apologies." Inglewood spoke bowing further down.

"Whatever your motivation, you are here, and mine and Ainsel's part in this story has begun."

The gates of York opened behind Inglewood.

"I, Earl Inglewood of Harrogate, Welcome you to Jarvik, the crystal city. Please don't mind the desolation, we're currently…incapacitated."

Gareth snickered as Artoria looked at Kay.

"I don't like this guy…"

"Eh, don't worry. I know people like him. Blunt like a boulder, but not malicious. I don't think this guy actually hates you. Just treat him like me, insulting but nice."

Artoria deadpanned at him. "Except, he has enough magical power to transform me into a buck-naked goblin."

"Hehe, that won't work. There won't be any trasnformation, after all."

Artoria punched Kay's side in annoyance before grunting as her fingers hit against cold metal.

Kay laughed as Inglewood shook his head.

"Oh dear, it's like Aesc and Grímr all over again." He spoke. "Come on in, you lot. Ainsel is waiting for you in the Jarlþinghús."

As Artoria's group walked in, the fairy wondered about Inglewood's comment on Aesc and Grímr.

To think that Morgan was once in my position, maybe getting teased like I was… Artoria thought. She couldn't imagine her face being on the high queen's body, let alone the high queen being a nervous whelp like her at a point of time.

She did wonder whether any part of Morgan still resembled the image of Aesc?


Stain Harbour, Norwich, 2019 EoHQ:

As the pitch-dark skies slowly turned grey with the sun's rays, Stain harbour would call out with a cacophony of voices coming from Gloucestrans, Norfolk, Salish and Eirú merchants docking their ships to communicate with each other. Another part of the harbour was also a shipyard for Norwich's vast navy, which was the only part of the city that so far did not get its materials produced by Ironwood's factories, having its own voices of Waches coming out to clash against the instructions from captains to trading ships.

However, in recent times Stain Harbour's morning would only be marked by one set of voices.

"Þræl carls! Beoth inn üre gudmunds!" The Captain barked out instructions to the entire Slave Knight garrison of Norwich, who had completely turned Stain harbor into a military encampment in preparations for the calamity.

"Ja, Þan carl!" The Slave Knights responded, their collective shout being heard across Norwich. The poor workers had often cursed them out for disturbing their sleep so early in the morning.

"Seoþ þē tarn! Þórweōlcen rund Tarnhubstān fær!"

The Slave Knights turned around in one fluid motion, before starting to march around the harbour.

"Drall Köpitan." A high-ranking Wache came up, nervously looking at the expressionless helmets of the slave knights.

"Sprekht."

"Shie hersinth."

"Hm. Ruhfen Hermia und Tristram."

"Ja."

"Wache?"

"J-Ja?"

"Do nen makhen ithsprekh in Norfolken inith. Sprekht in der stimmen von die Hokhe Königin."

"Forgive me, sir! I will not make the same mistake."

"You are dismissed."

The Wache bowed and left the grounds. Eventually, Hermia and Tristram showed up.

"Þræl Hermia. Þræl Tristram."

"What do you need us for, Captain?"

"We have visitors." The Captain spoke. "This part of the harbour has been blocked off to anyone who is not a Þræl."

Hermia's eyes widened. "You don't mean…"

At that moment, two crows descended from the sky, one with light blue eyes and the other with blood-red ones. The crows landed on the ground and turned into Morgan and Tam Lin Tristan. Tristan was dressed in a red coat with a black fur cloak around her, the red coat shining with golden embroidery depicting quite a macabre scene of humanoids massacring each other from the bottom, before the top depicted in a wavy pattern human and fae alike bowing down to a single fairy having a blue crown on their head. Underneath her coat, Tristan wore a sleeveless pink gown of welsh silk with her long red gloves on her forearms with shining necklaces of sjaellvan and gold adorning her neck. On her head, Tristan wore an outrageous Gloucestran hat of pink, red and white with the symbol of Count embroidered on it.

Next to her, in a contrasting appearance, the High queen wasn't wearing her jewel-like Water Crown. Her coat was a slightly greyish-white whose embroidery was minimal and more crude than Tristan's. Underneath that, Morgan wore an indigo gown woven from simple Manchester cotton. There was no jewellery, and her face only had a blue lipstick as make-up. Most surprising of all, Morgan was wearing round spectacles like a scholar.

Unlike her flamboyant daughter, Morgan was quite simple in her dress. Hermia struggled to see this beautiful but simple woman as the High Queen of Britain.

The Captain promptly fell to his knees.

"Mæstress." He spoke as Morgan nodded to him while Tristan grinned at him happily.

Hermia's mouth fell open as her mind took a few seconds to process what had just happened.

Morgan's eyes flicked to her, with a strange glint of amusement to them. The corners of her mouth even gave the tiniest of smirks when she saw Hermia.

"Hm, no need to bow, Hermia." She spoke as Hermia quickly stopped herself from bowing.

"Your majesty, I didn't know you were coming…"

"No one except my Slave Knights know. That decadent gold lover is probably snoring like a giant in his castle. He doesn't need my august presence to disturb his sleep at the crack of the morning light." Morgan remarked sarcastically.

"Mother, he's still bowing~" Tristan complained as Morgan sighed.

"You don't need my verbal approval. I nod, you stand. Understand?" She spoke as the Captain got up.

"...Yes, your majesty."

Morgan gave him a disbelieving look before looking at Hermia.

"Anyways, you couldn't capture the separatists?"

Tristram pursed his lips. "No, your majesty."

"What? You let the pig slip between your fingers?!" Tam Lin Tristan spoke.

"I-I have you failed you, your majesty. My apologies." Hermia spoke.

"You indeed have failed. But I accept your apology." Morgan responded. "Anyways, logic dictates they will have to come back to this city. The calamity won't let them abandon it, after all."

"We are keeping an eye out for them. Last reports were from Leeds that they were heading north."

Morgan furrowed her eyebrows. "...North? Interesting…there's many options for them to take refuge. Too many things in fact. Send a message to Salisbury. Tell Lancelot to head north and search for them."

"Capture?"

"No, the ensuing battle would cause too much damage for those Bogdwellers to ignore. We'll be facing a premature war while still preoccupied with the calamity. I only want information on what they intend to do in the north, whether its approaching Cnoc Na Riabh in Edinburgh or heading to the mors-infested marshes of Yorkshire."

"Very well."

"How is Project Jærnscæp progressing?"

"Nearing completion. There have been increased protests by Norwich's workers against the secrecy of this project, but they are too late to stop us."

"Good, the last thing I want is for Camelot to suffer another embarrassment after Sheffield."

"Mother, think everything's going fine around here. Why don't you let the poor man go now?" Tristan asked her mother.

"...Alright. I have heard what I need to hear. You are dismissed."

"Great! Come on, show me around the harbour now!" Tristan spoke wrapping her arm around the Captain's as he sighed.

"Right, right. Come on now."

"I didn't think the Captain and Tam Lin Tristan would be close." Hermia commented as she watched the two walk away.

"The Captain grew up in the Winter Palace. Whenever he wasn't training, he was spending time with me and my daughter. She sees him as a little brother."

Hermia blinked. "Wait, but wouldn't that mean he's your…"

"I adopted him. Beyond that, his past is only his to tell. He asked me to promise that to him. Now, come walk with me."

"O-Okay…"

With that, Hermia found herself taking a casual morning stroll with the most powerful person in all of Britain. But that person didn't even seem to be like the terrifying force she'd seen in the Seelie parliament.

Right now, Morgan's expression had significantly loosened, her ice-cold stare now seeming soft like snowflakes. Her shoulders slightly drooped as the usually prim and proper queen walked with a slight slouch.

"So, you are wondering why the high queen of britain is dressed almost like a commoner?"

Aside from the cloak, I do wonder. Hermia thought.

"Well, the answer should be obvious. My clothing sense is terrible. I was raised to understand its importance in a royal appearance, but beyond that, it bores me. I only cared about which withering text from the Grand Library of York I was going to drown in. I would be…what do those Gloucestran magazines call it again…ah right, a 'nerd'."

Hermia couldn't help but snicker at the word 'nerd' coming out of Morgan's mouth, but immediately shut up as the queen's gaze turned to her.

"Oh dear, that was a mistake." Morgan spoke shaking her head. "I would appreciate it if you didn't go around spouting this nonsense to people."

"Yes, your majesty." Hermia replied with a smile.

"Anyways, even after I became Queen, I always preferred dressing simply. More practical and logical in my head. Now my daughter, I'm afraid the whatever Mors dung Gloucester ships out of its 'fashion stores' have corrupted her mind, as you can see."

Hermia shuddered as she remembered Tristan's hat.

Morgan shook her head. "It would have been so much better if I took her to one of Oxford's Ciblocii. Eating their food would create a better interest than Gloucestran fashion."

She's sound a lot like…an old woman for some reason? Hermia thought.

Morgan's lips twitched.

"I am an old woman, despite my youthful look."

"Wha…how did you…?"

Morgan tapped a spot next to her eyes. "My eyes can look into what people are thinking of me. So do be careful."

Hermia groaned before the two of them stopped. Despite Norwich's texture being corruption by its factories, for a brief time, the sun would make an appearance before disappearing behind the dark clouds of smoke.

Morgan immediately stopped and stared at the rising sun.

"Ah, it's a shame Norwich can only see light in the beginning and at the end of the day. As valuable as Spriggan's factories are, they've ruined this city. Ruined its beautiful grove of Iron and its rich past." Morgan remarked.

"I would have loved it if Norwich's wondrous automations and technology could coexist with its natural beauty. Seeing automaton workers tending to the iron trees of Haernwit would have been a beautiful sight to see."

Hermia shifted a bit. It was so strange to see Morgan so…excited and passionate about something. It was as if she were interacting with a different person.

"You really have a fascination with Ironwood."

"If you had seen Ironwood back in the days of Caer Went, you would be surprised that this place would go on to become the congested hill of factories we see today."

Hermia nodded. "But anyways, I didn't know you were this diligent about the calamities?"

"The calamities are part of the reason why I became Queen. Britain has a huge amount of magic and resources that can be used to combat them, however, due to disunity these resources were often disorganised. Me, who had been fighting calamities for a long, long time eventually got tired of this and so I decided to organise Britain into a kingdom, one that would fully utilise its potential to ensure its security. And since then, I have done my job much better than I used to."

"Your job?"

Morgan suddenly stopped, her expression showing a bit of hesitation at Hermia's question.

"I…yes."

She then turned towards Hermia.

"...Back when I was named Aesc."

"Aesc…? Wait, wait, wait. You…you're Aesc the saviour?!"

Hermia simply gaped at Morgan. Morgan had told her about Aesc, how her method of fighting calamities, while noble and having saved lives, was in the end not enough. She had ranted on how Aesc was unable to truly maintain order in Britain, only appearing when necessary and then getting chased away by the fae.

"So, all this time…you've been insulting yourself?" She asked.

Morgan looked away slightly, for the first time looking unsure what to say to her.

She then closed her eyes.

"Sometimes, the best critic to someone is often their own self. I could criticise Aesc so well and with so much depth because the both of us are the same person."

"But…but…I'm sorry, this feel so…"

"I understand. How could the 'great hero' Aesc end up as this cold, emotionless rock of a queen? That's a question I ask myself sometimes. And my answer is usually the same."

Morgan's ice-cold glare returned, now directed towards the city.

"Them. Fae folk."

Hermia shifted nervously and avoided Morgan's gaze.

"Um…"

"They are scum. Selfish scum. They can't take their lives seriously, they gloat their pleasures and luxuries upon the backs of their human slaves, and everything is like a toy to them."

"I tried, I tried what I could to be kind to them. To fulfill my promise to them…"

Them? Hermia thought.

"But I realise I can only do that by teaching them fear and consequences. Once they fear the consequences of their actions, they become obedient. To keep them happy, I refined the human slavery to make sure their human toys keep them satisfied…"

The more Morgan went, the more Hermia got scared. For a brief moment, Morgan's icy eyes turned into a raging wave, her expression slowly and slowly turning crazed as her eyes went wide, darting about in insanity as she continued talking about the fae. Her back stooped even further, and her fingers curled in maniacal rage.

Within moments, the aloof queen she'd first met had reduced to an insane witch, rambling and cursing the people of Britain with eyes filled with nothing but paranoia and sorrow. At some point, Hermia could feel that she wasn't even talking to her anymore, but to someone, some invisible person.

She…she looks so…broken. Hermia thought. She couldn't even see the proud image of Aesc the saviour that so many fae besides Morgan had painted. All she could see was just….a lone woman who was struggling with her mental health.

At that moment, Hermia's hand went out and touched Morgan's shoulder.

"Your majesty, please calm down."

The queen stopped as her head snapped at Hermia, the girl's heart nearly jumping to her throat as Morgan's wide, glowing eyes stared right into her soul.

For moments, Morgan kept that soul-piercing stare before her eyes dimmed, her eyebrows raised in surprise and her mouth fell slightly open.

She straightened her back, and stared at Hermia in confusion, before taking a calm look and cleared her throat.

Hermia nodded slightly. "Your majesty…I didn't realise…"

Morgan sighed, before putting a palm on her forehead. "I lost control. How did I lose control?" She whispered to herself, in a slightly panicked tone.

"Why? Why? Why? Why did I…?

"Your majesty…you really shouldn't bottle this up." Hermia spoke as Morgan looked at her in confusion.

"Please don't be so hard on yourself. I may have lost my memories, but I feel what suppressing those feelings could do to you."

Hermia then clasped her hands together.

"If you…I-If you need to let out your emotions, you can talk to me. I'm a good…listener…" She spoke.

What am I doing?! She screamed in her mind. She was still a servant to Morgan, how could she even speak to the quee as if she was…

"Ha…ha…"

Huh?

"Hahahaha…"

Hermia heard laughter. Laughter that was clearer than water, brighter than the sun and softer than snow. But it was beautiful. Enchantingly beautiful.

She slowly looked up to see Morgan, no, Aesc, who had a wide but soft smile on her face, laughing. Her eyes were closed but tranquil as she laughed with joy.

For a split second, Hermia saw a young blonde girl with a coned white hat and round spectacles laughing happily before her vision came back to Morgan again.

Once she was done laughing, Morgan sighed.

"Very well, if you insist."

And then, her face turned stone-cold.

"But dare mention this to anyone…"

Hermia shook her head vigorously.

"...Good. Now let's move on."

With that, Hermia and Morgan returned to their stroll, the queen having returned to that icy persona Hermia and all of Britain knew of.

It's a strange feeling. Hermia thought. Even though she couldn't remember anything, she still wanted to help Morgan, out of a sense of gratitude and understanding. Where the understanding came from, she had no idea.

But what she did know that at that time, she had witnessed the true person behind Morgan, the High Queen of Britain.

She had witnessed Aesc the saviour.


A/N: Now for the kind of A/N I like. For starters, the languages that I'm building for faerie britain are no longer supposed to be accurate representations of IRL languages. I initially was wanting to make languages like Old Orknö and Norfolk just be Lostbelt versions of Anglo Saxon English and German without much difference, LOTR and Dune spoilt my brain and I decided to build my own grammar, syntax and morphology of these languages. Norfolk is not meant to be a realistic depiction of German, I have just picked up words from IRL languages, distorted their spelling and placed them according to the grammar I have created for these languages. I'm just putting this out in case someone mistakes the Norfolk sentences as just bad German.

Also, eureka has shined its light upon my mind. I now have a proper idea how Part-2 of this story was going to progress. Earlier, I had set that Part-2 will end with the Calamity of Norwich but I had no idea how to get to it. Now, I have a roadmap planned out and I'll try to pick up the pace so that Part-2 is done. Onto chapter things, I don't remember but I'm pretty sure there were these nightcaller enemies back in the Salisbury segment of LB6. Now, they're more like just reskins of the Garuda enemies back in LB4, but I decided to expand further upon the Nightcallers in this story. The nightcallers are based on the Nachtkrapp with my own creative liberties put into them (Which, funny story, I forgot to add elements from the Nachtkrapp's folklore into the nightcaller until I realised that I accidentally got a bunch of details right long after I had designed the Nightcallers in this story) and they'll be explored upon.

Aside from that, the group has reached York. I'm actually surprised at the amount of dialogue I was able to write between Norwich and York, I honestly thought it would come a bit sooner. But whatever, I'm satisfied with the extra character interaction I could put in.

Finally, Ritsuka and Morgan. Boy oh boy, was I excited to write their relationship. You guys can pretty much see where this is going, so I decided to start building the relationship before the inevitable confrontation. I honestly like the idea of Morgan being just a nerdy dork who doesn't really care for much beyond books when she's not being the big scary High Queen of Britain.

Hope you guys enjoyed and constructive criticism is appreciated!


Translations:

(Salish) Daga Prwnin: Wooden Earth (transforming the soil into wood)

(Salish) Tân : Fire (summon flames)

(Salish) Ys, sigawll ainrach târian: Light, be our shield (Bounded field of light)

(Jarvi) Oth, Svartseið: Out, dark magic (Ward against Mors). Due to the nature of Mors as curses, the Mirror clan refer to them as 'dark magic' or Svartseið in Jarvi.

(Old Orknö) Þræl carls! Beoth inn üre gudmunds!: Slave Knights! Be in your good minds (A way of saying 'Attention!' among the Slave Knights)

(Old Orlnö) Seoþ þe tarn! Þórlweōlcen rund Tarnhubstān fær! : Face the sea! March around Stain Harbour four times!

(Old Orknö) Ja, Þan carl! : Yes, captain!

(Norfolk) Drall Köpitan: Slave Captain.

(Norfolk) Sprekht : Speak.

(Norfolk) Shie Hersinth : They are here.

(Norfolk) Hm. Ruhfen Hermia und Tristram: Hm. Call Hermia and Tristram.

(Norfolk) Do nen makhe ithsprekh in Norfolken inith. Sprekht in der stimmen von die Hokhe Königin. : Do not speak to me in Norfolk again. Speak in the voice of the High Queen.


Foot Notes:

Nightcallers: Strange fairies that can be found in the lake district. Their history is practically unknown, having just existed to constantly pester the mirror clan.

Yorkshire: The wetlands located on the outskirts of the Lake district, created from the corpses of dead Rain Clan fairies who fell during the Spring War. In these wetlands, the mirror clan built its cities like Harrogate and York. However, with the massacre of Mirror clan, Yorkshire has become inhabitable due to overwhelming amounts of Mors corruption.

Crystal City of York: York received the name 'the Crystal city' due to the beautiful Sjaellvan coats that were spread on its houses as well as York having multiple towers made of pure Sjaellvan crystals in its heyday.

Harrogate: If the Warrington belt is Britain's wall against the dangers of the north, Harrogate was the frontier, guarding the Bjarfustr pass in the Forest of Yorkshire which led into the lands of the King Clan, governed by Inglewood of the Mirror clan after the end of the Summer war. With the Mirror Clan's massacre, the Fang Clan was given the earldom of Harrogate, which they now use to monitor movement into the Northern highlands.

Stain harbour: Set up in 1345 EoHQ, Stain harbour was from where the transformation of Caer Went into Norwich began. It is the economic backbone of British trade, and competed with the Gloucestran-controlled Watling street with its maritime access to cities across Britain. Stain harbour contributed to the culture of commerce in Norwich, with some of its most influential merchants going on to found the Guild County of Norwich.

Welsh Silk: The insectoid fae folk of Wales are a rich source for fine-quality silk. A lot of Gloucester's ranches are located close to the nests of the welsh fae, so that human harvesting parties can be sent to farm fine quality silk. How they farm it...is something Gloucester keeps a secret.

Liverpool embroidery: Manchester and Liverpool once used to be cities of the Wing Clan before its subsequent massacre by the fang clan. Once the fang clan took over the two cities, their warlike culture intermingled with the well-established textile industries of Manchester and Liverpool to create a style of embroidery that depicted victory in war. For centuries, Liverpool supplied the Winter palace with embroidery depicted scenes of Morgan's victory in the Winter War and the military growth of Britain within her reign.

Manchester Cotton: With Manchester's huge reserve of cotton seeds (Which are in truth the corpses of wing fairies), it is the foremost textile center in all of Britain. For her service in the Caterpillar War, Tam Lin Gawain was given the Earldom of Manchester as a gift by Morgan. Ever since then, Spriggan has extended his control towards Manchester by introducing machines created in Ironwood's factories to encourage production in Manchester's cotton mills.

Water Crown: Morgan's Water crown is made from Kirkwall ice, the rarest substance in all of Faerie Britain which is harder than diamond and makes even Sjaellvan pale in comparison. Kirkwall ice could only be found in small amounts in Orkney, and only Rain fae knew how to acquire it. Thus, the water crown is Kirkwall Ice painted with black and blue dye to reflect the colours of Orkney.


Response to Reviews:

Guest (1) : Glad you liked it.

Observing the Stars: Indeed.

RolePatrol: I know. I honestly think Nasu could have written a book including more and more details about faerie britain. 14000 years of history is a long time, and you could put so much stuff into it.

Yeah, no. I'm not responding to any reviews after this point. Whoever was responding to the troll reviews, I'm warning you again. Ignore the troll, move on. Their stuff is directed at me, and I don't give a shit. Don't encourage them by getting mad on my behalf.