Chapter 15: Chapter 15
The man in in front of him wore a dazzling white robe around his body, and he was a man more suited to the term 'pretty.' Long silver hair cascaded down his back, and his face was smooth with slightly rounded cheeks and bangs that fell just near his grey coloured eyes.
"Are you not yet amazed?" Nilrem asked, tapping his staff against the ground as he leaned on it with one arm.
Far from amazed, Shirou was debating on calling out this farce. Nilrem was obviously Merlin. There was no other wizard as renowned in the era as him. The greatest magus to have lived, other than Solomon, by the accounts of Rin and her associates from the Clock Tower, the central training and enforcement hub of the residents of the twilight world.
Even if he had never met this man before, even if he had never once spoken to him, he could never forget him. Based on his appearance and even his mannerisms, he was the one who could clearly be said to have been at the root of it all.
In the dreams.
A connection between him and Saber in the Holy Grail War. As Master and Servant, the two shared a pact able to convey one's memories through dreams.
"That depends, if you believe I don't know who you really are," Shirou spoke.
"Indeed, I already know what you're thinking, but uhm well," Nilrem placed a hand on his chin. "Let's just say that there are some matters I won't speak of at this moment."
With a wave of his hand, two large roots sprouted from the ground and formed into two small stumps. "Well, take a seat," Nilrem instructed.
Shirou took a moment to decide on a course of action, but ultimately decided that it was best for him to observe Merlin in person than to rely on just Saber's memories alone. To him however, one thing was clear. He would need Merlin's help to assure Arturia a happy future, and for that he was willing to do anything. Even if he harbored a dislike towards the actions Merlin took in Saber's memories, the Merlin before him now had not yet done those acts. And he never will so long as he had any say in it.
Tentatively, he sat down, placing the bow he had slung on his shoulder on the ground as a show of his focus. There was only one question he wanted to ask, and now would be the best time. "Why did you wait for me? It's entirely possible for you to have just left." There was no way the world's greatest mage did not possess a means of fast travel.
"Not going to ask why I came here?" Nilrem asked a tad surprised.
"I can guess that you wouldn't have told me anyway," Shirou said. "We've just met and its unreasonable to demand answers at this point."
"I see I see," Nilrem nodded his head."I suppose my evaluation of you was a tad off. I suppose I can remove 'naïve' from the assessment."
On what bases was he being tested on? Somehow, Shirou decided that he would rather not know the answer.
"I don't suppose you'd be willing to share your magecraft?"
Shirou shook his head. He was no longer the fool who would reveal his cards before even assessing the situation. It was something that had taken Rin countless years to at least get him to consider. That and to smile pleasantly in the company of others.
"Stop that," Nilrem instantly replied. "I don't know why but seeing that smile on your face is quite off putting. Maybe its cause you're not a woman."
"Fine then, I was just taught it best to smile at times like these," Shirou spoke.
"If you would stop, I will answer your question, but in turn, you answer mine."
Equal exchange. He could agree with that. After all it was the first thing one would have to bring up when in an exchange of information. That, or bargain with material goods and future favours.
"The reason I had waited for you is quite simple, curiosity. You are a person, that even I, the greatest Wizard in the land am unable to see what your future may hold."
Understandable, Shirou rested his head on his hand. For someone like Merlin who was said to be able to foresee the future, his arrival into the era would inevitably cause a change in the entire timeline, but to him it didn't matter. So long as the outcome leads to one that's the most ideal, that's all he could strive to work towards.
"Since that is all, it's now my turn." Nilrem stared directly into Shirou's eyes. "What is your purpose in befriending that child?"
If it wasn't for the way Nilrem had noticed the way the two looked at each other on the battlefield, curiosity or not, he definitely wouldn't have waited to confront Shirou. Except this matter was a matter he couldn't let off so easily without an answer.
He's talking about Arturia, Shirou instantly deduced. Of course, he would. Matters that concerned her, would justly concern this great Wizard. It was why he had aided in acquiring King Uther's wife after all.
After a moment of him not answering, Nilrem once again asked, growing a tad impatient.
"Why would you stay so close to this child?"
Shirou straightened his back before answering, staring directly at Nilrem's face. "I can see the potential, of what this child will eventually become and wish to become a pillar of support," he spoke without pause.
"And how would you know that?" Nilrem frowned. "Her potential I mean?"
"I can see the future," he humorlessly joked.
A hint of surprise fell over Nilrem's face. For some reason, he could tell that the boy was lying, but another part of him wouldn't settle down on the issue either. "Truly? Then what do you see in that future."
Shirou didn't speak for a while, and instead turned his gaze to the bustling activity of the military camp celebrating their recent victory. "A sword in the stone," he spoke softly, reaffirming his goals.
The rustling of clothes and the thump of a staff was the only thing that alerted him that Nilrem had suddenly stood up, a silent calculative gleam in his eyes. After a moment, he sighed before sitting back down.
"Those words, am I to believe that you will uphold them?" The tone in which Nilrem was speaking had suddenly changed along with his demeanor. No longer was he laid back and relaxed, instead now all that Shirou could see was a man focused in all seriousness.
"Of course," he answered back in kind. "I had made an oath that I would do all in my power to protect her."
"Even though your blood is tied with the blood of the beasts," Nilrem spoke grimly.
"What?" Shirou didn't understand what Nilrem meant.
"From the moment, I laid eyes on you at that battlefield, my mixed blood began calling. You may not know what all this means at the moment, but you will in time. And when that time comes, you must remember the best of intentions may not always have the best of consequences." Nilrem set aside his staff and crossed his arms in front of him. "Always keep that in mind."
"I, I don't understand?" Of course, he couldn't understand it. Half of what was just said didn't make any sense to him, but Nilrem seemed to have the utmost confidence in his speech.
Rather than answering, Nilrem took his staff and lightly pressed it onto the Ashton Magic Crest. A small light shone as a grimace appeared over Nilrem's face. "You yourself may just be the one that the child must be wary of," he spoke. "But still, I have understood your resolve, and the will of that man."
His breath hitched. Him, endanger Arturia? No, there was no way he could ever allow that to happen. "W-What do you mean?" He demanded, pushing away Nilrem's staff, and standing up from the stump he was sitting on.
"I cannot tell you," Nilrem spoke as he too stood up, and dusted his clothes. "That is a matter to be settled by the beasts."
Shirou fell silent, unable to comprehend himself ever hurting Arturia. There was simply just no possibility of that happening.
"Regardless," Nilrem muttered to himself as he turned to leave. "But I suppose that's what makes life fun. So, until next time little magus, and don't forget what was spoken here today."
A moment passed, then two, before a single word escaped Shirou's mouth.
"Wait!"
LINE BREAK
Arturia hesitated as she watched Emily and the Son of Wolfred make their way to the allied camp set up adjacent to the battlefield. On one hand, she wished to join them and reach her three idiots as fast as possible, but her curiosity was preventing her from doing so.
"It's got to be here somewhere."
She turned and watched Palamid wandering around the remains of the battlefield, her expression shocked beyond belief.
Beautiful flowing hair, a tender face, and even a pair of round blue eyes, making Arturia come to a conclusion she knew could not be false.
"You," she spoke uncertainly, garnering Palamid's attention.
As if Palamid could understand her intentions, a soft voice escaped past his lips. "Truth be told, even now I find it hard to believe that we are the same."
Yes, Arturia nodded her head. There was no doubt Palamid was a woman like herself. A slight pang of jealousy blossomed in her heart staring at Palmid's earnest gaze. The word beautiful was simply not enough of a description, and she felt inadequate staring at such a splendor that required it to be hidden behind a helm. Still, she voiced her opinions. "Is the full helm really important?" Sure, they offered more protection by covering the whole face, but visibility and reaction time were reduced as a result.
Palamid glanced at her before scowling. "Surely you don't mean to say you prefer being looked down upon because of our appearance?"
She frowned as well, recalling memories of the sparing matches between her and the other young Squires in Bristol. Just because of her appearance, a feminine face and a slender body unable to show even the barest hints of any large muscle tones, didn't mean that she was incapable. "That's when you prove them wrong," she simply said. "Make them see the error in underestimating a pretty face."
Palamid nodded. "Agreed," he spoke before lowering his voice. "But don't you find that expression on their faces beyond even unpleasant?"
Arturia rose a brow, unable to understand what Palamid meant.
Palamid brushed back his hair behind his left ear, lips thinning before speaking out in contempt. "When they praise you with flowery words and gift you with gifts before slyly trying to wrap their arms around you? Never before have I felt such fear from my fellow men."
"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure what you mean." The most she could relate to was when Sir Ector and Kay would ruffle her hair.
Palamid didn't answer and instead knelt down to push aside a pile of corpses out of the way. Yet still there was nothing beneath them. He clicked his tongue. He was sure it had dropped here somewhere. "It doesn't matter if you don't know. You'll understand as soon you join a Knight order, but all that you have to know is that I'm already sick of it." He laughed derisively. "Did you not know that my comrades even refuted our vows as Knight brothers. We eat together and we sleep together, but I'm barred entry to the changing halls and instead given a different designated area to change? What a load of horse shit!" Palamid spoke as he recounted more and more previously repressed memories. "Who do they think they are thinking to lecture me about preserving my own dignity as if I should know better!"
Arturia smiled wryly, unable to voice anything of use at the moment, but internally she was admiring Palamid's boldness. To change in a company of men, she could see clearly now how much effort that would take. But in her case, she couldn't risk getting discovered.
"And that's precisely why till this day I always wear a helm," Palamid finished his rant before staring honestly at Arturia. "Which is why I must find my helmet."
Arturia nodded slowly before asking the obvious. "If it's a helmet, aren't there plenty around?" She didn't flinch in the slightest even as Palamid brow rose.
"Do you not understand?" Palmid fell silent for a moment before sighing. "Well I suppose you wouldn't know since you weren't here, but Sir Shirou enchanted the equipment of mine and my Knight brother's with a mysterious magic. Even it's just my head piece, it is already highly valuable to me."
If what Palamid spoke was true, then she could understand his prolonged search. Her armour and weapons as well were already enchanted by Shirou, and the protectiveness of her armour when compared to regular plate was incomprehensible.
"To me, and the other Knights, this gift by Sir Shirou is a treasure beyond compare," Palamid spoke as he once again began scouring the battlefield. "Did you not see how many blows were shrugged off, and how many weapons and plates of steel were cut through? It wouldn't a surprise if someone had plotted to steal it."
In terms of war, superior equipment often trumps skill. When a spear is placed in the hands of a peasant, then that peasant now had the ability to kill without much effort. Similarly, if two knights of even standing and ability fought, then truly it was a matter of who possessed the sharper blade. Even earlier, the advantages were displayed in full sight of the opposing army and allied army. A mere foot troop of two-hundred clashed evenly with a substantially greater force.
News of this battle would no doubt soon spread throughout the country, and Palamid had no doubts that if given the chance, thieves would jump into the fray. It was why Bors had given him and the rest of the Knights a keen reminder to keep vigilant watch of their belongings, from enemy and ally alike. The Knights could trust each other, but they could not say the same for the others individuals who served a different Lord.
"Ah! Found it!" Palamid spoke, his hands digging through another pile of corpses to reveal the helmet beneath.
Arturia released a small sigh before she looked in the direction of the camp looking for three certain individuals. She wasn't able to speak with them in the midst of the fighting, but now she had nothing to bar her away.
"If I may ask a question that's been bothering me," Palamid began as he and Arturia walked to camp. "Was that the same bird who attacked me in our previous duel?"
"Yes," was the swift answer.
"It's too big to be," Palamid promptly rebuked.
"They grow fast, but why are you asking all of a sudden."
Palamid stared blankly at Arturia as Efret walked leisurely beside them. It had grown tired of being surrounded by other humans vying to glimpse its magnificent visage. Rumours had already started that it was some sort of divine bird granted from above to bring victory. It didn't help that Efret didn't attack any who approached him, but instead simply relaxing itself within its feathers, content to be near its master's vicinity. Yet it didn't forget what its master had asked of him.
"Oh him? He's harmless. He's just been following me a lot recently."
"Harmless," Palamid thought back to all the burnt corpses scattered across the war zone. "I think not. But if anything, we will part ways here. Father is expecting me."
Arturia nodded as Palmid left to enter one of the tents designed for high ranking individuals in the military camp. She did the same, but instead headed in the direction where the banner of Wolfred stood proudly.
As soon as they had entered camp, people once again surrounded Efret, their gazes in awe, and some even going as far as bowing. Most were beginning to consider it a holy beast. Even more so when many of the soldiers and Knights on their side heard that commander Barwheld had sent an order to rally to the glorious bird. None would argue of Efret's contributions to the battlefield, which was why an assortment of food was laid out in front of him. It wasn't a human so its merits could not warrant the distribution of land or a large sum of money, but instead, they would spare no expense to feed their mighty benefactor.
Noticing the food laid out in front of Efret, Arturia gave a nod before leaving Efret to enter into the camp of the Knights of Wolfred. Looking at how many other soldiers and Knights from the various other towns were surrounding the camp to get a look at the esteemed Knight troop, she felt pride knowing that they originated from her home town.
Ever since the end of the battle, silent whispers and boisterous rounds of praise echoed throughout the camp for the presumed suicide squad. With a strength of merely two-hundred, no one expected the Knight troop to triumph, even more so with news of the superior quality of their equipment. Something she knew quite well from an early age as most of hers were also enchanted with protections.
Still, for the other soldiers to see a sword cut through stone first hand like it was nothing, was an entirely different experience. And who else was demonstrating the superior quality of the weapon than the Son of Wolfred who was using Palamid's borrowed sword. Regardless of the force of the swing, or how mediocre it was executed, without fail, it easily cut through the rows of stone some other soldiers had rolled to them as a test.
With each strike, she could see more and more, the sheer astonishment on the faces of the Knights and soldiers. She could even see some nobles mixed into the crowd whispering discreetly between each other. Nonetheless, these matters didn't concern her as much as the mop of silky and perfect shoulder length hair that had entered her vision.
She didn't even think twice about what she was going to do. She pulled off her solleret, her shoe piece, and threw it with all her might at the head of silky hair.
Although the feeling of mud between her toes was uncomfortable, she could deal with it for now before washing it off in the river Glein.
A resounding yell of indignation soon followed after her actions before promptly dying as Kay met her gaze.
"Any last words?" She spoke as her sword naturally drew itself in front of her.
"Is the damn horse here?" Kay asked, looking back and forth warily.
"No?" Arturia spoke confused.
"Good," Kay smiled as he turned around and ran. "Then you'll never catch me!?"
For a moment, she was utterly speechless, before her anger suddenly erupted like a scorching flame. "Are you not a man!" She yelled giving chase.
How could she just let him off this easily? She knew that she couldn't do anything to Sir Ector, but Kay? That was a whole different story. "Get back here!" and let me vent!
However, before she could even continue to give chase, she noticed Emily quietly attending to a flame, a small pot hung over head in which she used to cook. Her sprint shifted to a jog, and then to a walk, before coming to a full stop.
For some reason, watching her cook and serve dishes out to the other Knights gave her a stark feeling of inadequacy. Like she was losing to her in something. Maybe she could try cooking too? Thinking about it, wasn't just as easy as dumping a handful of fat onto the food to make it taste better? She distantly recalled Shirou speaking about how it greatly improved a food's taste.
"What are you thinking about lad?" A hand found its way to rustle Artuira's hair. "Although I believe, it's too late to say this, but you shouldn't have come here and instead should have waited patiently back in the care of Mr. David."
Arturia turned her gaze to stare reproachfully at Sir Ector. "I can't do that," she spoke with determination. "How can I remain safe when everyone else is fighting? You, Kay, Shirou, how could you all have just left me?"
Sir Ector frowned before taking a knee to match Arturia's eye level. "Because there are some things worth protecting," he spoke seriously. "Things you couldn't possibly bear to lose even if it meant giving up your life."
She couldn't understand. If there were things Sir Ector couldn't possibly bear to lose, then wasn't it all the more reason she should be there to help him? Two heads are always better than one, and two people would most certainly always be at an advantage.
"I know you don't understand now," Sir Ector spoke as he patted her shoulders. "But you will understand once you find that person most precious to you."
Arturia nodded as she noticed another man walking up to them.
"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting," the other man nodded his head politely to Sir Ector. "My name is Lord Barwheld. Are you the current leader of this regiment?" He asked directly.
Looking around at Sir Anders and some of the other Knights flaunting their new equipment, he sighed before he took charge. "Yes," he spoke regrettably.
Sir Anders should have been the one to handle the situation as leader of the Knights of Wolfred, but he appeared to bus boasting of his skills. Nonetheless, none were more qualified than him at the moment to take command of the situation. "What is it that you need Lord Barwheld?"
Lord Barwheld seemed to pause as his eyes scanned the open military camp. "Where is the young troop commander? I wish to speak with him about certain matters before the day grows too old."
Young troop commander? Arturia listened quietly from the side, watching as Sir Ector furrowed his brows.
"Truth be told," Sir Ector began as he let out a sigh. "I haven't seen him since the end of the battle."
Lord Barwheld revealed a troubled expression, before quickly hiding it. "My troops camp is opposite to yours. I would appreciate it if you would let me know when the young troop commander has arrived, or at least notify him of my visit to arrange a better time. The sun is setting and It won't be long now before we can finally begin to counter this Saxon invasion."
His piece done, Arturia watched as Lord Barwheld slowly walked up towards Efret as if he couldn't believe his eyes. Instantly, she noticed how Efret's gaze too became focused.
She couldn't understand what was going, but she was sure the two must have had some sort of history with each other. But the crux of the matter was that Lord Barwheld had brought up an important factor.
Where was Shirou?
She had expected him to be within the camp just as everyone else had, but opposite to her expectations, he wasn't here. "Sir Ector, where do you think Shirou is?" She asked.
"I don't know child. I don't recall ever seeing him during the celebrations." Sir Ector absently scratched at his head. "I was more focused on dissuading some of the newer recruits from giving chase to the enemy and wasting their stamina. However, it that young lad we're talking about. He's probably alright."
Arturia frowned.
"Now I have a question that's been bothering me," Sir Ector spoke. "Why is Kay running so far away?"
Sir Ector put on a troubled look as he stared at Kay's distant back getting smaller and smaller towards the horizon. "Surely, he knows it will be dark soon, and that he shouldn't stray out too far."
O, he better be far, Arturia smiled pleasantly. "I don't know half of what goes on through his head sometimes," she agreed.
Still, directing her attention away from Kay, she decided that it would be best to look for Shirou. For the same reason, Sir Ector just gave, it wouldn't be safe for Shirou to be alone once night fall came.
Saying a quick goodbye to Sir Ector, she picked up the equivalent of a shoe and placed it on, tired of the dampness beneath her feet. She then promptly left in search of her wayward friend, thankful that he and her family were safe.
The sounds of celebration resounded throughout the camp. It had already been several hours since the end of the battle, and there was still no signs of stopping. It was probably because the odds of winning the battle were already precariously low, only for a miracle to occur and allow them to overtake the situation. Of course, it was a for celebration.
As she ran throughout the camps of all the other Knights and soldiers of other Nobles, she spotted Gerrard sitting alone drinking from a barrel of alcohol. Her nose scrunched up as she neared, prompting her to turn away.
"Hey little runt, wait a bit," Gerrard's voice caused her to pause in her steps.
"Two things," Gerrard spoke as he hiccupped and promptly started laughing.
Already Arturia felt as if she was wasting her time. Looking at the sky, nightfall would soon be coming.
"One," Gerrard spoke as he raised a finger. "Tell little Red he owes me a drink." He took another swig and downed it in one gulp.
Arturia was inwardly debating just leaving lest she somehow get coerced into drinking with this man. In which case, she knew that Gerrard would have to be on the lookout for Sir Ector's ire. Heck, even Kay, the grown-up man that he is, is still enforced by Sir Ector to watch how much he drinks.
"Two," Gerrard raised two fingers up before suddenly becoming solemn. "Tell him I said thank you."
The sudden change in pitch caused her to fall off guard for a moment, but she nodded to his request. She wasn't sure what the man was thanking Shirou about, but she was sure it was something only Shirou could have done.
"Take care runt!" Gerrard spoke as Arturia left.
However, no matter how much she searched within the camp, there no signs of her friend. Suddenly a feeling of trepidation welled from inside her. How many hours had it been since the end of the battle, and still he had yet to appear. Could something have happened? She could clearly picture it. Even in her childhood she could still clearly remember how reckless he was going up against a beast by himself. If something were to have happened, clearly, he would have had recklessly charged in.
After another few minutes of searching amongst the numerous faces within the camp, she was beginning to approach her wit's end.
However,
It was nightfall when her eyes finally spotted a figure in the distance, walking absently near the borders of the camp.
Shirou?
LINE BREAK
He wasn't thinking clearly and he knew it. Walking aimlessly in the moonlight he stared at his own hands and wondered just what it was about them that caused him to constantly grab his swords and continue fighting. What was his purpose other than love for being by Arturias side?
It was the true motive behind the series of questions Merlin had asked him after he had gotten the man to stay a tad longer. He who followed an ideal that could never be achieved, and she who represented an ideal beyond any mortal capabilities. The things that had drawn them together, and made their bonds strong, was fundamentally not the same. She was not yet the woman he knew, proud, regal, upstanding, and may very well not even grow into the same person. Yet even still, she was his motivation.
What were his intentions? What did he hope to achieve? Even now when he thought clearly on the subtle undertones of Merlin's questions, he couldn't come up with a clear response. Planning and caution were secondary for someone like him who does all he could to save the others in front of him.
So, where did that leave his goals?
He shook his head ruefully. There was only ever one goal that he could put his all into to get up every morning and train. Whether if it was to better his understanding, tactics, or even to close his heart to end the enemies in front of him, he could get up the next morning knowing he had done it to keep her safe.
"Shirou. Where the hell have you been!"
A voice snapped him out of his musings.
Arturia approached, a smile on her face that even he couldn't fully trust despite his utmost faith in her.
So, when the blow to his gut came that sent him doubling over, he didn't even think about dodging. He knew she could do far worse based on the experience of her future self. He ended up having far more than just one extra unnecessary bruise whenever their sparing matches would end.
"Well hello to you too," he bit out a response.
"Hello, hunter, or should I call you a traitor?" A gleam appeared in her eyes which made him deftly sure she had been waiting countless days for this moment. "How could you have possibly left without telling me?" She demanded unamused. Her previous frustration of being unable to find him coupling with her anger over his sudden departure.
"Well, obviously, it was t-"
His next words died in his throat as he noticed the injuries over Arturia's arms.
"Just a few cuts and bruises I got on the battlefield," she hurriedly spoke. "It was my fault that I lost my vambraces when Efret fell from the sky."
Some of the wounds that travelled up her arms were still red, others bleeding after any exaggerated movement. Staring at her even now, he could tell that she was doing her best not to wince when her very actions tore a scab.
But what if you yourself were the one she should be wary of?
The best of intentions may not always have the best of consequences.
He clenched his fists. She had come here because of him, Sir Ector, and Kay, of that he had no doubt. Yet wasn't that the same as bringing her to danger? All he had wanted to do was protect her, and now here she was, injured and putting up a front to distract him from the discomfort evident in the minute twitching of her body.
"Shirou?" She called, breaking the silence between them. "Are you alright?"
He didn't answer right away, and instead once again looked at his own hands. The hands that were meant to protect, and hold those precious close were trembling. He didn't want to fail, didn't want to lose her. "It's nothing," he spoke sharply.
She raised a brow in response, but didn't pursue the matter. Instead she spoke of her accomplishments. "Did you see me today? I must have defeated at least ten others."
He nodded. "That's good," he said dismissively, still thinking on the words Merlin had imparted on him.
Arturia frowned, and immediately placed herself in front of Shirou. "Alright, spit it out," she spoke sternly. "I know there's something bothering you. You're acting like Kay ever since he got stuck with the title of the Foul End."
Subconsciously, Shirou's eyes once again drifted to Arturia's wounds.
"This?" She asked, noticing the direction of his gaze. "These are nothing to worry about."
When you yourself are the one bringing her harm.
"That's not the point," he spoke agitated.
"Then what is?" She challenged.
The words escaped his mouth before he could even stop them. "You shouldn't have come here." The words were silent, like daggers that quietly slinked beneath her armour and pierced her directly. The meaning of those words could not be understood any better.
Her mouth opened and closed, unable to perform a response.
Finally, she just stood there, lips trembling, before she pursed them, turned aside her gaze, and began walking off.
"N-No I, wait-!" He called, grabbing her by the arm.
"Let go of me!" She yelled, scowling. "I'm not someone to be protected!"
She tried to pull her arm away, but he persisted, feeling the calluses of her hands as she used them to eventually pry his own off. How much work did she put into her blade?
How many hours of dedication?
The hands that he felt revealed it all to him.
Effort.
Drive.
Motivation.
And the desperation of wanting to catch up to others.
She stared at him, and he at her, neither speaking a word. Who was he to decide her actions? How could his reasoning be swayed by the words of a stranger he had just met?
Even if what was spoken was correct.
Even if he may very well be the one to put her in danger.
Even so, wasn't he the same?
The words he recalled from back then resurfaced in his mind.
In the simple streets of his hometown where his life was inexplicitly tied to the actions of an idealistic King, what was the difference between her and the boy who would charge head first to fight by the King's side?
Truly, it was now readily apparent.
His hands held her close, the soft warmth of her breath traveling down his neck. "Arturia," he spoke her name softly, unable to voice anything else. The gentle inflection of his voice surprising even him.
She pulled back, pushing him away, the distance between them less than a foot, yet still he did not let her go.
Because that earnesty in her eyes was once mirrored by his own.
A desire unable to be into put to words.
But whose meaning could not possibly be miss-interpreted.
The two stared face to face in the dimness of the moonlight. Poets and bards often spoke of the troubles that brew from deep within, but now more than ever, he understood.
The troubles of right and wrong.
The mysteries of looking through one's own emotions.
In the end, there had always only been one answer, one decision.
My sword is your sword, and your sword is mine.
His forehead met hers and his lips moved to speak the words he should have spoken since the beginning.
"Will you fight with me?"
The simplest expression of one's own beliefs.
He felt her shudder, her breath hitching as he spoke the same phrase once more.
A single message to be conveyed.
A single heart felt desire suddenly blossoming within the depths of his own virtue.
"Will you fight with me?"
Stronger now, more assured, he swallowed as goosebumps ran down his arms. He held her tighter, the grip he held on her shoulders matching the grip she had on his own. It was never about being protected, nor about how strong one could be. When two people walk on the same path and experience the same sensations, then wouldn't it be best to experience them together? Shoulder to shoulder, with gazes held fervently to the coming of the morning sun, a light will shine and illuminate the way.
"Together."
A soft breeze blew past in the tenuous silence.
Slowly, clearly, so as to not have any other meaning, a quiet voice resounded.
"Yes."
The simplest expressions often convey the deepest meanings.
He stood there watching her as they broke away from each other.
Captivated by the innocence of a tender smile.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone