The moonlight filtered through oak trees and over the hidden glade deep within a forest.
The glade was not secret to many people who had lived in the woods for generations, but they were well known to those few chosen by the inhabitants to be among them.
It was a small glade with slight distinguishing features, except that it had been hidden away behind one of the thickest oaks in the whole forest. If a person were looking closely enough into any clearing in the wooded area, they would see what looked like people with beautiful wings excluding mesmerizing auras.
Gathered in a circle were the most powerful faerie lords and ladies of this realm.
They were gathered here on the crisis that troubled their faction for a year with no result of findings. Related to the Matter of Britain, this problem that stem from across lands came from another issue beforehand.
Almost twelve months ago, beneath the Earth's mundane ground, the tower of light that holds the reality of the World had pulsated brilliantly as if it were in the presence of the deceased King Arthur. Such sight had not occurred whilst staying motionless for the past thousand years.
Not only that, the same transpired on the sealed legendary artifacts of King Arthur, particularly the Holy Sword. The cause of this was unknown, so the protectors of these relics have agreed on a meeting every season.
The elders sat on their thrones looking down at the group of faeries responsible for the investigation of the problem. Their eyes were cold as ice, reflecting the light from above, making it appear that they had no pupils. The only color they displayed was greenish.
"You all know why we are here," said one of the Faerie Lords, his voice sounding cold, even dangerous, "from your faces, I suspect that your investigation came with no results?" He paused, allowing them time to come up with excuses.
They did nothing. Instead, they all bowed their heads in agreement. One after another, they raised their head to look at him, but he just remained stoic under the attention. After a while, they lowered their gaze again, some more slowly than others.
"We are sorry," A young faerie spoke up softly, her eyes cast downward, "we could find nothing. We apologize."
"What is done cannot be undone," Another elder, a lady, replied indifferently, before continuing, "We will continue with our work. But you all must keep a close eye on this phenomenon and gather more information, so that we may solve the problem sooner rather than later."
"We do not have the time to start again the investigation. We must deal with the problem of the Holy Lance ourselves. Not leaving our trust to children!" The elder from before pointed at the young faeries, causing them to cower.
"They are young and inexperienced, fellow elder. The new generations always have the potential to surpass us. That is why they took on this task to prove themselves. This decree is entrusted to us by the Lake Lady."
"That was the mistake made when our predecessors entrusted the mystic items to mortals and not to us. They are out of our hands now. We will deal with the Holy Lance as soon as possible, whether it takes today or now! I suggest that you do the same."
"Agreed," the other elders spoke simultaneously, causing the lady elder to glower at them.
"You are being harsh on your juniors, when you should encourage them. You bring shame to our kind." In the last part, the others look at her with surprise.
"Am I? We are the Council of Twilight, a gathering meant for the resurrection of Britain's King to return to the olden ages once again, not to let the humans' disgusting smoke-inducing technology sully the purity of our realm."
YOU ARE READING
Fate/Counter Order
FantasyA human reborn in the fire of corruption, grew with a body of steel, and be the fated Hero of Justice he was meant to be. Yet, he became the Counter Guardian as he was not meant to be. In the end times, the World did not survive an eldritch onslaugh...
