章 1709: 22
The trip from Rocks Road to Blackmore is a long, multi-hour one, even with my Blessing passively boosting the speed of the car and our magus chauffeur's willingness to ignore road laws. During the drive, I keep half-expecting something to go wrong, an attempt by the Magus Association trying to remove us or at least test our power. It wouldn't, couldn't, work, not with my blessing that prevented ambushes from succeeding, but I hadn't given the Association anything like a list of my abilities. But nothing.
'Master- might you finally explain the purpose of this trip?'
'Ah. Blackmore village is some kind of multi-generation attempt at reviving the 'once and future king', and your lance should be there.'
'I believe Merlin indicated that Rhongomyniad was not merely a lance, but a permanent fixture of the world that separates the phantasmal from the human. Would it be safe to procure it for our travels?'
Here's a bit of Fate trivia I'm fairly sure I remember.
'Rhon the tower and Rhon the lance are technically different things. The lance is a reflection of the tower on the world, but the tower and the lance can be separated. Like, there's a Servant called Mysterious Heroine XX-'
I feel Artoria scoff at the name and am diplomatic enough not to bring up how MHXX is…well, exactly not someone unrelated to her. In any case, I go on to describe what I remember of XX, keeping her identity a secret, how she travelled between universes with her Rhon and so on.
'Well, I am forced to take you at your word on the issue. It sounds fairly outlandish, but your prior description of the Grand Order seemed similarly implausible, yet you were correct about the demon within that magus' circuits.'
'I will say it isn't just for Rhon, though. The way the village was planning on resurrecting you was to effectively have you possess one of their own- it didn't work, but in my vision the attempt did warp the girl's body to resemble you, which she hated. I want to make sure that didn't happen when I summoned you, and if it did to offer to fix it and restore her to how she was before.'
'They would have had me possess someone? In a manner similar to Ruler and Laeticia?'
I really wish I'd ever gotten around to reading the Case Files and not just consumed the anime and manga. I think Gray's backstory was touched on in more detail there?
'I think something like that, but more permanent- they wanted you back to life properly, not temporarily like with Jeanne. And before you ask, I don't know for sure how or why the village got started. I vaguely recall that it might have been Morgan, feeling remorse after your death, but it isn't something I know for sure.'
'Hm. Well. If it was my sister, I suppose the unfortunate method chosen makes sense.'
-
There's some more back and forth, but by the time the car pulls into Machynlleth we've settled into a comfortable and companiable silence. From Machynlleth, our guide points us to a somewhat concealed path up the mountains. When I see their reluctance to go to Blackmore with us, I let them get back to London while swearing we'll check back in at the Clock Tower before we leave Britain. We would have needed to anyways, just to pick up whatever documents Waver found.
The path turns out to be…well, rustically scenic would be how I would charitably describe it. Uncharitably, it was a winding animal track littered with stones that would blister non-superhuman feet. The cries of ravens and the smell of animal dung and rotten vegetation filled the air, to the point where I decide to disable my scent-identifying-and-enhancing blessing. The path as a whole seemed designed to make visitors go "fuck this" and turn around back into civilization. Neither of us uttered any complaint, but I could feel a certain low level of annoyance at the admittedly minor ordeal. It's then I have a thought.
'Artoria- given your change in appearance, do you think it'd be a good idea to dismiss Invisible Air and show Excalibur?'
She doesn't reply immediately, and we continue on a few steps.
'I suppose it would serve as proof of my identity. Very well, I shall do that.'
The hilt of the sword appears in the gold-blue sheathe at her side. With that, we keep walking up the mountain path until I hear a new sound and smell a new scent. Soft footsteps, lacking any accompanying stick-snapping or leaf rustling, which itself told me the person wasn't a normal muggle. Concentrating in the direction, I also notice a flow of mana. So, a magus of some sort. At once, we stop and turn towards the person, who in turn notices. They don't quicken their advance, but there's less surreptition in their movements now they know they've been noticed and we're waiting for them.
A man in black, old yet muscled, wearing a scruffed jacket with a hat on his unkempt hair emerges from the treeline. On his back, I make out what looks to be the curve of a large, long axe. All in all, his appearance reminds me a lot of a Bloodborne Hunter. His eyes flick between Artoria's face and the hilt of Excalibur, sheathed in Avalon, and there's a moment of utter shock.
"You. Ha. Well then. I can guess what business you have with the village. I'll guide you to the village, as is my duty as it's warden."
Artoria speaks before I can, voice suddenly even more formal and her face an expressionless mask.
"We accept your offer with thanks, sir-?"
"I'm no knight. Just a gravekeeper. Bersac Blackmore at your service, your majesty."
-
Following Bersac, we reach the village quickly- a small series of houses on the top of a hilly plateau, arranged like a Venn-diagram with a church in the middle. Before we enter, Bersac pauses and turns to face us.
"Before you enter, I must tell you the rules of this village and ask you to obey them for however long your stay is to be.
Rule One: Upon entering the village, you must pray at the statue of the Holy Mother in the church.
Rule Two: If you stay the night, you cannot leave your lodging at night.
Rule Three: Do not enter the graveyard alone.
Rule Four: Do not enter the swamp, even accompanied by others.
I recognise I cannot force you, but I still implore you to follow these rules."
Well. That's a strange list. Still, no harm in it, I suppose. I give a nod, while Artoria replies verbally.
"We will do our utmost to obey these rules."
Looking satisfied, Bersac steps to one side and the path to Blackmore is open. I suppose the next step is the church then, its spire visible over the low-lying brick houses of the rest of the village. As we cross the threshold of the village, there's a change in the air and I can feel a number of the villagers I'd been sensing stop in place and turn towards us, even those with buildings blocking their sight of the entry. Those villagers, I marked as ones to watch. Still, our walk to the Church doesn't encounter anybody, as if everyone on the path has fled. We reach the large, wooden doors of the Church, and Bersac steps to one side, apparently not going to follow us in.
Entering the Church, my eyes are first drawn to the large, central statue of Mary, carved out of black stone. She's holding baby Jesus and looking down at him, but…I can't help but feel her gaze is not one of motherly affection. And the rest of her body is posed quite unlike the other depictions of the Virgin Mother I'd seen- far more authoritative and commanding, as if a queen or general, which draws the focus away from the child and to her. From there my eyes sweep the nave; the ceiling is surprisingly tall, solid wood beams curving up to support lit golden chandeliers. The pews are all made of a similar dark wood, and glisten- clearly well-maintained. The pulpit, by contrast, is a small thing out of the way. It seems more like the Church was designed for those in the pews to focus on the statue above all else.
My attention is instantly drawn away by the telepathic 'inhale' of shock from Artoria. She doesn't let herself stop, but I can feel her desire to almost recoil from the statue. Instead, she advances straight towards it, ending her march as close as possible to the statue to peer up past the cowl to get as good a look as possible at the carved stone face.
'Master, this is certainly the work of my sister.'
I'm a little slower to join her, but on doing so and studying the face I can see a resemblance between the woman to my side and the statue.
'This is Morgan, then?'
'Yes. I know not for what purpose she crafted this particular statue, but this is unmistakably her, from face to body language.'
There's a cough behind me, and I turn to see a…fuck, I shouldn't, but I instantly can't help but think of Mr Creosote, at least in body dimensions. He's very…round, and with several chins. Internally I shake myself out of it and focus. He's dressed in a black priest's outfit, and his bald head reflects the light of the chandeliers above him.
"My, it's rare to see new faces here. I'm-"
And then his voice trails off, as Artoria turns around to face him. He catches himself fairly well, but there's a stutter to his speech after seeing her face that wasn't there before.
"I'm Father Fernando, Fernando Croze."
I give a slight nod of acknowledgement.
"I'm Reinhard van Astrea."
"I am…Artoria."
"Artoria, you say…" While his body holds still and his voice levels out, I can see his eyes dart around.
"I see you were inspecting the statue of the Madonna. Do you have any thoughts on it?"
I reply first, as Artoria is still collecting her thoughts
"It certainly makes an impression, I've never seen one like it, and I've been to a couple of churches from all over Europe. Only as a tourist, though."
"I…might I ask how old the statue is? It seems well cared for, but feels ancient."
Artoria's words draw Father Fernando's attention.
"Hmm…I'm not sure exactly, but I believe it to be somewhere around 1500 years old. It's certainly the pride of this Church."
My eyes flick around the Church itself, and Reinhard's intuition tells me that there's no way the Church building itself is that old. Which means the Church, and probably the town itself was built around the statue. I have to suppress a shiver; this scenario seems incredibly creepy, in a sort of low-key horror setting way.
Shortly after, Father Fernando leaves us, saying something about a letter he had to write, and how he didn't want to disturb our prayers. The two of us stay silent for a minute, looking up at the statue of Morgan. Part of me wonders if the baby is supposed to be any of her actual children, or if the child was Jesus but the statue was carved to show her greater importance than even he. Eventually, I close my eyes and make a cross motion with my hands. I don't see Artoria follow suit, but we quietly leave the Church. Only to find…not a mob, but a large group of people, likely around half the total villagers, arrayed outside the Church as if waiting for us, led by a wizened old woman. Bersac is still standing off to one side, and it's clear he hasn't moved at all.
The old woman stumbles forward, tear-filled eyes fixed entirely on Artoria as if nothing else in the world exists apart from her.
"Our King. You- you've returned!"
-
We're very politely hustled into the largest house of the village. It's only the old woman and a tired, blonde woman in a green shawl who enter with us, most of the villagers left behind to stare after Artoria. The old woman wears her emotions on her sleeve- she's shocked and beyond ecstatic to see Artoria, while the emotions of the other woman are more complex. She's happy, also, but not purely because of Artoria' presence. The old woman, who looks to be the leader of the village, shows Artoria to the head of the table, into a grand wooden seat resembling a throne. I take a seat at Artoria's side, and the old woman sits at the foot of the table, below Artoria. The blonde woman doesn't take a seat at all and instead moves deeper into the house, and soon I can hear the sound of an oven. I put that out of my mind and focus on the scene before me.
"Our King. You've returned."
Like a broken record, that's being said. Even my mind reading blessing, finally active against someone with no supernatural defences, is only getting a stream of happiness. Eventually, Artoria raises her hand and the record falls silent.
"I am, thanks to the efforts of the man to my right. If you wish to thank someone for my presence, you should direct your gratitude towards him."
The old lady looks at me for the first time, and with Blessings I can tell that while her expression remains exactly the same, her emotions lose their pure joy and darken.
"Thank you, young man. Might I ask how you accomplished this? I didn't know there were others attempting to do so, let alone having the artifacts required. How did you complete the task without Erosion?"
Hm. How to answer. I suppose I should turn this about, while getting some information-
"Well, I'm not sure how you were planning on doing it. I didn't require any specific artifacts, for example, and don't know what Erosion is?"
My reply seems to make the old lady recoil, and she looks back and forth between Artoria and me repeatedly. Thankfully, Artoria is here to back me up.
"I am also interested in this."
"Of course, my King!" Well, that was a quick 180. "Our duty was to fashion a physical vessel for you, and then allow your mind and soul to inhabit it. If Erosion is plunged into the heart of the vessel, it would be purged of mind and soul, allowing your mind and soul to replace them." Here, she stands and hobbles over to a corner of the room, returning with a cloth-wrapped tube. The cloth unrolls and a shining, curved golden dagger is revealed.
But neither Artoria nor I focus on the blade, but on what this woman had said. I'm about to say something, when Artoria speaks first.
"Elaborate on what you mean by a vessel."
The woman doesn't seem to notice the change in Artoria's tone or body language and is as obliging as ever.
"Magdalena! Come here!"
There's a light sound from the kitchen, the hurried patter of feet and the blonde woman, Magdalena I assume, arrives behind the cult leader. Without turning to face the arrival, a wizened hand is waved in Magdalena's direction.
"The bloodline of this family is responsible for trying to create a vessel."
"Wait, you're the mother of Gray?"
The words leave my mouth before I notice, and while there's no physical reaction from Magdalena my mind-reading catches a burst of sudden, absolute terror from the woman. The fact I know Gray's name has caused her to freak out, even if externally she's just standing there with a pleasant smile. The cult leader, however, only reacts in confusion.
"You know of Gray? It would have been her responsibility to birth the next potential vessel, given how she herself has not shown herself suitable."
This is…worse than I had thought, and I can feel Artoria's emotions roiling. The cult leader doesn't seem to realize how badly the pair of us are taking this, and finally turns back to Magdalena, whose body and face are still a mask of composure.
"Well, what are you still standing there for? You're supposed to be cooking our King's meal!"
And that's when I place the smell from the kitchen. Mashed potatoes. Of course. It'd be funny if it wasn't dark. A village, seemingly built entirely around human sacrifice, all towards a person they had no real knowledge of. I wonder if they even know why they're trying to resurrect her, or if it's just 'the purpose of Blackmore'. In the meantime, Artoria's focus is elsewhere.
"If…that was how the body was to be created, how were you planning to procure my mind and soul?"
"Oh, you would have provided your soul yourself, once the others were prepared. As for the mind, we believed your mind to have been located under the village, in the catacombs."
Artoria's mind? In the catacombs? What? But in this world, she'd never even died! How could her mind be-
"The two of us will visit the catacombs right away to investigate this. You will direct us, and then stay here."
"Of course, my King! There's a secret basement beneath the church-"
-
The trip to the catacombs is conducted in a deathly, chilling silence. The revelation of what the actual plan of Blackmore had sat poorly with the pair of us, and I was unsure of how to broach the topic. We were following the path beneath the church, following a narrow tunnel that had finally begun to widen into a grand room, as if the hill Blackmore was built on was actually a cairn for the true tomb here. And there, in the centre of the room, we see a figure. Or, rather, what looks like a figure. An empty suit of armor, entirely black, that reminds me of the other FGO Artoria Lancer. But just because the suit of armor is empty doesn't stop it rising to meet us as we enter.
"You. Identify yourself at once."/"You. Identify yourself at once."
There's a pause of shock, and then a reply.
"I am Artoria Pendragon"/"I am the Once and Future King."
Though the words don't match, the voices are the same. Oh dear.
Artoria draws her blade, and the Mind of Artoria's hand grasps at nothingness, before pulling forth a black, twisted lance studded with red spikes. Artoria's voice is tight at the sight.
"A false Rhongomyniad-"
"Nay, this Rhongomyniad is true. The light of the tower spreads many shadows, and not all appear the same. I see you have our scabbard."
"I do. Tell me, Mind of mine. How did you conscion the plot above? Sacrificing the innocent to revive yourself?"
There's a hollow laugh as the Mind replies.
"Are you truly King Arthur, to ask such a question? During our rule, did we not sacrifice others time and again for our success?"
The words cause Artoria to recoil, but-
"That's not the same at all."
My voice cuts into the mirrored debate. The Mind's helmet turns towards me, but I keep speaking.
"There's a difference between sacrificing for the good of the people of the kingdom and for yourself. The kingdom is not the king, and Artoria didn't confuse that."
"And who are you to speak? You believe you know better than the Mind of the King?"
"He knows more than you, false Mind."
The helmet turns back to Artoria, who continues.
"Our rule ended, and Camelot fell. By what right do you demand the sacrifice of others for your personal resurrection?"
"I am the once and future King. If sacrifices are required to restore the throne, then sacrifices will be made."
Artoria levels Excalibur at the dark armor, letting out a dark chuckle that I haven't heard her make.
"I understand now. You are no Mind of mine. You are Morgan's understanding of my rule, how I appeared to others. The Mind of the King Who Did Not Know The Hearts Of Man."
The lance levels in response.
"You claim me a false creation, and yourself the true King? We always valued actions above words, so now is the time of proving."
'Artoria-'
'Do not interfere at all, Master. Your words were aid enough.'
-
With those words towards her Master, Artoria turns back to confront her faceless doppelganger. At the very end, at least, the False Mind had been correct- Artoria had placed more value on deed over word, and now was the time to prove it. Artoria pauses for a moment, cutting herself off from her Master's infinite mana and relying instead only on the mana currently in her body, before bursting bursts forwards, Excalibur tracing a brilliant, golden arc between her and her foe. Rhongomyniad catches the strike, but the force sends the black armor careening into one of the walls of the cairn. Even limiting herself as she was, it's clear that the False Mind lacks her Dragon Core and capacity to Mana Burst.
Before the cloud thrown up by the impact can begin to fall, the False King lunges forwards with Rhongomyniad, trying to impale her with the lance. It takes all of a single movement to dodge away, Excalibur cutting down in an arc that bites into the left shoulder of the black armor. The blow does not cleave the arm off in a single cut but does destroy most of the shoulder and pauldron. Instantly, both figures kick out at once, trying to take advantage of the single moment of close contact. Black armor shatters against silver armor, as Artoria's kick overpowers the False Mind and again sends her flying. Armor badly broken in two places, this time the False Mind does not, cannot, charge forward. Instead, Artoria feels mana begin to be drawn into the tip of Rhongomyniad from both the suit of armor, as well as from the village above.
"You intend to use that here? Your subjects lie above you!"
"In warfare, against an overwhelming foe who cannot be defeated conventionally, sacrifices must be made for victory."
She can feel her Master prepare to move- while she had commanded him to act as witness, it seems he was unwilling to let the village above die merely on her orders. Good. But there was no need for that. Artoria calls upon her Dragon Core fully and, in a single action, launches herself at the False Mind, Excalibur held high above her head. The downwards strike, before the False Mind can use its lance, cleaves helm and breastplate head-to-toe. The dark lance falls from now-powerless gauntlets, and the destroyed suit of armor collapses before Artoria.
Artoria looks down on the pile of armor, feeling her Master reach her side, and wonders if the Mind had intentionally forced her hand, when a single clap is heard, from the tunnel we had used to enter this chamber.
-
I wheel, and find a large man with short, blonde hair, wearing a red tie, white gloves and an ornate purple coat with gold embroidery. His eyes are closed, but he seems to realize we're looking at him. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a strange, silver cube that looks like it's bad movie CG, and from it draws a shining, golden spiral lance.
"Rhongomyniad…"
"Yes, this is your lance. You may have it, though might you pass me the other for a moment?"
Eyes locked on her lance, Artoria reaches down and hands the black Rhongomyniad to the man, who in return passes the shining spear to Artoria, before kneeling down and pushing the second Rhongomyniad into the cube. With that done, he stands and faces us.
"Now then. Greetings, King Artoria and the abnormality. This…conversation is a difficult one for me- your presence warps the scripts and makes calculating outcomes hard. Still, it is one that should be had. I wish to inform you that the contract with Blackmore is now concluded- one of the outcomes has been reached, and so I might reclaim our Contract and Logos React. While I was handling the issue of returning property to owners, I felt I should return that lance."
Scripts? Contract? Logos React? Both Artoria and I are lost. At least the man seems to realize this and introduces himself.
"Ah. My name is Zepia Eltnam Atlasia, once known as Oberon. I'm the current director of Atlas."
And now he has my attention; I know Atlas, if only from the superweapon stuff. Time to be polite.
"What can we do for Atlas?"
Zepia's eyes open, and he looks at me.
"Leave this world as soon as possible, please. Your actions and presence make calculating the future of this world difficult, which hinders Atlas' mission to preserve the world. Atlas proper has not yet noticed your effects, but they will when I return with the Contract and the Psuedo-Spiritron Computer Logos React. Once they do, steps will almost certainly be taken to eliminate the interference you are causing."
Interference? Ah- "I could…lower my interference?"
With a thought, I alter my Information and Trace Defences, allowing neutral parties to use those abilities on me. Zepia closes his eyes again, silent for a moment, and then takes a deep breath as if having just saved himself from drowning.
"And the scripts once more flow. I calculate you are trying to be accommodating, but your personal existence still poses a challenge to Atlas. My previous request stands."
"I hadn't been planning on staying that much longer. A few more days at most, and then I'll be gone."
"Then I shall spend a few days here, completing my work, before returning to Atlas. I wish you luck in whatever journey you are on."
-
Despite it drawing close to evening, where the rules of Blackmore should require people to move inside, there's another crowd outside as we leave the church. The sight of Rhongomyniad in Artoria's hand causes such a spike of ecstasy from the cult leader that it seems almost physical. I'd love to just leave this creepy crappy place behind, just head off into the pocket dimension and cleanse myself, but I still haven't confirmed Gray's status yet, and I'd be damned if I left her in this village without giving her the chance for anything else. Thankfully, Artoria agrees that just leaving anyone with these nutters would be utterly unconscionable.
Telepathically, we both try to work out how to steer the conversation to let us meet Gray, when the leader just…volunteers a solution.
"My king! You should stay the night in Magdalena's house. It was created to be your house, after all, and you're more deserving than the failed vessels-"
"I would not dream of displacing them. However, at your insistence I will stay with them."
Which is how we find ourselves in a medium-sized cottage off to the side of to the right of the church. Approaching the house, with Magdalena acting as guide, I feel Artoria' steps almost-imperceptibly slow as she gets a better look at the building.
'Morgan…'
'Something wrong?'
As we communicate, Magdalena opens the door for us and Artoria gets a glimpse inside.
'Unfortunately, I was not mistaken. This house is a replica of the building I spent the first five years of my life in, before I was taken in by Sir Ector.'
As I feel Artoria push herself through this creepy live-museum-cum-ceremonial-altar, I turn to our host.
"I'm sorry about this; you and Gray shouldn't put yourselves out on my account."
"As you say, Sir."
When I again mention Gray, there's another burst of fear from the woman before me, but her face is a perfect mask that shows not one jot of it.
"I need to clear something up- neither of us are here to do anything to you or your daughter, so there's no need to worry."
"What do you mean, Sir? Anything King Arthur would wish done would-"
I rub my face- everything about this trip and the village is wearing on me, and it's certainly a dozen times worse for Artoria.
"I can tell you're worried about Gray. Whenever I mention her, I can feel you tense up."
There's a large central table with a few chairs around it, and I gesture to one. Our host, moving carefully and both never raising her eyes to mine while also never taking her eyes off me, sits.
"I…knew something of what the village was doing here with your family, but I didn't know the full details until just now. I'll say right now that that's over. There'll be no more sacrificing anyone."
Artoria moves to sit next to me, across from Magdalena.
"Indeed. I must state that I had no knowledge at all of this village or it's custom, and heartily disapprove of this plot by my sister to revive me. I have no right to your child's life, nor have I ever had the right to the life of anyone else in your family line."
There's silence, as she finally raises her eyes and looks at our faces, glancing between us in silence. I feel a flicker of hope from her, and move to-
"-Mother? Do we have guests?"
And the faint flame of hope is replaced by a raging inferno of sudden panic, something that for the first time pierces her mask and reaches her face.
In the door of the house is a…completely unfamiliar girl, with gray hair. If I squint, I could see a resemblance between the girl in the doorway and Artoria's Saberface, but it'd be a stretch, and there's even less resemblance between her face and Artoria's current, older features. Gray, I assume, gets a better look at the pair of us and there's a sudden intake of breath as she drops to her knees.
"Your Majesty!"
"Please stand. You are not my subject, nor am I a King any longer."
"Oh. I'm sorry, your m-."
"You may simply call me Artoria. And this is Reinhard, my…benefactor."
Gray, having stood, nods quickly to both me and Artoria. As she does this, Magdalena stands from her chair and, mask once more in place, smiles at Gray.
"Did you enjoy your time with Bersac, Gray?"
"Oh yes, Mother! We trained, and when he had to leave he let me keep reading some of his detective books."
"I'm glad to hear that. Now, we have important guests, so clean yourself up and get ready for dinner."
"Of course!"
Despite her prompt reply, Gray can't seem to help throwing repeated glances at the pair of us, even as her mother gently but insistently shows her out of the dining room. When Gray leaves, she waits a moment, listening for something, before turning back to us.
"If what you said before was true, why did you want to see Gray?"
"Right. Gray is, was, basically a perfect vessel if the plan had worked. The process would have begun forcefully morphing Gray's body into a copy of Artoria's. I didn't know if that had happened, but if it had I was planning on offering to restore her original body. As-is, that isn't necessary, but I still felt I should let her- let you know that your 'duty' is over. If you want to-" and I almost say 'escape' "-leave this village I was going to offer my help."
Artoria speaks, backing me up.
"Reinhard speaks the truth. Our intent behind meeting Gray was merely to attempt to redress any harm that my existence might have, no matter how inadvertently, caused her and you."
Something about my words seems to have caught Magdalena's attention, and she's about to say something in reply when there's a noise from the door behind her. Gray must be down, having missed or ignored Magdalena's attempted message of 'please stay away for a while.' Sure enough, the door opens and Gray's head emerges from behind the door.
"Mother, do you need my help with dinner?"
Magdalena's about to say something, but I speak up.
"Actually, given we're imposing on you, do you want me to cook?"
-
With some support from Artoria, I do wind up cooking alongside Magdalena, while Gray chats with Artoria, asking her all sorts of questions both about her life as well as the world outside the village. Artoria's limited experience of the later- only her time in Romania and her very brief ride through London, leave me occasionally interjecting, but Reinhard's skill and my perks allow me to multitask my way into a perfect meal with no potatoes in sight, which doesn't attract any comments but does draw Magdalena's attention.
During dinner, with some prodding Gray talks a little about herself- she's apprenticing as a gravekeeper under Bersac, though she claims she's not very good and is afraid of spirits. She does go into some detail about things she likes, and when I find she's a fairplay mystery fan I entertain her with some mystery scenarios that I'll fully admit to plagiarising from Umineko, including the good old 'six closed rooms within a larger closed circuit' mystery. All in all, it's a shockingly pleasant break that lets me forget the circumstances of the village around us.
Eventually, though, it's time for bed. As neither Artoria nor I need to sleep any more, we outright refuse the master bedroom, instead taking a smaller room to the side of the dining hall. After saying goodnight to our hosts I enter the room to find, instead of Artoria, an open portal back to the pocket beach and mansion. Closing the door behind me, I step through the portal and find myself on the white sand of the beach, the mansion several kilometres behind, with a forest between beach and the ominous black tower Semiramis had placed at the centre of the mansion.
Despite it being 'night-time' in the portal-world, attuned as it was to my sense of time, spotting Artoria is easy; she was standing on top the water just past the white line of the shore, her blue uniform having been replaced by her blue leotard and silver armor. My own water-walking lets me join her on the waves and we spend several silent moments looking out over the dark waves as they flow past us and wash ashore.
Finally, Artoria's voice breaks the silence.
"I find it amusing that my efforts to escape that house brought me here. That house, in my hometown, was built on the top of a white cliff. On windy days, the sea roared, and the foam bristled like the white manes of galloping horses throwing themselves ashore. You could gaze from that cliff to the distant coast, shrouded in mist. I suppose that that vista something that not even Morgan could have subtly replicated."
"Do you miss it?"
A small, sad chuckle.
"Had you asked mere hours ago, I would have said yes. I would have described how, because of the vista I grew I with, I dreamt of a time of peace where I could freely visit foreign countries; the golden plains of Gaul, the green hills of Hiberina or even visited Rome as a guest and traveler. But right now, I do not believe I could stand the sight of that house."
Artoria's voice gradually rises as she says that last sentence, going from calmly sad to angry.
"Morgan took that memory and twisted it in her…desecration of all I stood for. And I am unable to grasp her purpose! Was it an earnest apology of sorts for masterminding my end, twisted through her own beliefs? Was it a final attempt at harming me after I had supposedly passed away, forcing me into the body of a murdered child?"
She's turned to me, eyes flashing in fury.
"And not just Morgan! The inhabitants of the village believed with all their hearts that they were supporting me, that I would appreciate and approve the sacrifice of an innocent to regain a life and title I had come to terms with having lost. I had hoped that at least my tale would serve as a guidestone of sorts, but to find people who believe that of me is…both infuriating and distressing."
She trails off, looking away from me and kicking at an incoming wave in frustration, parting it around her foot, leaving me to try and fill the silence.
"I'm sorry about this. I didn't think this would be more than a trip to pick up the lance and check in on Gray, and it wound up-"
Artoria doesn't look at me but shakes her head as she interrupts.
"No. Far better I know this and the practice comes to a halt than I remain in blissful ignorance and it continued in perpetuity. This is the best result that could have been achieved. I apologise if my emotions have overwhelmed me and-"
"Nope. You have nothing to be sorry about there. Having feelings about this is to be expected; anyone would, should, react poorly to finding out something like this."
Another moment spent looking out over the water, which gives me an idea.
"I have an idea that could take your mind off that, if only for a bit, if you'd like?"
Artoria doesn't vocally respond, but she does turn towards me, acknowledging my words with a quirked eyebrow, which I take as a sign to continue.
"You haven't been able to really enjoy the beach so far- our time here was spent training back on land, so if you'd like I could try teaching you how to swim."
"I…daresay that is a skill I have not mastered, thanks to my blessing. And a challenge would be an effective distraction."
"And also you'd want to do it in private, so as to not let Morderd know you can't, right?"
There's a glower.
"You are intentionally teasing me to distract me. While I appreciate the attempt, I command you cease immediately."
I wipe the small smile from my face and nod once. Even if the attempt was noticed, she seems to be less gloomy than before.
"Right, well the first step would be to get into the water."
With a thought, I cancel my Blessing but, as my feet begin to break the surface, I realise that I'd missed a step. Mid-fall, my Shroud-clothing twists, transforming out of Reinhard's white suit and into a pair of swim trunks. From the splashing sound next to me, I assume Artoria also just disabled her blessing and-
And there's a single burbled sound of panic, and a rush of water as Artoria reactivates her blessing and launches herself from the water like a kickboard that's been held underwater before being released. Her bare feet land back on the once-again solid water surface, and she begins to say something, but what words she is saying go in one ear out the other as I look up from her feet and see her body.
Gone is both the silver-blue armor or the blue uniform. Instead, her shroud-clothing has transformed into a blue and gold one-piece swimsuit. While I can understand that it's technically more than what she wears beneath her armor, lacking the cleavage-cutout she normally had, the sight is still…something.
"Master! I had ordered you to cease teasing, and yet you attempt to trick me mere moments later- the human body does not, cannot belong under water!"
I manage to pull my gaze to her face, and just tilt my head, as I keep bobbing in place. When she makes no more moves to try again, I let out a small sigh and, reactivating my blessing, let myself drift up to the top of the water.
"People swim all the time."
"The ocean is dangerous. Humans should not traverse the sea! Had I known my expedition to Rome put my soldiers at such risk, I would have- I was so assured of my own safety that I failed to consider my followers!"
Despite her serious tone, I still can't quite concentrate on what she's saying. Eventually, she seems to catch my…distraction.
"Master? Is something wrong."
I can't help myself. I bend down and, before Saber can react, once more bring my lips to rest against hers. Through her lips, I feel a sudden, shocked intake of breath, but then the kiss deepens, as her arms reach behind me and pull me closer. Unfortunately, we do eventually break apart if only for air.
"Ah. I was wondering if your courtship would continue."
"Do you have any idea how hot you are right now?"
Artoria looks down at herself, and I can make out a faint chuckle.
"I suppose that I would have developed the appeal of a mature and attractive adult."
I move to kiss Artoria again, and this time she's ready, stepping into it. Our arms wrap around and pull each other closer. As our tongues dance, I can feel her breasts push against me, separated only by that thin layer of fabric that makes up her leotard-swimsuit. As her fingers trail against my back, my left hand plays with her wet, golden hair on the back of her head while my right hand slips its way around her shoulders and winds up underneath the swimsuit. My fingers circling her shoulder blades cause her breath to quicken and her tongue to momentarily pause. The pause makes me pull my head back, though my hands remain where they are.
"Artoria. If this keeps up, I won't be able to stop."
Despite the scarlet colouring her cheeks, one of Artoria's hands trails up behind my head and, resting on my cheek, pulls my head back towards hers.
Well then. With a thought, I make a single very minor purchase even as I let myself be drawn back.
...
-
Semiramis leans back in the throne from the top of her tower, one hand casually holding a glass of deep red wine. With her Master's ability to conjure whatever mundane food he desired, provided it was to be consumed in his dimension, acquiring even a bottle of Romanée-Conti 1945 had been a simple matter. So simple, in fact, that the ease had dulled the taste on the Queen's tongue- it was hard to appreciate the taste of wealth if it could be acquired with a mere thought.
With her other hand, Semiramis waves away the magic window she had been looking through, even as their Master and King Artoria begin to couple for a fourth time. It seems even the one known as King Arthur, the King of Knights, was in the end a simple woman, unable to resist the advances of a mere man. The most famous monarch of all, whose name dwarfed even Semiramis', was in actuality a weak fool, content to reduce herself to the toy of a man. And her master, succumbing to his primal urges like a beast.
Still, at least this opened up the first potential vulnerability she had seen in her Master. With his immunity to her poisons and magics, as well as his absurd physical prowess and limitless resurrection, it had been her priority to find even a single point of weakness to leverage. And here she had it, the most obvious weak point of all. Her master was a man with the urges of a man, able to be enthralled by beautiful bodies, honeyed words and seductive smiles.
The next sip of her wine tastes a little better than it had before.
-
Past the beach, into the woods that cut off the sands and ocean from the main body of the land, another Servant is also present. Atalanta had felt the return of her Master and Artoria and had left the Grail to Jeanne for a moment to greet them. However, rather than doing so instead the Archer is crouched low in the underbrush, designed according to the Archer's own specifications by her Master, unable to tear her eyes away from the surface of the ocean.
Atalanta was hardly an innocent, blushing virgin; despite her wishes she had not only married, but also slept with that cowardly man. Still, as her eyes trace both tangling forms, she feels strange warmth within her, near the strange mark that had formed on her stomach. At the same time, the bestial instinct that had become part of her since she donned the Pelt begins to purr, and she can't help but wonder if, after her Wish is made, both would be willing to honestly race her.
Notes:
Point of trivia regarding Blackmore's location. As of Case Files 6, we know that it's a five-hour bus trip from Cardiff, followed by a long mountain walk from the bus stop. Machynlleth is about a five hour bus ride from Cardiff (4 hrs Cardiff-Newtown, 1 hr Newtown-Machynlleth specifically), and is very near the Snowdonia mountain range. With that, I decided to locate Blackmore in the Snowdonia range, NE of Machynlleth and SW of Abergynolwyn. Not actually important, but if people wanted geography trivia there it is. I did similar work 'locating' Trifas, so in a way random geography trivia can serve as bookends to this story.
The precise details about the Corpse King are a mystery, as Magdalena pulls a heroic sacrifice to punk it offscreen in the canon timelines. What we do see of it, though, indicates it's a less-than-perfect copy of Artoria's mind; see it failing to recognise Kay (and also, you know, the intended sacrifice of an innocent- and while FSN Artoria was actually ok with killing youngish combatants in Rin and Illya, she was also very clear about her stance on sacrificing uninvolved innocents, which was "you better have enough Command Seals in stock": "I can only do those things I will allow myself to do. I cannot betray my beliefs. It is against the knight's oath to hurt those who are unarmed. But I must obey if you order so. In that case, you will have to use one of your Command Spells to compensate for treading inside me."). In this world, Morgan had even less to work with, thanks to Artoria being Yoinked from Camlann, and so this Corpse King's mental pattern is explicitly only based on how Morgan understood Artoria, which was distorted twice over- through the Kingly mask Artoria wore, as well as Morgan's own 'understanding' (read: hangups) of what 'being King' meant. As such, it loses both the ideological and physical fights to Artoria with ease.
As a (belated- it was timely when I was writing) birthday present, Gray gets to avoid a life of dysphoria and while Add is currently dormant, Gray is still Bersac's apprentice and his Crest is the key to Add. Despite Artoria getting Rhon, Add does still contain a Rhon (thanks, Zepia) and Gray's future is a lot freer with the purpose of Blackmore Village being made redundant, so in the future of this world Gray-Wielding-Add could still happen, just with less body horror and awful creepy cult backstory. Rein won't be around for it, though, as Zepia adds another 'hey, get a move on' timer to the story to make sure I finish this world up and don't drag it out longer.
As for the last scene(s), the romantic development was certainly even more self-indulgent than usual (and this is a power-fantasy SI fic!), but I wrote that around my birthday so w/e. It's my power-fantasy SI fic I can do what I want. Artoria's reaction to swimming was mostly drawn from FHA, and some of her lines were from her Ruler FGO version, while Semiramis' section is based on her…views towards men and women as detailed in Apocrypha vol 3 ("All women deserved her hatred – for they were weak and could not help being toyed with by men, and not even goddesses would receive her mercy. All men deserved her contempt – for they were brutes of primal urges who degrade women, and whose only merit was being made playthings of by her."). As for the scene itself, QQ has a more lewd version but it is my first attempt at writing anything of the sort so it's probably not the best.
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