Knight of Avalon
Chapter-18
Ritsuka, Artoria
Winter Palace, Camelot, 2019 EoHQ:
Hermia found Mr. Gut lounging by a pillar in the morning, examining his knife.
She had been introduced to him shortly after she met Queen Morgan, the man expressing a desire to meet her.
Apparently, Mr. Gut knew her before she lost her memories, and revealed that she and Tristram came from another world. His world, something which Queen Morgan had confirmed as well. Mr. Gut had said that he would help her in regaining her memories, and also offered to help Hermia with her magecraft.
Ever since then, Hermia felt a sense of trust within Mr. Gut, knowing that he was from her home and was familiar with her, although he did give off a creepy vibe smiling at fairies with the shine of his glasses hiding his eyes.
"Well, well, look who it is! Good morning~" Mr. Gut spoke cheerfully as Hermia smiled and bowed.
"Good morning, Mr. Gut." She spoke.
"Up again so early eh, lass?" Mr. Gut spoke in his funny accent.
Hermia smiled sheepishly. "Yes, Mr. Gut."
Mr. Gut wrapped an arm around Hermia's shoulder. "Good. Morning's always a great time to go, especially after a miserable night."
"Right, you…lost against the Sheffield Separatists?" Hermia spoke with a frown.
"...Yes. I was up against a mage from our world, who was much stronger than me. A Futhark Rune user, to be specific."
Hermia tilted her head. "But didn't you say that you have runes too?"
Mr. Gut smirked. "Ogham isn't like Futhark. You can't inscribe Ogham runes and instantly expect results like Futhark runes. Their thaumaturgical foundations are too different for that."
Another magecraft lesson… Hermia thought with a slight groan. Still, she nodded.
"Remember, most of the local British magecraft in our world have their thaumaturgical foundation in the island itself. Britain's trees and the soul of the isle that flows within their trunks are the source of my magecraft. In Scandinavia, where the mage I fought was from, the thaumaturgical foundation is the cosmic texture that is supported by the world tree Yggdrasil, upon which the Futhark Runes are inscribed to mold and shape that texture to produce results."
"Ok, so what's the difference again?"
"The difference is that I'm from the Age of Man. In the age of gods, the Celts of Britain believed each of the trees they saw around them had some symbolic meaning. Take the Yew tree for example. In the past, the Yew tree alongside the Apple tree was a symbol of rebirth, for if a branch of a dying Yew tree fell on the ground, it would soon sprout into a new Yew tree. It almost seemed like the trees would die and come back to life, like rebirth."
"Woah…" Hermia spoke.
"But now…the reason for this 'rebirth' is vegetative reproduction. There is no mystical attribute modern humanity attaches to the Yew tree. To them, the Yew tree never 'dies'. It merely regenerates after growing too old. I suppose that can be construed as immortality, but more in a 'scientific' sense than a magical one, if you get my drift."
"So, how do you perform your magecraft, if the trees you say aren't...magical?"
"That's where Ogham comes in. Thanks to the Romans and the Germanic people, Ogham ceased to be a common runic script before the birth of King Arthur…oops, Artoria Pendragon. It is only seen as a mystical script used by the druids even in the age of man and retains its mystery, including the connection between its symbols and the 'magical' trees of the Age of Gods."
"Oh…" Hermia spoke in realisation. "So, they make the trees magical, in simple terms?"
"Spot on. Without Ogham, the tree bark I use simply remains tree bark. If I don't inscribe it, the bark does not take upon the mystical properties it had. That applies to Faerie Britain as much as Post-500 AD Britain. If I were a celtic druid from the age of gods, I wouldn't need Ogham. Just using the tree bark on my body would suffice."
Mr. Gut then laughed. "God, people see me as a bloodthirsty killer, yet you manage to bring out my other hobbies as well."
"You like plants?"
"Of course! If I'm not spilling blood, I'm tending to my flowers in the garden!" Mr. Gut spoke with a sigh.
"Wish humans were as beautiful as flowers." He spoke wistfully before smirking at Hermia.
"Come on, now. The Seelie Parliament's about to start." Mr. Gut spoke before the two humans headed off to the Winter Hall.
Once inside, Hermia sat with Mr. Gut near Queen Morgan's throne. The Seelie Parliament itself was not in a calm mood. Whispers about what had happened at Sheffield were flying about in the place.
Morgan sat silently with her eyes closed as the lords watched the parliament session from their palaces in their cities.
"They say we lost 2/3rd of the army!"
"How could these separatists evne overcome Camelot's armies!"
"Even the Tam Lin couldn't beat them! What were they even doing?!"
"Has the peace weakened us more than we imagined?"
Secretary Meredick turned to Morgan. "Your majesty, shall we begin?"
Morgan opened her eyes and nodded.
"Our forces report a strange cone-like vehicle holding back our forces by itself!"
"And there was a single knight massacring our slave knight. A SINGLE knight!"
"What about that sphere of darkness that wiped out most of our army?!"
"...Silence."
Although delivered in a soft voice, that one word shut up every single fairy within the Seelie Parliament. Even Hermia shivered slightly, Morgan's cold voice sending a slight chill up her spine, as wisps of ash snaked around her cheek. With her dull blue eyes slightly glowing, Morgan almost seemed like a terrifying monster compared to the polite, soft-spoken and kind woman she'd first met.
"Chill, Hermie." Mr. Gut spoke. "She's not mad at you."
"E-Easier s-said than d-done." Hermia spoke.
"We may discuss Sheffield further in the parliament session. Now, under my authority as the High Queen of Britain, I declare this Seelie Parliament in session."
Morgan's eyes flicked towards Meredick who nodded.
"The Ashen Throne nominates the Chair of Oxford as the first speaker, to provide the Parliament with a concise report of the Battle of Sheffield."
In the Sheldonian Assembly, Woodwose growled from his throne.
"Greetings, your Majesty." He spoke in a bitter tone. "According to our reports, our army numbered at 30,000…outnumbering the 10,000 of those defending Sheffield. But of that 30,000…only 9,000 came back."
Gasps erupted in the Seelie Parliament. Morgan remained silent, although Hermia could see a slight sneer on her face.
"As the rumors are flying about, many strange occurrences were reported at the battle. A strange vehicle fired incinerator cannonballs at our forces and was able to resist our arrows. There was a single knight that managed to hold down our forces by themselves. Not to mention Gawain herself was almost overpowered by another human knight.
"A human, nearly killing a Tam Lin? Has the Imperial Army grown this weak? Perhaps one of my Laoch would have done better." Cnoc Na Riabh spoke with a smug smirk. "I doubt Ferdíad would have struggled as much as Gawain did."
"Chair of Edinburgh, you have not been recognized by the Ashen Throne. Do not speak out of turn." Meredick spoke as Cnoc Na Riabh scoffed.
Woodwose cleared his throat.
"And…"
"Explain the fracture to me." Morgan spoke.
"Pardon, Your Majesty?"
"I sensed a fracture in reality itself during the battle." Morgan spoke.
Woodwose blinked. "Your Majesty? Is it about the sphere of darkness?"
Morgan's jaw clenched.
"Yes." She spoke in the same cold voice, but Hermia noticed something surprising.
A nervous bead of sweat going down Morgan's forehead.
"She's nervous…?" Mr. Gut noted in surprise. "Why would she be concerned about the Black Barrel? I know that elfish hispanic boy made some enhancements to it back in Olympus, but there shouldn't be much of a problem."
Woodwose also narrowed his eyes, having clearly spotted that nervous bead of sweat as well, but did not point it out.
"Your Majesty, you are saying that this sphere of darkness is capable of shattering reality itself?"
More whispers in the crowd.
"What kind of terrible weapons do these separatists have?"
"When did such a weapon be even made?"
"Do not be alarmed." Morgan spoke. "The weapon is destructive, but that is what it is. A destructive weapon. We still have many, many more weapons in our arsenal. They simply are not used to avoid unnecessary damage."
"...To Morgan's reputation." Mr. Gut whispered. Despite that assurance, Hermia noticed there was still something Morgan was worried about.
"Thank you for your report, Chair of Oxford. You may conclude your speech." Morgan spoke as Woodwose nodded.
"What are your concerns, house of lords?"
"I do have one." Aurora spoke.
"The Ashen Throne recognizes the Chair of Salisbury."
"Don't you think this will embolden other rebellious factions in Britain, Your Majesty?"
"It certainly will." Morgan spoke. "It seems we have been wrong in our assessment of their strength."
"I believe we attack them from a different angle - an economic one." Spriggan spoke.
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Go on, Chair of Norwich."
"First we cut Sheffield off from the wider economy of Britain. Suck out its resources. Get them desperate, and lure them out of their fortress."
"Hmm…" Morgan spoke, closing her eyes.
"I see. Others?"
"How does the Chair of Norwich propose we cut the Sheffield Separatists off from the rest of Britain?" Murian asked.
"Your Majesty. I require an image projection of Britain." Spriggan spoke before snapping his fingers as an Earth clan fairy walked up. At the bottom of the steps of the Ashen Throne, a circle of inscriptions lit up, the ash drifting in the winter hall converging above the circle to become a shape of Britain, with glowing blue dots and lines indicating the major cities and roads.
"Due to the troubles in Londinium and lack of roads connecting us to the west, many in Norwich have been forced to pass by the Warrington Belt in order to reach the western regions, in order to trade with Salisbury and Gloucester. Along with that, many of us need protection from Mors attcacks along the roads. All this leads to a slight inflow of resources into the Four fortress cities, especially Sheffield, who have a small share within the Gloucester-Norwich trade economy."
Spriggan rubbed his hands.
"Now, you may remember we just passed a verdict for the creation of the SGN roadway connecting Salisbury, Gloucester and Norwich. Since it passes right by the Imperial Capital itself, we shouldn't be facing troubles with the Round Table. Not only that, the road eliminates the need to go around to Sheffield."
"So, your proposal is that we cut off Sheffield with the SGN roadway?" Morgan spoke.
"Indeed, Sheffield has already violated the Code of Lugh with its secession and is henceforth ineligible for receiving Eorlgild from Camelot. Combined with being cut off from trade, Sheffield will begin its slow path to starvation and scarcity."
Morgan nodded slowly as Hermia scowled.
"He just wants to make sure he doesn't lose money to Sheffield." Hermia grumbled.
"Very well then, I shall henceforth make my verdict." Morgan spoke.
"In the light of the Chair of Norwich's proposition to cut off Sheffield's supply of resources and money, the SGN roadway will eliminate the need for Norfolk merchants to pass by Sheffield…"
Spriggan smiled.
"However, this does not mean that Leeds, Liverpool and Manchester need be cut off. Before the SGN roadway is opened, we must further discuss what to do about the rest of the Warrington Belt. But in the mean time, After the SGN roadway opens, all merchants in Britain are henceforth forbidden from buying or selling wares in Sheffield or engaging with merchants of Sheffield. Violation of this law will be a heavy fine as well as confiscation of property and goods by the local Earl."
Spriggan frowned slightly but nodded.
"Thank you for your just decision, your majesty." He spoke with a slight twitch on his lips that creeped Hermia out. Murian gave a non-commited shrug, Aurora gave a cheery smile, Woodwose gave a deadpan stare while Cnoc Na Riabh had a scowl.
"Now, we shall move on to the recent breakout in Gloucester, about my 'assassin' who escaped the Dome."
"The Ashen Throne nominates the Chair of Gloucester as the next speaker…" Meredick spoke.
With that, Hermia sat through the day, listening to the speeches of the Lords of the Seelie Parliament. Through it, she listened to a number of dissidents. The Separatists of Sheffield. The Round Table in Londinium. Cnoc Na Riabh's recent tensions with the Ashen Throne. The assassin who tried to kill Queen Morgan.
She couldn't even see why these people wanted to rise up against Queen Morgan. She was stern, but certainly not tyrannical. She was just in her verdicts, even continuously considering the flaws within a proposal and making her judgements trying to be inclusive of all factions.
And the Child of Prophecy…were they just a figurehead appointed by these dissidents to try and give themselves the legitimacy of fate and destiny itself?
Did she truly believe in the cause she was fighting for?
All these questions lingered in Hermia's mind as Morgan dispersed the Seelie Parliament.
The Winter Hall's walls once again fell silent as the fairies left. As soon as they did, Hermia noticed Morgan's demeanor shift.
Her shoulders, once held in a perfect posture, stooped slightly as she started to lean a bit back on her throne. Her eyes, once cold without any emotion, were now filled with a heavy exhaustion. Even her stone-cold frown had hints of melancholy in it.
"Gut."
Mr. Gut looked at Morgan. "Yes, your majesty?"
"Leave."
Mr. Gut sat up. "Well…" He looked at Hermia, who also went to get up.
"Not. Hermia."
Hermia stopped and looked at Morgan before sitting down. Mr. Gut cocked an eyebrow before shrugging and walking off, examining a vial of tree sap as he went.
For a moment, Hermia sat in awkward silence.
"Hermia."
Hermia looked at Morgan. "Yes, your majesty?"
"The first blow has been struck." She spoke quietly.
"..."
"Sheffield knew how much they needed that victory. With it, they've put a crack in my rule."
Morgan looked to the side. "To the north, Cnoc Na Riabh is probably giggling and rubbing her hands as she continues building up her army of Aos Sí led by her Laoch."
"To the South, Percival and the Round Table are most likely giving inspirational speeches to their men, saying Londinium will be like Sheffield as well. More humans will be going to join the Legionarii Uthyr."
"To the east, Spriggan is scrambling to pacify the merchant's guild, who're clamoring about the losses they made in funding my army."
"To the west, Murian is giggling as she instructs her gossip hounds to write unflattering things about the Imperial Army's defeat in Sheffield."
"..."
"It seems the separatists have individuals capable of matching my Tam Lin in combat. Look at the casualties we suffered…" Morgan spoke.
"...Before the sphere of darkness, the Separatists had taken much heavier losses. They were being pushed back as well."
She pursed her lips and shook her head.
"And now, the people of Britain think we've grown weak. That Camelot is only strong because of the duchies it rules over. My order…my 2000 year peace…is under threat."
Hermia frowned as Morgan let out an exhausted sigh.
"Hermia…I have an assignment for you and Tristram."
"Yes, your majesty?"
"Go to Norwich. Meet with Spriggan."
"And?"
"He will be receiving orders from me soon enough. All you need to do is show your face to him."
"Your majesty, but what am I to do in Norwich?"
A determined glint appeared in Morgan's cold eyes.
"Clear Camelot's image in the eyes of Britain."
20 kilometres off the coast of Cornwall, a lone ship floated in the ocean.
Within, was the organisation of Novum Chaldea, the last bastion of the Old Humanity. Led by Director Goredolf Musik, it had arrived in Britain in desire of the Rhongomyniad spears, whose terrible power they'd witnessed on Olympus.
They were missing one of their technical advisors, Leonardo Da Vinci, who had gone with their On-field master Ritsuka Fujimaru and her servant Mash Kyrielight to infiltrate Britain. On the ship remained Goredolf, the administrative advisor Sherlock Holmes and the second technical advisor…
"So, Detective…" The other technical advisor drawled out. "Its been time since our 'universal genius' and our red-haired menace lost contact with us."
"Patience. I trust they can take care of themselves. At the very best, they should still be alive." Holmes spoke with the ever-present calm look in his eyes.
The technical advisor threw up his hands. "Well, that isn't reassuring! What if they got eaten by some big, spooky monster, huh?"
"Da Vinci is sending us letters of the situation." Holmes pointed out.
The technical advisor sighed. "Look, you heard MOIRAI's words back on Olympus. Back me up here, Gordy!"
Goredolf frowned. "Stop the return of the Northern God. I am aware."
"See? We can't just send Ritsie alone!"
"And do I need to remind you that servants of Proper Human History can't set foot on this Britain?" Goredolf spoke drily.
"Oh, for…" The technical advisor threw up his arms and looked at Meuniére.
"Moonie, any thoughts?"
"Uh…no."
The advisor slouched before suddenly straightening up.
"Wait, but I'm not a servant…"
"No! You must stay back here to monitor our systems while Da Vinci is gone!" Goredolf spoke.
The advisor grinned. "But I can still do that~"
Holmes raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
"Look, this world's mumbo-jumbo is having a field day with our systems, right? So, let me go and study what hocus-pocus these fairies are doing. Then maybe I can figure something out?"
"You have another motive as well?"
"Look, I'll be helping by getting this ship up and running in a jiffy!"
"Are you sure you can do something about this interference?" Nemo asked.
"Of course! Just give me some time to look into it. I'll then reverse-engineer something to interfere with the magic itself." The advisor spoke with a grin."
Goredolf looked at Holmes. "Holmes?"
"It is…risky, but the benefits outweigh that. If you can establish communications with Ritsuka again, then it would be good."
"Great! So, I'll be leaving immediately!"
"Alone?" Meuniére asked.
The advisor wrapped an arm around him. "Oh, don't you worry about me, Moonie. It'll take a lot more than this spooky island to get me. You'll hear from me, soon enough!" He spoke with a wink.
"Very well, then go to Britain and investigate the interference as well as reestablish our communication with Ritsuka."
The advisor saluted. "Roger, commander Gordy!"
"..."
Artoria sat silently on the ramparts of the newly established Principality of Sheffield, watching the breaches being slowly filled back up again by earth fairy engineer. She had changed out of her sleeveless skirt, having replaced it with a white tunic with black pants and a brown cloak. A much simpler peasant's outfit reminiscent of her younger days. What she'd adopted as her 'village girl' clothing was merely for traveling.
Her hat was lying away to the side, as she stared at the breaches.
The night of the battle had been a haze for her, and she was still struggling to recall all the details.
All she could remember was pain, pain of being kicked repeatedly. And then…
She felt something else.
Artoria stretched out her hand, looking at it silently as her veins suddenly went black and light blue.
Whatever had happened, she'd gotten a lot more control over the curse now. It felt a lot more fluid rather than disgusting. But…
There was something wrong with her.
Artoria could feel something within her had changed. Her fairy patterns had something attached to them.
At some times, she could even hear something whisper in her mind…
Go…
Go to the island…
"Ah, voices in the head. Annoying things, aren't they?" A voice spoke as Artoria noticed Puck come up beside her.
"Oh, hi, Puck!" Artoria greeted him with a bright smile, only to be met with an unamused expression.
"You don't need to be chipper around me. I can see all that sadness and frustration behind that goofy smile of yours."
Artoria deflated.
Puck, who had so grandiosely introduced himself back in Salisbury, had also gotten silent and serious over the days. Although when he did joke, Artoria couldn't help but let out a short laugh.
"No, I haven't." Puck spoke with a mischievous smirk. "I didn't think the time for jokes was nigh just yet."
Artoria blinked. "You can read minds?"
"If I want to, I can hear what every person is thinking. But I usually don't." Puck spoke.
Artoria shrunk a little.
"Don't worry. I'm just keeping an eye on that voice you're hearing. I'm not peeking into your secrets." Puck spoke with a lazy grin.
She liked Puck, but if there was one thing that creeped her out about him, is that he could completely block out her fairy eyes. She could not see what he truly thought no matter how hard she tried.
"You have to get used to it, Artoria. Not everyone's going to lay their secrets bear out to you." Puck spoke.
Artoria frowned.
"...Puck."
"Yeah?"
Artoria let out an exhaustive sigh. "What have I done as the child of prophecy?"
"Escaped Woodwose's clutches in Tintagel and Salisbury, fought the Nameless Knight in Gwyn's city and fended off Morgan's forces in Sheffield."
Artoria let out a miserable snort. "Really? How much of it was done by myself?"
"..."
Puck gave no response, as the two of them sat looking upon rolling meadows near Sheffield.
"Thought so." Artoria spoke before putting a hand against her forehead. Images of the battle in the underground tunnels as well as the thing lurking inside her appeared in her mind.
Her dreams were filled with death and destruction she didn't even know she had seen. All in all, things were miserable for her.
Puck sighed. "You know what, let's cut to the chase. How long do you think you're going to keep up this charade?"
Artoria's eyes widened as Puck's eyes suddenly turned steely cold.
"W-What?"
"Those fairy eyes…they tell you everything you need to know why these fairies put you on a pedestal so much."
Artoria looked away.
"Britain needs me." She replied quietly.
Puck tilted his head. "You? Or does it need the Child of Prophecy?"
Artoria's lips quivered.
"All they want is a figurehead. A figurehead to dump their frustrations and desires on."
Puck then frowned at her. "And in a way…you want that figurehead too."
"H-Huh?"
"Don't lie to yourself Artoria. All these feelings of inadequacy, they're just excuses you're telling yourself to feel you are this island's hero and saviour."
"Deep inside…" Maybe it was Artoria's imagination, but she could detect Puck's voice deepen a little.
"...You're happy you haven't had to do so much heavy lifting."
Puck leaned forward.
"It's not laziness. This is more like…fear."
"Puck…" Artoria spoke in warning.
"You're afraid. Afraid of taking the burden of the expectations of fairies as their so-called 'white saviour' from Morgan's tyranny. You don't think you'd be able to handle it."
"..."
"For you, the 'Child of Prophecy' is a mask. A mask for you to hide your selfish desires so that you can fulfill that ideal of a 'selfless hero'. You don't accept that mask. You spout out self-pity, but deep inside you're relieved. Relieved you have others to take that burden for you…"
"Stop it!" Artoria snapped as Puck went silent.
Artoria's eyes suddenly widened as she looked down.
"S-Sorry…"
"Its fine. I got a little too harsh there." Puck spoke, his voice turning normal again. "But do you really deny it?"
Artoria took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
"...No."
"Y-You're right." Artoria spoke.
"Ever since I summoned Kay and met everyone, I've felt so much relief. Everything that's happened in the past few weeks, I don't think I could have done all of this by myself."
"But…"
"I feel so…ashamed."
"..."
"I'm the child of prophecy, aren't I? I'm supposed to be the one to free the fairies from Morgan. But yet, I'm relying on others to do my work. No…I'm enjoying seeing others do my work for me."
Artoria's eyes looked away in shame.
"What kind of hero exploits their own to their ends?"
"You're slipping back into that mask again." Puck spoke. "Stop that."
Artoria stiffened.
"But besides that, you're a fairy. We can pretend to be magical, civilised folk all we want. But we're all fundamentally selfish and short-sighted. We can change, but we don't have the far-sightedness for that."
Puck looked off to the side. "You can strive to be a selfless hero, but you can't be one. Even those who are the most persistent in reaching that ideal become nothing more than obsessed madmen, deluding themselves into one single path even if it runs their lives to the ground."
His eyes flicked back to Artoria.
"The game of a liar is a dangerous thing. Keep wearing a mask, and it eventually becomes your face. Your real face, becomes nothing but a distant memory floating in the endless expanse of time and space."
"So dial back on this charade you've got going. Be yourself to more people instead of just Kay and Helga."
Artoria gulped.
"O-Okay." She spoke.
She thought of Puck's words, of trying to let go a little of her mask. But then the memories of her childhood came rushing to her.
If she tore away her mask, she would be thrown away like garbage. That's what the fairies would…
"I never said to stop with the charade." Puck spoke as Artoria looked at him.
"But you…"
"Dial back does not mean stopping. Your window of opportunity closed the moment Morgan's forces attacked this fortress. Sorry to say this, but now there's no escape for you out of this, Artoria." Puck spoke somberly.
"You won't get the liberty to put down the mask of the 'child of prophecy' until Britain incinerates itself and you only walk on its ashes."
A chill went down Artoria's spine.
"Whether you run from it, whether you fight it, it won't matter. The prophecy won't leave you until it is complete. So I would recommend you balance out both your lives and not simply abandon the image you've put up of yourself."
"...I see." Artoria spoke before hearing a sound and noticing Svin calling out to her.
"I need to go." Artoria spoke quietly as she got up, before Puck grabbed her arm as the two locked eyes for the last time.
"Don't think this is the end of it. In the coming future, you will find yourself being torn apart in a tug of war between Hope and Desire. Desire will corrupt your mind, and Hope will poison your soul. You have to make sure neither gains a strong hold over your choices and your destiny." Puck spoke, before giving a grin.
"But don't sweat it. You won't be alone in this endeavor. For now, I suggest you prepare for your confrontation with the calamity of Norwich." He spoke as he let go of Artoria and vanished into thin air.
Artoria blinked before turning around and walking off towards Svin. The beast greeted her with a nod.
Despite its terrifying appearance, Svin had been nothing short of a gentle creature. Hard to think she was the same beast that had stalked the forests near Gloucester for almost 3000 years.
In front of Svin, Artoria couldn't help but crack a smile.
"So, Svin. How's your day been?" Artoria asked, now accepting the fact that Svin can understand her.
Svin gave a satisfied grunt as Artoria curiously took a glance at her through her fairy eyes.
"Spawn of Tlaltecuhtli."
Artoria shook her head.
"Is she the one? Will she be the one to find Tlālocān?"
Tila…what? Artoria thought, completely confused by the foreign words.
She decided to stop there. Svin's inner thoughts were too confusing for her. For the moment, she thought of Puck's words.
"Sorry to say this, but now there's no escape for you out of this, Artoria."
Artoria's breathing turned heavy.
As scary as it sounded, Artoria could not deny it. Puck was right. Ever since the battle of Sheffield, Artoria had been gripped by a growing fear. A growing fear that she could no longer live in a state of relief.
She had fired the first shot against Morgan and there was no turning back.
"Lady Artoria." A voice spoke as Artoria noticed a human servant come up.
"Your presence is requested at Lord Boggart's throne room."
Artoria let out a soft breath, before nodding somberly and following the servant to the throne room.
Helga was the first person she saw. The mage gave a warm smile and a friendly wave as she noticed Artoria approach. Kay stood beside her, giving Artoria a lazy glance before shooting a little fireball at her feet.
"Hey! What was that for?" Artoria snapped as Kay snorted.
"Sorry, master. I had a feeling you were getting cold outside so I wanted to warm you up a little bit."
Artoria glared at him before shaking her head and putting up a smile.
Same old Kay. She thought. Boggart sat on his throne, nodding to Artoria.
"Now that we've all settled from the celebrations, we must now look towards the future. Sir Kay, what say you?"
"We've pushed back Morgan's forces, but there is a slight problem." Kay spoke.
"The revocation of the Eorlgild." Boggart spoke. "It was expected. Our actions violated the Code of Lugh, and hence Camelot has no reason to pay me Eorlgild."
"They've also tried to cut off trade with Sheffield, from what the Seelie Parliamentary session showed." Kay spoke.
"Da Vinci, estimates?" Boggart asked.
"We're well supplied. But I do advise that we think of an alternate source to get our money and resources from."
"So, can't we like raid other places controlled by Morgan?" Artoria asked.
"Not a good plan. We would be attacking dukelands then, giving Morgan ample opportunity to attack to bring her lords and their armies with her. We should not do such a thing until we have sufficient support from allies." Boggart spoke.
"Oh…right." Artoria spoke. "I thought we were like renegades now."
"Master, we are not simple bandits. Raiding resources is something you do if you know there's no serious consequences." Kay spoke. "But of course, I don't trust you to know that."
"I'm the team leader, Kay! I know all this stuff!"
"Look at my wise master, using the most brilliant of logic."
"Please, you can engage in your squabbling later, Lady Artoria." Boggart spoke. "Besides, I do believe your strategic mindset is about the same size as your height."
Artoria looked at Boggart.
Did he just… Artoria's brain screeched to a halt as Muramasa let out a loud laugh beside her.
"Got you there, squirt." Muramasa spoke as Helga giggled.
"Okay, okay. Let's cut with the bullying, everybody. Let's get back to our topic."
"So, subterfuge will be our game." Da Vinci spoke. "We will have to secretly build up separatist sentiments against Morgan across Britain's cities before we eventually have to go to war against her."
Kay nodded. "And I propose Norwich to be our first area."
Boggart nodded. "A sound plan. I know the Guild County of Norwich has always despised Morgan's authoritarian policies on their activities, especially her using their money and wealth for construction and urban development in Camelot. If we can gain their support, we wouldn't require Eorlgild."
"Besides, the time of the calamity is approaching." Habetrot spoke.
Artoria sat in silence. She'd only heard of the calamities in stories, great disasters that caused death and destruction whenever they came. She'd met Svin, a product of that calamity. She had long since known that one day, she would see a calamity in her own eyes.
But as the child of the prophecy, Artoria was well aware that she would have to fight it sooner or later.
"Yes, it is so." Boggart spoke. "The calamity's time is coming. My former citizens are already preparing for evacuation. Norwich will be crawling with Morgan's troops in preparation. It will make approaching the city difficult."
"But this is a golden opportunity." Da Vinci spoke. "If Artoria beats the calamity, then it will give her a significant boost in reputation. It'll give us more leverage in attracting supporters if Artoria is able to take out a calamity."
"Woah, woah, Da Vinci. Slow down. Let's not get too far up into the clouds. Approaching the guilds is fine. Taking the calamity is something very, very risky for master." Kay spoke.
"Morgan's forces can handle calamities, no?"
Boggart nodded. "Ever since she ascended the throne, Morgan has done an impressive job containing calamities, perhaps even more efficient than Aesc and her companions. What you're suggesting is similar to what Aesc would do, but that would be obsolete considering how quickly Morgan can respond to calamities."
Artoria remained silent.
"See? There's other ways. First let her get stronger, then let her take on the calamity."
"No." Artoria spoke, looking at Boggart.
"Master…"
"Kay." Artoria spoke softly as Kay fell silent, recognizing the seriousness in her voice.
"Lord Boggart, what are the casualties of the calamities?"
"Well, they are very high, even with Morgan's interventions."
"And how are the people being evacuated?"
Boggart fell silent before his eyes narrowed. "...They are being evacuated from the habor areas, that's all for Morgan's forces."
Artoria nodded. "And…why?"
"So that they don't interfere with the operations."
"..."
Artoria thought back to Puck calling her out on her self-satisfaction.
She felt ashamed at her own selfishness. She didn't like fairies, but she didn't want to be just like them.
Artoria looked at Boggart.
"We'll be heading to Norwich. Not just to contact the guild counts, but to stop the calamity as well."
A/N: Yo, it's been a while. So, I decided to post KoA Chapters again because my PJO fanfic is taking longer than expected (Good ole' Writer's block). So, I'll be updating both fanfics instead of focussing on just the PJO fanfic. I won't talk much in the A/N, because the day's been tiring for me. Just want to mention the technical advisor aside from Da Vinci is not an FGO character. They come from my planned LB5 rewrite (Yes, I'm planning a rewrite of LB5 as well) which will be a crossover.
On to more personal things, I recently got into the Dune franchise. And I fucking love it. It is a work that I can tell you will heavily influence my stories in the future (Because again, its critique of millenialism is just too good). So yeah, expect Dune within my planned fanfics for the future. Aside from that, I've gotten addicted to Hearts of Iron, so yay.
Hope you guys enjoyed and constructive criticism is appreciated!
Foot Notes:
Code of Lugh: The Code of Lugh is a charter of ducal rights drafted by Morgan right after the Winter War to cement her control over the fairy clans. The Code of Lugh was geared towards ensuring any who tried to defy the administrative hierarchy was cut off and left without their position.
Eorlgild: Eorlgild is a sum of morpounds paid by Camelot to the earls of a duchy for maintainance of their city. It is a priviledge granted by signing the Code of Lugh and henceforth is stripped away in case of violation.
Response to Reviews:
Guest: Good catch of detail. Hold on to that information for now.
Fuuko: Yeah, I wanted a little bit of Beryl fighting in his human (Or half-human) self before I fully go into the werewolf stuff. And again, timeline changed. I'll be adhering to the canon timeline at some moments, but mostly it'll be an original story.
King0fp0wers: I'll see what to do about Muramasa. As for Beryl, that's mostly just my dislike of Nasu's portrayal of witchcraft in Fate. I will have him use black magic, but I still feel black magic is portrayed in a very generic and superificial manner to me. Plus, its also my desire to have all crypters use magecraft in accordance to the mystical traditions of the cultures they come from. So, for Beryl, I wanted to heavily draw upon Celtic belief and symbolism. The rune thing's difference I've explained in this chapter so that I don't turn Beryl into a British rune user. For the gun thing...eh, I'll see if I can put that in.
Guest (2) : Yeah. Consider me giving Melusine a bad night being caused by my inner Indian bias showing up when some youtube comment said she could take on Hindu gods because she was the incarnation of Albion. Melusine's left a pretty bad image in my mind after that comment (But I will admit, she is the coolest looking and with an interesting story of her own).
Guest (3): Absolutely. I really want to explore Beryl's reality marble in the Darlington chapters.
Seeking the Miraculous Dream: Yep, because I think Camelot's Image feels like a copout. Kay's other noble phantasm that I'm thinking off will be related to his killing of Cath Palug.
Guest (4): True. Boggart will get more chances in the future.
Darth Kyuubi Kurama: Thank you.
Love-to-Peace: No. As much as I know how much FGO fans would love to see Beryl die a crueler death, I wish to make his character more intricate and complex than he is in canon. I am trying out a theme for characters outside of Faerie Britain, so I'll see how it goes.
Gankutsou117: Oh, I'm so sorry. I just knew I was screwed the moment I saw you were hoping for a sooner update. Here's another chapter.
Maetirta: I was more so going for an anti thesis of Sith in this case.