065 - Travels and interruptions

Marie Antoinette

She felt it the very moment they stepped into the Gauls, like a jolt running from the tip of her toes and up her spine until it reached her head, carrying the absolute certainty that she was home. It was funny, in a way. The Gauls aren't France and her kingdom doesn't even exist at this point in time, but the heart cares not for such things.

Names may change, borders may shift, cultures and languages may drift but… as long as the faintest traces of recognition remain, this will be a place she can call home.

In this form, she's a mere Rider, a fleeting thing of grace and freedom, more fit to inspire and comfort than to properly rule., Her legend also lacks any particular feat of administrative skills that would make the jump to her spirit origin. In other words, she may know she's home, but she has no way of knowing how 'home' is doing.

Is the people happy, she wonders?

Are they well fed? Do their lives keep them busy? Do they earn enough money? Do they have enough fun? Are they…?

…

…

…

Ara? What else are peasants supposed to care about? Surely there's more to their lives than bread and circus?

… Hmm, this is hard.

Try as she might, she can't think of anything else! Even back in the day… she never knew her people as well as she probably should. The disconnect between the hallways of Versailles and the streets of Paris ran much deeper than she ever suspected until… Well, until the end. That was a disappointing discovery, that her attempts at helping might've aimed at the wrong targets, that she might've been taking things for granted when she really shouldn't, that all her efforts… were missing the point.

…

…

…

How are the Romans doing around the Gauls, she wonders? They have a reputation for being good administrators, so at least they should be capable of covering the basic needs of the people. But they also have a reputation for corruption and hedonism, so maybe they are cold and uncaring tyrants, building fortunes on the backs of the people by despoiling the land without a second thought.

Then again, they were a big deal for a whole bunch of centuries, so it makes sense they weren't always the same! Is it a good thing that the Roman Empire fell? Or would it have been better for everyone if it had continued for a bit longer?

Is this land that will one day become her beloved France… in good hands right now?

"Marie?" Master suddenly calls out to her, pulling her out of her reverie. "You seem lost in thought."

She takes a moment to blink and shift her thoughts back into normal gear before turning around towards the voice. Master is watching her with a hint of concern. Which isn't cute at all! Master should smile and bounce around doing crazy things that will make Olga yell at her. That's how things are supposed to work!

… But it wouldn't be fair to dismiss her concern either, so Marie can hardly play dumb here.

"Ahaha…" She chuckles instead, sheepishly as she rubs the back of her head. "You caught me, Master."

"Feeling a bit melancholic?"

"... How?"

"Hey now, I may not be as perceptive as you when it comes to all this emotional stuff." Master pouts cutely resting a hand on her hips. "But I can do this much, at least."

Yes, Master can at least do that much. She's actually quite perceptive, now that Marie stops to think about it. Master always seems to notice when someone is feeling a bit down. It's happened with Olga-chan and Mashu-chan and even Eli-chan. It's just that Marie has never found herself on the other end of that concern so she just kind of… G-Geez, she's being terribly unfair with Master today, isn't she? What's wrong with her?

"Just thinking a bit of back home, you know?" She finally admits, voice maybe a bit softer than she intended it to be. "Of the things I did and the things I didn't… and how everything came to an end."

It's easy to put on a strong face and say you have no regrets, but… To have no regrets is tantamount to declaring you did nothing wrong. Which means everything that goes wrong would always be someone else's fault. Now, that's not a very nice attitude to have, is it?

"Well, reflecting on the past is fine, as long as you don't dwell on it too much." Master comments, maneuvering her mount so she can put a hand on Marie's shoulder. "Past mistakes are a lesson we learned so we can make new and fascinating mistakes today, that one day will become even more lessons of the past to our future selves. So we can keep making different mistakes."

"Oh, my!" Marie covers her lips with a hand and lets out a giggle. "I never heard anyone putting it quite like that."

"Today is better than yesterday was, tomorrow will be better than today is." Master nods, giving her a wink and a confident grin. "The only way that's not true, is by giving up!"

Marie's heart skips a beat.

"G–Geez, who is supposed to be the charismatic and inspiring queen here?" She manages to stammer out, covering her face with both hands in an attempt to hide her suddenly burning cheeks. "If you keep saying things like that, you'll leave me without a job, Master!"

"My bad, my bad. I guess all this riding without anything else to do made my mind go to weird places." Master apologizes without feeling sorry in the slightest, the meanie! "How are you doing, by the way? Is your Noble Phantasm holding up alright!"

Marie pouts at the unsubtle change of topics. It's not fair to make her all flustered like that and then take away her chance to fire back! Yeah, she would've fired back with… something! She can tease and fluster too, you know? She can tease and fluster like the best of 'em!

"I had never used it quite like this before, but it should hold up just fine. Still takes a lot of energy, though…" She admits, trailing off with a sigh. "I'm afraid I won't be of much use in combat after this, Master."

"Hey, now! Nothing of that now!" Master hurries to reassure Marie, because she's reliable like that! "We're hitching a ride for free, so of course you get to take a break while us lazy asses earn our pay."

"You get paid?"

"Actually, we do. Pretty handsomely at that. But that's not the point." Master reveals something Marie had no idea about, only to trail off as she turns her head to stare ahead. "The point is… Huh."

"Huh? What do you… Oh, look, Master!" Marie follows Master's gaze, a smile blooming on her lips when she notices the mountain chain rapidly growing taller in front of them. "The Pyrennees! We are finally reaching Iberia."

"Would you look at that? And still not a hint of opposition." Master grins. "I don't want to tempt Murphy, but it looks like Rin's plan worked without a—"

Which is, maybe inevitably, the moment when something goes wrong.

And, with something, Marie means a golden lightning bolt falling from the sky. A lightning bolt that refuses to dissipate into the ground and instead opts for hovering right above it, a crackling spear waiting in place for something… or someone.

"... Me and my big mouth." Master groans in dismay.

It happens in the blink of an eye, maybe even faster. One moment the spear of lightning hovers in place unattended, the next moment it rests in the hands of a tall and dark figure clad in a winged, pitch-black armor.

"Greetings, visitors from beyond time and space." The newcomer speaks slowly, with a voice that's deep and rich and makes a shiver run down Marie's spine. "Even in dire times like these, this blackened Rome welcomes you."

Whoever this man is, he's powerful and dangerous.

Altera (Goddess)

Altera has no direct experience with naval combat. Her lesser selves fought on foot or horseback, her higher selves didn't see a need to care about the difference between land and sea. That said, she remains the King of Combat.

There's a sort of flow to any armed conflict, requisites and conditions, preparations and positioning and tactics, clashes and struggles, retreats and push-throughs, victory and defeat. It's all a flow that gets painted on the colors of circumstance, but remains essentially the same. Just watching the forces arrayed at both sides, Altera can already get a good idea of how things are supposed to play out. Once their forces clashed, that idea resolved into a clear picture.

What she saw made her frown.

The Purple Legions arrayed against their forces didn't even try to meet them at the sea, choosing to fortify the coasts of Iberia instead, fully giving up the initiative to fight from a defensive position. There's no way they didn't see them coming, right? They weren't particularly subtle, right? Even if this attack caught the Purple Legions by surprise, they should've been capable of contesting them at the sea and giving them trouble.

But they didn't. Suspicious, way too suspicious.

And then the Crimson Legions reached the coasts of Iberia and were finally met with opposition but, no matter how Altera tried to read the flow, the results were disappointing. The Purple Legions had more soldiers, yes. They weren't limited by the carrying capacity of a navy, after all. There are also various low-quality Servants amongst their numbers, yes.

But… that was it. Altera didn't like it one bit.

This clash won't be won by defensive positions, it won't be won by number of soldiers. It will be won by Servants capable of shattering entire armies on their knees, it will be won by Noble Phantasms capable of turning land and sky upside down. As things stand, the flow of combat is clear. The Crimson Servants could win this fight alone. Altera could win this fight alone.

So… where are the heavy hitters of the Purple Empress?

Bows rain burning arrows to set the Crimson ships aflame, siege weapons throw huge boulders to send them straight to the bottom of the sea, or clay containers filled wicked concoctions that set the very waves aflame. It's all useless, worthless.

Ten thousand bullets swat the arrows away mid-flight, Crimson Archer's infamous [Three-Line Formation - Ten Thousand Worlds] spitting out a constant stream of death into the sky.

Eight horsemen ride into the sky as they blow the siege boulders to dust with their mighty spear, Crimson Lancer's [Rotating Formation - Bishamonten's Eight Aspects] allowing to be seemingly everywhere at once.

The waves themselves reject the vile concoctions trying to subvert the natural order of things, Crimson Saber's [Mana Burst - Divine Water] purifying the chemical fire with contemptuous ease.

Various Noble Phantasms try to reach the ships from the coast. Glorious streams of light and hideous bursts of darkness, the hopes and curses of humanity crystalized as various legends. Each and every single one of them is a trump card supposed to turn a fight around.

… Altera is sure they deserve better than getting shot down by [Photon Ray] like moths flying too close to the fire, but that's the fate they get all the same. Things will get a bit more hectic once the Crimson Legions land, but the Rider and Assassin haven't even had a chance to shine yet. The flow of combat remains firmly in their favor.

And then, everything changes.

Not in the front, no.

The Crimson Legions will win this fight.

But… up North.

The skies darken unnaturally over the Pyrenees as a pitch-black, coiling cloud takes shape out of nowhere. A golden lightning bolt falls down from the very center, only for the very cloud to follow after it's wake. Altera knows what that means.

Purple Lancer has found the Chaldeans.

"What's that fucker doing there?" Master cries out in indignant incredulity, but she doesn't let the shock paralyze her. It only takes her a moment to adapt to the situation and point her right hand -already glowing red- in that direction. "Saber, go to the Chaldeans! By the power of my Command Spell, make sure they're safe!"

"Yes, Master."

She's already flying ahead in her astralized form, even before the Command Spell takes hold. It will be a shame to leave the front lines, but her initial assessment on the flow of combat remains. This fight will be won with or without her presence, and she's needed els—

*!-!-!-!*

Her combat instincts flare in warning and it's all she can do to materialize and twist to the side before a heeled boot slams against her shoulder, sending her plummeting into the sea below like a shooting star. It only takes her a moment to recover, but it's a moment longer than she could afford.

A monstrous golden blade slams into Photon Ray with enough force to push Altera down, forcing her to give ground to the ambusher until her feet reach the bottom of the sea floor and she gets enough leverage to push back. Even then, their two blades remain locked and she lacks the raw strength to simply push away her enemy.

There's no disengaging from here, she's been pinned down.

"My, my… Trying to leave so early?" Her opponent drawls out slowly, a sharp smile on her lips. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Altera."

"Medusa…"

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