Knight of Avalon
Chapter-24
Artoria
The Cathedral, Salisbury, 2019 EoHQ:
"Tân! Tân!"
Days before Artoria and her companions reached York, Salisbury's usually peaceful nights were marked by chaos. Flames washed across the Cathedral's cloisters, threatening collapse as the Awel Souders worked frantically to blow away the flames while not setting fire to any more parts of the cathedral.
Most of the Cathedral's occupants had been evacuated, led by Coral while Aurora was away in Camelot to settle some issues of finances with the Seelie Parliament.
Away from the panicked crowd, a lone man stood facing the cathedral's flaming arches. Features could not be made out, for he was but a shadow in the light of the flames, but he tapped a staff impatiently.
The man gave a shake of his head in disappointment before promptly vanishing from the area, reappearing in front of the doors of Hymy pub. While the pub's doors had closed for the day, the man knew better.
He walked up to the doorway and simply phased through it, entering to a meeting of sorts.
The pub's tables and chairs had all been removed, with only a few being joined to together to accommodate the fairies and humans. They were in the middle of an intense discussion, while one fairy sat quietly, sipping their calch wine.
"Ysdyn." The man greeted as he promptly summoned a chair and sat down lazily.
As soon as he did so, the discussion stopped as the fairies and humans turned their attention to him.
"You are late." A human with a bushy beard spoke in annoyance.
The man grinned. "Come on now, give me a break. I was just admiring the fruits of your genius decision to set fire to the Cathedral." He spoke before giving the bartender a piercing stare and gestured to the candy on his table. The bartender gulped and handed the candy jar to the man, who began tossing them into his mouth.
"You guys do know that this gives Aurora ample opportunity to throw you guys into the Morgan's jaws, right?"
"Now that a symbol of resistance has emerged in the north, we must begin dispelling this fear Morgan has created amongst the people. What better way than to show the vulnerability of imperial power, starting with the cathedral where she was crowned?" The same human shot back.
"Lady Aurora herself agreed to it, so that she could extort money from Camelot to fund our recruitment drives in the Earth clan lands, so what exactly is the problem here?"
The man laughed. "Personally, I agree with you, Mr, Fawkes. Mors, I'd set fire to the cathedral if I just felt its burning wood would look better than normal."
The man popped another candy in his mouth.
"But to be the boring old man about to give a boring lecture about politics, you should realise you are a loose end to your dear Lady Áranduil. If they find a connection, she will have much to lose. Best to start gathering evidence to counter any unpleasant accusations. Camelot catches you guys, and it'll be the word of disgraced criminals engaging in high treason against that of one of the Lords of Britain. If they don't, she still gets to fund your recruitment and make life difficult for the poor þræl writing a report back in the Winter Palace."
Fawkes glared at him.
"She is an airhead, with the stupidest of motivations for doing things, but her methods are not stupid at all. 200 years ago, you were valuable in getting that old vegetable Lwgawdys to kick the bucket. Now, all of you hide and torch a bunch of wood while Sheffield sits proud on the corpses of 21000 imperial soldiers and the title of successfully seceding from her majesty's realm."
The man shook his head.
"I think you should have just stuck to sitting on the street and whining about your non-existent rights in the Seelie Parliament."
Fawkes slammed his fist on the table as the other members sent obscenities at the smiling man, who nonchalantly continued eating his candy. Then, the silent fairy raised his hand and all fell silent.
The man smiled.
"Ah, Twnwchw-ty agorwr aichrach myth, Halwberomia?"
Halobaromia, formerly of Aurora's seelie court, gave a hum.
"Wi siwgw pwllnyg nw hyrwr aichrach cairwi fwli, Gwydion."
The man smiled. "Glad you are aware of that at least. So if you could see this coming, why?"
"You are aware of the messenger thief from Sheffield, no?"
The one called 'Gwydion' ate more candy. "Sucking up to the child of prophecy, hm? I wonder if Aurora will like her noble servant dumping her for a village pig."
"Do you always have to assume betrayal? I am a servant of Aurora reaching out to tie in Salisbury with the Sheffield separatists."
"Betrayal can come at any time. It's not always premeditated, only among some ambitious idiots."
Halobaromia sneered at him. "Thank you for your wisdom."
"Whatever, what's done is done. Now…for my proposal." Gwydion flicked his fingers and everyone except Halobaromia slumped in their seats, asleep.
"Aw, look at these poor souls. Their daring operation to set fire to the Cathedral must have left them exhausted."
Halobaromia rolled his eyes in annoyance. "How funny."
"Where is Oberon?"
"Absent from Salisbury since the child of prophecy escaped from the Cathedral."
"That bug is being evasive. I guess the little riddle I gave him back in Gloucester spooked him pretty bad. But anyways, drop the act and let me see that power-hungry look."
"Don't compare me to her. For centuries we have chipped away at the Nameless woods, with Lord Lwgawdys trying his best to bring our lost capital and its riches back into civilisation."
"Ever since she took the ducal office, all our efforts have stopped. For centuries the monarchy has given those bloodthirsty savages in Oxford more respect than us, us who have fed Britain's soldiers even before the Ashen Throne's establishment."
"And when we have the chance to rebuild our former prestige, she chooses to falter because the woods are too 'ugly' for her."
Halobaromia took a sip of Calch wine.
"Hehe, glad to know you're still pissed about her clipping your wings back when she fired you."
Halobaromia's back shuddered as the phantom pains from Awel Souders chopping off his wings came racked his back.
"I desire power for the wind clan. I don't want it for myself."
"Ha! That's what everyone says. Here's a little tidbit. In the system of power, selfishness is the medium which connects desire to reason. Everyone wants power for themselves, it's just why they want it for themselves that's different."
Gwydion walked over to Halobaromia and smiled. "Careful with that self-righteousness, my friend. I've seen old men have children murder their own brothers because of it."
"But anyways, enough philosophy. Let me get to business…"
Gwydion leaned close to Halobaromia and began whispering in his ear. Halobaromia's eyes slowly widened before a dark smile formed on his lips.
"Finally. You speak something worthwhile."
Gwydion smiled innocently before turning around. "Bye, bye, Halobaromia. I need to get to York now. Tell Puck Salisbury's rebels will fully support the child of prophecy."
The man then quickly walked out as the others stirred in their sleep.
"Goodness, it's morning already?" he spoke as he noticed the people still staring at the cathedral, which now had plumes of smoke rising from it.
"Nice. That's enough political drama for one night. It'll be some time before this city tears itself apart." Gwydion spoke stretching his arms before looking at the people gathered around.
"In the meantime…" He promptly shapeshifted into a human in dirty tattered clothes and held a box of bottles.
Gwydion quickly summoned sewer water into those bottles and coloured them differently while coating the bottles with mana to give off the aura of potions
"Let's go scam some idiot fae."
York, 2019 EoHQ:
York. For a village girl who came from the Cornish coast, York felt like a mysterious place on the frontiers of Faerie Britain. Even if the King Clan acknowledge Morgan as their ruler, they were considered too different because of their nature as Northern Fairies. So, York and the lands of the Mirror clan truly felt like the northernmost settlement of the southern fairies, except for perhaps Orkney.
But beyond that, the amount of knowledge that York held was staggering. Artoria couldn't even imagine what magical secrets lay in this desolate city, but even with all that excitement…
"What is it with Britain and ruined cities?" Artoria spoke walking past the chunks of fallen wood and rocks.
"Ah, yes. You've been to Gwyn's city, haven't you? Well, Britain is a deceptive place. Fall prey to its dangers, and it will never let you recover what is lost ever again." Inglewood responded.
"Can't you rebuild this place, Sir Inglewood? Your clan can still use magic?" Anice asked.
"…The Lake District has always been a land of death. It was where the Dragon died, and its spirit haunts these lands like a curse, bringing death and destruction to all those who seek to settle."
"The spirit of the Dragon…" Artoria shuddered, thinking of a massive ghostly dragon lurking around them, watching them hungrily as if they were going to be its next victims.
"Then why don't you guys just leave? Are you trapped here?" Kay spoke.
"Yes. York is our home and our prison. It is the world's way of punishing us for our arrogance and desecration of fate."
Artoria gave a questioning tilt but Inglewood ignored her, his lips pursing in emotion.
"It's here, the jarlþinghús!" Gareth spoke as Artoria stared at a massive longhouse, whose roof had been practically blown off as only a few stone beams remained. The longhouse was primarily made of some sort of metallic wood, which probably had been painted with Lothian emerald dye which had long since faded away. Along with the wood, the pillars were made of stone that supported the house. Broken windows with sjaellvan frames lined the sides while a crystalline bell, which had once hung over the main door, had fallen off and lay on the ground. In front of the longhouse was a sculpture of two fairies, one looking exactly like Inglewood and the other a beautiful woman holding up a book under the shade of a dragon.
Some words were written on the pedestal of the sculpture.
Enn Jarlþinghús
Yggar á Aptr Yggrain 7122
Bá Frøya Försanai
Kanungir bá Frøya Äinsela ok Frør Ingwið
Urð na errek nauði, Þat es ina varði
"…Uð es in raidh tá Avlanni." Inglewood quietly spoke bowing his head before the sculpture before gesturing the group to enter the Jarlþinghús.
The Jarlþinghús' hallway was ruined just like its roof, with chunks of sjaellvan laying about with the stone. On its walls were faded murals inscribed in gold, sjaellvan and Liverpool indigo.
With the rubble, were tables and benches arranged neatly together to seat multiple fae, leaving a pathway to the middle that led up to a raised platform, on which were many shards of sjaellvan crystals scattered across and two broken bases of thrones clearly showing.
"Ooh, do you want to see the murals, Artoria?" Gareth spoke.
Artoria took a look at the murals. A chance to see more of the Mirror clan? The curiosity was unfortunately too much for Artoria to refuse.
Kay slapped her back and beckoned her to go, with Inglewood silently nodding to Gareth.
Artoria stared as Gareth smiled before she grabbed Artoria's hand and brought her over to one of the murals, which depicted several four-armed fae using magic led by a tall fairy with eight arms with hair of silver and gold, wielding a sjaellvan axe against dark shapes with blood-red blades, labelled 'Tiwr ragvets'.
"This is from the Spring war, the battle of the Tees river. We have lady Försanai here wielding Svarðøks against the northern fairies."
"Heh, Tees is where our clan was reborn, from hiding in barrows along the Morimaru to the masters of the Lake district. A shame Svarðøks was lost to Mab." Inglewood noted as he smiled before turning into a pained frown at the mention of Svarðøxs' loss.
Gareth pointed to another mural, which clearly showed Inglewood in shining sjaellvan mail armor wielding a glowing green sword against a female fairy riding a chariot driven by bulls. The fairy had rosy pink hair wearing emerald mail armor over a white tunic and a cloak of wolf fur draped around her shoulders who fought back with a large golden shield and a red three-pointed spear. Inglewood was supported by a woman with golden hair with sapphire tips, wielding a golden staff as she supported Inglewood against the enemy. The label here was 'Tiwr sums'."
I recognise her… Artoria, a distant memory of Gloucester coming back to her.
"I am Cnoc Na Riabh, successor of Mab!"
"The summer war, siege of York. Lord Inglewood and Ainsel held off Queen Mab before Wryneck and the Fang clan arrived with Aesc the saviour."
"Ah, Aesc was celebrated that day for defeating one of Maeve's laoch Finn, but some praise had to be given to my dear Ingwið for stalling Maeve for so long." A different voice spoke.
"Gah!" Artoria jumped back in fright as she suddenly found the same woman from the mural standing right next to her.
"Hello, Artoria. Pleased to meet you." The woman spoke as Inglewood floated next to her.
"Bah, stalling? I would have skewered her pretty emerald armor with Dreksfingr if Aesc hadn't interfered with her water mirror."
"Really? The three gaping holes Éadbir left in your shoulder begs to differ."
"Don't you start with that! Maeve had torn through our siðmanni with that damn spear of hers. The fact that I somehow got away with a shoulder wound even after she'd practically told it to skewer my brain is quite telling!"
"I'm guessing you're Ainsel?" Muramasa drawled as Ainsel nodded.
"Indeed. I am Ainsel, the chosen successor of the great mother Försanai, formerly Duchess of the Mirror Clan. Now…deceased, hehe."
Ainsel turned to look at Artoria, who had shifted a bit away from her and stared at her warily.
Here she was. Ainsel. Like with Inglewood, she was the one who spoke the words that would change her life.
Everything that had led to this moment happened…all because of what she spoke.
At that moment, Artoria felt confused. Scared. Angry. Awestruck. Her mind swirled with different emotions as she gazed at the smiling expression of Ainsel.
Part of her wanted to raise her staff and blast a hole in the fairy, another wanted to simply drop the staff and run away. Outside, her expression remained a scowl.
Ainsel looked at Artoria and her happy smile fell.
"To our guests, welcome to York. I can see neither of you are truly human, so any problems of food are solved."
"Huh?" Gareth spoke as she looked at Kay.
"But Sir Kay looks…"
"He's a ghost like me and Ainsel, Gareth." Inglewood spoke. "Just a different kind."
"W-Wha…?" Gareth touched Kay's armor plating as the knight silently nodding to him, agreeing to what Inglewood just said.
"Anyways, Gareth dear, please take them to any longhouse that is relatively intact. Artoria, please stay."
Kay shook his head. "Lady Ainsel, I do not wish to leave my master alone."
Ainsel looked at Kay, putting a finger to her chin as her crystalline eyes turned dark for a moment before nodding. "You may stay as well, Sir Kay. I have something to say to you as well."
"Alright then, we'll see you at whatever quarters we've got." Muramasa spoke as Gareth led the rest of the group out of the longhouse, leaving Artoria and Kay with Ainsel and Inglewood.
"Now…Let us talk…Avalon le fae." Ainsel spoke, her voice turning a bit softer and her expression turning into one of regret.
Artoria kept her blank scowl as she slightly shifted back.
For moments, Artoria and Ainsel silently regarded each other, neither sure what exactly to say to the other.
Inglewood and Kay stared silently, both aware of the tenseness of the situation and choosing to keep quiet.
Eventually, Ainsel spoke first.
"I know how much my actions have affected your life. I remember that day I addressed the Jarlþing as clear as Kirkwall ice. I understand the pain you went through in Tintagel…"
Ainsel stopped herself and pursed her lips, pausing for a moment.
"…I am sorry for that. Please accept my heartfelt apologies for everything."
…
…
…
…No response from Artoria.
"You are our salvation…"
"Kill him. He was once a lapdog of Morgan."
"Fake!"
"Useless!"
"Our Hero!"
"She is the One!"
"Child of Prophecy!"
"ARTORIA! ARTORIA!"
"SURROUND THE VILLAGE AND DON'T LET ANYONE ESCAPE!"
"No."
Ainsel blinked.
"No you don't." Artoria responded coldly as the tips of her fingers turned black.
"Master…" Kay called out in warning.
"Ainsel…!" Inglewood did as well, moving forward.
"No, not this time, Ingwið!" Ainsel spoke raising her hand.
She stared at Artoria warily, not making a move even when Arawn's curse had started slowly spreading to Artoria's hand.
"How could you ever understand? All this 'understanding', is it because you looked into my past earlier? With that eye trick of yours?" Artoria spoke. Her confused state had started slowly giving in to hatred. The dark curse that plagued her soul twisted, manifesting in her fingers and slowly moving up her arm.
"You weren't there. You weren't there when the people who I once thought my friends worked me to the ground, called me a monstrosity, then celebrate me as a 'hero' by pushing a knife into my hands and sending me to go kill the one fairy who even took a little pity on me."
"…"
"You couldn't possibly have been there when Woodwose burnt down my home, yelling at his soldiers to look for me so that he could drag me to Camelot to become an exhibiton piece for the rich maggots there…"
Her breath quickened.
"After everything, you tell me you understand? You, who started all of this?!" The fairy's voice slowly starting to rise in anger.
"Punish her."
Something spoke again.
"Punish her for her crime. Let her spirit burn."
At that moment, Ainsel's eyes widened as she realised the danger, her arms slowly charging with mana.
But just as the soulless cyan embers of the curse started appearing on Artoria's fingers, a different voice spoke
"Desire will corrupt your mind, Hope will poison your soul."
Artoria gasped softly.
W-What am I doing? Artoria thought as her hatred turned into fear. The curse disappeared.
Ainsel noticed the change and immediately put down her hands, her expression turning relieved.
Artoria stared at her in silence, before frowning and looking down.
"…I can't accept your apology. I…I can't." She spoke softly, her voice cracking.
"Very well. Then I ask for only thing."
Ainsel slowly floated closer to Artoria.
"I ask only for your trust. Can you at least trust us to help you reach the Dragon's corpse safely?"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"I don't know…" Artoria responded.
Ainsel silently stared, before nodding. "Alright then. I will give you some time."
She looked at Kay.
"Please take her to the rest of your group, I'll guide your way there. Once again, I apologise for making her upset."
Kay gently wrapped an arm around Artoria's shoulder.
"Let's go, master."
The two of them turned to walk out, before Inglewood stopped them.
"Sir Kay."
Kay looked back.
"Yes?"
"We know you have been approached by them. Please turn a blind ear to them, otherwise they will make you their slave."
"What? What does he mean by 'them'?" Artoria asked as Kay pursed his lips.
"…I'll tell on the way." He spoke before they walked out, leaving Ainsel and Inglewood in an awkward silence.
Ainsel silently floated to a bench and sat, with Inglewood floating up to her.
"…I know you can take care of yourself, but not putting up defenses when you could see the curse on her arms? You're already dead, don't risk destroying your spirit as well!" Inglewood chided her.
"Ingwið, I…I saw this coming. Yet I still couldn't handle it properly."
"I don't need to remind you how difficult it is to act with knowledge of what is going to happen."
"I know. But, I was still so afraid. I couldn't do it again, not after Melusine…"
Inglewood sat next to her.
"Don't be sad, my dear. Melusine weighs as heavily on my heart as she does on yours. Neither of us can forgive ourselves for what happened to Melusine. But we can't let that influence how we deal with Artoria. She's not the same. If we fall prey to our regrets now, we won't be able to do our duties."
"…"
"She'll come to her senses. Let the shock wear out. We'll talk properly then."
He clasped Ainsel's hand, only for his to pass through.
Ainsel smiled sadly.
"You forgot again, Ingwið."
"…I hate being a ghost."
The two of them shared a smile before standing up.
"…Uð es in rath tá Avlanni." They spoke in unison before disappearing.
"I feel ashamed, Kay." Artoria spoke tiredly as she and Kay walked back.
"Eisen gave us a job. Bring Albion's fang to Norwich, forge a weapon out of it. We'll need help to guide us to that. But I just went and threw a temper tantrum in front of Ainsel…"
"Don't call it a temper tantrum, Artoria. Things have been hard for you, and Ainsel does have a little responsibility by announcing her prophetic visions. It's only natural to feel such anger seeing her."
"No, it's not. It's not natural to try and just destroy her for it. You saw the curse. You saw what I was about to do. If Puck's words didn't come back to me, I could have ruined everything…"
Artoria sighed.
"I feel so useless right now."
Kay remained silent.
"Kay, what did Inglewood say about 'them'?"
"…Just nightcallers. Annoying me last night."
"He didn't make it sound they were just bugging you."
"They were. What Inglewood says doesn't matter. Don't worry about that."
Artoria looked forward. "I don't know what to say, Kay. Do I trust Ainsel? I can't help but feel afraid to just…walk up to her and accept her help. After all, I can't just ignore her part in everything that's happened to me."
She looked up at Kay.
"Please, tell me what should I do."
"You're overthinking it. Ainsel's ready to make amends and help you. You just need to accept it. I don't even think you should be this mad at her. She only spoke what she saw."
"But…"
"I know something to how you feel."
Artoria slightly bristled.
"Kay…"
"And no, it's not like Ainsel's weak attempt to try and make amend. I have experienced something similar. It was towards Merlin. In my Britain, he was the one who gave the prophecy that had your other self become the High King of Britain."
Artoria perked up, her anger dissipating. "Wait, really?"
"It's a bit of a story, but do you want to hear?"
Artoria sighed. "Yes. It'll help me to take my mind away from what just happened."
"Yes. It was before my birth, but I hear back when Merlin was a young boy named Ambrosius, he was summoned by the tyrant Vortigern to seek counsel on how to construct his tower, which would collapse before completion."
"Wait, what? When he was a child? How would a child know about that?"
"It's Merlin, what do you expect?"
"…I see your point."
"Anyways, Ambrosius told Vortigern that his tower would collapse upon because of the tremors of the dragon Albion's struggle underneath."
"You also had Albion?"
"Indeed. The dragon was said to have two halves of its spirit clashing with each other, trying to gain the upper hand over the other ever since its body perished underground. One was the Red Dragon, other was the White Dragon. Most say Ambrosius told Vortigern that the Red Dragon represented the native Britons of the island and the White Dragon represented the foreign Saxons who would invade from the land of Denmark. Merlin told me that in truth, he said the clash is one between not Britons and Saxons, but Humanity and Nature. One wanted to maintain the control it has had over Britain for countless years, the other wanted to break free of that control and steer Britain's destiny in its own independence."
Artoria blinked.
"Humanity and Nature? But why, don't we need natural resources and magic to live?"
"Ignoring that, that conflict spawned the many monsters of Britain as well as the heroes who would slay them. Vortigern was a child of this conflict, created by the White Dragon to take advantage of the collapse of the Roman Empire and throw Britain into utter chaos. His purpose was to tear down human settlements in Britain by throwing its residents into endless war and chaos with each other, before securing Nature's grip over Britain as an island untouched by mankind."
Artoria's widened.
"So, he wasn't just an evil tyrant?"
"No, according to merlin, Vortigern was an agent of Nature's desire to 'bring Britain back to the dark paradise it was when the northern glaciers froze Britain in ice long before the first humans stepped foot' on it."
Artoria shuddered. "That scares me more than Morgan for some reason."
Kay shuddered. "If you had been there in Londinium, Vortigern would have shown you the true meaning of 'Darkness'."
"A-And my other self defeated him?"
"Hm. Merlin predicted that the Red dragon would choose a champion of its own to counter him, to defeat the white dragon and ensure humanity's continued presence on the island. That…That was the prophecy for which Artoria Pendragon was born."
Artoria noticed Kay turn melancholic at that.
"Even before her birth, Artoria had fallen into the clutches of fate. A loveless marriage was engineered between Artoria's parents Uther and Igraine for the sake of Igraine giving birth to the prophesised incarnation of the Red Dragon."
"That…they didn't have feelings for one another? But…but that sounds so…"
"Arranged marriages are quite common for politics, Artoria. But, as someone who deeply loved his wife, I share your sentiments about such marriages. I can't imagine living such a life with Andrivete."
"…"
"Anyways, it only gets worse. You see, becoming the High King of Britain also meant inheriting dark magic of the island, whose origin Merlin traces back to the Old gods predating even the ones my ancestors worshipped but offers no further explanation. Uther, with that dark energy, impregnated his wife with Albion's heart, ensuring it was tied to his child."
Artoria stopped.
"…what?"
"…"
"They…they did that before she was even born?!" Artoria snapped at him.
Artoria thought back to her other self, the one with a happy smile who had chased her around with a wooden sword.
To think that child had already had her path set in stone, her future decided by others before she could even think, let alone speak…The idea, it was too horrible!
"She didn't have a choice…" She whispered in horror. Like her, Artoria Pendragon didn't have a choice in her own life. But she lost that choice even before her birth.
Disgust bubbled in Artoria's belly, as she imagined herself having her freedom of choice being taken away even before her birth all because of some outside forces implanting a mystical force in her to set her on a goal.
"Yes. Safe to say, I punched Merlin when I first heard it from him. It felt nice breaking that bastard's nose, and I wanted to climb on top of him and rain down even more punches until I'd smashed his face into a different shape."
Kay sighed.
"But of course, I realised that that could wait. No matter what happened in the past, we can't let it ruin any chance of salvation in the present."
He ruffled Artoria's hair softly.
"I get your anger towards Ainsel. And I'll tell you one thing. She never really interfered like Merlin did. She only spoke what she saw. It's not fair to be so harsh on her for that."
"I-I know…"
"But don't be harsh on yourself as well. Because of what happened, Artoria Pendragon gave up and locked her heart away from the rest of the world. She tortured herself for years without anyone to console her, and it eventually led to her death."
"I understand you want to do more, that you want to prove to me you are worthy of your title…"
Artoria looked at him in surprise.
"…So I'll come up and tell you I appreciate the effort you're putting. But please, don't punish yourself for losing a little control. You stopped yourself before you could cause some major damage, and I applaud you for that. I've seen many people simply give in to their rage and destroy everyone around them. To hold that back, it's something I wish a friend of mine could do."
Kay held her chin and smiled at her.
"Love yourself, accept your feelings. You'll find no greater peace in life than that."
Artoria stared at him.
"Love yourself…" She whispered.
How many people have ever told her that?
She could only think of Cnoc Na Riabh said it, but even then, she was speaking out of a frustration for her apology. Cnoc Na Riabh saw her as someone with potential, someone who could be strong. It was a kind of twisted sense of care born out of her frustration towards weakness
But Kay…she could hear the genuine kindness behind his words. The person who had insulted and made fun of her more than anyone she has known…
…He cared for Artoria Caster. Not the 'Child of Prophecy', not Cnoc Na Riabh's 'Dragon', but just Artoria Caster.
Artoria started feeling water in her eyes.
"Woah, there. Don't you dare bawl your eyes out in front of me!" Kay snapped at her as Artoria quickly wiped her eyes before clinging onto his arm.
"Kay…can I take a piggyback?"
"W-What?"
"A piggyback."
"I'm not an animal…"
"You're my servant, Kay!"
"Tch, fine. Get on my back then." Kay spoke as his armor turned into a tunic and pants.
Artoria grinned and clambered onto his back as Kay grabbed onto her legs while positioning himself to give her comfort as her arms wrapped around his neck.
"Wow, you're good at this?"
"…I have experience." Kay spoke as his annoyed scowl turned calm before he started walking.
Artoria pressed her head against Kay's shoulder and closed her eyes peacefully, smiling in bliss.
Kay glanced at her in confusion, before a nostalgic smile blossomed on his face as well.
Master and Servant thus continued their walk to their quarters, both of them smiling happily.
A/N: So, after last chapter, I got hit with two causes of delay. First, I lost my laptop charger, so I had to stop using my laptop before I bought a new one. Second, right after that I had indigestion issues. Both are sorted, so here's the chapter. As I write more, the York arc is surprising me with how much stuff I am able to write in it. an arc which I thought would barely last 3 chapters may actually extend a lot more, all because I realised that maybe Artoria wouldn't exactly be too happy to see Ainsel. Even if she just spoke it, the impact the prophecy has had on Artoria's life can't exactly make her chill with the person who spoke it, even if she shouldn't have to.
Because of writing the confrontation, the actual plan I had for this chapter will have to be shelved for the next one, mostly because I didn't expect how much I was able to write with the confrontation and also Kay's story Castoria as well. Damn you LB6 for the vast material you've given me to work with.
Aside from that, you guys can sort of guess what I'm building towards in Salisbury. Since I basically shunted out the village in the Nameless Woods in this city, I decided to give Halobaromia a slightly bigger role than how he was in canon. His characterisation's also a little different, mostly because I wanted to do more with his character given his backstory.
One final thing, first in a long time I liked Fate's depiction of a certain piece of folklore more than more original version with the story of the Red and White Dragon. I really liked the 'man vs the wild' theme that fate seemed to allude to with Vortigern and the White Dragon's motivations as opposed to Artoria and the Red Dragon. Maybe it's because I just came out of reading Beowulf, and I was sort of hooked on the 'man vs wild' theme.
P.S: Beowulf turned out to be much better than I thought. Fucking hell, Hrothgar hugging Beowulf after everything and an old Beowulf reflecting back on his life before his fateful encounter with the dragon actually hit me in ways a lot of myths haven't done. And gods damn it that ending felt such a gut punch considering the themes of inevitable revenge that play out throughout the story. Damn you Britain and Scandinavia, that's another piece of literature added to my special list of 'stories that actually touched my heart'.
Hope you guys enjoyed and constructive criticism is appreciated!
Translations:
(Salish) Ysdyn: Goodmen (A way of saying Gentlemen in Salisbury).
(Salish) Ah, Twnwchw-ty agorwr aichrach myth, Halwberomia: Ah, you've decided to open your mouth, Halobaromia?
(Salish) Wi siwgw pwllnyg nw hyrwr aichrach cairwi fwli, Gwydion: I was silent so that I couldn't hear your foolish words, Gwydion.
(Jarvi) Uð es in raidh tá Avlanni: Knowledge is the road to paradise/enlightenment.
(Jarvi) Tiwr ragvets: War of Winter's End (Spring War)
(Jarvi) Tiwr sums: War of Summer (Summer War)
Sculpture Inscription:
The Jarlthing House
Created 7122 years after the beginning (4878 FE)
By lady Forsanai
Ruled by Lady Ainsel and Lord Inglewood
Fate is not a chain, it is a journey
Foot notes:
Jarlþing: Taking inspiration from the Rain Clan's Thing assembly, the Mirror Clan founded the Jarlþing after the Spring war, which served as Forsanai and later on Ainsel's seelie court. the Jarlþing consisted of all the earls of Yorkshire, but also included commoner fae from the mirror clan, which was done by Ainsel after the Mors War. the Jarlþing would convene every year at the beginning of spring to discuss various topics, and alongside a political unit, was also considered to be a prestigious forum for inventors and scientist to showcase their inventions and propose new theories that could be added to the repositor in York's Grand Library.
Jarlþinghús: The longhouse (A large residential building which had multiple rooms which served as small houses for the fae that lived in them. The longhouse was built based on the principles of community living that the mirror clan followed since the times it lived in barrows along the Morimaru) where the Jarlþing convened.
Lothian Emerald: Despite it's name, Lothian Emerald isn't a crystal, but a metallic ore from the King Clan's most populated region of Lothian as well as the shadow isle of Ireland. Lothian Emerald is the primary source of armor and weapons for the Northern fae and has a rich green colour to it. Lothian emerald dust is used in a dye, and it's most famous for having been used to make Mab's armor during the Summer war. A rarer version of Lothian Emerald.
Battle of the Tees River: The Battle of the Tees river was fought in 5021 FE, towards the later years of the Spring war, between the Mirror Clan and a clan of Northern Fae. While the enemy war chariots and their manipulation of shadows were able to swiftly dodge the Mirror Clan's spells, it was Lady Forsanai and her far stronger crystal magic, channeled through her weapon Svardøks, which turned the tide, leading to the defeat of the Northern Fae. With the battle, Forsanai would claim Albion's corpse for the Mirror clan and establish the city of York near the Lake District.
Siege of York: The Siege of York lasted from 2045-2048 FE, and is considered one of the first major clashes of the Summer War. After the fall of Harrogate, Inglewood and Ainsel rallied the forces of the mirror clan to defend their capital from the massive army of Northern Fae commanded by Mab. Despite numerical superiority, the vast magical knowledge of the Mirror Clan dragged out York's siege to 3 years while Mab waged further war elsewhere, with her Laoch Finn being in charge. The 3-year siege reached its climax when Inglewood faced Mab in single combat. The cataclysmic battle between the two fairies left huge chunks of land vaporised as fighting soldiers had to move away from the suffocating mana radiated by both Mab and Inglewood. Both fairies severely wounded each other, and while sources are conflicting on whether Mab or Inglewood had the upper hand, their battle came to an end when Wryneck and Aesc, victorious from the battle of Sheffield's cliff, arrived with reinforcements to push back the Northern Fae. While the siege ended in victory, the Mirror Clan lost most of its lands to Mab, which would later be established as the territory of the King Clan after Ireland's desolation by the Calamity of Shadows.
Éadbir: The three-pointed spear of Mab, meaning 'All-Killer'. The spear was forged from the Albion's bones by an Aos Sí (Northern Fairy) smith named Logh and forged in its boiling blood (before it cooled down to become Sjaellvan), with which Mab slew the Calamity of the Stars in Lothian and became the Ardri of the Aos Sí. There are many more tales of Mab and Éadbir, but they shall not be talked here.
Dreksfingr: The sword of Inglewood, considered to be the most powerful weapon ever created by the Mirror Clan. Dreksfingr was made in the shape of a dragon claw, earning it its name. With Dreksfingr, Inglewood laid waste to Aos Sí in the Summer War, defeated many calamities that befell the mirror clan and even wounded the Mors King himself before Woodwose struck the final flow. Like Éadbir, this will not discuss all of Dreksfingr's tales.
Response to Reviews:
StoryReiter: Yeah. Considering canon went down the tragic route with Morgan, I want to do something different for her, starting of course with her meeting Ritsuka.
Pelican117: Honestly, I didn't even think people would appreciate that little detail as much as I thought. Kind of surprised by that, but thank you. After seeing how Vivian was, I couldn't resist keeping that dorkiness in her grumpy older self as well. Who knows, maybe that dorkiness is a hopeful sign that Vivian could have a happy ending.
As for the languages, blame LOTR. My mind was 'Huh, so Mr. Tolkien made up an entire language for his fantasy world. Hey, I'm writing a fantasy world, so why don't I do the same'? After that, I decided to try and think 'write in the most pretentious cursive ever' And so, Salish was born. I have 7 languages planned out (Maybe 9), with each having its own script, grammar and philology. So far, I've done Jarvi, Salish and Vox completely. I'm working on Norfolk at the moment.
RolePatrol: Indeed, I've kind of forgotten the thought that made me think of having amnesiac Ritsuka meet Morgan, but I am glad because it helps further with what I've planned for Morgan in this story.
Hatred and Love: Yeah, there'll be more dream cycles coming. While the big reveal itself won't be coming in the near future, I won't do something like delay it to a much, much later part of the story. I still don't think I'm even halfway in getting this story done, so there's still time before that.
Jsmine Lucas: Thanks for the offer, but I plan on developing my drawing skills to eventually create my own artwork for stories.
Kaiser: Thank you. I won't talk about your theory until the question it talks about is answered, as I usually do with my theorycrafter readers.
GuestWithIdeas: True, I mostly center the fall of Camelot around both Gawain's rage and Mordred's jealousy, but I wanted to depict the ramifications of Gareth's death and Lancelot's escape in a more accurate fashion to the setting. This is mostly because of my disdain towards any literature Post-Geoffrey Monmouth in the Arthurian canon because of how much they just slap a High medieval aesthetic and culture on stories set in Sub-Roman Britain (I blame Chretien De Troyes and his obsession with Persian Romance novels that came from Al-Andalus).
Whether or not Kay is summoned to Chaldea shall be seen later on.
I'm so happy you talked about the Captain. It always warms my heart when a reviewer talks about my OCs, because of how much I try to make them characters to care about in an environment that generally doesn't like such characters. The Captain has a sort of bond with Morgan, and I'm excited when I further talk about his past later on.
You are right about Morgan, I do have a little bit of a split personality going on with her, but my depiction of Morgan's barely functioning sanity comes from an artwork of Aesc actually, which showed her on the verge of becoming Morgan. In the artwork, Aesc is dressed in her outfit (2nd acension of Summer Morgan) but her hair is turning platinum with blue like Morgans along with her eyes becoming soulless, as her expression is locked in the classic 'laughing and crying' characteristic of someone who has lost their mind. I can't remember that artwork, but considering it was one of the few artwork of Aesc I saw at the time, it was a bit of an inspiration (Along with stereotypes of witches) which inspired Morgan's near mental breakdown.
