Fate-in time

42

By the time the morning came and the sun rose overtop the forest canopy, he was already tending to a fire he had lit the previous night to keep warm. The embers produced from within the dull orange timber crackled and popped, the noise waking Arturia up from where she had slept on a pile of grass and leaves that he had helped gather for her.

She yawned, stretching her fingers out as her arms rose above her head before gradually falling.
"Sleep well?" he asked, poking at the flames with a stick before tossing in more tinder and glancing up at his companion.
She stared at him as her lips thinned into a worried glower, eyes narrowed.
"Better then you," she quipped before sitting up and re-braiding her hair which had gotten untied in her rest. "Did you even sleep at all?"
He startled before sighing, moving away from the fire to sit beside Arturia and rummage through the supplies in their bags.
"More or less," he said after a moment, procuring the necessities necessary for breakfast and not saying much else.
Arturia frowned at his response, knowing that he was lying from the bags that had formed under his eyes, but not calling him out on it. Instead, she simply grew wearier on his behalf, the way she was looking at him becoming more concerned by the moment.
Finally, her lips pursed before she decided to confront him on the issue.
"Last night," she began, brows furrowing as she called out to him. "What exactly were you looking at to be so fixated? No monster or enemy should be able to get near here with Lady Vivian's protection."
He stared at her after she had finished speaking, watching the way her arms adamantly crossed around her chest as if she wouldn't accept anything but the truth. Unfortunately, her words made it even harder for him to admit to the problem since it was Lady Vivian herself who may be out for him. In hindsight, threatening an Elemental, especially one as renowned as Lady Vivian, probably wasn't the best of choices.
Therefore, how could he be willing to explain that his caution had prevented him from sleeping in favour of watching guard in the direction of the Lake?
The answer was simple, he didn't.
He shook his head at her whilst sticking a skewer of roast meat and vegetables he had just finished cooking in front of her nose to placate her.
"If you think your attempts are going to work, they're not," she huffed, yet the way her eyes locked onto the offered food clearly betrayed her interest. More so when her mouth was involuntarily opening and closing as she swallowed.
Unfortunately, her adamance regarding the previous night's matter wasn't swayed. She firmly held herself back regardless of how he tried to coax her. Eventually he sighed and turned around, propped the skewer by the fire, and then made his way to sit across from Arturia only for his expression to flicker; hers tinging red with the obvious discoloration of her cheeks.
"Did it taste alright?" He asked calmly in a deadpan, staring from Arturia and then to the partially eaten food on the skewer.
She flushed almost immediately, wiping the lingering oil that glistened over her lips and the edges of her mouth with her sleeve before flustering.
"Whatever you're thinking…Y-You're mistaken," she stuttered, a hand flailing before pointing at him in accusation. "A-And don't try to change the topic. It won't work."
He clicked his tongue.
She remained stubborn.
"What are you so concerned about anyway?" She questioned in his silence, tilting her head closer insistently. "It doesn't matter what it is, I can help."
He stared hard at her, and she at him without blinking before he eventually conceded, giving out a partial truth and unwilling to elaborate.
"The future," he said.
The area momentarily turned silent, a breeze rustling the leaves as Arturia's brows contorted indignantly.
Noticing how she was about to speak out in retort he immediately stuffed a bun of bread in her mouth, forcing her to chew heatedly before speaking, and by then, he had already moved away.
She huffed at him in annoyance while pulling the larger portion of the bread from out of her mouth. She could see that his reluctance was due to his concern for her and therefore, it was fine for now. Besides, she could just find out later when he was less guarded. Thinking so, she glanced down demurely and nibbled on her food, relishing in the sweet yet salty taste as she drew her legs in to sit more comfortably.
It was nostalgic. The outdoors, watching him cook, and the way he always looked out for her, unmistakably bringing a tender warmth to her heart.
And it was exactly how they passed the morning until Lady Vivian arrived accompanied by Lancelot.
Shirou tensed almost instantly, a weariness flashing through his bronze gaze that he hid discreetly from Arturia's view.
"Lady Vivian," he greeted cordially before then nodding towards Lancelot.
Different from before, Lancelot now held a sword in hand, and based on the blisters formed on his palms, he must have had begun practicing.
A good sign.
Lancelot would one day become that famed Knight second only to King Arthur.
Hearing his greeting, Lady Vivian remained neutral, staring at him without blinking and causing both Lancelot and Arturia to realize that there was something wrong. He on the other hand met her gaze with his own, his resolve unshakable.
"Lancelot," Lady Vivian called out softly.
"Yes?" Lancelot stood at attention.
"Will you not go with our young friend here to exchange sword techniques?" Lady Vivian gestured towards Arturia with a delicate hand while lecturing. "One can not improve without thorough tempering."
Lancelot stared peculiarly at Lady Vivian, yet acceded to her request due to the respect he had for the woman who raised him. Thus, he turned to stand across from Arturia.
"If you'd be so kind," he beckoned with a glint of anticipation and competitiveness.
In response, Arturia hesitated. She could tell that Lady Vivian wanted to discuss something alone with Shirou, but at the same time, she'd been with Shirou long enough to detect how tense he was at the moment. However, with Lady Vivian's character, Arturia convinced herself that Lady Vivian wouldn't do anything untoward against him. Otherwise, Arturia would never forgive her.
"Is that a challenge?" She responded candidly to Lancelot. "Because you'd be too naïve to think of defeating me at your current mastery."
Lancelot raised a brow before moving away and beckoning for Arturia to follow. "The blessings of the lake will be with me. You need not worry too much unless you wish to be defeated in front of your friend," he responded.
Arturia bristled at the provocation and mutedly followed, her lips thinned.
When Arturia and Lancelot got far enough away, Lady Vivian sighed, her blank countenance shifting to something more amicable while regarding Shirou.
Wordlessly, she gave to him the copies of Excalibur, Arondight, and Galatine which he had previously traced as a show of his strength.
In his hands again, he promptly dismissed the traced swords, watching as Lady Vivian's eyes never left the process. Only when the swords were completely gone did Lady Vivian speak once more.
"You really are quite unique Ashton. No matter how I analyzed and compared those swords, they were genuine. From the craftsmanship to the make, they were all the same," her tone was flat, but the rigidness of her body conveyed the gravity of the matter.
Of course, Lady Vivian would find everything identical about the swords though. His Tracing process relied on replicating everything about the original and reforging the blade using the same techniques. In Arondight, Galatine, and Excalibur's case, this meant Fairy-made blacksmithing.
Something impossible in Lady Vivian's eyes especially in regards to Excalibur, a Last Phantasm. It was theoretically impossible for two to exist, and yet when she had scrutinized the traced Excalibur, two Last Phantasms resided in the same plane of existence.
Did that not mean that her duty of safeguarding the Sacred Sword would be meaningless should Shirou simply make and distribute other copies of it?
The thought itself kept the Lady of the Lake just as guarded towards Shirou as he had been of her in the previous night. Though perhaps there was a reason he could recreate Fairy-made armaments.
"The presence of the Fae resides within you," she discovered in surprise upon closer inspection of him. "Granted, Lord Ashton was a similar existence to myself. His kin should at least possess some similarities."
He raised a brow at her low muttering, able to distinguish her words due to his reinforced sense of hearing and subsequently growing confused.
It was Lord Ashton again.
Regardless of what supernatural problem he was facing, every phantasmal entity he had faced in the current era always knew Lord Ashton and the Ashton family. Who were they? The answer was something he had partially glimpsed when he had tapped into the Ashton magic crest at the battle at Colchester. They were a magus family whose research delved into phantasmas, Lord Ashton himself an individual who actively hunted them to reduce their influence on the world.
As he contemplated, Lady Vivian had long since come to a decision regarding him after a heated debate with Agatha.
"Here," she said, placing a hand within her garments and producing two pieces of a broken slate, stunning him as the stone Agatha had given him shone with a brilliant red-luster.
Two more pieces of the Ashton slate fell into his hands as he stared dumbfounded at them in disbelief.
"Take them as an apology for my earlier behaviour," Lady Vivian said before sighing. "I was not able to procure the last piece due to the slyness of that Evil Dragan residing within a den outside the influence of my domain of water. You will have to defeat Fafnir on your own. As for the other two, it was their ignorance to attempt to face me within the confines of a lake or a swamp."
Gratified as he was that someone on Lady Vivian's level had moved on his behalf, he still couldn't understand her motives.
"Why?" He ended up asking.
Her clear pupils glanced up at him before she simply shook her head, unwilling to explain that it was part of an agreement she had come to with Agatha. Thus, she ignored his question by giving him a warning.
"You will understand later Ashton, that this slate you seek to complete may not be as simple as you imagine. Now call back the destined child. The longer we dally, the more time the Evil Dragon Fafnir has to prepare."
Lady Vivian would explain no more, promptly gesturing towards Lancelot and Arturia in the distance to come over.
Hard as it was for Arturia to imagine, she had very nearly suffered a loss at a novice practitioner's hands. Admittedly, she had underestimated how skillful Lancelot was with a sword and had been caught unprepared when he parried against her. Naturally, her self-esteem had taken a minor blow that was only gouged deeper when she noticed the satisfaction in Lancelot's eyes.
As soon as she arrived and stood beside Shirou, Lady Vivian closed her eyes and whisked them away with a spell, leaving Lancelot behind who stared openly at her.
"Do not fret child of the lake, your path will begin at a later date," a trace of compassion flashed within her eyes as she consoled. "Just that it's not our place to follow alongside them on their final journey."
Blinking as she got over her disorientation, it was to find herself and Shirou staring towards a massive cave opening at the hill-side of a towering mountain. The vegetation around was dense with lush trees and thick foliage, yet somehow the entrance of the cave was barren. A sinister aura emanating from the cave's shadows.
Instinctively, her hands rested on the hilt of her sword, yet she didn't feel any safer. The blood of Dragons within her was warning her of the presence of a greater Dragon within the cave's depths. One far stronger than her current strength even with Caliburn in her possession.
She shuddered unknowingly until a hand made its way to rest on her shoulder.
"It's okay," Shirou said. "You don't have to come. You can wait outside. Besides, something feels wrong here."
A crow in the distance took off from a tree and perched on a protruding edge of stone before cawing. The sound echoing ominously within the eeriness of the area.
She took everything in, and even then, her mind remained unchanged.
She placed her hand on the shoulder Shirou was holding, entwining her fingers with his before staring at him in firm resolution.
"Together," she emphasized with the squeezing of her hand.
The finality of her tone brooked no room for argument.
Shirou took a moment of silence before he responded in kind, a massive change from how he would have had responded in their youth.
"Together."
She smiled, the hardships she had endured leading up to the present moment suddenly feeling more than worth it as she finally made her way to stand by Shirou's side. No longer was she to be protected as she had as a child. This time, it was her turn to protect him as he did for her.
He walked slightly ahead of her as they entered the cave, adamant that she stays a short way behind to avoid danger. Her protests on the matter were left unheard as he explained to her that he was more suited to be leading due to his enhanced senses.
She didn't fully agree.
With the blood of dragons running through her veins, the darkness of the cave wasn't as difficult for her to navigate in.
Nonetheless, Shirou led and she followed, the basis of who was better to lead not something that was really argued over when she nearly fell into a pit hidden in the floor.
She inwardly huffed in vexation, but the earlier incident was still fresh in her mind, making her travel with more caution than she had in the beginning.
The two had progressed deep within the cave, the caverns within expanding into large spaces filled with hanging stalagmites that glittered with a dull radiance from a source of light originating from a hole in the outside.
Therefore, the area was bright enough that neither she or Shirou had to strain their eyes any longer.
She released a sigh of relief, but tensed in the next moment when Shirou signalled towards her.
"Something's wrong," he said while gently tapping the ground the two were standing over with a foot; the action producing a deep and reverberating sound that echoed acutely in his ears.
Thereafter, he stiffened when he noticed a distinct crack forming quickly between him and Arturia. Along with the prior observation he had made, he was now certain of a gut-wrenching fact.
"The floor…its hollow."
Almost as soon as he spoke, the ground caved in beneath them, the way the two were standing inadvertently plummeting them in different directions.
Shirou tried to make his way over to her, but the plume of dust and debris that erupted around them made it impossible to locate her as she fell.
All she saw during her sudden descent was a darkness enveloping her, the feel of tiny rocks and pebbles grinding against her skin leaving small red imprints over her exposed shoulders before her body hit ground.
She groaned but quickly reacted by rolling as other larger stones impacted the area she had just fallen on.
Blood dripped down from a cut on her forehead, the weight of her legs feeling like jelly as her body shivered.
"Shirou!" She called out, eyes darting around but finding nothing but piles of debris.
Staring up, she couldn't even see where it was that she had fallen from, let alone attempt to find where Shirou had landed in his efforts to reach her. Moreover, she didn't want to think of the option of him being buried under the rocks either.
A cloud of dust still lingered in the air around her, and when it settled, she realized that apart from an opening leading to another part of the cave, there was no where else for her to go while surrounded by the collapsed floor of the upper level.
Left with no other choice and knowing that remaining still would get her nowhere, she proceeded on while cradling a bruise that had formed on her left arm.
Slowly, she eventually reached a new cavern just as lit as the previous. Only she wasn't alone in the room.
The blood within her began to boil in warning, a massive black dragon with a blue sigil marked on its chest staring down at her with a harsh indifference. Its scales were iron, its teeth were swords, and its wings a sleek black leather that flapped open at her arrival.
"A young whelp?" the dragon muttered before sneering. "I am Fafnir, son of Hreidmar and brother of Regin, Ótr, Lyngheiðr and Lofnheiðr. What does the likes of you have business with me especially while accompanying the young Ashton?"
The draconic force Fafnir was releasing pressed down on her like the sea, overbearing and unrelenting. She gritted her teeth and glared despite her growing nervousness.
"You are an Evil Dragon, there's no need for any other reason," she forced out.
Merlin had taught her various things, one of which was that the monsters she had heard of in her childhood were once as real as real could ever be. Bridge trolls, imps, hounds, they had all once walked upon the very same earth. As such, not only did Merlin educate her on the various uses of her magic core, but at the same time he had gave her knowledge of well-known mythological monsters.
Fafnir was one of them originating from Saxon tradition.
The Evil Dragon of the Nibulgunleid that horded wealth and slaughtered all who opposed it.
"Evil Dragon?" Fafnir chuckled darkly, a deep throaty baritone. "You think too kindly of me whelp."
"It wasn't a compliment," she quickly brandished Caliburn in her hands, the comfort it gave her enough to clear her mind.
"A Holy Sword?" Fafnir observed before shaking his head. "Unfortunately, I am not aligned to demonic properties. Its light will never affect me as much as a Dragon slaying sword. Come, try it."
Fafnir mockingly extended out a dragon scaled hand, but the amusement he found in the situation dissipated from the moment Caliburn punctured his scales, Arturia driving it in hilt deep.
Fafnir grimaced in pain, but refused to voice it out. Instead pulling back his hand and glaring as traces of green poisonous smoke drifted from out of his maw.
"Impudent whelp!" Fafnir bellowed incensed before reigning in its temper upon sighting a crow watching from the sidelines. "Your sword may be able to cut me, but it can't kill me," he glowered.
Arturia merely readied Caliburn in response, the magic from her magic core suffusing her body in a pale-blue aura. Her legs opened into a ready stance while her shoulders squared in a practiced motion.
Yet, Fafnir unnerved her by instantly seeing through her intentions.
"You wish to buy time for the Ashton?" Fafnir deduced.
A cold sweat began to drip down Arturia's face, knowing full well that Fafnir wasn't lying when he said that she wouldn't be able to kill him alone at her current skill level. Shirou had always been there for her, and she had faith in him even still. In her mind, he would come and together they could defeat anything.
Which made it all the more startling when the draconic aura pressuring her suddenly relented.
"I'll permit it."
Saying that, Fafnir folded his wings and assumed a resting position with its head looming over a stunned Arturia; she unsure if Fafnir decided to wait out of arrogance or pride, perhaps both.
Even still, this was to her benefit so she did nothing to agitate Fafnir lest he reconsider his actions.
Time dragged on, the tension she was feeling mounting with each passing moment as the grip she had over Caliburn's hilt grew tighter and tighter.
The silence stretched from seconds to minutes, broken only by Fafnir's own doing.
"Why must you take me as an enemy whelp?" He asked out of boredom. "It couldn't possibly just be because I'm known as an Evil Dragon."
Expectedly, she didn't answer, her lips remaining pursed.
Fafnir shrugged, not taking Arturia as a threat for the time being and instead meticulously reviewing the back up plan that had formed in his mind since observing how close Arturia was with Shirou at the entrance of the cave.
"Not talking, I'm fine with that as well," Fafnir grinned. "You need only listen then as I tell you a story."
She glanced up at Fafnir, unsure of what the Dragon was planning yet remaining cautious nonetheless.
"There was once a sovereign of scorched earth, a Fire Elemental connected to the Will of the World," Fafnir began with an inflection in his voice. "A Lord of Flame, whose influence even stretched far within the Reverse Side. His name was Lord Ashton."
Her grip on Caliburn slackened in surprise at Fafnir's admission, thoughts spinning, but left in even more turmoil as the dragon continued.
"An indifferent individual, Lord Ashton unexpectedly fell prey to a feeling foreign to most Elementals whose thoughts and priorities differed from humans. A feeling captured by a single word. Love."
Fafnir grinned derisively.
"Lord Ashton took a fancy towards a human. A woman from a clan of magi bent on researching the essence of phantasmal beings. Inadvertently, he had neglected a duty tasked to both him and the Elemental of Shadow, Agatha, as a result."
Fafnir turned to stare Arturia in the eye, slitted pupils watching the minute changes of her body as his gravely voice crept its way into her ears like the whispering of a snake.
"If Vivian, the Water Elemental was charged with bearing the Last Phantasm, then Lord Ashton and Agatha were charged with maintaining the balance. Those that left to the Reverse Side, were meant to stay in the Reverse Side, unable to find their way back as the world willed it, but Lord Ashton's fixation on the human he called his wife led to disaster."
Fafnir reared his head back as if in remissness before resuming his previous position.
"In the time Lord Ashton had spent with his pregnant wife, the artificial anchor his wife was creating to make a hidden path to the Reverse Side was found and exploited. The Phantasmas began returning one by one, forcing Lord Ashton to start hunting them down alongside the shadow beasts of Agatha. The First Blood Pact began, a collaboration sealed by Geis."
Arturia continued to listen quietly, but Fafnir could see that his voice was steadily getting through to her.
"Lord Ashton had even fostered the aid of humans, forming large groups and aiding them in political battles to set up a vast network of contacts to single out any phantasmal species that had escaped his reaches. Lord Ashton's attempts almost succeeded, but then a certain event happened a couple years after the birth of his only son. Thoroughly cornered by Lord Ashton's means, the remaining phantasmal beasts had no other options."
"They made a last-ditch attempt," Fafnir shrugged. "The Ashton Assassination."
Arturia glanced up sharply, unable to maintain her composure as the topic directly touched on one of her taboos. She cared greatly about Shirou, and knowing what had happened to him as a child, and having seen him always living on his own in their youth, she couldn't remain unaffected.
"What happened?" She demanded.
"They died," Fafnir said simply. "The Ashton's artificial anchor had always been tied with Lord Ashton's human family of magi. Kill them and all their descendants and it doesn't matter if the artificial anchor was repaired. It simply wouldn't work. And that's exactly what happened."
Fafnir smiled.
"Lord Ashton's wife and human relatives were all killed in Lord Ashton's absence, resulting in him having no choice but to seal Agatha and have the both of them bridge the hole punctured to the Reverse Side. The cost was Lord Ashton's life as he could no longer use the artificial anchor that had started it all to fix things. However, it would seem that not all of Lord Ashton's descendants have perished. A child lives."
"Shirou," Arturia muttered lowly.
"The young Ashton's existence is a blessing yet not at the same time. Due to his existence, the phantasmal species such as myself were once again able to bypass the blockade Lord Ashton had erected through the artificial anchor. But on the other hand, his life signifies the chance of utilizing the artificial anchor to permanently seal the hole."
Artruria glared at Fafnir, but couldn't understand it. What point was there in Fafnir telling her these things?
Evidently, Fafnir had been waiting for such a response.
"You don't understand why I'm telling you this?" Fafnir leered, the stench of his breath permeating the room. "Then what if I told you that the cost of sealing the hole created by the Ashton artificial anchor means the loss of your friend?"
She paled.
It was almost like someone had punched her in the gut as an involuntary fear nearly overwhelmed her. She had never been terrified of anything before, but just thinking about losing Shirou caused a hopeless despondence to emerge from within her, making her lips quivered. To her, his importance may very well mean more to her than saving the country. It was a feeling she was almost certain of.
But could she truly believe the words of an enemy?
"I-I don't believe you," she stammered, visibly affected; the pallor of her skin far from its healthy shade.
Fafnir laughed darkly.
"It matters not if you believe me," he said, eyes narrowing in the direction of another tunnel before it swept its large tail and flung Arturia into a remote corner.
"See and hear it for yourself."
To say he was panicking was an understatement.
"Arturia where are you!"
He continued yelling out while searching through the rubble of the collapsed floor. She had been right behind him moments prior before the two had fallen, and now they were separated behind several layers of rock with him having no idea which direction to search for her in.
It was enough to leave him in a fluster no matter how he thought about it. She was the world to him and just thinking that she may be buried beneath several tons of debris left him beyond uneasy.
"Damn it," he cursed, tracing a Noble Phantasm, but thinking better of using it when he considered that he was still within a cave.
Besides, blasting away in any direction may very well jeopardize Arturia should she get caught in the explosion.
In the end, what was all his skill and experience supposed to amount to in this situation?
At his wits end and growing more and more desperate, a soft voice called out to him from the dark.
"She's alright," the voice spoke. "I noticed her land safely in another part of the cave before she moved away from the shadows and out of my sight."
He startled as the voice sounded, but quickly knew who was speaking to him from the tone.
It was Agatha. The woman who would probably berate him should he openly thank her for her assistance.
She didn't reveal herself, but he could feel that she was present within the looming shadows, crossing her arms at him and waiting for him to get a move on. However, he was reluctant.
"Are you certain that she's not here?" He pressed.
He heard her clicking her tongue, but she did elaborate; although, without masking her annoyance.
"Yes," she drawled. "Now can we go? There's a tunnel leading to an inner cavern over there and even from here you should be able to feel that draconic aura."
He considered it. Being as he was sure that Arturia landed in the opposite direction, from him, she should be safe long enough for him and Agatha to deal with the dragon. And by then, the danger would long since have passed.
Besides, Agatha was right. The intensity of the aura emanating from the tunnel was such that the Dragon Slaying Swords within his armoury were already vying for release. However, he couldn't trace them at the moment lest he alert the dragon due to the anti-dragon properties of the swords.
A moment later, he began moving in the direction of the tunnel, feeling that Agatha was trailing him all the while.
"Why ae you here?" He ended up asking. "Didn't you say you were preventing anymore phantasmal species from crossing over?"
Agatha grunted in the dark, her lithe figure moving forward with a grace and elegance that made her giddy after numerous years in confinement. She was barefoot, wearing a body-length black gown that fluttered with every step.
"Fafnir is of the Millennium Rank," she replied. "Facing him alone may not be in your favour, but the two of us together along with your abilities should be able to handle him."
He nodded, unsure of what Agatha's capabilities were yet trusting her due to her confidence.
With the pace the two were going at, they soon arrived at the cavern illuminated by light where Fafnir had long since been waiting, wings outstretched and lumbering body poised forward, visage ferocious.
No words were spoken at that moment.
There wasn't a need to, to understand the motives of both parties.
One wished to remain free from the shackles of the world, while the other wished to return the balance to what it once was.
Conflict was unavoidable, so when they met, it was undoubtedly in the guise of enemies.
Fafnir roared, the sound deafening as it reverberated within the space, the inflow of dragon force quaking the ground and shattering the overhead stalactites.
It was a power spoken of in legend. They who were independent from nature yet possessed intelligence.
Dragons, the epitome of might in all mythologies spanning across the world. The Pinnacle of Phantasmal Species.
Magical energy was generated with every breath, their lungs acting as spiritual worlds. The thickness of their hides alone could rival the strongest of any defense with only the sharpest of swords and weapons able to pierce through its scales. Even then, the action was difficult; for no Dragon would willingly put themselves in danger, their claws and teeth an effective deterrent, less so then their breath however.
Red Dragons breathed fire, Blue Dragons thunder, and in Fafnir's case, he was a Black Dragon.
Putrid acid left his maw, encompassing a focused portion of the cavern immediately.
And in response came a single voice.
"Rho Aias!"
The shield of the Hero of the Trojan War, Aias the Great.
The Seven Rings that Cover the Fiery Heavens erupted forth.
Seven glowing petals materialized in the air; seven lines of defense emitting a presence distinct to Noble Phantasms and blocking Fafnir's breath in its path. Not only stunning the Dragon, but causing Agatha to marvel at the feat of her contracted master.
Fafnir's eyes widened in alarm not only because his attack had been stopped, but because from behind the shield of Aias emerged two distinct auras unique to Dragon Slaying Swords.
Ascalon, the Sword of Saint George.
And most unbearable of all, Balmung, the Sword of the Hero Siegfried.
"As if I'd let you!" Fafnir was quick to act, funnelling more power into his attack and watching as the smoke of his poisonous breath moved around the petals of the shield.
Agatha had no choice but to grab Shirou in the midst of his Tracing and disappear into the shadows, emerging in another part of the room where the light of the cavern didn't reach. Unfortunately, Fafnir had had enough with playing around after understanding Shirou capability to Trace Dragon Slaying weapons, the main weakness of all dragon-type phantasmal species.
His poisonous breath swiftly shifted from a focused attack into a wide area that nearly encompassed the entire cavern.
"This won't work," Agatha observed. "He won't let you get close and the poison is even worse. Your body may not be able to endure a couple breaths."
He nodded gravely.
"Can you stop his breath attack?" He asked.
Agatha fell silent for a moment, but nodded her head. The power she had gained should be sufficient enough for such a task.
"I should be able to, but that's as much as I can guarantee unless supplied with more magical energy."
Conveying her thoughts, Agatha moved out.
The shadows bent to her will, writhing tendrils that rose from the darkest corners of the room.
"I am the dark itself, the Lord of Shadows," she muttered lowly, black beasts forming from the ether, red irises glowing eerily. "The emptiness hears and obeys, devouring all within a bottomless void."
One by one, the beasts began to howl, maws opening before drawing in the poison of Fafnir's breath and forcing the dragon to panic as once more the presence of Dragon Slaying Weapons permeated within the room. Agatha herself did not remain idle, she bound Fafnir with her tendrils of shadow the moment she saw him attempting to launch a gale force of magical wind with his wings. The strain caused her to pant, the depletion of her reserves making her yell out.
Even if Dragons were the pinnacle of Phantasmal Species, Elementals were on a similar league of their own, able to tap into the power of the world using their innate ability.
The will to configure nature and the world around them, making it their own.
A Reality Marble.
And hers was a vision of a bottomless abyss, yet due to her weakened state, she was limited to controlling mere shadows and specters.
"Hurry, I can't hold him for long!" Agatha warned.
"NOOOO!" Fafnir fumed, gnashing his teeth while madly struggling against his bindings.
The unbridled magical power stored within Fafnir's body began to go berserk, pulsating as Fafnir furiously thrashed and writhed. The enitre cavern began to shake, trails of dust and grime falling from the ceiling like brown snow.
And it was then that all felt it distinctly.
An all-encompassing ambience that voraciously devoured the draconic aura in the air.
Swords to slay Dragons.
"Ascalon," Shirou completed on one hand, and on the other, "Balmung."
For a moment, Fafnir froze petrified, staring at the two blades.
Not again. It didn't want to die again.
Those were the only thoughts in Fafnir's mind as he struggled harder, roaring out when it noticed Shirou's movements.
"Do you not know what you're doing, Ashton?!" Fafnir yelled in a panic as Shirou quickly approached. "You gain nothing from completing the magic seal on the Ashton slate but your own demise."
Shirou froze momentarily, a flicker of guilt appearing in Agatha's eyes.
"What do you mean?" He couldn't help but ask in the tense silence.
"You don't even know?" Fafnir said incredulously, fishing for any way out of his predicament. "When were you going to tell him, Agatha?" He pressed.
"I was planning to, but that doesn't mean that the result is guaranteed," Agatha responded curtly.
"And you think that fixing a hole between layers in the world is without consequences? You're only fooling yourself!" Fafnir's voice rose, noticing that Shirou was mere seconds away from arriving in striking range. "Tell it to him clearly, Agatha! He too shall be brought to the Reverse Side upon the Ashton slate's activation and sealing!"
Fafnir's revelation stunned him, inadvertently drawing his gaze towards Agatha for clarification.
She pursed her lips, eyes closing hard before she opened them.
"It's not guaranteed," she stressed again.
Still, the admission was more than enough for him to understand, more than enough for someone else listening in to understand. And it was something that struck her to her core.
Agatha had a pained expression.
"Regardless of the consequences later," Agatha rasped as she struggled to maintain her bindings over Fafnir. "If we don't complete the slate, then more Phantasmal Species may return from the other side, but this itself isn't the actual problem. It's the possible reaction of the growing collective unconsciousness of humanity."
She paused as she stared at him, using a term he was too familiar with, for it had reached out to him at the end of his life in the future.
"The Counter Force."
His expression hardened. Although the Counter Force was an aspect of the will of humanity, it didn't mean that it shared human sentiments. It didn't care how many died so long as the problem was dealt with either through force or an alternative means.
If a hole leading to the Reverse Side were to open in Britain, then it wouldn't be a surprise if later historians would date the destruction of the British Iles as a part of history. Although he didn't wish to ever part with Arturia, the Counter Force was a direct danger to her brought about with his introduction to the timeline. He couldn't allow it to affect her, and besides, like Agatha had said, the outcome resulting in completing the Ashton slate wasn't guaranteed.
So long as there was a chance, it was worth taking when the alternative was impossible for him to accept.
However, his reasoning was the opposite in someone else's mind who didn't know what the Counter Force represented. Instead, fixated on the sole fact that there was a good chance he would disappear from her life, she was beginning to panic in her anxiety.
As he stepped forward decisively, Balmung and Ascalon raised over his head, malice and impatience suffused Fafnir's eyes.
"Hurry, little whelp."
He didn't understand who the Dragon was referring to, but it didn't matter as he slashed down.
Yet a familiar sword stopped his own, a face looking panic stricken, conflicted, and on the verge of tears halting him in his tracks.
"I-I don't want this," Arturia said, voice and expression breaking. "L-Lets just go home and ask Merlin for help."
Thanks for reading!
P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious
Next update coming: Fate Stay Cooking - Correction, Fate:Kill miss read a poll