Camelot… The next day…
It was an hour past the break of dawn. The crystal ceiling above the throne room slowly shone brighter and brighter as the sun rose up. The cool morning breeze rushed through the windows that dotted the room. Though it did little to ease anyone who was present.
"The court has decided to lift the banishment of Sir Lancelot du Lac as well as reinstating his former titles and station." The Lion King declared as she raised Rhongomyniad before the Round Table.
"Aye, aye." The Round Table rose from their seats to raise their own weapons in turn.
It was merely a formality, this thing that they are doing right now. And Lancelot knows it as he knelt down before his peers and King. When he was stripped of his position as second in command, Lancelot also lost his knighthood and the other titles that came with it. From the highest of ranks, he became lower than even the sentinels created by that witch, Le Fay, who was surprisingly hidden this whole time. A detail that was only uncovered and told to him after Agravain spotted her being served by said sentinels at the kitchen.
Honestly, he should be burning with hatred for his King for this disgrace. Archer too. Because Lancelot heard from Agravain and Morgan that he was to be replaced by the red-clad servant. But all of that was forgotten once Archer consoled the Knight and his anger by saying that no one - the bowman especially - was truly placed in his position following his humiliating demotion. Why that is important showed in one particular reason: it meant that Lancelot would one day be restored to his former rank. All he had to do was wait and be called once more to serve.
And now that day has arrived.
"I humbly accept this decision." Lancelot muttered into the pommel of his sword. He was currently kneeling down with his head so low that his nose was nearly touching Arondight. He dare not raise his head. Not until he was ordered to by his King.
"Arise, Sir Lancelot." The Lion King's voice rang melodically through his ears. And as the Knight stood up, he was met with a strange sight. The King's eyes looked as if she was staring far away. It was akin to a man who was physically there, though not quite fully. It was difficult to explain for Lancelot.
"Your previous transgressions are now forgiven." The Lion King said with a nearly imperceptible tone of sullenness. "As my second-in-command, you are to man the fortifications of the City as well as prepare the Knights for the incoming armed host of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. You are to use the first twenty thousand sentinels for the protection of the walls and the rest will go to whatever you may wish. Do not disappoint me again."
"I understand, my Liege." Lancelot said with no lack of apprehension. Archer was right. It's like he never left his station at all! But he must not get cocky. This is his one and only chance to make things right. He will not let his King down. Not anymore.
"Hm." The King hummed as she summoned the Round Table. "Take your seats. We have much to discuss."
And so, they all sat. It was at this moment that Lancelot realised that they were not complete. Too overcome by his relief that he did not notice that Morgan and Archer were not present. He does not know where they are. Though their lack of appearance doesn't seem to be an issue if he was considering the words being shared between his peers. Not a single word was spoken concerning the two of them. Though that might not last for long.
"Where is the enemy right now?" Tristan asked as the holographic-esque map appeared before them at the centre of the table.
"We do not know." Agravain answered with a frown. "I plan to conduct an expedition outside the walls to reassess the enemy and gain newfound information to combat our lack of knowledge."
"A smart move." Gawain said as he creased his brow in contemplation. "It would save us the trouble of being surprised by any unexpected actions against us. But who will go with you?"
"I'll go." Mordred raised her hand. "I've been aching to get out and fight for a while, anyways. A little bit of a walk can help too."
"If you insist." Agravain nodded as he took note of Mordred's words. "But I scarcely think that there would be armed conflict in our journey."
"Take a company of 250 sentinels with you just in case." Lancelot spoke up for the first time. "They shall be suitable for your needs outside the City."
"...of course, Sir Lancelot." Agravain said with a strange tone and an even stranger face. It's clear that the Black Knight has some reservations for Lancelot's reinstatement, but is wise enough to know that he must never question his King's decisions. The Knight of the Lake just left it at that. It's not like Agravain sought to be insubordinate or anything. He just thinks that there might be better options for the role. Such as his own self.
"I'll take command of half the company then." Mordred suggested with an ordering-like tone. "We should move on to discuss the defence of the city. How will we divide up the responsibility?"
"Might I suggest a four quadrant plan?" Tristan offered as he raised a hand towards the King. "May I be able to control the map, my liege."
"...You have the reins, Sir Tristan." The Lion King uttered dourly. Lancelot can see that she was clearly out of it. She was in another place entirely. He knew that she had some sort of fight against Archer, but was it really because of that? Could it be that there was something far deeper at play for his King to act like this?
"If all of you would please observe the map." Tristan calmly controlled the map with his prana. If he noticed anything odd with the Lion King, he would dare not speak of it. "You would see that the city already has ample defensive positions. There are the Six walled Districts that surround the main castle like a hexagon. There is the Inner Hexagon that leads to the higher levels of the City. And finally there is the Highest Level which leads to the Castle Proper. I propose that we man the junctions within these quadrants."
"Not only will we negate any probable advantages that the enemy may have in numbers by narrowing their avenue of attack, but we can free up some of the 20 thousand sentinels dedicated to reinforce a second army for any manoeuvre against the enemy." Gawain said aloud with a genuine appreciation for the idea.
"But like I said: how will we split it up?" Mordred asked as she pointed at the map. "If we go by Tristan's idea, we would still need to divide the Six districts. It's too big for one of us to command alone. Not to mention the fact that we don't exactly know what kind of weapons Jerusalem has."
"You and Gawain will take 4 of the 6 districts." Lancelot ordered as a means to resolve the issue. "Mordred, your command is in the East. Gawain will man the West. Both of you will split the south evenly while I will take the remaining two in the North of the city. Tristan will defend the higher levels while Agravain will be in charge of the Highest level before the castle Proper."
"And that leaves us Sir Archer, who has no command, and Morgan le Fay, who will not take commands at all." Tristan said with pursed lips. "What responsibility will those two have?"
"Leave that to me." The Lion King rumbled. At the mention of those two, it appears that she finally snapped out of her reverie and realised that decision making was being done right before her without her having a single part in it. Not that it matters much. She will take control from now on.
"I will tell Morgan to create sentinel variants to suit our needs. Once she is done, Jerusalem will not stand a chance against our might. But remember, King Baldwin and those who may follow are not the main priority. The Holy Selection must begin soon. Or we will be damned by the Beast if not."
Lancelot couldn't even blink before he felt the temperature go down a hundred degrees. An awkward tension filled the room as the memories of yesterday's conversation flooded their minds. Memories that Lancelot did not have as he was banished from the Castle. Whatever happened to cause this, Lancelot thought, it most definitely has something to do with Archer.
A feeling in Lancelot's gut was telling him he'd rather not find out.
Meanwhile… within the halls of the Castle…
Archer walked towards the Royal throne room. He felt anxious as he went in. This very place where his execution almost occurred now needed him and his skills. He did not spend the night idly sitting around the outer walls. He spent his time wandering the wilderness and finding cities of which he can use to gather information.
Word that spread from the surrounding settlements, with the port city of Tyre as a good example, contained news that the armies of Jerusalem began their march yesterday and are expected to coalesce around the Golan Heights. The numbers that Jerusalem mustered are estimated to be less than 2000. Though, from Archer's point of view, it seems that this count is only to grow once the northern cities like Acre begin sending their numbers.
Another issue is the distressing lack of news coming from Damascus. Merchants are sharing that Saladin closed the city gates last night and haven't opened them since. No one knows why and no one knows how long till the city opens once more. This is concerning for one reason alone: Saladin might be moving against them.
Though, considering the fact that half of his empire is basically all of Egypt, it wouldn't be much of a problem if he attacked Camelot. Saladin's powerbase
Is there after all. He wouldn't even have enough time to get the numbers and firepower needed to get into the City itself. And it's not like Saladin will seek Jerusalem's help. They would rather kill each other than go to the other kingdom's aid.
Speaking of killing…
"You can come out now." Archer declared with an annoyed voice. He was at the main hall that leads to the throne room. The same one where Gawain spoke to him a few days ago. His voice echoed the halls and the pillars that keep the roof in place. Not a single sound was heard after the echoes dissipated.
Until a dark chuckle rang in the bowman's ears.
"My, my, I didn't think that you could sense me. Even though I masked my presence so well, you still managed to find me." The voice said as a dark cloud to Archer's right coalesced into a figure of a woman. She was leaning on one of the pillars that lined up the way to the throne room.
"We're all servants, Morgan. And from what I can tell, you're not an Assassin. Besides, I had a gut feeling." Archer blandly said as he kept on walking. He dare not look at her direction lest he succumb to his desire to strangle her.
"How rude." Morgan indignantly said as she burned Archer's back with a searing glare. "You are lucky to be alive as is. What happened to that fear you showed for me yesterday? Do you really want to die that badly?"
"You have nothing on me." Archer said as he stopped. He still dared not turn around. "Besides, I neither fear you nor care for my life to begin with. Mordred's intervention was just bad luck on your part."
"So it seems." Morgan conceded as her heels clicked and clacked on the marble floors. She was walking towards him. But why? Why bother with this pointless conversation?
"What do you-" Archer turned around only to be pulled by his red shroud. His knees buckled a bit, forcing him to go low enough to reach Morgan's height. His abrupt fall was stopped by a hand cupping his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise as he Morgan's own. As he looked down on the scheming with, only one thought rang in his mind.
'Why the hell is she kissing me?'
It was true. Morgan indeed initiated it. But it lacked both the passion and the desire expected from such a romantic display. Instead, all Archer got were eyes filled with skulduggery, mischief, and a look as if everything fell into how she planned it. The alarm bells in Archer's head finally rang when he felt her lips morph into a small smirk. It was here that the hand that cupped his cheek snaked up to his temple and forced a surge of mana into his brain.
In an instant, memories that he had sought to bury found themselves at the forefront of his mind. Archer now knew what Morgan was trying to do: she was trying to get into his head! But why? Why is she doing this? Whatever the reason was, he will not let this slide. It took all of his willpower to force his fist up to push her off him. Once a sizable distance was made, Archer did not hesitate to close the distance and pinned Morgan onto one of the pillars. Just to be safe, he set Kanshou on Morgan's gut, and Bakuya into her neck.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Archer growled in pain. The spell that penetrated his mind gave him a lot of suffering as it flitted through his memories.
"Calm down, I did not seek to kill you." Morgan chuckled without so much a blink of concern for her impending doom. "Like I said, I just wanted to know you more."
"You got a twisted way of going about it." Archer pressed his weapons harder until she got nicked. "Why do you care so much about me? I'm nothing to you."
"And that is the problem." Morgan leaned her head towards the bowman's face. She definitely caught him off guard as he retracted Bakuya just enough to spare her from any more damage.
"Everyone who is present in this City is cut from the very same cloth that made me immortal." Morgan explained as she summoned a plethora of moving images that encircled the two of them. "My sister's very own 'legend', if you will. I know all of her knights and raised one of them myself. I was at the beginning and at the end when she was carried to Avalon."
"But you? I have never heard of you." Morgan paused as she tilted her head to the side. "Is it wrong of me to satiate my curiosity?"
Archer took half a second to realise that the images were about Arturia's own life. From when she was still a young girl to her death at the hill of Camlann, all were displayed by the varying images created by Morgan le Fay. They then vanished to show something that made his blood boil: the final years of his life.
"To think that you were from the future." Morgan weakly said as the pressure of the blades doubled. "You were a stubborn one, that's for sure. My spell could only tell me the most recent memories you had. So, I couldn't see your younger years. A shame, the last 5 that you've lived were very interesting indeed. I wonder what your youth was like."
"Is this funny to you?!" Archer asked as he barely held back his murderous intent. "Is toying with me and probing my mind normal for a freak like you? What's it all for? Why are you doing this?"
"I think the more pressing question is: how did you get this?" Morgan changed the subject and summoned a golden light with her right hand. It twisted and turned until a recognisable shape took form. It was… a sheath… a familiar looking sheath.
"This is why I did what I did." Morgan declared as she finally decided that Archer had enough and flung him across the other side of the hall with a strong gust of wind.
"I wanted to know how you are connected to my sister. And it seems that Avalon is that connection."
"A terrible copy, sure. I can never seem to take it from Arturia when it was still a physical sheath, what more can I do with you holding onto it with your own soul? But it counts." Morgan simply said as she held her wounds. She then levitated it before herself and held it up with one hand whilst hovering the other hand on top of it.
"What are you doing?" Archer asked anxiously. The hairs on the back of his neck are telling him that something far worse than everything that's happened up till now is about to happen.
"Did you know that when Merlin gave this sheathe to Arturia, she did not see its value for what it truly is? Rather, she preferred Excalibur above all else. It was at this moment where her undoing truly began." Morgan then made it spin slowly to make analysing it easier.
"Avalon has a mind of its own. It clung to Arturia in more ways than one. Keeping her youthful. Undying. No matter where it is, it will still be connected to Arturia. I had taken it from her before the battle of Camlann and even then she did not die. No. She could not. Not while Avalon still lives." Morgan then stared at Archer with a conniving smile that spelled nothing good for Bowman.
"If Avalon could bind itself to the point of granting Arturia near immortality, what does that say of you?" Morgan posited with a matter of factly tone. "Here, in my hands, is a conduit that will lead me to - more or less - your very soul. Everything that you have become will now be laid bare before my very own eyes. And the best part is: you cannot stop me."
As Archer heard that, his feet were bound to the ground by crystalline boot-like structures that stopped any idea of quick movement before it could come to fruition. He could only watch in speechless fear as to what she would see through that sheathe.
"Now I will see… the answer to who you truly are…" Morgan then reached into the golden sheathe. Her hands glowed that same purple hue that Archer saw penetrate through his psyche. The world slowed down as Morgan's finger touched the engravings on Avalon. Suddenly…
Zap!
Archer just watched in surprise as Morgan dropped to the floor. The copy of Avalon shattered into a thousand fragments of light before it dissipated into nothingness. Archer used this moment to free himself or his restraints and simply waited for Morgan to regain herself. The morning sun hit the halls just right to give the crystal ceiling that bright glow. Allowing Archer to see the face behind the veil. And what he is seeing right now… is a woman who had seen far too much for his liking.
"You love her…" Morgan whispered with wide glossy eyes. As if she was somewhere else mentally. "It all makes sense now…"
"What did you see?" Archer warily knelt before the witch. He was afraid of how much she now knew about his past. But that fear turned to confusion once Morgan shook her head in denial.
"Everything." Morgan stood up and patted herself down for any dust. "Avalon protected itself by giving me what I wanted. It was almost too much for me to bear. I almost regretted it. Almost."
"And now that you got what you came for, what will you do now? I hope this entire mess was worth it for you." Archer said with ill-concealed disdain for the Witch Queen. And his hate grew even more when a haughty smirk found itself upon her lips.
"Definitely so." Morgan answered as she started to walk towards the throne room without so much as acknowledging the bowman's anger. "I feel like I've turned a new leaf. My schemes are still at play and I will not hesitate to ruin my sister while I'm around. But, after what I've seen…"
Morgan then turned around to face Archer, who had stopped in his tracks. A cryptic look was what he saw through that veil. Suddenly, a devilish smile came upon her. Causing Archer to shiver at the sight. He's seen that look before from a certain red clad thigh high wearing girl who only had mischief to offer him wherever he went. A piece of him found it appropriate to compare those two to each other.
"It's more fun for me to ruin two lives instead of just one, don't you think?"
And with that, she ended the conversation. She then made her way towards the throne room. Archer, having his world turned upside down and getting stumped by the enigma that was Morgan le Fay, just sighed and just walked to the throne room. Albeit considerably far away from the witch.
The question as to what all that was for will forever be left unanswered, Archer thinks. He knows that there was a reason: that Morgan seeks to ruin him in some manner of form. But how? Mordred's already ensured that he will no longer have to worry about a crystal spike behind his back, so what did Morgan have in mind? Better yet, what did she see? And what will she do with the knowledge of his past? Is it blackmail? No, there's no point. What would she need from him that already isn't attainable by her own machinations? Argh, damned Pendragons. Always finding new ways to give him damn headaches.
"By the way," Morgan called to him from the front of the hall. "Did you really have your first time in a threesomen with my sister and your friend? I must say, I didn't think you would have what it takes to end up in that situation. Colour me impressed."
'Oh for fuck's sake, why did she have to bring that up.'
The Royal Throne Room… at the same time…
Arturia's cursing Archer's name right about now.
He had finally done it. He planned enough seeds of doubts into the hearts of her when it came to her plan. No one dared to speak up. Not while the bowman is absent to give them courage. But she can feel it in the air.
The Holy Selection was supposed to bring out the best of humanity. Those of sound hearts and minds were to be saved by granting them eternal life away from the danger that was sure to come in the form of the Human King. How the hell is that wrong?
'We repeat ourselves… I only wanted what's best for you… you might as well just end my life…"
No. Stop it.
'Well? Where is your justice now?'
Enough!
'-Let it be known that you are capable of cruelty the likes that no man has-"
CRACK!
"My King!" Lancelot's voice broke through Arturia's trance. In her effort to banish the voice of that bowman, her right hand crushed the armrest of her seat. A thousand shards scattered about as the armrest was rendered to oblivion. No one was hurt, obviously. But, it gave Arturia enough of a shock to bring her back to the meeting at hand.
She looked around to see that her knights looked anxious with a little hint of alarm. She cursed internally at the thought that she allowed them a glimpse of what it looked like to see her crack. Like a glass mirror withstanding a hit by a steel ball. Whole, yet on the verge of breaking. She was supposed to be the greatest of them all. The beacon of salvation that all men would seek for. She was supposed to be a Goddess. Perfect in all she does. Nothing but perfection was needed to save humanity, after all. But no. She was nothing like that.
She was just human.
And Arturia only realised this after all that Archer's done. Damn that man to the 9 hells. But the problem remains: should she spare the wicked? Archer clearly thinks so, despite the fact that he clearly agrees with her own ideals. He even offered the knife of which she should kill him with just to make the point that what she's doing is nothing but cruelty.
'My goodness, Arturia. You have lost yourself in him.'
A twinge of annoyance coursed through her mind at the sound of Morgan's voice in her head. But then again, she was right. She can no longer be blind to the truth.
"You win…" Arturia whispered to herself.
"Your Majesty?" Lancelot asked confusedly for everyone in the room. They too heard it, yet were left clueless to the inner war raging inside.
"Do not hesitate to bring everyone into the Holy Selection." Arturia declared without daring to display her defeated tone. "All shall be welcomed into this City's walls."
And just like that, the tension that was once thick enough to cut dissipated like the morning dew. The faces of the Knights of the Round Table were a mix of relief, awe, and hidden glee. Arturia felt like she made a mistake, but Lancelot taking over the meeting and redirecting it to other matters distracted the Knights just enough so that Arturia could analyse them deeper. Tristan and Gawain had a pleasant smile upon their faces. Agravain was stone faced though clearly questioning the change. Mordred chuckled under her clasped hands that were resting on the table. She was the only one to notice the gaze of her King and immediately diverted her attention towards Lancelot's words.
Was changing her mind a good idea if a majority of her Knights reacted positively to letting the wicked criminals inside her city? Frankly, Arturia can't seem to find the right answer to that. On one hand her eternal salvation will be tainted by the evils of man and on the other, her subjects are ok with it. Was giving them a chance really worth it?
CLICK. SWING.
Arturia was the first to see the two individuals entering the throne room. Morgan and Archer were walking side by side… bickering. She can't quite hear what they were talking about, but from the pleasant smile her sister's donning and the annoyed expression on the bowman's face she can tell that it was probably something not worth her attention. The Round Table then stopped to address the new entrees with Lancelot being the one to speak up.
"Morgan le Fay. Sir Archer. Just at the right time, we've been expecting you two. Please take your seats." Lancelot said as he ushered them to the empty chairs at Mordred's left and right.
Arturia narrowed her eyes when Archer sat and stared directly at her. Ill feelings radiating from her as the bowman acknowledged her with a nonchalant look. Though that nonchalance turned back to irritation after the bowman realised that Morgan switched seats with the Red Knight. Thereby making him sit beside her.
"Where have you been this entire time?" Lancelot asked the two, who looked at him with differing expressions. One with crossed arms and another more focused on her nails than the Knight of the Lake.
"I left the city to do recon." Archer replied. But before he could elaborate, he motioned to request access to the map. But Tristan volunteered to change it to view the surrounding areas of the Holy City 10 kilometres out. Archer did not need to say anything but a nod of thanks towards the Knight before continuing.
"I only went as far as my Iegs could possibly go while being able to return to the city by daybreak. I went to Tyre and found out that the King of Jerusalem already left the Holy City with 2000 men." Archer said while Tristan navigated the map to show the small port city bordering the Mediterranean
"Obviously that's not all they've got." Mordred voiced out with a scoff. "Just 2000? Who do they think we are?"
"Where are the other portions of the army located?" Gawain asked with furrowed brows filled with concern. "Considering that the Leper King has allies in the states of Tripoli and Antioch, they might have decided that moving separately was the faster option."
"I do not know." Archer said with dismay before rebounding with a resolute look. "But I do know where they are going to be: The Golan Heights."
"A cunning move." Agravain voiced out as Tristan moved the map towards the subject matter. "It is close to Acre and Lake Tiberias, making it a viable supply base. High enough to overlook the rest of the lowlands that lead to our location. And easily navigable due to local information."
"But it does bring up an interesting question." Lancelot rubbed his chin. "How many are we truly up against? And would they be enough of a threat to be considered such?"
"I will ensure that that shall not be the case." Morgan confidently answered with a cold smile. "A thousand of those pests won't even make a dent on my creations."
"How long will it take for you to create new variants to the sentinel design?" The Lion King spoke for the first time since Archer and her sister came in. Her voice level and betraying nothing.
"Well that depends." Morgan assumed a thinking pose. "The thirty thousand I've been able to muster took me months. The whole process of making new models will take longer than expected due to mama shortages."
"Mana shortages?" The Lion King repeated with mild confusion. "You've never had this problem before. Why do you have such a thing now?"
"You have an army that can rival the combined power of the greatest empires of this time, dear sister. I have been greedily taking whatever reservoir that was built up underneath the city. No matter how big this one we've commandeered, the Ley Line can only take so much before being drained to a dangerous degree. If you wanted me to have no problems at all, then you should have built this city at Mount Hermon like I told you." Morgan said as she flicked a finger to change the map to show the ley line system underneath the City.
"If we did." Arturia sighed in annoyance after explaining this for more times than she could count. "Then we would be at a disadvantage because we would be skewered between two Kingdoms whose power we have little to no information on. "
"Then allow me another option." Morgan hid a smile. Instincts were telling the Lion King that she was set up by the Witch. She was planning this conversation from the start.
"What do you want?" The Lion King lowered her head. Wariness overcomes her.
"Let me have an assistant who will aid me in the construction of the sentinels." Morgan said with a voice that betrayed nothing but sincerity. "One is enough."
That… doesn't sound bad at all. The Lion King thought deeper. Mordred's clearly capable of serving under the witch considering their mother-son bond. Mordred will still be tasked with being Agravain's second at the recon mission, but other than that, the Knight of Treachery's got nothing else stopping her from assuming the position.
"Alright then." The Lion King nodded as she raised a hand towards her (not quite) son. "Mordred shall-"
"Excellent!" Morgan cut her sister off. She then pulled Archer into an arm hug and with jubilation said, "Archer will suit my needs."
…
….
Snap.
"You what?" Mordred was the first to react as she whipped her head towards her (probably insane) mother. "You literally wanted to end his life yesterday, and now you want him as your assistant?"
"That's what caused the destruction in the Northeast district?" Gawain questioned aloud. But his words fell on deaf ears. Because all were distracted by the fact that the Lion King was brushing off the dust that came from the now destroyed left armrest. She did not look happy.
"Why him?" Arturia asked with irritation. Morgan was clearly up to no good. And why is Archer not saying anything against the idea? He should be rejecting her sister's machinations outright.
"Why not him?" Morgan innocently asked as she hugged the bowman so tight to the point that he couldn't escape. "He's reliable, witty, and interesting. Not exactly the traits you see with your lousy knights. Mordred's the exception, as always."
"I believe my King wishes to express the fact that Sir Archer has another task in mind for him." Tristan smoothly interjected, saving the bowman from his predicament.
"...Just as Sir Tristan said." Arturia said in support of her Knight's words. In truth, she just doesn't like the idea of Archer being around Morgan alone. She cannot and will never voice out why, but Instincts are telling her that she must never agree to such an arrangement.
"Oh please," Morgan rolled her eyes before smiling sadistically again. "Didn't you already demonstrate that you want nothing to do with Archer yesterday by trying - and failing - to execute him?"
"You did the sam- ow!" Mordred exclaimed but was stopped by a slap to the forehead.
"Hush, child. The grownups are talking." Morgan told the downtrodden Knight who was rubbing the sore spot.
She then looked at struggling Bowman with a maniacal stare and asked him, "What do you think, Archer? Tell her how much you want to be with me."
"First of all, I want nothing to do with you. Second of all, get off me." Archer said as he pushed her head off of his arm. He then looked towards the furious Arturia and internally gulped at the sight. He'd seen that look before, and he knows that there is only one way to save the situation.
But for some reason, the world likes to screw him over. Because before he could say a single thing, Arturia huffed and pouted to the side before standing up.
"Alright then, do what you want. This meeting is adjourned." Arturia said with such a freezing chill that the whole room felt like a snowstorm came in.
Everyone but Archer hastily got up from their seats before it disappeared. So alarmed by this abrupt end to the meeting, that he failed to centre his balance before falling on his rear. He had to be helped up by Mordred who was as confused as the test of them.
"... I suppose we must return to our duties." Lancelot broke the silence as the King closed the door behind the throne that leads to her room.
"Quite." Agravain agreed with a huff. He then turned to Mordred and said. "Let's leave half past noon. Hopefully, our mission will not take long."
"Alright, alright. I'll start to prepare." Mordred said as she let go of Archer after confirming he's alright. "See you later, Archer."
"You too. Don't cause any trouble out there." Archer replied with a smirk. The reply he got was an enthused middle finger and a toothy smile. He watched as Agravain and Mordred went their own way before redirecting his attention to the conversation between the remaining Knights and Morgan.
"Why must you be insufferable, le Fay?" Lancelot led the questioning. "Would it kill you to be less antagonistic against our King?"
"How rude." Morgan crossed her arms. Though her sadistic glee remained. "When Archer did it, you did not bat an eye. Why should your treatment of me be any different? Just because we've been enemies in our first lives, it does not mean I would continue to do so now."
"Your words contradict your actions, dear Aunt." Gawain blanched. "But I must digress. The difference between you and Sir Archer over here, is the fact that he risked his life to save many more."
"Indeed." Tristan chimed in with a firm frown. "Had he not done so, the Holy Selection would not have been amended to include everyone with no exception. You, on the other hand, simply bring mischief and discord."
"She did what?" Archer walked to stand beside an incredibly peeved Morgan. "Since when?"
"Right around the time you were about to enter the throne room." Lancelot answered. He then looked at Archer and said. "I believe you have had some sort of hand in it? From what I've heard and am hearing, you're the only one who could've done such a thing."
"Well, I expected to die yesterday. So I've got as clear of an explanation as you all would have." Archer said plainly. But deep inside, he was both relieved and confused. Was he really that much of an impact on Arturia to cause her to change her plans? Damn. At this point, he might start to believe that he does. But let's not get too hasty.
"If I had to hazard a guess." Tristan offered with a raised hand. "I would say that the King relented because of Sir Archer's selflessness in the face of death. She must have realised her folly at that moment."
"She whispered something along the lines of, 'you win'." Gawain added with a thoughtful expression. "After hearing that, I suppose Tristan's point might be true."
"Or there is something far deeper than meets the eye." Morgan said as she glanced at a suddenly tense Archer. "A detail that we've been missing this entire time, it seems."
"Possibly." Lancelot hummed. As if taking Morgan's double entendre plainly before saying, "At the end of the day, one thing is certain. Sir Archer has saved a lot of lives today. Now, we must prepare the Holy Selection with haste. The Beast will not rest until the whole of the world is his domain."
And so ended the conversation. Gawain and Tristan left to oversee the defences whilst Lancelot went on to summon the sentinels needed for the recon mission. Archer too was going to leave to settle his own affairs until a light pinch on his arm made him turn around. If only he had a special skill that can ignore annoying Pendragon servants. He'd trade his hatred for Shirou Emiya any day for that.
"Aren't you going to speak with your beloved?" Morgan smiled innocently at the flaring up of Archer's anger.
"She isn't my 'beloved'." Archer narrowed his eyes and raised his eyebrow. "Is this your new way of ruining your sister and I? Forcing us together like some sort of sick cupid?"
"Oh please, Archer. Don't be so daft." Morgan waved his accusation aside. "I'm rather content with just torturing the two of you like this."
"But why?" Archer persisted. "It can't simply be just because you want to be entertained."
"Sometimes I find joy in simplicity." Morgan stated as a matter of fact. "And what you said is the simplest answer you will ever get."
"At this point I'm starting to suspect that Avalon's done something to that head of yours." Archer deadpanned. "You probably lost whatever screws that were left in there."
"You and your quips." Morgan sighed before grabbing onto the Bowman and teleporting them to the lower sections of the Castle. The last thing Archer remembers is how nauseating the spell made him feel.
And also how much he wanted to strangle this infuriating Witch Queen for not letting him know beforehand.
Hours later… The journey to the Golan Heights…
I am Balian of Ibelin. Commander of a small force that protected the messenger of Salahuddin. Now we are tasked to march alongside a man who, under normal circumstances, is destined to be my enemy. Imad ad-Din, one of the more trusted men of Salahuddin's court, rides beside me with an army that doubles my own. Combined, our numbers are nearly 500 strong. Though 50 of them are courtiers responsible for carrying the message of their King.
To summarise everything that has led to this point, King Baldwin sent a messenger bird saying that he and his men finally established a camp at the foot of Mount Hermon. Salahuddin did not hesitate to send a reply back and so, he commanded Imad to bring his men and my own to my King's location. He also gave Imad specific orders to commend the speed of Baldwin's army. Stating that he wished to learn the ingenious strategy that the King used to get to Mount Hermon so fast.
We did not stop to rest. I suggested that a quick respite to let the horses regain their strength, but Imad declined saying that he knew a quick route that would get us there around 3 in the afternoon. I was sceptical at first, but the Hospitaller gave me assurance that no harm will befall us even without having to rest. And he was right. I can now see the mountain far in the horizon. I can also see in the distance the hilly terrain where I suspect King Baldwin's made camp upon.
"Ibelin." Imad called to me from my right. We were at the vanguard of the convoy formation we agreed upon. "I see people in the distance."
Sure enough, there were indeed people on the side of the road. They were by far the strangest group I have ever seen. Even from far away, I can tell that their oddly coloured hair and clothes are not what you would expect to see when it comes to normal locals. As we neared them, I could see that they were two individuals. A man and a woman. She was either one of those exotic slave girls or a woman with a complete lack of self discretion. I feel myself committing a sin as I gaze upon her nearly bare body. The man seems to be a merchant carrying along his hay bales on his shoulders using a curved piece of wood.
"Hello there! My name is Xuanzang Sanzanga and my disciple over here is Touta. " Waved the woman as we halted to a stop before them. "We're just travellers from the East finding a way around the mountains. Can we ask to join your party only up until we get across?"
Imad looked towards me and I, back to him. I was only acquainted with him for only a day and already I understood what he seeks to convey: these two are the most untrustworthy looking pair either of us have seen. To deal with this issue, he raised his hand to the army and signalled that none shall stop while I conversed with the woman.
"My name is Balian. Why do you seek to travel past the Golan Heights?" I asked with a hint of hostility so as to gauge the reactions of the two. To her credit, the woman simply smiled and said,
"We're simply nomads who want to explore!" The woman turned to her disciple. "Touta and I wish to travel this part of the world and experience the wonderful foods it has to offer."
"You can't go wrong with a good meal." Touta added with a smile of his own.
To their credit, I detect no amount of lies behind their speech. Odd clothing and circumstances aside. I cannot in good faith let them in our convoy lest they be servants of the enemy. Speaking of…
"Where did you come from?" I asked while noticing the Hospitaller galloping from the rear to where I was. "You must have been near this area to not have any horses."
"We have no need for horses, sir knight." Touta answered for his master. "We believe that the great Buddha sent us to this place to do great works. He expects us to accomplish this task in our own power, hence the lack of horses."
"...and where did you come from again?" I asked after a moment of confusion. Whoever this Bood-ah is, he must be very powerful to convince these two to suffer the desert heat without horses to aid them.
"Jezzine." The lady answered with that ever present smile. A smile which confuses me all the more considering they've been walking for two days to get from Jezzine to here.
"Let them in, young Balian." The Hospitaller called from behind me. "They seek no harm against us."
I turned towards the man and looked at him questioningly. He doesn't give me anything else except for that same knowing smile he's always had. It's not like I was doubting his judgement of other people's character, but these two are the strangest of all I have ever met. If their clothes and demeanour aren't enough to be convincing of my claim, then their odd names should suffice. However, I have faith in the Hospitaller. His wisdom should be taken seriously.
"Very well." I nodded to the man before turning towards the smiling pair. "You are free to accompany us in our journey. Once we arrive past the farthest hill, I will arrange some sort of transportation for you."
"Oh thank you very much, good Knight!" Xuanzang clapped her hands and bowed. "I am in your debt. Should you seek my aid, Xuanzang Sanzang shall be there for you."
"And I, Touta, shall be there as well." Touta bowed beside his master. I smiled satisfactorily and then added,
"I will arrange some winter clothing to be given to you both as well. I cannot fathom how you will survive the cold with your… interesting choice of clothing." I then turned around to notice that I took so long in speaking with the two that I was beside the rear guard. With a wave of my hand, I guided the pair to follow me so that we could still be part of the convoy.
"Oh, it's alright that you don't do that. We can handle the cold very well." Xuanzang said with confidence. "Besides, I wouldn't want you to waste supplies on us. Your assistance is enough for us."
"Oh, but we insist." The Hospitaller supported me with a consoling tone. "There are men that are weak of mind who will not interpret your current appearance as how you intend it to be. We simply suggest it for your own safety."
I turned to look at the Hospitaller and was surprised that we both have the same idea in mind. Sometimes we agree on certain things, yet the odd feeling is still there. I turned to see Xuanzang with pursed lips and a contemplative look on her face.
"I will deal with those men personally should there be any." Touta threatened with gritted teeth and clenched fists. "No one will dare make any action of ill will against my master."
"No, no, it's alright Touta. We must not let our anger get the best of us." Xuanzang looked down despondently. "Even in the West, the wickedness of men prevails." She then looked up with a decisive tone and said.
"I accept your clothing."
"Very well." I said as I cracked the reins of my horse. "I will make the arrangements once we get to our cam
"Please guide and protect them for me." I turned towards the Hospitaller. "I need to lead the convoy at the front."
"Go forth, young Balian. The Lord is with you." The Hospitaller smiled as he held a hand on the crucifix on his chest. I then galloped away from the group with my last thoughts being that the strangers must be taken care of, whilst keeping them at arm's length.
Near the foot of Mount Hermon…
The camp of the Kingdom of Jerusalem was built with only one thing in mind: haste. 2 days was too little of a time span and the higher ranking men of the Royal Court knew this. However, King Baldwin pulled a lot of strings to get his army. He needed to get some sort of military force up and mobile to address the new threat up north. A few favours and threats later, an arrangement was made. Guy de Lusignan will be left behind to command the rear guard of 750 men to collect 3 weeks worth of supplies up the river to Tiberias Lake while Tiberias, under the King's supervision, led the vanguard of 1000 men in setting up camp here at the Golan Heights. With my own soldiers now present in the King's rank, that count is now raised to 1175.
The problem with this arrangement was simple: a complete lack of manpower. Usually, mobilisation of levies and men at arms take weeks, if not months. To have a thousand soldiers in one place in such a timespan is a miracle. The question remains: Why did the King plan this?
King Baldwin tapped his finger on his lap. Imad and I stood an arm's length apart from each other just waiting for the King to finish reading Salahuddin's letter. We are in the tent of his Majesty. It was occupied by only two bodyguards standing beside the King's seat and a small cot at the corner. Nothing else was inside it. It goes to show how immediate the King's departure was.
The King's gaunt face looked up from the letter. Causing Imad to flinch whilst I blinked slowly. It appears that neither of us was properly accustomed to the sight of uncovered leprosy. His face was so disfigured and skinless, that he has no human features to show for. He has no nose, partially present lips that leave his teeth visible, and barely working eyes due to the fact that the disease made his eyelids useless. I still wonder why he decided to remove his mask. He never does anything without deeper thought.
"Your Master is very cunning." Baldwin commended with a smile that failed to convey any snide tone. "He knew that I would not have enough men, and so sent me your own to bolster my ranks."
"I do not remember my master anything of that note." Imad frowned disdainfully. "He would have told me this information while I was still with him."
"You would never have accepted." King Baldwin said as he gave the note. "But rest assured, you will only be here for as long as the journey to the city of Camelot takes. By that time, I'll have mustered the armies of Tripoli and Antioch to march alongside us. Oh, and also whatever forces Guy de Lusignan manages to find."
"This is absurd!" Imad exclaimed as his hands shook the message in rage. "Were we not enemies just days ago? Your people killed thousands of us, and we're just going to forget our hundreds of years of struggle just like that? You are too trusting of me to assume that I would not object to this."
The King looked towards me. A feeling inside me somehow knew where this was going to lead. I then braced myself for the question to come.
"How did you meet this man, Balian?" The King asked me with a knowing smile. "Surely it was in good spirits."
"Not quite, no. I ran aground near the coasts of Jaffa. The only thing that survived was myself and my horse. But a man - a Muslim chevalier - who claimed it as his own challenged me for the right to keep it. Imad at the time said that the man was his master, and goaded me to fight him. But the truth was only known to me recently. Meaning, I actually killed his servant. I ordered him to take me to Jerusalem after that. And once I arrived, I let him go in peace. With the horse his servant died to claim." I said as I side eyed Imad, who scoffed at my explanation.
"You have witnessed the character of one of my most trusted men, Imad ad-Din." King Baldwin looked towards the man with calm disposition. "Surely that must mean something to you about me, his King. Now, let me console you with two conditions."
"Conditions?" Imad asked in suspicion.
"The first is that while you are here, you only have one master: yourself. The second is that you are free to demand whatever you need to keep your men satisfied and pleased. You can speak to my right hand man, Tiberias, for anything you need, should you accept." The King then folded his hands. Pleased with his own terms.
Imad crossed his arms in contemplation. He knew that he had no choice but to stay. It was explicitly said in the letter by Salahuddin. But it doesn't make the idea easier to swallow. At least, with these conditions, the religious and cultural tensions between his men and Jerusalem can be cooled down should they reach a breaking point. Imad then sighed and said,
"I accept." He then turned to me. "Let me amend the second condition, however. I will only accept counsel between your right hand man and the Baron of Ibelin. He has proven himself to be a man amiable enough to converse with. Let his men only be the ones allowed in our part of the camp. To alleviate my soldiers'... worries."
"Granted." The King happily conceded. He then waved his hand towards the entrance of the tent. "But for the time being, please speak to Tiberias. I have other matters to attend to that concerns Balian's full attention. You are dismissed, Imad ad-Din."
Imad was about to turn around, but he noticed the King's hand going up to his forehead. I watched patiently as the King touched his forehead, bowed his head, and said.
"Salaam Alaikum." The King said as his hand lowered to his chest.
"Wa Alaikum Salaam." Imad raised his hand in respect. He turned around and left the tent. A demeanour that could be called 'pleasant' showing on the man's face. The King then faced me with a smile. A genuine one that only he could convey.
"You have done well, Balian. The Saracens depend on you to keep the peace. I expect you to excel as you have always done." The King said before pursing his lips. As if hesitant to speak.
"What do you think of the two whom you have brought here?" He asked carefully. I sensed a feeling of trepidation in his words.
"I only spoke to them briefly after meeting them at the side of the road, your Majesty." I said with a thoughtful look. "The Hospitaller I was with spent the rest of his time with them. You can speak with him should you wish to know more."
"I see." The King placed his hand on his chin. "Then tell me about the Hospitaller. I am sure he has helped you greatly in your journey."
"More than I ever thought." I said with full acceptance. "He has boundless wisdom for a simple Knight of his Order. I seek his counsel whenever it comes to the more pressing issues that befall me. His judgement of the character of men is what I relied on to see if the two who claim to hail from the East pose any danger to the camp."
"Good. Good." The King said as he stared to the side. Thinking deeply of some things that I cannot begin to guess. He then looked towards me and asked.
"I do wish to meet them, but unfortunately I cannot." The King said with slight sadness before commanding his guards to leave the tent. "Not when they are still incomplete."
"Your Majesty?" I asked in confusion as I was left alone with the King.
"It was not a coincidence that you met them today, Balian." The King said as he shook his head. "Not in the slightest. I am sorry to have kept this hidden from you until now. But I had no choice."
"What do you mean?" I asked as worry crept into my chest.
"You are part of a prophecy that was told to me the day the King of Camelot laid his eyes on our lands." The King explained as he sighed in sorrow. "The prophecy foretold that you were to be the conduit that would align Jerusalem and the Saracens against a mighty foe. You were also foreseen to be the first who would be in contact with another powerful faction who descended from the heavens. Their name is of ancient descent, yet they wield technology far advanced than any of us could ever have imagined."
"I too am part of that prophecy." The King continued without so much as blinking in realisation at how shocked I am. "In it, I died with my mask on and my horse kneeling beside me. That is partially the reason why I forgo the mask for now. Call it a vanity of mine." He chuckled to himself. As if what he said was something to be humoured about.
"I… I don't understand." I said as I placed my hands on my knees to keep myself balanced. "A prophecy? For me? But I am no one important. I'm just-"
"A blacksmith? A knight? A Baron? Come now, Balian. You were more than that. I have never allowed my court to be filled with those I deem worthy of their titles. Though, for a few exceptions. " The King rose up to touch me on the shoulders, causing me to stand up straight.
"But rest assured, God has given you a mission that neither of us can see until it has unfolded before us." The King said as we walked out of the tent. "In order to see His will done, I expect you to keep what I told you deep in your heart. Let no one know what I told you and only speak of it when it is finished."
"My King-!" I protested but I couldn't continue because I felt a hand where my heart is. I looked down and then up to see the King smiling at me cryptically. I knew that there was no time to address my worries, so I simply bowed my head in dismay.
"I am truly sorry, Balian." King Baldwin said with genuinity. "I only told you now because you are about to face your destiny." He then pointed towards a direction and I followed it until I realised what he meant.
"Up there. In Mount Hermon." The King said before walking back into his tent. "Go forth, Balian. The Lord is with you."
And as the King entered the tent, I kept my gaze up on the mountain until I found courage to walk again.
Hours later… nighttime… the path up the mountain.
The time of winter has come early this year. The snowy peaks of the mountain forced me and a handful of my men to wear thicker clothing under our armour. It is a burden that we must bear. Fortunately, our horses have their own winter clothing too. We equipped twelve of them with the clothing and attached them to six separate wagons with canopy to cover us from the snow. These wagons should suffice for the mission at hand.
As I lead the six wagon convoy, I am in charge of guiding the horses up the trail. This moment gave me the peace I needed to contemplate the things that I have learned uptil now whilst the Hospitaller conversed happily with the two strangers inside the wagon.
I cannot believe what I've heard from the King. Me? Prophecy? Ever since I came here to this land, I have always felt that my purpose here is atonement. That God punished me for my sin of killing my brother back in France. And now I'm being told that I am prophesied to be the reason for Jerusalem and the Saracens uniting under common cause? That is absurd! No man, be they King or servant, wields the power to shape the world in such a manner. Only God could do that.
But what if it's true?
No. No. It can't be. Should I continue that path of thought? No, I cannot. I am nothing but a man of insignificance. A speck in the dust within the great creation of God. Maybe God will it to be, but I cannot be certain. As always, I am but a man. A blacksmith from France who got lucky.
"Care to share your thoughts, young Balian?"
I turned to see the Hospitaller sitting beside me. I was so overcome by my own thoughts that I didn't realise he came over here.
"The King spoke to you, didn't he?" The Hospitaller guessed with that same knowing smile. I don't know what part of me caused it, but I ended up explaining to him the Prophecy. How I was the main subject of it. And what it means for the journey ahead.
"Yes, yes… I did speak with him concerning that…" The Hospitaller mumbled as he rubbed his chin in thought. "But what's the problem? You are over here languishing about a calling that God meant for you and you alone. What's wrong, Balian?"
"I must confess." I told him in a hushed voice. "I did not think that God would hear my prayers ever since I came here. Day in and night out, I thought of my time here as a means to pay for my sins. I wished for a purpose, yes. But not in this manner."
"So you feel… overwhelmed." The Hospitaller nodded in understanding.
"Quite so." I admitted as I kept my eyes on the road. "So to hear the prophecy from the King himself… it brought a great amount of doubt."
"You think you do not deserve the calling?" The Hospitaller looked at me quizzically.
"That I might fail once I face it." I corrected solemnly as I gazed upon the summit of the Mount. We stayed silent until the Hospitaller changed with me and took the reins for himself. I then went into the canopy to see the pair of which I became acquainted with and started speaking to me amiably.
"It must be a tiring day for you, Sir Knight." Xuanzang told me with concern.
"Please, you may call me Balian. And yes, it has been a challenging one." I said with a sigh as I sat down on the wagon seat where the candle lamp was.
"I do hope that you may have time to rest after assisting us around these mountains, Balian." Touta offered as well. "I wouldn't want a good man such as yourself being drained from such exhausting work."
"I thank you two for your concern. But, I can handle it." I said with a smile before morphing into a look of worry. "The enemy doesn't slumber, so why should I?"
"The Buddha once said, 'My Dharma is the practice of non-practice.'" Said Xuanzang in a teacher-like tone. "Live your life in a way that does not tire you out, but gives your body, emotions, and consciousness a chance to rest. Our body and mind have the capacity to heal themselves if we allow them to rest. Stopping, calming, and resting are preconditions for healing. By calming yourself, your worries would vanish like the morning dew. Leaving your head cool and rejuvenated for the day to come."
"...Indeed." I said with a nod of acceptance, though I understood little of what she meant. This is the first time I've heard them speak of this Buddha, so I am not quite sure if this being is their god or something else. So, I have not much to say on the matter.
"Who is this enemy you speak of, Balian?" Touta asked curiously. "From what I've heard, these lands haven't had a war in a few years now. Is it the muslim kingdom near us?"
"No, not quite. In these past few days… it appears that they have become our allies. If you could stretch the term to its greatest extent." I explained with a heavy sigh. "There is a Kingdom up north that claims to be Camelot: from the legends of old. They sent messengers to my city in Jerusalem as well as up there at Damascus. They wished for the complete, unyielding fealty of our two Kings with the punishment of rejection being that they are to march against us and destroy everything in their path."
"And did they say why they wanted to subjugate you?" Xuanzang narrowed her eyes. Her worry for an incoming conflict is clearly evident on her face. Touta as well.
"According to the man who claims to be Lancelot du Lac, the reason for their demands is because they seek to unite the lands to fight against the Human King. King Baldwin - my King - said that this Human King is actually the Beast from the book of Revelations. A being of insurmountable power who would come to dominate the world during the End of Days."
The two absorbed this information in silence. They must be the type of people to not like war. They were a very sociable pair. If what I heard from the Hospitaller had anything to say about it. From what he's told me, they treated everyone they met in the camp like long time friends. Even those hardy fellows from the times of the War against Salahuddin seemed to come out of their trances just to speak with them. I also heard that they went to the Muslim encampments to converse with the men there. They treated everyone equally. Religious differences are not barriers for them. It's an admirable trait to have, in deeper considerations. So to hear that there might be another war on the horizon must be painful for them.
CRASH!
"What was that?" Touta asked as we turned towards the probable location of the sound. Xuanzang looked out of the wagon entrance, while I went towards the Hospitaller to see from there.
A dust cloud can be seen above the highest point of the summit. We are near enough to see it clearly, but what caused it is still to be seen. I cannot risk the horse wagons. We have to stop here and now.
"Park the wagon here. We will not take them to the summit. We will walk from here." I commanded the Hospitaller, to which he compiled without a word. I then left his side to go towards the back and signalled the wagons following me to do the same.
Once we got off the horses, I counted our number before letting them prepare for the trek to the come. I brought with me 20 of my hardiest men and equipped them with light weapons like swords and shields. Including my group, we are 24. I do not know the capabilities of the 2 from the East, so I ensured that they will never leave my side and the Hospitaller's.
"Are the men ready?" I asked the Hospitaller, who was giving the two weapons they could use.
"They are." The Hospitaller said before turning towards Touta. "The only ones unequipped are these two."
"Please, we don't need your weapons." Xuanzang smiled and raised her hand. "We can defend ourselves and your men. You can trust in us to protect you all."
"It's the least we can do for your kindness." Touta added with great confidence.
I nodded in acknowledgement. I supposed that their words hold some sort of weight due to their truthfulness. It's not like I am forbidding them to fight, anyways. So, I just gave what weapons to spare to the others. With everything said, we started the trek up the peak.
There is not much to be said about the hike up. Only that the cold winds that were weaker than a breeze before are getting stronger each step we take. It's a good thing we came here prepared with scarves. Otherwise, we'd give up before we even got there. If only we had some way to protect our vision from the snowfall. We cannot fight with our eyes impaired like this.
"Balian!" Touta exclaimed from behind me. "I see something moving up ahead."
He must have sharper eyes than most, because even after a few minutes of walking I still cannot see what he is talking about. The dust cloud may have vanished, but the snow replaced it in haste. I do not know how close we are to the summit. Hopefully we can-
FFFWOOOOSSHH!
"Balian, get down!" Xuanzang exclaimed as something bright erupted from a distance. It came hurtling down towards me and my men with a thunderous explosion coming after it missed all of us. It tore a hole on the ground we were just walking on. My men began lining up in formation to shield me from any more harm. They all knelt side by side. Shield up front and sword positioned beside that to stab any incoming enemy that dares attack us.
"Who goes there!" The Hospitaller yelled from the centre of the shield wall as he raised his sword towards the direction of the attack. Touta stood to his right with a red bow and arrow that I do not recall him ever bringing. Where did he get that?
No one answered save for the sound of the howling wind. The darkness of the night did not help us at all when it came to finding our enemy. We then heard a whistle in the wind. No one knows where it's coming from. I was helped up by Xuanzang, who then looked up and said,
"Above us!"
I hastily grabbed my sword and gazed upon a shadow that showered us in that same thing from before. The shield wall was being blown away by the explosions that hit the ground near them. As my men fell, I realised that they were mostly intact. They were battered, yes. But not bleeding or dying. I have to act fast before I am made wrong.
"Scatter, men! Don't stick together." I yelled at them.
My men quickly separated and did all they could to avoid the incoming danger. I cannot do anything else but protect myself. I looked to see Touta firing arrows at the shadow with deadly accuracy. I applaud his courage to stand still in the face of this terror. Every arrow he's released causes the shadow to twist and swerve in the sky. The shadows have stopped its attack on us because of Touta. But where is his master?
"You will not get away!"
I turned towards Xuanzang as she summoned a staff out of thin air. I felt my jaw slacken as she started running at great speed before leaping higher and faster than any bird that I've seen. The staff grew in size as Xuanzang swatted the shadow onto the ground. It hurtled down from the sky like a boulder. A crater formed where it fell. A large dust cloud along with it. I did not hesitate for a second. My stupefaction for what I just saw now set aside to take advantage of Xuanzang and Touta's efforts.
"Surround the thing!" I yelled with my sword raised high.
The Hospitaller ran towards my side first with his sword and shield in hand. The rest followed quickly after that. Once the dust settled and the snow cleared just enough, I realised that one of my men had the bright idea of bringing a lamp with him. I was right in choosing them. I took the lamp in my hands and signalled them to face their sword and shield in front of them. I then held the lamp towards the crater. And lo and behold. None of us expected it. If someone were to tell me a young girl bordering promiscuity and nakedness will be the death of me, I would have killed him then and there for the crime of sheer stupidity.
"Agh… my butt hurts…" the girl said as she rubbed her rear. She was a black haired girl with blood red eyes. She got up to look straight at me and then stared at my men on guard and ready to deal with any more attacks from her.
"What are you?" I growled at the girl. "And why did you attack us?"
"Hoh?" The girl looked at me haughtily as she placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head. "I'm impressed. To think that a commoner like you has the gall to speak to me in that way. I should be asking you that question myself, you know."
"You started it." Xuanzang said as she stood beside me with her staff beside her.
"Well, if I hadn't then you would have harmed my master." the girl pointed at me accusingly. "Look at yourselves. Tell me you aren't here to fight, and I'll tell you I'm unconvinced. Hmph! You should be thanking me for sparing your lives. Ungrateful mortals." The girl huffed as she crossed her arms in indignation.
It was at this point I turned towards the Hospitaller for guidance. In times like these, only he seemed to have some sort of answer that I can work with. As I looked towards my left, I noticed that he was looking far away. I followed the direction of his gaze, and what I saw surprised me. Again. I should really stop being shocked by everything I see.
"Ishtar! I told you we were supposed to talk to them!" A black haired boy exclaimed as he ran towards us. He was not alone. Beside him are two other individuals. A young girl with orange hair and a woman with brown hair and blue eyes. He must be the master she speaks of. Is she a slave of sorts? That would explain the clothing.
"Ah, master! Just in time." Ishtar smiled devilishly as she pointed a finger towards me. "Let's deal with these idiots together." Her hand started to glow, causing me and my men to recoil in fear for the attack to come.
"Ishtar no!" the orange haired girl yelled as she tried to run in between the gap of the circle made of my men. She failed in doing so, because she bumped into them and fell on her rear.
"Agh… my butt…" the girl whined in a manner similar to this 'Ishtar' she spoke to.
"I think there has been a misunderstanding." The woman smiled at me as she helped the orange girl up. "We're not here to fight you. You see-"
"Please." I interjected rudely. "I understand that you have a story to tell, but allow me this: restrain this girl that attacked us first and swear an oath to me before God that everything you say to me is of full and sound truth. Only then will I listen to what you all have to say."
"...Come over here, Ishtar." the boy told the girl still pointing her finger at me.
"Hmph!" Ishtar huffed in annoyance. "You are lucky this time." She then seemed to come off the ground like she was being carried by some invisible force before landing right beside her compatriots. Who are now close to see properly. I noticed that the winds have lessened to some degree. Causing the snow to not be a nuisance to us.
I then pierced the ground with my sword and placed the lamp I had in hand right before it. My men were standing beside me with their swords still in hand. Anxious for any attacks that might come.
"Do you swear to me that we will speak in cordial fashion?" I asked with all the intimidation I could muster. "With all that you say filled with nothing but the truth?"
"We swear." The boy answered for them.
"Do you swear to God Above that she will not harm us." I pointed accusingly towards Ishtar, who still had the audacity to look offended.
"She swears! She swears." The orange girl panickedly held Ishtar back. "She'll be good."
"Then our pact is established." I then took the sword from the ground and sheathed it. "First, who are you? And why are you here?"
"Oh? Not questioning how?" The brown haired woman cheekily quipped. "What if I told you we were angels sent by God to aid you in your quest?"
"Then you would be breaking the oath we made." I countered as I narrowed my eyes. The boy and the orange girl jumped in fear of me, while the brown haired girl just laughed.
"Oh, you're no fun." She said as she covered her mouth. "To start, we are part of CHALDEA. A… faction, to put it simply, dedicated to restoring order in the world."
… Could they be… Of course they are. There is nothing else that can challenge what the King has told me.
"Ur of Chaldeans…" I muttered under my breath.
"Close, but not quite." The brown girl explained. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Allow me to introduce to you my masters."
"This one is named Fujimaru Ritsuka." The boy waved hesitantly.
"This one is named Fujimaru Ritsu." The orange girl nodded enthusiastically.
"And I am The Divine Goddess Ishtar!" The scantily clothed girl exclaimed as she struck a pose. "Goddess of Love, War, and Fertility. The mistress of the Divine Bull and Venus herself."
"And I am Leonardo Da Vinci. Or, is it Leonora? Y'know I've been thinking about that for a while now… Anyways, just call me Da Vinci." Da Vinci hastily finished before dead air sprung up.
"Well met." I said with honesty. "I am Balian of Ibelin. Sent by my King, Baldwin of Jerusalem to this mountain in search of you."
"In search of us? But you didn't know who we were." Ritsuka questioned with confusion in his voice.
"I know." I said before signalling my men to return to the horse wagons. "But I've been told by my King of a prophecy. One that foretold your arrival… and my discovery of you."
"W-wait, what?" Ritsu exclaimed as the only people left before her were Balian, the old man, and two individuals covered in winter clothing. "That's so weird! Is that why you have two servants with you? Because you knew that we were coming?"
"Servants?" I asked in surprise. "I have no servants."
"You do though. They're right beside you." Ritsuka pointed towards Xuanzang and Touta. Who looked towards me as if guilty of a crime worth punishing.
"I think we should discuss this with the King." The Hospitaller clasped my shoulder and successfully got me out of my trance. "There is now more to this issue than meets the eye."
"Quite." I frowned in frustration. And as the clouds broke apart, the moon shone under us. Then I remembered a previous conversation with the King himself and it all clicked.
"You are part of the moonlit world, aren't you?" I asked the members of CHALDEA. Who blinked in curiosity as to how I knew that work.
"Well, after finding us. Wouldn't you say that you're now one with it too?" Da Vinci asked with that same cheeky smile.
I did not dignify that question with an answer. I then led them to the wagons and conversed with them there. After learning about them even deeper. About Servants. About the system of which they used. About the destruction of the world. About these 'singularities.' About all the other secrets that no man ever dreamed of being real. After learning all that…
I wished then and there that I remained a simply blacksmith from France.