章節 71: Chapter 71
Boundary Theory.
It was a theory of magic and dimensions that related the concept of borders between worlds and their applications. Said borders could be created by set boundaries that contain different properties than those exhibited naturally by Gaia such as Bounded Fields. The area within bounded fields generally fall under the influence of the creator who use their bounded fields to safeguard their workshop held within.
It was a fairly simple aspect about the application of Boundary Theory, however that wasn't all that there was to it. Different worlds existed within the same plane of time such as the Earth and a metaphysical layer known as the Reverse Side. The boundary between the two was another area of research predominated by pre-existing bridges that acted as safe guards, fastening the planet together.
The Anchors.
Rhongomyniad, the Spear that Shines at the ends of the Earth.
The Ashton Tower, the flame that burns at the World's End.
So long as the Anchors existed, the Age of Man and the dwindling Age of Gods would one day separate in a couple of years time.
Shirou sighed while waiting for the magus in charge of the archives to return with the related study material. He had many things to think about, the first of which now focused on Morgan's intentions.
What reason did she have to study Boundary Theory unless she was developing an interest in the Reverse Side?
What was she planning?
He frowned heavily; his expression somewhat subdued.
Regarding the topic of Mordred, it didn't matter if he suspected Morgan of foul play. Compared to how long he had known Mordred, he understood that it was basically nothing compared to Morgan.
The deterrence level was already miles apart.
This deterrence was known as influence.
If one was oppressed and tormented for most of their life, it would never be easy to overcome the inherent fear of the oppressor. It didn't matter how strong the oppressed became, in their eyes, they would always be weak in front of their persecutors.
Any resistance and aid that Mordred could desperately attempt to muster would ultimately prove futile if Mordred herself believed that he was powerless to do anything.
Was the strength that he had revealed in front of Mordred still not adequate enough?
His teeth clenched in frustration.
How much more would she need to be convinced?
This was hard. There was no guarantee at all that even if he revealed his full hand that Mordred would confide with him. In fact, knowing her, she'd probably think something stupid like it was her own problem to solve. In which case, that reasoning hit him too close to home.
It was just like Saber.
A woman pretending to be a man in order to save the country on her own while never knowing a single concept. The state of the country was never hers alone to bear. One need only look around to see the people willing to reach out.
Head strong fools the both of them.
Just because you're capable doesn't mean that one shouldn't ask for any help.
He was honestly sick of it, but it would be too hypocritical of him to call them out on it. He himself was the same. Given a problem that he was certain was caused by himself, he'd definitely attempt to solve it on his own. He wouldn't want to get others dragged into danger at his expense.
Suddenly he realized just where the root of the problem was.
His expression darkened, his arms crossing in front of his chest while he leaned his back against a wall.
He, Arturia, Mordred, they were all similar in their own ways, but this was surely the prime reason.
They cared too much.
Worse, they were all stubborn bastards. Capable stubborn bastards, and that meant that they were even less likely to reach out for aid.
Recalling how protective Mordred was of him during their time together, everything seemed to click in his mind.
His lips thinned, a finger idly tapping on his forearm and rapidly increasing in pace due to his falling mood.
The problem just got a lot more complicated, and as he was now, he didn't know what to do because it was the same as admitting that he himself may have to reflect on his actions. No more flying solo. It was better to talk difficulties out rather than trudging through on his own. However, could he really do that?
If it involved endangering his friends and loved ones, the answer was definitely a firm, no.
He scratched the top of his head in frustration. At first, he was getting annoyed at Mordred's actions only to realize that she was basically mirroring his own when a fully capable Arturia had wanted to help him in their adolescence.
Well fuck.
Was this what Rin and the others in his past life felt like when he had constantly refused their aid as to not trouble them?
It was a pretty damn bitter feeling.
Then what exactly was he supposed to do?
The answer eluded him.
At this point, he'd probably just have to think about it later. At the very least, he wanted to try doing his best to convince Mordred first, and when that failed to work, he swore that he'd come up with something.
In the meantime, the magus in charge of the Mage Associations archives had returned.
"Here," the magus walked up to him and gave him the relevant tomes and parchments related to Boundary Theory. "Remember, if you plan to do anything to mess with Morgan, be sure to contact House Archibald."
Said tomes and parchments should help him to better understand the workings of the Ashton Anchor in his Reality Marble, but as of the moment, he was no longer in the mood. Instead, he thanked the magus curtly and went on his way.
He didn't pry into the matter of what Morgan had done to get on the bad side of a member of House Archibald, but the man treated him friendlier due to a mutual enemy.
Honestly, he had a hunch that Morgan had probably sided with the Archibald family's rival house, the Trambelios, on some important matter to garner the animosity of the Archibald.
He shrugged.
It wasn't his problem regarding the political intricacies of the Mages Association, and for that matter, it was probably for the best.
The Mages Association was old. It was first established several hundred years ago and its history and deeply engrained traditions were not something that could easily be changed. At least for him, it wasn't possible. However, that didn't mean that he couldn't change anything.
His aid to House Barthomeloi would not be without a few conditions that he'd yet to discuss with them, namely to limit the participation of magi in the current matters of Britain.
He was going to marry Arturia, and the happiness of his family would depend on the prosperity of the land. Magi weren't known to be the most compassionate or moral of people. In fact, a majority could be considered unstable in modern society. This meant to say, that he preferred them to not get involved.
What he wanted to do by aiding house Barthomeloi was not only to help Emily, but to restrain the unethical tendency of most magi.
Different from before when Merlin had first taken him to see a Mages Association gathering, he wanted to make a bigger impact. Having the help of one of the future Clock Tower's strongest families had a lot of weight in the long run. In the short run however, it may be minimal at most, but he was fine with that.
What mattered right now was to sort out his own matters before looking at the bigger picture.
With the Boundary Theory materials in hand, he made his way back to where Mordred and Arturia were waiting for him within the small cottage provided as accommodation.
Reaching a hand out, he slowly turned the wooden knob of the door and pushed the door open.
Looking inside, he saw both Arturia and Mordred seated next to each other; all conversation between them coming to an abrupt halt.
Silence stretched on in the room before red began to creep up Mordred's face, her complexion flushing from embarrassment. She was trying to escape the grip that Arturia had around her shoulders but Arturia's grasp was too firm.
Upon seeing him, Arturia had just shut down her cognitive processes.
From the looks of things, Arturia hadn't expected him to come back so soon and was appalled that her current actions had been seen. Unlike Mordred, Arturia had had many years to hone her facial features. She was expressionless, but the stiffness of her body was giving her away.
No matter what Mordred did to try and get out of Arturia's hold, it was impossible until Arturia finally collected herself and voluntarily let go as if she'd been burned.
"That wasn't what it looked like," Arturia reasoned in monotone. "I was just thanking her for a certain matter."
"…" Mordred wasn't saying anything, but she did nod her head.
Scrutinizing the two of them, he was inwardly relieved that they were at least starting to mend their relationship. Of course, the two were probably too embarrassed at him walking in on them to really admit to anything.
He chose not to bring up the matter and instead just discreetly nodded in Arturia's direction. She seemed to have had accomplished what she had wanted to do which was good for her. It was definitely another weight off of her shoulders.
Caught up in his musings, he balked when Mordred promptly moved to the opposite side of the room and looked at him as if seeking comfort. Arturia's gaze soon followed.
He was feeling just a little bit depressed at the moment.
And so, it begins again.
Night had already fallen on his way back and really the only thing left to do was sleep.
He was tired too after the days revelations and just wanted to rest.
"You have got to be kidding me," his exasperation escaped his mouth.
Neither of the two strayed from his gaze.
Stubbornness must have had been an inherent trait in the Pendragon family because neither of them backed down.
His mouth shut tight.
He had no time for this right now.
Instead, he was just going to be the bigger man.
In the silence, the two stared at him in shock as he took all of the beds and pushed them together at one part of the room. Thereafter, before they could voice any questions at all, he wrapped an arm around each of them and pulled them to lie on the same bed.
"Problem solved." He said flatly, face pressed into a feather pillow. "Good night."
"H-Hold on a minute you can't just-"
He tossed a pillow over Mordred's face, muffling her protest.
"I just did." He replied.
On his left side, Arturia let out a long breath. "Fine. I suppose that this will do," she relented while turning over to her side and wrapping an arm around him. Her head nuzzled itself near the groove of his shoulder where she pressed her left cheek.
Mordred stared at Arturia's intimate action and swallowed nervously, but she couldn't bring herself to mirror them. Instead, she turned her back with an unresigned huff that Arturia directly ignored.
"Did you find what you needed?" Arturia asked him after yawning softly.
He nodded. "More or less. I'm just a little bit tired right now."
"Mmh," Arturia hummed. "Then go and get some rest." She paused before speaking in a strained voice. "You too Mordred."
"G'night," he replied back fondly.
To his right, he could have had sworn that he had heard Mordred mutter the softest reply of 'you too,' but it was largely drowned out by shuffling bedsheets. Mordred must have had been embarrassed. The tips of her ears were red.
He closed his eyes and just let himself drift.
Seconds passed, followed by minutes, maybe an hour? He didn't know.
Rather than physical exhaustion, what tired him out was more on the mental aspect.
If he tried just a bit harder, he was certain that he could fall asleep right at this very moment. However, he didn't do so. Instead, he carefully turned his head to look in Mordred's direction.
In her restlessness, she 'somehow' ended up wrapping his right arm over her shoulders. Whether or not she was actually sleeping, he wasn't certain. It wasn't like it mattered much to him anyway.
He had decided that he'd at least try to convince her to ask for his help, and that was exactly what he was going to do. The following days would definitely be busy and would take up a majority of his attention. Therefore, now just might be the most opportune moment.
"Hey Mordred," he called out to her in a voice barely above a whisper.
It was the middle of the night and he wasn't expecting her to be awake, but he felt her stiffen a bit from beneath his right arm. So then, why was she pretending to be asleep?
He could literally see Mordred pressing her eyes shut and feigning ignorance.
Well, it didn't matter. It wasn't like he was going to call her out on it. He just needed her to listen.
"I don't know whether or not you're asleep, but just hear me out alright?" He put strength around his arm and used it to hug her lightly. "I know that you're trying to hide some sort of problem from me and everyone else around you. Trust me. I know."
Silence was his only response.
He didn't care.
He just pressed onward.
"Is it Morgan?" The question was met by an abrupt response.
Something about Mordred just seemed to shrink, a tremble spreading through her body before her muscles just locked up in place. She shivered, the blanket covering her doing little to provide any warmth.
Mordred didn't verify his question, but he already got his answer.
Inwardly he was furious.
From the beginning, the real enemy had never been Mordred who had killed Saber, but Morgan who had manipulated all the events from the shadows.
Mordred wasn't the only one who reacted to Morgan's name, Arturia had too.
The arm that Arturia was using to hug him and snuggle herself closer to him abruptly tightened. From the corner of his eyes, he could see her blinking up at him pensively.
If there was anyone that Arturia feared or was weary of, it was only Morgan who had once taken him away from her.
Arturia had definitely been listening from the start. However, she just wasn't making a noise because her present relationship with Mordred may not have had reached an adequate level yet. Perhaps after the talk that Arturia had had with Mordred, they'd progressed from awkward silence to acquaintances?
He could only hope for the best at this point.
Mordred was technically Arturia's niece so family should get along, right?
Well, mostly.
He wasn't considering Morgan.
Jealousy and envy were sins that ran deep and could fundamentally change the very nature of an individual, making their personalities warped and ugly.
Using his free arm, he wrapped a hand over Arturia's own and squeezed it reassuringly. He would never leave her. Not again.
Everything would be alright.
He took a moment to reassure Arturia before turning his attention back to Mordred.
"If you ever need help, you have to remember that there are people around you who care and will help," he said strongly. "Sir William, Sir Ector, Merlin, Lancelot, Tristan, myself, and even Arturia. If you asked, any one of us would take action on your behalf."
He paused while looking at the moonlight that filtered into the room through a window. Mordred didn't have to be the only light trying to illuminate the dark of her own anxieties.
"If you're worried about inconveniencing me, then don't. You're wrong."
He reached with his right arm in order to fully wrap it around Mordred and pull her in closer. He was trying to convey the depth of his sentiments.
"I'm strong Mordred," he hugged her a little tighter with his right arm. Not too much to hurt, but more than enough for her to feel it. "Very strong. I won't let Morgan have her way with you. I promise."
He sighed while relaxing into a better sleeping position.
He didn't speak again, his eyes shutting to welcome a blissful world of sleep.
Arturia was much the same, if just a tad bit clingier after Morgan's name was mentioned.
In Mordred's case, her eyes opened wide with doubt, her eye-lids somewhat puffy.
Her expression was a mixture of hopeful, anxious, and hesitant.
She pursed her lips.
She didn't know what it was that she should do anymore.
Emily had returned to the residency of the main family of House Barthomeloi. It was already late in the evening, but that didn't mean that the residents of the Mages Association were inactive. There was a reason why the realm of the supernatural was known as the Moon-lit world. Most magi were still active late into the night, and house Barthomeloi was no different. In fact, it was busier tonight than it had ever been before.
Inside, the house was a flurry of activity.
The preliminary selection of the Lord's Gathering would be occurring in less than an hour and the elder sent to assess Shirou's worth had returned with news that shook the core of the family.
Rather than bring along some no name magus like a majority of her family had assumed, her help came in the form of a far-reaching relationship with a person of unparalleled status.
A practitioner of a True Magic.
A Magician.
Better yet, one who was assumed to have had descended from the mysterious line of the First Magic.
The elders and main family members were arguing.
House Barthomeloi did not have just a single heir which could inherent the family crest but several. Including herself, there were four others in the crowd of the main family that were participating for the same future position.
All of them were her half siblings.
Oliver Redus Barthomeloi, the eldest by two years and the previously favoured heir.
Florence Barthomeloi, the second son.
And Luna Barthomeloi, the youngest sibling.
Each potential heir had their own backers in the form of the Barthomeloi family's internal members and close associates.
In her case, since she was brought into the family late, her support wasn't as well established if any. Moreover, since her mother was considered to be an outcast, she never possessed much favorablity with the other members of House Barthomeloi.
Regardless, she had still been fine. What she didn't have in support, she had instead in reserves.
House Barthomeloi of the Blue Blood.
It was a lineage of magi that possessed superior magical reserves than any other lineage on the planet. If a hypothetical magus only had access to a hundred units of magical energy, then a single member from house Barthomeloi could possess a full thousand or more.
There was just no contesting House Barthomeloi's dominance in this field, and she was at its forefront in the younger generation.
To House Barthomeloi, capability stood above all, and this was why Emily was considered the most likely candidate for heir despite having little support in the main family.
Still, competition begets competence.
Unlike other magi households who practice the killing or disownment of secondary children for the family's stability, house Barthomeloi would not readily kill its own. Their blood and bodies were too precious to be simply discarded or handed over to the hands of other magi. In which case, when more than one child with potential was born in the family, only the best would inherent the family crest.
"This isn't fair!" A woman's voice echoed out through the main family's halls.
"Exactly."
"This can't even be considered a competition!"
Judging the voices for who they were, Emily was quick to conclude their identities.
They were the mothers of her competitors.
Where before they had largely remained silent due to the overwhelming internal support her half-siblings had, now they could not keep quiet any longer.
The one thing that she had always lacked was a solid base of support. What better support could she have had ever asked for if not a Magician which holds a special class in the moonlit world?
In truth, she was inwardly still in shock. She had known that Shirou was a competent magus since their childhood, but she'd never imagined that rather than magecraft, what he was using was True Magic instead.
This was the best news that she'd heard in a while in her time as 'Lady Barthomeloi.'
Similarly, it was tragic news for her competitors.
Walking quietly, she paused as she arrived in the main room and overheard what one of her elder family members was insisting on.
A Sealing Designation?
Her expression shifted into one of ridicule.
Ridiculous.
One does not lightly place a Sealing Designation on a True Magician unless one wished to create an enemy that they could not hope to defeat easily. It would be an honest nightmare, and she could see that many of the upper ranked members of House Barthomeloi were not amused with the suggestion.
Would any Magus family dare to place a Sealing Designation on Zelretch the Wizard Marshal, owner of the Kaleidoscope?
Absolutely not.
So why would they go out of their way to petition for a user of the mysterious First Magic to be assigned a Sealing Designation?
Fools.
Emily would not waste her time on them. In the first place, her only intention by returning to the main house was to acquire a few items in her room before leaving. Before Shirou had agreed to aid her, she'd already been working on an aspect of wind magic and an Almighty attribute.
The Barthomeloi family was already guaranteed a place in the Lord's Gathering. The only real point of going to the selection was deciding on which heir would represent House Barthomeloi. This was where she had planned to reveal her own line of magecraft, the fruits of her labour. Coupled with the fact that she possessed the largest quantity of Noble Magic Circuits in her body to date, she'd already had some confidence with herself. With Shirou's support, it was all but guaranteed.
Still, she'd have to watch out for the movements of others.
By the time that she reached her room, it was to see a familiar woman.
Latricia Barthomeloi, her aunt and the woman who'd scouted her out in the town of Roan. They had a stiff sort of relationship, but despite how strict Latricia was on her, the genuine concern that Latricia had for her was real. Apparently, her mother and Latricia had once been fairly close as siblings, but that was all that she knew. She never pried too deeply into the matter since she didn't want to draw the attention of others to her mother.
Upon seeing her, Latricia straightened her back and briskly walked towards her.
"Was it him?" Latricia asked cryptically.
Evidently, she'd heard the news of Emily's support.
Emily nodded strongly. "Yes," she admitted. "He even provided me a few other things to help out."
A rare grin made its way onto her aunt's face before it soon disappeared. She coughed into her hand and assumed a more reserved disposition.
"Do not forget to carry the pride of Barthomeloi."
Right.
Emily nodded, but didn't say much else. She'd learned early on that no one in house Barthomeloi including her aunt was very talkative on any subject other than the greatness of the family.
Entering her room, she soon took her things and went on her way.
The time of the preliminary selection of the Lord's Gathering was fast approaching and she needed to win.
The position of heir didn't exactly matter to her very much.
What truly mattered was being able to lead the family and dictate its rules.
She knew that her family had a general disdain for the mundane magi and people in general. This meant that the discrimination towards her and her mother would only continue in the hands of her other competitors.
She refused to let that happen.
Besides, as the next heir she'd have the ability to strive for a better future. One where she'd be able to actively help her friends and allies like the Wizard Merlin.
This was her conviction.
Her pride as a Barthomeloi.
Sharpness entered her gaze, her expression cooling off into one of stern determination that frightened any passerby. Cold, unfeeling, methodical. There was only a single goal in sight.
It was an expression that would one day be worn on the face of her future granddaughter.
The Queen and Supreme Mage of the Present Era.
Lorelei Barthomeloi.
Her heels clicked as she walked over the tiled ground.
The time had come.
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Chaldea Alternative Records: Chapter 2: Reflections. Posted along with this update by request from the previous chapter.
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This was ridiculous.
Saber Alter didn't know what to think about the situation. Everything was just progressing along with no end in sight, and there was nothing that she or her other variants could do about it.
Seeing a younger version of herself, happy and ignorant to everything tragic that would ever happen to her, she didn't know if she could bear watching for too long. In terms of regrets, she had a few. No. In truth, she probably had many what if's in her mind.
She'd lost and gained numerous things in her life, but it was hard to say if she could have had actually done anything to change them. In this case, the fact that she'd lost out on someone who seemed to deeply care for her just because of a single decision was mind numbing.
It was frustrating!
Look at them!
Shirou was training a young Arturia who was happily grinning while getting continuously led around the nose during sword practice. The amount of care and dedication that he was revealing just to allow young Arturia to better herself was hard to keep looking at.
Her expression carefully schooled itself into one of indifference, but inside, she knew well enough that she was feeling bitter. Based on the carefully monotone expressions of her other variants, they were probably feeling much the same.
Young Arturia would definitely progress farther than any of them at her current growth rate. This meant that at the inevitable time that crisis would strike, young Arturia maybe strong enough to never repeat any of the mistakes that her older versions had made in their lives.
The thought was envy inducing.
Saber Alter, gritted her teeth. Hard.
Her jawline thinned as she balled her hands into fists.
What did she do to deserve this kind of retribution?
She understood that she became a tyrant at the end of her reign, but it wasn't because she had willingly wanted to become one. She was forced due to the circumstances. She felt like she'd only done what was necessary to safeguard Britain from its enemies.
Where was the justice in this?
Saber Alter shut herself off and decided to just watch. There was nothing else to do anyway. Her other variants did much the same.
Saber maintained an upright position with her arms crossed, while both Lancer Arturias found their own places to sit at directly across from each other. Only Lily was curious enough to directly watch from up close.
Their younger self was breathing heavily while sprawled on the ground to recover her breath.
Shirou Ashton was always there for young Arturia Pendragon. Worse, he did everything that the young child asked of him without any sort of complaint.
He cooked for her when she was hungry.
He trained with her at her beckoning.
He even carried her home so that she could rest on a proper bed every day.
He was spoiling her, and their younger self was indulging in it.
The air between the two appeared to be filled with blooming lilacs and daisies with how idyllic everything was. A deeper part of Saber Alter couldn't help but imagine how it would be like to be in this younger Arturia's position. However, it was only a fleeting thought. It wasn't like it was possible to do anyway.
Right now, Saber Alter was just certain that there had to be some purpose to her arrival in this strange place. When she found out, she'd complete it in order to stop seeing these scenes as soon as possible. Jealously was not a feeling that she enjoyed indulging in. That was an emotion that belonged exclusively to Morgan in the Pendragon family.
She scoffed uneasily.
Presently, young Arturia and Shirou were out in a forest clearing.
Young Arturia was practicing off to the side while Shirou busied himself with making the morning meal when an unexpected encounter occurred.
Saber Alter and the other Arturia's widened their eyes.
A large flaming bird had sprung up from the forest underbrush and pinned young Arturia beneath it. The Arturias watching did not need more than a second to ascertain the origins of the bird.
A Phantasmal Species.
Not good.
Phantasmal Species were not known to be harmless, but rather, a majority were vicious and were natural monsters for humans.
With both child Arturia and Shirou at such a young age, they couldn't possibly hope to take on a Phantasmal Species. It was even less likely that child Arturia could even be of much help without proper training in utilizing her Magic Core.
Where was Merlin when you needed him?
Of course, nowhere at all.
The Arturia's subconsciously tensed while looking to see what Shirou would do. Between Shirou and child Arturia, only he would have a chance to repel such a Beast with the magecraft he was proficient in using.
However, the Arturias grew incredulous when they saw Shirou's reaction.
Rather than help, Shirou looked over blankly before shrugging.
"I-It's tasting me!" Child Arturia's complexion paled as the bird loomed over her and brushed its beak across her face. "Q-Quickly, before it eats me, help!"
Shirou looked again and simply waved lightly.
Saber Alter and the other Arturias grew confused, but soon realized that the bird was doing child Arturia no harm.
Looking at how familiar Shirou was acting towards the bird, the Arturias were quick to realize that the two shared a bond of sorts.
The young Ashton wasn't simple.
Additionally, they had seen Shirou enchant a twig earlier in order to use it in combat against young Arturia's wooden training sword.
Just what kind of person did child Arturia befriend?
By the time that Shirou finished cooking and made his way over to child Arturia and the flaming bird, child Arturia's eyes were hollow, her face blank.
Shirou frowned, but soon held a roasted chicken leg in front of child Arturia's nose. She sniffed, then sniffed again before her mouth opened and she took a bite.
The food itself seemed to restore her vitality because child Arturia was up again and glaring at Shirou with accusation for quote in quote 'abandoning her to the wolves.'
Rather than be amused at the situation, the Arturias focused in on another matter.
Child Arturia's face was flushed and the way that she was eating indicated extreme levels of satisfaction. The other Arturias were quite aware that even when they were young, they never lost their table manners that Sir Ector had drilled into them. In which case, how good did the food have to taste for child Arturia to abandon ingrained habits?
"Manners Arturia." The young Ashton wiped away a couple of grease stains on the sides of young Arturia's cheeks. She was eating the seasoned and roasted chicken leg without any regard for the mess that she was making.
The other Arturias subconsciously swallowed.
"What do you think it taste like?" Lily spoke while salivating.
That question had everyone's attention.
Arturia Pendragon, past, present, future, or alternative would always be glutton.
It was a shame though that they wouldn't be able to taste the food in front of them even if they tried. They could only helplessly watch the voracious appetite of their younger self.
This was how the day eventually passed for all of them. On a side note, they found out that the flaming bird was actually the young Ashton's familiar named Efret.
The mysteries surrounding Shirou Ashton only continued to grow.
-(Intermission: Chaldea Alternative Records)-
The passage of time for the Arturias was no different in comparison to child Arturia.
When night came in the world, the Arturia's had no choice but to sit through it. In which case, sleep was the only thing that they could really do. Food and sustenance did not appear to be required for their spiritual bodies. In which case, they didn't need to really sleep either, but the mental exhaustion was building.
Since they had arrived in this strange world, none of the Arturia's had opted to sleep because they didn't need to. Instead, they remained awake and vigilant in order to react to any unexpected changes.
After several nights with nothing happening, the Arturias no longer had any qualms with sleeping. And yet, it was in sleep that they all truly came to understand the significance of their present existence.
It was a world of dreams no different from one's own.
Saber Alter closed her eyes and drifted into slumber, but it felt as if she was 'waking up' for the first time.
She blinked in confusion, the sky overhead no longer the dark of the night, but the blue sky of the day.
What was this?
She looked down to see small hands and a tiny body before freezing when her gaze travelled upward.
"Something wrong, Arturia?"
Across from her, a young child was staring at her in concern. It was a familiar face and appearance to the boy that she had seen her child version interacting with earlier in the day.
"Shirou?" She spoke the name before she could even stop herself.
Shirou frowned and walked closer to her.
For her part, she couldn't help but inwardly panic. She wasn't the child Arturia that Shirou knew.
"You seem a bit different?" He placed a hand over her forehead and looked her over in concern.
Her maturity was showing due to her full control over body. There was no way that she could act as a child given her adult temperament nor would she pretend to act like one. Hell, she didn't even know what was happening right now so why did she have to force herself to act like someone that she was not? She was her own person.
"Does it matter?" She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes coldly. It was the expression of a tyrant who had ruled Britain with an iron hand. Given her childish appearance, she looked entirely willful.
In all honestly, she expected Shirou's expression to change, or at least to react negatively in some way, but all that he did was smile and hug her closely to make sure that she was feeling okay. It was like, regardless of what kind of person she would become or grow up to be, he would accept her and always stand on her behalf.
It was an odd sort of feeling.
Her brows knit together before she turned her face away and directly changed the subject.
"T-Training," curse this childish mouth for stuttering. "Lets train."
"Sure." Shirou's reply came quick.
If Saber Alter could recall, the situation seemed to be identical to the scene that she'd witnessed when child Arturia had practiced with Shirou for the first time. If things were going according to the same script that she'd seen, then this was the time when Shirou would pick up a twig and reinforce it with magic as a weapon.
Indeed. That was exactly what happened.
He picked up a twig and beckoned for her to begin the sparring lesson.
She didn't attack right away and instead carefully hid the confusion in her face while trying to come to her own conclusion to what was happening.
Was this all real?
Or was she just reliving the experience that the child Arturia had undergone?
She looked at the wooden sword in her hand. Well, she supposed that she'd just have to find out.
Child Arturia had lost this exchange after making light of the twig in Shirou's hands.
Saber Alter wouldn't make such a careless mistake. Moreover, she already had the accumulated experience of suing a sword.
To use a mere twig against her was an insult.
"Don't make light of me," she said sternly.
Rather than actually have a match, the first exchange ended it all.
Drawing from the energy of her Magic Core, she directly overpowered Shirou's magical reinforcement and snapped the twig in his hand.
He balked and stared at it with disbelief, but the world just continued on as if Saber Alter hadn't just changed the original script by winning.
Was this some kind of new time line?
Better yet, was it her own time line?
The thought made her mind go blank, but Shirou didn't remain startled for long.
He laughed wryly and observed her with a keener eye. "I'll take you more seriously next time. I suppose that I'll have to use a sword against you now. You're quite skilled even at such a young age."
"Naturally," she huffed. However, she did not feel any satisfaction at Shirou's praise because she felt like she was cheating. She had numerous years of sword techniques in her mind while Shirou was the true genius.
He would have had schooled her younger self hands down. She'd already seen it happen.
Saber Alter suddenly had a lot to think about.
She didn't know what was going on, but she did understand one thing about her present self. "Shirou," she called out to him.
He looked up at her. "Yes?"
She nodded imperiously before replying.
"I'm hungry."
Shirou grinned before moving towards her and ruffling her hair. His actions were so fast and natural that she couldn't even attempt to stop him. "Coming right up," he said.
Somehow, she refused to accept that a part of her actually felt comfort in his actions.
While Shirou cooked lunch on the side, she sat alone on top of a rock.
She pinched herself and felt an acute pain. She was definitely in a physical body and not in a spiritual one. Right now, she could feel the hunger in her stomach and the familiarity of exhaustion in her muscles. Hard as it was to believe, she was alive in this world.
The last thing that she could remember doing was falling asleep. Did that have anything to do with anything?
She didn't know.
All thoughts left her mind from the moment that Shirou handed out a piece of roasted chicken to her. It was the very same one that had previously had her mouth watering. She took it in her hands, and being mindful of her manners, she wasn't a child; she bit down, chewed, and then swallowed.
Her eyes widened and suddenly she could understand the unrestrained image of her child self eating.
Dammit she was crying.
Not because of joy or lack of self control, but because of envy.
Child Arturia really did have it good.
"Arturia?" Shirou, bless him, immediately grew concerned when he noticed the tears glistening in her eyes. However, she had no inclination to explain the origin of her bitter tears. Instead, she just kept eating, and eating, and eating.
Seeing her appetite, rather than chastise her, Shirou simply began making more as if already used to her large appetite.
It was then while she was gorging herself that the world stilled.
Suddenly she couldn't taste anything. Everything just froze in place.
NOOOOOOO!
There was genuine despair in her eyes when they opened to see her Lancer and Saber counterparts nudging her awake. If looks could kill, she would have had killed them already if not for the rationality of her mind.
The world that Saber Alter had found herself in seemed to only be accessible to her in sleep.
"You too, huh?" Her counterpart's words knocked some sense into her and she schooled her features.
"…" She stared at them in disbelief before taking a breath and calming down. "What's going on?" She asked.
"You dreamed of turning back into a child too, right? Shirou was also there?" Saber Arturia asked sternly.
Saber Alter didn't deny it.
The same thing seemed to have had occurred for everyone, but right now, Saber Alter was more concerned about another matter. "Why did you wake me up?" She had been in the middle of eating.
Neither Lancer or Saber Arturia answered.
Saber Alter was the last one to be woken up so everyone had decided to wake her up in order to discuss what was going on.
Now however, every one of the Arturia variants was too busy contemplating to themselves to bother holding a discussion. The dream that they all had was just too real.
What if instead of a dream, whenever they slept in this world, they transferred over to another 'Alternative Record' of their time line?
It seemed to make sense in a way.
Saber Alter had already changed the progression of events by beating Shirou in a training session earlier onward. Moreover, there was no telling what other changes that the rest had already made. The timeline would soon begin to diverge if only minutely.
By watching the order of events that occurred to child Arturia, could the other Arturia's in turn be able to influence the 'Alternate Records' of their dreams?
Another world.
Another timeline.
No one had an answer, but just the thought caused all of them to possess varying emotions on their faces. Mainly determination, and resolution.
Maybe, maybe this was actually an opportunity to change things for the better? A second chance with a guide to help show them coming events so that they could prepare for the worst?
Caught up in their musings, the silence between them caused them all to notice when one of them made a noise.
Lily froze while in the midst of getting comfortable. Unlike the other Arturia, she didn't have much to think about because she'd never had the opportunity to rule as a King in her life yet. She honestly didn't have any regrets at this point in her life either. Therefore, she laughed stiffly at the expressions of her counterparts, but in truth, she didn't care.
"D-Don't mind me. I'm just going back to sleep."
There was a trail of saliva at the edge of her mouth.
It wasn't difficult to assume what Lily had on her mind.
The rest considered it, and soon followed suit to their own Alternative Records.
Thinking could wait.
Hunger was the enemy.
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Parcasious
Parcasious P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious
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