Fate-in time

92

There are times in a man's life where they reach a wall that seems impossible to overcome; that no matter how hard they try, or how much effort they put in, the wall just couldn't be toppled or bounded over.
T

his was one such time in Kay's life, but there was absolutely no way he could just accept this as it was.
He'd been cocky once, almost arrogant to think that he was something of prodigy in his earlier years of knighthood and tutelage to his father Sir Ector, but he was no longer that pig-headed. He knew his limitations, strengths, and weaknesses, in order to make the best decisions in battle. This was the sign of a competent knight, but a competent knight wasn't what was needed right now.
We need a Hero. Someone who could single-handedly move the opinions of the masses and the warriors, bidding them to remain steadfast…not someone like me.
He could be given orders, or a set of instructions, and he could guarantee completion even if he had to think outside the box, but this was different.
He wasn't Arturia, nor was he Shirou.
He didn't have Arturia's natural charisma, nor did he have the faith others had in Shirou as the King and heir of a once prominent ducal family.
He was just Kay, son of Ector. An outstanding noble knight through and trough.
This was what made his decision so simple.
He'd once individually asked both Shirou and Arturia what drove them, and gave them such determination and grit to shoulder through whatever obstacles come their way. As it would turn out, their reasons weren't too different from each other to begin with.
"I want her to be happy."/ "I want to support him."
For such a simple reason, those two could exhibit almost inhuman tenacity and determination. Let it be said that both he and Arturia started in the same place, with the same conditions, and the same opportunities. Of the two, he was the one that was more skilled.
Arturia had never been able to beat him in swordplay even since young. This didn't change even after she grew up, and it only became worse when she thought Shirou had died. Things changed the moment Shirou returned though, because Arturia became an entirely different person. Not wishing to experience the same pain again, she trained and trained even in secret, and could now defeat him in swordplay with little effort.
The little sibling that he could always toy with during spars became a tough adversary who ruthlessly exploited any opening he'd make.
It was an eye opener.
Unlike Arturia, his efforts to improve just weren't there, and low and behold, Arturia had long since left him behind in capability.
Still, the crux of the point he was making, was evident. If Arturia could do it, then why couldn't he?
Of course, skill couldn't make up for the difference in magical ability, but Merlin had also taught him a thing or two on the topic so he could at least enhance himself if need be.
People could change.
A knight wasn't what was needed right now, so he'd change himself to fit the required role for the sake of that same basic reason that pushed Shirou and Arturia forward.
I want her to be happy.
Confidence and overwhelming drive suddenly forced away any doubts he may be feeling. Was this what it felt like for Shirou and Arturia?
"Kay!"
A voice broke him out of his stupor, and he turned to face the entrance of his tent where Natalie barged in all anxious and worried. She was looking at him who was now fully armoured and unrecognizable, and couldn't help but purse her lips.
"You're crazy," she whispered at first, before all but shouting. "You can't do this! Take off that armour, we'll think of another way!"
What other way? There was no time, nor was there an alternative.
Words couldn't express the effect Shirou and Arturia's absence was having on the Saxon camp supporting Natalie. However, it wasn't as if Kay couldn't understand their panic and impatience. No man or woman could possibly keep still knowing that their children were in danger or missing.
Still, without their famed warrior and Valkyrie blessed by the Gods, Saxon morale had taken a nosedive with even people like Gale and Edgar wearing downtrodden expressions.
"They need a warrior?" He slowly fastened the straps of his Saxon armour and readied his sword and shield. "I'll give them a warrior."
Right outside, an open field was being prepared while an army of Saxons stood on the opposite side waiting.
If Kay wanted to inspire confidence, then he needed to replicate the feat Shirou had done prior and subdue the army with just himself. It was no wonder Natalie had rushed in looking bedraggled and at her wits end. No sane man could even hope to think that they'd come out on top in these circumstances.
All that worry, and all that concern was being directed at him.
She didn't know that her actions were only fueling his determination. When was the last time he'd ever had a woman look at him like that and fret over him the way she was despite their differences?
He shook his head when Natalie implored him to reconsider.
"Your soldiers rely on the strength of a supposed God and his helper, but I will show them that Man can be just as strong, and battle will be the fairest comparison."
"Kay-"
He stopped her from speaking by looking her right in the eyes. She knows better than anyone that is the only sure method. "I will win," he said without fanfare nor misplaced arrogance.
"How can you be so sure."
"Just a feeling," he replied.
"Y-You…"
He stared at her, taking everything in; from her distressed appearance, to the small things like how she'd moved to block the exit with her body despite knowing it would do her no good.
Once again, she was trying to save him.
This wasn't just about peace.
He thought of Natalie, and of the time he'd met her while captured in Saxon territory. For his sake, she'd broke him out of confinement and fell out of favour with her own father. Of course, he later learned that she'd done this to return a favour from long, long ago when he'd let her and her little sister free in the battle of the river Gleinn. However, he grew caught up in her own charms.
This may be a bit rude to Natalie, but she didn't exactly come off as a noble. He'd realized this point the moment she'd waded through dirt and mud, sprawled with him under the cover of long grass to avoid detection from pursuers. She was the one who thought of it too.
She really was one of a kind, of course, the fact that she was still terrified of Shirou needed some work, but that could be arranged.
While Shirou and Arturia handled matters in the kingdom, he'd deal with things here as a proud elder brother of the Queen.
He coaxed Natalie to let him pass her, and then steadily made his way to the prepared open field.
Victory was all that he could see.
A man must fight his own battles and prove himself…especially if he fancies a lady beyond his station.
Shirou looked down at himself to see that his hands were trembling, his muscles tense, and his breathing tight and restrained.
When was the last time he'd ever felt so frustrated, so angry both at another and at himself?
It had been a night since Morgan had come and gone, and he, Arturia, and Emily had decided to take shelter in the base camp to plan out a proper strategy on William's suggestion. However, this wasn't without difficulty as the news Emily had brought had been a difficult pill to swallow even for him.
The standards of Magi weren't something that he was unfamiliar with as he'd had dealing with them before. This only made the weight and validity of Emily's prior statements that much more severe.
Research materials related to Dragons without a doubt, were highly sought after and would temp any magus worth their salts, but this wasn't just a 'Dragon' that was being discussed here. It was Arturia; it was his children; it was Mordred who didn't even seem to have full control of herself due to Morgan's machinations. This made it all the worse. In order to make good on her promise to provide enough research material, there was no doubt that Morgan would start the reproductive process as soon possible.
How could he possibly remain sane, or composed when he considered what sort of atrocities may befall the people that he held dear? He was appalled at the very prospect that when he met Mordred next, she would have been defiled against her will. Further thoughts of what awaited his own children in the future as baby makers darkened his perception of the situation until it was just black.
Fast forward a few hours, and now it was day break.
He'd spent the night in a restless state half-asleep and half-awake, and he was now seated in a small office space inside the border stronghold. Across from him was Emily, and beside him was Arturia.
William had ordered breakfast to be made as soon as they'd woken up, so the table before them was packed with smoked bacon, eggs, and bread, but it was all left untouched. Arturia hardly ate anything, and Emily couldn't mask the unease and guilt she was feeling.
He'd informed Emily of what happened to the twins and Mordred's present status.
Emily was more than a little distraught when she realized how insensitive her words must have been considering the situation with Mordred and the twins. She couldn't look Arturia in the eyes, nor knew how to go about consoling her since she wouldn't be able to understand.
What mother could possibly take the news that their children may be getting experimented on well? Emily herself knew she'd probably go insane.
Arturia was a strong woman of upright character and principles, but she was just barely keeping herself together.
Said strong woman wasn't saying anything, but the heavy bags under her eyes told the story of a sleepless night; the red around her eyelids indicating how often she'd likely cried in silence.
The rage, anxiety, and desperation had boiled down to a helpless simmer as reality reared its ugly head, because no matter what, she wasn't there when she was needed the most. Blindly rushing towards Camelot now and acting on her emotions wouldn't do her any good because she would still be too late. Her eyes looked dead, listless.
Shirou sighed in this somber air, but he couldn't bring himself to see any positives to try and lighten it. He was mad, more so than he thought himself capable of, and it was subtly altering his decisions.
His hands balled tightly into fists, the sound of his teeth gritting reverberating in his head.
Mordred had been there right in front of him, terrified and alone, then there was also the uncertainty regarding his children.
It was true that the secret Morgan had divulged to him had him reeling from alarm and disbelief, but to the point that he couldn't reasonably do anything? He could make all kinds of reasons and excuses such as Mordred's life being in danger, but surely there had to have been something he could have done?
His strongest aspect was his versatility. There was literally no situation in which he could be considered under prepared, as his Reality Marble made that point moot. So, then why? Why did things turn out the way they did?
The very same scenario played endlessly in his mind, until he came to a single conclusion…he'd hesitated.
A part of him felt sick of himself. He knew what outcome would lay in store for Morgan if she'd been unable to escape, Arturia would rip into her viciously and she would die no questions asked. The fact that he didn't feel quite so outraged over this outcome spoke volumes for his opinion about Morgan, but if what she said was true, then it merited an answer.
A proof of sorts for verification, and that's why he'd hesitated.
Dead men tell no tales, and knowing Morgan, she wouldn't have admitted to anything even in death.
As this dilemma had warred within him and dulled his senses, Morgan had used the opportunity to escape just when he'd convinced himself to keep her around.
The cynical part of him insisted that everything she told him was a lie, but he knew well enough how to differentiate between truth and deceit. It was precisely because what she said had a grain of truth, that hesitation was born and exploited.
Shirou was just enraged that Mordred was the one who would suffer for his mistake as she remained under Morgan's hands.
With Shirou, Arturia, and Emily sitting inside the same room, it should have been a harmonious reunion between childhood friends, and yet no one was speaking for the longest time.
The steam wafting up from the freshly cooked breakfast had turned cold long ago. No one had touched the food at all aside from a few courtesy bites to stave off hunger.
Finally, after another long bout of silence, Emily could bear this oppressive atmosphere no longer. She crossed her legs, cleared her throat, and sat up with an assertive attitude she wasn't really feeling.
"What do you both plan to do now?" Emily shifted her gaze from Arturia, to Shirou, then back before tucking several strands of her bangs behind her left ear. The action served to cool her thoughts as a trace of familiarity was born from the action. "The present state of Camelot's power structure is unknown, and the best approach is to gather your supporters…I'm sorry to say, but inactivity is the worst thing we can do right now."
Arturia bit down on her lips; her uneasiness evident in the way she kept glancing in the direction of the stables. She clearly didn't have to be told twice. If not for everyone's intervention the other day, she'd already be gone.
Clutching tightly to the baby bundles in her hands, Arturia said nothing while looking like someone had just stabbed her in the heart.
A trace of empathy crossed Emily's features for Arturia, but she shook her head and maintained a sense of propriety. Wallowing in things that had already happened won't solve anything.
The best peace of mind can only come from a sense of control and stability. With no plan, and no reasonable method to go about it, there really wasn't much room for a peace of mind. Then what should be done?
Having been taught in house Barthomeloi, Emily had developed a stern tolerance to focus on the crux of any issue. "It's likely that Morgan has turned Camelot's central powers against you. In your return to Camelot, you will face not only Morgan, but your own countrymen who would only be following orders. Have you considered this point yet, Arturia?"
Arturia glanced down at her feet and shuddered before Emily continued laying down hard facts.
"You can't just expect them to let you pass upon seeing you. They have their own families and well beings to consider, and they'd have no idea about Morgan's involvement. Would you really be able to cut them down if they insisted that they take you into custody?"
Emily's words were like nails pinning Arturia in place because her sense of righteousness and duty were clashing against the full weight of her emotions and maternal instincts. Her hands were placed over her lap, rubbing at her thighs incessantly as she couldn't keep herself still.
This was when Shirou reached out and interlocked the fingers of his right hand with Arturia's own. "I'll handle it. I promise."
He squeezed Arturia's hand reassuringly, but she was too distraught to reciprocate the gesture and remained spiritless and drained.
The pang of guilt Shirou felt at his own mistake never felt so strong. It was indescribable.
"How do you intend to handle it?" Emily interjected. She obviously didn't like paying the role of a realist since she appeared utterly stressed, but she didn't want to see Shirou and Arturia endangered either.
What was he supposed to do?
A part of Shirou already seemed to know, but he desperately held on and waited to see if Emily had a better method.
Emily must have been able to sense what he was thinking, because she made a face and regrettably shied away from his gaze, a frown marring her features.
It was the last straw that dashed away any hopes of a more peaceful resolution.
Gradually, he understood that there was no other method, and as such, his expression grew incredibly detached.
He pursed his eyes shut for a long moment, and then he let out a sigh.
"Do you know the magi that have allied themselves with Morgan?" His tone was cold to the point it was noticeable.
Arturia glanced up at him, and felt like she was looking at a different person. Her heart lurched as a feeling of confusion assaulted her. She was already reeling from the situation regarding her kids, but now it even felt like the Shirou she knew was being taken away from her.
The involuntary reflex to console him and ask what was wrong surfaced strongly from within her, but in the end, her anxiety won out. Although it looked like Shirou was changing, Arturia wasn't stupid enough not to comprehend that it must have something to do with a plan that could aid their children and Mordred.
Her maternal instincts superseded her worries, and the hand she was about to raise and reach towards Shirou fell back onto her lap.
"I have a list of names and cursory information," Emily frowned while producing said list. She too could sense a noticeable change with Shirou, but didn't dwell too much on it. "This list was incredibly hard to create. Although House Barthomeloi enjoys beneficial treatment and resources in the Mages Association, it doesn't have enough clout to flaunt over the basic principles regarding magi. Directly inquiring information about magi belonging to a different family and their type of craft is something of a taboo. The most that this list has are descriptions of appearance, and names gathered on the premise of 'building relations' should they be recognized."
Emily offered the list in her hands to Shirou who silently took it and began perusing through the names and details, burning it all into memory before stowing it away into the narrow fold of his tunic.
"If I make a suggestion?" Emily spoke hesitantly.
This caught both Shirou and Arturia's attention, and they both glanced at Emily hopefully.
Please. Don't look at me like that, Emily couldn't bear the weight of their expectation, but had no choice to continue.
"In order to solve the potential rebellion brewing in the kingdom, we need to rally the King's forces; those loyal to you, and out of the reach of Morgan's allied magi who could use hypnotism to alter their views. Fortunately, many of Camelot's strongest knights and individuals have been sent out on border missions far away from the influence of the enemy magi. It may all be coincidence, but I can't help but praise the wisdom of the man in charge of Camelot's administration. It was almost like he knew what would befall the kingdom and had taken steps to make ample preparation."
Shirou and Arturia shared a look, fully knowing who Emily was referring too, but growing increasingly somber when they recalled the bits and pieces of the things Mordred had said prior.
Heedless to what was on Shirou and Arturia's thoughts, Emily continued.
"Sir Tristan, Palamid, the Son of Wolfred, Lancelot, Gaheris, and Bedivere, are among many knights that were kept out of Morgan's reach. It should be a priority to gather them in order to combat against Camelot's stationed army." Emily tapped her finger impatiently over her crossed arms. "House Gwent can serve as the rallying point where we can send out various messengers warning them about the changes in Camelot. It will then be possible to lay out a siege, which will limit the number of civilian causalities since we can ferry them to safety before formal battles are declared. Moreover, the hesitation in striking down fellow countrymen will echo on both sides, further reducing the chance of high causalities."
It was a solid and conventional plan making use of all available resources on hand, but there was one point that immediately stuck out.
"D-Do you realize how long this would take?" Arturia raised the matter tentatively. It was no simple feat to rally a substantial army so quickly in the current era. Then there were problems with logistics and supply lines.
Emily flinched. "A month." She gave her best estimate.
Shirou's expression darkened, a frown marring his features.
No. No it's too long.
"It's a good plan, but I can't follow through with it exactly as you've detailed." Shirou stood up and began heading over to the opposite side of the room where his hunting leathers and light armour were organized into a neat pile. "The time required to gather everything for a proper confrontation is too costly, and by then, we would have given Morgan enough leeway to do whatever she wants."
He slipped on his armour over his thin tunic and tightened the straps in place. He didn't bother picking up a sword, shield, or any weapon, because he himself was the strongest weapon he had available.
"Mordred and likely my own kids are in her hands." His shoulders trembled when he admitted this, before that same cold light from earlier glinted over his features. "I won't allow her the time nor peace of mind to think of even doing anything to them."
Arturia stood up abruptly, seemingly understanding what he intended to do, but Emily stood up quicker and called out. "What do you intend to do?"
Arturia paused in her movements, both she and Emily looking towards him.
"The whole point of why we stopped Arturia from leaving to Camelot the other day was to come up with a viable method to this madness. And you're just ignoring it?!" Emily seemed to be at her wits end, a hand almost pulling at her hair in frustration. "So, I ask you again what do you intend to do by ignoring all reason and making that same mistake?!"
Shirou took in a breath, and then let it out, the chill in his eyes causing both women to falter.
"…What I should have done from the start," he answered in a detached tone.
If conventional means won't work, then he'd make his own way.
He shook his head. "I will go alone while the two of you make your preparations according to what Emily said. I'll buy us the required time, and will meet up with you both in a month to bring what's left of the kingdom back into order."
What's left of the kingdom? The exact words caused alarms to ring in Emily's mind.
"Even if you're strong, you can't just go alone! Morgan would have made preparations! She-"
"Doesn't know the full extent of what I'm capable of," he cut in. Suddenly, he stared right into Arturia and Emily's eyes. "You forget Emily, Arturia. Who am I?"
There was a deeper meaning in the statement, but something told both women that this wasn't what he was asking.
"You are the King." / "You are my husband," they answered regardless.
He nodded, resolve cutting away any hint of doubt.
"Then believe in me."
He left without another word.
-Three days later.
This was it. The time had come.
After making use of the past three days to enter Camelot unnoticed, Shirou could finally see the ivory walls of the distant kingdom over the next hill.
If one were to look at his current appearance, it would unrecognizable from the lofty silk and cloth he used to wear to give the regality of a King. He wore a dirtied brown cloak made of rough wool, and beneath wasn't his regular hunting armour, but a grungy tunic stained with sweat and smelling of hay.
With the hood pulled up over his head, and his gaze constantly lowered over the road, he looked like a homeless man down on his luck. Those that passed him by hardly gave him a glance, and those that did only had pity in their eyes, but didn't do much else. Thus, was the nature of humanity. Unless it was directly related to them and their wellbeing, the choice to invest themselves in others experiencing hardship, was one that was easily overlooked.
If one were to stare closely at him however, they'd see strong arms, a fit body, and an unrelenting gaze filled with purpose.
He walked in silence over a dirt road where passing merchants and civilians went about their travels. He exploited the way others avoided him, and continued on his path unhindered. Not even Morgan's familiars that must be overseeing Camelot's surroundings over head would ever be able to distinguish him as 'King Ashton,' in his current state.
The fact that he wasn't using any sort of magecraft left Morgan unable to detect him at all, and if she did, it wasn't like he wasn't without a means to obscure her view.
It was a game of cat and mouse.
However, he wasn't exactly the mouse in this case. He could sense where Morgan's familiars congregated and consciously avoided those areas out of precaution. All would come in due time.
As soon as Camelot's walls came in sight, he took the time to sit down by the road side and just observe, taking everything in. From a third-person perspective, nothing much has changed within the kingdom.
The people were milling about their days, and merchants and store owners were hawking their wares to fellow passersby even without yet setting up shop. They were all so easy-going, happy, ignorant.
All these people were innocent of any crime, but in the following days, they would be subject to the circumstances between two siblings possessing royal blood and the rights to the throne.
How could a mere position be worth jeopardizing the safety of the kingdom's citizens?
It just didn't make any sense no matter how Shirou thought on it, but these matters were forcibly suppressed.
Warmth had long since left his features.
It was an expression that Arturia and everyone else had never before seen.
He'd come today with only a single purpose, and there was no changing it after it had been decided.
"Did you hear?"
His ears perked up to the sound of round-side chatter. A group of merchants travelling with a caravan had just passed him by. The man driving the wagon filled with the merchant's supplies was the one who spoke offhandedly.
"We're getting a new King."
"What rubbish is that? Who dares try to usurp King Ashton? That man is the man who will bring our kingdom to prosperity. Look at those Saxon bastards! Do they dare to invade with our King at the ready?"
"It's lady Mordred though. She's brash, but her heart's in the right place. I have no problems with her."
"Ooh, if it's lady Mordred the Fair, then I can accept that. She beat up a couple ruffians trying to make trouble for me one time. But why the sudden change? I'm sure that not everyone will agree to it."
"After the King's venture against the Saxons, they may have run into some issues, and King Ashton personally handed down Caliburn to Mordred in order to succeed him."
"Hmmm."
The voices faded into meaningless chatter. Shirou took the opportunity to note down any pieces of vital intelligence he overheard. He did so for another hour, sitting completely still in one place while appearing vacant.
Some took pity on him and one or two travellers had left him pieces of stale bread thinking that he was starving. He thanked them, and stowed away the food, but he still lingered in place until he heard a single piece of gossip that agitated him to no end.
"Lady Mordred's getting married to Duke Owel Rivers. They said that they wanted a small ceremony in order to speed things along. Did you know? Duke Owel's has spent an exorbitant amount of funds on organizing the bridal chambers. He's clearly excited, but who wouldn't be when its known that Lady Mordred is related to the Queen? She's already a beauty, but when she matures, she'll likely be stunning."
Shirou did his best to remain unaffected, but the veins that popped over his skin were telling.
"And Lady Mordred agreed to all this? The last time someone tried to flirt with her, word is that she grew too flustered and punched him right in the face before running off and calling him an idiot! She can't be easily tamed."
Innocent Mordred. What horrors are you facing right now?
Shirou had heard enough. If he was already resolved before, now he was resolute.
Without uttering a word, he stood up and maneuvered himself far from Camelot, and in a location beyond the sight of Morgan's familiars which he could smell through their magic scent.
He ended up stopping upon a large hill overlooking the entire kingdom of Camelot. The grass and reeds were swaying around him, the gentle winds panning out into an idyllic panorama of peace and calm.
This peace was going to shatter, and he would be the root cause.
If you asked him what he valued more in this life compared to the last, Arturia and his family was no doubt at the top of the list. Of course, it was regretful about what may occur to those that may get dragged into the conflict, but Arturia had already endured and experienced a tragedy once, he would never let her experience another.
For the sake of a few loved ones, he was willing to go any distance.
It was entirely contradictory to the ideals that he'd carried and shouldered in the past. However, hadn't that path already ended when it led him here?
So, just this once, what was wrong in acting on the emotions within him and being human?
Morgan was taking things too far, and had pushed him too strongly.
He'd need to give her a warning.
His eyes hardened; a sigh escaping his lips. Circuit-like patterns began shining beneath his skin, carving their way up over his entire body and framing over his left eye.
The energy required for this would be immense, but as he was now, it was within his capabilities.
"Agatha," he called out, his left arm outstretching before him while supported by his right hand at the elbow.
["As you will."]
The nature of his magic within him began to assume on another hue as his Reality Marble stirred and thrummed. Deep within the vast armoury filled with an uncountable amount of steel, Agatha's shadow lingered upon the center point of the world where a slate took on the form of a pillar reaching towards the sky.
Ever since the events of the past, Agatha managed the Ashton Anchor within Shirou's Reality Marble as she steadily recovered from her injuries and exhaustion.
What Shirou couldn't comprehend in order to use the artificial anchor within him, Agatha would supplement. She hovered in the air before drawing closer and pressing her hand upon the tower.
["Establishing contact."]
How long had it been?
A distant nostalgia glimmered over Agatha's expression as ripples formed over the area she touched. She grew solemn before allowing herself to meld with the tower before her. Her hand sunk into the tower, fully knowing what it entailed.
["Connection established. Deploying Anchor."]
Her voice lost all emotion, her expression gradually turning blank. She'd become a conduit.
["Requesting approval?"]
"Granted." Shirou answered, already closing his eyes and conceptualizing an image in his mind.
["Limiters released."]
A low hiss escaped the tower in his inner world, a halo of energy thrumming up and down the base before expanding outwards and breaking into branches of light that seeped into the ground.
Magic was the product of mystery and legend. By right, it was the domain of Elementals and Deities. The only reason mankind grew to possess it was through the miracle of the Grand Caster, Solomon.
["Activating sequence, verse one through seven:"]
At its base form, magic was simply another means to actualize a concept or story, and make it into a reality. None encapsulated this aspect quite like Elementals and True Ancestors with their Marble Phantasms.
At this moment, the Ashton Anchor began to hum and reverberate with its awakening.
["Open a path; a road that stretches beyond the horizon and towards the unreachable."]
Agatha began diverting the energy of the anchor for Shirou's use.
["The winds billow their ascent."]
["The waters give credence."]
["The earth sings its approval."]
["The dark awaits its coming."]
["And fire ties it all together."]
Sigils in the form of locks began to open and shine over the tower within Shirou's inner world, dazzling in their splendor and presence.
["Thus, it is said in the beginning that there can be no progress without the first warmth of flame."]
Agatha's voice continued, driving the central energies of the anchor leading to the Reverse Side towards a focal point that could be drawn from at will.
["So, let embers fan into the flames that open the way."]
["Let the layers unravel."]
Agatha closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she was no longer looking at the tower, but up towards the sky at the very reflection of Shirou's soul.
["For an heir of fire stands here."]
As soon as this final verse was spoken, Shirou felt that the sheer level of magical energy coursing through him was almost unbearable. The air around him was distorting from the pressure, his eyes shining a vibrant blue.
The time was at hand.
If Morgan thought that she could just brazenly keep doing what she wanted uninhibited, then she was in for a rude awakening.
Steel that knows no feeling, nor attachment. I will be the sword that strikes down the enemy before me.
Sparks ignited over his skin, crackling and singeing the grass by his feet before expanding outward into winding arcs. The reeds began to sway, the rustling of leaves echoing out all around him as all the energy siphoned from the Ashton Anchor congealed over his outstretched left palm.
Thunder reverberated in the skies, singing the melody of this clash of wills.
The congealed energy over his palm levitated before shooting up into the clouds where a blinding light exploded.
O Sword; blessed sword; become the harbinger of peril that totes and judges the line between the just and the corrupt!
From the clouds themselves, a monolithic sword gradually formed and pierced through the veil of white. It hovered over the kingdom, unable to be ignored in its sheer size capable of flattening all beneath it.
A sword of Damocles.
It was a conceptual Noble Phantasm created from the renown of an ancient philosopher detailing the ever-present danger by those in positions of power. Its only prerequisite was that the recipient must be in a position of high authority. Once this sword was activated, it would never fail to drop upon its target.
Screams and shouts of alarm instantly came from within Camelot's walls, the looming shadow of the gargantuan sword stretching beyond the distant hills.
One wrong move, and the sword would fall. Packed with the full brunt of the energy Agatha had siphoned to him from the Anchor in his Reality Marble, once it dropped, the resulting explosion would be beyond anything imaginable. He couldn't begin to fathom the type of stress this situation would have on Morgan.
"You better think things through Morgan," his features grew tight, heavy due to the nature of who he was holding hostage in order to restrain Morgan's actions.
If anything happened to Mordred or his children…
Well, nothing is more dangerous than a capable man without anything left to lose.
The position of King is meaningless if there was no longer a kingdom to rule.
He collapsed onto his knees, panting for breath from the exertion.
Agatha would maintain the construct, leaving him the ability to freely maneuver around. There was only one thing left to do. He picked himself up through sheer force of will.
He had a month to stall for and terrorize his foes.
He recalled the list of names Emily had provided him while a ruthless glint appeared in his eyes.
Let the Hunt begin.
Thanks for reading and thanks to my newest patrons: Sixrei, Lam, Cody H, and Firescout!
I have a new novel out and the link is below for Survivor's Log: Reflections. Samples can be read at Fiction Press, and the Paper back is also available now.
Next update: Fate Kill
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Book links:
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New Book: Out on Amazon (Remove dash on link)
Survivor's Log Reflection: Amazon.c-om/dp/B08VDDGN7Z?