Fate-in time

38

The Lady of the Lake was a woman that possessed a beauty that was neither too humble, nor to excessive. He had called her stunning, but it was solely due to her natural demeanor. It was breathtaking, the kind men would go to any lengths to woo and obtain.

He made to approach, but she simply raised a hand as a signal to stop him, her eyes staring fondly at Arturia and not wishing to disturb her rest. After all, he and Arturia had been laying beside each other from the moment that they had decided to sleep. His action of sitting up to face the Lady of the Lake had already caused Arturia's expression to stir and hands to reach out towards him; her head finding purchase on his lap and nuzzling against it, the soft sound of her breath comforting in the tranquility of a silent Summer's eve.
The Lady of the Lake released a soft smile, her body seeming to flicker incandescently before spontaneously appearing at a location near him, yet still directly by the lake.
He maintained his silence, knowing that it was the Lady of the Lake that sought him out and not he himself.
To begin with, he already had an inkling suspicion that something was amiss when Lancelot had left abruptly, yet only now could he understand why.
A private meeting.
It was too coincidental otherwise for the Lady of the Lake to appear as soon as Arturia fell asleep. Moreover, he knew Arturia since she was a child. No matter how exhausted she may be, she had always been a vigilant woman.
Therefore, how could she possibly fall asleep so fast?
"Isn't it because of you?"
The voice that spoke seemed to hear the question in his mind, a cool and soft sensation brushing across him like a light breeze.
"Trust, faith, and hope, her emotions at peace. When one is truly relaxed by the presence of another, how could one not fall asleep knowing that they were protected?"
He steadied his gaze on the Lady of the Lake, expression softening.
"Even if that's the case, I'm sure you've come to me for more than just idle conversation," he said getting straight to the point.
The Lady of the Lake sat still for a moment before nodding her head, long silk-like bangs flowing like a waterfall that parted to reveal an elegant yet naturally cold expression.
"You are correct," the Lady of the Lake said, lips pursing together in thought. "I am called Lady Vivian, and am the woman known simply as a sword bearer. Yet, I am also a woman of thought and vision, but I have never before seen you."
Lady Vivian closed her eyes while humming lightly, opening them once more to then stare at him, her cerulean orbs probing for an answer.
He frowned.
To be honest, he wasn't sure how he was supposed to answer this sort of a question. No lie or half-truth he could devise would be able to convince an individual of Lady Vivians prows. More so when she had just admitted to a have similar ability as Merlin, the prophesier.
He was left in a bind.
If he told her the truth of his origins, a part of him was warning him that she wouldn't believe it so easily. The kind of phenomenon or magic that could bring a modern-day person back to the medieval ages would have had triggered an effect that Lady Vivian would never have had missed.
It was like tossing a rock into a water's surface. No matter how small or how feeble the rock may be, noticeable ripples would still form over the water.
It was a law that couldn't be disrupted unless under the influence of a higher power, and in the medieval day and age, Lady Vivian was a higher power.
In the end, he could only answer ambiguously.
"I am simply myself," he said, a hand tenderly brushing off the loose strands of Arturia's hair from her face. "Someone who found himself in a situation he was unwilling to walk away from."
Lady Vivian stared stoically, her stillness making it seem as if she was simply a doll.
Clearly, she wasn't too impressed with his answer, yet she had still felt the truth in his words. It was just that he was unwilling to explain.
That didn't matter though, what did was when she further scrutinized him and her attention fell on the magic crest on his armour; seemingly explaining it all in one glance.
"You are an Ashton," she stated after a moment, a sheen of light covering her pupils. "And that's all that I need to know to understand what you are here in this area for and why I've not once heard of you."
Lady Vivian laid Excalibur on her lap, her head tilting to face the smooth reflection of the lake.
"Agatha had always been an elusive woman, pitiful even. I don't understand why she had connected herself with a prominent family of Magi such as the Ashtons, but it's more than possible that she had kept you away from my visions."
Lady Vivian laid her hands on her lap over Excalibur, her fingers intertwining together before she continued.
"Generally your association with Agatha would be grounds for various misgivings of mine, but I feel that I can trust you."
The way Lady Vivian spoke seemed to resonate with something within him.
"It's odd. It truly is," Lady Vivian pondered aloud, traces of uncertainty flashing across her face. "I can even say for certain that I trust you with the destined child; that all your actions would never lead her to harm."
Of that, Lady Vivian could be assured, he thought absently.
The two lapsed into silence, Lady Vivian pondering to herself, and he content to remain as he was.
It was only when Lady Vivian unexpectedly placed a hand over his shoulder did the moment pass, her expression quickly faltering. Her eyes first widened in surprise before her brows knit together in consternation and she pulled her hand back.
"T-The blessings of the Fae," she muttered lowly. "So that's why, but that's impossible."
He didn't speak, understanding dawning on his features.
Excalibur was a sword crafted and forged by the Fae, and yet so too was Avalon, the sheath and the Ever-Distant Utopia. He had once come into contact with both of them, Avalon itself still a part of him.
In a way, his aptitude with fairies was not low, his aura even at a similar fluctuation.
It was no wonder that Lady Vivian could be so familiar and trusting towards him. He too could be described as a person like her, one trusted by the Fae and a fellow sword bearer. He the bearer of an unlimited arsenal.
Lady Vivian composed herself, the calmness returning to her face as she seemed to then avoid the subject.
"As you are an Ashton, I can understand why it is that you've come here, more so from the fact that the lingering aura of various phantasmal species still lingers on you."
Lady Vivian brushed back a lock of her hair behind her ears, the action somehow mesmerizing, but it couldn't phase him.
"If you understand already, then I can only ask if you know anything that could help the situation," he said. "Many will die with the return of the Phantasmal Species as it is."
"Naturally," Lady Vivian nodded, her lips thinning in a solemn gesture before standing up on her feet.
"Men fight men in wars that ravage the land, and Heroes fight Monsters not knowing that they themselves may become the monsters that they slay."
"I have seen the birth and fall of numerous Heroes in my life, and you give off a similar aura to them,"
Lady Vivian paused.
"The question is, what kind of Hero are you and why should I intervene where I have never have had intervened before?"
The path of a Hero was one of hardship. A man or woman undertaking a task that was suited solely for them alone. Siegfried and the Dragon Fafnir. Beowulf and Grendel. Various epics that depicted the legend of legendary heroes carved solely by their own means. Even Theseus who had outside help against the Minitour had relied on his own appeal to charm Ariadne, solving the labyrinth in his own way. King Arthur and his legend were similar, the King fighting for a Kingdom at the brink of ruins by invaders; the Lady of the Lake merely gifting the Holy Sword Excalibur and the Sheath Avalon when Arthur had proved himself worthy.
As such, what made him different to ask for aid when he had not even proven himself?
The answer to this riddle became clear to Lady Vivian when Shirou spoke.
"I am a selfish one," he said. "A man whose only wish was to save others without need for personal gain or honours; at least that's what it was before."
His gaze turned piercing, his bronze orbs radiating his honest intentions and conviction such that Lady Vivian stiffened when she felt the Excalibur in her hands reacting. The blade shook, taking on a radiant golden glow only meant for those of the righteous.
"You asked of the kind of Hero I am, but the thing is, I'm not a Hero no matter how many individuals I save. Like I said, I'm selfish. I saved others only because it was the same as saving myself, trying to obtain a happiness I had seen at the deepest depths of my own despair."
He paused, gaze shifting down towards the girl sleeping on his lap and balling his hands into fists.
"I am not a Hero. I am simply a man who wishes to protect the only thing I hold dear while still selfishly clinging on to an ideal that will never bear fruition."
"Now I ask you though, Lady Vivian."
"Is it wrong to help others? Is it wrong to save them when no one else can?"
Her brows knit together, her lips pursed.
Was this really an Ashton?
It was the first thought that appeared in Lady Vivian's mind even as a shiver travelled down her back. The Ashtons were a group of magi that had connections with phantasmal species. Of the entire family, the only man she had met had been the previous Lord Ashton during the time of the man's youth. Humble and patient would be the last words she would use to describe him, and she had expected nothing less form his descendants. Only, now did she realize that she was wrong.
Of all the Heroes that she had known, none had been this selfless. She could detect no lies in the words spoken, and that in itself had shocked her. Could there truly be such a Hero who placed others before himself?
There was no use pondering on the issue, as regardless of her thoughts, Excalibur was already beckoning her into actions, mots of light spreading around her.
In a way, she couldn't understand why Excalibur could act so familiar with the youth before her, but she was simply the sword bearer.
She would do as the sword wished.
More so because this Hero who didn't call himself a hero had earned her respect.
"You're better off not returning to that troublesome gathering of beasts and monsters," she said softly. "I am the sovereign of this area and I know all that occurs within it. There's no need to endanger yourself and the destined child just to find out the intentions of the one leading the group. I already know it."
"Oh," Shirou released a relieved sigh, waiting for Lady Vivian to continue.
"Just as you are here to repair that slate of rock that was the key to the Ashton's artificial anchor to the Reverse Side of the World, those that had already crossed over seek to destroy the actual anchors. As such, it's relatively simple to predict the movements of your targets. This current gathering of phantasmal species is most likely going to march in the direction of the nearest anchor located in a settlement named Colchester. It's best for you to wait there for their arrival and set up a defensive."
"Colchester," Shirou grimaced.
From what he recalled of the map of Britain's current state that Merlin had once displayed to him, then Colchester was within Essex, a Saxon conquered region.
An enemy region.
Great, but then again, he'd just have to deal with it when it came.
"I'm willing to send you and the destined child there in the morning through my magic, but this is the one favour I can do for you. A Hero's ordeal is not something meant for even someone like I to interfere too excessively. At most I can only give you the locations of the other anchors, and warn you of your potential enemies," Lady Vivian said.
"That's more than enough help Lady Vivian," he expressed his thanks with a nod. "Defending a town is several times safer for Arturia than infiltrating and disrupting."
Lady Vivian released a laugh in bemusement.
"If you coddle her too much, she'll grow too reliant."
"And that's the reason why I'm here. To ease her burdens."
The two fell into silence once more, the soft sound of Arturia's breathing the only noise in the surroundings other than the gentle lull of the lake.
"Ashton," Lady Vivian suddenly called, her expression pensive.
She hadn't asked before, but he knew that it wasn't something he should keep from her or risk straining their current relationship. Besides, of the people he knew from the history glimpsed from Excalibur, the Lady of the Lake was a woman of integrity. She could be trusted.
It only helped that she already had a suspicion when it came to him after she had touched his shoulder.
Tentatively, he raised a hand, magical power igniting into a distinct blue aura.
A Sheath that stemmed from within him forming within his hands.
The Garden of the Ever-Distant Utopia.
A Haven and the Kings Final resting ground.
Lady Vivian's expression grew increasingly still, her breath growing shorter and shorter even as she unconsciously approached.
It was impossible.
Something completely out of her own understanding.
No two copies of the same relic should exist at the same time, and yet the proof was in front of her.
A Sheath made of the purest of gold, and blue enamel.
Made to look more as a decoration fit for Kings and Nobles rather than a weapon.
Lady Vivian's eyes shone with a distinct gleam. Her mind connecting the puzzles together to form a larger picture and wavering at the result. She had ascertained from the slate in Shirou's possession that Shirou must have had some connection with Agatha for he was an Ashton, but even still; in this moment, she had made up her mind.
He was too rare of a gem to waste in that other woman's hands.
For what he had created, no one else could replicate.
For no mortal should have had been able to forge it.
A product of the Fae.
Avalon, the embodiment of the King's Utopia.
Colchester was the name of the town first established in the Roman expedition and expansion into Britain. As such, many buildings created by the Romans still remained in the town even after the Saxon invasion that occupied it.
Many homes were made of brick and tile, lacking most of the huts made of thatch and straw that the poorer serfs lived in at other towns.
After Saxon occupation, Colchester had been refurbished defensively should the locals that the Saxons had driven out amass an army and attack. After all, there was news of a young King sung by the local Britain attacking Saxon settlements all around the interior grounds of the island.
Although it was just rumours to many, the fact that the ruling King that had occupied Colchester issued the creation of high walls around the city, meant that there was more to this supposed rumour than what meets the eye.
As unease began to settle amongst the new populace who had migrated from over seas to seek greener pastures, a spark of light began to emit from an obscure location within the town.
Twisting, the spark of light began to expand outwards before three individuals were spat out and left sprawled on the ground.
Shirou groaned, a hand coming to rest on his temples as he inwardly cursed the woman who had sent them here. It was true that Lady Vivian had said that she would send him and Arturia in the morning, but that didn't mean that she had to do it while they were still sleeping.
Poor Arturia didn't even understand what was going on until she was already falling out of the portal made from Lady Vivian's magic.
Moreover, he had long since noticed the addition to the party of two.
Lancelot had been tossed along with them.
The again, he already made this agreement with Lady Vivian in the prior evening after she went over a few more details about the location of the other anchors and possible threats. In terms of Phantasmal Species, she had informed him of two definite types that had crossed over back to the Human world.
The Elves and the Dwarves.
To begin, these two magical races had been flourishing even alongside humans, staying within the depths of the forests and the mines of the mountains. Neither of the two had wished to leave the Human World, but in the end were forced to due to forces outside of their own means. It was only natural that they would be bitter and take any opportunity that they could to escape. The only consolation about these two races however was that they were content to remain in their own civilizations. Once they were out of the Reverse Side of the World, they had retreated to recreate what they had once lost. The two figurative heads of the races each possessing a key necessary to repair the Ashton's artificial Anchor.
In short, they wouldn't actively jeopardize him or any innocents.
As such, the only two individuals that Lady Vivian had informed him to be wary of at present were the monsters of myth and folklore that had gathered together in groups to destroy the other world's Anchors. The leaders of these gatherings of monsters were the ones in possession of the other two keys required.
Composing himself, he stood up on his feet and surveyed his surroundings, noticing the odd stares a few people were giving.
He smiled at them awkwardly, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself and the others because they were in Saxon territory. If they were discovered to be locals of Britain, then that would make his current goals far more difficult to achieve.
In the first place, Lady Vivian had already informed him that Colchester was the target of the group of phantasmal species that he and Arturia had infiltrated into once before. A World Anchor existed within the town that stood above the fact that he, Arturia, and Lancelot would have to aid in the defence of an enemy. It was for the sake of humanity itself after all.
Groggily, both Arturia and Lancelot got on to their feet.
"W-What's going on?" Arturia said wide-eyed.
Lancelot simply remained silent, but was fervently taking his surroundings after being kept alone in a forest for so long. The sight of so many faces left him feeling speechless, yet he still maintained his composure.
In regards to Lancelot's addition to the group, it was precisely because Lady Vivian had lamented about Lancelot's limited world view. Talented as Lancelot was, Lady Vivian feared that her boy of the lake would grow to naïve left isolated in the forest.
Noticing that she was being stared at after her question, Arturia promptly closed her mouth and unconsciously shifted towards Shirou, looking for an explanation.
Shirou merely gestured for her to keep silent before prompting them to follow him to an area devoid of others. It was only then that he began explaining everything.
"Wait, then these people are enemies?" Arturia whispered, expression sour.
Shirou shook his head.
"Even if they are, we still have to help them somehow repel the coming attack of the Phantasmal Species and at the same time locate and take down the leader."
"Shirou," Arturia said bewilderedly. "These people are living here after having killed our fellow countrymen."
"And I believe what Shirou is trying to say is to look at a broader perspective," Lancelot intervened, clearing his throat. "If we don't help them, then more monsters of myth and legend will return fully from the Reverse Side of the World. No one wins in that case."
"Exactly," Shirou agreed, knowing that Arturia had the heart to put aside her differences for this kind of matter.
Expectedly, she relented. However, it didn't stop her expression from being constantly constrained. The enemies Sir Ector had told her of in her youth were the most savage and brutal of people. Therefore, even if the people she saw in the distance looked like regular serfs, she still felt weary. And yet, she knew by heart that they weren't truly bad people. Merely those seeking a future in another land and whose lives would still have their own purpose.
It was unfortunate though that they were enemies by circumstance.
Even still, she would let things go just this once.
Her expression soon calmed.
"What are your plans?" Lancelot asked straightforwardly.
"Well, other than defending being a top priority, we still have to locate the leader of the enemy side," Shirou pondered aloud. "Defending and searching will be too difficult to do simultaneously as there are only three of us, and only one stone that can identify the leader."
Saying that, Shirou pulled the stone Agatha had given him that shone brighter the closer he was to the target.
"We're going to need more than just ourselves to tide through this successfully," Lancelot said with certainty.
"Then how about the town guard?" Arturia asked, recalling bits of information Merlin had taught her. "In any town, there should be some form of garrison stationed as defence. The fact that the current ruler of this town has built a high wall will make the defence a tad easier."
Lancelot thought for a moment on Arturia's words, the education imparted by the Lady of the Lake more than enough to see the flaw in the currently offered suggestion.
"How will you recruit the town's guards and people? Without proper preparation this town will be overwhelmed," he said curtly.
They fell into silence, none of the three having any ideas.
"Regardless, we still have to try doing persuading the people," Shirou said, gaze drifting towards the building at the center of Colchester. "And the best way to do that is to enter the reception hall of the King."
Colchester itself was turned from a town into something more like a castle after the Saxons had occupied it. The high walls created around the town only made this deduction more evident. As such, it was most likely that the King's residence would be located somewhere near the center most location of the town or another building that's been heavily fortified.
In which case, Shirou had a destination in mind.
All Lancelot and Arturia did afterwards was follow as Shirou led them through the dirt-paved streets and directly in front of a Noman Keep redecorated by flowing purple tapestry. Purple itself had a direct correlation to a King.
Guard stood at the front entrance wearing armours of full plate and swords sheathed at their sides.
Almost as soon as they had spotted the guards, the guards had spotted them.
Murmuring to each other, one of the guards approached with large strides.
"Halt." The guard's voice was strong and imposing. "The King is hosting a banquet. None are to enter without express permission."
Arturia and Lancelot stared at Shirou, wondering how he could possibly be able to seek an audience with the King.
If Shirou was anyone else, he would have had been hard-pressed to find an answer. However, this one was relatively easy considering the boastfulness of his own teacher of a couple years.
"Would you're King not be interested in talking with a wizard?"
He raised his palm, a short sword appearing and hovering above it.
The guard's eyes nearly looked like they would pop out of their sockets, the man tumbling backwards in agitation.
"A-A wizard," the man spluttered, never having seen one before. At the most he'd only heard of one named Merlin.
Immediately the guard ran back to the building's entrance and entered, leaving the other guard that was still stationed outside to gawk at his feat.
With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the weapon before feeling a judgmental stare at his back.
"I thought you said a Magus mustn't so easily expose their magic?" Arturia said flatly. "Merlin was supposed to be the only exception."
He pretended he didn't hear her despite knowing exactly what she meant. After the Wizards gathering in Roan several years ago, it was decided that magecraft was to be kept in secret much like it had been in the future. This rule had been implemented for the very same reason as the previous time-line. To slow down the declination of magic by keeping the art solely to a select few. Other than this rule that stayed relatively the same, there were other rules that became implemented, one due to his own influence. Said suggestion was the need for a Magi to be up to date with technology. Words couldn't describe how beneficial it could be for a magus to locate specific items for a ritual in the future by just ordering it from the internet. Of course, there were uses, but he didn't have time to recall as the guard came back.
"The majesty welcomes you," the guard said, leading Shirou and the rest into the establishment.
Decoration within the medieval age was nothing too grand, but Kings could possess a high level of decorum. In this case, it was rather moderate with small paintings hung on the walls with dimly lit candles that lead into the inner chamber where a man sat upon a throne.
His name was Norvel Bedford, a lesser known man who had made himself King and ruler of the land after commanding in the conquering of Colchester by the Saxons.
Currently, it wasn't just Norvel who was present in the hall, but many others who Shirou could quickly assume were people of higher standing. Oddly enough, one man in the room nearly chocked on his drink from the moment his eyes fell on Shirou and Arturia in recognition.
The man's breathing grew erratic, but he quickly maintained his appearance and quietly shifted to an obscure corner of the room, watching attentively as Norvel called for space to be made.
The guests parted at Norvel's beckoning and Shirou, Arturia, and Lancelot were soon placed at the center.
"You are a wizard?" Norvel asked, a hand absently swirling the wine he kept in a bronze-coloured goblet. "You appear too young for one who doesn't even understand courtesy."
Shirou shrugged, not bothering to kneel as it would put Arturia in a difficult position. He knew that Arturia herself would never have had kneeled, so he too would not do so either.
"Age has nothing to do with magic," he said, willing for a couple swords and daggers to form in the air in the form of a wide circle.
They were dazzling, their silver gleam somehow enchanting those present, but at the same time giving them a sense of fear as they absently rotated.
This was simply a small show for credibility. He had to prove to all present that he was a wizard so that his words would have weight behind them.
Evidently, the small spectacle he had performed was more than enough, Norvel applauding without pause.
"Brilliant," Norvel said, a smile forming on the man's lips. "I assume that a wizard such as yourself would only seek my presence for employment is it not? Of course, you and your apprentices there are hired. With your magic we can kill those violent bastards waging war on us to expand our lands for the people. In fact, this is an ideal time for your arrival as this King Arthur that's suddenly appeared and sieging my allies has his own wizard by his side, Merlin if I recall."
Arturia's expression frosted over knowing full well who the bastards Norvel was referring to were.
Shirou shook his head in response to Norvel's words, causing the man's expression to grow unsightly.
"I have not come here to enlist under you," he said directly. "I've come here to aid you in a disaster that's coming to this town. A wave of beasts and monsters the likes of which you've never seen before that will arrive in no more than seven days at the latest."
This was as much time as Lady Vivian had informed him of to build a defence.
A cup fell to the ground, but this was only the reaction of one man who had hid in the corner to listen attentively. As for the rest, none truly reacted.
"Great, that's great," Norvel said laughing derisively, the others joining him. "Wizards are one thing, boy, as you have just proven it yourself, but monsters? No one's ever seen one to date, let alone a wave of them? How many would you even need to form a wave? More than an army at least."
Norvel glared, still feeling irked that Shirou had denied his services.
"Guards!" Norvel called smugly. "Take them away and lock them in prison until they can think their decision over."
Shirou didn't say a word as the guards came and arrested them, merely closed his eyes and reserved himself. He had tried and it was clear that Norvel wouldn't see reason until the army of phantasmal species was completely upon Colchester. He could only hope that at that point, there would still be time to turn things around.
Arturia glowered, expression furious as she knew full well just how many men would end up dying do to Norvel's decision. As a future King, she couldn't tolerate such ignorance, yet she quelled her anger and followed Shirou's example. It wouldn't do to expose herself do to her own fury.
Lancelot however had no problems speaking the truth, expression unfaltering as the guards led him out.
"You'll regret this," he said, voice echoing.
It's been seven days.
He didn't like it.
There was this ominous sort of feeling that surrounded Gale Tate from the moment he had recognized both Arturia and Shirou from the war he had once led in the battle of the River Glein. Gale Tate himself had been the commander that had lost on that day.
Shirou had spoken of monsters coming to lay siege to the town, and although many including the ruling King had laughed at them, Gale had never once let out a sound other than dropping his wine glass. For he had once been in a similar position.
He had been ridiculed and shunned at the end of the War of the River Glein. A prominent leader sent away and reduced to a mere town's guard by orders of his father to lay low from Hengist's wrath.
Then again, that was years ago, and no matter how insistent his father was for him to take up military command again, he had always turned down the offer.
He wasn't full of himself, just a tad weary and still stuck-up over the past to reflect on what he could have had done to change things, but regardless, only he knew the truth of the matter.
Currently, he was being persistent while facing his colleague, Jarred, a man who Gale grudgingly got along with in most cases. Jarred was an astute man whose head had went bald in his youth, leaving behind an average looking face, but with strong eyebrows.
The two of them were wearing comfortable leather armours with pieces of plate sewn at the chest for added protection. They weren't as protective as full-plate armour, but the duty of a sentry was to be able to move and notify the town at a moment's notice.
As such, it was evident that the two were on sentry duty, Jarred having higher authority than Gale do to a promotion. Thus, only Jarred could report directly to the Guard Captain without being questioned by the other guards.
This one point though was driving Gale crazy.
Unlike Jarred, Gale had been able to attend the King's court due to his special status, allowing him to hear the specific news about monsters coming. No matter how much the others had laughed, Gale couldn't deny that he had once seen a monster, and through his own intuition he wanted the town guards to at least set up a defence. He'd been trying to ever since the King's banquet ended.
Problem was, Jarred.
"A horde of monsters? C'mon Gale, has your loss all those years ago really taken away your fangs?" Jarred laughed humourlessly. "You can't possibly believe in that rubbish."
"If you'd seen what I'd seen, and heard what I'd heard, you would believe me friend," Gale said firmly, expression somber and teeth clenched. "I've never lied about my loss. Only dimwits refusing to believe what was written in the reports."
Jarred raised a brow.
"You can't expect them to believe a flaming bird suddenly came from out of nowhere and raised the entire field into a sea of flames, now can you? For fucks sake man, grow some balls and learn to eat a loss. It happens in war, and even the Young Wolf of your youth was no exception. Besides, it doesn't help your case either that you are the only one present to testify your sightings."
Gale fell silent, the loss of his loyal men that represented a select few of those that he had led on that day still weighing heavily on him just as much as the disappearance of the daughters of Hengist. If not for Hengist relying mainly on his sons, then Gale would have had been executed long ago.
As for the loss of his men, he wasn't exactly sure if they were all really dead or just captured. It had been too chaotic at the battle of the River Glein after the arrival of the flaming bird. Therefore, he couldn't be certain of anything.
"I'm not asking you to believe me Jarred," Gale said stubbornly, scratching at his hair in frustration. "All I'm asking for is that you take this issue to the Guard's Captain before it's too late to prepare."
Jarred listened to Gale's words, but it was clear to Gale that he wasn't being taken seriously.
Gale's already pointed eyes and rugged appearance was steadily growing more savage.
"Listen Gale," Jarred said dismissively, putting a hand on Gale's shoulder. "I think you need a break man. I swear some witch or something's clouded your mind in the past few day. Monster's aren't real, grow up."
Gale's lip twitched before he grabbed Jarred's hand and shoved the man with his shoulder, the clang of their armours echoing atop the high wall.
"Fuck Jarred, if you say one more word of protest, I swear that this day of next year will be your funeral anniversary!"
"Alright, alright," Jarred relented, massaging his injured chest. "It's not like the Guard Captain will even listen to this bullshit."
Expecting a counter to his words, Jarred raised his arms in defence, only to realize that Gale stood unmoving, a pallid colour draining into his cheeks.
"Gale?" Jarred called, feeling that something was wrong.
An instant later, he felt a vibration travel up his legs, a light tremble that was only growing stronger and stronger. Atop the city wall, this effect was growing more and more pronounced. It felt like the entire structure could crumble at any moment.
"W-What's going on?" Jarred muttered as he struggled to maintain his balance, a hand clutching at the nearest object for support.
Gale swallowed, beads of perspiration running down his face.
There was no answer that he could give.
No meaning in speaking.
His mother had always told him that one day there would be retribution for all the blood spilt by both friends and enemies alike. She, a woman who had actively been against war.
He'd never believed her.
Not once.
Simply knowing that without fighting, one's desires could never be accomplished.
Now though he felt like he understood while staring at those murderous eyes, the shade of a crimson red.
This was retribution.
For the abominations and beasts approaching Colchester's walls could not have had spawned from anywhere in the mortal world.
Gale saw Jarred physically stiffen, the man's expression whitening in disbelief even while Jarred frantically ran in the direction of the Guard Captain while calling out warnings.
Yet it would do no good.
Gale seemed to age a number of years in an instant.
What defense could they mount against such a force?
What resistance could they possibly give?
When all else was lost, only one memory returned to Gale's mind in his despair.
A blazing bird, and the rider that had once road upon it.
He could only hope that he wasn't too late.
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