Heart of Iron (Fate AU)
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Chapter 10 - Interlude 1
Chapter 10 – Interlude 1
It was a warm autumn day, an unusual occurrence at this late into the year, and so, Queen of Skye took the opportunity to leave the confines of her castle – and an unreasonable amount of paperwork therein – to train her disciples by the shores of her isle. And no, Scathach wasn't avoiding her responsibilities, no matter how much the thought of spending endless hours on the never-shrinking mountain of parchment filled her with dread. She had her reputation to uphold and disciples to oversee. It was as crucial as managing her kingdom.
Yes, definitely, she nodded to herself as she leaned on her training spear.
She watched the warriors under her tutelage mingle. Twenty men of various ages, from young boys, barely into adulthood, to experienced veterans, with silver in their beards, exercised and conversed in small groups.
It was a break time, after all, a time for rest after hours of intense training.
Some spent that time reviewing what they had learned, practicing stances and techniques. Others simply talked with their friends, joking and laughing, allowing the sunny day to soothe their aching muscles.
The sound of conversations and waves gently lapping the shores of Skye on a pleasant autumn afternoon filled the air with a serene ambiance. It made her feel nostalgic for some reason. Vague impressions of happier times drifted through the back of her head, half-forgotten memories, making her chest tighten as if an invisible hand was squeezing her heart.
Scathach sighed, her eyes panning over the resting warriors. None of them approached her, kept away by an aura of wistfulness hanging about her shoulders. She wasn't tired, she could go days on end without rest, and this small amount of exercise didn't bother her at all, but she knew she wasn't a normal human.
With magic in her veins and a blessing of the fae upon her, she could consider herself special, for not many could boast of the same.
She was gifted, both by the circumstances of her birth and by various people throughout her life. She was royalty, and that alone put her above almost all other humans. Her talent with a spear was already considered legendary, even if she thought she worked just as hard as any other warrior for her skills. She received gifts from mortals and fairies alike.
A cherished princess.
Yet, for all her luck, tragedy always seemed to follow her. Good and bad in equal measure. She refused to believe in fate, but sometimes she wondered if the world was ruled by its unseen hand.
From the days of her childhood, when she lost her family and gained her teacher, to the wartorn days of her early rule. Again and again, she avoided death by the smallest of margins, always moving forward, battle after battle. Alone and with the help of others until Skye's shores turned red with blood, and none dared to challenge her anymore.
Even if some decisions haunted her to this day.
She glanced to the side, toward a cliff in the distance. A towering vertical wall of dark stone, overlooking the sea since ages past and casting a shadow at the gravel beach beneath.
But the shadow there was more than simple shade. A dark patch of wispy darkness lay there, like black oil seeping out of the earth. It hid from the sun, in dark places, in deep crevices, but she didn't need her eyes to see it.
Scathach could feel it.
A faint connection, barely noticeable. But that 'shadow' wasn't alone. All across Skye, shadows gathered, trickling down from the rest of the isles. Less now than in the darkest days of the war, but never stopping. An endless river of darkness, and she could feel them all. Their resentment and pain, hatred and fear.
Wraiths of the past, mere 'shadows' of dead warriors. Ghosts full of regrets and grudges. So weak that normal humans couldn't even sense them, bar an unusually large concentration.
But more arrived each day, pooling into Skye.
She could still remember that night, the thing that answered her prayers.
A figure shrouded in shadows floated before a young purple-haired girl. A vague outline of a robed human, obscured by a dark haze. She couldn't tell if it was male or female; the only visible part of their body was an eerie smile, a cruel smirk mocking and reassuring her at the same time.
Scathach could only stare at it, fear gripping her heart.
She knew it wasn't a fairy like her Teacher, but something much more dangerous. Despite its suffocating presence, she couldn't sense it at all, as if her tired eyes were playing tricks on her. Her small bedroom seemed to expand into infinity behind it, an abyss of shadows without end.
"What a poor child," The figure said, its voice soft yet piercing like the sound of steel clashing on steel. "You beg and beg, yet your guardian won't answer you. Tell me, do you seek power to smite your enemies? Magic to melt flesh from bone? Strength of arms to render limb from limb?" the figure paused, tilting its head slightly. "Even if he could hear you, he won't grant it to you; his gifts are more of a curse than mine. I, at least, can offer you knowledge that will save your people right now."
She gulped, hope mixing with dread like a bitter bile on her tongue, "A-And what I would've to give in return?"
The figure's smile didn't change, and yet a shiver went down Scathach's spine.
"Give? Nothing. Simply … guard something for me. For a short time. And when your story is over, I will welcome you into my lands, warrior of Skye."
She made a deal with that thing then, bound herself in service to guard the Gate of Shadows, an entrance to its realm, she supposed. Yet, the wraiths, the shadows creeping into Skye, accumulated, never reaching these Gates.
She wondered if it would be like that until she died and opened the gates to cross to the other side.
The shouting of rowdy youngsters drew her attention, dispelling her dark thoughts. Three of her disciples trod the shore, knee-deep in the water, each one with a spear in hand. The fourth one was the source of the commotion, having lost his footing on the loose gravel and fallen into the waves to the laughter of his comrades. He struggled to get up, cursing the laughing men but with no heat in his voice.
It appeared they were attempting to catch a fish, but clearly, none of them were fishermen, their attempts with their spears utilizing skills meant to kill other humans on a battlefield, not fish underwater.
But their good cheer seemed to infect her other disciples as more men gathered to try their luck.
Soon, it turned into a competition.
A line of warriors was throwing spears into the waves, trying to spear the elusive animals. They weren't having much luck, and Scathach was sure that twenty men stirring the waters scared most of the sealife away. Still, they weren't discouraged, egging each other on, the few lucky ones bragging loudly with small fish stuck on their speartips.
Scathach shook her head but couldn't help but smile a little.
They were acting like children, but she didn't dislike this side of her disciples. They were all brave warriors, talented in their own ways, but they were more than that alone. She met some truly stoic men in her life, unfazed by anything they faced, but they always gave her a lonely impression. Sometimes, it was better to indulge in simpler desires.
Or maybe it was her Teacher's influence on her.
Still, some stricter exercise was in order if they were all so bored.
"Teacher!" one of the men called out. "Aren't you gonna try your luck? Beor here says you wouldn't be able to catch a single fish."
"Wha…!" the man in question, Beor, grabbed the speaker, shaking him in panic. "Are you trying to rope me into some hellish training regimen!?" He turned to Scathach. "Teacher, don't listen to his lies. I'm sure no fish can defeat you."
Amused but hiding it, Scathach lifted an eyebrow as Beor's face turned red, realizing what he had just said.
"Oh? No fish can defeat me, you say? I sure hope so, or there must be even stronger 'fish' out there than the sea monster I recently killed."
"Right! That's what I meant, Teacher! No sea monster can match you."
Sea monster or not, it would be a lie to say she wasn't interested in joining their little game. It was a little bit of fun, and she wanted to try her skill, too. If old Meriah was still around, he would probably tell her to act her age, but even when she was getting older, she didn't really feel old just yet, and besides, some of her disciples were older than her.
She took off her boots and walked into the cold tide to the cheers of her disciples. The competition turned into a sudden spectacle, a semicircle of laughing warriors taking bets and egging their teacher on.
Despite the clamor, there were quite a lot of fish in the surf, lazily swimming back and forth. The waters around Skye were always bountiful, something Scathach was glad for.
She stopped in knee-deep shallows, lifting her spear and trying to stay as still as possible.
She had never attempted something like this before, but allowing the fish to get used to her presence and approach her seemed like a good idea.
She tuned the crowd out and stood still as a statue. Soon, small black shapes darted around her in quick bursts, but she waited for something bigger. It wouldn't do to just catch anything; she wanted something impressive. A few minutes later, the water was teeming with sealife, and Scathach tensed, preparing to strike at a particularly large specimen.
With one smooth motion, her spear struck the water without a ripple to show it broke the surface. Most of her disciples probably didn't even see her move, and yet, when she raised her spear, no fish was to be found. Instead, an empty tip of her training spear gleamed in the sun.
She watched in the sudden quiet as all across the shore fish fled into the deeps leaving the coast lifeless.
"…ah, don't worry, Teacher." One of the men behind her said amidst an awkward silence. "It's harder than it looks. My 'pa taught me since I was little, and I still can't do it if my life depended on it."
Scathach didn't answer him, still staring ahead, her face set in a severe expression.
The fish fled before she made her move.
All of them.
She ignored her disciples, focusing on the surrounding. She couldn't hear a single animal—no birds in the sky nor anything on land.
Even the wind seemed to stop, adding to the eerie stillness.
A shiver crept up her spine.
Something wasn't right. She kept searching for the source of the feeling, scanning the horizon. It didn't feel magical, yet none of the men behind her noticed anything.
Finally, her eyes landed on a small black dot in the distance. Something walked along the shore of Skye, heading in their direction. It was still miles away, but she was certain it was the source of this uneasiness.
"Return to the castle." She ordered the men, her voice hard.
Her disciples seemed to notice something was off and followed her gaze, spotting the distant figure.
"…Teacher?"
"Now."
They left. Many were prideful warriors, but their respect for her was bigger than their egos. They kept glancing back but did as she told them.
Training spear in hand, Scathach waited for the being to approach. The lack of a proper weapon was a problem, but she would make due.
As the figure approached and she could make out the details, an uncertain frown crept up her face. She recognized that familiar shade of red and gold—the form of a young boy in red and black clothes with glowing golden eyes. And still, she invoked her magecraft, and a pair of concealed runes flashed on her armor, runes inscribed specifically to clear her mind of any illusions and deceptions. Magical energy coursed through her head, but nothing changed. So either this really was her teacher – Avel, The Fairy of Fire and Iron – or something that her runes couldn't see through.
Because while her eyes told her it was her teacher, the feeling she got from him was different than she could ever remember.
A sense of danger flooded her senses as the warmly smiling fairy neared her. It felt as if a tip of a sharp blade was pressing against the back of her neck. It didn't seem aimed at her, yet she felt that one wrong move would spell her doom.
She tensed, ready to act at a moment's notice if this truly wasn't her teacher. She almost jumped away when he leaped at her from fifty paces away but stayed in place because, despite the oppressive aura, she couldn't feel any ill intentions from him.
He crashed into her, driving the air out of her lungs and making her stumble, and embraced her in a fierce hug. He buried his face in her chest, hanging off her frame like a giant limpet.
She expected him to let her go after a few seconds, but he didn't seem to be releasing her anytime soon.
"Umm … Teacher?"
"Mhm." He mumbled, face still pressed against her body.
Scathach stood there awkwardly, arms extended to the sides, one with her spear still in hand.
A small part of her still suspected this wasn't her teacher, but his magical signature was unmistakable. And from this close in, there was no way someone could've deceived her senses.
Still, it was unusual for him to be so clingy.
"Not that I'm not happy to see you, Teacher, but is there a reason for this hug?"
He looked up at her, "Because I wanted to."
"I … see. Are you going to release me anytime soon?"
He took a few seconds to consider the question before burying his face in her chest again and hugging her tighter.
"… no."
Scathach looked at the sky and sighed.
This was not how she imagined their reunion to go. The events of the night he left were still fresh in her mind. It was only a few short months ago, after all.
She spent many a night worrying about their next meeting. All the things that went unsaid that night and those words that were exchanged. It all weighed on her. She knew she had hurt him then. She regrated not doing things differently, yet if she could go back there, she wasn't sure what to change.
She didn't want to … give up.
For all the pain it caused her, the war, the broken promise, she didn't want to return to how things were. She changed. For good and bad, but all of it was a part of her. She was the Queen of Skye, a warrior without equal, not a little girl who needed to be saved anymore.
She just didn't know how to tell him that.
She hoped that in ten years, she would find an answer. That their reunion wouldn't be a repeat of the last one.
What she didn't expect, was this, whatever this was.
Scathach tried to gently pry her teacher off her, but he wouldn't budge. She knew fairies were stubborn, and Avel wasn't an exception, but this was something she could see Dienu do, not her teacher.
He wasn't usually so … childish. Yes, childish was the right word.
Something must've happened to him. Something big. The fact that he returned so quickly was already strange, and his sudden personality change only reinforced Scathach's suspicions.
"Teacher," she prodded him again. "Please."
He grumbled unintelligibly for a few seconds but finally released her, a grumpy expression on his face.
She looked him over, but there was nothing strange about his appearance. But, then again, fairies didn't really change or age, or at least not to her knowledge.
Besides the unnerving sensation of phantom blades pressing against her body, which was lessening with every second, he was still the same fairy she had met in her youth.
Although he seemed more relaxed than usual.
The hint of tightness in his features which always hid behind his smiles was gone.
Scathach shook her head and smiled, pushing her worries away. There will be time to worry later. But, for now, she was happy he was back.
"Welcome home, Teacher."
He smiled upon hearing her words. A wide, happy, and carefree smile, one she rarely saw him with.
"I'm back, Scathach."
He looked younger like that, with the wind tugging at his red cloak and hair and somewhat hiding his unnatural features. She would believe he was just a young boy if she didn't know better.
"Did something happen? You are early, Teacher. I thought you'll be gone for another ten years."
"Well, I finally dealt with the thing keeping me in Faery, and I'm free to remain with you however long I want now."
Ah.
She didn't want to bring down the mood, but something must've shown on her face as her teacher's smile dimmed a little.
An ugly feeling settled in her stomach. She didn't want a repeat of the last time, so she forced it down, trying to retain her sincere smile.
"That's great, Teacher!"
And it was.
It was clearly something that was bothering him all the time she knew him, and it was probably the source of his unusually good humor.
She was happy for him, but… she wasn't ready.
And Scathach hated that part of herself that was disappointed at his early return. The part that wanted him to be gone for longer.
"…It is."
"Can you tell me what it was about?" she quickly asked, trying to keep the good mood from souring.
He didn't answer her immediately, his eyes piercing her with intensity. His smile turned wan, but it might be just her imagination.
Her teacher was usually easy to read, but sometimes he turned into an inscrutable book that she couldn't decipher no matter how hard she tried.
"Something I worked on for the last three hundred years and later bound me with a promise. Now that I fulfilled it, I no longer need to return to Nibelung."
Three hundred years. A span of time longer than the lifespan of even the greatest spellcasters, and he spoke of it so lightly. She couldn't imagine working on the same thing for so long.
It hit her again that her teacher really wasn't a human, no matter how much he resembled one. He usually wore his Glamour, his form of a human man, but without it, he was still the same as the day she met him.
An ethereal fairy with hair like fire and slitted eyes shining with gold.
He looked over her head, where her castle stood atop the cliffs, before turning his head towards the ocean and sighing.
"Let's take a walk, Scathach. It would be a shame to waste such nice weather."
She nodded, walking with him on the shores of Skye, away from her home.
His earlier cheerfulness evaporated, and once again, Scathach was beside the fairy she was used to. She wanted to kick herself for it. Even if it was a bit strange, she was glad Avel could be so happy, so free.
And she ruined it.
Again.
Still, she listened to him talking, trying not to show her inner thoughts.
"A couple of years before I met you, I made a promise to a powerful fairy. Bihev was his name. The Great Father of the Mountain. Of Nibelung. My home for most of my life."
Scathach recognized the name. He never told her much, but she overheard some tidbits from his conversations with Dienu. Still, she couldn't quite imagine what a fae settlement was like.
"How does it look like, Teacher? Nibelung, I mean."
"Hmm. It's a giant mountain filled with thousands of tunnels and caverns. Seams of precious metals and gems adorned the walls of those passages, gleaming with every color of the rainbow. The center of Nibelung was hollow, an enormous cavern where countless fairies worked hundreds of forges. Rivers of molten rock ran down its walls, pooling at a lava lake in the middle, where Bihev forge stood, obscured by a waterfall of magma. A great pillar that illuminated the vast space. Outside, a village of Aelfs hugged the mountain slopes, where the cursed fairies lived in their homes of living trees."
"It must be a beautiful place."
Avel's expression grew suddenly uncertain, "Err, yes. It … was."
Huh. She didn't expect this kind of response. She was curious why he reacted like this. Did it have something to do with his early return?
"'It was'?" she asked, repeating his words.
"Uh, it kind of … blew up."
She lifted an eyebrow, silently prompting him to elaborate.
He sighed, "When I left Nibelung, it wasn't on the best terms with Bihev. Three hundred years ago, I 'stole' one of his weapons. Or so he always claimed. In reality, I just scanned one with my magecraft, but he accused me of theft and forbade me from leaving Nibelung without 'returning' his weapon. Anyway, some centuries later, he forced a promise on me. The circumstances don't matter, but as a result, I was bound to return there every decade and stay for ten years until I returned what I stole. That's why I had to leave you every ten years. As you can imagine, it was getting a bit … annoying," his smile turned into a snarl for a moment, showing Scathach that it was more than just 'annoying'. "But I couldn't do anything about it. Bihev is a powerful fae, much more than I, that's for sure."
She had trouble imagining someone stronger than her teacher, but she knew there were beings that even he couldn't defeat.
Still, it was a bit exciting to hear about a titanic battle between two mighty fairies.
"So you fought him and managed to escape?" she asked, eager to listen to a tale of such a clash.
"What? No. Didn't you listen? Bihev isn't someone I could defeat whenever I wanted to. If that were the case, I wouldn't have to leave you the first time."
"Oh…" She trailed off, disappointed. "So how did Nibelung 'blow up'?"
"A dragon blasted it apart."
"Really?" she asked, leaning closer.
A dragon? The strongest of Phantasmal Species? Scathach heart beat faster just hearing the word. It was one of her hidden desires to try herself against a beast like that. Of course, she wouldn't abandon her people and go off looking for one, but it was still something she secretly wished would happen one day.
"Yep. A great black dragon attacked Nibelung, destroying half the mountain and stealing its treasures before we chased it off."
"And you fought with it, Teacher? Really?"
He looked at her strangely, and she had to admit that maybe she was too excited to hear about him fighting for his life. She composed herself, a small embarrassed blush coloring her cheeks.
"I did. It was either that or letting him slaughter all of the fairies in Nibelung. And it was a pain to deal with, let me tell you. It melted so many of my weapons! Stupid lizard. But in the end, it couldn't take on Bihev and me simultaneously. Still, the greedy thing managed to steal most of Bihev's treasury. And, well, after the battle, I kind of told him that he will either accept the Midjinior I forged, or I will 'finish what the dragon started'." Avel rubbed the back of his head, a chagrined expression on his face. "Uh, it's kind of embarrassing. I'm pretty sure he could still defeat me even then, exhausted and injured as he was. But he did accept the sword, and here I am. Free to do whatever I want."
Scathach always thought Faery was a peaceful land. A home of fantastical fairies, full of magic and wonder, different than this brutal world of humans. But it seemed that even there, things weren't so simple.
It was a bit disappointing, if she had to be honest.
"Midjinior must be an amazing weapon if you had so much trouble recreating it, Teacher." She said, keeping the darker thoughts away.
Her teacher nodded, and in a puff of golden-red flames, a huge sword appeared in his hands, and he let her inspect it.
She didn't sense him using magecraft, and the weapon appeared differently than she was used to. Much faster too. But she chalked it off to his fairy magic.
It was a beautiful blade, shining with gold and polished steel in the afternoon sun. However, the size and weight made it unwieldy, more suited for someone much larger than her. Maybe some of her disciples could use it, but she doubted they could fight with it effectively; the weight alone would tire them out.
But it was a weapon for the fae, so it's not like it was a problem for them.
"It's one of the best weapons in my armory, yes. It has the ability to cut through anything, be it armor or magic."
"That's impressive."
She tried swinging it around, switching into familiar stances, but the weight was throwing her out. Still, when she slashed at a sizable rock, it passed through it without any resistance, cleaving the stone in half. In a hand of a skilled swordsman, it would be a deadly weapon. She sure wouldn't want to face off against it.
"It is. But it's not a perfect weapon. It can cut through any armor, but it's a 'single target' effect, so to speak. Once it passes through something, it loses its effect and turns into a regular sharp blade. Multiple layers of different types of armor will easily stop it if it's not overcharged with magical energy. It's a bit different against magic, but fundamentally the same. It 'cuts' magic in half but doesn't disrupt it, so any arcane shield will simply turn into two smaller ones. It's a bit strange like that. It's both stronger and weaker in that regard, as it treats magical energy as a 'single target', so it can cut through multiple spells at once, but it won't 'destroy' those spells."
"Hmm … wait." She stopped midmotion, turning to her teacher with a frown. "If you returned this sword to Bihev, how come you still have it with you? Or is it a magical construct?"
"Heh. It's the real thing. But Scathach," he said, conjuring hundreds of copies of the sword she held in her hands, each one bursting into being in a flare of flames. "I spent three hundred years forging these swords. I have thousands of failed attempts stored away."
She stared at the wall of steel behind the mischievously smiling fairy, at hundreds of identical blades floating in midair. Wisps of fire soon faded away, leaving only bare steel behind.
And yet, she still didn't feel anything.
Avel used no magical energy to summon those weapons. At least she wasn't able to detect any.
"Does it mean I can keep this one?" she asked, ignoring the quickly disappearing wall of flames as the weapons faded away.
"Sure. I said those were 'failed attempts', but I think Bihev was just toying with me. He did accept a 'failed attempt' in the end, after all. So the sword you are holding should be as good as the original Midjinior. Ah!" his eyes widened in realization. "I almost forgot."
He lifted his hand, and a crimson spear materialized in his grip, a few more appearing on the ground.
"Take those. I couldn't finish them, but the bones you gave me were interesting. I tried making a spear out of them, but most broke into pieces. Still, some are at least somewhat decent. This one turned out the best."
Scathach put the large sword aside and took the red spear, examining the weapon. It didn't look like bone anymore, and she could feel some strange energies inside it, but if her teacher said it was 'decent', then it should be something beyond any human blacksmith.
She should be able to inscribe her runes on these. Maybe. It wasn't something she had much experience in, but it should be possible.
"Thank you, Teacher."
And like that, there was silence.
Avel was looking at her, his smile turned sad again, and she didn't know what to say. She was pushing it away since he arrived, but she knew they couldn't continue like this. With all the distractions out of the way, the ugly feelings bubbled up.
The contradicting desires to get out of Avel's shadow, out of his ever-present blanket of protection, and at the same time, a deep longing for his presence, for his approval.
It wasn't even anything wrong to want; it was just that … she still resented him for not being there back then.
And she hated herself for that.
She knew he had no choice. She knew she couldn't have him always taking care of her problems.
But it still hurt.
And when he tried to make his promise again, she rejected him, afraid to be hurt so again.
"Scathach," he said, and her heartbeat picked up, a sense of dread settling in her stomach. "You don't want my promise anymore, do you?"
She flinched, looking away.
"T-Teacher, I… " She struggled to find the correct words. "…I'm not a little girl anymore. You … don't need to protect me. I can take care of myself."
She tried to appear calm despite the burning in her eyes.
Avel's piercing golden eyes seemed to look right through her, though, as if he could see her every emotion. He regarded her for a few seconds, his smile never leaving his lips.
"I know." He finally said.
"It's not that I don't want to see you anymore, Teacher, but you don't need to spend all your time in Skye. I don't want to chain you until I'm dead. And, and you said I'm as good with a spear as you, right? So it's not like I'm helpless. I'll be fine even then if you aren't there."
"I know, Scathach. I know."
He patted her, like when she was still a little girl, even if he had to stand on his toes now to reach the top of her head.
It was nice, even if it made her feel like her words weren't reaching him.
But maybe he would always see the child he saved in her, no matter how much time passed.
"…"
"It was selfish of me, too. I didn't want to lose you but didn't think about your wishes. Here," he sat on a large boulder and patted the space beside him. "Let's sit and talk."
She sat, but the stubborn stinging in the corner of her eyes didn't go away completely. She stared ahead at sea and the sun slowly nearing the horizon.
"I won't make that promise, Scathach."
"Teacher, it's-"
"No. It was a stupid idea anyway. Especially when I was about to leave again. And you are right. You are strong enough to take care of yourself."
She closed her eyes, her shoulders sagging in relief, tension leaving her body upon hearing his words, and the gnawing ball of stress in her stomach, which she forgot was even there, faded away.
It was exactly what she wanted, but somehow, it made her feel like a child. As if she was the same little girl he had saved all those years ago again.
She fiddled with her fingers, "…I bet you could still defeat me ten times out of ten."
"Maybe. But I'm a fairy, and you are a human. It's unfair to compare yourself to beings like me. You don't have to call me 'Teacher' anymore, actually, as I have nothing more to teach you."
"What are you talking about? I'm sure there are tons of things you could still teach me. Besides, it would be strange to change it now. You will always be my teacher, Teacher."
"Hmph," he rolled his eyes, "So be it. I have Dienu calling me 'Red', so you may as well keep calling me 'Teacher'. Maybe one day someone will call me by my name." He laughed briefly for some reason. Scathach didn't think it was that funny. He looked to the side, at the shadowed cliffs. "…can you tell me what those 'shadows' are about?"
"…they are wraiths. Ghosts. At least, I think so. The… god that granted me my runes wasn't very clear about what's the deal with them."
"Ghosts, huh? Do you need my help with them?"
She shook her head, "It's something I'll have to take care of by myself, I think. For now, they are gathering in Skye. When I know more, I'll let you know, Teacher."
"Alright."
A comfortable silence fell upon them, and Scathach let herself smile a little.
Now she felt stupid about fearing this conversation. Did she really believe her teacher would … what, force his promise on her? Ignore whatever she was saying to him?
He wasn't like that.
He changed in those few months, sure, but he was still the same fairy she always knew. He just seemed more… not mature, exactly – the opposite, more like – but something close. He was calm, even when she rejected his promise again.
And yet, for some reason, it seemed like this was a farewell.
"What are you going to do next, Teacher? You said so yourself, I can take care of myself. And you are free of your promise with that Bihev, too, so you don't need to stay in my castle."
He thought about it for a moment, the setting sun casting his form in orange light, giving his red hair and golden eyes an otherworldly look. A hint of mystery hung around him, a sign of his inhuman nature. She could always sense it, but now it seemed stronger than ever.
"Hmm. Maybe you are right. I spent most of my life in Faery but didn't explore much of it. The same with the human world. I wonder if my old home is around yet."
"Wherever you go, you will always have a home in Skye, Teacher."
He grinned at her, "Don't worry, Scathach. I'll make sure to visit you often, even if I leave to travel around the world. I wouldn't want to miss your wedding, after all."
"Ha. I wonder about that. I won't marry someone weaker than me, and so far, nobody like that has appeared before me."
"That will be a challenge. I doubt there's someone like that nearby."
She stood up and stretched out her muscles.
The day was ending, yet she was full of energy. The doubts that weighed on her for so long were gone, and she felt lighter than ever, and an easy smile bloomed on her face.
"We will see." She said. "Now, let's go, Teacher. You don't have to leave immediately, so you can help me beat down my disciples. It will do them some good to see there are mountains they aren't ready to climb yet. I feel they're starting to think I'm weaker than they thought. A reminder is in order."
"It's a wonder so many still remain if that's how you treat them."
And so, they left for her castle, her teacher storing away the weapons he had gifted her for now.
The sun was half hidden behind the horizon, and the shadows of Skye lengthened, but for once, Scathach was optimistic. Her bond with Avel would never be the same as when she was a child, but it didn't mean it was worse now. They both changed, and so did their circumstances. She wouldn't cling to the past.
They will continue to change and grow in the future, but Scathach didn't fear it anymore.
She was sure they would be able to overcome any trial life has in store for them.
AN
The following few chapters will be essentially a collection of loosely connected short stories. Just a time skip to the next arc, really, but with things happening along the way.
Chapter 11 will be up in two or three weeks as I need to reshuffle some events and plot out the next arc.
It was a warm autumn day, an unusual occurrence at this late into the year, and so, Queen of Skye took the opportunity to leave the confines of her castle – and an unreasonable amount of paperwork therein – to train her disciples by the shores of her isle. And no, Scathach wasn't avoiding her responsibilities, no matter how much the thought of spending endless hours on the never-shrinking mountain of parchment filled her with dread. She had her reputation to uphold and disciples to oversee. It was as crucial as managing her kingdom.
Yes, definitely, she nodded to herself as she leaned on her training spear.
She watched the warriors under her tutelage mingle. Twenty men of various ages, from young boys, barely into adulthood, to experienced veterans, with silver in their beards, exercised and conversed in small groups.
It was a break time, after all, a time for rest after hours of intense training.
Some spent that time reviewing what they had learned, practicing stances and techniques. Others simply talked with their friends, joking and laughing, allowing the sunny day to soothe their aching muscles.
The sound of conversations and waves gently lapping the shores of Skye on a pleasant autumn afternoon filled the air with a serene ambiance. It made her feel nostalgic for some reason. Vague impressions of happier times drifted through the back of her head, half-forgotten memories, making her chest tighten as if an invisible hand was squeezing her heart.
Scathach sighed, her eyes panning over the resting warriors. None of them approached her, kept away by an aura of wistfulness hanging about her shoulders. She wasn't tired, she could go days on end without rest, and this small amount of exercise didn't bother her at all, but she knew she wasn't a normal human.
With magic in her veins and a blessing of the fae upon her, she could consider herself special, for not many could boast of the same.
She was gifted, both by the circumstances of her birth and by various people throughout her life. She was royalty, and that alone put her above almost all other humans. Her talent with a spear was already considered legendary, even if she thought she worked just as hard as any other warrior for her skills. She received gifts from mortals and fairies alike.
A cherished princess.
Yet, for all her luck, tragedy always seemed to follow her. Good and bad in equal measure. She refused to believe in fate, but sometimes she wondered if the world was ruled by its unseen hand.
From the days of her childhood, when she lost her family and gained her teacher, to the wartorn days of her early rule. Again and again, she avoided death by the smallest of margins, always moving forward, battle after battle. Alone and with the help of others until Skye's shores turned red with blood, and none dared to challenge her anymore.
Even if some decisions haunted her to this day.
She glanced to the side, toward a cliff in the distance. A towering vertical wall of dark stone, overlooking the sea since ages past and casting a shadow at the gravel beach beneath.
But the shadow there was more than simple shade. A dark patch of wispy darkness lay there, like black oil seeping out of the earth. It hid from the sun, in dark places, in deep crevices, but she didn't need her eyes to see it.
Scathach could feel it.
A faint connection, barely noticeable. But that 'shadow' wasn't alone. All across Skye, shadows gathered, trickling down from the rest of the isles. Less now than in the darkest days of the war, but never stopping. An endless river of darkness, and she could feel them all. Their resentment and pain, hatred and fear.
Wraiths of the past, mere 'shadows' of dead warriors. Ghosts full of regrets and grudges. So weak that normal humans couldn't even sense them, bar an unusually large concentration.
But more arrived each day, pooling into Skye.
She could still remember that night, the thing that answered her prayers.
A figure shrouded in shadows floated before a young purple-haired girl. A vague outline of a robed human, obscured by a dark haze. She couldn't tell if it was male or female; the only visible part of their body was an eerie smile, a cruel smirk mocking and reassuring her at the same time.
Scathach could only stare at it, fear gripping her heart.
She knew it wasn't a fairy like her Teacher, but something much more dangerous. Despite its suffocating presence, she couldn't sense it at all, as if her tired eyes were playing tricks on her. Her small bedroom seemed to expand into infinity behind it, an abyss of shadows without end.
"What a poor child," The figure said, its voice soft yet piercing like the sound of steel clashing on steel. "You beg and beg, yet your guardian won't answer you. Tell me, do you seek power to smite your enemies? Magic to melt flesh from bone? Strength of arms to render limb from limb?" the figure paused, tilting its head slightly. "Even if he could hear you, he won't grant it to you; his gifts are more of a curse than mine. I, at least, can offer you knowledge that will save your people right now."
She gulped, hope mixing with dread like a bitter bile on her tongue, "A-And what I would've to give in return?"
The figure's smile didn't change, and yet a shiver went down Scathach's spine.
"Give? Nothing. Simply … guard something for me. For a short time. And when your story is over, I will welcome you into my lands, warrior of Skye."
She made a deal with that thing then, bound herself in service to guard the Gate of Shadows, an entrance to its realm, she supposed. Yet, the wraiths, the shadows creeping into Skye, accumulated, never reaching these Gates.
She wondered if it would be like that until she died and opened the gates to cross to the other side.
The shouting of rowdy youngsters drew her attention, dispelling her dark thoughts. Three of her disciples trod the shore, knee-deep in the water, each one with a spear in hand. The fourth one was the source of the commotion, having lost his footing on the loose gravel and fallen into the waves to the laughter of his comrades. He struggled to get up, cursing the laughing men but with no heat in his voice.
It appeared they were attempting to catch a fish, but clearly, none of them were fishermen, their attempts with their spears utilizing skills meant to kill other humans on a battlefield, not fish underwater.
But their good cheer seemed to infect her other disciples as more men gathered to try their luck.
Soon, it turned into a competition.
A line of warriors was throwing spears into the waves, trying to spear the elusive animals. They weren't having much luck, and Scathach was sure that twenty men stirring the waters scared most of the sealife away. Still, they weren't discouraged, egging each other on, the few lucky ones bragging loudly with small fish stuck on their speartips.
Scathach shook her head but couldn't help but smile a little.
They were acting like children, but she didn't dislike this side of her disciples. They were all brave warriors, talented in their own ways, but they were more than that alone. She met some truly stoic men in her life, unfazed by anything they faced, but they always gave her a lonely impression. Sometimes, it was better to indulge in simpler desires.
Or maybe it was her Teacher's influence on her.
Still, some stricter exercise was in order if they were all so bored.
"Teacher!" one of the men called out. "Aren't you gonna try your luck? Beor here says you wouldn't be able to catch a single fish."
"Wha…!" the man in question, Beor, grabbed the speaker, shaking him in panic. "Are you trying to rope me into some hellish training regimen!?" He turned to Scathach. "Teacher, don't listen to his lies. I'm sure no fish can defeat you."
Amused but hiding it, Scathach lifted an eyebrow as Beor's face turned red, realizing what he had just said.
"Oh? No fish can defeat me, you say? I sure hope so, or there must be even stronger 'fish' out there than the sea monster I recently killed."
"Right! That's what I meant, Teacher! No sea monster can match you."
Sea monster or not, it would be a lie to say she wasn't interested in joining their little game. It was a little bit of fun, and she wanted to try her skill, too. If old Meriah was still around, he would probably tell her to act her age, but even when she was getting older, she didn't really feel old just yet, and besides, some of her disciples were older than her.
She took off her boots and walked into the cold tide to the cheers of her disciples. The competition turned into a sudden spectacle, a semicircle of laughing warriors taking bets and egging their teacher on.
Despite the clamor, there were quite a lot of fish in the surf, lazily swimming back and forth. The waters around Skye were always bountiful, something Scathach was glad for.
She stopped in knee-deep shallows, lifting her spear and trying to stay as still as possible.
She had never attempted something like this before, but allowing the fish to get used to her presence and approach her seemed like a good idea.
She tuned the crowd out and stood still as a statue. Soon, small black shapes darted around her in quick bursts, but she waited for something bigger. It wouldn't do to just catch anything; she wanted something impressive. A few minutes later, the water was teeming with sealife, and Scathach tensed, preparing to strike at a particularly large specimen.
With one smooth motion, her spear struck the water without a ripple to show it broke the surface. Most of her disciples probably didn't even see her move, and yet, when she raised her spear, no fish was to be found. Instead, an empty tip of her training spear gleamed in the sun.
She watched in the sudden quiet as all across the shore fish fled into the deeps leaving the coast lifeless.
"…ah, don't worry, Teacher." One of the men behind her said amidst an awkward silence. "It's harder than it looks. My 'pa taught me since I was little, and I still can't do it if my life depended on it."
Scathach didn't answer him, still staring ahead, her face set in a severe expression.
The fish fled before she made her move.
All of them.
She ignored her disciples, focusing on the surrounding. She couldn't hear a single animal—no birds in the sky nor anything on land.
Even the wind seemed to stop, adding to the eerie stillness.
A shiver crept up her spine.
Something wasn't right. She kept searching for the source of the feeling, scanning the horizon. It didn't feel magical, yet none of the men behind her noticed anything.
Finally, her eyes landed on a small black dot in the distance. Something walked along the shore of Skye, heading in their direction. It was still miles away, but she was certain it was the source of this uneasiness.
"Return to the castle." She ordered the men, her voice hard.
Her disciples seemed to notice something was off and followed her gaze, spotting the distant figure.
"…Teacher?"
"Now."
They left. Many were prideful warriors, but their respect for her was bigger than their egos. They kept glancing back but did as she told them.
Training spear in hand, Scathach waited for the being to approach. The lack of a proper weapon was a problem, but she would make due.
As the figure approached and she could make out the details, an uncertain frown crept up her face. She recognized that familiar shade of red and gold—the form of a young boy in red and black clothes with glowing golden eyes. And still, she invoked her magecraft, and a pair of concealed runes flashed on her armor, runes inscribed specifically to clear her mind of any illusions and deceptions. Magical energy coursed through her head, but nothing changed. So either this really was her teacher – Avel, The Fairy of Fire and Iron – or something that her runes couldn't see through.
Because while her eyes told her it was her teacher, the feeling she got from him was different than she could ever remember.
A sense of danger flooded her senses as the warmly smiling fairy neared her. It felt as if a tip of a sharp blade was pressing against the back of her neck. It didn't seem aimed at her, yet she felt that one wrong move would spell her doom.
She tensed, ready to act at a moment's notice if this truly wasn't her teacher. She almost jumped away when he leaped at her from fifty paces away but stayed in place because, despite the oppressive aura, she couldn't feel any ill intentions from him.
He crashed into her, driving the air out of her lungs and making her stumble, and embraced her in a fierce hug. He buried his face in her chest, hanging off her frame like a giant limpet.
She expected him to let her go after a few seconds, but he didn't seem to be releasing her anytime soon.
"Umm … Teacher?"
"Mhm." He mumbled, face still pressed against her body.
Scathach stood there awkwardly, arms extended to the sides, one with her spear still in hand.
A small part of her still suspected this wasn't her teacher, but his magical signature was unmistakable. And from this close in, there was no way someone could've deceived her senses.
Still, it was unusual for him to be so clingy.
"Not that I'm not happy to see you, Teacher, but is there a reason for this hug?"
He looked up at her, "Because I wanted to."
"I … see. Are you going to release me anytime soon?"
He took a few seconds to consider the question before burying his face in her chest again and hugging her tighter.
"… no."
Scathach looked at the sky and sighed.
This was not how she imagined their reunion to go. The events of the night he left were still fresh in her mind. It was only a few short months ago, after all.
She spent many a night worrying about their next meeting. All the things that went unsaid that night and those words that were exchanged. It all weighed on her. She knew she had hurt him then. She regrated not doing things differently, yet if she could go back there, she wasn't sure what to change.
She didn't want to … give up.
For all the pain it caused her, the war, the broken promise, she didn't want to return to how things were. She changed. For good and bad, but all of it was a part of her. She was the Queen of Skye, a warrior without equal, not a little girl who needed to be saved anymore.
She just didn't know how to tell him that.
She hoped that in ten years, she would find an answer. That their reunion wouldn't be a repeat of the last one.
What she didn't expect, was this, whatever this was.
Scathach tried to gently pry her teacher off her, but he wouldn't budge. She knew fairies were stubborn, and Avel wasn't an exception, but this was something she could see Dienu do, not her teacher.
He wasn't usually so … childish. Yes, childish was the right word.
Something must've happened to him. Something big. The fact that he returned so quickly was already strange, and his sudden personality change only reinforced Scathach's suspicions.
"Teacher," she prodded him again. "Please."
He grumbled unintelligibly for a few seconds but finally released her, a grumpy expression on his face.
She looked him over, but there was nothing strange about his appearance. But, then again, fairies didn't really change or age, or at least not to her knowledge.
Besides the unnerving sensation of phantom blades pressing against her body, which was lessening with every second, he was still the same fairy she had met in her youth.
Although he seemed more relaxed than usual.
The hint of tightness in his features which always hid behind his smiles was gone.
Scathach shook her head and smiled, pushing her worries away. There will be time to worry later. But, for now, she was happy he was back.
"Welcome home, Teacher."
He smiled upon hearing her words. A wide, happy, and carefree smile, one she rarely saw him with.
"I'm back, Scathach."
He looked younger like that, with the wind tugging at his red cloak and hair and somewhat hiding his unnatural features. She would believe he was just a young boy if she didn't know better.
"Did something happen? You are early, Teacher. I thought you'll be gone for another ten years."
"Well, I finally dealt with the thing keeping me in Faery, and I'm free to remain with you however long I want now."
Ah.
She didn't want to bring down the mood, but something must've shown on her face as her teacher's smile dimmed a little.
An ugly feeling settled in her stomach. She didn't want a repeat of the last time, so she forced it down, trying to retain her sincere smile.
"That's great, Teacher!"
And it was.
It was clearly something that was bothering him all the time she knew him, and it was probably the source of his unusually good humor.
She was happy for him, but… she wasn't ready.
And Scathach hated that part of herself that was disappointed at his early return. The part that wanted him to be gone for longer.
"…It is."
"Can you tell me what it was about?" she quickly asked, trying to keep the good mood from souring.
He didn't answer her immediately, his eyes piercing her with intensity. His smile turned wan, but it might be just her imagination.
Her teacher was usually easy to read, but sometimes he turned into an inscrutable book that she couldn't decipher no matter how hard she tried.
"Something I worked on for the last three hundred years and later bound me with a promise. Now that I fulfilled it, I no longer need to return to Nibelung."
Three hundred years. A span of time longer than the lifespan of even the greatest spellcasters, and he spoke of it so lightly. She couldn't imagine working on the same thing for so long.
It hit her again that her teacher really wasn't a human, no matter how much he resembled one. He usually wore his Glamour, his form of a human man, but without it, he was still the same as the day she met him.
An ethereal fairy with hair like fire and slitted eyes shining with gold.
He looked over her head, where her castle stood atop the cliffs, before turning his head towards the ocean and sighing.
"Let's take a walk, Scathach. It would be a shame to waste such nice weather."
She nodded, walking with him on the shores of Skye, away from her home.
His earlier cheerfulness evaporated, and once again, Scathach was beside the fairy she was used to. She wanted to kick herself for it. Even if it was a bit strange, she was glad Avel could be so happy, so free.
And she ruined it.
Again.
Still, she listened to him talking, trying not to show her inner thoughts.
"A couple of years before I met you, I made a promise to a powerful fairy. Bihev was his name. The Great Father of the Mountain. Of Nibelung. My home for most of my life."
Scathach recognized the name. He never told her much, but she overheard some tidbits from his conversations with Dienu. Still, she couldn't quite imagine what a fae settlement was like.
"How does it look like, Teacher? Nibelung, I mean."
"Hmm. It's a giant mountain filled with thousands of tunnels and caverns. Seams of precious metals and gems adorned the walls of those passages, gleaming with every color of the rainbow. The center of Nibelung was hollow, an enormous cavern where countless fairies worked hundreds of forges. Rivers of molten rock ran down its walls, pooling at a lava lake in the middle, where Bihev forge stood, obscured by a waterfall of magma. A great pillar that illuminated the vast space. Outside, a village of Aelfs hugged the mountain slopes, where the cursed fairies lived in their homes of living trees."
"It must be a beautiful place."
Avel's expression grew suddenly uncertain, "Err, yes. It … was."
Huh. She didn't expect this kind of response. She was curious why he reacted like this. Did it have something to do with his early return?
"'It was'?" she asked, repeating his words.
"Uh, it kind of … blew up."
She lifted an eyebrow, silently prompting him to elaborate.
He sighed, "When I left Nibelung, it wasn't on the best terms with Bihev. Three hundred years ago, I 'stole' one of his weapons. Or so he always claimed. In reality, I just scanned one with my magecraft, but he accused me of theft and forbade me from leaving Nibelung without 'returning' his weapon. Anyway, some centuries later, he forced a promise on me. The circumstances don't matter, but as a result, I was bound to return there every decade and stay for ten years until I returned what I stole. That's why I had to leave you every ten years. As you can imagine, it was getting a bit … annoying," his smile turned into a snarl for a moment, showing Scathach that it was more than just 'annoying'. "But I couldn't do anything about it. Bihev is a powerful fae, much more than I, that's for sure."
She had trouble imagining someone stronger than her teacher, but she knew there were beings that even he couldn't defeat.
Still, it was a bit exciting to hear about a titanic battle between two mighty fairies.
"So you fought him and managed to escape?" she asked, eager to listen to a tale of such a clash.
"What? No. Didn't you listen? Bihev isn't someone I could defeat whenever I wanted to. If that were the case, I wouldn't have to leave you the first time."
"Oh…" She trailed off, disappointed. "So how did Nibelung 'blow up'?"
"A dragon blasted it apart."
"Really?" she asked, leaning closer.
A dragon? The strongest of Phantasmal Species? Scathach heart beat faster just hearing the word. It was one of her hidden desires to try herself against a beast like that. Of course, she wouldn't abandon her people and go off looking for one, but it was still something she secretly wished would happen one day.
"Yep. A great black dragon attacked Nibelung, destroying half the mountain and stealing its treasures before we chased it off."
"And you fought with it, Teacher? Really?"
He looked at her strangely, and she had to admit that maybe she was too excited to hear about him fighting for his life. She composed herself, a small embarrassed blush coloring her cheeks.
"I did. It was either that or letting him slaughter all of the fairies in Nibelung. And it was a pain to deal with, let me tell you. It melted so many of my weapons! Stupid lizard. But in the end, it couldn't take on Bihev and me simultaneously. Still, the greedy thing managed to steal most of Bihev's treasury. And, well, after the battle, I kind of told him that he will either accept the Midjinior I forged, or I will 'finish what the dragon started'." Avel rubbed the back of his head, a chagrined expression on his face. "Uh, it's kind of embarrassing. I'm pretty sure he could still defeat me even then, exhausted and injured as he was. But he did accept the sword, and here I am. Free to do whatever I want."
Scathach always thought Faery was a peaceful land. A home of fantastical fairies, full of magic and wonder, different than this brutal world of humans. But it seemed that even there, things weren't so simple.
It was a bit disappointing, if she had to be honest.
"Midjinior must be an amazing weapon if you had so much trouble recreating it, Teacher." She said, keeping the darker thoughts away.
Her teacher nodded, and in a puff of golden-red flames, a huge sword appeared in his hands, and he let her inspect it.
She didn't sense him using magecraft, and the weapon appeared differently than she was used to. Much faster too. But she chalked it off to his fairy magic.
It was a beautiful blade, shining with gold and polished steel in the afternoon sun. However, the size and weight made it unwieldy, more suited for someone much larger than her. Maybe some of her disciples could use it, but she doubted they could fight with it effectively; the weight alone would tire them out.
But it was a weapon for the fae, so it's not like it was a problem for them.
"It's one of the best weapons in my armory, yes. It has the ability to cut through anything, be it armor or magic."
"That's impressive."
She tried swinging it around, switching into familiar stances, but the weight was throwing her out. Still, when she slashed at a sizable rock, it passed through it without any resistance, cleaving the stone in half. In a hand of a skilled swordsman, it would be a deadly weapon. She sure wouldn't want to face off against it.
"It is. But it's not a perfect weapon. It can cut through any armor, but it's a 'single target' effect, so to speak. Once it passes through something, it loses its effect and turns into a regular sharp blade. Multiple layers of different types of armor will easily stop it if it's not overcharged with magical energy. It's a bit different against magic, but fundamentally the same. It 'cuts' magic in half but doesn't disrupt it, so any arcane shield will simply turn into two smaller ones. It's a bit strange like that. It's both stronger and weaker in that regard, as it treats magical energy as a 'single target', so it can cut through multiple spells at once, but it won't 'destroy' those spells."
"Hmm … wait." She stopped midmotion, turning to her teacher with a frown. "If you returned this sword to Bihev, how come you still have it with you? Or is it a magical construct?"
"Heh. It's the real thing. But Scathach," he said, conjuring hundreds of copies of the sword she held in her hands, each one bursting into being in a flare of flames. "I spent three hundred years forging these swords. I have thousands of failed attempts stored away."
She stared at the wall of steel behind the mischievously smiling fairy, at hundreds of identical blades floating in midair. Wisps of fire soon faded away, leaving only bare steel behind.
And yet, she still didn't feel anything.
Avel used no magical energy to summon those weapons. At least she wasn't able to detect any.
"Does it mean I can keep this one?" she asked, ignoring the quickly disappearing wall of flames as the weapons faded away.
"Sure. I said those were 'failed attempts', but I think Bihev was just toying with me. He did accept a 'failed attempt' in the end, after all. So the sword you are holding should be as good as the original Midjinior. Ah!" his eyes widened in realization. "I almost forgot."
He lifted his hand, and a crimson spear materialized in his grip, a few more appearing on the ground.
"Take those. I couldn't finish them, but the bones you gave me were interesting. I tried making a spear out of them, but most broke into pieces. Still, some are at least somewhat decent. This one turned out the best."
Scathach put the large sword aside and took the red spear, examining the weapon. It didn't look like bone anymore, and she could feel some strange energies inside it, but if her teacher said it was 'decent', then it should be something beyond any human blacksmith.
She should be able to inscribe her runes on these. Maybe. It wasn't something she had much experience in, but it should be possible.
"Thank you, Teacher."
And like that, there was silence.
Avel was looking at her, his smile turned sad again, and she didn't know what to say. She was pushing it away since he arrived, but she knew they couldn't continue like this. With all the distractions out of the way, the ugly feelings bubbled up.
The contradicting desires to get out of Avel's shadow, out of his ever-present blanket of protection, and at the same time, a deep longing for his presence, for his approval.
It wasn't even anything wrong to want; it was just that … she still resented him for not being there back then.
And she hated herself for that.
She knew he had no choice. She knew she couldn't have him always taking care of her problems.
But it still hurt.
And when he tried to make his promise again, she rejected him, afraid to be hurt so again.
"Scathach," he said, and her heartbeat picked up, a sense of dread settling in her stomach. "You don't want my promise anymore, do you?"
She flinched, looking away.
"T-Teacher, I… " She struggled to find the correct words. "…I'm not a little girl anymore. You … don't need to protect me. I can take care of myself."
She tried to appear calm despite the burning in her eyes.
Avel's piercing golden eyes seemed to look right through her, though, as if he could see her every emotion. He regarded her for a few seconds, his smile never leaving his lips.
"I know." He finally said.
"It's not that I don't want to see you anymore, Teacher, but you don't need to spend all your time in Skye. I don't want to chain you until I'm dead. And, and you said I'm as good with a spear as you, right? So it's not like I'm helpless. I'll be fine even then if you aren't there."
"I know, Scathach. I know."
He patted her, like when she was still a little girl, even if he had to stand on his toes now to reach the top of her head.
It was nice, even if it made her feel like her words weren't reaching him.
But maybe he would always see the child he saved in her, no matter how much time passed.
"…"
"It was selfish of me, too. I didn't want to lose you but didn't think about your wishes. Here," he sat on a large boulder and patted the space beside him. "Let's sit and talk."
She sat, but the stubborn stinging in the corner of her eyes didn't go away completely. She stared ahead at sea and the sun slowly nearing the horizon.
"I won't make that promise, Scathach."
"Teacher, it's-"
"No. It was a stupid idea anyway. Especially when I was about to leave again. And you are right. You are strong enough to take care of yourself."
She closed her eyes, her shoulders sagging in relief, tension leaving her body upon hearing his words, and the gnawing ball of stress in her stomach, which she forgot was even there, faded away.
It was exactly what she wanted, but somehow, it made her feel like a child. As if she was the same little girl he had saved all those years ago again.
She fiddled with her fingers, "…I bet you could still defeat me ten times out of ten."
"Maybe. But I'm a fairy, and you are a human. It's unfair to compare yourself to beings like me. You don't have to call me 'Teacher' anymore, actually, as I have nothing more to teach you."
"What are you talking about? I'm sure there are tons of things you could still teach me. Besides, it would be strange to change it now. You will always be my teacher, Teacher."
"Hmph," he rolled his eyes, "So be it. I have Dienu calling me 'Red', so you may as well keep calling me 'Teacher'. Maybe one day someone will call me by my name." He laughed briefly for some reason. Scathach didn't think it was that funny. He looked to the side, at the shadowed cliffs. "…can you tell me what those 'shadows' are about?"
"…they are wraiths. Ghosts. At least, I think so. The… god that granted me my runes wasn't very clear about what's the deal with them."
"Ghosts, huh? Do you need my help with them?"
She shook her head, "It's something I'll have to take care of by myself, I think. For now, they are gathering in Skye. When I know more, I'll let you know, Teacher."
"Alright."
A comfortable silence fell upon them, and Scathach let herself smile a little.
Now she felt stupid about fearing this conversation. Did she really believe her teacher would … what, force his promise on her? Ignore whatever she was saying to him?
He wasn't like that.
He changed in those few months, sure, but he was still the same fairy she always knew. He just seemed more… not mature, exactly – the opposite, more like – but something close. He was calm, even when she rejected his promise again.
And yet, for some reason, it seemed like this was a farewell.
"What are you going to do next, Teacher? You said so yourself, I can take care of myself. And you are free of your promise with that Bihev, too, so you don't need to stay in my castle."
He thought about it for a moment, the setting sun casting his form in orange light, giving his red hair and golden eyes an otherworldly look. A hint of mystery hung around him, a sign of his inhuman nature. She could always sense it, but now it seemed stronger than ever.
"Hmm. Maybe you are right. I spent most of my life in Faery but didn't explore much of it. The same with the human world. I wonder if my old home is around yet."
"Wherever you go, you will always have a home in Skye, Teacher."
He grinned at her, "Don't worry, Scathach. I'll make sure to visit you often, even if I leave to travel around the world. I wouldn't want to miss your wedding, after all."
"Ha. I wonder about that. I won't marry someone weaker than me, and so far, nobody like that has appeared before me."
"That will be a challenge. I doubt there's someone like that nearby."
She stood up and stretched out her muscles.
The day was ending, yet she was full of energy. The doubts that weighed on her for so long were gone, and she felt lighter than ever, and an easy smile bloomed on her face.
"We will see." She said. "Now, let's go, Teacher. You don't have to leave immediately, so you can help me beat down my disciples. It will do them some good to see there are mountains they aren't ready to climb yet. I feel they're starting to think I'm weaker than they thought. A reminder is in order."
"It's a wonder so many still remain if that's how you treat them."
And so, they left for her castle, her teacher storing away the weapons he had gifted her for now.
The sun was half hidden behind the horizon, and the shadows of Skye lengthened, but for once, Scathach was optimistic. Her bond with Avel would never be the same as when she was a child, but it didn't mean it was worse now. They both changed, and so did their circumstances. She wouldn't cling to the past.
They will continue to change and grow in the future, but Scathach didn't fear it anymore.
She was sure they would be able to overcome any trial life has in store for them.
AN
The following few chapters will be essentially a collection of loosely connected short stories. Just a time skip to the next arc, really, but with things happening along the way.
Chapter 11 will be up in two or three weeks as I need to reshuffle some events and plot out the next arc.
Chapter 11 - Wanderer 1
Chapter 11 – Wanderer 1
Deep in the wilderness of Faery, Shirou arrived at a particular lake. A beautiful circular pool of crystalline blue water with a surface so still you could mistake it for a giant mirror. Large willows grew on its shores, leaning over the water like curious children peeking into another world, thin branches hanging just above the surface, yet not daring to disturb it.
And a portal to another world it was—a Gateway between the lands of fairies and the lands of humans.
Shirou walked onto the shore without hesitation, breaking the tranquility of the lake as ripples spread across its surface, distorting the reflection of the sky. Each step brought him deeper until the top of his head sank into the depths, and the lake returned to its perfect tranquility again.
Once the world of the fae disappeared from his sight, he found himself in an endless expanse of blue. No longer could he tell which way the surface was. The lakebed was gone, and the light seemed to come from everywhere. Yet Shirou didn't panic. He was a fairy, so it's not like he would drown from lack of oxygen. On the contrary, he felt at peace there. He could imagine himself closing his eyes and floating in this realm for eternity, letting time flow around him like the gentle currents of water did.
Shirou sighed, dismissing those thoughts. Maybe someday he would succumb to those temptations and waste away somewhere like this. But that future was still far, far away, he felt. For now, he focused on his power and pushed on reality, his Fairy Eyes guiding him in the correct direction.
He sank deeper, passing through intangible layers of the world until finally, he landed on the bottom of the lake.
And yet, it didn't look what you would expect. Instead of an empty plain of silt, he found himself on a small island of lush grass illuminated by dancing reflexes of golden sunlight. He didn't even feel like he was underwater anymore, and despite arriving from above, sinking from Faery, another lake surrounded the island he now stood on. A strange phenomenon, where the surface of this lake existed both above and below.
Was the surface above him where the land of the fairies was, and the one below him led to the human world, or was it the other way around? Well, that depended entirely on his Perspective. This was a world in between, a place caught halfway between Faery and the human world.
A domain of a certain Elemental and a Great Mother.
Shirou walked towards the center of the island, where a beautiful tower made of pristine white marble stood. A tall structure decorated with intricate carvings and colorful flowers, and a sizable fenced-off courtyard.
Why the owner of this place bothered with creating something like this, he wasn't sure. Really, what was even the purpose of this fence? It wasn't like just anyone could enter this location and rob it.
He jumped over the useless barricade and entered the tower through large wooden doors.
The inside of the building was larger than it should be, but that wasn't that strange in Faery, and this place technically counted as still inside the realm of the fae. It wasn't Shirou's first visit, and almost always something changed inside the structure. This time, the entire ground floor was just a single room, with columns lining the circular walls and the ceiling hidden far above. A torch burning with blue fire adorned each column, giving the large room an ominous atmosphere. The light of the blue flames barely reached the center, where an imposing marble throne stood on a pedestal. As the result, it shrouded the figure sitting on the throne in shadows, their glowing azure eyes a stark contrast to the darkness. The figure's icy gaze stared down at Shirou as if judging his worth. An aura of power filled the tower, pressing on Shirou's shoulders like a hand of a giant trying to crush him, to make him bend the knee. More power than all but a few beings he met in his life.
"You dare to enter my domain so easily, little fairy?"
"… what the hell are you doing, Vivian?"
"Avel!" The Lady of the Lake's haughty demeanor crumbled, her tone now flustered. "You are supposed to play along!"
Shirou narrowed his eyes and focused on his senses. Under Vivian's overwhelming aura, he smelled a familiar scent of boiling water. He sighed. Of course, it had to be her. Who else could be behind corrupting his kindest friend but a certain blue fairy.
"Oh, magnificent Lady of the Lake. I, Avel, a humble blacksmith, beg you for passage to the world of mortals," he said, playing it up.
"Hmph," Vivian snorted derisively, back in her cruel queen persona, "And why I should grant you that right? What could you possibly offer me in return for such a precious boon?"
"Why, the fruits of my craftsmanship, of course." He retrieved an ornate sword he was supposed to give her anyway. "I labored for long days to create this masterpiece, all so I could gift it to you, noble mistress of the lake."
He could hear muffled giggles coming from behind Vivian's throne, but at the sight of his weapon, the Elemental did away with her theatrics and a certain mischievous fae groaned in disappointment.
"Whoa! Show me, show me!" Vivian leaped from her throne, rushing towards Shirou, her long blue dress flowing behind her like water.
Amused, he offered the blade to the excited woman, watching from the corner of his eye as Dienu walked from behind the throne. As Vivian took the sword off his hands, the dark tower lit up with sunlight as large windows appeared all across the room. Shadows fled, and the ominous ambiance turned into a welcoming warmth.
"Beautiful," Vivian said as she examined the blade, lifting it above her head, and looking at it with wonder. "I wonder what hero will wield it."
"You are both hopeless," grumpy Dienu said when she approached them, but Vivian didn't seem to hear her, enamored with her newest weapon.
"Well, that's just how it is, Blue. And don't think I won't lecture you about corrupting Vivian."
"Excuse me? I? Corrupting her? Are you daft, Red? Should I remind you I'm the normal one here? It's more of a miracle that I'm not inflicted with your kind of madness from hanging out so much with you both."
Shirou laughed at his oldest friend's outraged expression, but the strange thing was, Dienu wasn't entirely wrong. She was the most 'normal' fairy among them.
Fae widely considered him a weirdo in Faery, with his penchant for helping those in need, expecting nothing in return, and gifting away many of his possessions. He wasn't unique in that regard, but he definitely took it to the extreme by fae standards. Even if his recent experiences tempered that somewhat, he was still getting himself involved with humans more than almost any other fairy.
Vivian was like that too, but she also had an obsession with 'heroes'. He didn't know where she got it from, but even Shirou considered her strange for her willingness to help so many mortals, only to watch them die soon after. And they almost always died. Mostly, because every human she gave her aid to was doomed already. Soldiers who had to face armies alone, warriors who lost everything and lived only to get revenge, orphans whose only lot in life was to die in some conflict.
And for it, she was known as the Champion of Hopeless Cases. An Elemental with a smile warmer than the best of summer days, and a heart colder than the harshest of winter nights.
Personally, Shirou thought she was just a good person. Too selfless, maybe, and definitively too kind for her own good, but he didn't see the darkness that the rumors hinted about. She was Dienu's friend, and for all their flaws, he met none of the blue fairy friends that were truly evil, even if the sight of Bihev still made him want to punch him in the face.
Still, he couldn't imagine how she could bear to watch so many of her precious humans die and remain sane.
Vivian lake was both in Faery and in the human world, and it was the Gateway he used to travel between worlds since Dienu introduced him to the Elemental. When the Lady of the Lake learned he was a master blacksmith from Nibelung, she asked him to forge her weapons for her 'heroes', and Shirou was happy to oblige, not only because it was nice to have someone appreciate his craftsmanship.
He may be enabling her by giving her so many weapons which usually end up in her favored 'heroes' hands, but she was a kindred spirit, he felt. Someone who saw how much pain there was in the world and wanted to help at least a little.
"Thank you, Avel," Vivian said with a grateful smile and dropped the sword to the floor, where it sank into the stone as if it was water, a small ripple disturbing the tiles momentarily. "So, how was my performance?" She asked with a shine in her eyes. "Impressive, right?"
"It certainly was something. Are you going to present yourself like this to your humans?"
"Perhaps. Dienu said I should, and it is fun to change things a bit, but I'm not sure if I can keep this act up for long. And wouldn't it scare them away?"
"Feh," Dienu sniffed dismissively, "If they bolt at something like this, they aren't worth much in the first place. Besides, you are an Elemental, Vivi, act like it!" The small fairy poked Vivian in the side. "You can't let everyone walk all over you!"
Vivian's expression, however, was uncertain. "But… they are so small and pitiful. I can't bring myself to act so cold all the time, Dienu. What if they think I don't like them?"
Shirou felt like this was an old argument, so he interrupted them before he would get stuck in this tower for the whole day.
"Vivian, Dienu, I'm going to the human world for some time. I'm not sure when I'll be back."
His friends stopped their bickering and looked at him, one with concern, and the other with suspicion.
"Do you need help, Avel?"
"Are you staying with Scathach again, Red?"
He shook his head, "No, it's not about Scathach and I don't really need help. I'm going to travel around for a bit. I never had a chance to before."
"Hmm, I don't think humans are any different elsewhere, but do whatever you want, I guess. Just try not to get involved too much this time."
"I see." Vivian said, "Ah, that reminds me, I will show you my collection when you are back, so if you happen to find any interesting weapons, do get some for me, please."
He smiled, "Sure, I will try."
"I thought you were already on your travels, Teacher."
"I was in Faery, actually," Shirou said to his student, "Dealing with some unresolved issues. But now that that's done, I can finally take my time to explore the human world."
They were sitting on a bench in the courtyard of Scathach castle, watching the Queen of Skye disciples train. It filled Shirou's heart with nostalgia. It felt like a much longer span of time, but not that long ago since he last time sat on this same stone bench. The events of Nibelung and later reunion with Scathach changed them both in a lot of ways. Mostly for the better, he hoped. But for all their relationship was stronger than ever, he felt like he didn't belong anymore. In Scathach's home, in her castle, he fell like an outsider. His little smithy was still there, in the courtyard corner, and he knew it would probably always be there for him, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was intruding on Scathach's life.
Since the day he acknowledged she grew up, that she 'graduated' from under him, so to speak, whenever he returned to Skye, his heart filled up with pride, but also a wistful melancholy because he knew she didn't need his help anymore.
He glanced at the barbed crimson spear propped against her shoulder. With her mastery of runes, she turned the simple bone spear he forged into something extraordinary. A weapon that would be at home among the best of Nibelung's masterpieces.
One of the training men approached them. A young boy, no older than twenty, with blue hair and red eyes. He carried his spear on his shoulders, with arms hanging on the haft lazily. His self-assured expression and cocky grin matched his confident aura, but there was something strange about him, even if Shirou wasn't sure what. He didn't look that different from any other kid that had yet to find he wasn't invincible and immortal on a battlefield.
"Teacher, are you gonna sit here all day? That's unusual of you." He then turned to Shirou. "And who's this pipsqueak? I didn't know you are into kids, Teacher."
Scathach narrowed her eyes and her spear traced an arc at the boy's head. The maneuver seemed simple and slow, but the entire action, from grabbing the weapon to finishing the move, happened in a fraction of a second. Yet, the boy still dodged. With supernatural reflexes and agility, he leaned back, narrowly avoiding having his head slapped by the flat of the spear's blade.
"Watch your mouth, Cu, or it will be your doom one of these days. This is Avel, my teacher in the spear arts. Your Grandteacher, I suppose."
"Huh?"
Cu's baffled expression was understandable, really. Shirou's glamour was just his fairy form with none of the unnatural features, so he looked like a child. He didn't bother with anything elaborate as he intended to only pay Scathach a brief visit, and it was annoying to keep up a complicated glamour when he didn't need to.
"This kid? Really?"
"Yes, so show some respect." Scathach replied and weaved him away. "Now off you go. If you have time to slack off, then you can help your fellow disciples train."
"Fine, fine. Keep your secrets, Teacher." Shirou could see curiosity in his aura, but Cu walked away anyway. "At least things will get more interesting soon."
"A spirited young man," Shirou said to the sighing Scathach when Cu was out of earshot.
"A bit too spirited, honestly. Still, he is my best disciple so far."
"Hmm. He smells weird." Scathach lifted an eyebrow at his random comment. "His magical signature."
"Ah. That's probably because his father is a god. Or so he says. I'm not sure how much of that is true, but he doesn't strike me as a liar, and something like this would be strange to claim out of nowhere. It would at least explain his physical capabilities. Magical too. I taught him some runes out of curiosity, and he has a talent for magecraft."
"He's good. Few can dodge your strike so effortlessly. But a demigod, huh? I guess there are still some around."
Shirou wondered for how much longer that would be true. He made a few quick visits to the continent, and the mana there was a lot more diluted than on the isles. He still wasn't sure what year it was currently, but the Age of Gods was near its end in most places, and he could almost feel the World brace for the shift into the next era.
Well, not like it mattered to him all that much. Phantasmal Species were retreating to the Reverse Side of the World for some time now, and not that many were left in the human world. Fairies didn't really care all that much as their Fairy Patterns were efficient enough in sustaining their existence that even in mana-poor environments they were relatively fine if somewhat weakened. The change in Mystery would be impossible to predict, but shouldn't affect most fairies in meaningful ways. It didn't hurt that fairies were Nature Spirits, and so the World itself would help them remain alive in the human world. Still, many choose to leave for Faery anyway. As human civilization expanded, fae habitats were shrinking, places of pure nature were less and less common, and most fairies weren't oddities like him or Vivian, so they ran away to Faery.
He shook his head. What will be, will be. There was no point in worrying about things he had no power to change.
"' Things will get more interesting soon'?" Shirou asked, repeating Cu parting words.
"Just Aife being Aife. It was too peaceful for some time now, so she is trying her luck again. She does it from time to time, so don't worry, Teacher, it's nothing I can't handle."
He looked at her, at her confident expression and unwavering aura. He wanted to offer his help anyway, but if Scathach said she doesn't need to worry, then he will let her be. As much as he wished to keep her safe, he would trust her word.
Even so, he had to at least ask her to bear him in mind.
"Alright. But Scathach, if something you can't take care of happens, call for me. I will try to get to you as soon as possible."
She smiled even if he could see her rolling her eyes. He knew he was being overprotective again, but he couldn't help it. Yet, unlike the girl from a few years ago, his words didn't stir any darker emotions. Maybe they both finally accepted that that side of him would never change.
"I know. Don't worry, Teacher. Go on your trip. I'll call for you when I truly need your aid."
Shirou looked into her red eyes, but he knew she was telling the truth.
"Good." He nodded and poked her on the forehead for her eye-rolling. "Make sure you remember that."
He set off from the Isle of Skye, strolling through the forests and plains, sometimes visiting towns and villages that he stumbled upon. He didn't have a goal in mind besides heading in the general direction of Japan, so he simply observed the life of humans and whatever else caught his interest.
After the war, the southern parts of the island were once again peaceful. Well, more or less peaceful. He witnessed an occasional battle, but those weren't the same full-scale wars of the past, just some scuffles between small tribes. Shirou didn't intervene in those, as it wasn't his business to solve every conflict in the world. He didn't even have to stop any senseless murder of civilians. The warriors in these skirmishes were content to just kill each other. Maybe he simply didn't encounter such an event, but he wanted to believe that people weren't always monsters.
He didn't spend all his time on humans, either. He met many interesting beings and places. Other fairies and Phantasmal Species. Many of the fae were familiar with his name and were eager to tell him about curious spots they knew about in exchange for a trinket or craft.
From hidden wonders of nature to mystical objects and sites. Many he was aware of beforehand, like Vivian's lake, others he saw for the first time. Some weren't immediately obvious, and for that, they were more fascinating. Hills that looked unremarkable, but were entrances to the secret enclaves of Aelfs, protected by glamour and fae magic. Simple rocks and trees that he couldn't tell the purpose of, but still called to his fairy nature, attracting his eyes nonetheless.
He spent a few months on the island before leaving for the continent.
Not much was different there. Humans were the same everywhere in his experience, just with a different language and looks. Shirou remembered little about Europe from his days as a human, so he couldn't be sure what country he was in, but then again, it probably didn't matter at all. Borders changed, and people migrated. So even if he had a map from the twenty-first century, it would be useless this far in the past.
The culture of humans on the continent was like that of the isles and varied little between the tribes he visited. It wasn't until he crossed a tall mountain range to the south that he found something different and vaguely familiar.
A large army clashing with another, but while one comprised soldiers with identical gear, the other was a collection of different smaller groups. In the end, the monolithic army won, capturing many of the losing army men.
He took a closer look under a glamour and inspected the weapons and armor of the soldiers with interest. The sword he picked up from the battlefield was better than any of the human make he ever saw. It was actually made from steel, if of poor quality. An interesting sword with a narrow 'waist'. He analyzed the armor on a few corpses, but it was made of bronze as he suspected.
The combination of the red armor padding and the strangely familiar shape of the sword jolted his memory.
"I think it was… Roman Empire?" Shirou mused, staring at the weapon his intuition called a gladius. "Or was it the Roman Republic?"
He wasn't sure, and honestly, it didn't matter that much. Although, from what he remembered, the Romans were supposed to rule most of Europe, but they seemed to be still conquering their home peninsula. It was a shame he didn't remember more from his elementary school history lessons, because even with this knowledge, he still didn't know what year exactly it was right now.
Shirou traveled south through the Roman lands. It was different from what he saw anywhere else. He didn't want to say more 'civilized', because Ireland and Scathach's lands weren't 'uncivilized', but the culture and architecture were… different. Something that wouldn't look strange far in the future. This civilization wasn't perfect, not by far, but it was peaceful. At least in the nation's interior. If the future he came from came to pass, he knew the battles like the one he saw on the borders of Roman lands would continue for centuries more.
But that was human nature, he supposed.
His next destination took him across the sea, from the southern tip of the Roman territories to the sands of Egypt. He wanted to see the pyramids.
There was something reassuring in seeing those vast tombs sticking out of the desert, knowing that there were things made by human hands that had endured for thousands of years already and would remain there for thousands more.
He was admiring the pyramids from up close when he sensed traces of magecraft. There were subtle bounded fields in many locations around the tombs. Curiously, he approached one, poking the lingering magical energies, but his knowledge of magecraft wasn't enough to recognize what it was supposed to do. The magi of Egypt probably set up some wards on those tombs when they were made, so it wasn't that strange, but he wondered if this was something newer.
The answer to that question, as he soon learned, was yes.
While he was busy entertaining himself by poking at unknown magecraft, an intricate web of magic traced itself far above him, forming a complicated circle full of mystic sigils. He only noticed it when the last symbol formed and the whole thing lighted up with magical energy.
He looked upward with an awkward expression on his face. He wanted to slap himself for being so careless. Fiddling with an unfamiliar magecraft he stumbled upon probably wasn't his best idea.
A wall of translucent purple light suddenly sprung up in a wide area around him, connecting to the circle above, and imprisoning him in a cage of magecraft. He could sense multiple sets of eyes on him, scrying him despite his glamour, and soon the magical circle flashed with power, a wave of force crashing into his shoulders and flattening the desert into a smooth surface. It wasn't anything that meant to hurt him, but he suspected it was just a measure to hold him in place. If that was the case, then Shirou wasn't about to play along.
He exploded into movement, kicking up a cloud of sand. In front of him, close to the wall of magecraft, a single sword materialized in a puff of golden-red flames. In a few seconds, he reached the barrier, just in time for Midjinior to cut a narrow hole in the spell for him to escape.
Once he was out, Shirou reinforced himself and ran toward the east, leaving behind whoever created that spell. He wasn't sure if they would chase him, but there was no reason to risk that, so he didn't intend to stop for a good while.
Still, he probably should be more careful in the future.
Shirou witnessed a lot of pain and suffering on his travels. He wasn't a stranger to war, but he usually saw it through the lenses of his student and it made the side that she fought against easier to kill. But since he left Skye, he tried to follow Dienu's advice and didn't get involved.
But it was hard sometimes.
Shirou stood at a treeline of a small forest, motionless. He watched as an old woman toiled in a rice paddy. She tended to withering plants as the harsh summer sun baked her from above. She wore a large woven hat that protected her from the sunlight. It was important because she had a toddler strapped to her back.
It was eerily silent, and only the sound of insects filled the air. There was nobody else in the fields. Just an old woman with a baby. Her aura was painful to see, so he pushed his Sight away. Even without his Fairy Eyes, he could still see the woman's hollow gaze, her skinny limbs mechanically planting more rice shots. She was just skin and bones, and the child was no better. The plants she tended to and the new ones she planted were barely clinging to life, much like the human that worked with them.
In the distance stood a half-destroyed cottage with a collapsed roof. A small building made of rice mats and bamboo wood. Behind it were the remains of a village, now just husks of burnt debris.
The aftermath of a war.
He didn't see it. It ended right as he arrived in these lands, but it must've been a terrible one. He saw battlefields filled with rotting corpses because there was nobody left to bury the dead. Entire towns and villages abandoned, left empty. Others burned to the ground, streets full of blackened bodies. He saw starvation and disease, murder, and theft. The darkest aspects of human nature were on display as shattered people fought for the scraps to survive. He saw those that gave up, broken souls waiting for death, filling the sidewalks and alleyways of every city.
And the worst part was, he was sure this wasn't unique. This wasn't the first brutal war in human history, and definitively not the last. He saw it in Ireland; he saw it at Skye, and he saw it many times on his travels. This was just the first time he saw it on such a scale.
He saw so much blood being spilled during his life, he almost couldn't believe the world wasn't permanently stained red by now.
"Why humans are so willing to kill each other?" Shirou voiced his thoughts.
"Probably because that's what they are best at." A melodious yet bitter voice responded from behind him.
He turned his head, looking at a beautiful woman garbed in tattered clothing. The fine fabric may one day have been something a queen would wear, but now it was nothing more than filthy rags. Yet the woman didn't seem to care. She held herself with regal bearing still, even as she glared hatefully at the old woman with the child.
She looked perfectly human, yet was anything but.
"Yu…"
"What? That's all they amount to. They kill and kill until nothing is left. If they only didn't reproduce like locusts, they would do the world a favor and die off already."
He sighed, closing his eyes.
Yu Mei-ren followed him since their disastrous first meeting, although he wasn't sure what she wanted from him anymore.
Shirou walked through a large city, one of the biggest he ever saw. A sprawling metropolis that was home to hundreds of thousands. The architectural style reminded him a little of his faraway past, of his hometown of Fuyuki.
And yet, his mood only worsened at the thought, because all the similarities only made the differences more apparent.
Death and decay filled the shadowed alleys. Starving beggars and refugees lined the gutters, their lifeless eyes staring ahead, making it hard to distinguish if they were dead or alive. The smell of disease and rot permeated the air, a cloying mixture that clung to the skin. He probably didn't even need his glamour to remain unseen for all the care the people here seemed to give each other.
Worse still was the view his Fairy Eyes provided.
An aura of fear and despair was so thick he could barely push through it. It only got worse the further into this country he got. From the rumors he overheard, a bloody conflict that was the source of all this misery was over, but things didn't seem to get better anytime soon if this city was any indication.
After an hour of wandering through the depressing town, Shirou was ready to simply leave, to run until this entire continent disappeared behind him. But right as he was about to, his nose picked up a curious scent.
A potent magical signature that smelled like blood.
He followed it, making his way through the labyrinth of narrow streets until he found himself on the outskirts of the metropolis. His nose pointed him toward a deserted part of the slums, a place filled with so many lingering curses that even regular humans avoided it unconsciously.
Still, something lived here. Shirou couldn't pinpoint where exactly, but the stench of blood lay heavy in the area. He walked on a bank of a wide river, among the remains of large warehouses, and tried to find whatever was hiding there. Something about that scent was familiar, and he didn't want to leave without checking it out.
Finally, after a few minutes of aimless wandering, he found what he was looking for.
Or, to be more exact, something found him.
With the sound of splintering wood, a tall figure burst through the warehouse wall behind Shirou and pounced on his back. It was fast, but not fast enough. In half a second, he turned on his heel and pulled a sword out of his Domain, blocking the assailant's strike. A quick exchange of blows followed, where he defended against two red blades, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He soon managed to kick it away and create some distance.
When he could finally take a proper look at the attacker, he was puzzled by what he saw.
A woman in tattered clothes, holding two crimson swords made of blood. Her long brown hair clung to her skin and her red eyes glared at him with intensity. She looked completely human, and yet he couldn't see her aura. His Eyes could see through any illusion, the truth of the world always laid bare before him, so she couldn't be using glamour. Shirou concentrated on his nose, and under all that blood was a faint scent of gold.
"…a fairy?"
She didn't like that word apparently, because she once again charged at him with a snarl.
The speed of her attacks increased, as did the weight behind her swords. She was a whirlwind of blades, striking from every angle, trying to overwhelm him with her two weapons. It was still within his ability to defend, however. Swordmaster, she was not, even if her speed and strength were beyond any human. Still, if he kept on just defending, this would go nowhere.
After another series of blocks and parries, Shirou's Fairy Patterns pulsed with light as he cast Reinforcement on himself. In a burst of speed, he slashed at her tight, opening a deep gash.
He winced at the sight. She may have attacked him without provocation, but he didn't want to hurt her too badly. He didn't know why she even assaulted him in the first place. Weren't they both fairies? It wasn't much, but he never met a fae that would just attack him at first sight.
"Wait! Stop this! Why the heck are we even fighting!?"
He tried to disengage, but the woman followed him, her weapons launching curved blades of blood he had to deflect. The wound on her leg didn't seem to bother her at all.
"Shut up!" She finally said, "If someone attacks you, you fight!"
He grit his teeth at that stupid logic. This whole thing was pointless, and yet he couldn't escape without hurting her. The woman was as fast on her legs as he was.
"Fine. But don't blame me later."
He pulled at his Domain, materializing five spears inches behind the woman's back. It took almost zero time, but she somehow sensed his weapons and tried to dodge them. But it was in vain. At this distance and speed, she had no chance of avoiding even a single one. She just started to move when all five struck her back and pierced out of her chest in geysers of blood. He avoided causing mortal wounds, only targeting points a fairy would survive, but it still looked gruesome.
The woman staggered, staring in surprise at the bloody shafts sticking out of her front.
"Ha!" She laughed through bloody teeth, lifting her head to look him in the eyes, "You will have to try harder than that!"
His eyes widened when she tore the weapons out of her flesh, leaving behind heavily bleeding holes. Did she have a death wish? He couldn't help but wonder. If she continued to fight in this vein, she would soon bleed to death.
Yet, she didn't seem to care at all. She flung herself at him again, blood trailing behind her and forming more bullets and blades of crimson liquid.
Shirou was once again on the defense, reluctant to go all out. He deflected and parried her attacks, even manifesting more weapons when the volume of bloody projectiles and blades became too much.
A fight between blood and iron raged for a few more minutes, destroying the abandoned slums before Shirou decided to end it, lest the humans of this city get caught in the crossfire.
With a heavy heart, he reached into his Domain gain, but his time, he didn't stop at just five spears.
In a single moment, thousands of weapons appeared around the woman in a burst of golden-red flames, biting into her flesh in a whirlwind of sharp steel, obscuring her form. It didn't take more than a second before the blades disappeared, but the damage was done.
A bloody chunk of meat fell to the ground, still alive, but almost unrecognizable as a human form. Missing all limbs, it was just a head attached to a mangled torso. Alive only by the virtue of being a fairy. If she survived, then that was that. But he had little hope. Even a fae sturdy body had its limits.
He stared blankly at the expanding pool of blood and the barely breathing fae within.
"… so pointless," Shirou whispered before walking away.
He didn't make it more than a dozen steps before he stopped.
"Y-You…" the woman's labored voice said, "Will have… t-to try harder… THAN THAT!"
The last words were a roar of sound and magic. As Shirou watched, the mana of the World rushed in to fill the space where the woman had once been, and a whirling pillar of blood now rose.
Intangible currents of mana rushed by him, streaming into the woman in ridiculous amounts. In a matter of seconds, her body healed completely, as if time was rewinding itself. It wasn't far from the truth; he realized. She wasn't healing, not really. He recognized this. How the World itself seemed to fix her injuries, leaving her without a mark to show she was hurt in the first place. She was a piece of the World, after all, so she simply returned to what she 'supposed' to be—whole and unhurt.
Shirou sighed, "Great. Just fantastic. An Elemental."
"You speak as if you aren't one!"
She attacked him with renewed vigor, a deadly dance of twin swords, each strike accompanied by bursts of magical energy. Shirou found himself on the defense again, deflecting heavy blows and dodging increasingly numerous blood attacks. He still occasionally cut his opponent, but he knew it was pointless. Even if he reduced her to a splatter of blood on the ground, she would still reform soon after. Such was the nature of the Elementals. Immortal beings that did not know death. At least Shirou didn't know how to kill one permanently.
Still, this was a problem. At this rate, he would lose by attrition after running out of magical energy, even if she couldn't land a good hit on him.
So he tried something different.
He reached for his Domain but didn't summon another weapon. No, his soul contained something else besides the mountain of swords. He pulled on the core of his being, and a wave of golden-red flames erupted all around the woman. She shrieked with pain and surprise as the sudden conflagration licked at her body, but even when she tried to leap out of the inferno, it didn't work. She was inside his Domain, after all, and the flames followed her wherever she went, boiling away her blood and burning her flesh. After a few failed attempts at escaping the fiery hell, she rushed him again, forgoing any defense and focusing on just attacking.
Shirou grimaced when they locked swords again. She looked wretched, with skin boiling off and blood crawling all over her form. Yet, the longer the fight went on, the more he suspected something was off.
He couldn't see her aura, but he could still read her eyes.
They were full of grief and pain. Something he saw too many times in his life. From soldiers who lost brothers on a battlefield to mothers who lost children to sickness. Those eyes reminded him of his first days with Scathach.
But the smile didn't match.
When she first attacked him, she didn't smile. She glared and frowned, but didn't smile. But now, her lips parted in a smile filled with hope and relief. Like she finally found something she was looking after for a long time, and it was almost within her grasp.
He didn't like the look of this smile and eyes.
At all.
"Stop this, damnit!" He yelled, trying to talk her down after disabling her again. "Can't you see this is pointless!?"
She didn't respond even after reforming and simply attacked him again, blood and swords flying at him.
He suspected she didn't even hear him anymore, her eyes full of desperation.
In the next few minutes, Shirou tried to pin the woman down with different weapons, searching through his collection for something capable of stopping an Elemental. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to work. Freezing the blood worked for a few moments, but she simply made more. Burning her to ashes with various effects didn't yield better results than his flames. Midjinior, the most common sword in his armory, was next to useless this time. Lighting, shadows, earth, and wind were all ineffective. She shrugged off any elemental effect, and he didn't have many blades with esoteric properties. The antimagic spear he made for Scathach worked a little, disrupting the woman's regeneration, but the result was negligible. Even with hundreds of Traced spears stuck in her body, she just took a few seconds longer to heal.
He needed something different.
His Domain held everything he ever crafted, no matter what fate his weapons met. There were tons of various metals there, remains of broken blades, most from his fight with the dragon in Nibelung.
It was time to make use of it.
Shirou kept the woman at bay for a moment, cutting her into mincemeat and forming a cage of swords to impede her regeneration.
He focused his thoughts, and his Perspective shifted.
He needed something to stop an Elemental. A weapon to bind a piece of the World into a physical form. To hold her in place and prevent her from turning intangible.
Lifting his hand, he called on his Domain. It was his soul. It was his Eternal Forge where the flames of his heart resided. A home of his creations. The truth of his very being.
His hand lighted up with golden radiance, his golden-red flames gathering in his grasp, channeling from the scorched battleground into a single point until a blinding star hovered above his palm.
He didn't need a hammer, his will alone would shape the steel.
He didn't need an anvil, his body would lay the foundation.
He didn't need a furnace, his soul was his forge.
His hand closed on the star, and a deep thud shook the surrounding, kicking up pebbles and disturbing the wrecked slums.
Something took shape in his grasp as he imbued the necessary concepts into the forming weapon. His Eyes studied the Elemental, how her body of blood flowed and regenerated, how the World fixed her wounds, how the mana flowed through her form.
It took less than a minute, the ground quaking faster and faster as he worked, until with a final twist of his will, the star flashed one last time and a sword appeared in its place.
A simple straight blade, with black and red patterns etched on its surface, forming a series of glyphs that carried meaning visible only in Fairy Eyes. Shirou admired the weapon for a few seconds before depositing it in his Forge, the sword disappearing in a puff of flames.
He turned to the woman. He had to put her down a few more times when he was forging, and yet despite the pain and her futile struggle, her eyes shined with hope as he Traced five copies of the newly created weapon. She watched the blades as if they would bring her salvation, and Shirou couldn't help but grimace.
He waited until she healed up, holding her in place with hundreds of gigantic swords before dismissing them all and firing the five he Traced. They hit her shoulders, stomach, and knees, pinning her to the ground.
She closed her eyes, a smile on her lips, but it quickly turned to confusion. When whatever she thought would happen failed to occur, she looked at the black and red swords with wide eyes.
"W-Wha-"
"I will not kill you," Shirou interrupted her. "I'm not sure I know how. Even if I could, I wouldn't. I don't know who you are, or what your story is, but I won't help you kill yourself."
Her shocked expression told him his suspicions were more or less correct. It only further soured his mood. This whole situation annoyed him from the beginning, and so Shirou decided to just leave. His Projections would fade on their own in about an hour, as he intentionally made them with very little magical energy, and by then he should be quite far away.
"You, don't…" she said, struggling feebly to free herself, but even when she detonated her body in an explosion of blood and magical energy, his swords remained intact, still pinning her in place when she reformed. "… don't you dare leave! "
Fed up, Shirou stopped despite himself. He wanted nothing more than to leave this woman, but she would probably chase him down anyway.
"No. Shut up and listen, lady." He pointed with his finger, accentuating his words. "I. Don't. Care." He bit out, irritated. "If you talked to me instead of attacking like a wild beast, then maybe I would listen, but you didn't, so don't you try to order me around. I'm sure that whatever tragedy befell you, it was heart-wrenching, but I've seen the like many times. I wouldn't mind helping you out, but not like this. So cool your head and try to think a little before you act, alright?"
He glared at her offended expression for a moment and left, this time resolute not to stop again. He might not be the best person to advise on how to deal with emotional pain and trauma, but this fairy irritated him like few ever did.
She did chase him down.
After she found Shirou again, she apologized for her behavior, although Shirou wasn't that angry anymore. He understood her a little, and after they both had time to calm down, they decided to never mention that incident again.
Yu Mei-ren, as he later learned was her name, was involved in the war that ravaged this land. Or rather, her husband was. She didn't tell Shirou the entire story, but her husband wasn't a human either, although he wasn't a fairy. He was some kind of mechanical puppet, apparently. How such a pair came to be, he couldn't imagine. But Yu clearly loved him, and when he got killed, she fell into despair. What happened after her husband's death that led to her hiding in the abandoned part of the city, she refused to tell, and he didn't pry.
They traveled across the war-torn country, mostly observing from afar. Yu hated humans for what they did to her beloved but didn't actively kill everyone she encountered, though she never missed the chance to leave a scathing comment.
"Is that how you see them?" Shirou asked.
"Am I wrong? I remember the times before I was Incarnated, when there weren't that many humans around. It was more peaceful then. The world was full of nature. Now, they are everywhere, crawling along every river, worming their way into every forest. They multiply faster with each passing century, flooding the world like a tide of overgrown vermin. And always, always, bringing along death and destruction."
Shirou contemplated her words. Despite the language she used, she wasn't entirely wrong. Humanity was growing, slowly taking over the world. The Age of Gods was in decline, and soon the Age of Man would take over. By the times of his childhood arrived, far in the twentieth century, there wouldn't be a single place in the entire world that humans didn't visit. From the highest mountains to the deepest of ocean trenches. Even outer space and the moon weren't spared. And with each step, humanity's capacity for war only grew.
"… maybe you aren't wrong. But humans are part of the World too. If they prosper more than the immortal races, then that's it."
Yet, Yu's skeptical expression told him she wasn't convinced.
"You say that, Avel, but I never saw immortals at war on the scale humans are capable of."
"Probably because there aren't that many of us in comparison. I saw fairies kill each other, and Fairy Kings have armies for a reason, even if I never experienced a true war in Faery. But when one of us goes berserk, we can destroy much more than what a single human could. I know humanity has great potential for evil, but also for good, and the fact that their lives are so short means each hour is more precious to them than it is to us. So they spend it all, trying to change the world, for better or for worse."
"So what, you think they are better for being moral?"
"No, but they aren't lesser. We don't age, but in exchange, we change slowly. Look at her," Shirou pointed at the old woman planting withered rice saplings, "does she have a century or two to grieve for those she lost? No. So even when her world lies in ruins, she still tries to move forward, despite the odds stacked against her."
"… she doesn't have two centuries to grieve, but she also won't experience so much pain in her brief life. Tell me, Avel, how many times did you see someone you cared about, die? How many times more will you go through it until you give up? I know humans aren't lesser for being mortal because I know immortality has its own downsides. But I still hate them," Yu said, glaring at the humans, "Their disregard for life, their own and others. Their cruelty and greed. Maybe it's unfair, but I lost too much by their hands to forgive them so easily."
Shirou kept his face blank, his eyes still focused on the old woman with the child. He watched as she tiredly worked in the pitiful field, her arms trembling with exertion.
How many times would he get involved? He didn't know. By the standards of immortals, he was young, not even four centuries old. He still cared, he still loved. He didn't think himself better than other fairies, even if his origins were strange, so there probably will come a time when he will hide away and refuse to care for mortals, but that was hopefully far in the future.
For now, he will try to follow his heart.
With a twist of his will, his form shifted. His hair turned black, his glowing eyes lost their luster, his child body grew into a young adult, and even his clothes changed from the usual red and black into faded brown.
Yu sighed when she noticed his glamour, "… so you are one of these. The meddling kind."
He turned his head to face Yu, giving her a small smile. "I'm young, Yu. You aren't the first to warn me about getting involved with mortals, and I know it can be painful, but I decided to follow my heart not that long ago. Who knows, in a few thousand years I may regret it, but for now, I'll do what I can to help out at least a little. To make the world a better place."
She didn't respond for a long moment, looking him in the eyes with an unreadable expression.
"Even if we can't die when it all gets too much?"
Shirou was sure he could die. He was a human turned fairy, and for all intents and purposes, his fairy nature took precedence. He was ageless, bound by fae laws, and even if others often mistook him for an Elemental, he wasn't immortal like Yu.
"I would like to think the future always leads to better times."
And so, a young man walked out of the woods, approaching an old woman toiling in a withering field. After a brief exchange, he started to help her, igniting a spark of hope in the woman's eyes. A little bit of light in the dark world.
All the while an Elemental watched from the forest edge.
"I hope you are right, Avel. I hope you are right."
Deep in the wilderness of Faery, Shirou arrived at a particular lake. A beautiful circular pool of crystalline blue water with a surface so still you could mistake it for a giant mirror. Large willows grew on its shores, leaning over the water like curious children peeking into another world, thin branches hanging just above the surface, yet not daring to disturb it.
And a portal to another world it was—a Gateway between the lands of fairies and the lands of humans.
Shirou walked onto the shore without hesitation, breaking the tranquility of the lake as ripples spread across its surface, distorting the reflection of the sky. Each step brought him deeper until the top of his head sank into the depths, and the lake returned to its perfect tranquility again.
Once the world of the fae disappeared from his sight, he found himself in an endless expanse of blue. No longer could he tell which way the surface was. The lakebed was gone, and the light seemed to come from everywhere. Yet Shirou didn't panic. He was a fairy, so it's not like he would drown from lack of oxygen. On the contrary, he felt at peace there. He could imagine himself closing his eyes and floating in this realm for eternity, letting time flow around him like the gentle currents of water did.
Shirou sighed, dismissing those thoughts. Maybe someday he would succumb to those temptations and waste away somewhere like this. But that future was still far, far away, he felt. For now, he focused on his power and pushed on reality, his Fairy Eyes guiding him in the correct direction.
He sank deeper, passing through intangible layers of the world until finally, he landed on the bottom of the lake.
And yet, it didn't look what you would expect. Instead of an empty plain of silt, he found himself on a small island of lush grass illuminated by dancing reflexes of golden sunlight. He didn't even feel like he was underwater anymore, and despite arriving from above, sinking from Faery, another lake surrounded the island he now stood on. A strange phenomenon, where the surface of this lake existed both above and below.
Was the surface above him where the land of the fairies was, and the one below him led to the human world, or was it the other way around? Well, that depended entirely on his Perspective. This was a world in between, a place caught halfway between Faery and the human world.
A domain of a certain Elemental and a Great Mother.
Shirou walked towards the center of the island, where a beautiful tower made of pristine white marble stood. A tall structure decorated with intricate carvings and colorful flowers, and a sizable fenced-off courtyard.
Why the owner of this place bothered with creating something like this, he wasn't sure. Really, what was even the purpose of this fence? It wasn't like just anyone could enter this location and rob it.
He jumped over the useless barricade and entered the tower through large wooden doors.
The inside of the building was larger than it should be, but that wasn't that strange in Faery, and this place technically counted as still inside the realm of the fae. It wasn't Shirou's first visit, and almost always something changed inside the structure. This time, the entire ground floor was just a single room, with columns lining the circular walls and the ceiling hidden far above. A torch burning with blue fire adorned each column, giving the large room an ominous atmosphere. The light of the blue flames barely reached the center, where an imposing marble throne stood on a pedestal. As the result, it shrouded the figure sitting on the throne in shadows, their glowing azure eyes a stark contrast to the darkness. The figure's icy gaze stared down at Shirou as if judging his worth. An aura of power filled the tower, pressing on Shirou's shoulders like a hand of a giant trying to crush him, to make him bend the knee. More power than all but a few beings he met in his life.
"You dare to enter my domain so easily, little fairy?"
"… what the hell are you doing, Vivian?"
"Avel!" The Lady of the Lake's haughty demeanor crumbled, her tone now flustered. "You are supposed to play along!"
Shirou narrowed his eyes and focused on his senses. Under Vivian's overwhelming aura, he smelled a familiar scent of boiling water. He sighed. Of course, it had to be her. Who else could be behind corrupting his kindest friend but a certain blue fairy.
"Oh, magnificent Lady of the Lake. I, Avel, a humble blacksmith, beg you for passage to the world of mortals," he said, playing it up.
"Hmph," Vivian snorted derisively, back in her cruel queen persona, "And why I should grant you that right? What could you possibly offer me in return for such a precious boon?"
"Why, the fruits of my craftsmanship, of course." He retrieved an ornate sword he was supposed to give her anyway. "I labored for long days to create this masterpiece, all so I could gift it to you, noble mistress of the lake."
He could hear muffled giggles coming from behind Vivian's throne, but at the sight of his weapon, the Elemental did away with her theatrics and a certain mischievous fae groaned in disappointment.
"Whoa! Show me, show me!" Vivian leaped from her throne, rushing towards Shirou, her long blue dress flowing behind her like water.
Amused, he offered the blade to the excited woman, watching from the corner of his eye as Dienu walked from behind the throne. As Vivian took the sword off his hands, the dark tower lit up with sunlight as large windows appeared all across the room. Shadows fled, and the ominous ambiance turned into a welcoming warmth.
"Beautiful," Vivian said as she examined the blade, lifting it above her head, and looking at it with wonder. "I wonder what hero will wield it."
"You are both hopeless," grumpy Dienu said when she approached them, but Vivian didn't seem to hear her, enamored with her newest weapon.
"Well, that's just how it is, Blue. And don't think I won't lecture you about corrupting Vivian."
"Excuse me? I? Corrupting her? Are you daft, Red? Should I remind you I'm the normal one here? It's more of a miracle that I'm not inflicted with your kind of madness from hanging out so much with you both."
Shirou laughed at his oldest friend's outraged expression, but the strange thing was, Dienu wasn't entirely wrong. She was the most 'normal' fairy among them.
Fae widely considered him a weirdo in Faery, with his penchant for helping those in need, expecting nothing in return, and gifting away many of his possessions. He wasn't unique in that regard, but he definitely took it to the extreme by fae standards. Even if his recent experiences tempered that somewhat, he was still getting himself involved with humans more than almost any other fairy.
Vivian was like that too, but she also had an obsession with 'heroes'. He didn't know where she got it from, but even Shirou considered her strange for her willingness to help so many mortals, only to watch them die soon after. And they almost always died. Mostly, because every human she gave her aid to was doomed already. Soldiers who had to face armies alone, warriors who lost everything and lived only to get revenge, orphans whose only lot in life was to die in some conflict.
And for it, she was known as the Champion of Hopeless Cases. An Elemental with a smile warmer than the best of summer days, and a heart colder than the harshest of winter nights.
Personally, Shirou thought she was just a good person. Too selfless, maybe, and definitively too kind for her own good, but he didn't see the darkness that the rumors hinted about. She was Dienu's friend, and for all their flaws, he met none of the blue fairy friends that were truly evil, even if the sight of Bihev still made him want to punch him in the face.
Still, he couldn't imagine how she could bear to watch so many of her precious humans die and remain sane.
Vivian lake was both in Faery and in the human world, and it was the Gateway he used to travel between worlds since Dienu introduced him to the Elemental. When the Lady of the Lake learned he was a master blacksmith from Nibelung, she asked him to forge her weapons for her 'heroes', and Shirou was happy to oblige, not only because it was nice to have someone appreciate his craftsmanship.
He may be enabling her by giving her so many weapons which usually end up in her favored 'heroes' hands, but she was a kindred spirit, he felt. Someone who saw how much pain there was in the world and wanted to help at least a little.
"Thank you, Avel," Vivian said with a grateful smile and dropped the sword to the floor, where it sank into the stone as if it was water, a small ripple disturbing the tiles momentarily. "So, how was my performance?" She asked with a shine in her eyes. "Impressive, right?"
"It certainly was something. Are you going to present yourself like this to your humans?"
"Perhaps. Dienu said I should, and it is fun to change things a bit, but I'm not sure if I can keep this act up for long. And wouldn't it scare them away?"
"Feh," Dienu sniffed dismissively, "If they bolt at something like this, they aren't worth much in the first place. Besides, you are an Elemental, Vivi, act like it!" The small fairy poked Vivian in the side. "You can't let everyone walk all over you!"
Vivian's expression, however, was uncertain. "But… they are so small and pitiful. I can't bring myself to act so cold all the time, Dienu. What if they think I don't like them?"
Shirou felt like this was an old argument, so he interrupted them before he would get stuck in this tower for the whole day.
"Vivian, Dienu, I'm going to the human world for some time. I'm not sure when I'll be back."
His friends stopped their bickering and looked at him, one with concern, and the other with suspicion.
"Do you need help, Avel?"
"Are you staying with Scathach again, Red?"
He shook his head, "No, it's not about Scathach and I don't really need help. I'm going to travel around for a bit. I never had a chance to before."
"Hmm, I don't think humans are any different elsewhere, but do whatever you want, I guess. Just try not to get involved too much this time."
"I see." Vivian said, "Ah, that reminds me, I will show you my collection when you are back, so if you happen to find any interesting weapons, do get some for me, please."
He smiled, "Sure, I will try."
"I thought you were already on your travels, Teacher."
"I was in Faery, actually," Shirou said to his student, "Dealing with some unresolved issues. But now that that's done, I can finally take my time to explore the human world."
They were sitting on a bench in the courtyard of Scathach castle, watching the Queen of Skye disciples train. It filled Shirou's heart with nostalgia. It felt like a much longer span of time, but not that long ago since he last time sat on this same stone bench. The events of Nibelung and later reunion with Scathach changed them both in a lot of ways. Mostly for the better, he hoped. But for all their relationship was stronger than ever, he felt like he didn't belong anymore. In Scathach's home, in her castle, he fell like an outsider. His little smithy was still there, in the courtyard corner, and he knew it would probably always be there for him, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was intruding on Scathach's life.
Since the day he acknowledged she grew up, that she 'graduated' from under him, so to speak, whenever he returned to Skye, his heart filled up with pride, but also a wistful melancholy because he knew she didn't need his help anymore.
He glanced at the barbed crimson spear propped against her shoulder. With her mastery of runes, she turned the simple bone spear he forged into something extraordinary. A weapon that would be at home among the best of Nibelung's masterpieces.
One of the training men approached them. A young boy, no older than twenty, with blue hair and red eyes. He carried his spear on his shoulders, with arms hanging on the haft lazily. His self-assured expression and cocky grin matched his confident aura, but there was something strange about him, even if Shirou wasn't sure what. He didn't look that different from any other kid that had yet to find he wasn't invincible and immortal on a battlefield.
"Teacher, are you gonna sit here all day? That's unusual of you." He then turned to Shirou. "And who's this pipsqueak? I didn't know you are into kids, Teacher."
Scathach narrowed her eyes and her spear traced an arc at the boy's head. The maneuver seemed simple and slow, but the entire action, from grabbing the weapon to finishing the move, happened in a fraction of a second. Yet, the boy still dodged. With supernatural reflexes and agility, he leaned back, narrowly avoiding having his head slapped by the flat of the spear's blade.
"Watch your mouth, Cu, or it will be your doom one of these days. This is Avel, my teacher in the spear arts. Your Grandteacher, I suppose."
"Huh?"
Cu's baffled expression was understandable, really. Shirou's glamour was just his fairy form with none of the unnatural features, so he looked like a child. He didn't bother with anything elaborate as he intended to only pay Scathach a brief visit, and it was annoying to keep up a complicated glamour when he didn't need to.
"This kid? Really?"
"Yes, so show some respect." Scathach replied and weaved him away. "Now off you go. If you have time to slack off, then you can help your fellow disciples train."
"Fine, fine. Keep your secrets, Teacher." Shirou could see curiosity in his aura, but Cu walked away anyway. "At least things will get more interesting soon."
"A spirited young man," Shirou said to the sighing Scathach when Cu was out of earshot.
"A bit too spirited, honestly. Still, he is my best disciple so far."
"Hmm. He smells weird." Scathach lifted an eyebrow at his random comment. "His magical signature."
"Ah. That's probably because his father is a god. Or so he says. I'm not sure how much of that is true, but he doesn't strike me as a liar, and something like this would be strange to claim out of nowhere. It would at least explain his physical capabilities. Magical too. I taught him some runes out of curiosity, and he has a talent for magecraft."
"He's good. Few can dodge your strike so effortlessly. But a demigod, huh? I guess there are still some around."
Shirou wondered for how much longer that would be true. He made a few quick visits to the continent, and the mana there was a lot more diluted than on the isles. He still wasn't sure what year it was currently, but the Age of Gods was near its end in most places, and he could almost feel the World brace for the shift into the next era.
Well, not like it mattered to him all that much. Phantasmal Species were retreating to the Reverse Side of the World for some time now, and not that many were left in the human world. Fairies didn't really care all that much as their Fairy Patterns were efficient enough in sustaining their existence that even in mana-poor environments they were relatively fine if somewhat weakened. The change in Mystery would be impossible to predict, but shouldn't affect most fairies in meaningful ways. It didn't hurt that fairies were Nature Spirits, and so the World itself would help them remain alive in the human world. Still, many choose to leave for Faery anyway. As human civilization expanded, fae habitats were shrinking, places of pure nature were less and less common, and most fairies weren't oddities like him or Vivian, so they ran away to Faery.
He shook his head. What will be, will be. There was no point in worrying about things he had no power to change.
"' Things will get more interesting soon'?" Shirou asked, repeating Cu parting words.
"Just Aife being Aife. It was too peaceful for some time now, so she is trying her luck again. She does it from time to time, so don't worry, Teacher, it's nothing I can't handle."
He looked at her, at her confident expression and unwavering aura. He wanted to offer his help anyway, but if Scathach said she doesn't need to worry, then he will let her be. As much as he wished to keep her safe, he would trust her word.
Even so, he had to at least ask her to bear him in mind.
"Alright. But Scathach, if something you can't take care of happens, call for me. I will try to get to you as soon as possible."
She smiled even if he could see her rolling her eyes. He knew he was being overprotective again, but he couldn't help it. Yet, unlike the girl from a few years ago, his words didn't stir any darker emotions. Maybe they both finally accepted that that side of him would never change.
"I know. Don't worry, Teacher. Go on your trip. I'll call for you when I truly need your aid."
Shirou looked into her red eyes, but he knew she was telling the truth.
"Good." He nodded and poked her on the forehead for her eye-rolling. "Make sure you remember that."
He set off from the Isle of Skye, strolling through the forests and plains, sometimes visiting towns and villages that he stumbled upon. He didn't have a goal in mind besides heading in the general direction of Japan, so he simply observed the life of humans and whatever else caught his interest.
After the war, the southern parts of the island were once again peaceful. Well, more or less peaceful. He witnessed an occasional battle, but those weren't the same full-scale wars of the past, just some scuffles between small tribes. Shirou didn't intervene in those, as it wasn't his business to solve every conflict in the world. He didn't even have to stop any senseless murder of civilians. The warriors in these skirmishes were content to just kill each other. Maybe he simply didn't encounter such an event, but he wanted to believe that people weren't always monsters.
He didn't spend all his time on humans, either. He met many interesting beings and places. Other fairies and Phantasmal Species. Many of the fae were familiar with his name and were eager to tell him about curious spots they knew about in exchange for a trinket or craft.
From hidden wonders of nature to mystical objects and sites. Many he was aware of beforehand, like Vivian's lake, others he saw for the first time. Some weren't immediately obvious, and for that, they were more fascinating. Hills that looked unremarkable, but were entrances to the secret enclaves of Aelfs, protected by glamour and fae magic. Simple rocks and trees that he couldn't tell the purpose of, but still called to his fairy nature, attracting his eyes nonetheless.
He spent a few months on the island before leaving for the continent.
Not much was different there. Humans were the same everywhere in his experience, just with a different language and looks. Shirou remembered little about Europe from his days as a human, so he couldn't be sure what country he was in, but then again, it probably didn't matter at all. Borders changed, and people migrated. So even if he had a map from the twenty-first century, it would be useless this far in the past.
The culture of humans on the continent was like that of the isles and varied little between the tribes he visited. It wasn't until he crossed a tall mountain range to the south that he found something different and vaguely familiar.
A large army clashing with another, but while one comprised soldiers with identical gear, the other was a collection of different smaller groups. In the end, the monolithic army won, capturing many of the losing army men.
He took a closer look under a glamour and inspected the weapons and armor of the soldiers with interest. The sword he picked up from the battlefield was better than any of the human make he ever saw. It was actually made from steel, if of poor quality. An interesting sword with a narrow 'waist'. He analyzed the armor on a few corpses, but it was made of bronze as he suspected.
The combination of the red armor padding and the strangely familiar shape of the sword jolted his memory.
"I think it was… Roman Empire?" Shirou mused, staring at the weapon his intuition called a gladius. "Or was it the Roman Republic?"
He wasn't sure, and honestly, it didn't matter that much. Although, from what he remembered, the Romans were supposed to rule most of Europe, but they seemed to be still conquering their home peninsula. It was a shame he didn't remember more from his elementary school history lessons, because even with this knowledge, he still didn't know what year exactly it was right now.
Shirou traveled south through the Roman lands. It was different from what he saw anywhere else. He didn't want to say more 'civilized', because Ireland and Scathach's lands weren't 'uncivilized', but the culture and architecture were… different. Something that wouldn't look strange far in the future. This civilization wasn't perfect, not by far, but it was peaceful. At least in the nation's interior. If the future he came from came to pass, he knew the battles like the one he saw on the borders of Roman lands would continue for centuries more.
But that was human nature, he supposed.
His next destination took him across the sea, from the southern tip of the Roman territories to the sands of Egypt. He wanted to see the pyramids.
There was something reassuring in seeing those vast tombs sticking out of the desert, knowing that there were things made by human hands that had endured for thousands of years already and would remain there for thousands more.
He was admiring the pyramids from up close when he sensed traces of magecraft. There were subtle bounded fields in many locations around the tombs. Curiously, he approached one, poking the lingering magical energies, but his knowledge of magecraft wasn't enough to recognize what it was supposed to do. The magi of Egypt probably set up some wards on those tombs when they were made, so it wasn't that strange, but he wondered if this was something newer.
The answer to that question, as he soon learned, was yes.
While he was busy entertaining himself by poking at unknown magecraft, an intricate web of magic traced itself far above him, forming a complicated circle full of mystic sigils. He only noticed it when the last symbol formed and the whole thing lighted up with magical energy.
He looked upward with an awkward expression on his face. He wanted to slap himself for being so careless. Fiddling with an unfamiliar magecraft he stumbled upon probably wasn't his best idea.
A wall of translucent purple light suddenly sprung up in a wide area around him, connecting to the circle above, and imprisoning him in a cage of magecraft. He could sense multiple sets of eyes on him, scrying him despite his glamour, and soon the magical circle flashed with power, a wave of force crashing into his shoulders and flattening the desert into a smooth surface. It wasn't anything that meant to hurt him, but he suspected it was just a measure to hold him in place. If that was the case, then Shirou wasn't about to play along.
He exploded into movement, kicking up a cloud of sand. In front of him, close to the wall of magecraft, a single sword materialized in a puff of golden-red flames. In a few seconds, he reached the barrier, just in time for Midjinior to cut a narrow hole in the spell for him to escape.
Once he was out, Shirou reinforced himself and ran toward the east, leaving behind whoever created that spell. He wasn't sure if they would chase him, but there was no reason to risk that, so he didn't intend to stop for a good while.
Still, he probably should be more careful in the future.
Shirou witnessed a lot of pain and suffering on his travels. He wasn't a stranger to war, but he usually saw it through the lenses of his student and it made the side that she fought against easier to kill. But since he left Skye, he tried to follow Dienu's advice and didn't get involved.
But it was hard sometimes.
Shirou stood at a treeline of a small forest, motionless. He watched as an old woman toiled in a rice paddy. She tended to withering plants as the harsh summer sun baked her from above. She wore a large woven hat that protected her from the sunlight. It was important because she had a toddler strapped to her back.
It was eerily silent, and only the sound of insects filled the air. There was nobody else in the fields. Just an old woman with a baby. Her aura was painful to see, so he pushed his Sight away. Even without his Fairy Eyes, he could still see the woman's hollow gaze, her skinny limbs mechanically planting more rice shots. She was just skin and bones, and the child was no better. The plants she tended to and the new ones she planted were barely clinging to life, much like the human that worked with them.
In the distance stood a half-destroyed cottage with a collapsed roof. A small building made of rice mats and bamboo wood. Behind it were the remains of a village, now just husks of burnt debris.
The aftermath of a war.
He didn't see it. It ended right as he arrived in these lands, but it must've been a terrible one. He saw battlefields filled with rotting corpses because there was nobody left to bury the dead. Entire towns and villages abandoned, left empty. Others burned to the ground, streets full of blackened bodies. He saw starvation and disease, murder, and theft. The darkest aspects of human nature were on display as shattered people fought for the scraps to survive. He saw those that gave up, broken souls waiting for death, filling the sidewalks and alleyways of every city.
And the worst part was, he was sure this wasn't unique. This wasn't the first brutal war in human history, and definitively not the last. He saw it in Ireland; he saw it at Skye, and he saw it many times on his travels. This was just the first time he saw it on such a scale.
He saw so much blood being spilled during his life, he almost couldn't believe the world wasn't permanently stained red by now.
"Why humans are so willing to kill each other?" Shirou voiced his thoughts.
"Probably because that's what they are best at." A melodious yet bitter voice responded from behind him.
He turned his head, looking at a beautiful woman garbed in tattered clothing. The fine fabric may one day have been something a queen would wear, but now it was nothing more than filthy rags. Yet the woman didn't seem to care. She held herself with regal bearing still, even as she glared hatefully at the old woman with the child.
She looked perfectly human, yet was anything but.
"Yu…"
"What? That's all they amount to. They kill and kill until nothing is left. If they only didn't reproduce like locusts, they would do the world a favor and die off already."
He sighed, closing his eyes.
Yu Mei-ren followed him since their disastrous first meeting, although he wasn't sure what she wanted from him anymore.
Shirou walked through a large city, one of the biggest he ever saw. A sprawling metropolis that was home to hundreds of thousands. The architectural style reminded him a little of his faraway past, of his hometown of Fuyuki.
And yet, his mood only worsened at the thought, because all the similarities only made the differences more apparent.
Death and decay filled the shadowed alleys. Starving beggars and refugees lined the gutters, their lifeless eyes staring ahead, making it hard to distinguish if they were dead or alive. The smell of disease and rot permeated the air, a cloying mixture that clung to the skin. He probably didn't even need his glamour to remain unseen for all the care the people here seemed to give each other.
Worse still was the view his Fairy Eyes provided.
An aura of fear and despair was so thick he could barely push through it. It only got worse the further into this country he got. From the rumors he overheard, a bloody conflict that was the source of all this misery was over, but things didn't seem to get better anytime soon if this city was any indication.
After an hour of wandering through the depressing town, Shirou was ready to simply leave, to run until this entire continent disappeared behind him. But right as he was about to, his nose picked up a curious scent.
A potent magical signature that smelled like blood.
He followed it, making his way through the labyrinth of narrow streets until he found himself on the outskirts of the metropolis. His nose pointed him toward a deserted part of the slums, a place filled with so many lingering curses that even regular humans avoided it unconsciously.
Still, something lived here. Shirou couldn't pinpoint where exactly, but the stench of blood lay heavy in the area. He walked on a bank of a wide river, among the remains of large warehouses, and tried to find whatever was hiding there. Something about that scent was familiar, and he didn't want to leave without checking it out.
Finally, after a few minutes of aimless wandering, he found what he was looking for.
Or, to be more exact, something found him.
With the sound of splintering wood, a tall figure burst through the warehouse wall behind Shirou and pounced on his back. It was fast, but not fast enough. In half a second, he turned on his heel and pulled a sword out of his Domain, blocking the assailant's strike. A quick exchange of blows followed, where he defended against two red blades, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He soon managed to kick it away and create some distance.
When he could finally take a proper look at the attacker, he was puzzled by what he saw.
A woman in tattered clothes, holding two crimson swords made of blood. Her long brown hair clung to her skin and her red eyes glared at him with intensity. She looked completely human, and yet he couldn't see her aura. His Eyes could see through any illusion, the truth of the world always laid bare before him, so she couldn't be using glamour. Shirou concentrated on his nose, and under all that blood was a faint scent of gold.
"…a fairy?"
She didn't like that word apparently, because she once again charged at him with a snarl.
The speed of her attacks increased, as did the weight behind her swords. She was a whirlwind of blades, striking from every angle, trying to overwhelm him with her two weapons. It was still within his ability to defend, however. Swordmaster, she was not, even if her speed and strength were beyond any human. Still, if he kept on just defending, this would go nowhere.
After another series of blocks and parries, Shirou's Fairy Patterns pulsed with light as he cast Reinforcement on himself. In a burst of speed, he slashed at her tight, opening a deep gash.
He winced at the sight. She may have attacked him without provocation, but he didn't want to hurt her too badly. He didn't know why she even assaulted him in the first place. Weren't they both fairies? It wasn't much, but he never met a fae that would just attack him at first sight.
"Wait! Stop this! Why the heck are we even fighting!?"
He tried to disengage, but the woman followed him, her weapons launching curved blades of blood he had to deflect. The wound on her leg didn't seem to bother her at all.
"Shut up!" She finally said, "If someone attacks you, you fight!"
He grit his teeth at that stupid logic. This whole thing was pointless, and yet he couldn't escape without hurting her. The woman was as fast on her legs as he was.
"Fine. But don't blame me later."
He pulled at his Domain, materializing five spears inches behind the woman's back. It took almost zero time, but she somehow sensed his weapons and tried to dodge them. But it was in vain. At this distance and speed, she had no chance of avoiding even a single one. She just started to move when all five struck her back and pierced out of her chest in geysers of blood. He avoided causing mortal wounds, only targeting points a fairy would survive, but it still looked gruesome.
The woman staggered, staring in surprise at the bloody shafts sticking out of her front.
"Ha!" She laughed through bloody teeth, lifting her head to look him in the eyes, "You will have to try harder than that!"
His eyes widened when she tore the weapons out of her flesh, leaving behind heavily bleeding holes. Did she have a death wish? He couldn't help but wonder. If she continued to fight in this vein, she would soon bleed to death.
Yet, she didn't seem to care at all. She flung herself at him again, blood trailing behind her and forming more bullets and blades of crimson liquid.
Shirou was once again on the defense, reluctant to go all out. He deflected and parried her attacks, even manifesting more weapons when the volume of bloody projectiles and blades became too much.
A fight between blood and iron raged for a few more minutes, destroying the abandoned slums before Shirou decided to end it, lest the humans of this city get caught in the crossfire.
With a heavy heart, he reached into his Domain gain, but his time, he didn't stop at just five spears.
In a single moment, thousands of weapons appeared around the woman in a burst of golden-red flames, biting into her flesh in a whirlwind of sharp steel, obscuring her form. It didn't take more than a second before the blades disappeared, but the damage was done.
A bloody chunk of meat fell to the ground, still alive, but almost unrecognizable as a human form. Missing all limbs, it was just a head attached to a mangled torso. Alive only by the virtue of being a fairy. If she survived, then that was that. But he had little hope. Even a fae sturdy body had its limits.
He stared blankly at the expanding pool of blood and the barely breathing fae within.
"… so pointless," Shirou whispered before walking away.
He didn't make it more than a dozen steps before he stopped.
"Y-You…" the woman's labored voice said, "Will have… t-to try harder… THAN THAT!"
The last words were a roar of sound and magic. As Shirou watched, the mana of the World rushed in to fill the space where the woman had once been, and a whirling pillar of blood now rose.
Intangible currents of mana rushed by him, streaming into the woman in ridiculous amounts. In a matter of seconds, her body healed completely, as if time was rewinding itself. It wasn't far from the truth; he realized. She wasn't healing, not really. He recognized this. How the World itself seemed to fix her injuries, leaving her without a mark to show she was hurt in the first place. She was a piece of the World, after all, so she simply returned to what she 'supposed' to be—whole and unhurt.
Shirou sighed, "Great. Just fantastic. An Elemental."
"You speak as if you aren't one!"
She attacked him with renewed vigor, a deadly dance of twin swords, each strike accompanied by bursts of magical energy. Shirou found himself on the defense again, deflecting heavy blows and dodging increasingly numerous blood attacks. He still occasionally cut his opponent, but he knew it was pointless. Even if he reduced her to a splatter of blood on the ground, she would still reform soon after. Such was the nature of the Elementals. Immortal beings that did not know death. At least Shirou didn't know how to kill one permanently.
Still, this was a problem. At this rate, he would lose by attrition after running out of magical energy, even if she couldn't land a good hit on him.
So he tried something different.
He reached for his Domain but didn't summon another weapon. No, his soul contained something else besides the mountain of swords. He pulled on the core of his being, and a wave of golden-red flames erupted all around the woman. She shrieked with pain and surprise as the sudden conflagration licked at her body, but even when she tried to leap out of the inferno, it didn't work. She was inside his Domain, after all, and the flames followed her wherever she went, boiling away her blood and burning her flesh. After a few failed attempts at escaping the fiery hell, she rushed him again, forgoing any defense and focusing on just attacking.
Shirou grimaced when they locked swords again. She looked wretched, with skin boiling off and blood crawling all over her form. Yet, the longer the fight went on, the more he suspected something was off.
He couldn't see her aura, but he could still read her eyes.
They were full of grief and pain. Something he saw too many times in his life. From soldiers who lost brothers on a battlefield to mothers who lost children to sickness. Those eyes reminded him of his first days with Scathach.
But the smile didn't match.
When she first attacked him, she didn't smile. She glared and frowned, but didn't smile. But now, her lips parted in a smile filled with hope and relief. Like she finally found something she was looking after for a long time, and it was almost within her grasp.
He didn't like the look of this smile and eyes.
At all.
"Stop this, damnit!" He yelled, trying to talk her down after disabling her again. "Can't you see this is pointless!?"
She didn't respond even after reforming and simply attacked him again, blood and swords flying at him.
He suspected she didn't even hear him anymore, her eyes full of desperation.
In the next few minutes, Shirou tried to pin the woman down with different weapons, searching through his collection for something capable of stopping an Elemental. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to work. Freezing the blood worked for a few moments, but she simply made more. Burning her to ashes with various effects didn't yield better results than his flames. Midjinior, the most common sword in his armory, was next to useless this time. Lighting, shadows, earth, and wind were all ineffective. She shrugged off any elemental effect, and he didn't have many blades with esoteric properties. The antimagic spear he made for Scathach worked a little, disrupting the woman's regeneration, but the result was negligible. Even with hundreds of Traced spears stuck in her body, she just took a few seconds longer to heal.
He needed something different.
His Domain held everything he ever crafted, no matter what fate his weapons met. There were tons of various metals there, remains of broken blades, most from his fight with the dragon in Nibelung.
It was time to make use of it.
Shirou kept the woman at bay for a moment, cutting her into mincemeat and forming a cage of swords to impede her regeneration.
He focused his thoughts, and his Perspective shifted.
He needed something to stop an Elemental. A weapon to bind a piece of the World into a physical form. To hold her in place and prevent her from turning intangible.
Lifting his hand, he called on his Domain. It was his soul. It was his Eternal Forge where the flames of his heart resided. A home of his creations. The truth of his very being.
His hand lighted up with golden radiance, his golden-red flames gathering in his grasp, channeling from the scorched battleground into a single point until a blinding star hovered above his palm.
He didn't need a hammer, his will alone would shape the steel.
He didn't need an anvil, his body would lay the foundation.
He didn't need a furnace, his soul was his forge.
His hand closed on the star, and a deep thud shook the surrounding, kicking up pebbles and disturbing the wrecked slums.
Something took shape in his grasp as he imbued the necessary concepts into the forming weapon. His Eyes studied the Elemental, how her body of blood flowed and regenerated, how the World fixed her wounds, how the mana flowed through her form.
It took less than a minute, the ground quaking faster and faster as he worked, until with a final twist of his will, the star flashed one last time and a sword appeared in its place.
A simple straight blade, with black and red patterns etched on its surface, forming a series of glyphs that carried meaning visible only in Fairy Eyes. Shirou admired the weapon for a few seconds before depositing it in his Forge, the sword disappearing in a puff of flames.
He turned to the woman. He had to put her down a few more times when he was forging, and yet despite the pain and her futile struggle, her eyes shined with hope as he Traced five copies of the newly created weapon. She watched the blades as if they would bring her salvation, and Shirou couldn't help but grimace.
He waited until she healed up, holding her in place with hundreds of gigantic swords before dismissing them all and firing the five he Traced. They hit her shoulders, stomach, and knees, pinning her to the ground.
She closed her eyes, a smile on her lips, but it quickly turned to confusion. When whatever she thought would happen failed to occur, she looked at the black and red swords with wide eyes.
"W-Wha-"
"I will not kill you," Shirou interrupted her. "I'm not sure I know how. Even if I could, I wouldn't. I don't know who you are, or what your story is, but I won't help you kill yourself."
Her shocked expression told him his suspicions were more or less correct. It only further soured his mood. This whole situation annoyed him from the beginning, and so Shirou decided to just leave. His Projections would fade on their own in about an hour, as he intentionally made them with very little magical energy, and by then he should be quite far away.
"You, don't…" she said, struggling feebly to free herself, but even when she detonated her body in an explosion of blood and magical energy, his swords remained intact, still pinning her in place when she reformed. "… don't you dare leave! "
Fed up, Shirou stopped despite himself. He wanted nothing more than to leave this woman, but she would probably chase him down anyway.
"No. Shut up and listen, lady." He pointed with his finger, accentuating his words. "I. Don't. Care." He bit out, irritated. "If you talked to me instead of attacking like a wild beast, then maybe I would listen, but you didn't, so don't you try to order me around. I'm sure that whatever tragedy befell you, it was heart-wrenching, but I've seen the like many times. I wouldn't mind helping you out, but not like this. So cool your head and try to think a little before you act, alright?"
He glared at her offended expression for a moment and left, this time resolute not to stop again. He might not be the best person to advise on how to deal with emotional pain and trauma, but this fairy irritated him like few ever did.
She did chase him down.
After she found Shirou again, she apologized for her behavior, although Shirou wasn't that angry anymore. He understood her a little, and after they both had time to calm down, they decided to never mention that incident again.
Yu Mei-ren, as he later learned was her name, was involved in the war that ravaged this land. Or rather, her husband was. She didn't tell Shirou the entire story, but her husband wasn't a human either, although he wasn't a fairy. He was some kind of mechanical puppet, apparently. How such a pair came to be, he couldn't imagine. But Yu clearly loved him, and when he got killed, she fell into despair. What happened after her husband's death that led to her hiding in the abandoned part of the city, she refused to tell, and he didn't pry.
They traveled across the war-torn country, mostly observing from afar. Yu hated humans for what they did to her beloved but didn't actively kill everyone she encountered, though she never missed the chance to leave a scathing comment.
"Is that how you see them?" Shirou asked.
"Am I wrong? I remember the times before I was Incarnated, when there weren't that many humans around. It was more peaceful then. The world was full of nature. Now, they are everywhere, crawling along every river, worming their way into every forest. They multiply faster with each passing century, flooding the world like a tide of overgrown vermin. And always, always, bringing along death and destruction."
Shirou contemplated her words. Despite the language she used, she wasn't entirely wrong. Humanity was growing, slowly taking over the world. The Age of Gods was in decline, and soon the Age of Man would take over. By the times of his childhood arrived, far in the twentieth century, there wouldn't be a single place in the entire world that humans didn't visit. From the highest mountains to the deepest of ocean trenches. Even outer space and the moon weren't spared. And with each step, humanity's capacity for war only grew.
"… maybe you aren't wrong. But humans are part of the World too. If they prosper more than the immortal races, then that's it."
Yet, Yu's skeptical expression told him she wasn't convinced.
"You say that, Avel, but I never saw immortals at war on the scale humans are capable of."
"Probably because there aren't that many of us in comparison. I saw fairies kill each other, and Fairy Kings have armies for a reason, even if I never experienced a true war in Faery. But when one of us goes berserk, we can destroy much more than what a single human could. I know humanity has great potential for evil, but also for good, and the fact that their lives are so short means each hour is more precious to them than it is to us. So they spend it all, trying to change the world, for better or for worse."
"So what, you think they are better for being moral?"
"No, but they aren't lesser. We don't age, but in exchange, we change slowly. Look at her," Shirou pointed at the old woman planting withered rice saplings, "does she have a century or two to grieve for those she lost? No. So even when her world lies in ruins, she still tries to move forward, despite the odds stacked against her."
"… she doesn't have two centuries to grieve, but she also won't experience so much pain in her brief life. Tell me, Avel, how many times did you see someone you cared about, die? How many times more will you go through it until you give up? I know humans aren't lesser for being mortal because I know immortality has its own downsides. But I still hate them," Yu said, glaring at the humans, "Their disregard for life, their own and others. Their cruelty and greed. Maybe it's unfair, but I lost too much by their hands to forgive them so easily."
Shirou kept his face blank, his eyes still focused on the old woman with the child. He watched as she tiredly worked in the pitiful field, her arms trembling with exertion.
How many times would he get involved? He didn't know. By the standards of immortals, he was young, not even four centuries old. He still cared, he still loved. He didn't think himself better than other fairies, even if his origins were strange, so there probably will come a time when he will hide away and refuse to care for mortals, but that was hopefully far in the future.
For now, he will try to follow his heart.
With a twist of his will, his form shifted. His hair turned black, his glowing eyes lost their luster, his child body grew into a young adult, and even his clothes changed from the usual red and black into faded brown.
Yu sighed when she noticed his glamour, "… so you are one of these. The meddling kind."
He turned his head to face Yu, giving her a small smile. "I'm young, Yu. You aren't the first to warn me about getting involved with mortals, and I know it can be painful, but I decided to follow my heart not that long ago. Who knows, in a few thousand years I may regret it, but for now, I'll do what I can to help out at least a little. To make the world a better place."
She didn't respond for a long moment, looking him in the eyes with an unreadable expression.
"Even if we can't die when it all gets too much?"
Shirou was sure he could die. He was a human turned fairy, and for all intents and purposes, his fairy nature took precedence. He was ageless, bound by fae laws, and even if others often mistook him for an Elemental, he wasn't immortal like Yu.
"I would like to think the future always leads to better times."
And so, a young man walked out of the woods, approaching an old woman toiling in a withering field. After a brief exchange, he started to help her, igniting a spark of hope in the woman's eyes. A little bit of light in the dark world.
All the while an Elemental watched from the forest edge.
"I hope you are right, Avel. I hope you are right."
Did the foundation for modern magecraft get put down yet? Or can he use reinforcement because he thinks that's how it works and his face parts enable it? Also did someone correct him about nerve circuits at some point when using human magic or did they teach him the fae equivalent?
Does Shirou not want to improve as a blacksmith? He could have learned magic from Scatach or from the different places he's visited. He's saw how she added runes to complete his spear.
Does Shirou not want to improve as a blacksmith? He could have learned magic from Scatach or from the different places he's visited. He's saw how she added runes to complete his spear.
His Fairy Patterns are always activated so he didn't need to convert his nerves into circuits since he arrived in Faery. Fairy Patterns also help him use his magecraft, as they work differently from regular Magic Circuits, instead of 'actualizing' mystery, they 'create' it so to speak. It's a mix of that and his fae nature that let him affect the World, bending reality in a limited manner. Belief and experience are important for fairy magic, so since he believes he should be able to cast Reinforcement and remembers how to do it, he can actually pull it off, even if he separates 'magecraft' from 'fairy magic' in his mind. So basically, he can use his magecraft because he thinks he can and nobody told him he shouldn't be able to. And there's his Reality Marble too. Since he created his Domain/Eternal Forge, he doesn't even need his aria to perform his magecraft.
About his blacksmithing, he did learn about runes from Scathach. It's just that these next few chapters are full of time-skips, so I won't show everything that happens. This chapter for example occurred over the span of around a year, where he spent a few days with Vivian and then Scathach before setting off on his journey.
Zedman7054
Eternally 3rd
- Location
- United States
I wonder if Scathacth will be strong enough to defeat Aife since she was trained by Shirou. It would be a fairly massive change to Cu's legend, not tricking and defeating Aife means he doesn't have her bear his child, which means not being tricked in turn to kill him.
Getting involved with Yu is great. Another source of immortal wisdom and friendship for him might be good for him.
Getting involved with Yu is great. Another source of immortal wisdom and friendship for him might be good for him.
Chapter 12 - Wanderer 2
Chapter 12 – Wanderer 2
After close to four hundred years since Shirou arrived in the past, he rarely thought about the 'modern' times of the twenty-first century. He still remembered much, but those few years of his childhood were just a fraction of his life by now, no matter how much they shaped him. His common sense changed and adapted to his new circumstances. When he thought about war, he imagined warriors garbed in metal armor and wielding melee weapons. To travel was to walk or run through forests and hills. Cars, trains, and planes were almost a foreign concept. A city was wood and stone, not glass and steel. Even the flow of time itself seemed different. A decade was just a brief moment, and the idea of working on a blacksmithing project for years without a break was normal. And when he thought of home, an image of a forge deep in Faery and a castle of his student appeared in his mind, not a large Japanese building.
Yet standing where his childhood house in Fuyuki should be, but there was nothing besides wilderness for miles in every direction, was surreal.
Shirou slowly walked through the dense forest, imagining the wooden panels under his feet, the familiar white walls, and the scent of fresh laundry. He couldn't be sure this was the exact spot, but something told him he wasn't wrong. He recognized Mount Enzou, where Ryuudou Temple would be. The Mion River that cut a straight path to the sea. Those were the landmarks that wouldn't change for thousands of years, so even with no manmade structures, he knew this was the future Fuyuki.
He stopped and closed his eyes.
Nothing but the chirping of birds and the sounds of wind reached him, the light breeze carrying the forest fragrance, pure and untouched. It would be hundreds of years before the first humans settled here, and hundreds more before he was born. For now, it was a place of nature, wild and untamed. A small smile tugged at his lips as he lost himself in the peaceful silence.
It was… nice.
A few minutes later, he sighed. Once again he looked around, but there was nothing here. Just a forest. Shaking his head, he took off towards the mountain. This place was making him feel nostalgic. His past was, well, in the future, but it was behind him now. He came to terms with his situation long ago, and his past was just that, his past. A part of his history, but not something he desperately wanted to return to. And who knows, maybe he will one day reach those times and meet himself.
Heh, wouldn't that be funny? Shirou grinned, imagining the pranks he could pull on himself.
The trek up Mount Enzou didn't take him long, and soon he arrived at a sizable plateau where the temple would be. The small lake he remembered from his childhood was already there—an oval pond of crystalline blue water. Shirou walked into the shallows, enjoying the cold washing over his bare feet. A smile played on his lips as he twirled around, kicking up sprays of water and watching as sunlight danced on the droplets, painting the world in rainbows. He laughed as he took in the flat grounds of the future temple. It amazed him how familiar and yet foreign the view was.
When he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the muffled prayers of the monks, the soft rustling of brooms sweeping the temple grounds, the chime of glass bells. It made him feel nostalgic. More so than the site of his childhood house. He touched his chest as melancholy squeezed at his heart.
Too nostalgic.
For all he was fond of Fuyuki, this was a little weird. Shirou's smile dimmed as he focused on the strange feeling. Something was in the air. Something familiar. He waded deeper into the lake, following the subtle traces of magical energy until he reached the center. There, he found a small crack, a minuscule passage where the lake slowly drained. That alone wasn't strange, but his Eyes could see faint motes of golden mana rising from the crack.
Pure mana of the World, the lifeblood of the planet. Denser than anywhere but in Faery.
He tilted his head in confusion. While the world was full of mana, it usually wasn't to the same degree as the Reverse Side of the World, and as the Age of Gods neared its end, it was only getting thinner. But here, he stumbled on something that rivaled the density of the mana in Nibelung.
A Gateway maybe?
Curiosity piqued, Shirou focused on his Eternal Forge. It was always there, full of his flames and weapons, but he usually paid it no mind, like he never thought about where his hair was at all times. But one quirk of his power was that he could 'feel' where he could manifest his blades. It was impossible to summon a sword inside a solid stone or from within someone's body, after all, so those places created 'voids' in his perception. And now, when he concentrated on those voids, he noticed an open space deep under the lake. A large open space. In fact, his perception couldn't encompass it all, cutting off after a hundred feet.
Huh. Was there always a cavern under Mount Enzou? He couldn't remember.
It took him some time to find the entrance to the cave, but the currents of mana guided him in the end. The deeper he went into the cave, the denser the mana became until it reached levels similar to those in Faery. The narrow passage he walked through opened into a vast cavern full of stalagmites and stalactites formed by the lake water dripping from the surface. No light reached this deep in, but it wasn't a problem. The cavern was so saturated with mana that it almost glowed in the visible light, and in Shirou's Fairy Eyes, it was almost blinding. He stared in wonder at the display, watching as golden currents followed his every move, swirling around his body in mesmerizing patterns, and when he 'rotated' his Eternal Forge, the mana followed suit, surging in torrents of golden power.
It felt like home.
Not the wooden house of his childhood, nor the stone castle of his student, but the home of Faery. Of Avalon. His fae nature resonated with this place.
And yet, he found no Gateway here. After he stopped playing around, Shirou tried to find the passage to the realm of fairies, but found nothing. Somehow this was just a conflux of multiple ley lines, veins of the World brought to the surface, a natural formation without the connection to the Reverse Side of the World.
He sat in the middle of the cave, bathing in the warm breath of the planet. He now knew why he felt so nostalgic, but it didn't make those emotions disappear. On the contrary, it only strengthened them. He reminisced about the past, and not all of his memories were pleasant, the events from China still fresh in his mind. He didn't regret meeting Yu, but he got attached to humans again, and… it hurt.
"I miss Scathach," he said after a long moment.
He spent years on his journey, and it was time to return. For all his student would live longer than a regular human, he didn't want her to age without him around.
There was no Gateway here, but as Oberon once told him, it was possible to force a passage, and this cave was so full of power that he wouldn't need to do much. Shirou pushed against reality, the weight of his existence rippling time and space like water before his body dissolved into motes of golden light—not unlike the mana that filled the cavern—and sank into the dark stone, seeping through the Textures of the World.
Shirou carefully hammered a wooden post into the ground, making sure not to destroy the fragile wood. The hammer he used could break adamantite, so it wasn't easy. After a few more strikes, he stepped back, closed one eye, and scrutinized his work with a serious expression.
He nodded with a smile after a moment.
"Good enough!"
It wasn't perfect, but it didn't have to be. It was just a simple fence, after all. After nailing in a couple of planks, he stowed his hammer away, satisfied.
With the fence done, his temporary home was finished. A wooden cottage with an attached forge and a fenced-off garden. It took him quite some time to build everything, but he couldn't simply wish a place to live in into existence in the human world. Besides, it was fun to create something like this with his own hands. He even transplanted some flowers from Faery to make it more homely.
Thick foliage walled off the clearing it was in, creating an enclosed space hidden from casual view. Even if the nearest human settlement was dozens of miles away, he didn't want to make it easy to spot.
It was a place to rest for a while, after all.
When he returned to Skye from his journey, Scathach wasn't in the best of moods despite stating that her problems with her sister should be over, their latest war resolving whatever issues Aife had with Scathach. Apparently, Cu Chulainn was the one who contributed the most to achieve that, even if his methods left Scathach quite cross with him. Shirou shared some of his grievances about the state of the world, what he saw in China and other places. After a few hours of venting, Scathach took out a few bottles of wine from her personal stash and they ended up drinking late into the night, complaining about anything and everything. In retrospect, it was quite funny to see drunk Scathach rant about her students, especially about a certain blue-haired young man. You would think he was the worst of her disciples, blind as a mole, butting in where he wasn't wanted, and not listening to his teacher, yet she gifted him one of her best spears when he left.
He could see in her aura that the whole situation with Cu bothered her more than she showed, so he didn't dig too deeply into that, though he still offered to go and smack Cu across the head a couple of times.
While sharing some of his own stories, she must've noticed something in his voice, because she hugged him, patted his head, and told him to take a break. To stop helping everyone he meets and rest for some time. It was embarrassing to be treated like a child, but maybe she was right. He did feel tired lately.
Eventually, the topic drifted toward her kingdom. Skye wasn't doing so well. The population was declining and probably wouldn't recover from the wars that ravaged the north in Scathach's early rule anytime soon. It made trade suffer, and Skye was never great in that regard. She tried her best, but there wasn't much she could do. The scars of war wouldn't fade so easily.
Then there were the shadows.
She said she suspect it was an additional factor that drove her people away from the isle, but it was another thing she could do nothing about. For years now they pooled into Skye, slowly affecting even the physical world, but it's not like she could stop them.
Right before she passed out from alcohol, she asked Shirou to visit her on her next birthday as it would be a large party and she wanted him to be there with her. It struck him then that she was almost fifty years old. She looked half her age, but Scathach was halfway through her lifespan already. An irrational fear gripped him at the thought, and he wanted to hold and protect her, to keep her safe from time itself.
But after he tucked her into her bed, he couldn't help but stare at her youthful face.
Would he need to? She aged slowly, if at all. He always suspected it was because of his blessing, and now he was almost sure that was the case. Her aura was as vibrant as ever, her body in peak shape and full of vigor. He recalled the wording of his promise, 'live long and healthy, ever forward, ever radiant'. If the World itself listened back then and took it literally, it wouldn't allow her to die of old age.
Relief and guilt filled his heart at the realization. Relief, because he would never lose her, and guilt because she never asked for it and the life of an immortal wasn't just full of happiness. Especially for a human that didn't have the correct mindset. In his case, his fairy nature allowed him to adapt without issues, but Scathach wouldn't have that benefit.
So he decided to remain close, to take his student's advice, and rest for a time. Away from humans and their problems. And when she needed him, he wouldn't be far away again.
Shirou hummed to himself as he strolled through the clearing surrounding his cottage. Two dozen years have passed since he settled here, and he quite liked it. It was nice to have some peace and quiet.
The small building he lived in was half overgrown with plant life. He wasn't particularly concerned with that, however, as it made it more like something out of Faery. The flowers he brought from the realm of fairies spread across the clearing, covering every surface with a mosaic of color. Some even crawled up the trunk of a large oak that grew next to the cottage. He planted the tree soon after arriving here and it was fun watching it grow over the decades, even if he cheated a little with his magic to speed up its growth. By now, it towered over the rest of the forest, its canopy covering almost the entire clearing.
During his time here, he busied himself with blacksmithing and exploring the surrounding lands. It was surprising how fun it was, and even after over twenty years, he still discovered new things whenever he ventured outside.
While removed, he was relatively close to Skye, so he didn't have problems visiting his student whenever he wanted. He was considering inviting her over, to stay with him for a few months at least. The state of Skye was getting worse lately, and Scathach looked more tired every time he saw her, although her appearance didn't change at all. She looked like a young woman still.
He wanted to talk with her about the blessing, but always stopped himself. He didn't know how to breach the subject and it was getting harder the longer he delayed.
He dismissed those worries and walked deeper into the forest, enjoying the fresh morning air of the late spring. He didn't plan on stopping for a few hours, the immediate area around his cottage held nothing new by now. His target this time was a tall mountain to the south. Hopefully, he would find some interesting minerals there.
But the World had another idea it would seem.
An hour into his trek, he stumbled upon an unconscious human. An adult man wearing a linen tunic and pants. A villager garb. Something that wouldn't be out of place across half the world. Shirou was baffled at how this man found himself there. The closest human village was more than twenty miles away, and it would be another twenty to reach another settlement in the opposite direction.
Not to mention that he appeared to be badly injured. The beige clothes were stained red with blood, and Shirou could see cuts on the man's legs and back. It was a miracle nothing ate the unconscious man before he found him.
Still, he couldn't just leave him here. He was supposed to rest away from humans, but there was no helping it when they crawled up to Shirou's forest anyway.
It wasn't until the evening that the man woke up.
Shirou was preparing a stew over the fireplace when he heard a groan coming from the bed. The inside of Shirou's cottage was a single room, so he only had to turn his head to see the man stirring awake.
"What… where the hell am I?"
He looked around Shirou's house in confusion until his eyes fell on the fairy's child form. For a moment they stared at each other, human brown eyes locked with fairy slitted gold, before the man uttered a curse and tried to scramble upright.
"Shit, a fairy!"
Shirou scowled.
"Hey! None of that. Lay still or you will ruin my hard work, human."
He did his best to tend to the man's injuries, but he wasn't a healer, so the best he could do was to apply bandages and try to use his fae magic to help a little. The result was a half-mummy dotted with red spots of soaked blood.
The man froze at Shirou's outburst, his eyes wide open. Huh, was he really that scary? Whatever. Shirou shook his head and prodded the man into lying down again, feeling like he was stowing away a rigid toy. Halfway through, the man relaxed slightly and just looked at Shirou with uncertain eyes.
"So, uh, may I how I got here, umm, noble fairy?"
"I found you collapsed in the forest, bleeding all over, and I wasn't about to let you die there. And my name is Avel. Or do you want me to call you 'noble human', hm?"
"Nope! Avel, it is. Mine's Cador. Uh, not that I'm ungrateful for helping me out, thanks for that, but is there any reason I'm here? You could've dropped me off in some village somewhere, really. You didn't need to bother dragging me all the way here."
A small part of Shirou wanted to prank the man, but it would be too cruel with how nervous he was.
"The nearest human village is a day of travel away. You would bleed out before I got you there. It was either leaving you in the forest to die or taking you here."
Cador gulped, and his face paled.
"Oh. I didn't think it was that bad. Still, I wouldn't want to impose, so, uh, I should probably leave."
Shirou sighed. He forgot how wary humans could be about the 'fair folk'.
"Relax. You are a guest in my home, so I won't eat you or anything. Rest here for a few days. At least stay until you are well enough to make it through the woods on your own."
"… alright. If you say so."
The man relaxed a bit, but Shirou could see his aura, so he knew his assurances didn't do that much. He agreed to stay because he didn't want to offend Shirou, probably. He still held quite a lot of fear toward the fairy, although it was slowly diminishing. That was good enough. Humans had a certain image of fairies for a reason.
"Good. Now wait a bit. The stew should be ready soon."
When Shirou busied himself with finishing the dinner, Cador examined the cottage, his eyes slowly moving from object to object, but there weren't that many things in there. For all Shirou spent twenty years here already, he never had a habit of cluttering his living space with useless things. His forge though, well, that was a different matter. Still, there were a few unfinished weapons propped against the walls. Projects Shirou was unsatisfied with and waited for a bout of inspiration. A few other bits and odds were strewn on shelves and in the corners. Wooden blocks and crafts, pieces of ice, and seemingly a pipe made of solid wind — a product of his experiments with fairy magic. Colorful flowers from Faery covered the windowsill and parts of the walls, the plants growing directly out of the wooden structure. A ball of golden-red flames suspended at the ceiling illuminated it all. Despite the fire burning next to the wooden beams that held up the roof, nothing was catching aflame, nor was the fire emitting any smoke. It was a piece of his Eternal Forge, after all.
"Dinner's ready!"
Shirou handed a bowl of stew to Cador, the man gingerly taking it off his hand. He was being awfully suspicious of the meal, but Shirou couldn't fault him for it. He would be no different in the man's place.
"… thanks."
Shirou nodded and went to get himself a portion. He worked too long on it to not enjoy some, too.
"It's good!"
"Of course it's good. What's the point otherwise?"
Cador's surprised expression made Shirou smile. It was nice to have someone enjoy his cooking, and seeing the man shoveling the food like it was the best thing ever was amusing.
In no time at all, the whole cauldron of stew was gone, Cador eating most of it. It was a good sign. Shirou was afraid Cador's injuries would make him lose his appetite, but it didn't seem to be the case. If he could eat like this, then he should have no problems recovering.
Yet when the meal was over, Cador's injuries acted up from all that moving, and Shirou made him rest again.
"Lay down. Your wounds aren't healed yet."
"Fine, fine."
Placing a finger on the man's chest, the fairy glowed with a golden light that quickly engulfed the man.
"Huh. Fancy magic."
"This 'fancy magic' is just a painkiller, so stop moving. I don't have healing powers, so you will have to recover on your own."
"Better than nothing. Thanks."
After Shirou cleaned up, he sat on a wooden chair, catching Cador's gaze.
"So, how did you end up in the forest?"
The man was silent for a moment, mulling over his answer. He wasn't afraid anymore, but Shirou supposed it wasn't so simple to trust a Phantasmal you just met.
"You know, stuff happened. I'm not a runaway slave or anything, if that's what you are curious about. I just… ran afoul of some people I shouldn't have messed with. They didn't appreciate my jokes. No sense of humor, those guys."
"Hmm. I didn't know there were people keeping slaves around these parts."
Cador laughed. A bitter laugh with a smile that was painful to look at.
"Yeah, so did I. Shows what we know, right?"
Shirou steered the conversation onto some lighter topics after that; he didn't want to hamper Cador's recovery. He learned a bit about the man's home village and childhood. It wasn't anything spectacular and didn't explain how he ended up so cut up. From what he heard, Cador was a simple soldier turned farmer. A human like countless others out there. Unremarkable. He was thirty-five years old, spending most of his youth in the army, and settling down a few years back. He never married after returning home from his adventures. Shirou could imagine many scenarios that ended with him bleeding out miles away from anywhere, but frankly, it wasn't his business. He was resting, and wouldn't get involved in human affairs for now.
The next day started with Cador developing a fever.
The man squirmed in the bed, mumbling unintelligibly, caught halfway between dreams and the waking world. Shirou checked his injuries, but as far as he knew, they was no infection. Still, he used more of his fairy magic, trying to boost Cador's health. As a fairy, he healed fast, but unfortunately, it didn't translate into being able to heal.
"I-I need to… I need to… save-"
In his delirium, Cador tried to leave the bed, even if he barely could lift himself without groaning in pain, and Shirou had to keep him in bed by force.
"You need to rest, Cador. Lay down."
It wasn't until the afternoon that his fever broke, finally allowing the man to sleep in peace. Whenever Shirou wasn't tending to the sick human, he was searching the forest for medicinal herbs. He wasn't an alchemist or even just a herbalist, but when you lived for as long as he did, you tended to pick up useful skills and information over time. If they were in Faery, it would be simple to acquire whatever he needed, but the human world wasn't convenient like that.
"Here, drink this."
Cador eyed the steaming cup of herbal tea with suspicion, grimacing when he sniffed it but drank it anyway.
"Ugh. Taste like shit."
"It's medicine, not a pint of beer."
"Don't remind me. Damn, this is disgusting. What the hell did you put in this?"
"Something to keep you from sweating in a fever all over my bedsheets again. Now drink it all or I will force it down your throat."
"Yes, yes, I'm drinking your foul concoction. Don't get all pissy."
Still complaining like a petulant child, he gulped down the green liquid, wincing with each mouthful. You would think a grown man would act like an adult and take his medicine, but Cador proved Shirou otherwise. It wasn't even that disgusting; the fairy tasted it himself. Cador was just being a drama queen.
"Shit, this is totally not like the stories."
"Stories?"
"You know, about fairies saving heroes. Isn't it like this usually? A beautiful fairy saves a wounded warrior, nurses him to health, and then the fairy fall in love with him. The classics. Meanwhile, all I got is a pint-sized worrywart trying to feed me his failed alchemy experiments."
"Well, excuse me for not being a sexy Aelf. At least you won't return home a hundred years after you arrived."
"Wait, that can happen!? Avel, my man, you won't do a man dirty, right? Tell me I'm not an old man yet!"
"Who knows what I will do? I'm just a 'pint-sized worrywart', after all."
Shirou amused himself by teasing Cador, but he saw the man wasn't actually panicking, amusement coloring his aura. He was used to the fairy by now, and his early fear was nowhere to be found.
Later that evening, Shirou was preparing another cauldron of soup. His fireplace was getting more use than it did in the last decade.
"Hey, Avel. What do you usually do here all day? Just playing around with rabbits? Frolicking in the meadows? Because I feel like I'm going crazy from boredom."
"… just what is your image of a fairy, Cador? I'm a blacksmith, so I spent my days working in my forge. It's that, or I explore the forest."
"A blacksmith? Really?"
"What's with that surprised expression? Didn't the half-finished blades here clue you in? It's not like I was hiding it, but I had my hands full with taking care of you. If you could walk outside, you would see the smithy attached to this cottage."
Cador was shaking his head, looking at the unfinished weapons in a new light.
"No, it's just… wasn't there something about cold iron and the fair folk? I thought your kind couldn't touch metal."
"That's a myth. It's not 'cold iron', but products of civilization. Although it will probably become true one day when enough humans believe it to be true. But for now, it's not about metals. Fairies are nature spirits, so anything sufficiently removed from 'nature' will hurt us more than it should. Still, a sword is just a weirdly shaped lump of metal, so it's not that far removed from the raw stuff. It doesn't prevent me from being a blacksmith."
"Huh. Interesting, I guess."
"'You guess'? Whatever. What about you? I don't think being a farmer is all that interesting either."
The man didn't respond right away, his aura flickering rapidly with different emotions.
"It's not that bad. It's busy work. Waking up before dawn, taking care of the animals, and working in the fields till dusk. There's always something to do. When the harvest comes, my neighbors would help me out in exchange for doing the same. The winters are boring, but bearable. It's hard sometimes, but a satisfying life. Way safer than being a soldier."
There was nothing strange about Cador's answer, but Shirou still thought it sounded lonely. There was also something in the man's aura that said much the same thing. A wistful longing. A painful regret.
"You never thought about starting a family?"
"… it's not for me. I would be a terrible husband and worse father. Besides, I'm old. What woman would want a husband that would die before her children grow up? And where did that question come from? Are you projecting, Avel? Is there a fae lady with little faerlings you are hiding from me?"
"Faerlings? Is that even a word? And no, there is no lady. Fairies don't 'marry' as humans do. As for children…"
Did Scathach count? Shirou never tried to replace her parents, but he did basically raise her since she was nine. Did she consider him her father? It was an uncomfortable thought because he never tried to be one when she might've needed him to.
"So you have little faerlings stashed away somewhere!"
Annoyed, Shirou flicked a drop of soup across the room, the hot liquid hitting Cador in the forehead.
"Again, that's not a word. It's not a fairy, but… I saved a human girl once. When she was nine. I stayed with her for eight years, and then returned to her every ten years and stayed for a decade. It… weren't pleasant times, and we had some issues later, but the first eight years were peaceful. Do you think she saw me as her father back then?"
"… shit, that's heavy, Avel. Did she? I don't know. I can't speak for her. But if something like that happened to me, then maybe? Did she have any other adult humans taking care of her, or did you keep her here all that time?"
Shirou shook his head.
"She was a noble. I helped her return home after her parents were murdered. She had many advisors and lords in her castle, so it wasn't just me."
"Huh. Why does that sound familiar? Anyway, you are probably good, then. If it wasn't just you, then she probably saw you as an uncle or something."
"That's… good. Thanks, Cador."
"No problem. But you know I never had kids, right? Don't take my words for granted. My family was normal, so I can't really imagine this kind of abnormal situation that well."
"So that's not the reason you don't want to marry?"
"What? No! I don't have some weird daddy issues or anything. I'll have you know my parents loved me and I loved them back. I still look up to my old man and mom was a saint! A saint, I tell you! Well, besides the times she kicked the shit out of me when I snuck out with a neighbor's daughter in the night. But other than that, a saint!"
The mood became a bit lighter after that. Cador spent the rest of the evening telling Shirou about his 'saint' of a mother and various stupid situations he got up to as a kid. It was fun and a nice distraction from the heavier topics.
It was a shame there wasn't a Gateway anywhere nearby Shirou's cottage. The closest one was a week away, even if he used Reinforcement. And while he could force his way into the Reverse Side of the World, returning was only possible through a Gateway.
And so, Shirou had to search for medicinal herbs in the human world. It was the fifth day since he brought Cador here, and his injuries weren't dangerous anymore. He wasn't healed, not by a long shot, but he wouldn't open his wound with every movement anymore. The man was even quite determined to get better today. Still, it was better to have something stashed away just in case; the man was still weak, and the fever could return at any moment. Ideally, he would stay with Shirou for another week before he left.
But it would seem Cador didn't want to wait that long.
When Shirou returned to his cottage, the bed he left Cador in was empty. He stared for a moment at it before heading out again, searching for the stupid human. He was a little angry at himself for not noticing anything amiss this morning. What good was an ability to see emotions if he missed the most obvious signs?
Shirou found him a mile into the forest.
Cador was slowly making his way through the dense woods, panting with exhaustion after just a short distance. He didn't notice the fairy watching him from behind.
After a few more steps, he stumbled and fell to the side, but Shirou caught him before he hit the ground. Cador wasn't surprised, only smiling wryly at the fairy.
"Ah, you found me already. Damnit."
"…"
"What? Aren't you gonna tell me to return? To rest some more?"
"… you aren't a prisoner, Cador. If you truly want to leave, then I won't stop you."
The exhausted man let out a short laugh, his aura twisting in guilt and determination.
"Shit, Avel, you are too nice. You're making me feel like an asshole. Can't you be a little more like the stories? At least it would be easier to push you away."
They sat down on the soft forest floor. Shirou took out a bundle of herbs and Projected a small bowl. If Cador wouldn't stay, then the fairy would at least make him one last salve.
"I can't… I can't stay, Avel. I need to save them. My old village."
"What happened to them?"
"… slavers. Oh, they didn't call themselves that, but they were slavers. The local lord needed workers to build his castle, and it was cheaper to kidnap an entire village than to pay them to work. They killed those who resisted. Dozens. Each one I knew since I was a kid. I wasn't there. I made my farm in a neighboring village, away from all the expectations."
Shirou took off Cador's bandages to apply his salve. The wounds crisscrossing his back looked good, clean and dry.
"I went after them when I learned what happened. Pretended to be a warrior looking to join the lord's army. Dug up my old sword and everything. I saw how they treated them. Fucking animals! I… I lost it then. Killed the one next to me. I shouldn't have. They jumped me in seconds, and even if I was good in a scrap, there was no way I could take them all by myself. It was a miracle I escaped. They cut me up good, and, well, you know the rest. I ran into the forest, barely conscious from blood loss. How I got so far in, I have no idea."
Cador stood up after Shirou redid his bandages, looking at the red-haired fairy, silent, as if he waited for Shirou to judge him.
"You will die if you go, Cador."
The man closed his eyes, but the determination in his aura didn't fade.
"… I know. But I can't stay. I just… can't, Avel."
Was this how heroes were made, Shirou couldn't help but wonder. Just a man with an impossible goal but enough determination to match. A part of Shirou wanted to stop him, but it was a small part. He loved humanity for this exact reason. They shined brighter in moments like this—struggling to make the world better, even if only for a small group or just themselves. He saw Scathach in this man; he saw Cu and every warrior who risked their lives for a better world. He saw himself. The Hero of Justice that left his heart a long time ago, but left a glimmer that still lived on.
"You don't have a weapon."
"Yeah. I will find something. I won't rush blindly again, so don't worry."
"Wait a moment."
"Huh?"
Without explaining more, Shirou pulled on his fairy magic. A curtain of golden-red flames appeared behind him, reaching to the heavens and illuminating the forest in autumn colors. Golden Fairy Patterns glowed on his arms and crawled up his neck and face. His eyes blazed with inner light and a gap in space opened above him. A circular hole in reality surrounded by a ring of fire, a window into his Domain—Eternal Forge, showing an endless expanse of flames and flickers of countless weapons.
The Fairy of Fire and Iron lifted his hands and grasped at the invisible sword, a massive weapon hidden behind the veil of the World. Streams of scorching flames spilled from the portal above, coalescing around the unfinished weapon in a cocoon of magic.
Midjinior would make for a good base, but Shirou needed something slightly different. And smaller. He concentrated on the aspects he needed and with a resounding bang, the large blade shrank into something more suited to human hands. He searched for a suitable weapon to mix with what he had in mind and recalled the spear of wind that had once saved Scathach's life.
That would do.
Midjinior, to cut through any chains.
The spear of wind, to protect against any bindings.
After a minute of work, the magical spectacle faded away, leaving behind a stunned Cador staring at a pitch-black sword with silver engravings representing the wind.
Shirou nodded, satisfied, and offered the weapon to Cador. Shirou couldn't defeat all the evils in the world by himself, he wasn't a savior of this World, but he could at least help where he could.
"Here, take this. It doesn't have a name, but with this blade no chains will bar you, and no bindings will stop you."
Cador seemed to need a minute, though. Shirou barely showed his magic around him and this sudden display was probably a bit much. After another few seconds, he came to his senses.
"I.. Shit, Avel, I can't take it. Something like this belongs to some hero or a king's treasury, not me. It's too much."
"It's a gift freely given, Cador. If you are afraid I'm trying to trick you, then I want a story as payment. A story about a man who brought a corrupt lord to justice and saved a village from slavery."
The man hesitated for a moment longer, but ultimately took the blade.
"… damnit. Fine, I will take it. I'm not sure about that story, but I will try."
"That's all I want."
Cador left soon after, Shirou watching him until he disappeared between the trees and then stared in the same direction for hours more. Would ever hear that story? Or will Cador fade into history as another foolish casualty? Whatever the case would be, Shirou was sure Cador would die. People with such strong convictions never stopped. There would always be another village to save, another lord to overthrow, and another monster to kill. Heroes rarely got to die of old age.
AN
An experimental chapter with almost no dialogue tags. Let me know if it was easy to read or a confusing mess.
This was chapter 2 out of planned 5 before the next arc. Next time, if I named my chapters, will be 'The Land Where Shadows Die'.
After close to four hundred years since Shirou arrived in the past, he rarely thought about the 'modern' times of the twenty-first century. He still remembered much, but those few years of his childhood were just a fraction of his life by now, no matter how much they shaped him. His common sense changed and adapted to his new circumstances. When he thought about war, he imagined warriors garbed in metal armor and wielding melee weapons. To travel was to walk or run through forests and hills. Cars, trains, and planes were almost a foreign concept. A city was wood and stone, not glass and steel. Even the flow of time itself seemed different. A decade was just a brief moment, and the idea of working on a blacksmithing project for years without a break was normal. And when he thought of home, an image of a forge deep in Faery and a castle of his student appeared in his mind, not a large Japanese building.
Yet standing where his childhood house in Fuyuki should be, but there was nothing besides wilderness for miles in every direction, was surreal.
Shirou slowly walked through the dense forest, imagining the wooden panels under his feet, the familiar white walls, and the scent of fresh laundry. He couldn't be sure this was the exact spot, but something told him he wasn't wrong. He recognized Mount Enzou, where Ryuudou Temple would be. The Mion River that cut a straight path to the sea. Those were the landmarks that wouldn't change for thousands of years, so even with no manmade structures, he knew this was the future Fuyuki.
He stopped and closed his eyes.
Nothing but the chirping of birds and the sounds of wind reached him, the light breeze carrying the forest fragrance, pure and untouched. It would be hundreds of years before the first humans settled here, and hundreds more before he was born. For now, it was a place of nature, wild and untamed. A small smile tugged at his lips as he lost himself in the peaceful silence.
It was… nice.
A few minutes later, he sighed. Once again he looked around, but there was nothing here. Just a forest. Shaking his head, he took off towards the mountain. This place was making him feel nostalgic. His past was, well, in the future, but it was behind him now. He came to terms with his situation long ago, and his past was just that, his past. A part of his history, but not something he desperately wanted to return to. And who knows, maybe he will one day reach those times and meet himself.
Heh, wouldn't that be funny? Shirou grinned, imagining the pranks he could pull on himself.
The trek up Mount Enzou didn't take him long, and soon he arrived at a sizable plateau where the temple would be. The small lake he remembered from his childhood was already there—an oval pond of crystalline blue water. Shirou walked into the shallows, enjoying the cold washing over his bare feet. A smile played on his lips as he twirled around, kicking up sprays of water and watching as sunlight danced on the droplets, painting the world in rainbows. He laughed as he took in the flat grounds of the future temple. It amazed him how familiar and yet foreign the view was.
When he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the muffled prayers of the monks, the soft rustling of brooms sweeping the temple grounds, the chime of glass bells. It made him feel nostalgic. More so than the site of his childhood house. He touched his chest as melancholy squeezed at his heart.
Too nostalgic.
For all he was fond of Fuyuki, this was a little weird. Shirou's smile dimmed as he focused on the strange feeling. Something was in the air. Something familiar. He waded deeper into the lake, following the subtle traces of magical energy until he reached the center. There, he found a small crack, a minuscule passage where the lake slowly drained. That alone wasn't strange, but his Eyes could see faint motes of golden mana rising from the crack.
Pure mana of the World, the lifeblood of the planet. Denser than anywhere but in Faery.
He tilted his head in confusion. While the world was full of mana, it usually wasn't to the same degree as the Reverse Side of the World, and as the Age of Gods neared its end, it was only getting thinner. But here, he stumbled on something that rivaled the density of the mana in Nibelung.
A Gateway maybe?
Curiosity piqued, Shirou focused on his Eternal Forge. It was always there, full of his flames and weapons, but he usually paid it no mind, like he never thought about where his hair was at all times. But one quirk of his power was that he could 'feel' where he could manifest his blades. It was impossible to summon a sword inside a solid stone or from within someone's body, after all, so those places created 'voids' in his perception. And now, when he concentrated on those voids, he noticed an open space deep under the lake. A large open space. In fact, his perception couldn't encompass it all, cutting off after a hundred feet.
Huh. Was there always a cavern under Mount Enzou? He couldn't remember.
It took him some time to find the entrance to the cave, but the currents of mana guided him in the end. The deeper he went into the cave, the denser the mana became until it reached levels similar to those in Faery. The narrow passage he walked through opened into a vast cavern full of stalagmites and stalactites formed by the lake water dripping from the surface. No light reached this deep in, but it wasn't a problem. The cavern was so saturated with mana that it almost glowed in the visible light, and in Shirou's Fairy Eyes, it was almost blinding. He stared in wonder at the display, watching as golden currents followed his every move, swirling around his body in mesmerizing patterns, and when he 'rotated' his Eternal Forge, the mana followed suit, surging in torrents of golden power.
It felt like home.
Not the wooden house of his childhood, nor the stone castle of his student, but the home of Faery. Of Avalon. His fae nature resonated with this place.
And yet, he found no Gateway here. After he stopped playing around, Shirou tried to find the passage to the realm of fairies, but found nothing. Somehow this was just a conflux of multiple ley lines, veins of the World brought to the surface, a natural formation without the connection to the Reverse Side of the World.
He sat in the middle of the cave, bathing in the warm breath of the planet. He now knew why he felt so nostalgic, but it didn't make those emotions disappear. On the contrary, it only strengthened them. He reminisced about the past, and not all of his memories were pleasant, the events from China still fresh in his mind. He didn't regret meeting Yu, but he got attached to humans again, and… it hurt.
"I miss Scathach," he said after a long moment.
He spent years on his journey, and it was time to return. For all his student would live longer than a regular human, he didn't want her to age without him around.
There was no Gateway here, but as Oberon once told him, it was possible to force a passage, and this cave was so full of power that he wouldn't need to do much. Shirou pushed against reality, the weight of his existence rippling time and space like water before his body dissolved into motes of golden light—not unlike the mana that filled the cavern—and sank into the dark stone, seeping through the Textures of the World.
Shirou carefully hammered a wooden post into the ground, making sure not to destroy the fragile wood. The hammer he used could break adamantite, so it wasn't easy. After a few more strikes, he stepped back, closed one eye, and scrutinized his work with a serious expression.
He nodded with a smile after a moment.
"Good enough!"
It wasn't perfect, but it didn't have to be. It was just a simple fence, after all. After nailing in a couple of planks, he stowed his hammer away, satisfied.
With the fence done, his temporary home was finished. A wooden cottage with an attached forge and a fenced-off garden. It took him quite some time to build everything, but he couldn't simply wish a place to live in into existence in the human world. Besides, it was fun to create something like this with his own hands. He even transplanted some flowers from Faery to make it more homely.
Thick foliage walled off the clearing it was in, creating an enclosed space hidden from casual view. Even if the nearest human settlement was dozens of miles away, he didn't want to make it easy to spot.
It was a place to rest for a while, after all.
When he returned to Skye from his journey, Scathach wasn't in the best of moods despite stating that her problems with her sister should be over, their latest war resolving whatever issues Aife had with Scathach. Apparently, Cu Chulainn was the one who contributed the most to achieve that, even if his methods left Scathach quite cross with him. Shirou shared some of his grievances about the state of the world, what he saw in China and other places. After a few hours of venting, Scathach took out a few bottles of wine from her personal stash and they ended up drinking late into the night, complaining about anything and everything. In retrospect, it was quite funny to see drunk Scathach rant about her students, especially about a certain blue-haired young man. You would think he was the worst of her disciples, blind as a mole, butting in where he wasn't wanted, and not listening to his teacher, yet she gifted him one of her best spears when he left.
He could see in her aura that the whole situation with Cu bothered her more than she showed, so he didn't dig too deeply into that, though he still offered to go and smack Cu across the head a couple of times.
While sharing some of his own stories, she must've noticed something in his voice, because she hugged him, patted his head, and told him to take a break. To stop helping everyone he meets and rest for some time. It was embarrassing to be treated like a child, but maybe she was right. He did feel tired lately.
Eventually, the topic drifted toward her kingdom. Skye wasn't doing so well. The population was declining and probably wouldn't recover from the wars that ravaged the north in Scathach's early rule anytime soon. It made trade suffer, and Skye was never great in that regard. She tried her best, but there wasn't much she could do. The scars of war wouldn't fade so easily.
Then there were the shadows.
She said she suspect it was an additional factor that drove her people away from the isle, but it was another thing she could do nothing about. For years now they pooled into Skye, slowly affecting even the physical world, but it's not like she could stop them.
Right before she passed out from alcohol, she asked Shirou to visit her on her next birthday as it would be a large party and she wanted him to be there with her. It struck him then that she was almost fifty years old. She looked half her age, but Scathach was halfway through her lifespan already. An irrational fear gripped him at the thought, and he wanted to hold and protect her, to keep her safe from time itself.
But after he tucked her into her bed, he couldn't help but stare at her youthful face.
Would he need to? She aged slowly, if at all. He always suspected it was because of his blessing, and now he was almost sure that was the case. Her aura was as vibrant as ever, her body in peak shape and full of vigor. He recalled the wording of his promise, 'live long and healthy, ever forward, ever radiant'. If the World itself listened back then and took it literally, it wouldn't allow her to die of old age.
Relief and guilt filled his heart at the realization. Relief, because he would never lose her, and guilt because she never asked for it and the life of an immortal wasn't just full of happiness. Especially for a human that didn't have the correct mindset. In his case, his fairy nature allowed him to adapt without issues, but Scathach wouldn't have that benefit.
So he decided to remain close, to take his student's advice, and rest for a time. Away from humans and their problems. And when she needed him, he wouldn't be far away again.
Shirou hummed to himself as he strolled through the clearing surrounding his cottage. Two dozen years have passed since he settled here, and he quite liked it. It was nice to have some peace and quiet.
The small building he lived in was half overgrown with plant life. He wasn't particularly concerned with that, however, as it made it more like something out of Faery. The flowers he brought from the realm of fairies spread across the clearing, covering every surface with a mosaic of color. Some even crawled up the trunk of a large oak that grew next to the cottage. He planted the tree soon after arriving here and it was fun watching it grow over the decades, even if he cheated a little with his magic to speed up its growth. By now, it towered over the rest of the forest, its canopy covering almost the entire clearing.
During his time here, he busied himself with blacksmithing and exploring the surrounding lands. It was surprising how fun it was, and even after over twenty years, he still discovered new things whenever he ventured outside.
While removed, he was relatively close to Skye, so he didn't have problems visiting his student whenever he wanted. He was considering inviting her over, to stay with him for a few months at least. The state of Skye was getting worse lately, and Scathach looked more tired every time he saw her, although her appearance didn't change at all. She looked like a young woman still.
He wanted to talk with her about the blessing, but always stopped himself. He didn't know how to breach the subject and it was getting harder the longer he delayed.
He dismissed those worries and walked deeper into the forest, enjoying the fresh morning air of the late spring. He didn't plan on stopping for a few hours, the immediate area around his cottage held nothing new by now. His target this time was a tall mountain to the south. Hopefully, he would find some interesting minerals there.
But the World had another idea it would seem.
An hour into his trek, he stumbled upon an unconscious human. An adult man wearing a linen tunic and pants. A villager garb. Something that wouldn't be out of place across half the world. Shirou was baffled at how this man found himself there. The closest human village was more than twenty miles away, and it would be another twenty to reach another settlement in the opposite direction.
Not to mention that he appeared to be badly injured. The beige clothes were stained red with blood, and Shirou could see cuts on the man's legs and back. It was a miracle nothing ate the unconscious man before he found him.
Still, he couldn't just leave him here. He was supposed to rest away from humans, but there was no helping it when they crawled up to Shirou's forest anyway.
It wasn't until the evening that the man woke up.
Shirou was preparing a stew over the fireplace when he heard a groan coming from the bed. The inside of Shirou's cottage was a single room, so he only had to turn his head to see the man stirring awake.
"What… where the hell am I?"
He looked around Shirou's house in confusion until his eyes fell on the fairy's child form. For a moment they stared at each other, human brown eyes locked with fairy slitted gold, before the man uttered a curse and tried to scramble upright.
"Shit, a fairy!"
Shirou scowled.
"Hey! None of that. Lay still or you will ruin my hard work, human."
He did his best to tend to the man's injuries, but he wasn't a healer, so the best he could do was to apply bandages and try to use his fae magic to help a little. The result was a half-mummy dotted with red spots of soaked blood.
The man froze at Shirou's outburst, his eyes wide open. Huh, was he really that scary? Whatever. Shirou shook his head and prodded the man into lying down again, feeling like he was stowing away a rigid toy. Halfway through, the man relaxed slightly and just looked at Shirou with uncertain eyes.
"So, uh, may I how I got here, umm, noble fairy?"
"I found you collapsed in the forest, bleeding all over, and I wasn't about to let you die there. And my name is Avel. Or do you want me to call you 'noble human', hm?"
"Nope! Avel, it is. Mine's Cador. Uh, not that I'm ungrateful for helping me out, thanks for that, but is there any reason I'm here? You could've dropped me off in some village somewhere, really. You didn't need to bother dragging me all the way here."
A small part of Shirou wanted to prank the man, but it would be too cruel with how nervous he was.
"The nearest human village is a day of travel away. You would bleed out before I got you there. It was either leaving you in the forest to die or taking you here."
Cador gulped, and his face paled.
"Oh. I didn't think it was that bad. Still, I wouldn't want to impose, so, uh, I should probably leave."
Shirou sighed. He forgot how wary humans could be about the 'fair folk'.
"Relax. You are a guest in my home, so I won't eat you or anything. Rest here for a few days. At least stay until you are well enough to make it through the woods on your own."
"… alright. If you say so."
The man relaxed a bit, but Shirou could see his aura, so he knew his assurances didn't do that much. He agreed to stay because he didn't want to offend Shirou, probably. He still held quite a lot of fear toward the fairy, although it was slowly diminishing. That was good enough. Humans had a certain image of fairies for a reason.
"Good. Now wait a bit. The stew should be ready soon."
When Shirou busied himself with finishing the dinner, Cador examined the cottage, his eyes slowly moving from object to object, but there weren't that many things in there. For all Shirou spent twenty years here already, he never had a habit of cluttering his living space with useless things. His forge though, well, that was a different matter. Still, there were a few unfinished weapons propped against the walls. Projects Shirou was unsatisfied with and waited for a bout of inspiration. A few other bits and odds were strewn on shelves and in the corners. Wooden blocks and crafts, pieces of ice, and seemingly a pipe made of solid wind — a product of his experiments with fairy magic. Colorful flowers from Faery covered the windowsill and parts of the walls, the plants growing directly out of the wooden structure. A ball of golden-red flames suspended at the ceiling illuminated it all. Despite the fire burning next to the wooden beams that held up the roof, nothing was catching aflame, nor was the fire emitting any smoke. It was a piece of his Eternal Forge, after all.
"Dinner's ready!"
Shirou handed a bowl of stew to Cador, the man gingerly taking it off his hand. He was being awfully suspicious of the meal, but Shirou couldn't fault him for it. He would be no different in the man's place.
"… thanks."
Shirou nodded and went to get himself a portion. He worked too long on it to not enjoy some, too.
"It's good!"
"Of course it's good. What's the point otherwise?"
Cador's surprised expression made Shirou smile. It was nice to have someone enjoy his cooking, and seeing the man shoveling the food like it was the best thing ever was amusing.
In no time at all, the whole cauldron of stew was gone, Cador eating most of it. It was a good sign. Shirou was afraid Cador's injuries would make him lose his appetite, but it didn't seem to be the case. If he could eat like this, then he should have no problems recovering.
Yet when the meal was over, Cador's injuries acted up from all that moving, and Shirou made him rest again.
"Lay down. Your wounds aren't healed yet."
"Fine, fine."
Placing a finger on the man's chest, the fairy glowed with a golden light that quickly engulfed the man.
"Huh. Fancy magic."
"This 'fancy magic' is just a painkiller, so stop moving. I don't have healing powers, so you will have to recover on your own."
"Better than nothing. Thanks."
After Shirou cleaned up, he sat on a wooden chair, catching Cador's gaze.
"So, how did you end up in the forest?"
The man was silent for a moment, mulling over his answer. He wasn't afraid anymore, but Shirou supposed it wasn't so simple to trust a Phantasmal you just met.
"You know, stuff happened. I'm not a runaway slave or anything, if that's what you are curious about. I just… ran afoul of some people I shouldn't have messed with. They didn't appreciate my jokes. No sense of humor, those guys."
"Hmm. I didn't know there were people keeping slaves around these parts."
Cador laughed. A bitter laugh with a smile that was painful to look at.
"Yeah, so did I. Shows what we know, right?"
Shirou steered the conversation onto some lighter topics after that; he didn't want to hamper Cador's recovery. He learned a bit about the man's home village and childhood. It wasn't anything spectacular and didn't explain how he ended up so cut up. From what he heard, Cador was a simple soldier turned farmer. A human like countless others out there. Unremarkable. He was thirty-five years old, spending most of his youth in the army, and settling down a few years back. He never married after returning home from his adventures. Shirou could imagine many scenarios that ended with him bleeding out miles away from anywhere, but frankly, it wasn't his business. He was resting, and wouldn't get involved in human affairs for now.
The next day started with Cador developing a fever.
The man squirmed in the bed, mumbling unintelligibly, caught halfway between dreams and the waking world. Shirou checked his injuries, but as far as he knew, they was no infection. Still, he used more of his fairy magic, trying to boost Cador's health. As a fairy, he healed fast, but unfortunately, it didn't translate into being able to heal.
"I-I need to… I need to… save-"
In his delirium, Cador tried to leave the bed, even if he barely could lift himself without groaning in pain, and Shirou had to keep him in bed by force.
"You need to rest, Cador. Lay down."
It wasn't until the afternoon that his fever broke, finally allowing the man to sleep in peace. Whenever Shirou wasn't tending to the sick human, he was searching the forest for medicinal herbs. He wasn't an alchemist or even just a herbalist, but when you lived for as long as he did, you tended to pick up useful skills and information over time. If they were in Faery, it would be simple to acquire whatever he needed, but the human world wasn't convenient like that.
"Here, drink this."
Cador eyed the steaming cup of herbal tea with suspicion, grimacing when he sniffed it but drank it anyway.
"Ugh. Taste like shit."
"It's medicine, not a pint of beer."
"Don't remind me. Damn, this is disgusting. What the hell did you put in this?"
"Something to keep you from sweating in a fever all over my bedsheets again. Now drink it all or I will force it down your throat."
"Yes, yes, I'm drinking your foul concoction. Don't get all pissy."
Still complaining like a petulant child, he gulped down the green liquid, wincing with each mouthful. You would think a grown man would act like an adult and take his medicine, but Cador proved Shirou otherwise. It wasn't even that disgusting; the fairy tasted it himself. Cador was just being a drama queen.
"Shit, this is totally not like the stories."
"Stories?"
"You know, about fairies saving heroes. Isn't it like this usually? A beautiful fairy saves a wounded warrior, nurses him to health, and then the fairy fall in love with him. The classics. Meanwhile, all I got is a pint-sized worrywart trying to feed me his failed alchemy experiments."
"Well, excuse me for not being a sexy Aelf. At least you won't return home a hundred years after you arrived."
"Wait, that can happen!? Avel, my man, you won't do a man dirty, right? Tell me I'm not an old man yet!"
"Who knows what I will do? I'm just a 'pint-sized worrywart', after all."
Shirou amused himself by teasing Cador, but he saw the man wasn't actually panicking, amusement coloring his aura. He was used to the fairy by now, and his early fear was nowhere to be found.
Later that evening, Shirou was preparing another cauldron of soup. His fireplace was getting more use than it did in the last decade.
"Hey, Avel. What do you usually do here all day? Just playing around with rabbits? Frolicking in the meadows? Because I feel like I'm going crazy from boredom."
"… just what is your image of a fairy, Cador? I'm a blacksmith, so I spent my days working in my forge. It's that, or I explore the forest."
"A blacksmith? Really?"
"What's with that surprised expression? Didn't the half-finished blades here clue you in? It's not like I was hiding it, but I had my hands full with taking care of you. If you could walk outside, you would see the smithy attached to this cottage."
Cador was shaking his head, looking at the unfinished weapons in a new light.
"No, it's just… wasn't there something about cold iron and the fair folk? I thought your kind couldn't touch metal."
"That's a myth. It's not 'cold iron', but products of civilization. Although it will probably become true one day when enough humans believe it to be true. But for now, it's not about metals. Fairies are nature spirits, so anything sufficiently removed from 'nature' will hurt us more than it should. Still, a sword is just a weirdly shaped lump of metal, so it's not that far removed from the raw stuff. It doesn't prevent me from being a blacksmith."
"Huh. Interesting, I guess."
"'You guess'? Whatever. What about you? I don't think being a farmer is all that interesting either."
The man didn't respond right away, his aura flickering rapidly with different emotions.
"It's not that bad. It's busy work. Waking up before dawn, taking care of the animals, and working in the fields till dusk. There's always something to do. When the harvest comes, my neighbors would help me out in exchange for doing the same. The winters are boring, but bearable. It's hard sometimes, but a satisfying life. Way safer than being a soldier."
There was nothing strange about Cador's answer, but Shirou still thought it sounded lonely. There was also something in the man's aura that said much the same thing. A wistful longing. A painful regret.
"You never thought about starting a family?"
"… it's not for me. I would be a terrible husband and worse father. Besides, I'm old. What woman would want a husband that would die before her children grow up? And where did that question come from? Are you projecting, Avel? Is there a fae lady with little faerlings you are hiding from me?"
"Faerlings? Is that even a word? And no, there is no lady. Fairies don't 'marry' as humans do. As for children…"
Did Scathach count? Shirou never tried to replace her parents, but he did basically raise her since she was nine. Did she consider him her father? It was an uncomfortable thought because he never tried to be one when she might've needed him to.
"So you have little faerlings stashed away somewhere!"
Annoyed, Shirou flicked a drop of soup across the room, the hot liquid hitting Cador in the forehead.
"Again, that's not a word. It's not a fairy, but… I saved a human girl once. When she was nine. I stayed with her for eight years, and then returned to her every ten years and stayed for a decade. It… weren't pleasant times, and we had some issues later, but the first eight years were peaceful. Do you think she saw me as her father back then?"
"… shit, that's heavy, Avel. Did she? I don't know. I can't speak for her. But if something like that happened to me, then maybe? Did she have any other adult humans taking care of her, or did you keep her here all that time?"
Shirou shook his head.
"She was a noble. I helped her return home after her parents were murdered. She had many advisors and lords in her castle, so it wasn't just me."
"Huh. Why does that sound familiar? Anyway, you are probably good, then. If it wasn't just you, then she probably saw you as an uncle or something."
"That's… good. Thanks, Cador."
"No problem. But you know I never had kids, right? Don't take my words for granted. My family was normal, so I can't really imagine this kind of abnormal situation that well."
"So that's not the reason you don't want to marry?"
"What? No! I don't have some weird daddy issues or anything. I'll have you know my parents loved me and I loved them back. I still look up to my old man and mom was a saint! A saint, I tell you! Well, besides the times she kicked the shit out of me when I snuck out with a neighbor's daughter in the night. But other than that, a saint!"
The mood became a bit lighter after that. Cador spent the rest of the evening telling Shirou about his 'saint' of a mother and various stupid situations he got up to as a kid. It was fun and a nice distraction from the heavier topics.
It was a shame there wasn't a Gateway anywhere nearby Shirou's cottage. The closest one was a week away, even if he used Reinforcement. And while he could force his way into the Reverse Side of the World, returning was only possible through a Gateway.
And so, Shirou had to search for medicinal herbs in the human world. It was the fifth day since he brought Cador here, and his injuries weren't dangerous anymore. He wasn't healed, not by a long shot, but he wouldn't open his wound with every movement anymore. The man was even quite determined to get better today. Still, it was better to have something stashed away just in case; the man was still weak, and the fever could return at any moment. Ideally, he would stay with Shirou for another week before he left.
But it would seem Cador didn't want to wait that long.
When Shirou returned to his cottage, the bed he left Cador in was empty. He stared for a moment at it before heading out again, searching for the stupid human. He was a little angry at himself for not noticing anything amiss this morning. What good was an ability to see emotions if he missed the most obvious signs?
Shirou found him a mile into the forest.
Cador was slowly making his way through the dense woods, panting with exhaustion after just a short distance. He didn't notice the fairy watching him from behind.
After a few more steps, he stumbled and fell to the side, but Shirou caught him before he hit the ground. Cador wasn't surprised, only smiling wryly at the fairy.
"Ah, you found me already. Damnit."
"…"
"What? Aren't you gonna tell me to return? To rest some more?"
"… you aren't a prisoner, Cador. If you truly want to leave, then I won't stop you."
The exhausted man let out a short laugh, his aura twisting in guilt and determination.
"Shit, Avel, you are too nice. You're making me feel like an asshole. Can't you be a little more like the stories? At least it would be easier to push you away."
They sat down on the soft forest floor. Shirou took out a bundle of herbs and Projected a small bowl. If Cador wouldn't stay, then the fairy would at least make him one last salve.
"I can't… I can't stay, Avel. I need to save them. My old village."
"What happened to them?"
"… slavers. Oh, they didn't call themselves that, but they were slavers. The local lord needed workers to build his castle, and it was cheaper to kidnap an entire village than to pay them to work. They killed those who resisted. Dozens. Each one I knew since I was a kid. I wasn't there. I made my farm in a neighboring village, away from all the expectations."
Shirou took off Cador's bandages to apply his salve. The wounds crisscrossing his back looked good, clean and dry.
"I went after them when I learned what happened. Pretended to be a warrior looking to join the lord's army. Dug up my old sword and everything. I saw how they treated them. Fucking animals! I… I lost it then. Killed the one next to me. I shouldn't have. They jumped me in seconds, and even if I was good in a scrap, there was no way I could take them all by myself. It was a miracle I escaped. They cut me up good, and, well, you know the rest. I ran into the forest, barely conscious from blood loss. How I got so far in, I have no idea."
Cador stood up after Shirou redid his bandages, looking at the red-haired fairy, silent, as if he waited for Shirou to judge him.
"You will die if you go, Cador."
The man closed his eyes, but the determination in his aura didn't fade.
"… I know. But I can't stay. I just… can't, Avel."
Was this how heroes were made, Shirou couldn't help but wonder. Just a man with an impossible goal but enough determination to match. A part of Shirou wanted to stop him, but it was a small part. He loved humanity for this exact reason. They shined brighter in moments like this—struggling to make the world better, even if only for a small group or just themselves. He saw Scathach in this man; he saw Cu and every warrior who risked their lives for a better world. He saw himself. The Hero of Justice that left his heart a long time ago, but left a glimmer that still lived on.
"You don't have a weapon."
"Yeah. I will find something. I won't rush blindly again, so don't worry."
"Wait a moment."
"Huh?"
Without explaining more, Shirou pulled on his fairy magic. A curtain of golden-red flames appeared behind him, reaching to the heavens and illuminating the forest in autumn colors. Golden Fairy Patterns glowed on his arms and crawled up his neck and face. His eyes blazed with inner light and a gap in space opened above him. A circular hole in reality surrounded by a ring of fire, a window into his Domain—Eternal Forge, showing an endless expanse of flames and flickers of countless weapons.
The Fairy of Fire and Iron lifted his hands and grasped at the invisible sword, a massive weapon hidden behind the veil of the World. Streams of scorching flames spilled from the portal above, coalescing around the unfinished weapon in a cocoon of magic.
Midjinior would make for a good base, but Shirou needed something slightly different. And smaller. He concentrated on the aspects he needed and with a resounding bang, the large blade shrank into something more suited to human hands. He searched for a suitable weapon to mix with what he had in mind and recalled the spear of wind that had once saved Scathach's life.
That would do.
Midjinior, to cut through any chains.
The spear of wind, to protect against any bindings.
After a minute of work, the magical spectacle faded away, leaving behind a stunned Cador staring at a pitch-black sword with silver engravings representing the wind.
Shirou nodded, satisfied, and offered the weapon to Cador. Shirou couldn't defeat all the evils in the world by himself, he wasn't a savior of this World, but he could at least help where he could.
"Here, take this. It doesn't have a name, but with this blade no chains will bar you, and no bindings will stop you."
Cador seemed to need a minute, though. Shirou barely showed his magic around him and this sudden display was probably a bit much. After another few seconds, he came to his senses.
"I.. Shit, Avel, I can't take it. Something like this belongs to some hero or a king's treasury, not me. It's too much."
"It's a gift freely given, Cador. If you are afraid I'm trying to trick you, then I want a story as payment. A story about a man who brought a corrupt lord to justice and saved a village from slavery."
The man hesitated for a moment longer, but ultimately took the blade.
"… damnit. Fine, I will take it. I'm not sure about that story, but I will try."
"That's all I want."
Cador left soon after, Shirou watching him until he disappeared between the trees and then stared in the same direction for hours more. Would ever hear that story? Or will Cador fade into history as another foolish casualty? Whatever the case would be, Shirou was sure Cador would die. People with such strong convictions never stopped. There would always be another village to save, another lord to overthrow, and another monster to kill. Heroes rarely got to die of old age.
AN
An experimental chapter with almost no dialogue tags. Let me know if it was easy to read or a confusing mess.
This was chapter 2 out of planned 5 before the next arc. Next time, if I named my chapters, will be 'The Land Where Shadows Die'.
it wasn't an issue to read for me, great chapter as always
I love Avel/Shirou's relationship with Scathach and his worries if he's a good parent/guardian/mentor to her. Cador is an interesting and funny character and I like how the whole interaction was handled. Shirou just gave him that chance to do what he already wanted to do even though being a Hero means he probably won't have a happy ending.
Chapter 13 - Wanderer 3
Chapter 13 – Wanderer 3
Time passes differently for immortals.
Shirou noticed it long ago, but the older he got, the faster the years seemed to fly by. When he first arrived in Faery, his perception of time was still that of a human, and just a few years of lack of progress in recreating Midjinior was unbearable. Later, he could go for decades without leaving his forge and barely notice. It wasn't until he returned to the human world that he started getting impatient again. Interacting with humans made him appreciate every passing moment, and cherish every meeting, because when he saw them again, they could be unrecognizable or dead from old age. Their short lives kept him anchored in the now, making him pay attention and keep track of time. But the more of the mortals he knew passed away, the more detached he felt.
He feared losing himself in the forge, only to wake up to naught but dust and bones a century later.
"You're making that face again, Avel."
He sighed and turned to a beautiful woman busy embroidering a colorful dress. She looked like a human with vivid blue eyes and flowing blonde hair, but her long pointed ears and translucent dragonfly-like wings showed she was an Aelf. A fairy with a 'human' trait.
Seeing his friend visibly older than he last met her only made his lips curl down more.
"I'm not, Tile."
"I must be seeing things then. Clearly, you aren't sad a certain human died recently. A human wielding a 'fairy sword' he received from a 'red fairy of the forge'. I suppose hundreds of fairies fit that description and Dienu lied it was you. That sulking face must be your normal expression."
Shirou turned away and puffed up his cheeks. His friends were ganging up on him!
"I'm not sulking! You aren't even looking my way!"
Even while facing away, he could still hear Tile sigh and put down her needles.
"Honestly, you are becoming more like Dienu with each passing decade. I thought that out of the two of you, you were the more mature one, but now I see you're both equally childish. Now stop acting like my daughter and tell me why it's bothering you so much. From what I've heard, you only knew him for a few days."
Before he could respond, the aforementioned daughter perked up from the corner she was playing with and trotted up to the red-haired fairy, lifting her hands and flapping her little wings.
"Uncle Avel. Up! Up!"
No match for such a devastating display of cuteness, Shirou's frown melted away, unable to withstand the innocent gaze of those dazzling blue eyes.
Despite being thirty years old, the Aelf child looked more like a two-year-old human. She didn't have a name, as it was an Aelf custom to name their children only after they were fifty. Aelfs could have children with both humans and other Aelfs, but an Aelf would always create another Aelf, no matter who the other parent was. This was Shirou's second meeting with Tile's daughter, but even when he met her for the first time ten years ago, he didn't see her father.
Maybe his friend didn't want her daughter to see her father waste away before her eyes, so she never took him to this village. Whatever the case, it was none of Shirou's business.
He picked the cute girl up and sat her on his lap and Projected a figurine of a knight for her to play with.
He glanced at Tile's, feeling her expectant gaze, and sighed. It was hard to put his feeling into words sometimes.
"It's not his death that's bothering me. I knew he would die rather sooner than later. It's just… I feel like it's my fault, you know."
"Your fault?" Tile tilted her head in confusion. "Wasn't he on death's door when you met him? If not for you, nobody would even know his name, nor would he leave his mark on history. I heard humans tell his story, even in our secluded village."
"… if I didn't give him that sword, he would stop at saving his village and live a peaceful life."
"Really, Avel? I'm not that knowledgeable about heroes, but even I know that's unlikely. Besides, wasn't he quite old already?"
He was, by the standards of the times. Cador died at fifty-one, an 'elderly' age for a human. It's not like no humans lived for longer. Some had supernatural traits that gifted them a longer lifespan, but even a 'regular' human could live to a hundred if he was lucky. It's just that in the current period, it was hard to avoid disease or injury for so long. With no advanced medicine and healthcare, old injuries piled up until simple flu or fall killed you. Especially in the case of warriors.
It truly didn't bother him that Cador died. That was inevitable, and while it saddened Shirou, he knew it would happen one day. No, the problem was that he didn't think about the man until he learned about his death. Fifteen years passed in a blink of an eye, and Cador was dead, the story of his 'heroic' last stand was the first he heard of him since he sent him off.
Just like he told him when he gave him that sword.
Was it a coincidence, or some twisted joke of the World? He didn't want to think so, but it just wouldn't leave his mind. The death of a single human hit him harder than usual, irrational guilt clawing at his heart.
As if sensing his mood, the little Aelf child hopped off his lap and left to play in the corner, leaving him alone again.
Shirou spent the rest of the day reminiscing, watching the Aelf child play with her mother. Definitely not sulking. It wasn't until the evening that something drew him out of his funk.
Something he wished would never happen.
One of the records in Eternal Forge broke. That alone wasn't unusual. Many of his weapons were out there, in the hands of humans and fairies, and when something happened to them, his records reflected that change. But this one was different.
With trembling hands, he pulled out a miniature spear. Nothing more than a small red stick, a replica of a much larger one his student wielded. It looked undamaged, but his Eyes saw the crack that circled the haft in the middle. It was something he told her to break in half to signal she needed his help. But…
… only if she was in mortal danger.
He stared at the little weapon with wide eyes, trying to deny what they showed him, to dispel this illusion. But it was useless. Even when the world faded into monochrome as he focused on the small weapon, it remained unchanged. A vivid red line on his palm, like freshly spilled blood, a clear break in the middle.
He couldn't escape the truth.
"… no."
He didn't remember how he left Tile's village.
By the time his thoughts returned to a somewhat orderly fashion, he was halfway to Skye. His body burned with golden light, filled to capacity with magical energy and Reinforcement, yet he didn't stop trying to cram in more, the runoff creating a tail of glowing particles behind him. Every second counted, and he wasn't so fragile to break from something like that. He was a fairy, a spirit of nature, and for all he still had his human body, it was just a shell to anchor his soul.
He ran in a straight line to Scathach, cutting through forests, lakes, and human settlements without care, although at his speed all they would see was a brief golden streak. Tile's home wasn't that far from his student's isle, but he still gritted his teeth in frustration.
He was so slow!
Once again he wasn't there when she needed him. It was irrational, and he knew she didn't want him to hover over her shoulder at all times, but right now it seemed like he should've had. They already had that conversation, and Shirou accepted he couldn't always cling to her shadow, but still…
It didn't take more than a few minutes before he arrived on the shores of Skye, leaping over the cliffs and rushing further inland. The closer he got to Scathach's castle, the heavier the ball of worry and fear in his stomach became.
Skye was struggling for a long time now, ever since his student's last war with Aife. She told him it was a quick and easy war, that Cu took care of her sister and ended the conflict before it could begin in earnest. But it seemed like that brief war was the last nail to Skye's coffin. Despite suffering few casualties, the population of Skye kept decreasing faster than ever. She always reassured him that nothing was wrong, that it was just a momentary stagnation, yet each time he visited, the shadows of Skye grew thicker, and Scathach's aura dimmer.
She was ninety years old by now but looked no older than thirty, and many feared what they didn't understand. Even her own subjects whispered she wasn't human anymore, that death itself feared to take her life.
On his way here, he saw an aura of unease hanging over the entire island, weary humans looking to the north, others running away. Now, when he stood before Scathach's castle, he knew Skye would never be the same.
He could barely make out his student's home, shrouded in the dense, dark shadows that clung to the hill. It was as if night fell over the castle and only the castle. Shirou frantically searched the entire structure but found no trace of Scathach. There was no one here. The servants and soldiers either fled or something worse happened to them. His breath left him in quick gasps as he double-checked every room.
She wasn't here. She wasn't here!
With icy fingers of panic clawing at his thoughts, he expanded his senses, trying to find her magical signature. He pushed through the shadows, ignoring how they devoured his magical energy, and finally found a faint trace. He followed it, finding himself before the castle gates. Shadows seemed thicker here, almost like black oil. They crawled up his legs, seeping below his clothes.
Shirou paid them no mind. He needed to reach Scathach.
His Perspective shifted, and shadows fled. Instead, ethereal wisps of smoke filled the area, rising from the ground and coiling around the large steel gates. In the middle, where two wings of the gates met, a narrow seam in space floated. A fissure in reality, an after-echo of a forced passage.
He could smell Scathach's scent from beyond.
Whatever spirited her away used the gates to cross between worlds. And so Shirou did the same. He dug his fingers into the gap, slamming the weight of his existence against it. His magical energy spread across the castle grounds, filling the air with countless golden motes of light, chasing away the darkness. He focused on the gates, on the concepts that made them what they were. A divide. An opening between two places, between the inside and the outside. A passage in the walls that separated. The castle of Skye was old. Old enough that it possessed a mystery of its own, and Shirou used that mystery to force the lingering gap open again. After all, the gates that have been opened once can be opened again.
With a screech of tortured reality, the gap widened, until it was big enough to let the fairy pass. An oval cutout in space, filled with impenetrable shadows. He leaped inside, uncaring of whatever may lie on the other side. All that mattered was getting to Scathach.
For a second he floated in absolute darkness, then his feet hit the ground and he found himself on an endless plain of dark soil covered with a scattering of bones. A gray haze filled the space, obscuring the horizon and blending with the featureless sky, but Shirou barely noticed the strange surroundings. His eyes focused on the form of his student not far away.
He found her, but… something was wrong.
She had her back turned to him, standing motionless like a statue, staring away at the indistinct horizon. She appeared uninjured, but the feeling of wrongness was so strong that it crushed his elation at finding her before he could act on it. He couldn't see her aura. His breath caught as he stared at her back, dreading breaking the silence. He wanted to call out to her, to take her hand and leave this dreary place, but was sure this illusion of a happy ending would break the moment he made his move.
Time seemed to stretch, a single second stretching on forever, before Shirou's posture shifted slightly, his foot sliding on the soft ground a fraction of an inch as the soil sank under his weight.
But that was enough.
That almost unperceivable sound was louder than thunder in this land of absolute silence, and Scathach's head snapped his way, red eyes staring from beneath a dark veil, pinning the fairy in place.
A glimmer of hope ignited in Shirou's heart at the sight of her face. Maybe he was just paranoid. He tried to push a smile onto his face.
"Scath-"
He didn't even get a single word out before the tip of a crimson spear rushed at his eye.
He leaned away from Scathach's lunge, barely avoiding having his skull pierced. That wasn't just an angry Scathach. That first strike was a death blow. If he didn't dodge, she would've killed him. A short sword manifested in his hand immediately after, deflecting the following attacks. A quick exchange of blows later, Shirou tried to reason with her again.
"Scathach, stop! Please!"
But no matter how much he pleaded, she wouldn't.
Strike after strike, his student's speed increased, slowly overwhelming her teacher. He always knew she surpassed him in pure weapon skills, but they never fought for real and there was only so far you could go in a spar. Now he was getting pushed back. Her attacks methodically dismantled his defense, cutting his guard open. Each of Scathach's moves was perfect, distilled into an absolute minimum of movement, backed by decades of experience. She had an answer to every block and parry; her spear was always in the ideal position to take advantage of his openings.
Soon, small cuts started to appear on Shirou's body.
He was reluctant to attack her back or use his magic, but at this rate, it was inevitable. Her next swipe met not his short sword, but a large edge of Midjinior, the blade popping into existence in a puff of golden-red flames.
Yet it wasn't so easy.
Somehow, Scathach's crimson spear skidded across the large sword's edge and continued on its way, cutting into Shirou's shoulder.
Grimacing, he summoned more weapons to hamper her and focused on his Sight once more. There had to be something that made her act like this. Her aura was obscured, but there was nothing that could hide from his Sight, even if it wasn't always immediately obvious. Her face was expressionless behind the veil, locked in a placid mask of indifference even as she tried her best to kill him. Initially, Shirou thought this veil was the culprit, yet there was no magical energy in it at all. But as he looked deeper, he spotted wispy shadows clinging to the fabric, barely noticeable on the dark cloth. It may not be the source of this enchantment, but it was clearly related.
With this new knowledge, Shirou concentrated on his Eternal Forge. He needed to destroy this veil, and the flames of his Domain would be the easiest solution. He just needed to do it in such a way that wouldn't hurt Scathach.
But as if sensing his intentions, something revealed itself, a sudden voice surprising him and disrupting his focus.
"How pitiful."
Shirou's head snapped up toward a figure shrouded in shadows floating above the plain, within the range of his Domain and yet somehow avoiding his notice. A woman in a cloak of feathers that oozed darkness, her face half-hidden by a cloak's hood. He sensed no magical energy from her, yet her entrance brought a halt to the fighting, even Scathach's relentless assault stopping in the face of this being that demanded their attention with her presence alone.
"A commend you, little fairy. You found your way into this realm, your love guiding you to this desolate land. All for a single human." Her mouth twisted in a malicious smile. "All for nothing."
A primal part of Shirou's mind screamed to run away and hide, but he ignored it. This being, whatever she was, kidnapped Scathach and chained her will with its shadows. She needed to die. The only reason he didn't attack right away was his worry for his student. If he unleashed all his weapons and flames, Scathach could get hurt, by him or this being.
Still, he prepared to draw on his well of power as his eyes narrowed at the floating woman.
"What did you do to Scathach?"
She laughed at him; the sound carrying through this empty world, stirring the gray haze. She laughed with joy and hate, and even if he couldn't see her eyes, he could still feel her gaze—madness restrained by shadows.
It made his skin crawl.
"Ah, how truly wretched you are, Avel of Nibelung. I did nothing to her but collect what was owed. She made a pact, and no matter how much you've meddled, I will have my due."
"… so you are the one who gave Scathach her runes."
The woman's smile didn't wane, yet it carried a hint of bitterness now.
"Yes, those things. Toys of a half-blind fool searching for salvation, but… were they not what she needed? When her guardian was nowhere to be found, I offered her a fair deal. She accepted. So why are you interfering now?"
He tried recalling everything his student told him about the deal she made with this being. Scathach never told him much, but he was sure of at least one thing.
"Wasn't she supposed to come here only after she died? Aren't you the one who is interfering?"
The woman burst into laughter again. She clutched at her stomach, laughing so hard she doubled over, shaking in the air. And then she abruptly stopped, a disgusted expression replacing her mirth in an instant.
"… truly disgusting." She turned to Scathach. "Child, deal with this intruder. I won't suffer his presence for longer than I must."
Scathach, silent and motionless throughout the conversation, moved again, but she didn't charge at Shirou. Instead, she walked towards him slowly; her spear quivering in her hand as if her body fought with itself, her movements jerky like a marionette with too-taught strings. Shirou heart ignited with hope again and his face hardened with determination.
His student was still there—bound by shadows, but aware of what was happening. He just needed to deal with the woman.
Thousands of blades burst into existence around the cloaked being, a tide of fire following right after. Shirou didn't hold back, filling the space with iron and flames, aiming to kill the woman as fast as possible.
But it wouldn't be so simple, it seemed.
"Naïve!" the woman shouted, and his flames fizzled out, the weapons fading away as shadows pressed on the entire area, the sky growing darker. "You think I'll allow it, wretched fairy? In my own domain? Child, stop dawdling and do your job."
Whatever control Scathach had over her body disappeared, a slight quivering of her weapon was the only sign she was still there, and she lunged at him again. The dance of swords and a spear began anew, Shirou defending while trying to destroy her veil without harming his student. He tried to attack the floating woman again, but she somehow restricted the range of his Eternal Forge, the shadows pressing on his domain from every direction. She easily dodged or deflected the few weapons he fired at her from the ground.
Seeing that it could take a while, he focused on Scathach. She was the one more skilled with a spear, but with his Domain as a defense he could afford to concentrate on burning off her veil.
Wisps of golden-red flames flashed around her head, fiery tongues trying to destroy the fragile piece of cloth. It wasn't easy with Scathach jumping around, but slowly he was getting closer with each attempt. He could've simply bathed her in his flames, but the point was to not kill her. Getting burned by flames hot as the sun wasn't conducive to that goal.
Unfortunately, his task soon got more difficult.
Scathach took out five pebbles from a pouch on her belt and with a touch engraved a series of runes on them. The small stones created a floating formation around her, held in place by barely noticeable shadows. The stones lighted up with magical energy and an area ten feet across around Scathach became a void zone for Eternal Forge. His perception cut out, nor could he materialize his blades or flames.
Shirou grimaced. That… could be a problem.
He didn't have time to break the stones, because a few seconds later she was on him again, but this time he could barely defend himself. When she got close enough to attack him, the zone of nullification clipped off most of his Domain, leaving him with a single sword to defend himself. And it wasn't going well. He tried to create some distance, but Scathach seemed to have an endless amount of magical energy. Her body was reinforced with runes, and as the fight progressed, more and more energy flowed into the ancient letters, further increasing her speed and strength. Shirou, on the other hand, was slowly getting exhausted, his reserves of magical energy running low as mana in the air refused to enter his Fairy Patterns.
Grunting with frustration, Shirou dodged another of Scathach's blows, barely avoiding having his stomach impaled.
He glanced at the cruel thing floating above, at the shadows crushing Eternal Forge. It shouldn't be possible to even affect it, but this wasn't the human world, nor the Reverse Side of the World. This land was some kind of pocket world apart from the greater whole. A realm of shadows ruled by an insane woman whose will was law. It squeezed at his soul, constraining his Domain. Whatever she was doing, it wasn't magic as he understood it. It wasn't magecraft or sorcery, nor fairy magic.
Another wound opened at his side and Shirou had to summon a wave of flames behind him, hurling the conflagration at his student. He couldn't afford to play it safe anymore. Scathach dodged, dashing away, but it helped little.
The shadows pressing on him, the laughing woman watching the spectacle with glee, Scathach's relentless assault. It was getting too much. His head was spinning.
His Domain hurt.
He needed… he needed something… more.
He pulled on his well of power, calling on Eternal Forge. It was the core of his being, his soul given form. In the very center of it, deep inside his body, the sword he saw as the manifestation of his soul still existed. It was no longer a void in a shape of a sword surrounded by a nimbus of miniature golden weapons, but a finished blade on its own. An ever-shifting sword of gold and iron, always in flux, always in balance. Gold and iron flowed and mixed, but one never overwhelmed the other.
Now Shirou leaned on the gold. He reached into the core of his being, searching for the truth that underlaid his existence since he arrived in Avalon.
His connection to the World.
He was a spirit of nature, a fairy of Faery, a part of the World itself. His metaphorical hands sank into the gold, trying to find that connection. It was there, somewhere. He was sure. He was certain of it as he was certain he was born a human.
Then he found it. A fragile string of power, a line of infinite size, branching into innumerable filaments of his Fairy Patterns. He grasped at it and pulled. Gold slowly grew as a torrent of mana channeled directly into his soul, breaching through dimensions.
Shirou inhaled sharply, feeling like he could breathe freely for the first time in his life. His eyes, the familiar luminescent gold, turned silver like a perfectly polished blade. Eternal Forge expanded again, fighting against the shadow's pressure and Scathach's magecraft. Magical energy surged from within, filling his reserves in seconds before spilling out. The surrounding ground slowly transmuted into silver swords, the blades growing out of the very soil and scattered bones. He brought a piece of Faery into this world—a piece of the realm of the fairies filtered through his soul. It eroded this land, the very fabric of reality turning into an extension of Faery.
"You!" the floating woman screamed. "You dare to taint my home!? Insolent wretch! I will show you what it means to anger a god. And you, child! What do you think you are doing? Stop playing around and try to kill him already."
Scathach took a low stance, the tip of her spear still shaking slightly. Magical energy gathered around her, the crimson weapon blazing with red lightning. A familiar attack. Something she showed him before. Something that was almost impossible to defend against.
His student threw the spear, the weapon splitting the air with a shriek of magical energy, but Shirou didn't panic. The same spear appeared in his hand, the record of the one flying at him, and he used it in the same manner. The entire sequence, from Scathach releasing her spear, to him taking out his and charging it, didn't take more than a second. He knew where the spear aimed, so he mirrored its target, thrusting the weapon at his student's heart.
Two spear tips met and fate-defying attacks nullified each other in a shower of sparks, the weapons spinning away.
He tried to store Scathach's spear, but a series of runes flashed on its haft and it flew back to its owner's hand. Shirou sighed. Well, that would've been too easy.
"Useless!"
The floating god didn't seem pleased. She looked down at him and shadows gathered around her.
Now that he could keep Scathach at bay again, he needed to focus on the woman. Destroying his student's veil would take too long and he didn't want to find out what this insane woman still had in store.
He took a step, and silver followed, spreading across the ground. More blades for him to use.
He pulled out hundreds of weapons, firing them at the cloaked woman, but she easily dodged them, twirling in the air with supernatural grace. He had to bring her down somehow.
Eternal Forge slowly fought against the pressure of this realm, but its range was still limited. He prepared to jump, but Scathach was on him again, locking him in place. The silver blades slowed her down a little, but she was too good of a warrior to lose her footing so easily.
The supposed god also made its move.
The gray haze that filled this world darkened, shadowy figures flickering in the distance. Soon, vaguely humanoid wraiths emerged from the indistinct mist, running across the flat land. Hungry ghosts with glowing blue eyes and pitch-black talons.
They filled the horizon by the tens of thousands.
"… shit."
Shirou muttered a curse and manifested more blades, firing them at the approaching shades. They were rather fragile, dispersing after a single blow, but he noticed their numbers weren't decreasing, the ones he destroyed simply reformed again after a few seconds. And they were getting closer.
Despite his Domain regaining some of its range and power, it was slowly becoming too much. Defending against Scathach, sniping at the floating woman, and now keeping the horde of wraiths away. The last bit was the most concerning factor. So far, he was able to hold them at the border of Eternal Forge, but his flames weren't doing much, only physical impacts seemed to damage them.
And Shirou was slowly running out of weapons.
They weren't being destroyed, but he couldn't retrieve those that flew outside the range of his Domain, which was most of the ones keeping the shades away. Thousands of weapons littered the dark plain, and he still had thousands more available, but he wasn't any closer to dealing with the cloaked woman than when he first arrived here. If this continued, he would have to rely on Tracing instead of simply taking the weapons out.
He gritted his teeth in frustration, glaring at the laughing being. The shaking spear of his student tried to gouge his eyes out again, forcing him to call on his flames and blades, pushing her away. He risked getting her injured to create some space, then poured more magical energy into his Reinforcement and jumped.
His leap took him all the way to the woman, but he was slower than the weapons he fired, so she easily avoided him, moving just enough to be out of range of his sword, as if taunting him. Still, that was good enough. As he passed her, hundreds of swords and spears materialized all around her, a blade for every inch of her body. It wasn't enough. A band of shadows surrounded her in an instant, sucking in every weapon and spitting them out in opposite directions. Yet Shirou didn't give up. At the same moment he attacked her with his Eternal Forge, a gigantic sword materialized under his feet, acting as a foothold. He pushed off it, reversing his direction and flying at the woman's back. She whirled around, her mouth open in surprise as his sword pierced her chest. For a second, they were inches apart, silver eyes glaring at a shadowed hood as his sword sank into her heart, the edge easily piercing her flesh.
Too easily.
His blade passed through her body as if she was made of smoke, shadows trailing behind the edge, and her surprised expression morphed into a mocking smile.
"Ha! As if your wretched self could accomplish anything!" She raised her hand and the sky thickened with darkness. "Hunter of the Plains, devour his bones!"
Inky shadows coalesced behind the woman, gathering from the dark sky, and spun into a silhouette of a giant bear. The beast stood fifty feet tall, its hind legs touching the ground even as its head towered above the floating woman. The shadows that made up its bulk shifted into yellowed bone and orbs of icy flames ignited in its eye sockets. It roared and slammed one paw into the falling fairy.
He shielded himself with a wall of summoned weapons, but the beast's limb barely slowed down; the force behind its bone paw plowed through the barricade with a crunch of breaking steel and hit Shirou like a giant hammer.
He hit the earth like a meteor, creating a small crater and coughing up blood. Yet he didn't have time to recover. The colossal bear continued its assault, its bone forelimb falling on the downed fairy. Shirou stumbled away with a groan, feeling his ribs flare with pain. Each breath was painful, but he moved anyway.
It was that or death.
The tide of wraiths was almost upon him. He needed more space, he thought idly, feeling strangely detached. Sounds of the battle dulled, each of his actions felt mechanical, perfect in timing yet occurring seemingly without his input.
His head pounded from repeated hits and mental exhaustion, but he pulled on his connection with Faery anyway, drawing in more mana. Silver spread from him, bleaching the world of death and shadows, the ground sprouting more blades. Blades made through his soul. Blades that he could feel with Eternal Forge. He pulled on them with his Domain, ripping the silver straight out of the earth and sending a wave of silver swords at the shades. It worked better than he expected, the inherent mana of Faery corroding the wraith's ghostly forms, preventing them from reforming so easily.
He exhaled. At least, some progress.
But when one problem was solved, another reappeared. From the corner of his eye, he saw his student charging. She ran by the beast's paw, the tip of her spear trailed sparks as it skid on the bone. At least the colossal monster stopped its assault, reluctant to hit Scathach. Probably. Or maybe it thought it didn't need to bother.
Still, Shirou engaged her again, but her runes still prevented him from burning off her veil, even if he could manifest his weapons, albeit with difficulty. They fought right next to the bear. He glanced up, but the woman was content to just watch, it seemed. Then he got kicked in the side for taking his eyes off Scathach. The powerful kick drove the air from his lungs and sent him flying until his back hit the bone paw. His head was ringing, but he didn't dare stop else his student or the bear killed him.
Yet something caught his attention. A charred line on the bear's paw.
His eyes widened, and he looked at his student. She stood a short distance away, not attacking even as her body clearly tried to, her spear shaking as her body spasmed.
He lunged at her, a spear in hand, and the deadly dance began anew. Fire and steel filled the air, silver and iron holding the wraiths away while he wracked his brain for a solution.
The ghosts were dealt with for now, and the bear wasn't much of a problem. Its immense size made it powerful, but slow. Easy to dodge. Scathach clearly retained some control, so she wasn't as much of a problem in the long term as he expected. That left only the woman. He needed to bring her down somehow.
For all she proclaimed herself a god, she wasn't that skilled or strong herself, content to let her minions kill him. Her shadows were versatile, but not omnipotent. His silver seemed to work well against them. He just needed to reach her and deal with her intangible form.
And he had just the thing.
He reached for a certain sword in his Domain. A weapon to bind a piece of the world into physical form. It would serve as a foundation for something else. After all, this woman wasn't made of blood, but of shadows and death. He wasn't that familiar with the concepts, but it would have to be enough.
He fell into a rhythm, allowing himself a bit of time to forge. A ball of brilliant flames appeared in his grip as he worked on the new weapon. He continued to dodge an occasional swipe of a giant paw, all the while sending more silver blades at the incoming wraiths and fighting with Scathach.
Still, he needed to reach the floating woman somehow.
He pulled more on his connection with the World, accelerating the spread of silver blades. A vague sense of stretching emanated from the depths of his soul, filling him with unease, but he couldn't allow himself to stop.
He steeled his nerves when a deep thud resounded from the newly created weapon. It was ready.
It was now or never.
A ring of golden-red flames appeared around him, rapidly expanding and pushing Scathach away, the flat land turning into a sea of fire. He then jumped onto the bear, a barrage of weapons drilling into its head as a distraction. The woman didn't fly away even when he reached the beast's back, close enough for Eternal Forge to encompass her. She just laughed again.
Four giant swords pinned the bear's legs in place, Traced copies of the one he used as springboard earlier. With the beast immobilized, Shirou did something he did away with long ago.
He chanted an aria. A spell not for his magecraft, but for his soul.
"I summon the flames of Nibelung; let the gates to Eternal Forge open."
And the sky caught fire.
A circular portal covered the heavens, hundreds of feet across. Beyond it, a boiling sea of golden-red flames and iron writhed with power—a world of infinite depth. Shirou bared his soul to the world, and even the shadows couldn't deny him. The flames on the ground disappeared together with the silver blades growing out of the ground only to appear high above, falling out of the flaming sky like a rain of mercury.
The woman never stopped laughing. Even when silver swords cut into her form by the hundreds, taking chunks of her shadowy body. She just stared up, her mad laugh carrying over the rumble of flames and falling steel as her shields of black shadows broke again and again. But if his blades were doing any damage, it didn't show at all.
It didn't matter. That attack was just a distraction.
He jumped off the bear's back; the force crashing the beast into the ground. The newly forged blade flashed into his grip—a black single-edged sword trailing shadows—and less than a second later it hit the woman's side, sliding between her ribs.
Blood and severed feathers fluttered in the air.
"Got you," Shirou said, his voice exhausted.
She turned to face him, lips parted in surprise as if she forgot he existed, then a vicious smile twisted her mouth as a band of shadows surrounded them, cutting off Shirou's Domain.
"Still not enough, wretched fairy."
"It will be."
He grappled her, one hand keeping the sword forcing her into physical form in place. Fairy magic flared around them, not to harm her, but to increase his weight, and they fell to the ground, the woman struggling to break free on the way down.
Shadows crawled over his form and bit into his flesh, but Shirou held on, determined to finish this, and they soon hit the ground next to the still immobilized bear, the impact rattling his bones as they rolled on the flat plain. His sword cut through her body, gouging her flesh, but the cut healed almost as fast as it opened. They ended in a standoff, Shirou's sword still buried in her chest and her binding him with shadows.
Her proximity held back Eternal Forge, but he did alike for most of her powers. The silver of Faery was still spreading around him, suppressing the shadows and keeping the wraiths away.
"And now what? Your magic is sealed. Your blades cannot reach me, your flames less than worthless. You managed to bring me down, an impressive feat for an animal lashing out in anger, but how long will it take my minions to finish you? Or was this all your feeble mind wished for? A useless gesture, a show of defiance. Meaningless. In the end you accomplished nothing, Avel of Nibelung."
Shirou listened to her tirade but he barely heard her. He was filled to bursting with magical energy, mana of Faery pouring into him in an endless stream, but his mind was sluggish. Exhausted. He didn't know how much time passed since the battle started, but it felt like hours. Hours of non-stop fighting at full capacity. He was wrung out.
He noticed a glint of red in the distance.
"I did enough." He said.
"… huh?"
Her chest exploded in viscera, the tip of a crimson spear skewering the woman's heart with a crackle of demonic energy.
She stared dumbly at the protruding weapon before turning her head.
"… child?"
The second spear lopped off her head, sending it tumbling away.
Scathach stood there, a ring of densely written runes surrounding her in a ring of burning script, searing away the shadows. Throughout the fight, her spear was always shaking, and at first he thought it was because she struggled against the enchantment that controlled her body. And she was, in a sense. It wasn't until she left a message on the bear's paw that he realized she was secretly writing runes in the air. He should've realized it earlier. He saw it before, after all.
He couldn't help but smile at her. He was proud of how far she has gotten. Not even gods could chain her for long anymore.
"Teacher!" She dropped her spears and tackled him in a hug. "I-I'm so sorry! I didn't…"
"It's fine, Scathach. I know."
He tried to reassure her, but his student kept on apologizing. For what, he had no idea. It wasn't like she attacked him of her own volition.
At least it was over now.
With the woman's demise, the colossal bone bear stopped moving and started crumbling away. So were the wraiths, their shadowy forms dissipating into wisps of black smoke one by one. Even the omnipresent haze of gray lost its oppressive aura.
He was about to look for an exit when a sudden laugh startled him.
A laugh he grew familiar with during the fight.
"How disgusting." A decapitated head of the woman said, her voice laced with venom. "A wretched fairy spreading his own suffering with a smile, choosing to blind himself to the truth."
Shirou glared at the dying being, ready to blast it into oblivion.
"… shut up, thing."
"So you won't tell her, after all? Well, it's not like I expected anything of you, but you still continue to reach new levels of disappointment."
He knew what she was hinting at, but this wasn't the place or time to talk about it with Scathach. The woman was just trying to hurt him as much as she could in her last moment, to drive a wedge between him and his student. He wouldn't allow her.
He glanced at Scathach, seeing confusion and fear in her aura.
"Teacher? What is she talking about?"
"I don't kn-"
His eyes widened as the words died on his tongue.
The woman laughed again, although with less energy, her head slowly turning into motes of darkness.
"You dare try to lie now, Avel of Nibelung? Here? You dragged a piece of your realm into my home, now suffer its laws. Child, do you think I brought you here without reason? No. You were always meant to spend your eternity in this Land of Shadows. That was the deal we made. You would die and become one of my shades, resting away in peaceful oblivion. If not for him." She threw a glare at the silver-eyed fairy. "A thing that was once man and his blessing. Come on, tell her what it does. Or do you not even know yourself, wretched fairy?"
"…"
"… truly disgusting. The one you call your teacher, child, was born a human like yourself. By means hidden from my eyes, he became a spirit of nature, an extension of the World itself. And that is what the core of the being known as Avel is. A mortal turned immortal. A weapon of humanity turned the will of nature. A thing that should not be!"
Surprise colored Scathach's aura, but only slightly. The revelation that he has once been a human didn't shock her that much. In the end, it was simply a minor detail of his past. Still, Shirou grimaced. That wasn't the important part.
"… and why does it matter? It doesn't change who Teacher is. I knew his blessing prolonged my life, if that's what you are trying to say. I knew for a long time."
"It matters, child, because his blessing didn't just prolong your life. It kept changing you on a fundamental level. My shadows were supposed to use you as a gate to cross into my realm, but his blessing prevented them from doing so. They needed a mortal as an anchor, someone with a connection to the human world, but with a fate that inevitably led to death. You were perfect. A warrior queen to act as a beacon, your soul screaming into the world louder than any other, your fame beckoning the deceased. But now, it's no longer the case, Scathach of Skye. You are a human turned immortal. Not like a fairy, and not like a god, but something else entirely. I pity you, for his blessing brought ruin to your kingdom, the ghosts stuck in the mortal world slowly driving your people away. He stole your afterlife and made you usurp death itself, so you will watch as everything you worked for in your life crumbles away while millennia gnaw on your mind. Forever locked away in this empty prison. The lonely Queen of the Land of Shadows, sentenced to the eternity of isolation by the one who loved you the most. You truly are… most cruel… of all… Avel… of…"
Silence reigned after the woman's head finally faded away.
He didn't dare look Scathach in the eyes, afraid of what he would see there. But it was in vain. There was no one else in this entire land, so her aura filled the world, finding its way to his Eyes anyway. He could see fear and pain, love and hurt. Longing and sorrow. A turbulent mix of emotions that could mean a myriad of things, but his exhausted mind spiraled down to the worst conclusions.
"… is it true, Teacher?"
"I…"
The world spined as Shirou tried to come up with an answer, but he could utter no lies. He could tell her excuses, that he didn't want it, that he had no choice, but those were empty words.
"I… didn't want it for you, Scathach. This burden."
She will hate you. If not now, then in a thousand years.
He couldn't breathe.
"Teacher, I… I don't… hate you."
Not yet.
He knew she was telling the truth, but it hurt even more.
"I…"
"Please. Don't… go. Forget what she said. We will figure something out."
You can release her. A single sword will do. It will be painless.
He clutched at his chest, taking a step back. Silver followed him.
He dared to look at her again, and it broke his heart. She was on the verge of tears, her expression pleading. Her aura burned his Eyes, bright and beautiful. Always beautiful.
It's all your fault.
She still loved him, still trusted him, even after all this.
It was too much.
He took another step and left the world of shadows, standing once again before the gates of Skye. He left her behind.
Coward.
In the deepest part of his soul, the ever-shifting sword of gold and iron glowed like the sun as an unstoppable current of mana poured in from Faery. It wouldn't stop. Gold took over more and more until the last remains of iron sank underneath it. Shirou's silver eyes broke, splintering like a shattered mirror, spilling mercurial tears and washing away all colors.
A silver fairy looked at the sky, smiling with careless relief, its human heart sealed deep, away from all the pain.
By the time Scathach managed to leave the Land of Shadows, the silver fairy was already gone.
Time passes differently for immortals.
Shirou noticed it long ago, but the older he got, the faster the years seemed to fly by. When he first arrived in Faery, his perception of time was still that of a human, and just a few years of lack of progress in recreating Midjinior was unbearable. Later, he could go for decades without leaving his forge and barely notice. It wasn't until he returned to the human world that he started getting impatient again. Interacting with humans made him appreciate every passing moment, and cherish every meeting, because when he saw them again, they could be unrecognizable or dead from old age. Their short lives kept him anchored in the now, making him pay attention and keep track of time. But the more of the mortals he knew passed away, the more detached he felt.
He feared losing himself in the forge, only to wake up to naught but dust and bones a century later.
"You're making that face again, Avel."
He sighed and turned to a beautiful woman busy embroidering a colorful dress. She looked like a human with vivid blue eyes and flowing blonde hair, but her long pointed ears and translucent dragonfly-like wings showed she was an Aelf. A fairy with a 'human' trait.
Seeing his friend visibly older than he last met her only made his lips curl down more.
"I'm not, Tile."
"I must be seeing things then. Clearly, you aren't sad a certain human died recently. A human wielding a 'fairy sword' he received from a 'red fairy of the forge'. I suppose hundreds of fairies fit that description and Dienu lied it was you. That sulking face must be your normal expression."
Shirou turned away and puffed up his cheeks. His friends were ganging up on him!
"I'm not sulking! You aren't even looking my way!"
Even while facing away, he could still hear Tile sigh and put down her needles.
"Honestly, you are becoming more like Dienu with each passing decade. I thought that out of the two of you, you were the more mature one, but now I see you're both equally childish. Now stop acting like my daughter and tell me why it's bothering you so much. From what I've heard, you only knew him for a few days."
Before he could respond, the aforementioned daughter perked up from the corner she was playing with and trotted up to the red-haired fairy, lifting her hands and flapping her little wings.
"Uncle Avel. Up! Up!"
No match for such a devastating display of cuteness, Shirou's frown melted away, unable to withstand the innocent gaze of those dazzling blue eyes.
Despite being thirty years old, the Aelf child looked more like a two-year-old human. She didn't have a name, as it was an Aelf custom to name their children only after they were fifty. Aelfs could have children with both humans and other Aelfs, but an Aelf would always create another Aelf, no matter who the other parent was. This was Shirou's second meeting with Tile's daughter, but even when he met her for the first time ten years ago, he didn't see her father.
Maybe his friend didn't want her daughter to see her father waste away before her eyes, so she never took him to this village. Whatever the case, it was none of Shirou's business.
He picked the cute girl up and sat her on his lap and Projected a figurine of a knight for her to play with.
He glanced at Tile's, feeling her expectant gaze, and sighed. It was hard to put his feeling into words sometimes.
"It's not his death that's bothering me. I knew he would die rather sooner than later. It's just… I feel like it's my fault, you know."
"Your fault?" Tile tilted her head in confusion. "Wasn't he on death's door when you met him? If not for you, nobody would even know his name, nor would he leave his mark on history. I heard humans tell his story, even in our secluded village."
"… if I didn't give him that sword, he would stop at saving his village and live a peaceful life."
"Really, Avel? I'm not that knowledgeable about heroes, but even I know that's unlikely. Besides, wasn't he quite old already?"
He was, by the standards of the times. Cador died at fifty-one, an 'elderly' age for a human. It's not like no humans lived for longer. Some had supernatural traits that gifted them a longer lifespan, but even a 'regular' human could live to a hundred if he was lucky. It's just that in the current period, it was hard to avoid disease or injury for so long. With no advanced medicine and healthcare, old injuries piled up until simple flu or fall killed you. Especially in the case of warriors.
It truly didn't bother him that Cador died. That was inevitable, and while it saddened Shirou, he knew it would happen one day. No, the problem was that he didn't think about the man until he learned about his death. Fifteen years passed in a blink of an eye, and Cador was dead, the story of his 'heroic' last stand was the first he heard of him since he sent him off.
Just like he told him when he gave him that sword.
Was it a coincidence, or some twisted joke of the World? He didn't want to think so, but it just wouldn't leave his mind. The death of a single human hit him harder than usual, irrational guilt clawing at his heart.
As if sensing his mood, the little Aelf child hopped off his lap and left to play in the corner, leaving him alone again.
Shirou spent the rest of the day reminiscing, watching the Aelf child play with her mother. Definitely not sulking. It wasn't until the evening that something drew him out of his funk.
Something he wished would never happen.
One of the records in Eternal Forge broke. That alone wasn't unusual. Many of his weapons were out there, in the hands of humans and fairies, and when something happened to them, his records reflected that change. But this one was different.
With trembling hands, he pulled out a miniature spear. Nothing more than a small red stick, a replica of a much larger one his student wielded. It looked undamaged, but his Eyes saw the crack that circled the haft in the middle. It was something he told her to break in half to signal she needed his help. But…
… only if she was in mortal danger.
He stared at the little weapon with wide eyes, trying to deny what they showed him, to dispel this illusion. But it was useless. Even when the world faded into monochrome as he focused on the small weapon, it remained unchanged. A vivid red line on his palm, like freshly spilled blood, a clear break in the middle.
He couldn't escape the truth.
"… no."
He didn't remember how he left Tile's village.
By the time his thoughts returned to a somewhat orderly fashion, he was halfway to Skye. His body burned with golden light, filled to capacity with magical energy and Reinforcement, yet he didn't stop trying to cram in more, the runoff creating a tail of glowing particles behind him. Every second counted, and he wasn't so fragile to break from something like that. He was a fairy, a spirit of nature, and for all he still had his human body, it was just a shell to anchor his soul.
He ran in a straight line to Scathach, cutting through forests, lakes, and human settlements without care, although at his speed all they would see was a brief golden streak. Tile's home wasn't that far from his student's isle, but he still gritted his teeth in frustration.
He was so slow!
Once again he wasn't there when she needed him. It was irrational, and he knew she didn't want him to hover over her shoulder at all times, but right now it seemed like he should've had. They already had that conversation, and Shirou accepted he couldn't always cling to her shadow, but still…
It didn't take more than a few minutes before he arrived on the shores of Skye, leaping over the cliffs and rushing further inland. The closer he got to Scathach's castle, the heavier the ball of worry and fear in his stomach became.
Skye was struggling for a long time now, ever since his student's last war with Aife. She told him it was a quick and easy war, that Cu took care of her sister and ended the conflict before it could begin in earnest. But it seemed like that brief war was the last nail to Skye's coffin. Despite suffering few casualties, the population of Skye kept decreasing faster than ever. She always reassured him that nothing was wrong, that it was just a momentary stagnation, yet each time he visited, the shadows of Skye grew thicker, and Scathach's aura dimmer.
She was ninety years old by now but looked no older than thirty, and many feared what they didn't understand. Even her own subjects whispered she wasn't human anymore, that death itself feared to take her life.
On his way here, he saw an aura of unease hanging over the entire island, weary humans looking to the north, others running away. Now, when he stood before Scathach's castle, he knew Skye would never be the same.
He could barely make out his student's home, shrouded in the dense, dark shadows that clung to the hill. It was as if night fell over the castle and only the castle. Shirou frantically searched the entire structure but found no trace of Scathach. There was no one here. The servants and soldiers either fled or something worse happened to them. His breath left him in quick gasps as he double-checked every room.
She wasn't here. She wasn't here!
With icy fingers of panic clawing at his thoughts, he expanded his senses, trying to find her magical signature. He pushed through the shadows, ignoring how they devoured his magical energy, and finally found a faint trace. He followed it, finding himself before the castle gates. Shadows seemed thicker here, almost like black oil. They crawled up his legs, seeping below his clothes.
Shirou paid them no mind. He needed to reach Scathach.
His Perspective shifted, and shadows fled. Instead, ethereal wisps of smoke filled the area, rising from the ground and coiling around the large steel gates. In the middle, where two wings of the gates met, a narrow seam in space floated. A fissure in reality, an after-echo of a forced passage.
He could smell Scathach's scent from beyond.
Whatever spirited her away used the gates to cross between worlds. And so Shirou did the same. He dug his fingers into the gap, slamming the weight of his existence against it. His magical energy spread across the castle grounds, filling the air with countless golden motes of light, chasing away the darkness. He focused on the gates, on the concepts that made them what they were. A divide. An opening between two places, between the inside and the outside. A passage in the walls that separated. The castle of Skye was old. Old enough that it possessed a mystery of its own, and Shirou used that mystery to force the lingering gap open again. After all, the gates that have been opened once can be opened again.
With a screech of tortured reality, the gap widened, until it was big enough to let the fairy pass. An oval cutout in space, filled with impenetrable shadows. He leaped inside, uncaring of whatever may lie on the other side. All that mattered was getting to Scathach.
For a second he floated in absolute darkness, then his feet hit the ground and he found himself on an endless plain of dark soil covered with a scattering of bones. A gray haze filled the space, obscuring the horizon and blending with the featureless sky, but Shirou barely noticed the strange surroundings. His eyes focused on the form of his student not far away.
He found her, but… something was wrong.
She had her back turned to him, standing motionless like a statue, staring away at the indistinct horizon. She appeared uninjured, but the feeling of wrongness was so strong that it crushed his elation at finding her before he could act on it. He couldn't see her aura. His breath caught as he stared at her back, dreading breaking the silence. He wanted to call out to her, to take her hand and leave this dreary place, but was sure this illusion of a happy ending would break the moment he made his move.
Time seemed to stretch, a single second stretching on forever, before Shirou's posture shifted slightly, his foot sliding on the soft ground a fraction of an inch as the soil sank under his weight.
But that was enough.
That almost unperceivable sound was louder than thunder in this land of absolute silence, and Scathach's head snapped his way, red eyes staring from beneath a dark veil, pinning the fairy in place.
A glimmer of hope ignited in Shirou's heart at the sight of her face. Maybe he was just paranoid. He tried to push a smile onto his face.
"Scath-"
He didn't even get a single word out before the tip of a crimson spear rushed at his eye.
He leaned away from Scathach's lunge, barely avoiding having his skull pierced. That wasn't just an angry Scathach. That first strike was a death blow. If he didn't dodge, she would've killed him. A short sword manifested in his hand immediately after, deflecting the following attacks. A quick exchange of blows later, Shirou tried to reason with her again.
"Scathach, stop! Please!"
But no matter how much he pleaded, she wouldn't.
Strike after strike, his student's speed increased, slowly overwhelming her teacher. He always knew she surpassed him in pure weapon skills, but they never fought for real and there was only so far you could go in a spar. Now he was getting pushed back. Her attacks methodically dismantled his defense, cutting his guard open. Each of Scathach's moves was perfect, distilled into an absolute minimum of movement, backed by decades of experience. She had an answer to every block and parry; her spear was always in the ideal position to take advantage of his openings.
Soon, small cuts started to appear on Shirou's body.
He was reluctant to attack her back or use his magic, but at this rate, it was inevitable. Her next swipe met not his short sword, but a large edge of Midjinior, the blade popping into existence in a puff of golden-red flames.
Yet it wasn't so easy.
Somehow, Scathach's crimson spear skidded across the large sword's edge and continued on its way, cutting into Shirou's shoulder.
Grimacing, he summoned more weapons to hamper her and focused on his Sight once more. There had to be something that made her act like this. Her aura was obscured, but there was nothing that could hide from his Sight, even if it wasn't always immediately obvious. Her face was expressionless behind the veil, locked in a placid mask of indifference even as she tried her best to kill him. Initially, Shirou thought this veil was the culprit, yet there was no magical energy in it at all. But as he looked deeper, he spotted wispy shadows clinging to the fabric, barely noticeable on the dark cloth. It may not be the source of this enchantment, but it was clearly related.
With this new knowledge, Shirou concentrated on his Eternal Forge. He needed to destroy this veil, and the flames of his Domain would be the easiest solution. He just needed to do it in such a way that wouldn't hurt Scathach.
But as if sensing his intentions, something revealed itself, a sudden voice surprising him and disrupting his focus.
"How pitiful."
Shirou's head snapped up toward a figure shrouded in shadows floating above the plain, within the range of his Domain and yet somehow avoiding his notice. A woman in a cloak of feathers that oozed darkness, her face half-hidden by a cloak's hood. He sensed no magical energy from her, yet her entrance brought a halt to the fighting, even Scathach's relentless assault stopping in the face of this being that demanded their attention with her presence alone.
"A commend you, little fairy. You found your way into this realm, your love guiding you to this desolate land. All for a single human." Her mouth twisted in a malicious smile. "All for nothing."
A primal part of Shirou's mind screamed to run away and hide, but he ignored it. This being, whatever she was, kidnapped Scathach and chained her will with its shadows. She needed to die. The only reason he didn't attack right away was his worry for his student. If he unleashed all his weapons and flames, Scathach could get hurt, by him or this being.
Still, he prepared to draw on his well of power as his eyes narrowed at the floating woman.
"What did you do to Scathach?"
She laughed at him; the sound carrying through this empty world, stirring the gray haze. She laughed with joy and hate, and even if he couldn't see her eyes, he could still feel her gaze—madness restrained by shadows.
It made his skin crawl.
"Ah, how truly wretched you are, Avel of Nibelung. I did nothing to her but collect what was owed. She made a pact, and no matter how much you've meddled, I will have my due."
"… so you are the one who gave Scathach her runes."
The woman's smile didn't wane, yet it carried a hint of bitterness now.
"Yes, those things. Toys of a half-blind fool searching for salvation, but… were they not what she needed? When her guardian was nowhere to be found, I offered her a fair deal. She accepted. So why are you interfering now?"
He tried recalling everything his student told him about the deal she made with this being. Scathach never told him much, but he was sure of at least one thing.
"Wasn't she supposed to come here only after she died? Aren't you the one who is interfering?"
The woman burst into laughter again. She clutched at her stomach, laughing so hard she doubled over, shaking in the air. And then she abruptly stopped, a disgusted expression replacing her mirth in an instant.
"… truly disgusting." She turned to Scathach. "Child, deal with this intruder. I won't suffer his presence for longer than I must."
Scathach, silent and motionless throughout the conversation, moved again, but she didn't charge at Shirou. Instead, she walked towards him slowly; her spear quivering in her hand as if her body fought with itself, her movements jerky like a marionette with too-taught strings. Shirou heart ignited with hope again and his face hardened with determination.
His student was still there—bound by shadows, but aware of what was happening. He just needed to deal with the woman.
Thousands of blades burst into existence around the cloaked being, a tide of fire following right after. Shirou didn't hold back, filling the space with iron and flames, aiming to kill the woman as fast as possible.
But it wouldn't be so simple, it seemed.
"Naïve!" the woman shouted, and his flames fizzled out, the weapons fading away as shadows pressed on the entire area, the sky growing darker. "You think I'll allow it, wretched fairy? In my own domain? Child, stop dawdling and do your job."
Whatever control Scathach had over her body disappeared, a slight quivering of her weapon was the only sign she was still there, and she lunged at him again. The dance of swords and a spear began anew, Shirou defending while trying to destroy her veil without harming his student. He tried to attack the floating woman again, but she somehow restricted the range of his Eternal Forge, the shadows pressing on his domain from every direction. She easily dodged or deflected the few weapons he fired at her from the ground.
Seeing that it could take a while, he focused on Scathach. She was the one more skilled with a spear, but with his Domain as a defense he could afford to concentrate on burning off her veil.
Wisps of golden-red flames flashed around her head, fiery tongues trying to destroy the fragile piece of cloth. It wasn't easy with Scathach jumping around, but slowly he was getting closer with each attempt. He could've simply bathed her in his flames, but the point was to not kill her. Getting burned by flames hot as the sun wasn't conducive to that goal.
Unfortunately, his task soon got more difficult.
Scathach took out five pebbles from a pouch on her belt and with a touch engraved a series of runes on them. The small stones created a floating formation around her, held in place by barely noticeable shadows. The stones lighted up with magical energy and an area ten feet across around Scathach became a void zone for Eternal Forge. His perception cut out, nor could he materialize his blades or flames.
Shirou grimaced. That… could be a problem.
He didn't have time to break the stones, because a few seconds later she was on him again, but this time he could barely defend himself. When she got close enough to attack him, the zone of nullification clipped off most of his Domain, leaving him with a single sword to defend himself. And it wasn't going well. He tried to create some distance, but Scathach seemed to have an endless amount of magical energy. Her body was reinforced with runes, and as the fight progressed, more and more energy flowed into the ancient letters, further increasing her speed and strength. Shirou, on the other hand, was slowly getting exhausted, his reserves of magical energy running low as mana in the air refused to enter his Fairy Patterns.
Grunting with frustration, Shirou dodged another of Scathach's blows, barely avoiding having his stomach impaled.
He glanced at the cruel thing floating above, at the shadows crushing Eternal Forge. It shouldn't be possible to even affect it, but this wasn't the human world, nor the Reverse Side of the World. This land was some kind of pocket world apart from the greater whole. A realm of shadows ruled by an insane woman whose will was law. It squeezed at his soul, constraining his Domain. Whatever she was doing, it wasn't magic as he understood it. It wasn't magecraft or sorcery, nor fairy magic.
Another wound opened at his side and Shirou had to summon a wave of flames behind him, hurling the conflagration at his student. He couldn't afford to play it safe anymore. Scathach dodged, dashing away, but it helped little.
The shadows pressing on him, the laughing woman watching the spectacle with glee, Scathach's relentless assault. It was getting too much. His head was spinning.
His Domain hurt.
He needed… he needed something… more.
He pulled on his well of power, calling on Eternal Forge. It was the core of his being, his soul given form. In the very center of it, deep inside his body, the sword he saw as the manifestation of his soul still existed. It was no longer a void in a shape of a sword surrounded by a nimbus of miniature golden weapons, but a finished blade on its own. An ever-shifting sword of gold and iron, always in flux, always in balance. Gold and iron flowed and mixed, but one never overwhelmed the other.
Now Shirou leaned on the gold. He reached into the core of his being, searching for the truth that underlaid his existence since he arrived in Avalon.
His connection to the World.
He was a spirit of nature, a fairy of Faery, a part of the World itself. His metaphorical hands sank into the gold, trying to find that connection. It was there, somewhere. He was sure. He was certain of it as he was certain he was born a human.
Then he found it. A fragile string of power, a line of infinite size, branching into innumerable filaments of his Fairy Patterns. He grasped at it and pulled. Gold slowly grew as a torrent of mana channeled directly into his soul, breaching through dimensions.
Shirou inhaled sharply, feeling like he could breathe freely for the first time in his life. His eyes, the familiar luminescent gold, turned silver like a perfectly polished blade. Eternal Forge expanded again, fighting against the shadow's pressure and Scathach's magecraft. Magical energy surged from within, filling his reserves in seconds before spilling out. The surrounding ground slowly transmuted into silver swords, the blades growing out of the very soil and scattered bones. He brought a piece of Faery into this world—a piece of the realm of the fairies filtered through his soul. It eroded this land, the very fabric of reality turning into an extension of Faery.
"You!" the floating woman screamed. "You dare to taint my home!? Insolent wretch! I will show you what it means to anger a god. And you, child! What do you think you are doing? Stop playing around and try to kill him already."
Scathach took a low stance, the tip of her spear still shaking slightly. Magical energy gathered around her, the crimson weapon blazing with red lightning. A familiar attack. Something she showed him before. Something that was almost impossible to defend against.
His student threw the spear, the weapon splitting the air with a shriek of magical energy, but Shirou didn't panic. The same spear appeared in his hand, the record of the one flying at him, and he used it in the same manner. The entire sequence, from Scathach releasing her spear, to him taking out his and charging it, didn't take more than a second. He knew where the spear aimed, so he mirrored its target, thrusting the weapon at his student's heart.
Two spear tips met and fate-defying attacks nullified each other in a shower of sparks, the weapons spinning away.
He tried to store Scathach's spear, but a series of runes flashed on its haft and it flew back to its owner's hand. Shirou sighed. Well, that would've been too easy.
"Useless!"
The floating god didn't seem pleased. She looked down at him and shadows gathered around her.
Now that he could keep Scathach at bay again, he needed to focus on the woman. Destroying his student's veil would take too long and he didn't want to find out what this insane woman still had in store.
He took a step, and silver followed, spreading across the ground. More blades for him to use.
He pulled out hundreds of weapons, firing them at the cloaked woman, but she easily dodged them, twirling in the air with supernatural grace. He had to bring her down somehow.
Eternal Forge slowly fought against the pressure of this realm, but its range was still limited. He prepared to jump, but Scathach was on him again, locking him in place. The silver blades slowed her down a little, but she was too good of a warrior to lose her footing so easily.
The supposed god also made its move.
The gray haze that filled this world darkened, shadowy figures flickering in the distance. Soon, vaguely humanoid wraiths emerged from the indistinct mist, running across the flat land. Hungry ghosts with glowing blue eyes and pitch-black talons.
They filled the horizon by the tens of thousands.
"… shit."
Shirou muttered a curse and manifested more blades, firing them at the approaching shades. They were rather fragile, dispersing after a single blow, but he noticed their numbers weren't decreasing, the ones he destroyed simply reformed again after a few seconds. And they were getting closer.
Despite his Domain regaining some of its range and power, it was slowly becoming too much. Defending against Scathach, sniping at the floating woman, and now keeping the horde of wraiths away. The last bit was the most concerning factor. So far, he was able to hold them at the border of Eternal Forge, but his flames weren't doing much, only physical impacts seemed to damage them.
And Shirou was slowly running out of weapons.
They weren't being destroyed, but he couldn't retrieve those that flew outside the range of his Domain, which was most of the ones keeping the shades away. Thousands of weapons littered the dark plain, and he still had thousands more available, but he wasn't any closer to dealing with the cloaked woman than when he first arrived here. If this continued, he would have to rely on Tracing instead of simply taking the weapons out.
He gritted his teeth in frustration, glaring at the laughing being. The shaking spear of his student tried to gouge his eyes out again, forcing him to call on his flames and blades, pushing her away. He risked getting her injured to create some space, then poured more magical energy into his Reinforcement and jumped.
His leap took him all the way to the woman, but he was slower than the weapons he fired, so she easily avoided him, moving just enough to be out of range of his sword, as if taunting him. Still, that was good enough. As he passed her, hundreds of swords and spears materialized all around her, a blade for every inch of her body. It wasn't enough. A band of shadows surrounded her in an instant, sucking in every weapon and spitting them out in opposite directions. Yet Shirou didn't give up. At the same moment he attacked her with his Eternal Forge, a gigantic sword materialized under his feet, acting as a foothold. He pushed off it, reversing his direction and flying at the woman's back. She whirled around, her mouth open in surprise as his sword pierced her chest. For a second, they were inches apart, silver eyes glaring at a shadowed hood as his sword sank into her heart, the edge easily piercing her flesh.
Too easily.
His blade passed through her body as if she was made of smoke, shadows trailing behind the edge, and her surprised expression morphed into a mocking smile.
"Ha! As if your wretched self could accomplish anything!" She raised her hand and the sky thickened with darkness. "Hunter of the Plains, devour his bones!"
Inky shadows coalesced behind the woman, gathering from the dark sky, and spun into a silhouette of a giant bear. The beast stood fifty feet tall, its hind legs touching the ground even as its head towered above the floating woman. The shadows that made up its bulk shifted into yellowed bone and orbs of icy flames ignited in its eye sockets. It roared and slammed one paw into the falling fairy.
He shielded himself with a wall of summoned weapons, but the beast's limb barely slowed down; the force behind its bone paw plowed through the barricade with a crunch of breaking steel and hit Shirou like a giant hammer.
He hit the earth like a meteor, creating a small crater and coughing up blood. Yet he didn't have time to recover. The colossal bear continued its assault, its bone forelimb falling on the downed fairy. Shirou stumbled away with a groan, feeling his ribs flare with pain. Each breath was painful, but he moved anyway.
It was that or death.
The tide of wraiths was almost upon him. He needed more space, he thought idly, feeling strangely detached. Sounds of the battle dulled, each of his actions felt mechanical, perfect in timing yet occurring seemingly without his input.
His head pounded from repeated hits and mental exhaustion, but he pulled on his connection with Faery anyway, drawing in more mana. Silver spread from him, bleaching the world of death and shadows, the ground sprouting more blades. Blades made through his soul. Blades that he could feel with Eternal Forge. He pulled on them with his Domain, ripping the silver straight out of the earth and sending a wave of silver swords at the shades. It worked better than he expected, the inherent mana of Faery corroding the wraith's ghostly forms, preventing them from reforming so easily.
He exhaled. At least, some progress.
But when one problem was solved, another reappeared. From the corner of his eye, he saw his student charging. She ran by the beast's paw, the tip of her spear trailed sparks as it skid on the bone. At least the colossal monster stopped its assault, reluctant to hit Scathach. Probably. Or maybe it thought it didn't need to bother.
Still, Shirou engaged her again, but her runes still prevented him from burning off her veil, even if he could manifest his weapons, albeit with difficulty. They fought right next to the bear. He glanced up, but the woman was content to just watch, it seemed. Then he got kicked in the side for taking his eyes off Scathach. The powerful kick drove the air from his lungs and sent him flying until his back hit the bone paw. His head was ringing, but he didn't dare stop else his student or the bear killed him.
Yet something caught his attention. A charred line on the bear's paw.
His eyes widened, and he looked at his student. She stood a short distance away, not attacking even as her body clearly tried to, her spear shaking as her body spasmed.
He lunged at her, a spear in hand, and the deadly dance began anew. Fire and steel filled the air, silver and iron holding the wraiths away while he wracked his brain for a solution.
The ghosts were dealt with for now, and the bear wasn't much of a problem. Its immense size made it powerful, but slow. Easy to dodge. Scathach clearly retained some control, so she wasn't as much of a problem in the long term as he expected. That left only the woman. He needed to bring her down somehow.
For all she proclaimed herself a god, she wasn't that skilled or strong herself, content to let her minions kill him. Her shadows were versatile, but not omnipotent. His silver seemed to work well against them. He just needed to reach her and deal with her intangible form.
And he had just the thing.
He reached for a certain sword in his Domain. A weapon to bind a piece of the world into physical form. It would serve as a foundation for something else. After all, this woman wasn't made of blood, but of shadows and death. He wasn't that familiar with the concepts, but it would have to be enough.
He fell into a rhythm, allowing himself a bit of time to forge. A ball of brilliant flames appeared in his grip as he worked on the new weapon. He continued to dodge an occasional swipe of a giant paw, all the while sending more silver blades at the incoming wraiths and fighting with Scathach.
Still, he needed to reach the floating woman somehow.
He pulled more on his connection with the World, accelerating the spread of silver blades. A vague sense of stretching emanated from the depths of his soul, filling him with unease, but he couldn't allow himself to stop.
He steeled his nerves when a deep thud resounded from the newly created weapon. It was ready.
It was now or never.
A ring of golden-red flames appeared around him, rapidly expanding and pushing Scathach away, the flat land turning into a sea of fire. He then jumped onto the bear, a barrage of weapons drilling into its head as a distraction. The woman didn't fly away even when he reached the beast's back, close enough for Eternal Forge to encompass her. She just laughed again.
Four giant swords pinned the bear's legs in place, Traced copies of the one he used as springboard earlier. With the beast immobilized, Shirou did something he did away with long ago.
He chanted an aria. A spell not for his magecraft, but for his soul.
"I summon the flames of Nibelung; let the gates to Eternal Forge open."
And the sky caught fire.
A circular portal covered the heavens, hundreds of feet across. Beyond it, a boiling sea of golden-red flames and iron writhed with power—a world of infinite depth. Shirou bared his soul to the world, and even the shadows couldn't deny him. The flames on the ground disappeared together with the silver blades growing out of the ground only to appear high above, falling out of the flaming sky like a rain of mercury.
The woman never stopped laughing. Even when silver swords cut into her form by the hundreds, taking chunks of her shadowy body. She just stared up, her mad laugh carrying over the rumble of flames and falling steel as her shields of black shadows broke again and again. But if his blades were doing any damage, it didn't show at all.
It didn't matter. That attack was just a distraction.
He jumped off the bear's back; the force crashing the beast into the ground. The newly forged blade flashed into his grip—a black single-edged sword trailing shadows—and less than a second later it hit the woman's side, sliding between her ribs.
Blood and severed feathers fluttered in the air.
"Got you," Shirou said, his voice exhausted.
She turned to face him, lips parted in surprise as if she forgot he existed, then a vicious smile twisted her mouth as a band of shadows surrounded them, cutting off Shirou's Domain.
"Still not enough, wretched fairy."
"It will be."
He grappled her, one hand keeping the sword forcing her into physical form in place. Fairy magic flared around them, not to harm her, but to increase his weight, and they fell to the ground, the woman struggling to break free on the way down.
Shadows crawled over his form and bit into his flesh, but Shirou held on, determined to finish this, and they soon hit the ground next to the still immobilized bear, the impact rattling his bones as they rolled on the flat plain. His sword cut through her body, gouging her flesh, but the cut healed almost as fast as it opened. They ended in a standoff, Shirou's sword still buried in her chest and her binding him with shadows.
Her proximity held back Eternal Forge, but he did alike for most of her powers. The silver of Faery was still spreading around him, suppressing the shadows and keeping the wraiths away.
"And now what? Your magic is sealed. Your blades cannot reach me, your flames less than worthless. You managed to bring me down, an impressive feat for an animal lashing out in anger, but how long will it take my minions to finish you? Or was this all your feeble mind wished for? A useless gesture, a show of defiance. Meaningless. In the end you accomplished nothing, Avel of Nibelung."
Shirou listened to her tirade but he barely heard her. He was filled to bursting with magical energy, mana of Faery pouring into him in an endless stream, but his mind was sluggish. Exhausted. He didn't know how much time passed since the battle started, but it felt like hours. Hours of non-stop fighting at full capacity. He was wrung out.
He noticed a glint of red in the distance.
"I did enough." He said.
"… huh?"
Her chest exploded in viscera, the tip of a crimson spear skewering the woman's heart with a crackle of demonic energy.
She stared dumbly at the protruding weapon before turning her head.
"… child?"
The second spear lopped off her head, sending it tumbling away.
Scathach stood there, a ring of densely written runes surrounding her in a ring of burning script, searing away the shadows. Throughout the fight, her spear was always shaking, and at first he thought it was because she struggled against the enchantment that controlled her body. And she was, in a sense. It wasn't until she left a message on the bear's paw that he realized she was secretly writing runes in the air. He should've realized it earlier. He saw it before, after all.
He couldn't help but smile at her. He was proud of how far she has gotten. Not even gods could chain her for long anymore.
"Teacher!" She dropped her spears and tackled him in a hug. "I-I'm so sorry! I didn't…"
"It's fine, Scathach. I know."
He tried to reassure her, but his student kept on apologizing. For what, he had no idea. It wasn't like she attacked him of her own volition.
At least it was over now.
With the woman's demise, the colossal bone bear stopped moving and started crumbling away. So were the wraiths, their shadowy forms dissipating into wisps of black smoke one by one. Even the omnipresent haze of gray lost its oppressive aura.
He was about to look for an exit when a sudden laugh startled him.
A laugh he grew familiar with during the fight.
"How disgusting." A decapitated head of the woman said, her voice laced with venom. "A wretched fairy spreading his own suffering with a smile, choosing to blind himself to the truth."
Shirou glared at the dying being, ready to blast it into oblivion.
"… shut up, thing."
"So you won't tell her, after all? Well, it's not like I expected anything of you, but you still continue to reach new levels of disappointment."
He knew what she was hinting at, but this wasn't the place or time to talk about it with Scathach. The woman was just trying to hurt him as much as she could in her last moment, to drive a wedge between him and his student. He wouldn't allow her.
He glanced at Scathach, seeing confusion and fear in her aura.
"Teacher? What is she talking about?"
"I don't kn-"
His eyes widened as the words died on his tongue.
The woman laughed again, although with less energy, her head slowly turning into motes of darkness.
"You dare try to lie now, Avel of Nibelung? Here? You dragged a piece of your realm into my home, now suffer its laws. Child, do you think I brought you here without reason? No. You were always meant to spend your eternity in this Land of Shadows. That was the deal we made. You would die and become one of my shades, resting away in peaceful oblivion. If not for him." She threw a glare at the silver-eyed fairy. "A thing that was once man and his blessing. Come on, tell her what it does. Or do you not even know yourself, wretched fairy?"
"…"
"… truly disgusting. The one you call your teacher, child, was born a human like yourself. By means hidden from my eyes, he became a spirit of nature, an extension of the World itself. And that is what the core of the being known as Avel is. A mortal turned immortal. A weapon of humanity turned the will of nature. A thing that should not be!"
Surprise colored Scathach's aura, but only slightly. The revelation that he has once been a human didn't shock her that much. In the end, it was simply a minor detail of his past. Still, Shirou grimaced. That wasn't the important part.
"… and why does it matter? It doesn't change who Teacher is. I knew his blessing prolonged my life, if that's what you are trying to say. I knew for a long time."
"It matters, child, because his blessing didn't just prolong your life. It kept changing you on a fundamental level. My shadows were supposed to use you as a gate to cross into my realm, but his blessing prevented them from doing so. They needed a mortal as an anchor, someone with a connection to the human world, but with a fate that inevitably led to death. You were perfect. A warrior queen to act as a beacon, your soul screaming into the world louder than any other, your fame beckoning the deceased. But now, it's no longer the case, Scathach of Skye. You are a human turned immortal. Not like a fairy, and not like a god, but something else entirely. I pity you, for his blessing brought ruin to your kingdom, the ghosts stuck in the mortal world slowly driving your people away. He stole your afterlife and made you usurp death itself, so you will watch as everything you worked for in your life crumbles away while millennia gnaw on your mind. Forever locked away in this empty prison. The lonely Queen of the Land of Shadows, sentenced to the eternity of isolation by the one who loved you the most. You truly are… most cruel… of all… Avel… of…"
Silence reigned after the woman's head finally faded away.
He didn't dare look Scathach in the eyes, afraid of what he would see there. But it was in vain. There was no one else in this entire land, so her aura filled the world, finding its way to his Eyes anyway. He could see fear and pain, love and hurt. Longing and sorrow. A turbulent mix of emotions that could mean a myriad of things, but his exhausted mind spiraled down to the worst conclusions.
"… is it true, Teacher?"
"I…"
The world spined as Shirou tried to come up with an answer, but he could utter no lies. He could tell her excuses, that he didn't want it, that he had no choice, but those were empty words.
"I… didn't want it for you, Scathach. This burden."
She will hate you. If not now, then in a thousand years.
He couldn't breathe.
"Teacher, I… I don't… hate you."
Not yet.
He knew she was telling the truth, but it hurt even more.
"I…"
"Please. Don't… go. Forget what she said. We will figure something out."
You can release her. A single sword will do. It will be painless.
He clutched at his chest, taking a step back. Silver followed him.
He dared to look at her again, and it broke his heart. She was on the verge of tears, her expression pleading. Her aura burned his Eyes, bright and beautiful. Always beautiful.
It's all your fault.
She still loved him, still trusted him, even after all this.
It was too much.
He took another step and left the world of shadows, standing once again before the gates of Skye. He left her behind.
Coward.
In the deepest part of his soul, the ever-shifting sword of gold and iron glowed like the sun as an unstoppable current of mana poured in from Faery. It wouldn't stop. Gold took over more and more until the last remains of iron sank underneath it. Shirou's silver eyes broke, splintering like a shattered mirror, spilling mercurial tears and washing away all colors.
A silver fairy looked at the sky, smiling with careless relief, its human heart sealed deep, away from all the pain.
By the time Scathach managed to leave the Land of Shadows, the silver fairy was already gone.
Zedman7054
Eternally 3rd
- Location
- United States
And so Shirou finally broke.
Arimai
Curmudgeon
Seen this a few times. The body is Fae it's is the soul that is human. But you suddenly changed it this last chapter.
Every instance of this should be replaced with a form of alight, alit, aglow, lit, shining, and so on.
How did Cador the legendary Duke of Cornwall and Cousin of King Arthur get to Shirou's house deep in prehistoric Japan?
EDIT 04/05/2023: I apologize, I just noticed the two typos the damn autocorrect used.
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His soul is still 'human', although now his fairy nature is a part of it (as of chapter 9). In this chapter, his 'human body' refers to his shape. He was noted to be unusual for looking almost perfectly human despite most fairies having some kind of obvious inhuman features. Even Aelfs, the most 'human-like' fairies, have wings that mark them as fairies. So he basically says 'I still have my body from when I was twelve.'
Shirou's house is in Scotland, he built it after he returned from Japan.
This Cador is an OC, but in this AU he is the ancestor of the future Duke of Cornwall. The 'story' of this Cador that was mentioned in the first part of the chapter was about him going around leading a rebellion against the Lord that enslaved his village and then more. This Cador will be known as a legendary/mythical hero to the people of Arthurian times (it is more than 600 years till then, after all). A kind of proto-Arthur that the future Duke of Cornwall will be named after as the future Duke's family will claim he is their ancestor, and the name will be passed down through generations as a form of good luck/good fortune blessing.
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Arimai
Curmudgeon
Ahh. I would have thought he would want to cement a claim on the nascent Power under the holy mountain. There is currently no Yama no Kami there. Shirou could claim it as his Place of Power. The closest he can get to Avalon in the human world.
Chapter 14 - Wanderer 4
Chapter 14 – Wanderer 4
Avalon was where the World's spirit divided itself, creating new fae, where the core of the World was closest to the surface, spilling its lifeblood in amounts that would kill a human in seconds.
But for all it was supposed to be a place of pure nature, there was something seemingly artificial near the edge of one lake. A ring of stones stacked atop each other, higher on one side. A crudely made wall, or maybe a begging of a tower. Unfinished construction of old, because even if the stones were still pristine white, the weight of millennia radiating off them was almost a physical feeling. Still, it was out of place. There were no fairies living in Avalon despite it being their birthplace, so this structure couldn't be the home of one.
Yet there was someone there.
A small silver fairy slept curled on a stone slab. Its skin gleamed like polished steel, golden flowing patterns adorning its limbs and cheeks. A long tail curled around it, smooth and ending with a sharp tip. It wore no clothes, but you couldn't tell if it was male or female by its androgynous form. On its head, above its pointy ears, strange protrusions extended down its body's length. Like two naked blades, straight and rigid, yet clearly a part of the fairy's body.
The fairy wasn't the only interesting thing there. On the slab it slept on, another object rested, held closely in the fairy's arms. A gold and blue sword in a similarly colored sheath. A weapon that very presence seemed to warp the mana in the air, the currents of magical energy curling around the blade, flowing through the sheath as if it didn't exist.
Time seemed to have no hold on the pair, the fairy with the sword hidden from the world, sleeping eternally in tranquil silence.
But one day, the fairy's face scrunched in a grimace and its eyelids fluttered open, glowing silver eyes reluctantly peering at the bright blue sky. It could feel something approaching, the mana of Avalon shuddering minutely.
Avel yawned, rubbing at his eyes, one hand still holding the beautiful sword to his chest. He looked around, noticing the change in the World, but didn't move. Whoever was coming wasn't his enemy. Avalon would warn him if it was. Still, it was annoying to be woken up like this. If whoever is visiting him doesn't have a good reason, he will give them a piece of his mind!
He didn't have to wait long for the intruder to appear.
A blue fairy floated down a hill. She appeared to be the same type of fae as Avel. A humanoid with animalistic traits, in her case, rabbit-like legs and a long lizard-like tail. In fact, she could pass as his sister, only different in coloration. She even had the same features on her head, long folded back rabbit-like ears, different from his sword-like appendages, but in the same place.
Avel's face lit up, a cheerful smile stretching his lips, showing off his sharp triangular teeth. His friend visited him! He didn't see her in quite some time. He almost thought she forgot about him by now.
"Blue!"
For some reason, she didn't appear particularly happy.
"… Red."
He left the pretty sword on the slab and floated up to her.
"What's wrong?" He asked, tilting his head. "You are unusually grumpy? Did Bihev act like an asshole again? Heh, say one word and I will stab him for you."
Her frown didn't disappear. It probably wasn't Bihev, then. Maybe Vivian? As good as Blue was at making friends, she could sometimes irritate them just as easily.
"How long are you going to hide here?"
His smile slipped a little at the sudden question. Why was she asking him this? It was barely a few decades since he secluded himself in Avalon. Surely it wasn't enough to worry her.
"Hiding? I'm just resting. You know, sleeping. For fun. You should try that sometimes, Blue. Maybe that's why you are in such a bad mood. Lack of proper sleep can stunt your growth, I've heard." He said, nodding sagely. "Anyway, did you know about this sword? It's super interesting!"
The gold and blue weapon was amazing, in Avel's opinion. A work of a master smith beyond even his skills, and infused with the will of the planet itself. A blade of unparallel beauty and power, a piece of the World forged into physical shape.
"Stop trying to change the subject, Red."
Silence filled the space between the two fairies for a few long moments. Avel's smile didn't slip, but it was more forced now, straining at the edges. He turned to his friend again, noticing her angry expression. He didn't like seeing her like this. Especially not when her anger was aimed at him.
"Shouldn't it be 'Silver' now?"
After all, there was nothing red about him anymore. His hair was as silver as the rest of him.
But Blue only grew angrier at that question.
"Stop it! Stop… acting like this. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."
He flinched, grabbing at his chest. It hurt for some reason. A hollow sting deep inside him. He averted his eyes, his smile turning into something ugly.
"… and why should I leave? I want to sleep here, so I do. I'm a fairy, Blue, just like you, so why are you asking me to do something I don't want to?"
"So you're gonna run away? Forever? Do you think she won't find you here?"
An image of purple hair and red eyes flashed before his eyes, accompanied by a wave of longing and regret, but he pushed it away. He did enough for her. For good and for bad alike. He just wanted to sleep here, in his home of Avalon. Was it really so wrong?
"Why would she search for me? She has her kingdom to see to, her people to lead. Besides, I did what I could, and it didn't work in the end. She is better off without me."
"… you will regret it, Red. She's my friend too, you know? I was there when you first met her, and even if I didn't spend as much time with her as you did, I still know her well. She won't stop. Not until she finds you. You may bury your heart under a mountain of swords, but you should know it's not that easy."
The hollow pain in his chest returned, stronger than before, but he crushed it again. That pain was weakness. Doubt and suffering. He was better off without it.
"So? She is just a human in the end. She will fade away and I won't have to worry about her anymore. I just… I just need to wait a while. Sleep here. Then I will wake up, and she'll be gone. It'll hurt a bit, but it'll be over."
"… I see it's useless to talk to you, Red."
He sighed in relief. At least she will give it up. He didn't want to argue with his friend over this. It was stupid and pointless, anyway.
"So I will beat some sense into you instead."
Blue nodded firmly and balled her hands into fists.
"Huh? B-Blue, aren't you a bit more forceful than usual? There's no need for violence over a single human."
"Oh, I think there is, Red. If you can't realize it on your own, then my fists will remind you."
Avel backed off until he hit the far wall of the stone circle as his friend advanced on him. Shit, was he really about to fight with his oldest friend? Over a single human? He couldn't remember a single time when they actually fought for real.
But before the blue fairy could pummel him into the ground, something else intruded on Avalon. A feeble string of magical energy. A weak thing, barely holding itself together after passing through the dimensions, yet it unerringly zeroed in on the silver fairy and touched him, extending an invitation. A deal. He could grasp it and it would take him away.
He didn't know who was attempting to summon him into the human world, but they already had his favor for rescuing him from this strange situation.
"Ah, it seems I'm being called on. Sorry, Blue, our duel will have to be postponed for now."
Blue lunged at him, and he quickly pumped the string of magic full of magical energy.
"Stop! Don't you dare take that summon!"
Unfortunately for the blue fairy, Avel disappeared before she could catch him, her hands passing through the space he occupied just a moment earlier.
It was common knowledge that a young girl shouldn't be outside alone at night. Not only because it was a stupid idea to throw yourself at the mercy of other, often drunk, people, but because humans weren't the only things that prowled the dark. Gods and fairies, monsters and beasts. Each one would happily devour a lost teenage girl.
And yet, here was Deitra, just fifteen and running for her life well into the midnight.
She clutched at her side as she made her way through the dark forest, the full moon mercifully illuminating the undergrowth. She cursed herself for being so dumb as to end up in this situation. That's what she got for lying and staying alone in her home, just to go to the village festival. Who knew wanting to flirt with some boys would be her death. She glanced behind her, searching for the things that pursued her. She saw nothing, but didn't stop anyway. Her eyes showed her naught but a wild forest, but her senses told her the truth.
A foul stench followed her.
It wasn't the gods, nor fairies or monsters, not even wild beasts that chased her, but rather the literal dead themselves. Corpses raised from their graves. Ghouls, rotting and falling apart, but forced onward by their master.
Deitra finally reached the forest edge, and the sight of her family mansion filled her heart with relief. She didn't get lost. She didn't know what she would do if she ended up in the middle of nowhere.
After stumbling through the mansion gates, she allowed herself to stop. She should be safe now. Well, safer. The rest of her family was away, and she suspected that whoever hunted her chose this night exactly because of that, but her home should allow her some measure of protection anyway.
She activated her magical circuits and reached to the bounded field surrounding the mansion, activating the magical defenses. A yellow bubble shimmered into existence around the entire property, just beyond the mansion's outer walls, before fading from sight. More hidden countermeasures turned on, defensive and offensive spells alike, woven into the stone foundations and walls by her grandfather. Their family may be small, but Grandfather Lonan was one of the most powerful magi in Ireland. If she was lucky, this should keep the ghouls away until her parents' return, or at least until sunrise.
She wasn't that lucky.
"Gods… damnit…"
Just an hour later, she panted with exhaustion after rising a wall of stone to block the passage deep inside the building, cutting away the tide of the dead. She wasn't sure if it was the mastermind behind them, or if they had some kind of trait that destroyed magecraft, but they tore through the barriers in minutes, even when dozens were turned to shreds by the offensive spells. She wasn't panicking, not yet, but it would be a lie to say she wasn't afraid.
Deitra wasn't a great magus for her age. Not bad, but not great. Just… average. It was fine with her. She didn't need to be the best one around, and her parents didn't expect her to be either. She was grateful for that. Her grandfather may still roam the land in search of fairies, but he didn't force his obsession on the rest of them. But now she kind of wished her family made her train more seriously. As great as it was to have so much freedom compared to the more traditional families of magi, it also meant she didn't have access to the more powerful spells and mystic codes.
She surveyed the room she found herself in. It was littered with various strange objects, seemingly without a single unifying theme. From pieces of wood and stone to finely crafted weapons and trinkets, all laid out on shelves and pedestals along the walls, leaving the central space open.
She sighed, "Great, it's Grandfather's storeroom."
Each item here was somehow connected to the fair folk. Her grandfather collected everything that was related to the elusive spirits of nature, always bringing back another strange object whenever he returned from his expeditions.
She was disappointed, because there was no other exit here. She was essentially trapped. On the plus side, this was the most protected room in the mansion, as befitting of her grandfather's 'treasury'. And there were some valuable items here. She normally wasn't allowed to even touch them, but she was sure her grandfather would not mind if he knew the situation she was in. Unfortunately, she wasn't that familiar with most of them. Fairy artifacts were notoriously difficult to work with, and she wasn't skilled or knowledgeable enough to make use of most of them. She walked around the spacious room, inspecting each one, but her stomach sank as she found nothing immediately useful. Oh, many items were powerful or expensive, she was sure, but none could help her fight off a horde of undead.
The muffled banging coming from beyond the sealed-off doors startled her, and a bead of sweat slid down the side of her face. She tried to push it down, but the fear she felt since this whole situation began kept gnawing at her. At this rate she won't last until sunrise. She combed through the storeroom once again, desperately trying to find anything useful. In the end, she decided to risk and take one of the swords. A short and mundane-looking blade, but better than nothing. She only hoped it wasn't cursed.
But when she took it from the pedestal it lay on, the weapon shimmered with gold and turned into a spherical red gem in a brief flare of flames. Deitra almost dropped it, but the fire didn't actually burn her and it happened so fast that it was over before she properly registered what was happening. She stared at the sword-turned-gem with a baffled expression. She wasn't sure what she expected from a fae sword, but it definitively wasn't this. What was she supposed to do with it now? She wanted a weapon, not a precious stone! She inspected it, but it didn't seem magical in any way. Just a large, perfectly round red gem with a spindle-shaped line in the middle, like a slit eye of a snake.
The banging on the doors reminded her she didn't have time to waste. She racked her brain in search of a solution to her predicament, but it seemed hopeless. Retreating to the mansion was supposed to grant her protection until her family saved her, but it turned out she only trapped herself. Her magecraft might let her escape, but she didn't have unlimited reserves of magical energy, and breaking through a mass of ghouls would require a lot. She reviewed each of the spells she knew, hypothesizing different combinations and approaches she could use them in.
Wait. What if…
She glanced at the space in the middle of the room. Like the rest of the mansion, it was made of stone. Her family attribute was 'Transition'. They could easily shift matter into different states, from solid to liquid to gas and back again. Combined with their element of Earth, a wide-scale manipulation of terrain was possible.
Deitra infused the floor with magical energy, trying to turn it into liquid and sink through to the floor below. But just when the stone started to ripple, a thaumaturgic circle flashed on its surface, freezing her magical energy in place.
"Great. Just fantastic. Grandfather's protective spells will be my doom."
She glared at the frozen stone in the shape of a magical circle. She had the worst luck today. But soon her frown melted away as another idea bloomed in her mind.
Ignoring the increasingly louder banging on the blocked off doors, she kneeled and carefully infused more energy into the floor, subtly changing the imprinted magical circle. Not her grandfather's spell itself, but the stone above. Thankfully, minute amounts of magical energy didn't trigger the defenses, and she quickly made the needed changes. She then cut her palm open, barely feeling the pain, and let her blood spill on the floor, the crimson liquid quickly filling the grooves and gaps.
She stood up and looked at her work with a nervous expression.
It was a summoning circle.
A mad last attempt at coming out of this alive. Mad, because it was the height of foolishness to cast out a blind summon like this. Normally, you would specifically target a being or place and prepare countermeasures for when whatever you summoned wasn't friendly. But Deitra didn't have time for that. She had to satisfy herself with just a simple containment field.
A loud bang behind her prompted her to go with her plan despite the risks. Placing the gem in the middle of the circle, she stepped back and infused most of her magical energy into the spell. She considered forgoing any catalysts, but honestly, she had to take every chance she could, and the gem was still a fairy artifact. It should target the spell at least a little.
The circle crackled with red energy as she kept on powering it, the spell greedily sucking more and more of her reserves until finally it lit with a blinding flash.
When her sight recovered, she spotted a silver fairy floating in the middle of the room. A humanoid creature with a long tail, strange sword-like ears, and skin like molten silver.
Deitra gulped. The summoning worked, but now she wasn't sure how to proceed. The fae were capricious beings, and interacting with them was often dangerous. Some were quite nice and helpful to humans, while others were… not. This fairy thankfully didn't look evil. At least she hoped it wasn't. Despite her grandfather's obsession with them, she never actually met the fair folk.
The fairy looked around the room curiously, a slight smile on his lips. When his eyes fell on her, she froze for a second, but forced herself to relax. She couldn't appear weak.
"H-Hello." She said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.
It took a few seconds to respond, all the while its smile slowly grew, until his cheerful expression showed off his sharp teeth. Very sharp teeth.
"Yes. Hello to you too, human. I answered your summons. Now, was there a particular reason you called for me specifically? It was quite unexpected, although not unwelcome, I must say."
What? Called for him specifically? She didn't! Still, she couldn't lie. She at least knew that much.
"Ah. I didn't target you, umm… Lord Fairy. This was a… blind summon."
She said it with a straight face, but internally, Deitra cringed. If any other magus heard her, he would laugh at her stupidity. She only hoped this fae knew little about magecraft.
"Hmm. You aren't lying. Yet your spell reached me even in Avalon. That's a long way from the human world."
She pointed at the red gem on the floor.
"It's… probably because of the catalyst."
At least she suspected that was the reason. She thought using that gem would 'aim' the summon at the fae, but if it had some kind of connection to this particular fairy, then it was possible it had narrowed the spell even more.
"Catalyst?" He looked down and picked the precious rock, his silver eyebrows rising in surprise. "Huh. So this is where it was." Deitra wasn't sure what this fae connection with the gem was, but he stared at it with a complicated expression for a long moment. "It doesn't fit anymore."
"Umm."
"Ah." He looked up at her again, his smile back on. "You are probably right. This was why you summoned me. But the question 'why' you summoned me remains. I don't think you did it for fun, so what do you need of the fae, child?"
She needed help to get out of the mansion alive. But… she wasn't sure how to say it. This fairy didn't seem evil, but you never knew with the Phantasmals. And now that she thought about it, what was she supposed to offer a fairy for its help? Her gaze fell on the gem again, and a brilliant idea formed. Yes, it was perfect.
"Lord Fairy," she started, making sure to sound confident. "In exchange for the catalyst I summoned you with, a great treasure of my family, I ask you to help me get out of this mansion. Alive, of course."
The fairy looked at her with wide eyes before bursting into laughter, doubling over in midair.
What the-?! What did she say wrong?! She just offered him a priceless artifact; she hoped it was priceless, at least. Cold sweat gathered on her back. She still showed nothing on her expression, but inwardly, she was panicking. This wasn't going how she imagined it would.
"How bold." The silver fairy said after he stopped laughing, although mirth still danced in his eyes. "You offer me what is mine to begin with. More, what was stolen from me. Are you sure you aren't trying to insult me?"
Godsdamnit, Grandfather! Why did you leave something like this in our house!?
"Yet it's true your timing was fortunate, fateful even," the fairy continued. "And while unintentional, your 'gift' is quite welcome. But it isn't enough. What you ask is a lot. Death nips at your heels, and my help is not that cheap. What else can you offer in exchange for your life?" He leaned closer to the circle boundary, his clawed hand touching the invisible barrier containing him, a shower of sparks crackling under his fingers. "Or maybe I should kill you myself right now. It would be a mercy to what awaits you otherwise."
Deitra gulped, eyeing the summoning circle, making sure it worked as intended. It was just a generic containment barrier worked into the spell, but it should be capable of keeping a simple fairy in. She had to trust it.
"Lord Fairy, while it's true my situation is dire, don't mistake my offer for weakness. You are bound by my summon, and you will accept my offer or you will return to where you came from. You said so yourself, my summon helped you already, and you hold my gift in your hand. Do not forget yourself."
The fairy's eyes narrowed. "Bound? Do you think this meager magecraft can hold me, little human?"
She was about to respond when golden-red flames bloomed around her, scorching heat licking at her skin for a fraction of a second before fading away, leaving behind a dozen swords floating in midair. Deitra held herself still, eyeing the beautiful weapons with gleaming sharp edges.
"You do not 'hold' me. Your spell cannot limit my soul; it's far from that level of magecraft. Did you not notice the dead things stopped their assault since I arrived? Who do you think is holding them back?"
Only now that the fairy pointed it out, that Deitra noticed the conspicuous lack of banging on the doors. She sighed inwardly. She must be really out of it. Consciously ignoring the blades pointed at her, she locked her eyes with the silver fairy. Somehow, fear left her. She just felt tired. She didn't want to give up, but she clearly wasn't in power here. Lucky or not, she summoned something way more powerful than she expected, and now it was biting her in the ass.
"… what else do you want then, Lord Fairy? Treasure? You can have anything you find in this room. My life? If so then I can't stop you, but if you don't help me then I will die either way."
The fairy crossed its arms and looked at her askance.
"There's nothing here I can't make myself. And I'm not that cruel, human. Show me you aren't just a helpless girl. Leave this room on your own, and I will help you escape this mansion alive."
Deitra wanted to snap at the fairy in frustration but held herself back. If she could escape on her own, she wouldn't attempt the summon to begin with. Still, just leaving this room shouldn't be impossible, especially if he would help her after that. She didn't have to save her strength in that case, after all.
"Fine. But you better keep your word, fairy."
"It's a promise, then. And what happened to 'Lord Fairy', huh? The disrespect!"
She gave his fake affronted look a flat stare. She was still a little wary of the silver Phantasmal, but by now she was done with trying to placate him. There was nothing she could do to stop him if he tried to kill her, so she may as well live the time she had left true to herself. And he was getting on her nerves anyway, the annoying little creature.
"You don't seem like a 'Lord'. And if you are the sort to be offended by that, then I will soon die anyway."
"Fair. I'm no Lord or King, that's for sure. My name is Avel, by the way. Kind of rude of me not to introduce myself now that I think about it. What about you, little human? Will you give me your name or are you afraid the 'fair folk' will steal it if you do?"
"Deitra," she easily said. There was no point worrying about such things now. That will be a problem for the future Deitra. If she survives. "Now be quiet and let me concentrate."
Deactivating the containment field of the summoning circle, she let the fairy out and turned to the barricaded doors. The weapons floating around her disappeared the same way they appeared, but she barely paid it any notice. Even the fairy floating around her, fiddling with the red gem, was just background noise. The stone wall blocking the passage still held, but small cracks covered its surface. It wouldn't last for much longer. She could once again hear the undead trying to get past it, a dull thumping that ever so slightly widened the cracks. Avel apparently stopped holding them off. She could simply reinforce the stone again, but that wouldn't help her leave the room. Slipping through the walls or floor was impossible. There was no way she could break through Grandfather's spells. Trying to brute-force it would only end up with the surface layer of the floor exploding in her face. Or worse, if the spells had active countermeasures built in.
Although…
She touched the rough gray stone and focused, channeling her magical energy into the familiar material. She wasn't the best magus, but she wasn't the worst. She knew many basic spells, even if she was more comfortable with the elemental manipulation. And some of those basic spells were quite useful. And even more so when performed incorrectly.
Magical energy flowed into the stone barricade and the doors outside, filling it to capacity and beyond. With a careful flex of her power, Deitra shaped the stone facing the corridor and prepared herself for the next step.
"Anail Cloiche."
With the chant of her aria, a shimmering wave of yellow energy washed over her and the stone barricade before her. A properly cast Reinforcement. At the same time, a portion of the stone and the doors facing outside exploded in a hail of sharp rocks and wood splinters as Reinforcement strengthened them beyond what the material could handle. Her side of the barricade crumbled from the force of the explosion, but her Reinforcement kept it from injuring her.
Deitra didn't waste a second and rushed through the opening, a wave of magical energy spreading from under her feet. The smell of shredded corpses almost made her gag, but she forced it down. The corridor was still full of stone dust, but she sensed the dead. Her magical energy flowed freely, suffusing the stone floor and walls, expanding her awareness. Her impromptu trap destroyed most of the ghouls that were close to the doors, but there were dozens more left. And then hundreds more outside. Yet she didn't despair. She concentrated and the corridor floor turned liquid, letting the ghouls sink down to their knees before solidifying again and trapping them in place. Stone spikes grew out of the walls and floor, impaling every undead body she could see. It was an impressive feat, better than she ever did in training, but it came at a cost. She was almost out of magical energy, her reserves lower than she could ever remember. And she could already sense more undead shambling in from the outside.
Gasping for air, she turned to the floating silver fairy.
"Well!?" she shouted at Avel. "I'm out. As promised. Now do your part. Get me out of here."
Avel's eyes pierced her with intensity, a blank expanse of silver like the rest of its body. She couldn't read it. The fairy had never stopped smiling since she summoned it, but now its smile seemed dimmer. Or maybe that was just her imagination. That impression soon faded, however, as its smile widened, showing off its sharp teeth again.
"So you are." He then tossed her the red gem. "Here. As promised."
She scrambled to catch it, looking at the fairy with an incredulous expression.
"… what!? That's it? You said you will get me out of here!"
"I said I will 'help you escape this mansion'. And I am helping you. You literally hold a piece of me in your hands. How more literal could my help get?"
Deitra could only stare dumbstruck at the thing. Really? She wasted most of her magical energy for this? Her face flushed with anger, a sting of irrational hurt at the betrayal stabbing at her heart.
She trusted it.
"Y-you!"
"Oh, it seems like the dead are here." Avel said before locking eyes with her. "I advise you to choose a path and run."
She held its gaze for a few seconds, searching for something in his eyes, although she wasn't sure for what, before running off, away from the mob of undead.
"… goodsdamnit!"
There were just a few ghouls on the side of the corridor facing away from the mansion's main entrance, and a simple stone spear grown from the floor was enough to destroy their heads. But even that minor spell left her winded. She was almost out of magical energy.
"Ah… how marvelous." Avel said from above, floating after her. "Humans truly are the most beautiful of all."
She tried to pay it no mind, but she still grit her teeth at his voice. She glanced at the red gem in her hand, but she didn't know what it was supposed to do. The fairy said it was a part of it, somehow, but she had no idea what that meant. Yet she didn't throw it away. It had to be something helpful, otherwise Avel wouldn't be able to claim he helped her escape by giving it to her.
Damnit, Grandfather, why did you make this mansion so big!?
Deitra was gasping for breath already, burning with the heat of her overworked circuits, physical and magical exhaustion compounding their effects as she ran through the winding corridors. She headed towards the servants' exit at the back of the building. She hoped it was clear of the undead, but unfortunately, she wasn't that lucky. Before she even saw the exit, more ghouls spilled into the stone passages. No matter how unfair it was, she could only pull at her depleted reserves and try to break through the rotting mob.
She replicated the trick with the sinking floor but didn't bother with the spikes. That would take too much of her magical energy. She would have to break through with her body alone. Thankfully, her earlier Reinforcement still held.
Weaving through the immobilized undead, Deitra avoided the grasping limbs and snapping jaws, but it was getting harder the further in she got. Halfway through, she stumbled. It was unavoidable, really. She was exhausted, her reserves of magical energy depleted. And so, despite her best efforts, a decaying hand caught her leg, tripping her. Her heart sank in her chest as she fell to the cold stone floor. She kicked off the undead limb, but deep inside, she knew it was over. She struggled to get up, but more foul hands grasped at her, keeping her pinned. Her only mercy was that the immobilized ghouls couldn't easily tear into her flesh, their jaws too far away, their hands lacking leverage. But she could hear the sound of breaking bones and snapping sinew as they ripped off their legs to get to her. More slimy hands grasped at her, and through the tangle of dead limbs, she could see the silver fairy floating high above, looking at her with a warm smile.
It held a beautiful golden-blue spear in its hands.
A spark of hope lit in her heart at the sight. Would he save her after all?
But before she could beg it for help, a violent gust of wind caused her to shut her eyes. The weight of the undead limbs disappeared, and something else took their place. When she could open her eyes again, the undead holding her down were gone. Hesitantly, she stood up, looking in wonder around her. Every ghoul in a five-feet radius was no more, reduced to nothing more than a pink mist. Some were slumped on the floor, parts of their bodies sheered off as if someone cut chunks of them away. She looked at the thing that pressed on her instead of the undead limbs. It was a spear. A perfect copy of the one Avel held.
She looked with wide eyes at the floating fairy, a silent question in her gaze.
"What's with that look? Did you think I gave you that in jest? I promised I will help you escape, didn't I?"
"I…"
Deitra wasn't sure what to say. She examined the weapon in her hands again, but it really was a replica of the one in Avel's. And seconds ago, it was just a red gem. She knew that, and she could feel a weak connection to it. The weapon she held was the red gem and the golden-blue spear at the same time. Somehow.
She opened her mouth to ask about it, but Avel was suddenly right before her, its silver eyes boring into her hazel ones, small warm hands resting on her cheeks.
"Now go. Show me your determination." A manic glint lurked in those featureless silver pools. "Struggle and fight until you die. Show me why the Age of Humans is upon us."
Conflicted feelings bubbled in Deitra's heart. One moment, Avel was a cruel fairy, laughing at her misery and reveling in her pain. Then it turns around and saves her life, praising her for her tenacity.
"… why do you hate humans so, Avel?" She asked, still trying to find something in those eyes.
"… hate?" Avel tilted his head. "I don't hate you, Deitra. Nor any human that lives. The opposite, in fact. I love humanity. You shine brighter than any other species in this world. Despite your fragility, despite the odds stacked against you, the man continues to advance. You change, both yourself and the world around you, forever forward. And for that, I love humanity. The gods are fading. Fairies will soon follow. But not humans. The weakest of Gaia's children will inherit this star."
Is that how fairies saw humans? Or was it just Avel? She shook her head. There was no point in thinking about fairies by human standards. She should just focus on surviving this night.
The spear protected her as she ran. She didn't even have to use it as a weapon; the shield of wind effortlessly deflected every ghoul that tried to stop her and soon she was out of the mansion. Despite more undead filling the grounds around her home, she almost sagged in relief at the sight of the night sky. She never would've thought her home could feel like a prison. She glanced at Avel from the corner of her eye, but he said nothing, nor did he disappear once she was outside. Good. She breathed in the chilly night air, focusing her thoughts. She needed to survive until morning, at least. It would be hard, but with a weapon like this in hand, she shouldn't have any problems taking care of the ghouls. She didn't even have to use her magical energy.
Of course, just as she thought that, the world reminded her that her luck wasn't that good.
The ghouls filling the mansion grounds stilled as a powerful magical signature quickly approached. Deitra clutched at her spear tighter, preparing herself to run if necessary. She doubted it was her parents or grandfather. She wasn't that lucky.
A young man appeared a short distance from her in a vortex of wind and dust. She didn't recognize him, but she still took a step back warily. He reeked of blood and rot, and her senses were almost overwhelmed by how much magical energy he radiated. As expected, a Dead Apostle. A vampire. He couldn't be more obvious if he tried.
"Well, well, well. That was unexpected." The man's eyes flicked to the floating fairy, but soon pinned Deitra down with his crimson gaze. "But I can't have you escape, little miss."
"What do you want from me?"
"For you to die, of course. I thought that was obvious from the start. Your grandfather made a lot of enemies and someone has to remind him he isn't beyond reprisal."
Deitra closed her eyes.
… godsdamnit, Grandfather.
Yet, she didn't give up. Avel was suspiciously silent since the man arrived, but he didn't leave just yet. The spear was still here. She had a chance.
Squaring her shoulders, she took a martial stance. She wasn't a warrior, but she knew the basics. Grandfather made sure of that.
She never took her eyes off the vampire, but she almost didn't see him move. One moment he was standing a good distance from her, and the next his fist was in front of her face. Her eyes widened as she tried to dodge, but she didn't have to bother. The spear's protection activated, and a howling wall of wind deflected the attack to the vampire's surprise. He tried a few more kicks and strikes, each one cracking the air with sheer speed, but he couldn't touch her. All he accomplished was peeling away the flesh on his hands. Deitra wasn't idle and attacked too, but the man dodged every strike with contemptuous ease.
Frowning, the vampire backed off, glancing at Avel.
"That's a fine weapon you have there. I wonder where you found it."
Deitra remained silent as she watched her enemy's wounds heal. There was no point in discussing anything with a vampire. Especially if it was trying to kill you.
But it seemed Avel didn't share her opinions.
"Be silent." The fairy voice snapped. The mirth Deitra was used to by now was nowhere to be found. "I don't know your ilk, but your very existence grates on my nerves. Dead things shouldn't bother the living."
"Hoh. That's quite rude. I thought fairies were big on politeness. Well, whatever. If your familiar won't help you, I will take that spear of your dead hands anyway, girl."
The vampire rushed her again, but he moved slower and reached for one of the motionless ghouls on his way. The undead exploded into chunks of gore and left a black-and-red sword behind that flew into the vampire's hand. She shuddered, her skin crawling at the mere sight of that vile weapon. Deitra prepared herself for another exchange of blows, channeling a trickle of magical energy into the ground, setting up another trap. She wasn't sure how much longer she would last, but she won't give up. Not when she got so far already.
But no matter her determination, she couldn't create miracles. The vampire blade hit her with a weight of a sledgehammer, the howling wind struggling to deflect it. Her spear was beyond any mystic code she ever saw, but it met its match now. And she was no spearmaster. She did her best, but with each exchange of blows, the protective winds grew just a little bit weaker, the black blade sapping its strength. She saw how that sword pulverized a part of the mansion when it hit it by accident once. If it met her body, she was dead.
A grim realization that she would die here started to sink in. Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes as she grit her teeth in defiance, struggling to fight the vampire off. Spikes of stone and sudden sinkholes barely fazed her enemy. She searched for Avel, but the fairy only floated to the side, a frustrated expression on its silver face. He was clutching at his chest as he watched the fight, but didn't intervene.
After another blow, the wind shield broke, pushing the vampire away one last time. He smiled, a vicious, ugly thing, and brought down its weapon for the last strike. Deitra's spear was out of position, and she knew it. She pulled on her magical energy, but only a dull throb answered her. She was spent.
But between one moment and the next, her spear disappeared in a burst of golden-red flames, only to reappear as a black-and-red sword, a mirror to the one seeking her life. Two blades met and rebounded in a shower of sparks, to the surprise of both the girl and the vampire.
For a moment, time seemed to stop as they stood frozen, staring at the word in her hand.
"Huh," the vampire finally said. "Interesting trick. But if that's all you can do, then it won't help you much. What good is a weapon if you can't use it well?"
Deitra didn't question how her spear turned into a sword. She just parried the next few swings, but she knew it was more because the vampire was curious if her sword was truly the same one he held. She did her best, but soon wounds started to appear on her body. A gash on her arm, a stab on her leg.
A sign that her end was near.
"Well, that would be that. Not bad, really, but it seems you ran out of tricks, girl."
She watched as the black edge approached her neck, still struggling to defend herself, but her arms were heavy and slow. She was just too tired by now.
"Enough." Avel said, suddenly appearing between Deitra and the vampire. She didn't even see how he got there or how he pushed the vampire away. His silver eyes pierced her with intensity, even as his face scrunched in frustration. "Why do you always… "
He didn't finish, his words trailing off. He just stared at her as she collapsed on her ass, too exhausted to even stand. She didn't even have the strength to ask him why he saved her in the end. All she could do was gasp for air and hold on to the sword.
The vampire, however, only seemed angry at the fairy's interruption.
"What the- "
"Silence, wretch."
"And why should I be, fairy? You did nothing as I laid her low, so you clearly aren't her protector, yet now you deny me her life. Why? She is just a human. A worthless little girl, weak as the rest of them. Not even worthy of receiving the gift of immortality as a fellow Apostle."
"I said 'silence'." Avel repeated himself and hundreds of weapons materialized around the vampire. Each one radiating with oppressive power. "I thought my opinion of you couldn't get lower, and yet you break that belief with every word you spout. Even the mere sight of your soul is repulsive."
The vampire fell silent at that, and even when she barely held on to consciousness, Deitra noticed the change in his demeanor. He suddenly calmed down and looked at Avel as if he saw him for the first time.
"… what is your name, fairy?"
"I am Avel, the Fairy of Fire and Iron. Now begone or I will show you why I hold this title."
"Ha! To think I would stumble upon a lead in a place like this." The vampire laughed with delight, ignoring Avel's warnings. "Truly, the ways of my Lady are inscrutable. Surely, if I offer her your soul, she will answer my prayers this time."
The ghouls that she almost forgot about, motionless since the vampire appeared, moved again. They surged towards Avel, faster than before as the vampire's magical energy empowered them. Deitra scuttled back until her back hit the wall of the mansion. She held on to the sword like a lifeline as she watched the battle between the silver fairy and the vampire. Although 'battle' was a generous term. Avel just floated in place and let the ghouls kill themselves upon hundreds of summoned weapons. The vampire seemed content to let his army exhaust the fairy, so it ended up looking like a pointless slaughter.
She just hoped they forgot about her.
But when she thought this would continue until sunrise, another change occurred on the battlefield.
A shriek resounded from the sky and something impacted the ground between the fairy and the vampire, kicking up a cloud of dust and soil. It was a barbed crimson spear that made her skin crawl with how much bloodlust it radiated. Red thorns exploded from the ground around the spear, impaling the ghouls in the vicinity, and bringing a stop to the fighting. Deitra just stared dumbly at the weapon until a movement in the sky caught her attention.
A woman fell from the dark heavens, trailing shadows in her wake. She landed beside the red spear with unnatural grace, her long purple hair swaying behind her, her red eyes focused on the silver fairy. All around her, the undead toppled over, brief screams of hazy ghosts echoing in the night before they sank into the twisting shadow the woman cast.
After all, here stood Scathach of Shadows. Queen of the Land of Shadows, a human turned divine.
The Goddess of Death.
Deitra almost laughed. First the undead and a silver fairy. Then a vampire. And now a goddess.
It was official now.
Her luck was just the worst.
Avalon was where the World's spirit divided itself, creating new fae, where the core of the World was closest to the surface, spilling its lifeblood in amounts that would kill a human in seconds.
But for all it was supposed to be a place of pure nature, there was something seemingly artificial near the edge of one lake. A ring of stones stacked atop each other, higher on one side. A crudely made wall, or maybe a begging of a tower. Unfinished construction of old, because even if the stones were still pristine white, the weight of millennia radiating off them was almost a physical feeling. Still, it was out of place. There were no fairies living in Avalon despite it being their birthplace, so this structure couldn't be the home of one.
Yet there was someone there.
A small silver fairy slept curled on a stone slab. Its skin gleamed like polished steel, golden flowing patterns adorning its limbs and cheeks. A long tail curled around it, smooth and ending with a sharp tip. It wore no clothes, but you couldn't tell if it was male or female by its androgynous form. On its head, above its pointy ears, strange protrusions extended down its body's length. Like two naked blades, straight and rigid, yet clearly a part of the fairy's body.
The fairy wasn't the only interesting thing there. On the slab it slept on, another object rested, held closely in the fairy's arms. A gold and blue sword in a similarly colored sheath. A weapon that very presence seemed to warp the mana in the air, the currents of magical energy curling around the blade, flowing through the sheath as if it didn't exist.
Time seemed to have no hold on the pair, the fairy with the sword hidden from the world, sleeping eternally in tranquil silence.
But one day, the fairy's face scrunched in a grimace and its eyelids fluttered open, glowing silver eyes reluctantly peering at the bright blue sky. It could feel something approaching, the mana of Avalon shuddering minutely.
Avel yawned, rubbing at his eyes, one hand still holding the beautiful sword to his chest. He looked around, noticing the change in the World, but didn't move. Whoever was coming wasn't his enemy. Avalon would warn him if it was. Still, it was annoying to be woken up like this. If whoever is visiting him doesn't have a good reason, he will give them a piece of his mind!
He didn't have to wait long for the intruder to appear.
A blue fairy floated down a hill. She appeared to be the same type of fae as Avel. A humanoid with animalistic traits, in her case, rabbit-like legs and a long lizard-like tail. In fact, she could pass as his sister, only different in coloration. She even had the same features on her head, long folded back rabbit-like ears, different from his sword-like appendages, but in the same place.
Avel's face lit up, a cheerful smile stretching his lips, showing off his sharp triangular teeth. His friend visited him! He didn't see her in quite some time. He almost thought she forgot about him by now.
"Blue!"
For some reason, she didn't appear particularly happy.
"… Red."
He left the pretty sword on the slab and floated up to her.
"What's wrong?" He asked, tilting his head. "You are unusually grumpy? Did Bihev act like an asshole again? Heh, say one word and I will stab him for you."
Her frown didn't disappear. It probably wasn't Bihev, then. Maybe Vivian? As good as Blue was at making friends, she could sometimes irritate them just as easily.
"How long are you going to hide here?"
His smile slipped a little at the sudden question. Why was she asking him this? It was barely a few decades since he secluded himself in Avalon. Surely it wasn't enough to worry her.
"Hiding? I'm just resting. You know, sleeping. For fun. You should try that sometimes, Blue. Maybe that's why you are in such a bad mood. Lack of proper sleep can stunt your growth, I've heard." He said, nodding sagely. "Anyway, did you know about this sword? It's super interesting!"
The gold and blue weapon was amazing, in Avel's opinion. A work of a master smith beyond even his skills, and infused with the will of the planet itself. A blade of unparallel beauty and power, a piece of the World forged into physical shape.
"Stop trying to change the subject, Red."
Silence filled the space between the two fairies for a few long moments. Avel's smile didn't slip, but it was more forced now, straining at the edges. He turned to his friend again, noticing her angry expression. He didn't like seeing her like this. Especially not when her anger was aimed at him.
"Shouldn't it be 'Silver' now?"
After all, there was nothing red about him anymore. His hair was as silver as the rest of him.
But Blue only grew angrier at that question.
"Stop it! Stop… acting like this. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."
He flinched, grabbing at his chest. It hurt for some reason. A hollow sting deep inside him. He averted his eyes, his smile turning into something ugly.
"… and why should I leave? I want to sleep here, so I do. I'm a fairy, Blue, just like you, so why are you asking me to do something I don't want to?"
"So you're gonna run away? Forever? Do you think she won't find you here?"
An image of purple hair and red eyes flashed before his eyes, accompanied by a wave of longing and regret, but he pushed it away. He did enough for her. For good and for bad alike. He just wanted to sleep here, in his home of Avalon. Was it really so wrong?
"Why would she search for me? She has her kingdom to see to, her people to lead. Besides, I did what I could, and it didn't work in the end. She is better off without me."
"… you will regret it, Red. She's my friend too, you know? I was there when you first met her, and even if I didn't spend as much time with her as you did, I still know her well. She won't stop. Not until she finds you. You may bury your heart under a mountain of swords, but you should know it's not that easy."
The hollow pain in his chest returned, stronger than before, but he crushed it again. That pain was weakness. Doubt and suffering. He was better off without it.
"So? She is just a human in the end. She will fade away and I won't have to worry about her anymore. I just… I just need to wait a while. Sleep here. Then I will wake up, and she'll be gone. It'll hurt a bit, but it'll be over."
"… I see it's useless to talk to you, Red."
He sighed in relief. At least she will give it up. He didn't want to argue with his friend over this. It was stupid and pointless, anyway.
"So I will beat some sense into you instead."
Blue nodded firmly and balled her hands into fists.
"Huh? B-Blue, aren't you a bit more forceful than usual? There's no need for violence over a single human."
"Oh, I think there is, Red. If you can't realize it on your own, then my fists will remind you."
Avel backed off until he hit the far wall of the stone circle as his friend advanced on him. Shit, was he really about to fight with his oldest friend? Over a single human? He couldn't remember a single time when they actually fought for real.
But before the blue fairy could pummel him into the ground, something else intruded on Avalon. A feeble string of magical energy. A weak thing, barely holding itself together after passing through the dimensions, yet it unerringly zeroed in on the silver fairy and touched him, extending an invitation. A deal. He could grasp it and it would take him away.
He didn't know who was attempting to summon him into the human world, but they already had his favor for rescuing him from this strange situation.
"Ah, it seems I'm being called on. Sorry, Blue, our duel will have to be postponed for now."
Blue lunged at him, and he quickly pumped the string of magic full of magical energy.
"Stop! Don't you dare take that summon!"
Unfortunately for the blue fairy, Avel disappeared before she could catch him, her hands passing through the space he occupied just a moment earlier.
It was common knowledge that a young girl shouldn't be outside alone at night. Not only because it was a stupid idea to throw yourself at the mercy of other, often drunk, people, but because humans weren't the only things that prowled the dark. Gods and fairies, monsters and beasts. Each one would happily devour a lost teenage girl.
And yet, here was Deitra, just fifteen and running for her life well into the midnight.
She clutched at her side as she made her way through the dark forest, the full moon mercifully illuminating the undergrowth. She cursed herself for being so dumb as to end up in this situation. That's what she got for lying and staying alone in her home, just to go to the village festival. Who knew wanting to flirt with some boys would be her death. She glanced behind her, searching for the things that pursued her. She saw nothing, but didn't stop anyway. Her eyes showed her naught but a wild forest, but her senses told her the truth.
A foul stench followed her.
It wasn't the gods, nor fairies or monsters, not even wild beasts that chased her, but rather the literal dead themselves. Corpses raised from their graves. Ghouls, rotting and falling apart, but forced onward by their master.
Deitra finally reached the forest edge, and the sight of her family mansion filled her heart with relief. She didn't get lost. She didn't know what she would do if she ended up in the middle of nowhere.
After stumbling through the mansion gates, she allowed herself to stop. She should be safe now. Well, safer. The rest of her family was away, and she suspected that whoever hunted her chose this night exactly because of that, but her home should allow her some measure of protection anyway.
She activated her magical circuits and reached to the bounded field surrounding the mansion, activating the magical defenses. A yellow bubble shimmered into existence around the entire property, just beyond the mansion's outer walls, before fading from sight. More hidden countermeasures turned on, defensive and offensive spells alike, woven into the stone foundations and walls by her grandfather. Their family may be small, but Grandfather Lonan was one of the most powerful magi in Ireland. If she was lucky, this should keep the ghouls away until her parents' return, or at least until sunrise.
She wasn't that lucky.
"Gods… damnit…"
Just an hour later, she panted with exhaustion after rising a wall of stone to block the passage deep inside the building, cutting away the tide of the dead. She wasn't sure if it was the mastermind behind them, or if they had some kind of trait that destroyed magecraft, but they tore through the barriers in minutes, even when dozens were turned to shreds by the offensive spells. She wasn't panicking, not yet, but it would be a lie to say she wasn't afraid.
Deitra wasn't a great magus for her age. Not bad, but not great. Just… average. It was fine with her. She didn't need to be the best one around, and her parents didn't expect her to be either. She was grateful for that. Her grandfather may still roam the land in search of fairies, but he didn't force his obsession on the rest of them. But now she kind of wished her family made her train more seriously. As great as it was to have so much freedom compared to the more traditional families of magi, it also meant she didn't have access to the more powerful spells and mystic codes.
She surveyed the room she found herself in. It was littered with various strange objects, seemingly without a single unifying theme. From pieces of wood and stone to finely crafted weapons and trinkets, all laid out on shelves and pedestals along the walls, leaving the central space open.
She sighed, "Great, it's Grandfather's storeroom."
Each item here was somehow connected to the fair folk. Her grandfather collected everything that was related to the elusive spirits of nature, always bringing back another strange object whenever he returned from his expeditions.
She was disappointed, because there was no other exit here. She was essentially trapped. On the plus side, this was the most protected room in the mansion, as befitting of her grandfather's 'treasury'. And there were some valuable items here. She normally wasn't allowed to even touch them, but she was sure her grandfather would not mind if he knew the situation she was in. Unfortunately, she wasn't that familiar with most of them. Fairy artifacts were notoriously difficult to work with, and she wasn't skilled or knowledgeable enough to make use of most of them. She walked around the spacious room, inspecting each one, but her stomach sank as she found nothing immediately useful. Oh, many items were powerful or expensive, she was sure, but none could help her fight off a horde of undead.
The muffled banging coming from beyond the sealed-off doors startled her, and a bead of sweat slid down the side of her face. She tried to push it down, but the fear she felt since this whole situation began kept gnawing at her. At this rate she won't last until sunrise. She combed through the storeroom once again, desperately trying to find anything useful. In the end, she decided to risk and take one of the swords. A short and mundane-looking blade, but better than nothing. She only hoped it wasn't cursed.
But when she took it from the pedestal it lay on, the weapon shimmered with gold and turned into a spherical red gem in a brief flare of flames. Deitra almost dropped it, but the fire didn't actually burn her and it happened so fast that it was over before she properly registered what was happening. She stared at the sword-turned-gem with a baffled expression. She wasn't sure what she expected from a fae sword, but it definitively wasn't this. What was she supposed to do with it now? She wanted a weapon, not a precious stone! She inspected it, but it didn't seem magical in any way. Just a large, perfectly round red gem with a spindle-shaped line in the middle, like a slit eye of a snake.
The banging on the doors reminded her she didn't have time to waste. She racked her brain in search of a solution to her predicament, but it seemed hopeless. Retreating to the mansion was supposed to grant her protection until her family saved her, but it turned out she only trapped herself. Her magecraft might let her escape, but she didn't have unlimited reserves of magical energy, and breaking through a mass of ghouls would require a lot. She reviewed each of the spells she knew, hypothesizing different combinations and approaches she could use them in.
Wait. What if…
She glanced at the space in the middle of the room. Like the rest of the mansion, it was made of stone. Her family attribute was 'Transition'. They could easily shift matter into different states, from solid to liquid to gas and back again. Combined with their element of Earth, a wide-scale manipulation of terrain was possible.
Deitra infused the floor with magical energy, trying to turn it into liquid and sink through to the floor below. But just when the stone started to ripple, a thaumaturgic circle flashed on its surface, freezing her magical energy in place.
"Great. Just fantastic. Grandfather's protective spells will be my doom."
She glared at the frozen stone in the shape of a magical circle. She had the worst luck today. But soon her frown melted away as another idea bloomed in her mind.
Ignoring the increasingly louder banging on the blocked off doors, she kneeled and carefully infused more energy into the floor, subtly changing the imprinted magical circle. Not her grandfather's spell itself, but the stone above. Thankfully, minute amounts of magical energy didn't trigger the defenses, and she quickly made the needed changes. She then cut her palm open, barely feeling the pain, and let her blood spill on the floor, the crimson liquid quickly filling the grooves and gaps.
She stood up and looked at her work with a nervous expression.
It was a summoning circle.
A mad last attempt at coming out of this alive. Mad, because it was the height of foolishness to cast out a blind summon like this. Normally, you would specifically target a being or place and prepare countermeasures for when whatever you summoned wasn't friendly. But Deitra didn't have time for that. She had to satisfy herself with just a simple containment field.
A loud bang behind her prompted her to go with her plan despite the risks. Placing the gem in the middle of the circle, she stepped back and infused most of her magical energy into the spell. She considered forgoing any catalysts, but honestly, she had to take every chance she could, and the gem was still a fairy artifact. It should target the spell at least a little.
The circle crackled with red energy as she kept on powering it, the spell greedily sucking more and more of her reserves until finally it lit with a blinding flash.
When her sight recovered, she spotted a silver fairy floating in the middle of the room. A humanoid creature with a long tail, strange sword-like ears, and skin like molten silver.
Deitra gulped. The summoning worked, but now she wasn't sure how to proceed. The fae were capricious beings, and interacting with them was often dangerous. Some were quite nice and helpful to humans, while others were… not. This fairy thankfully didn't look evil. At least she hoped it wasn't. Despite her grandfather's obsession with them, she never actually met the fair folk.
The fairy looked around the room curiously, a slight smile on his lips. When his eyes fell on her, she froze for a second, but forced herself to relax. She couldn't appear weak.
"H-Hello." She said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.
It took a few seconds to respond, all the while its smile slowly grew, until his cheerful expression showed off his sharp teeth. Very sharp teeth.
"Yes. Hello to you too, human. I answered your summons. Now, was there a particular reason you called for me specifically? It was quite unexpected, although not unwelcome, I must say."
What? Called for him specifically? She didn't! Still, she couldn't lie. She at least knew that much.
"Ah. I didn't target you, umm… Lord Fairy. This was a… blind summon."
She said it with a straight face, but internally, Deitra cringed. If any other magus heard her, he would laugh at her stupidity. She only hoped this fae knew little about magecraft.
"Hmm. You aren't lying. Yet your spell reached me even in Avalon. That's a long way from the human world."
She pointed at the red gem on the floor.
"It's… probably because of the catalyst."
At least she suspected that was the reason. She thought using that gem would 'aim' the summon at the fae, but if it had some kind of connection to this particular fairy, then it was possible it had narrowed the spell even more.
"Catalyst?" He looked down and picked the precious rock, his silver eyebrows rising in surprise. "Huh. So this is where it was." Deitra wasn't sure what this fae connection with the gem was, but he stared at it with a complicated expression for a long moment. "It doesn't fit anymore."
"Umm."
"Ah." He looked up at her again, his smile back on. "You are probably right. This was why you summoned me. But the question 'why' you summoned me remains. I don't think you did it for fun, so what do you need of the fae, child?"
She needed help to get out of the mansion alive. But… she wasn't sure how to say it. This fairy didn't seem evil, but you never knew with the Phantasmals. And now that she thought about it, what was she supposed to offer a fairy for its help? Her gaze fell on the gem again, and a brilliant idea formed. Yes, it was perfect.
"Lord Fairy," she started, making sure to sound confident. "In exchange for the catalyst I summoned you with, a great treasure of my family, I ask you to help me get out of this mansion. Alive, of course."
The fairy looked at her with wide eyes before bursting into laughter, doubling over in midair.
What the-?! What did she say wrong?! She just offered him a priceless artifact; she hoped it was priceless, at least. Cold sweat gathered on her back. She still showed nothing on her expression, but inwardly, she was panicking. This wasn't going how she imagined it would.
"How bold." The silver fairy said after he stopped laughing, although mirth still danced in his eyes. "You offer me what is mine to begin with. More, what was stolen from me. Are you sure you aren't trying to insult me?"
Godsdamnit, Grandfather! Why did you leave something like this in our house!?
"Yet it's true your timing was fortunate, fateful even," the fairy continued. "And while unintentional, your 'gift' is quite welcome. But it isn't enough. What you ask is a lot. Death nips at your heels, and my help is not that cheap. What else can you offer in exchange for your life?" He leaned closer to the circle boundary, his clawed hand touching the invisible barrier containing him, a shower of sparks crackling under his fingers. "Or maybe I should kill you myself right now. It would be a mercy to what awaits you otherwise."
Deitra gulped, eyeing the summoning circle, making sure it worked as intended. It was just a generic containment barrier worked into the spell, but it should be capable of keeping a simple fairy in. She had to trust it.
"Lord Fairy, while it's true my situation is dire, don't mistake my offer for weakness. You are bound by my summon, and you will accept my offer or you will return to where you came from. You said so yourself, my summon helped you already, and you hold my gift in your hand. Do not forget yourself."
The fairy's eyes narrowed. "Bound? Do you think this meager magecraft can hold me, little human?"
She was about to respond when golden-red flames bloomed around her, scorching heat licking at her skin for a fraction of a second before fading away, leaving behind a dozen swords floating in midair. Deitra held herself still, eyeing the beautiful weapons with gleaming sharp edges.
"You do not 'hold' me. Your spell cannot limit my soul; it's far from that level of magecraft. Did you not notice the dead things stopped their assault since I arrived? Who do you think is holding them back?"
Only now that the fairy pointed it out, that Deitra noticed the conspicuous lack of banging on the doors. She sighed inwardly. She must be really out of it. Consciously ignoring the blades pointed at her, she locked her eyes with the silver fairy. Somehow, fear left her. She just felt tired. She didn't want to give up, but she clearly wasn't in power here. Lucky or not, she summoned something way more powerful than she expected, and now it was biting her in the ass.
"… what else do you want then, Lord Fairy? Treasure? You can have anything you find in this room. My life? If so then I can't stop you, but if you don't help me then I will die either way."
The fairy crossed its arms and looked at her askance.
"There's nothing here I can't make myself. And I'm not that cruel, human. Show me you aren't just a helpless girl. Leave this room on your own, and I will help you escape this mansion alive."
Deitra wanted to snap at the fairy in frustration but held herself back. If she could escape on her own, she wouldn't attempt the summon to begin with. Still, just leaving this room shouldn't be impossible, especially if he would help her after that. She didn't have to save her strength in that case, after all.
"Fine. But you better keep your word, fairy."
"It's a promise, then. And what happened to 'Lord Fairy', huh? The disrespect!"
She gave his fake affronted look a flat stare. She was still a little wary of the silver Phantasmal, but by now she was done with trying to placate him. There was nothing she could do to stop him if he tried to kill her, so she may as well live the time she had left true to herself. And he was getting on her nerves anyway, the annoying little creature.
"You don't seem like a 'Lord'. And if you are the sort to be offended by that, then I will soon die anyway."
"Fair. I'm no Lord or King, that's for sure. My name is Avel, by the way. Kind of rude of me not to introduce myself now that I think about it. What about you, little human? Will you give me your name or are you afraid the 'fair folk' will steal it if you do?"
"Deitra," she easily said. There was no point worrying about such things now. That will be a problem for the future Deitra. If she survives. "Now be quiet and let me concentrate."
Deactivating the containment field of the summoning circle, she let the fairy out and turned to the barricaded doors. The weapons floating around her disappeared the same way they appeared, but she barely paid it any notice. Even the fairy floating around her, fiddling with the red gem, was just background noise. The stone wall blocking the passage still held, but small cracks covered its surface. It wouldn't last for much longer. She could once again hear the undead trying to get past it, a dull thumping that ever so slightly widened the cracks. Avel apparently stopped holding them off. She could simply reinforce the stone again, but that wouldn't help her leave the room. Slipping through the walls or floor was impossible. There was no way she could break through Grandfather's spells. Trying to brute-force it would only end up with the surface layer of the floor exploding in her face. Or worse, if the spells had active countermeasures built in.
Although…
She touched the rough gray stone and focused, channeling her magical energy into the familiar material. She wasn't the best magus, but she wasn't the worst. She knew many basic spells, even if she was more comfortable with the elemental manipulation. And some of those basic spells were quite useful. And even more so when performed incorrectly.
Magical energy flowed into the stone barricade and the doors outside, filling it to capacity and beyond. With a careful flex of her power, Deitra shaped the stone facing the corridor and prepared herself for the next step.
"Anail Cloiche."
With the chant of her aria, a shimmering wave of yellow energy washed over her and the stone barricade before her. A properly cast Reinforcement. At the same time, a portion of the stone and the doors facing outside exploded in a hail of sharp rocks and wood splinters as Reinforcement strengthened them beyond what the material could handle. Her side of the barricade crumbled from the force of the explosion, but her Reinforcement kept it from injuring her.
Deitra didn't waste a second and rushed through the opening, a wave of magical energy spreading from under her feet. The smell of shredded corpses almost made her gag, but she forced it down. The corridor was still full of stone dust, but she sensed the dead. Her magical energy flowed freely, suffusing the stone floor and walls, expanding her awareness. Her impromptu trap destroyed most of the ghouls that were close to the doors, but there were dozens more left. And then hundreds more outside. Yet she didn't despair. She concentrated and the corridor floor turned liquid, letting the ghouls sink down to their knees before solidifying again and trapping them in place. Stone spikes grew out of the walls and floor, impaling every undead body she could see. It was an impressive feat, better than she ever did in training, but it came at a cost. She was almost out of magical energy, her reserves lower than she could ever remember. And she could already sense more undead shambling in from the outside.
Gasping for air, she turned to the floating silver fairy.
"Well!?" she shouted at Avel. "I'm out. As promised. Now do your part. Get me out of here."
Avel's eyes pierced her with intensity, a blank expanse of silver like the rest of its body. She couldn't read it. The fairy had never stopped smiling since she summoned it, but now its smile seemed dimmer. Or maybe that was just her imagination. That impression soon faded, however, as its smile widened, showing off its sharp teeth again.
"So you are." He then tossed her the red gem. "Here. As promised."
She scrambled to catch it, looking at the fairy with an incredulous expression.
"… what!? That's it? You said you will get me out of here!"
"I said I will 'help you escape this mansion'. And I am helping you. You literally hold a piece of me in your hands. How more literal could my help get?"
Deitra could only stare dumbstruck at the thing. Really? She wasted most of her magical energy for this? Her face flushed with anger, a sting of irrational hurt at the betrayal stabbing at her heart.
She trusted it.
"Y-you!"
"Oh, it seems like the dead are here." Avel said before locking eyes with her. "I advise you to choose a path and run."
She held its gaze for a few seconds, searching for something in his eyes, although she wasn't sure for what, before running off, away from the mob of undead.
"… goodsdamnit!"
There were just a few ghouls on the side of the corridor facing away from the mansion's main entrance, and a simple stone spear grown from the floor was enough to destroy their heads. But even that minor spell left her winded. She was almost out of magical energy.
"Ah… how marvelous." Avel said from above, floating after her. "Humans truly are the most beautiful of all."
She tried to pay it no mind, but she still grit her teeth at his voice. She glanced at the red gem in her hand, but she didn't know what it was supposed to do. The fairy said it was a part of it, somehow, but she had no idea what that meant. Yet she didn't throw it away. It had to be something helpful, otherwise Avel wouldn't be able to claim he helped her escape by giving it to her.
Damnit, Grandfather, why did you make this mansion so big!?
Deitra was gasping for breath already, burning with the heat of her overworked circuits, physical and magical exhaustion compounding their effects as she ran through the winding corridors. She headed towards the servants' exit at the back of the building. She hoped it was clear of the undead, but unfortunately, she wasn't that lucky. Before she even saw the exit, more ghouls spilled into the stone passages. No matter how unfair it was, she could only pull at her depleted reserves and try to break through the rotting mob.
She replicated the trick with the sinking floor but didn't bother with the spikes. That would take too much of her magical energy. She would have to break through with her body alone. Thankfully, her earlier Reinforcement still held.
Weaving through the immobilized undead, Deitra avoided the grasping limbs and snapping jaws, but it was getting harder the further in she got. Halfway through, she stumbled. It was unavoidable, really. She was exhausted, her reserves of magical energy depleted. And so, despite her best efforts, a decaying hand caught her leg, tripping her. Her heart sank in her chest as she fell to the cold stone floor. She kicked off the undead limb, but deep inside, she knew it was over. She struggled to get up, but more foul hands grasped at her, keeping her pinned. Her only mercy was that the immobilized ghouls couldn't easily tear into her flesh, their jaws too far away, their hands lacking leverage. But she could hear the sound of breaking bones and snapping sinew as they ripped off their legs to get to her. More slimy hands grasped at her, and through the tangle of dead limbs, she could see the silver fairy floating high above, looking at her with a warm smile.
It held a beautiful golden-blue spear in its hands.
A spark of hope lit in her heart at the sight. Would he save her after all?
But before she could beg it for help, a violent gust of wind caused her to shut her eyes. The weight of the undead limbs disappeared, and something else took their place. When she could open her eyes again, the undead holding her down were gone. Hesitantly, she stood up, looking in wonder around her. Every ghoul in a five-feet radius was no more, reduced to nothing more than a pink mist. Some were slumped on the floor, parts of their bodies sheered off as if someone cut chunks of them away. She looked at the thing that pressed on her instead of the undead limbs. It was a spear. A perfect copy of the one Avel held.
She looked with wide eyes at the floating fairy, a silent question in her gaze.
"What's with that look? Did you think I gave you that in jest? I promised I will help you escape, didn't I?"
"I…"
Deitra wasn't sure what to say. She examined the weapon in her hands again, but it really was a replica of the one in Avel's. And seconds ago, it was just a red gem. She knew that, and she could feel a weak connection to it. The weapon she held was the red gem and the golden-blue spear at the same time. Somehow.
She opened her mouth to ask about it, but Avel was suddenly right before her, its silver eyes boring into her hazel ones, small warm hands resting on her cheeks.
"Now go. Show me your determination." A manic glint lurked in those featureless silver pools. "Struggle and fight until you die. Show me why the Age of Humans is upon us."
Conflicted feelings bubbled in Deitra's heart. One moment, Avel was a cruel fairy, laughing at her misery and reveling in her pain. Then it turns around and saves her life, praising her for her tenacity.
"… why do you hate humans so, Avel?" She asked, still trying to find something in those eyes.
"… hate?" Avel tilted his head. "I don't hate you, Deitra. Nor any human that lives. The opposite, in fact. I love humanity. You shine brighter than any other species in this world. Despite your fragility, despite the odds stacked against you, the man continues to advance. You change, both yourself and the world around you, forever forward. And for that, I love humanity. The gods are fading. Fairies will soon follow. But not humans. The weakest of Gaia's children will inherit this star."
Is that how fairies saw humans? Or was it just Avel? She shook her head. There was no point in thinking about fairies by human standards. She should just focus on surviving this night.
The spear protected her as she ran. She didn't even have to use it as a weapon; the shield of wind effortlessly deflected every ghoul that tried to stop her and soon she was out of the mansion. Despite more undead filling the grounds around her home, she almost sagged in relief at the sight of the night sky. She never would've thought her home could feel like a prison. She glanced at Avel from the corner of her eye, but he said nothing, nor did he disappear once she was outside. Good. She breathed in the chilly night air, focusing her thoughts. She needed to survive until morning, at least. It would be hard, but with a weapon like this in hand, she shouldn't have any problems taking care of the ghouls. She didn't even have to use her magical energy.
Of course, just as she thought that, the world reminded her that her luck wasn't that good.
The ghouls filling the mansion grounds stilled as a powerful magical signature quickly approached. Deitra clutched at her spear tighter, preparing herself to run if necessary. She doubted it was her parents or grandfather. She wasn't that lucky.
A young man appeared a short distance from her in a vortex of wind and dust. She didn't recognize him, but she still took a step back warily. He reeked of blood and rot, and her senses were almost overwhelmed by how much magical energy he radiated. As expected, a Dead Apostle. A vampire. He couldn't be more obvious if he tried.
"Well, well, well. That was unexpected." The man's eyes flicked to the floating fairy, but soon pinned Deitra down with his crimson gaze. "But I can't have you escape, little miss."
"What do you want from me?"
"For you to die, of course. I thought that was obvious from the start. Your grandfather made a lot of enemies and someone has to remind him he isn't beyond reprisal."
Deitra closed her eyes.
… godsdamnit, Grandfather.
Yet, she didn't give up. Avel was suspiciously silent since the man arrived, but he didn't leave just yet. The spear was still here. She had a chance.
Squaring her shoulders, she took a martial stance. She wasn't a warrior, but she knew the basics. Grandfather made sure of that.
She never took her eyes off the vampire, but she almost didn't see him move. One moment he was standing a good distance from her, and the next his fist was in front of her face. Her eyes widened as she tried to dodge, but she didn't have to bother. The spear's protection activated, and a howling wall of wind deflected the attack to the vampire's surprise. He tried a few more kicks and strikes, each one cracking the air with sheer speed, but he couldn't touch her. All he accomplished was peeling away the flesh on his hands. Deitra wasn't idle and attacked too, but the man dodged every strike with contemptuous ease.
Frowning, the vampire backed off, glancing at Avel.
"That's a fine weapon you have there. I wonder where you found it."
Deitra remained silent as she watched her enemy's wounds heal. There was no point in discussing anything with a vampire. Especially if it was trying to kill you.
But it seemed Avel didn't share her opinions.
"Be silent." The fairy voice snapped. The mirth Deitra was used to by now was nowhere to be found. "I don't know your ilk, but your very existence grates on my nerves. Dead things shouldn't bother the living."
"Hoh. That's quite rude. I thought fairies were big on politeness. Well, whatever. If your familiar won't help you, I will take that spear of your dead hands anyway, girl."
The vampire rushed her again, but he moved slower and reached for one of the motionless ghouls on his way. The undead exploded into chunks of gore and left a black-and-red sword behind that flew into the vampire's hand. She shuddered, her skin crawling at the mere sight of that vile weapon. Deitra prepared herself for another exchange of blows, channeling a trickle of magical energy into the ground, setting up another trap. She wasn't sure how much longer she would last, but she won't give up. Not when she got so far already.
But no matter her determination, she couldn't create miracles. The vampire blade hit her with a weight of a sledgehammer, the howling wind struggling to deflect it. Her spear was beyond any mystic code she ever saw, but it met its match now. And she was no spearmaster. She did her best, but with each exchange of blows, the protective winds grew just a little bit weaker, the black blade sapping its strength. She saw how that sword pulverized a part of the mansion when it hit it by accident once. If it met her body, she was dead.
A grim realization that she would die here started to sink in. Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes as she grit her teeth in defiance, struggling to fight the vampire off. Spikes of stone and sudden sinkholes barely fazed her enemy. She searched for Avel, but the fairy only floated to the side, a frustrated expression on its silver face. He was clutching at his chest as he watched the fight, but didn't intervene.
After another blow, the wind shield broke, pushing the vampire away one last time. He smiled, a vicious, ugly thing, and brought down its weapon for the last strike. Deitra's spear was out of position, and she knew it. She pulled on her magical energy, but only a dull throb answered her. She was spent.
But between one moment and the next, her spear disappeared in a burst of golden-red flames, only to reappear as a black-and-red sword, a mirror to the one seeking her life. Two blades met and rebounded in a shower of sparks, to the surprise of both the girl and the vampire.
For a moment, time seemed to stop as they stood frozen, staring at the word in her hand.
"Huh," the vampire finally said. "Interesting trick. But if that's all you can do, then it won't help you much. What good is a weapon if you can't use it well?"
Deitra didn't question how her spear turned into a sword. She just parried the next few swings, but she knew it was more because the vampire was curious if her sword was truly the same one he held. She did her best, but soon wounds started to appear on her body. A gash on her arm, a stab on her leg.
A sign that her end was near.
"Well, that would be that. Not bad, really, but it seems you ran out of tricks, girl."
She watched as the black edge approached her neck, still struggling to defend herself, but her arms were heavy and slow. She was just too tired by now.
"Enough." Avel said, suddenly appearing between Deitra and the vampire. She didn't even see how he got there or how he pushed the vampire away. His silver eyes pierced her with intensity, even as his face scrunched in frustration. "Why do you always… "
He didn't finish, his words trailing off. He just stared at her as she collapsed on her ass, too exhausted to even stand. She didn't even have the strength to ask him why he saved her in the end. All she could do was gasp for air and hold on to the sword.
The vampire, however, only seemed angry at the fairy's interruption.
"What the- "
"Silence, wretch."
"And why should I be, fairy? You did nothing as I laid her low, so you clearly aren't her protector, yet now you deny me her life. Why? She is just a human. A worthless little girl, weak as the rest of them. Not even worthy of receiving the gift of immortality as a fellow Apostle."
"I said 'silence'." Avel repeated himself and hundreds of weapons materialized around the vampire. Each one radiating with oppressive power. "I thought my opinion of you couldn't get lower, and yet you break that belief with every word you spout. Even the mere sight of your soul is repulsive."
The vampire fell silent at that, and even when she barely held on to consciousness, Deitra noticed the change in his demeanor. He suddenly calmed down and looked at Avel as if he saw him for the first time.
"… what is your name, fairy?"
"I am Avel, the Fairy of Fire and Iron. Now begone or I will show you why I hold this title."
"Ha! To think I would stumble upon a lead in a place like this." The vampire laughed with delight, ignoring Avel's warnings. "Truly, the ways of my Lady are inscrutable. Surely, if I offer her your soul, she will answer my prayers this time."
The ghouls that she almost forgot about, motionless since the vampire appeared, moved again. They surged towards Avel, faster than before as the vampire's magical energy empowered them. Deitra scuttled back until her back hit the wall of the mansion. She held on to the sword like a lifeline as she watched the battle between the silver fairy and the vampire. Although 'battle' was a generous term. Avel just floated in place and let the ghouls kill themselves upon hundreds of summoned weapons. The vampire seemed content to let his army exhaust the fairy, so it ended up looking like a pointless slaughter.
She just hoped they forgot about her.
But when she thought this would continue until sunrise, another change occurred on the battlefield.
A shriek resounded from the sky and something impacted the ground between the fairy and the vampire, kicking up a cloud of dust and soil. It was a barbed crimson spear that made her skin crawl with how much bloodlust it radiated. Red thorns exploded from the ground around the spear, impaling the ghouls in the vicinity, and bringing a stop to the fighting. Deitra just stared dumbly at the weapon until a movement in the sky caught her attention.
A woman fell from the dark heavens, trailing shadows in her wake. She landed beside the red spear with unnatural grace, her long purple hair swaying behind her, her red eyes focused on the silver fairy. All around her, the undead toppled over, brief screams of hazy ghosts echoing in the night before they sank into the twisting shadow the woman cast.
After all, here stood Scathach of Shadows. Queen of the Land of Shadows, a human turned divine.
The Goddess of Death.
Deitra almost laughed. First the undead and a silver fairy. Then a vampire. And now a goddess.
It was official now.
Her luck was just the worst.
Zedman7054
Eternally 3rd
- Location
- United States
LUCK: EX
It's important to remember that EX rank skills merely mean that they are "beyond measurable scaling" and just like luck itself, can be both positive and negative.
Poor Avel, manages to escape his lesson at the fists of Blue only to face down Scathach. Arguably, it's his luck that's the worst right now.
It's important to remember that EX rank skills merely mean that they are "beyond measurable scaling" and just like luck itself, can be both positive and negative.
Poor Avel, manages to escape his lesson at the fists of Blue only to face down Scathach. Arguably, it's his luck that's the worst right now.
Ironically, it's probably the girl who has the best luck out of them all, she's at least more likely than not to make it out just fine with the ability to use a Fae artifact if she hightails it.
Chapter 15 - Wanderer 5
Chapter 15 – Wanderer 5
Truly, his luck was just the worst.
Avel couldn't help the thought as he watched Scathach pull her spear out of the ground. It really seemed like the world was conspiring against him. He considered the summoning to be a boon; it helped him get away from his unreasonable friend, after all, but now he saw it was only a curse in disguise.
First, the girl. He knew he shouldn't be blaming her, but the longer he watched her, the more the hollow feeling in his heart grew. She reminded him of his student. Not in her appearance, or even her aura, but in her situation. It was as if he was back there again, in that fateful clearing where he gave Scathach his blessing as Deitra fought against impossible odds with nothing but determination and that damned spear.
He shouldn't have chosen something else, but it was almost like it left Eternal Forge on its own.
Then that man. He didn't know what he was, but the sight of his aura filled Avel with revulsion. Not his emotions, because that was nothing new - just another human who reveled in pain and death - but what lay underneath. A human soul corrupted with something wrong. Alien. It was as if a vile parasite burrowed itself into the core of the man's being and changed him. A rotting infection detached from the flow of time, keeping the soul in stasis and yet feeding on its humanity, destroying it bit by bit.
A fake immortality that offended him on a fundamental level. More than he ever would have thought possible. Mainly because he was sure the man did it to himself, or at least accepted it willingly. He threw away his humanity for this disgusting kind of immortality, and it irritated Avel to no end.
And then, because his luck was just that abysmal, Scathach herself somehow found him. He couldn't read her aura, the shadows obscuring her like a veil, and her expression was blank, but he was sure she was boiling with anger under that mask.
They faced off in the silence that fell over the field with her arrival. Silver eyes locked with red, a teacher and his student, and despite how deep he buried his human heart, he looked away first, that accusing gaze too heavy to withstand.
The disgusting man broke the quiet shortly thereafter, his elated voice carrying through the night as he fell to his knees.
"Ah! My goddess! You finally answered my calls and graced this unworthy servant with your presence. Truly, my efforts weren't in vain."
Scathach looked at the man after a few seconds, her face still expressionless, but Avel saw hints of discomfort at the edges. She knew that man, and she clearly didn't like what she heard. She regarded the kneeling man and sighed, her shoulders slumping a little. Before the man could utter another word, she reached into a pouch at her belt and threw out a handful of pebbles, the stones falling in a perfect circle before igniting with magical energy and creating an opaque shield, imprisoning the man.
With that distraction dealt with, she turned to Avel again, squaring her shoulders. Her gaze flickered to Deitra, the girl looking back with wide eyes as she tried to make herself as small as possible, but no magical prison sprung this time. Deitra's meager existence dismissed as unimportant.
"Teacher." She finally said.
"… Scathach."
There was no point pretending he didn't know her. He may look completely different, but he had no doubts Blue told her about his new appearance. It was probably how Scathach even knew where to find him in the human world right now in the first place.
Avel grimaced, his hands balling into fists as the hollow feeling in his heart intensified again, becoming painful. As if something reached into his chest and scooped out a fistful of his being, leaving a gaping hole behind.
He hated this. This… pain. He hid in Avalon for this reason exactly. To get away from it all. From humans and their beautiful radiance.
And of course, the moment he was back, it started again. He tried to keep his distance, but Deitra just had to remind him of Scathach so much, to the point he intervened and saved her life at the end there. Now Scathach was here too and the feelings he buried so deep were trying to claw their way to the surface.
He let out a bark of laughter, and a crooked smile crawled onto his lips.
"So, you found me. Now what? Will you enact your revenge for my curse? It was a few decades already, wasn't it?"
Scathach didn't respond, but she walked towards him, spear in hand. Shadows still obscured her aura, but anger bled through her placid expression anyway.
He didn't run.
"That's only the start, Scathach. Immortality is a curse, and the longer you live, the worse it gets, so your anger is justified. I… didn't want that for you, but the world doesn't always give us what we want. Still, I'm the source of your immortality. Maybe if you kill me, it will go away. I won't even move."
And he wouldn't. As much as he wanted to deny it, she had the right to hold a grudge as his blessing changed her forevermore. He tried to run away from that truth, but it found him in the end, at the worst moment, too. He would let her have her revenge, stab him a few times, and then he will sleep in Avalon for eternity, done with it all.
Then Scathach was right before him and he prepared himself for the inevitable, tensing ever so slightly. But instead of piercing his heart, his student punched him in the face with all her strength, sending Avel crashing into the ground.
"Shut up!" Scathach yelled, her expressionless mask breaking as her face scrunched with frustration.
He looked up at her in confusion, one hand grabbing at his throbbing face as a stream of silver blood leaked from his nose.
"Huh?"
"I said. Shut. Up." She poked his forehead with each word. "You are impossible sometimes, Teacher. If you didn't run back then, we could've talked it out, but no, you just had to run again and make me search for you this time. At least Dienu helped me a little. You have no idea how long it took me to find you."
"Wh-"
"No. No talking. Just listening." She interrupted him and bent down, placing a finger on his chest and locked gaze with his featureless eyes. "That's not your call to make." When he was about to object, she powered on. "It's not. Wherever I will resent my immortality or not isn't for you to decide. You said it yourself, you didn't want it for me. But it happened anyway, so stop trying to beat yourself over it."
Avel flushed with anger, grinding his teeth. What could she possibly know!?
"That's easy for you to say! You are young. What in a hundred years? A thousand? Will you be so nonchalant about it, huh!?"
"Then that will be my problem!" She snapped before calming herself down forcibly. "Stop taking responsibility for everything bad that happens in the world."
"You think my blessing didn't change you?" He asked, incredulous.
"So what?" She asked, her sharp voice cutting like a sharp blade. "Would I be better off dead, then? Because that's what would happen otherwise."
"…"
She stepped back, exhaling deeply. "I'm glad I met you, Teacher. You saved me, again and again, and I'm grateful for that. I never thought you didn't help me enough. I'm sure nobody you ever helped cursed you for it later, and even if they did, that's their problem. But don't take their every burden on yourself."
He tried to hold on to his righteous anger, but the wrath drained from him and his heart shook with pain, the void in his chest swallowing everything. Scathach's aura shined like a brilliant star, with hope and determination, the shadows now gone. That invisible light chased away his every excuse, forcing him to face the truth.
So he should've let them die? Suffer alone? Cador's face flashed in his mind. His and countless others. He hated watching them disappear, but he couldn't chain them, too. He knew that, but it didn't lessen the pain anyway. That's why it was easier to just be 'Avel', a selfish fairy that didn't care for the lives of humans, only if they kept struggling and advancing.
"It's… it's not that easy, Scathach."
"Maybe." She acknowledged his feeble attempts at clinging to his blissful ignorance. "But you have to live for yourself, too. You can't go through your life only worrying about other people."
"And be selfish like a fairy?"
Wasn't that the problem right now?
"Then be selfish. Not as a fairy, but as yourself."
… as yourself, huh? He closed his eyes, focusing inward, toward the center of his being where the manifestation of his soul resided. The ever-shifting sword of gold and iron, although right now it was only gold. The iron was still there, just under the surface, and since Dienu met him in Avalon, it was trying to resurface. Now, Avel reached for it, for his heart he buried there.
Scathach's words reminded him of the day he created Eternal Forge. He declared himself then. A poem that described his life, a vow to the World itself. He knew the words, and even if he would never speak them again, they were etched into the foundation of his being.
But however immortal he was…
'Utterly alone I forge my steel, under a mountain of swords.'
… it didn't mean he was unchanging.
He was still 'alone', no other like him existed, but he was becoming to learn that it was the same for everyone, no matter if they were unique existences like him or just one of the hundreds of millions of humans in the world. Each one was different, shaped by their experiences and bonds. What mattered was staying true to himself and not trying to be something he was not. And no matter how much easier it would sometimes be, he wasn't a simple silver fairy.
And as Scathach said, his 'mountain' didn't need to be so large. Staying true to himself didn't mean he had to carry the burdens of everyone he helped. Some 'swords' didn't need to join his 'mountain'. People were strong enough to carry their own 'swords', their own burdens. He simply had to trust in them. It didn't mean he wouldn't still help them if he could. He just won't blame himself for every time they stumble, for every time his help wasn't enough.
Iron bled into the gold, and Shirou's heart seized with pain as frozen emotions flowed through him again.
He opened his golden eyes, meeting the crimson gaze of his student.
"Hi, Scathach." He said with a crooked smile. "And sorry. I… was stupid."
"You were, Teacher."
She said so, but still embraced him. Shirou leaned into her touch, hugging her back. A lock of fiery red hair fell over his eye and his smile turned a bit more relaxed. Good. He was back to normal again. He tried to move his tail, but thankfully it wasn't there anymore. How he didn't notice his body changing so much, he had no idea.
But he knew 'Avel' was still there. His fairy side wasn't something possible to discard, after all. It was a part of him, just as 'Shirou' was. The name he claimed on the very first day in Faery now represented his fairy nature, and it long became an integral part of his being. He could say he 'was' Avel, and it wouldn't be a lie anymore. It wasn't for some time now. Yet he kept referring to himself as 'Shirou' in his mind, because he still didn't want to lose that link to his distant hometown.
It was a small, heh, selfish wish. To one day walk those streets again. A small hope just for himself.
The sound of breaking glass brought them back to the present. The barrier that contained the disgusting man shattered, exposing a panting figure with a black sword in hand. When he spotted Scathach, however, his posture straightened and a happy smile bloomed on his face.
"My goddess!"
Shirou glanced at his student and lifted one eyebrow. Goddess? What was Scathach doing exactly when he was off hiding in Avalon? She noticed his questioning look and grimaced slightly, but her attention was on the man. No matter, she can tell him later. He focused on the man again, and even when he was 'Shirou' and not 'Avel', he still found this creature disgusting. A human with a rotting soul, forever locked out of time, sacrificing his very humanity for a flawed immortality. Disgusting. Scathach's aura, however, was shining with pity instead of disgust.
"Duleanbh …"
The man's, Duleanbh's, face lit in bliss as if that single acknowledgment of his existence was the greatest gift he ever received.
"Yes, my goddess! It's your humble servant, Duleanbh."
"… you were never my servant, Duleanbh. I didn't save you just so you would serve me like a slave."
"That may be so, my goddess," Duleanbh continued without losing his smile. "But you saved my life and gave me purpose. It was hard, but I did my best to repay you. I hope my gifts were suitable. I tried to send you as many as I could, but even when I got an opportunity to change myself, to reach a fraction of your greatness, it was impossible to even approach your splendor."
Shirou didn't like how this conversation was going. The 'gifts' this thing was talking about couldn't be anything good. Judging by Scathach's increasingly turbulent aura, he wasn't the only one. There was a story there, but Shirou didn't interrupt. It was his student affair, and he had no right to interfere, no matter how repulsive he found the man.
"I…" Scathach appeared to struggle for words, her aura in turmoil before settling on determined regret, a strange combination. "I'm sorry, Duleanbh."
The man tilted his head at the sudden apology, but his smile remained fixed. Even when Scathach lifted her hand and every ghoul in sight toppled over and the tortured souls caged in those rotting bodies sank into the shadows, Duleanbh's smile never wavered. He seemed to trust Scathach implicitly and take her every action as correct, even when it took his thralls away from him. He didn't flinch or move away when Scathach approached him and speared his heart in one smooth motion, killing him.
"Ahh… my goddess final… blessing…"
He died with that same smile, his last words full of bliss and happiness, and his aura radiating contentment until his last moment.
Shirou frowned. It was disturbing to see someone accept his death so easily. That was… wrong. It went against everything he loved in humans. They should never accept their end so easily, no matter how wretched their souls were. Humans should always try to move forward, advance, until their last second.
Shaking his head, Shirou walked up to his student. He didn't need his Eyes to know this wasn't easy on her. Scathach was staring at the smiling corpse, not moving a single muscle. He didn't know their relationship, but she would tell him if she wanted to. Shirou put his hand on her shoulder, extending the offer to listen and comfort her.
She smiled at him, a wan thing full of bitterness and gratitude, before turning towards the mansion.
"… I'm fine, Teacher. Let's deal with the other one."
Ah, yes. He almost forgot about Deitra.
The young girl was still there, sitting with her back against the cold stone wall and watching everything that unfolded with wide eyes. Awe and fear filled her aura, although fear was taking over now. Yeah, maybe talking about 'dealing' with her wasn't the best choice of words on Scathach's part. Especially after she effortlessly executed the man Deitra struggled to survive against.
"Don't worry, Deitra," Shirou reassured the girl. "You're safe now."
"Uh.. t-that's… great, um, I… didn't know you're that Avel. You were all… silver. And I heard nothing, definitively!" She blurted, looking between him and Scathach. "Don't take my soul, please?"
All right, it was getting weird. Apparently, Deitra knew about him beforehand, too. Somehow. He glanced at his student beside him but found no answer there. She was back to her 'ice queen' persona she used whenever she didn't want to deal with a particularly annoying courtier.
"Ah, yes, that. You summoned me at a… bad time, let's say. Sorry about that. And we won't hurt you. No, seriously." He added after seeing she didn't believe him at all. "Scathach, can you heal her, please?"
"He speaks the truth, girl." Scathach pitched in for the first time as she traced a series of runes over Deitra's injuries. "If I wanted to take your soul, I would've already done so. I'm here for Avel. Whatever pact you two have is between you alone. Act as if I'm not here at all."
"That's… thank you, my goddess."
There was that word again. Shirou prodded Scathach's shoulder with a wisp of magical energy to take her attention and to mask his voice so that Deitra wouldn't hear him.
"Goddess?"
Scathach's shoulders slumped minutely and her aura flickered with exasperation.
"Later."
Shirou nodded and let it go for now. He focused on Deitra again, noting that she still looked at his student with awe and fear. She didn't believe Scathach's assurances at all.
The girl still held onto that black sword. Or rather, the red gem that mirrored that sword. In Shirou's Fairy Eyes, the sword and the gem overlaid each other; a single object in two states simultaneously, a trick of Perspective. Much like his Eternal Forge. It was certainly a surprise to stumble upon that thing there. He last saw it on his first day in Faery, when Bihev sealed his ability to 'steal' his weapons, and later Shirou almost forgot it even existed. Now that he could properly 'See', he was able to understand how Bihev did what he did.
The gem contained a part of his soul. The piece of his soul in the gem wasn't actually detached from the greater rest, it was just… 'disconnected' from it, for the lack of another word. It was the same trick of Perspective that allowed it to function as it did. Because it was still technically a part of Shirou's soul, just outside of it, it was affected when he created Eternal Forge, allowing it to store a 'record' in its own minuscule Domain. But because it was so small, it could only hold a single 'record' at a time, and each time it copied something, the previous 'record' got overwritten. Yet it still retained his original ability to 'record' any weapon, not just his own.
The problem was, it didn't fit Shirou's greater soul anymore, despite still being a part of it. The domain in the gem differed slightly from Eternal Forge, and even if it was technically still a part of the greater whole, it was impossible to properly absorb it back. It was inherently intertwined with the ability to record any weapon, but not the physical counterparts. He wasn't sure what would happen if he tried, but he was afraid it would be nothing good. And he was wary of messing with his soul more than he needed. He had enough problems with it after the recent 'silver' incident. Not to add, he wasn't even sure if he could do anything to absorb it. The simple red gem appeared completely mundane to his senses, it was only thanks to his Fairy Eyes and the fact that it was his soul inside that he deduced that much.
"Deitra, I promised to help you escape the mansion, but in the end, it was nothing more than a cruel fancy. I could blame my 'silver' status for that, but it doesn't change the fact that you almost died for my entertainment. I'm truly sorry for that. You didn't deserve it."
She really didn't. He clearly remember the time he was 'Silver', and he didn't like it much. Being free of conscience was great and all, but it wasn't so pretty when he had to face the consequences of his actions. He did the bare minimum to help the girl on purpose, just to see her struggle and overcome adversity, because humans were the most beautiful at those times. Now it only made him feel like an asshole.
"Um, you technically did help me get out, so… it's fine?"
Shirou could see that it wasn't really 'fine', Deitra's aura was tinged with anger and bitter resignation. She probably didn't want to show she resented his actions now that a 'goddess' stood before her, but almost dying and being repeatedly misled and cheated must've been upsetting. He didn't blame her, and it only made the ugly feeling in his stomach worse.
"It's not. Your summoning helped me more than you can imagine, so I'm in your debt. The deal is off. You can keep the gem. It's a powerful artifact, so it will help you in the future." She already knew how to use it more or less, and the rest shouldn't be hard to figure out. Leaving it with her may not be his best idea, but he owed her, and if Shirou was unable to do anything with the piece of his soul trapped there, he doubted anyone weaker than Bihev could. "But even that isn't enough."
"No!" Deitra almost shouted with wide eyes. "It's fine, Avel. Rally. Let's just call it even."
"Nonsense. I caused you a lot of suffering, so let's say I owe you. When you need help next time, summon me again, and I'll help you out."
"… alright."
The sitting girl looked like she wanted to protest, but she accepted Shirou's generous offer in the end. She kept glancing at Scathach and at the brightening sky, probably worried about more undead, Shirou supposed. Silly girl, he doubted any were left after Scathach did her thing.
They talked for a bit longer, mostly to make sure Deitra would be fine before her guardians returned, but he could tell she was increasingly uncomfortable and paranoid about their presence, so Shirou and Scathach soon left the girl alone.
"So… goddess?"
Scathach sighed, her aura tinged with annoyance, but she continued to inscribe runes on a large, flat stone. They had stopped a short distance from Deitra's house, on one of the many mountains that dotted these parts. Shirou sat on a small ledge, watching the sun slowly rise over the forests of Ireland as his student worked. She apparently had an easier way of returning to her home than reenacting their journey from Ireland to Skye.
"I'm not. But… it took me almost fifty years to find you, Teacher."
"Ugh. Again, I'm sorry."
"You should be. It wasn't easy to leave the Land of Shadows on my own, and the less said about Skye afterward, the better. Anyway, I wasn't exactly subtle in my search. I didn't know if you returned to Faery or just hid in the human world, so I asked about you everywhere. From druids and mages to fairies and even Aelf's villages. And while many knew of you, nobody could tell me where to find you, so I ended up traveling all over the isles and even parts of the mainland. And, well, you remember what that woman in the Land of Shadows told you about me and the shadows?"
"… that you were a beacon for them or something?"
"Yes, that. And I still am. Wherever I go, ghosts follow me as shadows, pooling at my feet until I return to the Land of Shadows, where they can stay on their own. But the longer I linger in the human world, the more ghosts follow me, until the effect becomes visible, inky shadows writhing at my feet. And even regular people can see them, not just the phantasmals or mages. So rumors started I'm some kind of goddess of death, roaming the lands and gathering the souls of the departed warriors, leading them to the afterlife. They aren't wrong, technically, but it's still annoying. It didn't help when Dead Apostles started to appear lately."
"Is that what that disgusting…" Shirou paused when he noticed Scathach's aura color with regret. No matter how repulsive that man was, his student had some connection to him, so Shirou held back on his personal opinions for now. "Duleanbh, was?"
Scathach spear paused for a moment but soon resumed tracing runes in the stone.
"Yes. A vampire. An undead human that feeds on blood and is vulnerable to sunlight. They can also turn other beings into undead thralls, like the ghouls you saw. I'm not sure where they come from, but they are becoming more common. And I have an… unfortunate power interaction with them, let's say. My domain over 'shadows', which are basically just souls of the deceased, trump Dead Apostles's control, so I can simply command the souls trapped in those decaying bodies to leave, 'killing' them instantly.
"… and you probably did the whole 'thing' where you rip the souls out of the undead with a mere gesture where people could see you one too many times, and thus, 'The Goddess of Death and Shadows' was born."
"More or less." Scathach nodded. "That's how I met Duleanbh, actually. He was just a boy I saved in a village overrun with undead. I…" She stopped her work, turning to look Shirou in the eyes, uncertainty and regret swirling in her crimson gaze. "Should I have done more for him? I left him at the neighboring village and didn't think more of it. Do you think he would be alive if I did what you did for me?"
"… didn't you just tell me to be more selfish? To let others make their own decisions and carry their own burdens?"
"…"
"Do you regret killing him?"
"… no. I barely even recognized him to begin with, and if he saw me as 'the Goddess of Death', then his 'gifts' were undeniably human souls. Dead Apostles aren't known for their kindness, and you saw how many ghouls he had. Each one was an innocent human he killed."
"Then mourn the boy you saved in that village, not the monster that you had to put down. It may be hypocritical coming from me, but don't agonize over every mistake you had ever made, or you will end up, well, probably not 'silver', but hidden away somewhere, in a realm removed from the greater world, alone and isolated for all eternity."
And Shirou saw it many times, in many stages. From his own struggles, to Yu's painful anger, to Bihev's self-imposed isolation. Some dealt with it differently, like Vivian and Dienu, but they too bore the scars of ages, however hidden behind the mask of carelessness.
He didn't want it for his student, but she was right in the end; he had no right to impose his view of immortality on her. And while he may like to act like a wise teacher from time to time, the truth was they were both quite young yet, not even half a millennium old. His views will probably change again in time, but, well, Shirou wasn't the brightest, so he will probably make stupid mistakes and form stupid opinions, but at least Scathach will be there to whack some sense into his thick skull.
"Is that why you think immortality is a curse?"
"In part. A situation like the one with Duleanbh will probably repeat as long as you keep living in the human world. To live is to make connections and bonds, and when you outlive everyone you care about, it gets harder to keep going. And your mistakes and regrets just keep piling up. But you aren't a fairy, Scathach, so maybe it will be different for you."
It wasn't a satisfying answer, he knew that, and judging by Scathach's aura, she didn't like it either, but that was how he saw it.
Scathach returned to her work with a thoughtful expression, but soon her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Wait. Teacher, you say you don't know how immortality will affect me as I'm a human, but… weren't you also one? That woman said that was the reason your blessing worked as it did, and you didn't refute her. So…?"
"Ah, you remember that. Yes, I was originally a human."
"So it's true." Scathach eyes widened in surprise. "Why did you never tell me before?"
"I didn't keep it a secret on purpose. It just never came up, I guess."
He brushed that revelation off, but his student seemed even more interested now. She kept glancing at him even when her spear traced more runes on the stone with mechanical precision.
"Can you tell me more?" She asked after a moment.
"It's nothing that interesting, to be honest, but if you want to know…" Shirou looked up at the brightening sky, considering how much to share. "… I was born in the town of Fuyuki, in the lands far to the east, on the other side of the world, almost. My childhood was… not that different from yours."
Shirou ignored how Scathach's aura colored with pity and sorrow. It was long ago, and he made his peace with it, but he supposed it changed little for his student; she knew that pain well.
"I lost my parents in a great fire that destroyed a portion of my hometown, and the magus that saved my life adopted me in the aftermath. I remember little from before that. You could say I was born in those flames for how much of 'me' was left afterward, but… never mind, it's long in the past. My adoptive father wasn't the best of parents, but then again, I probably wasn't the best of sons, but we were happy. At least I hope he was. He passed away a few short years later."
"…"
"It's fine, Scathach," Shirou said when she sat beside him, hugging him from the side. "It was a long time ago." He patted her head. "I did some stupid thing after that, and one of them almost got me killed. Even now I'm not sure how I became what I am today. The last thing I remember was a giant fireball descending on my dying body, and then I woke up as a fairy in Avalon."
"… you died?" Scathach asked with a horrified expression.
"No, I'm pretty sure I didn't actually die. I still had my bloodstained clothes on when I woke up, so I was transported and transformed at the same time, somehow. Still, no idea how. But that's unimportant. That day I met Dienu, and she helped me a lot to get used to being a fairy. And after that, well, nothing much really happened. I stayed in Nibelung, learned blacksmithing, and eventually made my way back to the human world. Then I met you."
"I feel like you left a lot out, Teacher."
He smiled at her unsatisfied face, patting her again. He did leave out a lot, but most of it was details. His struggles with Bihev's task, the three hundred years of idling in Nibelung, and his adventures in Faery. But for all the centuries he spent in the realm of fairies, he didn't really 'live' properly until he returned to the human world. Or at least it felt like it.
"Maybe." He hopped off the ledge, smirking at his disgruntled student, dispersing the heavy atmosphere. "Now enough about me. Did you finish already?"
She gave him a long look but let it go and stepped into the center of the intricately engraved runic circle. It was beyond Shirou's meager knowledge of runes. Despite learning a bit from Scathach, he wasn't that good, and this array of hundreds of interlinked sigils was far above his understanding.
"… fine. It's done. I only need to activate it."
He stepped to the side and waved her on. Scathach inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and released a stream of magical energy into her work, making the runes glow with various colors. His student was a human, and while the amount of magical energy she could use was impressive for one, it was still far from what a fairy like Shirou could do. And yet it didn't take long for the air to distort and tremble with how much magical energy radiated from the circle. He glanced at the writhing inky blackness at her feet; it seemed like her domain over 'shadows' was more than just a burden. The mass of incorporeal ghosts gladly offered their reserves to the 'goddess' they followed, feeding Scathach with an almost endless amount of energy.
Soon, the runes blazed with almost blinding brilliance, and with a snap of freezing air, a large black gate rose out of the ground. A familiar gate, in fact.
"Gate of Skye."
Scathach words were heavy with power as she completed the spell, and the gate opened with a groan, revealing absolute darkness within. Even his Eyes couldn't show him what hid in there, but the design of the gate was almost a perfect replica of the one in Scathach's castle, so it wasn't hard to guess where they led to.
She entered the gate without another word, and Shirou followed. When he passed the threshold, the familiar sensation of crossing between the Faery and the human world enveloped him. It lasted for only a few seconds, but it was intriguing. Scathach spell was more than simple teleportation, it would seem. But before he could analyze it further, he found himself in front of the Castle of Skye.
But something was… off.
While the castle was as he remembered it, the sky above was a featureless gray, and the air was tinged with a subtle scent of death. And despite the lack of direct sunlight, the shadows were sharp and perfectly black.
He frowned, "This isn't Skye."
"No, it isn't," Scathach said with an amused smile. "This is the Land of Shadow. I just did some… remodeling. If I had to spend a lot of time here, I wasn't going to do it by sitting in the middle of an empty plain."
"Seriously? So, you rebuilt your castle here?"
"Not rebuilt. It's a copy made by magecraft, although it's real enough. I never actually use the one back at Skye anymore. There's no reason to."
Shirou hummed in understanding, but it was still unexpected. To think Scathach would abandon the human world… wait.
"But what about your students?" he asked with a bit of concern. She was searching for him, sure, but she wasn't a fairy detached from the rest of the world. She had her responsibilities. "What about Skye?"
"Some ambitious warriors still seek me out, but I'm a lot more strict now, admitting maybe one disciple a decade. About Skye, well… I abdicated."
"… what?" Shirou asked, dumbstruck at her nonchalant answer.
Abdicated!? But she was the Queen of Skye! That's what she was, what defined her for most of her life! Shirou stared at the purple-haired woman, but her aura didn't waver even a little, her eyes free of regrets.
She really gave up her throne willingly.
"Teacher, I never planned on being some immortal god-queen. Even stretching it as far as I did wasn't the best idea in hindsight. I did my best for my people for almost ninety years, sacrificing a lot along the way, and even if things weren't that great near the end, I tried my best. I may have been born to rule, but it doesn't mean I have to carry the burdens of my kingdom for eternity. It's the same thing I told you, only on a larger scale. My people needed to learn how to walk on their own, make their own mistakes, and fix their own problems."
He was never a ruler, so he couldn't gainsay her here, but it was still strange to think she would let someone else lead her people after all she sacrificed for them.
"Who even succeeded you, Scathach? As far as I'm aware, you never had children."
Scathach snorted, amusement dancing in her aura to Shirou's confusion.
"You wouldn't recognize his name, but it was one of Aife's grandsons. Heh, I guess she ended up in control of Skye, after all. In a way."
Shirou sat down on the familiar stone bench, his head swirling. It was just a short fifty years that he was gone, and so much had changed. Aife's grandson? He couldn't imagine how that arrogant girl's offspring ended up with enough claim to Skye for Scathach to appoint him the king. With no hard feeling even, it would seem.
"Any more revelations I missed?" He asked warily.
"Hmm." Scathach hummed, a finger on her chin. "Nothing major. Besides the 'goddess' thing, the Skye new king, the Dead Apostles, the lack of disciples, and my new castle, the world kept going as it always did."
Placing his face in his palms, he exhaled deeply. Why did the human world change so rapidly? He knew the Age of Gods was near its end, but damn it, couldn't the humans slow down a little?
"Scathach, promise to stop me when I go 'silver' next time, please. I feel like I'm in a new world all over again. It's aggravating. If it keeps happening, I'll hide in Faery out of sheer annoyance."
"I promise, Teacher. You won't get away from me so easily next time." She nodded, taking his exasperated remark seriously. "Oh, and did you feel anything strange when we crossed the Gate? Lately, it seems like it's getting harder to open a passage."
He gave her a flat look. "… Scathach, you're killing me." Why did she keep telling him about these important things like it was just an afterthought? "You should mention these things first."
Shirou calmed down and focused on his senses, switching his Perspective and concentrating. It wasn't easy, as it basically meant staring at empty air and trying to peer into the underlying fabric of reality, but as a fairy, he was one of the few beings that could pull it off. Eternal Forge helped too, as it was inherently a thing of distorted reality. Still, after ten minutes of an intense staring contest with empty air, he wasn't sure if he knew what his student was talking about. It wasn't until he reached for his connection to Faery, drawing in a silver of its mana, that he noticed something.
The Land of Shadows was essentially a small, self-contained world. A dimension separate from the rest of reality, be it the human world or the Reverse Side of the World. If the woman who owned it before was truly a goddess, then it would make this pocked world some kind of Divine Authority. A final resting place where the god would retreat when the Age of Gods finally ended. Or something like that. Shirou wasn't an expert.
The important bit was, his connection with Faery was getting… not weaker, maybe, but more 'distant'. It didn't affect him in any way, but Shirou could tell he was slowly, very slowly, moving 'away' from Faery. Not in any particular direction, but more metaphysically. Now that its original owner was gone, the Land of Shadows slowly drifted apart from humanity, Scathach being its only link back. But his student was just a human, her Mystery was a fraction of its previous owner. A hundred Scathachs wouldn't stop the drift.
"The Land of Shadows is slowly drifting away from the human world." He finally said.
"Can we do something about it?" Scathach asked, her face showing concern.
He couldn't blame her. She was linked to this place, and if she didn't return here regularly, she would end up drowning in 'shadows' in the human world. And while the prospect of staying in this removed world would appeal to 'Avel', Shirou knew Scathach didn't want that.
"It's not an immediate problem. At this rate, it will take centuries before you can't cross over. Hopefully, we will find a solution before that happens."
"… I'm sure, Teacher."
"We will, Scathach." He repeated when he noticed the doubt in her voice. "In fact, that's what I'll focus on next. There has to be something out there that can help you."
She was still doubtful, her aura tinged with resignation, but it only increased Shirou's determination.
He won't fail her this time.
Truly, his luck was just the worst.
Avel couldn't help the thought as he watched Scathach pull her spear out of the ground. It really seemed like the world was conspiring against him. He considered the summoning to be a boon; it helped him get away from his unreasonable friend, after all, but now he saw it was only a curse in disguise.
First, the girl. He knew he shouldn't be blaming her, but the longer he watched her, the more the hollow feeling in his heart grew. She reminded him of his student. Not in her appearance, or even her aura, but in her situation. It was as if he was back there again, in that fateful clearing where he gave Scathach his blessing as Deitra fought against impossible odds with nothing but determination and that damned spear.
He shouldn't have chosen something else, but it was almost like it left Eternal Forge on its own.
Then that man. He didn't know what he was, but the sight of his aura filled Avel with revulsion. Not his emotions, because that was nothing new - just another human who reveled in pain and death - but what lay underneath. A human soul corrupted with something wrong. Alien. It was as if a vile parasite burrowed itself into the core of the man's being and changed him. A rotting infection detached from the flow of time, keeping the soul in stasis and yet feeding on its humanity, destroying it bit by bit.
A fake immortality that offended him on a fundamental level. More than he ever would have thought possible. Mainly because he was sure the man did it to himself, or at least accepted it willingly. He threw away his humanity for this disgusting kind of immortality, and it irritated Avel to no end.
And then, because his luck was just that abysmal, Scathach herself somehow found him. He couldn't read her aura, the shadows obscuring her like a veil, and her expression was blank, but he was sure she was boiling with anger under that mask.
They faced off in the silence that fell over the field with her arrival. Silver eyes locked with red, a teacher and his student, and despite how deep he buried his human heart, he looked away first, that accusing gaze too heavy to withstand.
The disgusting man broke the quiet shortly thereafter, his elated voice carrying through the night as he fell to his knees.
"Ah! My goddess! You finally answered my calls and graced this unworthy servant with your presence. Truly, my efforts weren't in vain."
Scathach looked at the man after a few seconds, her face still expressionless, but Avel saw hints of discomfort at the edges. She knew that man, and she clearly didn't like what she heard. She regarded the kneeling man and sighed, her shoulders slumping a little. Before the man could utter another word, she reached into a pouch at her belt and threw out a handful of pebbles, the stones falling in a perfect circle before igniting with magical energy and creating an opaque shield, imprisoning the man.
With that distraction dealt with, she turned to Avel again, squaring her shoulders. Her gaze flickered to Deitra, the girl looking back with wide eyes as she tried to make herself as small as possible, but no magical prison sprung this time. Deitra's meager existence dismissed as unimportant.
"Teacher." She finally said.
"… Scathach."
There was no point pretending he didn't know her. He may look completely different, but he had no doubts Blue told her about his new appearance. It was probably how Scathach even knew where to find him in the human world right now in the first place.
Avel grimaced, his hands balling into fists as the hollow feeling in his heart intensified again, becoming painful. As if something reached into his chest and scooped out a fistful of his being, leaving a gaping hole behind.
He hated this. This… pain. He hid in Avalon for this reason exactly. To get away from it all. From humans and their beautiful radiance.
And of course, the moment he was back, it started again. He tried to keep his distance, but Deitra just had to remind him of Scathach so much, to the point he intervened and saved her life at the end there. Now Scathach was here too and the feelings he buried so deep were trying to claw their way to the surface.
He let out a bark of laughter, and a crooked smile crawled onto his lips.
"So, you found me. Now what? Will you enact your revenge for my curse? It was a few decades already, wasn't it?"
Scathach didn't respond, but she walked towards him, spear in hand. Shadows still obscured her aura, but anger bled through her placid expression anyway.
He didn't run.
"That's only the start, Scathach. Immortality is a curse, and the longer you live, the worse it gets, so your anger is justified. I… didn't want that for you, but the world doesn't always give us what we want. Still, I'm the source of your immortality. Maybe if you kill me, it will go away. I won't even move."
And he wouldn't. As much as he wanted to deny it, she had the right to hold a grudge as his blessing changed her forevermore. He tried to run away from that truth, but it found him in the end, at the worst moment, too. He would let her have her revenge, stab him a few times, and then he will sleep in Avalon for eternity, done with it all.
Then Scathach was right before him and he prepared himself for the inevitable, tensing ever so slightly. But instead of piercing his heart, his student punched him in the face with all her strength, sending Avel crashing into the ground.
"Shut up!" Scathach yelled, her expressionless mask breaking as her face scrunched with frustration.
He looked up at her in confusion, one hand grabbing at his throbbing face as a stream of silver blood leaked from his nose.
"Huh?"
"I said. Shut. Up." She poked his forehead with each word. "You are impossible sometimes, Teacher. If you didn't run back then, we could've talked it out, but no, you just had to run again and make me search for you this time. At least Dienu helped me a little. You have no idea how long it took me to find you."
"Wh-"
"No. No talking. Just listening." She interrupted him and bent down, placing a finger on his chest and locked gaze with his featureless eyes. "That's not your call to make." When he was about to object, she powered on. "It's not. Wherever I will resent my immortality or not isn't for you to decide. You said it yourself, you didn't want it for me. But it happened anyway, so stop trying to beat yourself over it."
Avel flushed with anger, grinding his teeth. What could she possibly know!?
"That's easy for you to say! You are young. What in a hundred years? A thousand? Will you be so nonchalant about it, huh!?"
"Then that will be my problem!" She snapped before calming herself down forcibly. "Stop taking responsibility for everything bad that happens in the world."
"You think my blessing didn't change you?" He asked, incredulous.
"So what?" She asked, her sharp voice cutting like a sharp blade. "Would I be better off dead, then? Because that's what would happen otherwise."
"…"
She stepped back, exhaling deeply. "I'm glad I met you, Teacher. You saved me, again and again, and I'm grateful for that. I never thought you didn't help me enough. I'm sure nobody you ever helped cursed you for it later, and even if they did, that's their problem. But don't take their every burden on yourself."
He tried to hold on to his righteous anger, but the wrath drained from him and his heart shook with pain, the void in his chest swallowing everything. Scathach's aura shined like a brilliant star, with hope and determination, the shadows now gone. That invisible light chased away his every excuse, forcing him to face the truth.
So he should've let them die? Suffer alone? Cador's face flashed in his mind. His and countless others. He hated watching them disappear, but he couldn't chain them, too. He knew that, but it didn't lessen the pain anyway. That's why it was easier to just be 'Avel', a selfish fairy that didn't care for the lives of humans, only if they kept struggling and advancing.
"It's… it's not that easy, Scathach."
"Maybe." She acknowledged his feeble attempts at clinging to his blissful ignorance. "But you have to live for yourself, too. You can't go through your life only worrying about other people."
"And be selfish like a fairy?"
Wasn't that the problem right now?
"Then be selfish. Not as a fairy, but as yourself."
… as yourself, huh? He closed his eyes, focusing inward, toward the center of his being where the manifestation of his soul resided. The ever-shifting sword of gold and iron, although right now it was only gold. The iron was still there, just under the surface, and since Dienu met him in Avalon, it was trying to resurface. Now, Avel reached for it, for his heart he buried there.
Scathach's words reminded him of the day he created Eternal Forge. He declared himself then. A poem that described his life, a vow to the World itself. He knew the words, and even if he would never speak them again, they were etched into the foundation of his being.
But however immortal he was…
'Utterly alone I forge my steel, under a mountain of swords.'
… it didn't mean he was unchanging.
He was still 'alone', no other like him existed, but he was becoming to learn that it was the same for everyone, no matter if they were unique existences like him or just one of the hundreds of millions of humans in the world. Each one was different, shaped by their experiences and bonds. What mattered was staying true to himself and not trying to be something he was not. And no matter how much easier it would sometimes be, he wasn't a simple silver fairy.
And as Scathach said, his 'mountain' didn't need to be so large. Staying true to himself didn't mean he had to carry the burdens of everyone he helped. Some 'swords' didn't need to join his 'mountain'. People were strong enough to carry their own 'swords', their own burdens. He simply had to trust in them. It didn't mean he wouldn't still help them if he could. He just won't blame himself for every time they stumble, for every time his help wasn't enough.
Iron bled into the gold, and Shirou's heart seized with pain as frozen emotions flowed through him again.
He opened his golden eyes, meeting the crimson gaze of his student.
"Hi, Scathach." He said with a crooked smile. "And sorry. I… was stupid."
"You were, Teacher."
She said so, but still embraced him. Shirou leaned into her touch, hugging her back. A lock of fiery red hair fell over his eye and his smile turned a bit more relaxed. Good. He was back to normal again. He tried to move his tail, but thankfully it wasn't there anymore. How he didn't notice his body changing so much, he had no idea.
But he knew 'Avel' was still there. His fairy side wasn't something possible to discard, after all. It was a part of him, just as 'Shirou' was. The name he claimed on the very first day in Faery now represented his fairy nature, and it long became an integral part of his being. He could say he 'was' Avel, and it wouldn't be a lie anymore. It wasn't for some time now. Yet he kept referring to himself as 'Shirou' in his mind, because he still didn't want to lose that link to his distant hometown.
It was a small, heh, selfish wish. To one day walk those streets again. A small hope just for himself.
The sound of breaking glass brought them back to the present. The barrier that contained the disgusting man shattered, exposing a panting figure with a black sword in hand. When he spotted Scathach, however, his posture straightened and a happy smile bloomed on his face.
"My goddess!"
Shirou glanced at his student and lifted one eyebrow. Goddess? What was Scathach doing exactly when he was off hiding in Avalon? She noticed his questioning look and grimaced slightly, but her attention was on the man. No matter, she can tell him later. He focused on the man again, and even when he was 'Shirou' and not 'Avel', he still found this creature disgusting. A human with a rotting soul, forever locked out of time, sacrificing his very humanity for a flawed immortality. Disgusting. Scathach's aura, however, was shining with pity instead of disgust.
"Duleanbh …"
The man's, Duleanbh's, face lit in bliss as if that single acknowledgment of his existence was the greatest gift he ever received.
"Yes, my goddess! It's your humble servant, Duleanbh."
"… you were never my servant, Duleanbh. I didn't save you just so you would serve me like a slave."
"That may be so, my goddess," Duleanbh continued without losing his smile. "But you saved my life and gave me purpose. It was hard, but I did my best to repay you. I hope my gifts were suitable. I tried to send you as many as I could, but even when I got an opportunity to change myself, to reach a fraction of your greatness, it was impossible to even approach your splendor."
Shirou didn't like how this conversation was going. The 'gifts' this thing was talking about couldn't be anything good. Judging by Scathach's increasingly turbulent aura, he wasn't the only one. There was a story there, but Shirou didn't interrupt. It was his student affair, and he had no right to interfere, no matter how repulsive he found the man.
"I…" Scathach appeared to struggle for words, her aura in turmoil before settling on determined regret, a strange combination. "I'm sorry, Duleanbh."
The man tilted his head at the sudden apology, but his smile remained fixed. Even when Scathach lifted her hand and every ghoul in sight toppled over and the tortured souls caged in those rotting bodies sank into the shadows, Duleanbh's smile never wavered. He seemed to trust Scathach implicitly and take her every action as correct, even when it took his thralls away from him. He didn't flinch or move away when Scathach approached him and speared his heart in one smooth motion, killing him.
"Ahh… my goddess final… blessing…"
He died with that same smile, his last words full of bliss and happiness, and his aura radiating contentment until his last moment.
Shirou frowned. It was disturbing to see someone accept his death so easily. That was… wrong. It went against everything he loved in humans. They should never accept their end so easily, no matter how wretched their souls were. Humans should always try to move forward, advance, until their last second.
Shaking his head, Shirou walked up to his student. He didn't need his Eyes to know this wasn't easy on her. Scathach was staring at the smiling corpse, not moving a single muscle. He didn't know their relationship, but she would tell him if she wanted to. Shirou put his hand on her shoulder, extending the offer to listen and comfort her.
She smiled at him, a wan thing full of bitterness and gratitude, before turning towards the mansion.
"… I'm fine, Teacher. Let's deal with the other one."
Ah, yes. He almost forgot about Deitra.
The young girl was still there, sitting with her back against the cold stone wall and watching everything that unfolded with wide eyes. Awe and fear filled her aura, although fear was taking over now. Yeah, maybe talking about 'dealing' with her wasn't the best choice of words on Scathach's part. Especially after she effortlessly executed the man Deitra struggled to survive against.
"Don't worry, Deitra," Shirou reassured the girl. "You're safe now."
"Uh.. t-that's… great, um, I… didn't know you're that Avel. You were all… silver. And I heard nothing, definitively!" She blurted, looking between him and Scathach. "Don't take my soul, please?"
All right, it was getting weird. Apparently, Deitra knew about him beforehand, too. Somehow. He glanced at his student beside him but found no answer there. She was back to her 'ice queen' persona she used whenever she didn't want to deal with a particularly annoying courtier.
"Ah, yes, that. You summoned me at a… bad time, let's say. Sorry about that. And we won't hurt you. No, seriously." He added after seeing she didn't believe him at all. "Scathach, can you heal her, please?"
"He speaks the truth, girl." Scathach pitched in for the first time as she traced a series of runes over Deitra's injuries. "If I wanted to take your soul, I would've already done so. I'm here for Avel. Whatever pact you two have is between you alone. Act as if I'm not here at all."
"That's… thank you, my goddess."
There was that word again. Shirou prodded Scathach's shoulder with a wisp of magical energy to take her attention and to mask his voice so that Deitra wouldn't hear him.
"Goddess?"
Scathach's shoulders slumped minutely and her aura flickered with exasperation.
"Later."
Shirou nodded and let it go for now. He focused on Deitra again, noting that she still looked at his student with awe and fear. She didn't believe Scathach's assurances at all.
The girl still held onto that black sword. Or rather, the red gem that mirrored that sword. In Shirou's Fairy Eyes, the sword and the gem overlaid each other; a single object in two states simultaneously, a trick of Perspective. Much like his Eternal Forge. It was certainly a surprise to stumble upon that thing there. He last saw it on his first day in Faery, when Bihev sealed his ability to 'steal' his weapons, and later Shirou almost forgot it even existed. Now that he could properly 'See', he was able to understand how Bihev did what he did.
The gem contained a part of his soul. The piece of his soul in the gem wasn't actually detached from the greater rest, it was just… 'disconnected' from it, for the lack of another word. It was the same trick of Perspective that allowed it to function as it did. Because it was still technically a part of Shirou's soul, just outside of it, it was affected when he created Eternal Forge, allowing it to store a 'record' in its own minuscule Domain. But because it was so small, it could only hold a single 'record' at a time, and each time it copied something, the previous 'record' got overwritten. Yet it still retained his original ability to 'record' any weapon, not just his own.
The problem was, it didn't fit Shirou's greater soul anymore, despite still being a part of it. The domain in the gem differed slightly from Eternal Forge, and even if it was technically still a part of the greater whole, it was impossible to properly absorb it back. It was inherently intertwined with the ability to record any weapon, but not the physical counterparts. He wasn't sure what would happen if he tried, but he was afraid it would be nothing good. And he was wary of messing with his soul more than he needed. He had enough problems with it after the recent 'silver' incident. Not to add, he wasn't even sure if he could do anything to absorb it. The simple red gem appeared completely mundane to his senses, it was only thanks to his Fairy Eyes and the fact that it was his soul inside that he deduced that much.
"Deitra, I promised to help you escape the mansion, but in the end, it was nothing more than a cruel fancy. I could blame my 'silver' status for that, but it doesn't change the fact that you almost died for my entertainment. I'm truly sorry for that. You didn't deserve it."
She really didn't. He clearly remember the time he was 'Silver', and he didn't like it much. Being free of conscience was great and all, but it wasn't so pretty when he had to face the consequences of his actions. He did the bare minimum to help the girl on purpose, just to see her struggle and overcome adversity, because humans were the most beautiful at those times. Now it only made him feel like an asshole.
"Um, you technically did help me get out, so… it's fine?"
Shirou could see that it wasn't really 'fine', Deitra's aura was tinged with anger and bitter resignation. She probably didn't want to show she resented his actions now that a 'goddess' stood before her, but almost dying and being repeatedly misled and cheated must've been upsetting. He didn't blame her, and it only made the ugly feeling in his stomach worse.
"It's not. Your summoning helped me more than you can imagine, so I'm in your debt. The deal is off. You can keep the gem. It's a powerful artifact, so it will help you in the future." She already knew how to use it more or less, and the rest shouldn't be hard to figure out. Leaving it with her may not be his best idea, but he owed her, and if Shirou was unable to do anything with the piece of his soul trapped there, he doubted anyone weaker than Bihev could. "But even that isn't enough."
"No!" Deitra almost shouted with wide eyes. "It's fine, Avel. Rally. Let's just call it even."
"Nonsense. I caused you a lot of suffering, so let's say I owe you. When you need help next time, summon me again, and I'll help you out."
"… alright."
The sitting girl looked like she wanted to protest, but she accepted Shirou's generous offer in the end. She kept glancing at Scathach and at the brightening sky, probably worried about more undead, Shirou supposed. Silly girl, he doubted any were left after Scathach did her thing.
They talked for a bit longer, mostly to make sure Deitra would be fine before her guardians returned, but he could tell she was increasingly uncomfortable and paranoid about their presence, so Shirou and Scathach soon left the girl alone.
"So… goddess?"
Scathach sighed, her aura tinged with annoyance, but she continued to inscribe runes on a large, flat stone. They had stopped a short distance from Deitra's house, on one of the many mountains that dotted these parts. Shirou sat on a small ledge, watching the sun slowly rise over the forests of Ireland as his student worked. She apparently had an easier way of returning to her home than reenacting their journey from Ireland to Skye.
"I'm not. But… it took me almost fifty years to find you, Teacher."
"Ugh. Again, I'm sorry."
"You should be. It wasn't easy to leave the Land of Shadows on my own, and the less said about Skye afterward, the better. Anyway, I wasn't exactly subtle in my search. I didn't know if you returned to Faery or just hid in the human world, so I asked about you everywhere. From druids and mages to fairies and even Aelf's villages. And while many knew of you, nobody could tell me where to find you, so I ended up traveling all over the isles and even parts of the mainland. And, well, you remember what that woman in the Land of Shadows told you about me and the shadows?"
"… that you were a beacon for them or something?"
"Yes, that. And I still am. Wherever I go, ghosts follow me as shadows, pooling at my feet until I return to the Land of Shadows, where they can stay on their own. But the longer I linger in the human world, the more ghosts follow me, until the effect becomes visible, inky shadows writhing at my feet. And even regular people can see them, not just the phantasmals or mages. So rumors started I'm some kind of goddess of death, roaming the lands and gathering the souls of the departed warriors, leading them to the afterlife. They aren't wrong, technically, but it's still annoying. It didn't help when Dead Apostles started to appear lately."
"Is that what that disgusting…" Shirou paused when he noticed Scathach's aura color with regret. No matter how repulsive that man was, his student had some connection to him, so Shirou held back on his personal opinions for now. "Duleanbh, was?"
Scathach spear paused for a moment but soon resumed tracing runes in the stone.
"Yes. A vampire. An undead human that feeds on blood and is vulnerable to sunlight. They can also turn other beings into undead thralls, like the ghouls you saw. I'm not sure where they come from, but they are becoming more common. And I have an… unfortunate power interaction with them, let's say. My domain over 'shadows', which are basically just souls of the deceased, trump Dead Apostles's control, so I can simply command the souls trapped in those decaying bodies to leave, 'killing' them instantly.
"… and you probably did the whole 'thing' where you rip the souls out of the undead with a mere gesture where people could see you one too many times, and thus, 'The Goddess of Death and Shadows' was born."
"More or less." Scathach nodded. "That's how I met Duleanbh, actually. He was just a boy I saved in a village overrun with undead. I…" She stopped her work, turning to look Shirou in the eyes, uncertainty and regret swirling in her crimson gaze. "Should I have done more for him? I left him at the neighboring village and didn't think more of it. Do you think he would be alive if I did what you did for me?"
"… didn't you just tell me to be more selfish? To let others make their own decisions and carry their own burdens?"
"…"
"Do you regret killing him?"
"… no. I barely even recognized him to begin with, and if he saw me as 'the Goddess of Death', then his 'gifts' were undeniably human souls. Dead Apostles aren't known for their kindness, and you saw how many ghouls he had. Each one was an innocent human he killed."
"Then mourn the boy you saved in that village, not the monster that you had to put down. It may be hypocritical coming from me, but don't agonize over every mistake you had ever made, or you will end up, well, probably not 'silver', but hidden away somewhere, in a realm removed from the greater world, alone and isolated for all eternity."
And Shirou saw it many times, in many stages. From his own struggles, to Yu's painful anger, to Bihev's self-imposed isolation. Some dealt with it differently, like Vivian and Dienu, but they too bore the scars of ages, however hidden behind the mask of carelessness.
He didn't want it for his student, but she was right in the end; he had no right to impose his view of immortality on her. And while he may like to act like a wise teacher from time to time, the truth was they were both quite young yet, not even half a millennium old. His views will probably change again in time, but, well, Shirou wasn't the brightest, so he will probably make stupid mistakes and form stupid opinions, but at least Scathach will be there to whack some sense into his thick skull.
"Is that why you think immortality is a curse?"
"In part. A situation like the one with Duleanbh will probably repeat as long as you keep living in the human world. To live is to make connections and bonds, and when you outlive everyone you care about, it gets harder to keep going. And your mistakes and regrets just keep piling up. But you aren't a fairy, Scathach, so maybe it will be different for you."
It wasn't a satisfying answer, he knew that, and judging by Scathach's aura, she didn't like it either, but that was how he saw it.
Scathach returned to her work with a thoughtful expression, but soon her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Wait. Teacher, you say you don't know how immortality will affect me as I'm a human, but… weren't you also one? That woman said that was the reason your blessing worked as it did, and you didn't refute her. So…?"
"Ah, you remember that. Yes, I was originally a human."
"So it's true." Scathach eyes widened in surprise. "Why did you never tell me before?"
"I didn't keep it a secret on purpose. It just never came up, I guess."
He brushed that revelation off, but his student seemed even more interested now. She kept glancing at him even when her spear traced more runes on the stone with mechanical precision.
"Can you tell me more?" She asked after a moment.
"It's nothing that interesting, to be honest, but if you want to know…" Shirou looked up at the brightening sky, considering how much to share. "… I was born in the town of Fuyuki, in the lands far to the east, on the other side of the world, almost. My childhood was… not that different from yours."
Shirou ignored how Scathach's aura colored with pity and sorrow. It was long ago, and he made his peace with it, but he supposed it changed little for his student; she knew that pain well.
"I lost my parents in a great fire that destroyed a portion of my hometown, and the magus that saved my life adopted me in the aftermath. I remember little from before that. You could say I was born in those flames for how much of 'me' was left afterward, but… never mind, it's long in the past. My adoptive father wasn't the best of parents, but then again, I probably wasn't the best of sons, but we were happy. At least I hope he was. He passed away a few short years later."
"…"
"It's fine, Scathach," Shirou said when she sat beside him, hugging him from the side. "It was a long time ago." He patted her head. "I did some stupid thing after that, and one of them almost got me killed. Even now I'm not sure how I became what I am today. The last thing I remember was a giant fireball descending on my dying body, and then I woke up as a fairy in Avalon."
"… you died?" Scathach asked with a horrified expression.
"No, I'm pretty sure I didn't actually die. I still had my bloodstained clothes on when I woke up, so I was transported and transformed at the same time, somehow. Still, no idea how. But that's unimportant. That day I met Dienu, and she helped me a lot to get used to being a fairy. And after that, well, nothing much really happened. I stayed in Nibelung, learned blacksmithing, and eventually made my way back to the human world. Then I met you."
"I feel like you left a lot out, Teacher."
He smiled at her unsatisfied face, patting her again. He did leave out a lot, but most of it was details. His struggles with Bihev's task, the three hundred years of idling in Nibelung, and his adventures in Faery. But for all the centuries he spent in the realm of fairies, he didn't really 'live' properly until he returned to the human world. Or at least it felt like it.
"Maybe." He hopped off the ledge, smirking at his disgruntled student, dispersing the heavy atmosphere. "Now enough about me. Did you finish already?"
She gave him a long look but let it go and stepped into the center of the intricately engraved runic circle. It was beyond Shirou's meager knowledge of runes. Despite learning a bit from Scathach, he wasn't that good, and this array of hundreds of interlinked sigils was far above his understanding.
"… fine. It's done. I only need to activate it."
He stepped to the side and waved her on. Scathach inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and released a stream of magical energy into her work, making the runes glow with various colors. His student was a human, and while the amount of magical energy she could use was impressive for one, it was still far from what a fairy like Shirou could do. And yet it didn't take long for the air to distort and tremble with how much magical energy radiated from the circle. He glanced at the writhing inky blackness at her feet; it seemed like her domain over 'shadows' was more than just a burden. The mass of incorporeal ghosts gladly offered their reserves to the 'goddess' they followed, feeding Scathach with an almost endless amount of energy.
Soon, the runes blazed with almost blinding brilliance, and with a snap of freezing air, a large black gate rose out of the ground. A familiar gate, in fact.
"Gate of Skye."
Scathach words were heavy with power as she completed the spell, and the gate opened with a groan, revealing absolute darkness within. Even his Eyes couldn't show him what hid in there, but the design of the gate was almost a perfect replica of the one in Scathach's castle, so it wasn't hard to guess where they led to.
She entered the gate without another word, and Shirou followed. When he passed the threshold, the familiar sensation of crossing between the Faery and the human world enveloped him. It lasted for only a few seconds, but it was intriguing. Scathach spell was more than simple teleportation, it would seem. But before he could analyze it further, he found himself in front of the Castle of Skye.
But something was… off.
While the castle was as he remembered it, the sky above was a featureless gray, and the air was tinged with a subtle scent of death. And despite the lack of direct sunlight, the shadows were sharp and perfectly black.
He frowned, "This isn't Skye."
"No, it isn't," Scathach said with an amused smile. "This is the Land of Shadow. I just did some… remodeling. If I had to spend a lot of time here, I wasn't going to do it by sitting in the middle of an empty plain."
"Seriously? So, you rebuilt your castle here?"
"Not rebuilt. It's a copy made by magecraft, although it's real enough. I never actually use the one back at Skye anymore. There's no reason to."
Shirou hummed in understanding, but it was still unexpected. To think Scathach would abandon the human world… wait.
"But what about your students?" he asked with a bit of concern. She was searching for him, sure, but she wasn't a fairy detached from the rest of the world. She had her responsibilities. "What about Skye?"
"Some ambitious warriors still seek me out, but I'm a lot more strict now, admitting maybe one disciple a decade. About Skye, well… I abdicated."
"… what?" Shirou asked, dumbstruck at her nonchalant answer.
Abdicated!? But she was the Queen of Skye! That's what she was, what defined her for most of her life! Shirou stared at the purple-haired woman, but her aura didn't waver even a little, her eyes free of regrets.
She really gave up her throne willingly.
"Teacher, I never planned on being some immortal god-queen. Even stretching it as far as I did wasn't the best idea in hindsight. I did my best for my people for almost ninety years, sacrificing a lot along the way, and even if things weren't that great near the end, I tried my best. I may have been born to rule, but it doesn't mean I have to carry the burdens of my kingdom for eternity. It's the same thing I told you, only on a larger scale. My people needed to learn how to walk on their own, make their own mistakes, and fix their own problems."
He was never a ruler, so he couldn't gainsay her here, but it was still strange to think she would let someone else lead her people after all she sacrificed for them.
"Who even succeeded you, Scathach? As far as I'm aware, you never had children."
Scathach snorted, amusement dancing in her aura to Shirou's confusion.
"You wouldn't recognize his name, but it was one of Aife's grandsons. Heh, I guess she ended up in control of Skye, after all. In a way."
Shirou sat down on the familiar stone bench, his head swirling. It was just a short fifty years that he was gone, and so much had changed. Aife's grandson? He couldn't imagine how that arrogant girl's offspring ended up with enough claim to Skye for Scathach to appoint him the king. With no hard feeling even, it would seem.
"Any more revelations I missed?" He asked warily.
"Hmm." Scathach hummed, a finger on her chin. "Nothing major. Besides the 'goddess' thing, the Skye new king, the Dead Apostles, the lack of disciples, and my new castle, the world kept going as it always did."
Placing his face in his palms, he exhaled deeply. Why did the human world change so rapidly? He knew the Age of Gods was near its end, but damn it, couldn't the humans slow down a little?
"Scathach, promise to stop me when I go 'silver' next time, please. I feel like I'm in a new world all over again. It's aggravating. If it keeps happening, I'll hide in Faery out of sheer annoyance."
"I promise, Teacher. You won't get away from me so easily next time." She nodded, taking his exasperated remark seriously. "Oh, and did you feel anything strange when we crossed the Gate? Lately, it seems like it's getting harder to open a passage."
He gave her a flat look. "… Scathach, you're killing me." Why did she keep telling him about these important things like it was just an afterthought? "You should mention these things first."
Shirou calmed down and focused on his senses, switching his Perspective and concentrating. It wasn't easy, as it basically meant staring at empty air and trying to peer into the underlying fabric of reality, but as a fairy, he was one of the few beings that could pull it off. Eternal Forge helped too, as it was inherently a thing of distorted reality. Still, after ten minutes of an intense staring contest with empty air, he wasn't sure if he knew what his student was talking about. It wasn't until he reached for his connection to Faery, drawing in a silver of its mana, that he noticed something.
The Land of Shadows was essentially a small, self-contained world. A dimension separate from the rest of reality, be it the human world or the Reverse Side of the World. If the woman who owned it before was truly a goddess, then it would make this pocked world some kind of Divine Authority. A final resting place where the god would retreat when the Age of Gods finally ended. Or something like that. Shirou wasn't an expert.
The important bit was, his connection with Faery was getting… not weaker, maybe, but more 'distant'. It didn't affect him in any way, but Shirou could tell he was slowly, very slowly, moving 'away' from Faery. Not in any particular direction, but more metaphysically. Now that its original owner was gone, the Land of Shadows slowly drifted apart from humanity, Scathach being its only link back. But his student was just a human, her Mystery was a fraction of its previous owner. A hundred Scathachs wouldn't stop the drift.
"The Land of Shadows is slowly drifting away from the human world." He finally said.
"Can we do something about it?" Scathach asked, her face showing concern.
He couldn't blame her. She was linked to this place, and if she didn't return here regularly, she would end up drowning in 'shadows' in the human world. And while the prospect of staying in this removed world would appeal to 'Avel', Shirou knew Scathach didn't want that.
"It's not an immediate problem. At this rate, it will take centuries before you can't cross over. Hopefully, we will find a solution before that happens."
"… I'm sure, Teacher."
"We will, Scathach." He repeated when he noticed the doubt in her voice. "In fact, that's what I'll focus on next. There has to be something out there that can help you."
She was still doubtful, her aura tinged with resignation, but it only increased Shirou's determination.
He won't fail her this time.
The red gem will in time be known as 'Eye of Avel' and 'The Counterblade'.
Technically, it would work. As a true goddess, she would be able to stop Land of Shadows drift. But it would be kind of pointless as the Age of Gods is ending, so she would've to retreat to LoS anyway.
Chapter 16 - Wanderer 6
Chapter 16 – Wanderer 6
Sometimes, Shirou wondered, it seemed like the World liked to mock him.
He already spent decades searching for a solution to Scathach's problem, and each time he found something that would work, it came with drawbacks that made it impossible to make use of, or pointless to even attempt. His first idea was to put Scathach in Avalon, preventing any 'shadow' from sticking to her. But as she told him, she didn't want to exchange one prison for another. He argued it would be different. He could still visit her there and so could other fairies, but his student wanted to stay in the human world in the end, and while Avalon was a beautiful wonder, a prison was still a prison. And so, they kept searching. Scathach explored possibilities with magecraft, seeking other mages for knowledge and advice, while Shirou roamed the human world and the Reverse Side for inspiration. He was a blacksmith, after all, one of the best in the world. If not the best. Bihev was always the one he compared himself to, but after the debacle with Midjinior, his opinion of the old Dwarf plummeted. The Great Father of the Forge may be thousands of years older than him, but it meant little if all he did was sleep his days away.
But for all his skill, Shirou had to admit there were weapons he couldn't recreate even now. Like the one resting in Avalon. Excalibur, a Divine Construct that couldn't be replicated with mere skill alone. It wasn't merely the question of the correct materials or ability, but circumstances and timing. The World itself helped forge that sword during its greatest time of need, and even if he was a fairy, a Nature Spirit, he couldn't bend the will of the World to his whim.
And the same applied to the one he was currently standing in front of.
In a remote corner of the Isles, away from human settlements, stood a great tower. A pillar of white stone, taller than any structure made by man, surpassing even the skyscrapers from Shirou's childhood. It had no doors or windows, just smooth stone blocks with barely any flourishes all the way to the top that tapered into a point.
Almost like that of a spear.
It wasn't a coincidence, because while it might look like a simple, albeit strange and incredibly tall, tower, Shirou's Fairy Eyes revealed it for what it truly was.
Rhongomyniad, a spear of light that connected the sky and earth, piercing the World like a giant nail, fastening the surface in place. Mana and Mystery radiated off it in an almost blinding manner, suffusing the lush surroundings in a veil of power. If he wasn't a fairy, simply approaching it would be enough to kill him. But there were no humans here, only nature. The tower should be visible from hundreds of miles away, but the natural bounded field kept it hidden, a barrier made from the will of the World itself.
Shirou basked in its glow, a content smile on his lips. It felt like home, but more. He looked down, where the base of the tower met the earth and switched his Perspective. Rhongomyniad was tall, impossibly so even, but that paled compared to how deep it went. The spear pierced into the innermost layers of the World, into the Reverse Side, and deeper still, into the heart of the Planet. He felt like he was standing on the lip of a cliff and taking one step meant his doom because even a fairy wouldn't survive the trip to the bottom, where the soul of the World resided.
Fascinated, Shirou looked deeper, trying to spot where the spear began. The distance was great, but laws of physics didn't exist here, only Will and Mystery. Finally, he found what he was looking for. The core of the Star, the heart of the Planet, the soul of the World. A well of infinite power, the source of the World's mana, glowing with the light of Creation, with concepts and meaning beyond the comprehension of even gods. His vision was filled with its entrancing sight, with colors that defied description, with potential so enormous that even from this distance he was nothing more than a speck of dust before the vastness of the ocean. Beautiful.
A sudden pang in his chest caused him to flinch and take a step back. Grimacing, Shirou shook his head and rubbed at the sore spot, at the small silver splotch that shimmered there.
That was stupid of him.
He focused on Eternal Forge, on the core of his soul, the ever-changing sword of gold and iron. The connection to Avalon that helped him free Scathach from the grip of that woman was still there. It was always there, even before that, but in his desperation, he abused and widened that link, until it spilled an endless amount of mana directly into his soul. And it never returned to normal. Even after he stopped being 'silver', it was still there. An infinity of mana at the tips of his fingers. He just needed to pull on it again. A simple twist of will away. Effortless. Enticing.
Terrifying.
And now it widened just a little more, a drop of silver spreading across Eternal Forge, the change reflecting as a silver dot on his body. It was all too easy to drink from that well and forget himself. Thankfully, the link did nothing unless he actively tried to pull too much mana at once, so it wasn't something he had to worry about. Usually.
He took another step away from the tower. It seemed Rhongomyniad was too much like his connection, and staring into the deepest parts of the World resonated with it. Avalon was a part of the Reverse Side, after all, and a region where the soul of the World was closest to the surface. Or rather, Avalon was the deepest part of the Reverse Side, just above the true core itself.
Still, Rhongomyniad was almost the perfect answer to the Land of Shadows drifting away from the human world. If he could somehow recreate it, and put it there, he would essentially nail it to the human world, stopping the drift.
The problem was… Rhongomyniad was a Divine Construct. Not just a Divine Construct, but one on the level of Excalibur, and Shirou was sure he couldn't replicate it.
But maybe he didn't have to. The Land of Shadows wasn't the human world or the Reverse Side, but just a small pocket dimension. He didn't need a spear on the level of Rhongomyniad, just something that worked similarly. It won't be easy, and probably take some time and effort, but it should be possible.
Although…
"… I'll need more steel for this," Shirou said, staring up at the enormous tower.
"You were right, Deitra. The tower was there."
The aging woman regarded Shirou for a few seconds before responding.
"… I see. That's good to hear. We couldn't break through that barrier, so you have my thanks for confirming our suspicions. I'm sure we'd never be able to get inside otherwise. You did us a great favor, Avel."
Shirou smiled brightly, completely ignoring the 'subtle' hint. "Sure, no problem. It turned out quite useful for me too, so don't worry about it."
The woman narrowed her eyes, her hand tightly gripping the hilt of an ornate sword at her hip.
They stood in the same room they first met, all those years ago, away from prying ears. Shirou changed little in that time, but Deitra went from an unsure and fearful teen to a confident woman with a spine of steel. A head of her family and a powerful magus. She wasn't old yet, despite the white in her hair, but she wasn't immortal, and after almost fifty years, her age started to show.
She saw right through his mask of obliviousness and wasn't afraid to give him a piece of her mind.
"Godsdamnit, Avel." Deitra finally said, exasperated, massaging the bridge of her nose as she glared at him. "When will you give up that favor? I have half of my household constantly watching their backs for hidden fairies by now. Do you have any idea how stressful it is to have the attention of the fair folk? And they won't relax no matter what I tell them!"
In truth, Shirou only held onto it for his amusement.
At first, he just wanted to help her out a little more out of guilt, but somewhere along the line, it turned into a game of dodging Deitra's attempts at calling in the favor. Now, whenever she summoned him or he found himself in the vicinity of her home, he played the role of an irritatingly dense fae, always finding a reason he still owed her.
And when she got like this, he made sure to have an escape route prepared.
His smile widened, a twinkle dancing in his golden eyes, and a thread of his magical energy coiled in the center of the room. Deitra noticed, of course, reaching to stop him, but she was too slow.
"Don't you dar--"
Her voice got cut out as Shirou disappeared in a swirl of golden particles, slipping into Avalon after tapping into the connection from his summoning decades ago. The link was faint and old, but the gates that have been opened once can be opened again, after all.
If only the Land of Shadows remained like this.
Walking through the 'streets' of Nibelung filled Shirou with nostalgia. The beaten earth trails were still the same as he remembered them. The tree-huts and occasional stone dwellings looked as they always did, although there may be more fairies than in the past.
"This place didn't change at all."
"Of course it didn't," a blue fairy floating beside him said. "Are you getting senile, Red? You were gone for maybe a couple hundred years. That's nothing."
Shirou sighed, throwing a weak glare at his old friend.
"Maybe. But it still feels strange after spending so much time in the human world. It makes me feel like it was all just a dream."
It wasn't a good feeling. Nibelung was his home for most of his life, and he knew it like the back of his hand. The stability of its unchanging nature was always something he appreciated. Now, it made his experiences in the human world feel… less real, somehow.
He shook his head, dismissing those ominous thoughts. Hopefully, he wouldn't be staying here all that long.
"Blue, for how long can you distract Bihev?"
She turned in midair to face him, her eyebrows rising inquisitively.
"Oh? What's this? Are you going to mess with him?"
"A little," Shirou admitted, a mischievous smile pulling at his lips. "It won't be anything bad, just…" He paused, his smile transforming into something decidedly nastier. "… a harmless prank."
Dienu stared at him in surprise. She knew he didn't get along with the old Dwarf, but usually, he wasn't one to indulge in cruelty, even with his enemies. But for Bihev, he'd make an exception. The small blue fairy seemed to notice Shirou's unusual attitude, and soon she mirrored his grin.
"Ha! If that's the case, then I'm up for it! It'll do good for that sloth to suffer a little. Maybe it'll make him leave that boring pit he calls his forge for once. I can't promise much, but with his laziness, you should have a few years to do whatever you need."
"That's long enough. Thanks, Blue."
Soon, they made their way into the mountain, passing by the familiar faces of Dwarves and other fairies. Shirou exchanged a few words with each one, most treating him as if he had never left, and from their perspective, he really did not. Most probably wouldn't even notice his absence if his departure wasn't what it was, with the dragon and all that. A few hundred years was just a short while in a life of a fairy, after all.
They split up, Dienu leaving to annoy Bihev, and Shirou continuing deeper into the mountain.
The familiar halls of Nibelung, glittering with colorful gems and veins of metals, stirred his heart. He missed this place. If not for Bihev, he would visit more often, if only to meet up with his old acquaintances, but the idea of dealing with the Dwarf was too much. He touched the wall as he walked, the rough rock and ores scraping at his palm. When he first arrived here, the depths of Nibelung were almost scary, the literal mountain of stone above his head a constant threat until he got used to it. Now, it was relaxing. Shirou submerged himself in that feeling, drinking in the mountain's mana, brushing against the blood of Faery itself, changing his surroundings with every step.
When he reached his old armory, he was surprised to see it still more or less intact. After the dragon attack, most of Nibelung was destroyed, a large part of his old forge and armory with it. He expected the mountain to reclaim that space, but it didn't do so. The enormous cavern that led to the smaller forge lost its artificial feel, turning into something more like a natural cavern, but when he knew what was there before, it was easy to see it for what it was. He walked in deeper, each step staining the ground in metals and minerals. Iron and gold, copper and tin, and everything in between. Glittering mithril and purple orichalcum, bluish adamantite and crimson cruthyl, all glowing with an inner light. Magical metals almost impossible to find in the human world, but here, in Faery, he simply willed them into existence. Precious jewels bloomed from the stone in a rainbow of hues around him, growing into clusters larger than his body. Each one would bankrupt a kingdom, but to fairies, they were just 'sparkly rocks'. Only after someone worked them into weapons or art they were worth anything.
His forge was almost as he last saw it. The broken anvil was still there, pieces scattered on the floor as if it all happened yesterday. Shirou looked around, noting the unhealed cracks in the walls and scorch marks. It was strange that Nibelung hadn't touched this place since he left. Armory, he could understand. It was a large space and was slowly being converted, but this small forge didn't change at all.
Was it his fault, somehow? This was where he created Eternal Forge, after all. Did the echo of that event still live in these walls?
Shirou sighed. It wasn't really important. He retrieved his blacksmithing hammer from Eternal Forge; the tool popping into his hand in a burst of golden-red flames. Whatever the case, it would make for a good starting point for his plan.
He channeled his will into the tool, wielding the full weight of his existence, his mystery. He hoped Dienu distracted Bihev enough.
"Well, time to get to work."
A few years later, Shirou found himself in another nostalgic situation, standing before Bihev with a crowd of fairies behind him. The main cavern of Nibelung was quiet for once, only the soft sound of falling lava from the central pillar broke the silence as all the fairy smiths gathered to watch the confrontation between the Great Father of the Forge and the Fairy of Fire and Iron.
"So that's what it was all about." The Great Father said, throwing an annoyed glare at Dienu, but his focus never wavered from the red-haired fae. "A cover for a thief sneaking into my home. And here I thought you were just nostalgic for my company. Shame, Dienu, shame."
The floating blue fairy blew him a raspberry in response and flew to sit on Shirou's shoulders. She may be a friend to both of them, but this time she sided with Shirou, and he gladly rubbed it in Bihev's face, smiling mockingly.
"That's rude, Bihev. It's not my fault you didn't notice I'm here. Besides, you never exiled me or anything, so don't act like I'm in the wrong."
"… so it may be, but now I'm reconsidering that decision. Every time we meet like this, it turns into a colossal mess. What is it this time? More Makra? Another dragon? Don't think I'll help you deal with one again."
"Oh?" Shirou raised his eyebrows. "That's rich coming from you. If I remember correctly, if not for me, that dragon would probably destroy the rest of Nibelung while you struggled to survive just it."
As unlikely as that may've been. The dragon was mighty, but Bihev was still a Great Father in the heart of his domain. Shirou doubted the old Dwarf would actually lose that fight, but well, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility, and that fact allowed him to point it out and annoy the giant fairy. A small, petty thing, but it warmed Shirou's heart to see Bihev scowl at the reminder.
The crowd of fairies backed him up. He saved many of them then, after all, and when he asked them to help him in his 'prank' in return, they easily agreed.
"Yeah, yeah, Bihev. Don't be so hard on Master Avel. If not for him, a lot of us wouldn't be here today.
"Hear, hear."
"They are right, you know?" Dienu said. "I wasn't there, but taking care of a single wyrm shouldn't leave Nibelung a smoking crater, so if not for Red, it would be much worse. Not to mention you can be an asshole sometimes, and taking advantage of this helpful idiot was too much."
"… why am I suddenly the villain here? I don't keep you lot here by force, so don't act like it's my responsibility to look after you."
"Except you did keep me here by force," Shirou pointed out. "And even if that dragon came here for your treasure only, it still forced me to risk my life for you. You've to admit it."
Well, technically, Shirou didn't have to fight the dragon, but if he didn't, it could've turned on him, anyway, so he would risk his life one way or another.
The Dwarf wasn't outright evil, no more than a regular fairy, and Shirou bet on that fact, and the backing of Dienu and the rest of the smiths to force Bihev into admitting he owed him a little. If only so they'd stop annoying him.
Bihev glared at him for a few seconds longer before sighing and rubbing at his face.
"Fine, whatever. Let's get it over with so I can go to sleep in peace again. What do you want, Avel?"
Internally, Shirou celebrated with glee, but outwardly, his smile only widened a little. It was a good thing Fairy Eyes didn't work on other fairies, or Bihev's would be much more wary right now.
"Not much. Just some materials from the mountain. The human world lacks the metals of the fairy realm, and some projects I'm working on I can't finish with mundane steel."
"Really? That's it?" Bihev asked, raising an eyebrow. "You could've done that anyway in Faery. You didn't have to come here specifically."
He was right. Faery twisted the environment into whatever a fairy needed, and if Shirou stayed at a random piece of land for long enough, it would turn simple soil into materials he needed in time. But time was the problem here. Shirou didn't have a few centuries to sit in on his ass while Faery worked its magic.
"Sure. But that'd take a lot longer. Your presence speeds the process up quite a lot. You know that."
Bihev shook his head. "You and your lack of patience. You really should take things slower, Avel. Sleep on them for a century or two, or you'll keep getting into trouble. But fine. If that's what will make you all leave me in peace, then take as much as you want."
With that permission granted, Shirou closed his eyes, concentrating on Eternal Forge. His Domain was large, hundreds of feet in diameter, but it wasn't enough to cover the entire chamber. It didn't matter.
Eternal Forge could store every weapon he ever created, as long as they were within its range. No matter if only a part of the weapon was within that range.
And no matter how large those weapons were.
He pulled, and golden-red flames illuminated the vast cavern as a good third of the mountain turned into fire. Entire swaths of the mountainside, miles in length, crumbled as the giant swords hidden just underneath a thin layer of stone entered Eternal Forge. The rumble of collapsing rocks reverberated through the cavern, the ground shaking just a little as the dust of debris slowly settled down. Soon, only a ribcage of stone pillars supported the far ceiling, the sunlight of Faery shining on the deep interior of Nibelung for the second time in as many centuries.
Of the massive weapons Shirou forged over the last three years, nothing remained.
It wasn't easy, but with the help of other smiths, he carved tunnels throughout Nibelung, turning the material into the minerals and metals he needed. After the initial setup was done, he carefully forged the mountain into giant swords, spears, and maces. He wouldn't dare use those shoddy blades in battle, and it would require a true giant to wield them besides, but he just needed Eternal Forge to acknowledge them as his creations. The shape didn't matter, so he made sure to create extensions from each into the central cavern so he could store them all in one go.
Bihev stared dumbly at his reduced home, and Shirou cherished the shocked look on that face. A shame cameras were a long time away, he would love to have a photo of this moment.
"…"
"What?" Shirou asked innocently, barely restraining the glee in his voice. "You said I can take as much as I want."
The old Dwarf turned to him, a vein pulsing on his forehead. He did not look happy.
"… out," Bihev said, pointing towards the exit gates, although now there was not much point in them as to each side was just empty space.
"What's that? Out? Well, yes, we can indeed see the outside, Bihev. No need to point out the obvious."
"Out, damned thief!" The old Dwarf thundered. "You stole from me when you first stepped into my home, and now you steal my very home, too! I'll be damned if I let you stay another minute. Out!"
"How rude. I only did what you told me to do. "
Unfortunately, Shirou affronted look didn't sway the Great Father. Even without seeing his aura, the red-haired fairy was sure the Dwarf was getting truly mad, and as therapeutic as it was, Shirou had to leave or risk Bihev's wrath. Actually fighting with the Dwarf wasn't something he wanted to do, as citizens of Nibelung would be the ones to suffer in their clash.
So he left, waving goodbye to the smiths and Dienu, the small blue fairy staying behind to calm Bihev down. He probably won't be able to return to Nibelung for quite some time, but it didn't put a damper on Shirou's mood.
With the issue of forging materials solved for the foreseeable future, Shirou returned to the human world, continuing his search for solutions.
Unfortunately, he didn't stumble upon outright answers like Rhongomyniad anymore, but he didn't give up. The spear itself was something he kept returning to, spending years at a time studying the Divine Construct and attempting to recreate it. It was a good thing he had a mountain's worth of magical metals stored in Eternal Forge because he failed so many times that a lot of it turned into useless slag.
He met with Scathach every few years, comparing their findings and catching up in general. Now that she didn't spend most of her time searching for him, she could live her life however she wished, only returning to the Land of Shadows when too many ghosts clung to her. And yet, she still treated the castle in the Land of Shadows as her home. Sometimes, Shirou wondered if she already gave up on stopping the drift, so she didn't bother making a home in a human town or village.
Whatever the case may be, he wouldn't give up. One way or another, Scathach won't be forced to endure eternity on her own.
It was on one of his wanderings that he noticed a particular scent. An unpleasant and familiar scent.
It led him to a human village littered with dozens of corpses. In the light of the full moon, the blood-splattered houses and streets shone with unnatural light, the bright red ichor still fresh and dripping. It was eerily silent. He couldn't sense any survivors, and Eternal Forge was large enough to cover the entire settlement. Every inhabitant of this place was dead, men, women, and children, yet there were barely any signs of battle, just some gouge marks on a few house walls. Shirou ignored the unpleasant stench, focusing on the magical signature, but still inspected some of the dead.
Most were ripped apart by claws and fangs, but some had traces of magecraft on them. The wounds themselves were grisly, as if whatever killed tried to destroy their bodies and not just kill them.
His face grim, he followed the magical signature, leaving the village end and entering a nearby forest. There, the marks of a battle were much more visible. Broken trees and upturned earth, an occasional corpse or body part strewed amidst the foliage. His suspicions about the source of all this senseless death were confirmed when he spotted something moving further into the woods.
A girl, barely an adult, crawled towards him. Or rather, the upper half of a girl, the unfortunate child missing everything below her ribcage.
She was certainly dead, her eyes milky white and skin almost gray from blood loss, but she was still moving. A ghoul. An undead thrall of a Dead Apostle. A golden-blue sword stabbed into her head, the blade appearing in a puff of golden-red flames inches above her, putting the girl out of her misery. As fast as the weapon appeared, it disappeared, replaced by a wave of fire, turning her remains into ash.
Shirou stared at the blackened patch of earth for a few seconds before taking off again.
The scent was getting stronger, the vampire was not far away, and the signs of battle were even more apparent. Dead animals now joined the occasional remains of a ghoul. Deers and bears, wolves, and even eagles lay dead on the forest floor, some still entangled with ghouls they fought against.
He finally found the Dead Apostle in a small clearing. And not one, but two of them. Although one was already dead, his body ripped apart. The other one was not much better off, covered in wounds and barely conscious. Shirou could sense more magical energy in a mundane human, so exhausted was the vampire. Still, he noticed the fairy entering the clearing and turned to face the new threat, his weary red eyes steady.
Standing at the treeline, Shirou regarded the man silently. He made for a pitiful sight, wounded as he was and leaning on the flank of the last surviving beast, a great black bear. But even the animal was slowly dying, blood pooling under it.
"… a fairy? Why…"
The vampire fell silent when an array of powerful swords appeared around him, sharp tips inches from his skin.
"Indeed, thing," Shirou said, his voice cold. He didn't care for this human, but the blades didn't fall. He had questions still. "Were you the one who slaughtered that village?"
"… no."
He wasn't lying. Curious. Shirou met only a few Dead Apostles since the day Deitra summoned him, but they all reveled in death, turning entire settlements into undead thralls. Their disgusting immortality granted them great resilience and strength of magic. And an ego to match, too. Only when their spells failed to harm him, and his swords obliterated whatever defenses they had, they found conscience. But he never met one who was actually innocent or had a good heart.
"So it was the other one, I assume?"
The vampire grimaced, glancing at the dismembered body.
"Yes. My 'brother'. We had an… disagreement over that, and you can see how it ended."
"Quite a disagreement that must've been. But 'brother'? You don't look related."
Admittingly, the dead vampire was butchered almost beyond recognition, but the blond hair and sharp features amidst the blood contrasted with the black of this man. Not to mention their signatures were nothing alike, even if the dead one was quickly fading. Shirou had a hard time believing they were actually blood-related.
"We had the same 'father'. The True Ancestor that turned us. Not that we had much of a choice…"
"True Ancestor?" Shirou asked, the swords moving slightly as an incentive to answer.
The man eyed the weapons warily, but with how weak he was right now, he probably knew Shirou could easily kill him, so he just sighed and sat on the bloody ground, the bear following suit and placing his large head on the vampire's lap.
"How much do you know about Dead Apostles?"
"Not much, I admit. Just that you are immortal and can create undead, your souls are rotting away, and by large, most of you are an unpleasant sort better off dead. The few I had the displeasure of meeting didn't live long enough to change my mind. Not that they tried anyway."
The man laughed, his lips twisting into a bitter smile, ignoring the implied threat.
"That's more than most, I guess. And all true, too. But we don't just appear out of nowhere. We are turned into Dead Apostles by True Ancestors, spirits of nature. Like fairies, actually, but, eh, not really. Their immortality is a step above ours, but while we need to drink blood to survive, their bloodlust is just a mental thing. They can go without, but it gives them a power boost."
Immortal spirits of nature with blood as a focus? Wait, was Yu a True Ancestor all along!?
Ignoring Shirou's internal freakout, the man continued.
"At least that's what I learned over the years. Most of us aren't high on the ladder, even if some like to pretend they are more important than they truly are. We are disposable minions at best, and emergency food at worst."
Well, that was… pitiful. But it didn't tell Shirou why these two vampires fought to the death.
"I see. But why did you kill him?"
The vampire paused for a moment, his smile slipping. The dying bear rumbled a whine, prompting the man to pet it.
"… he wanted to create an army of ghouls and gift it to our 'father'. Why? I can… guess. But that was too far. I never wanted to become this blood-sucking monster, but fine, I was unlucky and it happened. At least I didn't end up as a mindless ghoul. But killing thousands of innocents… and for what? A sliver of interest? A scrap of attention? … but he wouldn't budge, and it escalated. And, well, here we are. Friends of a hundred years killing each other…"
Shirou let his weapons return to Eternal Forge. As much as this man disgusted him, he couldn't bring himself to kill him. While the Dead Apostles he encountered so far were wretched monsters, throwing their humanity away for power and to live a bit longer, he couldn't fault this one for the same. After all, Shirou wasn't that different. They were both cursed with immortality against their will, their souls forever changed. It wasn't the same, but he would be a hypocrite to kill him over it.
No matter how repulsive the vampire's soul was.
"No execution after all, huh?"
"I don't kill without reason."
"You know I'm not that innocent, right? I'm still a Dead Apostle. I need to drink blood regularly, and that usually means someone has to die."
"Do you want to die? Because if you try to kill an innocent human right in front of me, I won't show you mercy. But I'm not a hero that tries to save everyone in the world. I won't murder a soldier that is doing his job, nor do I seek every wild animal that ever killed a human. And you're not lost yet. You're not a monster. The fact you stopped your 'brother' is proof enough."
"…"
Shirou turned to leave. He had a village to bury, and this depressed vampire wasn't a problem right now. It might be naïve to let a Dead Apostle live, but he didn't want to become someone who murders people for factors outside their control or just because of what they are.
"I hope I won't have to find you in the future," Shirou said as he left the clearing.
A maw of sharp steel closed with a metallic screech of grinding steel, thousands of summoned swords scraping against each other, flames and sparks forming a horizontal blazing line in the middle as Eternal Forge fed the inferno. The Dead Apostle that stood before Shirou a second ago struggled for a moment, but magecraft failed to find purchase against the fairy's Mystery, fangs slid off the cold steel, and the vampire soon turned into mincemeat and then ash.
Shirou sighed with irritation. This was the second Dead Apostle he killed this year. Ever since the Age of Gods ended, the vampires started to appear in force. It wasn't as noticeable on the Isles, where the Age of Gods still lingered, but on the mainland, it was an infestation. Now, whenever he ventured into those lands, he couldn't go a decade without some idiot attempting to hunt him down. Even when he never specifically sought them out, he somehow gained a reputation as a vampire hunter. It probably had to do with the one True Ancestor he made an effort to find and then summarily executed, but in his defense, he just wanted to check if they were the same as Yu, the Elemental of Blood. Thankfully, they weren't, even if the similarities were there.
But that seemed to be enough, and now every Dead Apostle that thought himself a bigshot was after his head. An irritation, but it was better they killed themselves on him than if they terrorized more humans.
At least most mages hated them, too. Many of the magical families lost someone to the undead, and even entire bloodlines got eradicated. The changing of Ages was mostly at fault there. With the decline of Mystery, many branches of magecraft magi relied upon dried up, their spells and rituals barely a fraction of what they were, or outright didn't work at all. And when Dead Apostles noticed, a slaughter began.
Now, the frenzy was reaching its peak, it would seem.
Concerned, Shirou decided to return home to check up on Scathach and Deitra's family. He doubted his student had any trouble, but it didn't hurt to check.
The sensation of floating that accompanied being summoned ended as fast as it started, and Shirou found himself in the usual summoning circle in Deitra's mansion. Although he probably should stop calling it that, as the woman herself died a couple of centuries ago. To his side, Scathach steadied herself. It was her idea to piggyback on his summoning, and with her mastery of runes and his magic, it wasn't that hard to pull off, but in the end, humans weren't made for this, and her aura told him she didn't like the experience one bit.
"Master Avel, Lady Scathach." The man who summoned him greeted them with a tense bow. He wasn't sure if she was Deitra's grandson or some other relative, but he bore the features of the Fiachna family. "Thank you for granting our request. If you would follow me."
They followed the curt man. They didn't need more explanation, after all, as this plan was put in motion years ago.
When Shirou checked up on Deitra's family after returning from the mainland, he learned that the mages finally had enough of the Dead Apostles and were preparing to deal with them permanently. He wasn't let in on the details, but he knew the broad strokes. It was a simple plan.
Lure in the progenitor of all vampires and kill him.
Brunestud of the Crimson Moon was his name, and the rumor said he was extremely powerful. So, to combat him required the cooperation of as many mages as possible. They rallied behind one of the most powerful of their kind, and coincidently gathered in the Fiachna family lands, where the Age of Gods still lingered. There probably was a lot of politics going on that decided where exactly the battle would take place, but it didn't matter to Shirou.
His role was a small one. Originally, he was just supposed to ask Scathach to attend. Their connection was well known, and the reclusive Queen of the Land of Shadows was hard to get to, especially when she was resting in her domain. Deitra's family used this occasion to call in the favor he owed them. As fun as messing with them was, he finally relented. But he told them he will join the battle as well, to balance the scales.
After three years of waiting, here they were.
When they exited the mansion, the sea of dazzling colors almost stunned him. Hundreds of auras blazed with purpose and determination in a beautiful display of human will, from weak ones to those that blazed with barely restrained power. And in the center of this gathering stood a pillar shining like a rainbow. A middle-aged man with combed-back black hair and a severe expression. Zelretch of the Second Magic. Every mage was making their preparations, but they all gravitated around him.
Shaking his head, Shirou nodded to Scathach, the woman leaving to join her peers.
He didn't need any preparations, so he stood aside, drawing curious glances from the nearby mages. He wasn't exactly famous, and his appearance differed from the 'silver' fairy Scathach asked around about, but some still recognized him. Few even approached to ask if he'd sell or craft them a weapon, and he gave away some. Nothing amazing, but hopefully it would help them survive the battle.
A couple of hours later, they waited for Brunestud in a valley a few miles away from the mansion. How they were supposed to lure him there, Shirou didn't know or care, but whatever it was, they were successful.
One moment they were all silently waiting, tense and nervous, and the next a being in a shape of a man fell from the sky like a meteor. Spells bloomed in response almost immediately, and yet dozens of auras winked out in seconds as a blanket of suffocating alien power covered the valley.
Shirou clenched his teeth, ignoring the worry about his student, and took to the battlefield.
It was chaos at first, but soon Zelretch engaged Brunestud in a duel, both combatants rising into the air and allowing the rest of the mages a clear shot. Arcane effects and formulas filled the sky and the ground, beams of destruction slicing through the firmament by the hundreds as luminous shields unfolded above their heads.
But it didn't mean they were safe.
Brunestud answered in kind. Despite Zelretch's onslaught, he found time to rain destruction. Red lightning and ribbons of pure energy descended in a deadly display of might, the attacks effortlessly breaking through every defense. Shirou found himself running across the battlefield, his weapons deflecting and cutting through spells. But even copies of Midjinior melted after a single parry.
The afternoon soon turned into evening and the battle still raged. He occasionally spotted Scathach, her ancient runes creating a sanctuary exhausted mages could rest behind. She was an oasis of safety amidst a desert of death, one of the pockets of resistance scattered across the valley. Spots where exceptionally powerful magi allowed their weaker compatriots a window to retaliate.
Then Shirou made a single mistake.
He missed deflecting a narrow beam of crimson energy, and a pencil-width ray hit him in the middle of his chest. At first, nothing happened, then after a second, the beam disappeared.
Together with most of his upper body.
"… huh?"
He stared dumbly at the hole, a missing chunk the size of a keg, from his belly button up to his neck, and only thin strips of flesh left at his sides. It didn't hurt, a stray thought ran through his mind. It didn't hurt and yet all strength left him and he toppled back. Time seemed to slow down as darkness crept in from the corners of his eyes.
The last thing he saw was the rest of his body splintering into countless silver blades before he hit the ground.
The World of Swords breaks and a Sword that is a World rises.
The Rainbow with ten thousand eyes watches from ten thousand Worlds, and an aurora in the sky dances.
Wisps of Mystery twist the Truth, and the Shadow cuts time in twain.
The Moon casts the earth in shades of red, and the Silver Castle eats reality away.
The Sword gnaws at the eternal bricks, and the Moon breaks the Sword in revenge, until nothing remains.
But the Sword rises again and again, silver painting the plains.
Wrath of the battle shakes the earth, The Moon a titan before the flies.
A power beyond them all, yet ignorance the source of his demise.
The Castle lies in ruins, a million cuts on every brick, and the Moon's radiance wanes.
In spite, the Crimson Disc grows in the sky, to see the future in flames.
The sky falls, death of the World as a final crime.
Yet the children of Gaia cry in defiance one last time.
The Sword bares his heart, and the Moon burns under the light of a Star as the line between Illusion and Reality turns to ash.
The sky glows with a prismatic light that scours away space and time, leaving scars that will never heal. Not even on the Rainbow himself.
The Shadow drinks from darkness and death, and her crimson spear pierces through time and causality itself, striking a foreign heart.
The Wisps fall one by one, their last breaths carrying spite and curses that burrow in the Moon's bones.
Then it's all over, and a silver moon illuminates a silver wasteland.
When the haze of impressions finally turned into something coherent, Shirou found himself in a strange state of… unbeing. He was aware of everything around him, down to the smallest pebble, but his vision was a confusing jumble of a thousand perspectives, although it soon somehow became natural, and he managed to make some sense of his surroundings.
He was in a middle of a silver wasteland, thousands of silver swords of various sizes growing from the bare ground, with weirder effects lingering in some places. Pockets of twisted time and space played tricks on his strange vision, and some spots seemed to exist in multiple states at once, while others burned with magical flames or bubbled with prismatic liquids.
A bit apprehensive, he tried to feel his body, but there was no feedback. Instead, the range of his perspective moved a bit from side to side. So he concentrated harder, trying to somehow force himself into properly waking up. That, at least, gave him some progress.
Sensations returned, albeit reduced as if he was touching everything through a thick leather blanket. In the middle of his awareness, a pile of small silver blades rose from the ground, growing like a stumpy metallic tree, until it took a rough shape of a human. It lacked details or clothing, but it was his body now.
Finally, Shirou opened his physical 'eyes', two orbs of golden-red flames inside silver sockets.
And before him stood Zelretch, a wary expression on his severe face, and a nimbus of magical energy swirling behind him.
"Ah…"
How did he miss him? Despite his now omnipresent 'view' from Eternal Forge, he somehow didn't notice the most powerful mage that attended the battle arrive before him. Although he appeared to be weakened quite a bit. And much older, too. When did this happen?
Before he could voice his questions, another figure landed between them. A familiar form of his student. With her spear in hand. Uh, what was exactly happening here right now?
They ended up in a strange standoff, two powerful mages glaring at each other and clueless Shirou to the side.
"Lady Scathach." Zelretch inclined his head, but his eyes didn't leave Shirou's form.
"Zelretch. Why are you here? Shouldn't the hero of the moment be with the rest?"
The aged mage didn't answer immediately, his eyes flickering to Gae Bolg.
"… to make sure we don't have another monster on our hands. Don't play dumb, Scathach. You saw what he became. Who here could stop him if he decided humans are better off dead?"
"And yet he still fought with us, so don't go starting any witch hunts. And I could say the same about you, too. With this victory, none will dare speak against you no matter what you do, nor anyone could stop you if they tried."
"But I'm still a human. Avel is a fairy. I know you knew him since you were a child, but don't let that blind you to reality." He gestured at their surroundings, a silver desert stretching from horizon to horizon, with silver blades like forests of giant swords everywhere. "What when the Age of Gods finally leaves your homeland and he decides to drown the world in silver to bring it back? Will you say the same, then?"
Scatahch let out a sharp bark of a laugh, her lips twisting into a mocking smile.
"Now who is the one ignoring reality now, Zelretch? As if humans can't be greater monsters than the worst of Phantasmals. If that happens, I'll be the first to oppose him. Don't excuse your fear-mongering with maybes. We all can become monsters, and you know it."
They glared at each other for a few more seconds before Zelretch gave up.
"Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you when that happens."
With that, he left, leaving still lost Shirou with his student. Scathach's shoulders sagged, and she turned to Shirou, a tired expression on her face.
"Teacher. You're impossible sometimes."
Shirou sighed and closed his 'eyes'. What did he do to himself this time?
Sometimes, Shirou wondered, it seemed like the World liked to mock him.
He already spent decades searching for a solution to Scathach's problem, and each time he found something that would work, it came with drawbacks that made it impossible to make use of, or pointless to even attempt. His first idea was to put Scathach in Avalon, preventing any 'shadow' from sticking to her. But as she told him, she didn't want to exchange one prison for another. He argued it would be different. He could still visit her there and so could other fairies, but his student wanted to stay in the human world in the end, and while Avalon was a beautiful wonder, a prison was still a prison. And so, they kept searching. Scathach explored possibilities with magecraft, seeking other mages for knowledge and advice, while Shirou roamed the human world and the Reverse Side for inspiration. He was a blacksmith, after all, one of the best in the world. If not the best. Bihev was always the one he compared himself to, but after the debacle with Midjinior, his opinion of the old Dwarf plummeted. The Great Father of the Forge may be thousands of years older than him, but it meant little if all he did was sleep his days away.
But for all his skill, Shirou had to admit there were weapons he couldn't recreate even now. Like the one resting in Avalon. Excalibur, a Divine Construct that couldn't be replicated with mere skill alone. It wasn't merely the question of the correct materials or ability, but circumstances and timing. The World itself helped forge that sword during its greatest time of need, and even if he was a fairy, a Nature Spirit, he couldn't bend the will of the World to his whim.
And the same applied to the one he was currently standing in front of.
In a remote corner of the Isles, away from human settlements, stood a great tower. A pillar of white stone, taller than any structure made by man, surpassing even the skyscrapers from Shirou's childhood. It had no doors or windows, just smooth stone blocks with barely any flourishes all the way to the top that tapered into a point.
Almost like that of a spear.
It wasn't a coincidence, because while it might look like a simple, albeit strange and incredibly tall, tower, Shirou's Fairy Eyes revealed it for what it truly was.
Rhongomyniad, a spear of light that connected the sky and earth, piercing the World like a giant nail, fastening the surface in place. Mana and Mystery radiated off it in an almost blinding manner, suffusing the lush surroundings in a veil of power. If he wasn't a fairy, simply approaching it would be enough to kill him. But there were no humans here, only nature. The tower should be visible from hundreds of miles away, but the natural bounded field kept it hidden, a barrier made from the will of the World itself.
Shirou basked in its glow, a content smile on his lips. It felt like home, but more. He looked down, where the base of the tower met the earth and switched his Perspective. Rhongomyniad was tall, impossibly so even, but that paled compared to how deep it went. The spear pierced into the innermost layers of the World, into the Reverse Side, and deeper still, into the heart of the Planet. He felt like he was standing on the lip of a cliff and taking one step meant his doom because even a fairy wouldn't survive the trip to the bottom, where the soul of the World resided.
Fascinated, Shirou looked deeper, trying to spot where the spear began. The distance was great, but laws of physics didn't exist here, only Will and Mystery. Finally, he found what he was looking for. The core of the Star, the heart of the Planet, the soul of the World. A well of infinite power, the source of the World's mana, glowing with the light of Creation, with concepts and meaning beyond the comprehension of even gods. His vision was filled with its entrancing sight, with colors that defied description, with potential so enormous that even from this distance he was nothing more than a speck of dust before the vastness of the ocean. Beautiful.
A sudden pang in his chest caused him to flinch and take a step back. Grimacing, Shirou shook his head and rubbed at the sore spot, at the small silver splotch that shimmered there.
That was stupid of him.
He focused on Eternal Forge, on the core of his soul, the ever-changing sword of gold and iron. The connection to Avalon that helped him free Scathach from the grip of that woman was still there. It was always there, even before that, but in his desperation, he abused and widened that link, until it spilled an endless amount of mana directly into his soul. And it never returned to normal. Even after he stopped being 'silver', it was still there. An infinity of mana at the tips of his fingers. He just needed to pull on it again. A simple twist of will away. Effortless. Enticing.
Terrifying.
And now it widened just a little more, a drop of silver spreading across Eternal Forge, the change reflecting as a silver dot on his body. It was all too easy to drink from that well and forget himself. Thankfully, the link did nothing unless he actively tried to pull too much mana at once, so it wasn't something he had to worry about. Usually.
He took another step away from the tower. It seemed Rhongomyniad was too much like his connection, and staring into the deepest parts of the World resonated with it. Avalon was a part of the Reverse Side, after all, and a region where the soul of the World was closest to the surface. Or rather, Avalon was the deepest part of the Reverse Side, just above the true core itself.
Still, Rhongomyniad was almost the perfect answer to the Land of Shadows drifting away from the human world. If he could somehow recreate it, and put it there, he would essentially nail it to the human world, stopping the drift.
The problem was… Rhongomyniad was a Divine Construct. Not just a Divine Construct, but one on the level of Excalibur, and Shirou was sure he couldn't replicate it.
But maybe he didn't have to. The Land of Shadows wasn't the human world or the Reverse Side, but just a small pocket dimension. He didn't need a spear on the level of Rhongomyniad, just something that worked similarly. It won't be easy, and probably take some time and effort, but it should be possible.
Although…
"… I'll need more steel for this," Shirou said, staring up at the enormous tower.
"You were right, Deitra. The tower was there."
The aging woman regarded Shirou for a few seconds before responding.
"… I see. That's good to hear. We couldn't break through that barrier, so you have my thanks for confirming our suspicions. I'm sure we'd never be able to get inside otherwise. You did us a great favor, Avel."
Shirou smiled brightly, completely ignoring the 'subtle' hint. "Sure, no problem. It turned out quite useful for me too, so don't worry about it."
The woman narrowed her eyes, her hand tightly gripping the hilt of an ornate sword at her hip.
They stood in the same room they first met, all those years ago, away from prying ears. Shirou changed little in that time, but Deitra went from an unsure and fearful teen to a confident woman with a spine of steel. A head of her family and a powerful magus. She wasn't old yet, despite the white in her hair, but she wasn't immortal, and after almost fifty years, her age started to show.
She saw right through his mask of obliviousness and wasn't afraid to give him a piece of her mind.
"Godsdamnit, Avel." Deitra finally said, exasperated, massaging the bridge of her nose as she glared at him. "When will you give up that favor? I have half of my household constantly watching their backs for hidden fairies by now. Do you have any idea how stressful it is to have the attention of the fair folk? And they won't relax no matter what I tell them!"
In truth, Shirou only held onto it for his amusement.
At first, he just wanted to help her out a little more out of guilt, but somewhere along the line, it turned into a game of dodging Deitra's attempts at calling in the favor. Now, whenever she summoned him or he found himself in the vicinity of her home, he played the role of an irritatingly dense fae, always finding a reason he still owed her.
And when she got like this, he made sure to have an escape route prepared.
His smile widened, a twinkle dancing in his golden eyes, and a thread of his magical energy coiled in the center of the room. Deitra noticed, of course, reaching to stop him, but she was too slow.
"Don't you dar--"
Her voice got cut out as Shirou disappeared in a swirl of golden particles, slipping into Avalon after tapping into the connection from his summoning decades ago. The link was faint and old, but the gates that have been opened once can be opened again, after all.
If only the Land of Shadows remained like this.
Walking through the 'streets' of Nibelung filled Shirou with nostalgia. The beaten earth trails were still the same as he remembered them. The tree-huts and occasional stone dwellings looked as they always did, although there may be more fairies than in the past.
"This place didn't change at all."
"Of course it didn't," a blue fairy floating beside him said. "Are you getting senile, Red? You were gone for maybe a couple hundred years. That's nothing."
Shirou sighed, throwing a weak glare at his old friend.
"Maybe. But it still feels strange after spending so much time in the human world. It makes me feel like it was all just a dream."
It wasn't a good feeling. Nibelung was his home for most of his life, and he knew it like the back of his hand. The stability of its unchanging nature was always something he appreciated. Now, it made his experiences in the human world feel… less real, somehow.
He shook his head, dismissing those ominous thoughts. Hopefully, he wouldn't be staying here all that long.
"Blue, for how long can you distract Bihev?"
She turned in midair to face him, her eyebrows rising inquisitively.
"Oh? What's this? Are you going to mess with him?"
"A little," Shirou admitted, a mischievous smile pulling at his lips. "It won't be anything bad, just…" He paused, his smile transforming into something decidedly nastier. "… a harmless prank."
Dienu stared at him in surprise. She knew he didn't get along with the old Dwarf, but usually, he wasn't one to indulge in cruelty, even with his enemies. But for Bihev, he'd make an exception. The small blue fairy seemed to notice Shirou's unusual attitude, and soon she mirrored his grin.
"Ha! If that's the case, then I'm up for it! It'll do good for that sloth to suffer a little. Maybe it'll make him leave that boring pit he calls his forge for once. I can't promise much, but with his laziness, you should have a few years to do whatever you need."
"That's long enough. Thanks, Blue."
Soon, they made their way into the mountain, passing by the familiar faces of Dwarves and other fairies. Shirou exchanged a few words with each one, most treating him as if he had never left, and from their perspective, he really did not. Most probably wouldn't even notice his absence if his departure wasn't what it was, with the dragon and all that. A few hundred years was just a short while in a life of a fairy, after all.
They split up, Dienu leaving to annoy Bihev, and Shirou continuing deeper into the mountain.
The familiar halls of Nibelung, glittering with colorful gems and veins of metals, stirred his heart. He missed this place. If not for Bihev, he would visit more often, if only to meet up with his old acquaintances, but the idea of dealing with the Dwarf was too much. He touched the wall as he walked, the rough rock and ores scraping at his palm. When he first arrived here, the depths of Nibelung were almost scary, the literal mountain of stone above his head a constant threat until he got used to it. Now, it was relaxing. Shirou submerged himself in that feeling, drinking in the mountain's mana, brushing against the blood of Faery itself, changing his surroundings with every step.
When he reached his old armory, he was surprised to see it still more or less intact. After the dragon attack, most of Nibelung was destroyed, a large part of his old forge and armory with it. He expected the mountain to reclaim that space, but it didn't do so. The enormous cavern that led to the smaller forge lost its artificial feel, turning into something more like a natural cavern, but when he knew what was there before, it was easy to see it for what it was. He walked in deeper, each step staining the ground in metals and minerals. Iron and gold, copper and tin, and everything in between. Glittering mithril and purple orichalcum, bluish adamantite and crimson cruthyl, all glowing with an inner light. Magical metals almost impossible to find in the human world, but here, in Faery, he simply willed them into existence. Precious jewels bloomed from the stone in a rainbow of hues around him, growing into clusters larger than his body. Each one would bankrupt a kingdom, but to fairies, they were just 'sparkly rocks'. Only after someone worked them into weapons or art they were worth anything.
His forge was almost as he last saw it. The broken anvil was still there, pieces scattered on the floor as if it all happened yesterday. Shirou looked around, noting the unhealed cracks in the walls and scorch marks. It was strange that Nibelung hadn't touched this place since he left. Armory, he could understand. It was a large space and was slowly being converted, but this small forge didn't change at all.
Was it his fault, somehow? This was where he created Eternal Forge, after all. Did the echo of that event still live in these walls?
Shirou sighed. It wasn't really important. He retrieved his blacksmithing hammer from Eternal Forge; the tool popping into his hand in a burst of golden-red flames. Whatever the case, it would make for a good starting point for his plan.
He channeled his will into the tool, wielding the full weight of his existence, his mystery. He hoped Dienu distracted Bihev enough.
"Well, time to get to work."
A few years later, Shirou found himself in another nostalgic situation, standing before Bihev with a crowd of fairies behind him. The main cavern of Nibelung was quiet for once, only the soft sound of falling lava from the central pillar broke the silence as all the fairy smiths gathered to watch the confrontation between the Great Father of the Forge and the Fairy of Fire and Iron.
"So that's what it was all about." The Great Father said, throwing an annoyed glare at Dienu, but his focus never wavered from the red-haired fae. "A cover for a thief sneaking into my home. And here I thought you were just nostalgic for my company. Shame, Dienu, shame."
The floating blue fairy blew him a raspberry in response and flew to sit on Shirou's shoulders. She may be a friend to both of them, but this time she sided with Shirou, and he gladly rubbed it in Bihev's face, smiling mockingly.
"That's rude, Bihev. It's not my fault you didn't notice I'm here. Besides, you never exiled me or anything, so don't act like I'm in the wrong."
"… so it may be, but now I'm reconsidering that decision. Every time we meet like this, it turns into a colossal mess. What is it this time? More Makra? Another dragon? Don't think I'll help you deal with one again."
"Oh?" Shirou raised his eyebrows. "That's rich coming from you. If I remember correctly, if not for me, that dragon would probably destroy the rest of Nibelung while you struggled to survive just it."
As unlikely as that may've been. The dragon was mighty, but Bihev was still a Great Father in the heart of his domain. Shirou doubted the old Dwarf would actually lose that fight, but well, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility, and that fact allowed him to point it out and annoy the giant fairy. A small, petty thing, but it warmed Shirou's heart to see Bihev scowl at the reminder.
The crowd of fairies backed him up. He saved many of them then, after all, and when he asked them to help him in his 'prank' in return, they easily agreed.
"Yeah, yeah, Bihev. Don't be so hard on Master Avel. If not for him, a lot of us wouldn't be here today.
"Hear, hear."
"They are right, you know?" Dienu said. "I wasn't there, but taking care of a single wyrm shouldn't leave Nibelung a smoking crater, so if not for Red, it would be much worse. Not to mention you can be an asshole sometimes, and taking advantage of this helpful idiot was too much."
"… why am I suddenly the villain here? I don't keep you lot here by force, so don't act like it's my responsibility to look after you."
"Except you did keep me here by force," Shirou pointed out. "And even if that dragon came here for your treasure only, it still forced me to risk my life for you. You've to admit it."
Well, technically, Shirou didn't have to fight the dragon, but if he didn't, it could've turned on him, anyway, so he would risk his life one way or another.
The Dwarf wasn't outright evil, no more than a regular fairy, and Shirou bet on that fact, and the backing of Dienu and the rest of the smiths to force Bihev into admitting he owed him a little. If only so they'd stop annoying him.
Bihev glared at him for a few seconds longer before sighing and rubbing at his face.
"Fine, whatever. Let's get it over with so I can go to sleep in peace again. What do you want, Avel?"
Internally, Shirou celebrated with glee, but outwardly, his smile only widened a little. It was a good thing Fairy Eyes didn't work on other fairies, or Bihev's would be much more wary right now.
"Not much. Just some materials from the mountain. The human world lacks the metals of the fairy realm, and some projects I'm working on I can't finish with mundane steel."
"Really? That's it?" Bihev asked, raising an eyebrow. "You could've done that anyway in Faery. You didn't have to come here specifically."
He was right. Faery twisted the environment into whatever a fairy needed, and if Shirou stayed at a random piece of land for long enough, it would turn simple soil into materials he needed in time. But time was the problem here. Shirou didn't have a few centuries to sit in on his ass while Faery worked its magic.
"Sure. But that'd take a lot longer. Your presence speeds the process up quite a lot. You know that."
Bihev shook his head. "You and your lack of patience. You really should take things slower, Avel. Sleep on them for a century or two, or you'll keep getting into trouble. But fine. If that's what will make you all leave me in peace, then take as much as you want."
With that permission granted, Shirou closed his eyes, concentrating on Eternal Forge. His Domain was large, hundreds of feet in diameter, but it wasn't enough to cover the entire chamber. It didn't matter.
Eternal Forge could store every weapon he ever created, as long as they were within its range. No matter if only a part of the weapon was within that range.
And no matter how large those weapons were.
He pulled, and golden-red flames illuminated the vast cavern as a good third of the mountain turned into fire. Entire swaths of the mountainside, miles in length, crumbled as the giant swords hidden just underneath a thin layer of stone entered Eternal Forge. The rumble of collapsing rocks reverberated through the cavern, the ground shaking just a little as the dust of debris slowly settled down. Soon, only a ribcage of stone pillars supported the far ceiling, the sunlight of Faery shining on the deep interior of Nibelung for the second time in as many centuries.
Of the massive weapons Shirou forged over the last three years, nothing remained.
It wasn't easy, but with the help of other smiths, he carved tunnels throughout Nibelung, turning the material into the minerals and metals he needed. After the initial setup was done, he carefully forged the mountain into giant swords, spears, and maces. He wouldn't dare use those shoddy blades in battle, and it would require a true giant to wield them besides, but he just needed Eternal Forge to acknowledge them as his creations. The shape didn't matter, so he made sure to create extensions from each into the central cavern so he could store them all in one go.
Bihev stared dumbly at his reduced home, and Shirou cherished the shocked look on that face. A shame cameras were a long time away, he would love to have a photo of this moment.
"…"
"What?" Shirou asked innocently, barely restraining the glee in his voice. "You said I can take as much as I want."
The old Dwarf turned to him, a vein pulsing on his forehead. He did not look happy.
"… out," Bihev said, pointing towards the exit gates, although now there was not much point in them as to each side was just empty space.
"What's that? Out? Well, yes, we can indeed see the outside, Bihev. No need to point out the obvious."
"Out, damned thief!" The old Dwarf thundered. "You stole from me when you first stepped into my home, and now you steal my very home, too! I'll be damned if I let you stay another minute. Out!"
"How rude. I only did what you told me to do. "
Unfortunately, Shirou affronted look didn't sway the Great Father. Even without seeing his aura, the red-haired fairy was sure the Dwarf was getting truly mad, and as therapeutic as it was, Shirou had to leave or risk Bihev's wrath. Actually fighting with the Dwarf wasn't something he wanted to do, as citizens of Nibelung would be the ones to suffer in their clash.
So he left, waving goodbye to the smiths and Dienu, the small blue fairy staying behind to calm Bihev down. He probably won't be able to return to Nibelung for quite some time, but it didn't put a damper on Shirou's mood.
With the issue of forging materials solved for the foreseeable future, Shirou returned to the human world, continuing his search for solutions.
Unfortunately, he didn't stumble upon outright answers like Rhongomyniad anymore, but he didn't give up. The spear itself was something he kept returning to, spending years at a time studying the Divine Construct and attempting to recreate it. It was a good thing he had a mountain's worth of magical metals stored in Eternal Forge because he failed so many times that a lot of it turned into useless slag.
He met with Scathach every few years, comparing their findings and catching up in general. Now that she didn't spend most of her time searching for him, she could live her life however she wished, only returning to the Land of Shadows when too many ghosts clung to her. And yet, she still treated the castle in the Land of Shadows as her home. Sometimes, Shirou wondered if she already gave up on stopping the drift, so she didn't bother making a home in a human town or village.
Whatever the case may be, he wouldn't give up. One way or another, Scathach won't be forced to endure eternity on her own.
It was on one of his wanderings that he noticed a particular scent. An unpleasant and familiar scent.
It led him to a human village littered with dozens of corpses. In the light of the full moon, the blood-splattered houses and streets shone with unnatural light, the bright red ichor still fresh and dripping. It was eerily silent. He couldn't sense any survivors, and Eternal Forge was large enough to cover the entire settlement. Every inhabitant of this place was dead, men, women, and children, yet there were barely any signs of battle, just some gouge marks on a few house walls. Shirou ignored the unpleasant stench, focusing on the magical signature, but still inspected some of the dead.
Most were ripped apart by claws and fangs, but some had traces of magecraft on them. The wounds themselves were grisly, as if whatever killed tried to destroy their bodies and not just kill them.
His face grim, he followed the magical signature, leaving the village end and entering a nearby forest. There, the marks of a battle were much more visible. Broken trees and upturned earth, an occasional corpse or body part strewed amidst the foliage. His suspicions about the source of all this senseless death were confirmed when he spotted something moving further into the woods.
A girl, barely an adult, crawled towards him. Or rather, the upper half of a girl, the unfortunate child missing everything below her ribcage.
She was certainly dead, her eyes milky white and skin almost gray from blood loss, but she was still moving. A ghoul. An undead thrall of a Dead Apostle. A golden-blue sword stabbed into her head, the blade appearing in a puff of golden-red flames inches above her, putting the girl out of her misery. As fast as the weapon appeared, it disappeared, replaced by a wave of fire, turning her remains into ash.
Shirou stared at the blackened patch of earth for a few seconds before taking off again.
The scent was getting stronger, the vampire was not far away, and the signs of battle were even more apparent. Dead animals now joined the occasional remains of a ghoul. Deers and bears, wolves, and even eagles lay dead on the forest floor, some still entangled with ghouls they fought against.
He finally found the Dead Apostle in a small clearing. And not one, but two of them. Although one was already dead, his body ripped apart. The other one was not much better off, covered in wounds and barely conscious. Shirou could sense more magical energy in a mundane human, so exhausted was the vampire. Still, he noticed the fairy entering the clearing and turned to face the new threat, his weary red eyes steady.
Standing at the treeline, Shirou regarded the man silently. He made for a pitiful sight, wounded as he was and leaning on the flank of the last surviving beast, a great black bear. But even the animal was slowly dying, blood pooling under it.
"… a fairy? Why…"
The vampire fell silent when an array of powerful swords appeared around him, sharp tips inches from his skin.
"Indeed, thing," Shirou said, his voice cold. He didn't care for this human, but the blades didn't fall. He had questions still. "Were you the one who slaughtered that village?"
"… no."
He wasn't lying. Curious. Shirou met only a few Dead Apostles since the day Deitra summoned him, but they all reveled in death, turning entire settlements into undead thralls. Their disgusting immortality granted them great resilience and strength of magic. And an ego to match, too. Only when their spells failed to harm him, and his swords obliterated whatever defenses they had, they found conscience. But he never met one who was actually innocent or had a good heart.
"So it was the other one, I assume?"
The vampire grimaced, glancing at the dismembered body.
"Yes. My 'brother'. We had an… disagreement over that, and you can see how it ended."
"Quite a disagreement that must've been. But 'brother'? You don't look related."
Admittingly, the dead vampire was butchered almost beyond recognition, but the blond hair and sharp features amidst the blood contrasted with the black of this man. Not to mention their signatures were nothing alike, even if the dead one was quickly fading. Shirou had a hard time believing they were actually blood-related.
"We had the same 'father'. The True Ancestor that turned us. Not that we had much of a choice…"
"True Ancestor?" Shirou asked, the swords moving slightly as an incentive to answer.
The man eyed the weapons warily, but with how weak he was right now, he probably knew Shirou could easily kill him, so he just sighed and sat on the bloody ground, the bear following suit and placing his large head on the vampire's lap.
"How much do you know about Dead Apostles?"
"Not much, I admit. Just that you are immortal and can create undead, your souls are rotting away, and by large, most of you are an unpleasant sort better off dead. The few I had the displeasure of meeting didn't live long enough to change my mind. Not that they tried anyway."
The man laughed, his lips twisting into a bitter smile, ignoring the implied threat.
"That's more than most, I guess. And all true, too. But we don't just appear out of nowhere. We are turned into Dead Apostles by True Ancestors, spirits of nature. Like fairies, actually, but, eh, not really. Their immortality is a step above ours, but while we need to drink blood to survive, their bloodlust is just a mental thing. They can go without, but it gives them a power boost."
Immortal spirits of nature with blood as a focus? Wait, was Yu a True Ancestor all along!?
Ignoring Shirou's internal freakout, the man continued.
"At least that's what I learned over the years. Most of us aren't high on the ladder, even if some like to pretend they are more important than they truly are. We are disposable minions at best, and emergency food at worst."
Well, that was… pitiful. But it didn't tell Shirou why these two vampires fought to the death.
"I see. But why did you kill him?"
The vampire paused for a moment, his smile slipping. The dying bear rumbled a whine, prompting the man to pet it.
"… he wanted to create an army of ghouls and gift it to our 'father'. Why? I can… guess. But that was too far. I never wanted to become this blood-sucking monster, but fine, I was unlucky and it happened. At least I didn't end up as a mindless ghoul. But killing thousands of innocents… and for what? A sliver of interest? A scrap of attention? … but he wouldn't budge, and it escalated. And, well, here we are. Friends of a hundred years killing each other…"
Shirou let his weapons return to Eternal Forge. As much as this man disgusted him, he couldn't bring himself to kill him. While the Dead Apostles he encountered so far were wretched monsters, throwing their humanity away for power and to live a bit longer, he couldn't fault this one for the same. After all, Shirou wasn't that different. They were both cursed with immortality against their will, their souls forever changed. It wasn't the same, but he would be a hypocrite to kill him over it.
No matter how repulsive the vampire's soul was.
"No execution after all, huh?"
"I don't kill without reason."
"You know I'm not that innocent, right? I'm still a Dead Apostle. I need to drink blood regularly, and that usually means someone has to die."
"Do you want to die? Because if you try to kill an innocent human right in front of me, I won't show you mercy. But I'm not a hero that tries to save everyone in the world. I won't murder a soldier that is doing his job, nor do I seek every wild animal that ever killed a human. And you're not lost yet. You're not a monster. The fact you stopped your 'brother' is proof enough."
"…"
Shirou turned to leave. He had a village to bury, and this depressed vampire wasn't a problem right now. It might be naïve to let a Dead Apostle live, but he didn't want to become someone who murders people for factors outside their control or just because of what they are.
"I hope I won't have to find you in the future," Shirou said as he left the clearing.
A maw of sharp steel closed with a metallic screech of grinding steel, thousands of summoned swords scraping against each other, flames and sparks forming a horizontal blazing line in the middle as Eternal Forge fed the inferno. The Dead Apostle that stood before Shirou a second ago struggled for a moment, but magecraft failed to find purchase against the fairy's Mystery, fangs slid off the cold steel, and the vampire soon turned into mincemeat and then ash.
Shirou sighed with irritation. This was the second Dead Apostle he killed this year. Ever since the Age of Gods ended, the vampires started to appear in force. It wasn't as noticeable on the Isles, where the Age of Gods still lingered, but on the mainland, it was an infestation. Now, whenever he ventured into those lands, he couldn't go a decade without some idiot attempting to hunt him down. Even when he never specifically sought them out, he somehow gained a reputation as a vampire hunter. It probably had to do with the one True Ancestor he made an effort to find and then summarily executed, but in his defense, he just wanted to check if they were the same as Yu, the Elemental of Blood. Thankfully, they weren't, even if the similarities were there.
But that seemed to be enough, and now every Dead Apostle that thought himself a bigshot was after his head. An irritation, but it was better they killed themselves on him than if they terrorized more humans.
At least most mages hated them, too. Many of the magical families lost someone to the undead, and even entire bloodlines got eradicated. The changing of Ages was mostly at fault there. With the decline of Mystery, many branches of magecraft magi relied upon dried up, their spells and rituals barely a fraction of what they were, or outright didn't work at all. And when Dead Apostles noticed, a slaughter began.
Now, the frenzy was reaching its peak, it would seem.
Concerned, Shirou decided to return home to check up on Scathach and Deitra's family. He doubted his student had any trouble, but it didn't hurt to check.
The sensation of floating that accompanied being summoned ended as fast as it started, and Shirou found himself in the usual summoning circle in Deitra's mansion. Although he probably should stop calling it that, as the woman herself died a couple of centuries ago. To his side, Scathach steadied herself. It was her idea to piggyback on his summoning, and with her mastery of runes and his magic, it wasn't that hard to pull off, but in the end, humans weren't made for this, and her aura told him she didn't like the experience one bit.
"Master Avel, Lady Scathach." The man who summoned him greeted them with a tense bow. He wasn't sure if she was Deitra's grandson or some other relative, but he bore the features of the Fiachna family. "Thank you for granting our request. If you would follow me."
They followed the curt man. They didn't need more explanation, after all, as this plan was put in motion years ago.
When Shirou checked up on Deitra's family after returning from the mainland, he learned that the mages finally had enough of the Dead Apostles and were preparing to deal with them permanently. He wasn't let in on the details, but he knew the broad strokes. It was a simple plan.
Lure in the progenitor of all vampires and kill him.
Brunestud of the Crimson Moon was his name, and the rumor said he was extremely powerful. So, to combat him required the cooperation of as many mages as possible. They rallied behind one of the most powerful of their kind, and coincidently gathered in the Fiachna family lands, where the Age of Gods still lingered. There probably was a lot of politics going on that decided where exactly the battle would take place, but it didn't matter to Shirou.
His role was a small one. Originally, he was just supposed to ask Scathach to attend. Their connection was well known, and the reclusive Queen of the Land of Shadows was hard to get to, especially when she was resting in her domain. Deitra's family used this occasion to call in the favor he owed them. As fun as messing with them was, he finally relented. But he told them he will join the battle as well, to balance the scales.
After three years of waiting, here they were.
When they exited the mansion, the sea of dazzling colors almost stunned him. Hundreds of auras blazed with purpose and determination in a beautiful display of human will, from weak ones to those that blazed with barely restrained power. And in the center of this gathering stood a pillar shining like a rainbow. A middle-aged man with combed-back black hair and a severe expression. Zelretch of the Second Magic. Every mage was making their preparations, but they all gravitated around him.
Shaking his head, Shirou nodded to Scathach, the woman leaving to join her peers.
He didn't need any preparations, so he stood aside, drawing curious glances from the nearby mages. He wasn't exactly famous, and his appearance differed from the 'silver' fairy Scathach asked around about, but some still recognized him. Few even approached to ask if he'd sell or craft them a weapon, and he gave away some. Nothing amazing, but hopefully it would help them survive the battle.
A couple of hours later, they waited for Brunestud in a valley a few miles away from the mansion. How they were supposed to lure him there, Shirou didn't know or care, but whatever it was, they were successful.
One moment they were all silently waiting, tense and nervous, and the next a being in a shape of a man fell from the sky like a meteor. Spells bloomed in response almost immediately, and yet dozens of auras winked out in seconds as a blanket of suffocating alien power covered the valley.
Shirou clenched his teeth, ignoring the worry about his student, and took to the battlefield.
It was chaos at first, but soon Zelretch engaged Brunestud in a duel, both combatants rising into the air and allowing the rest of the mages a clear shot. Arcane effects and formulas filled the sky and the ground, beams of destruction slicing through the firmament by the hundreds as luminous shields unfolded above their heads.
But it didn't mean they were safe.
Brunestud answered in kind. Despite Zelretch's onslaught, he found time to rain destruction. Red lightning and ribbons of pure energy descended in a deadly display of might, the attacks effortlessly breaking through every defense. Shirou found himself running across the battlefield, his weapons deflecting and cutting through spells. But even copies of Midjinior melted after a single parry.
The afternoon soon turned into evening and the battle still raged. He occasionally spotted Scathach, her ancient runes creating a sanctuary exhausted mages could rest behind. She was an oasis of safety amidst a desert of death, one of the pockets of resistance scattered across the valley. Spots where exceptionally powerful magi allowed their weaker compatriots a window to retaliate.
Then Shirou made a single mistake.
He missed deflecting a narrow beam of crimson energy, and a pencil-width ray hit him in the middle of his chest. At first, nothing happened, then after a second, the beam disappeared.
Together with most of his upper body.
"… huh?"
He stared dumbly at the hole, a missing chunk the size of a keg, from his belly button up to his neck, and only thin strips of flesh left at his sides. It didn't hurt, a stray thought ran through his mind. It didn't hurt and yet all strength left him and he toppled back. Time seemed to slow down as darkness crept in from the corners of his eyes.
The last thing he saw was the rest of his body splintering into countless silver blades before he hit the ground.
The World of Swords breaks and a Sword that is a World rises.
The Rainbow with ten thousand eyes watches from ten thousand Worlds, and an aurora in the sky dances.
Wisps of Mystery twist the Truth, and the Shadow cuts time in twain.
The Moon casts the earth in shades of red, and the Silver Castle eats reality away.
The Sword gnaws at the eternal bricks, and the Moon breaks the Sword in revenge, until nothing remains.
But the Sword rises again and again, silver painting the plains.
Wrath of the battle shakes the earth, The Moon a titan before the flies.
A power beyond them all, yet ignorance the source of his demise.
The Castle lies in ruins, a million cuts on every brick, and the Moon's radiance wanes.
In spite, the Crimson Disc grows in the sky, to see the future in flames.
The sky falls, death of the World as a final crime.
Yet the children of Gaia cry in defiance one last time.
The Sword bares his heart, and the Moon burns under the light of a Star as the line between Illusion and Reality turns to ash.
The sky glows with a prismatic light that scours away space and time, leaving scars that will never heal. Not even on the Rainbow himself.
The Shadow drinks from darkness and death, and her crimson spear pierces through time and causality itself, striking a foreign heart.
The Wisps fall one by one, their last breaths carrying spite and curses that burrow in the Moon's bones.
Then it's all over, and a silver moon illuminates a silver wasteland.
When the haze of impressions finally turned into something coherent, Shirou found himself in a strange state of… unbeing. He was aware of everything around him, down to the smallest pebble, but his vision was a confusing jumble of a thousand perspectives, although it soon somehow became natural, and he managed to make some sense of his surroundings.
He was in a middle of a silver wasteland, thousands of silver swords of various sizes growing from the bare ground, with weirder effects lingering in some places. Pockets of twisted time and space played tricks on his strange vision, and some spots seemed to exist in multiple states at once, while others burned with magical flames or bubbled with prismatic liquids.
A bit apprehensive, he tried to feel his body, but there was no feedback. Instead, the range of his perspective moved a bit from side to side. So he concentrated harder, trying to somehow force himself into properly waking up. That, at least, gave him some progress.
Sensations returned, albeit reduced as if he was touching everything through a thick leather blanket. In the middle of his awareness, a pile of small silver blades rose from the ground, growing like a stumpy metallic tree, until it took a rough shape of a human. It lacked details or clothing, but it was his body now.
Finally, Shirou opened his physical 'eyes', two orbs of golden-red flames inside silver sockets.
And before him stood Zelretch, a wary expression on his severe face, and a nimbus of magical energy swirling behind him.
"Ah…"
How did he miss him? Despite his now omnipresent 'view' from Eternal Forge, he somehow didn't notice the most powerful mage that attended the battle arrive before him. Although he appeared to be weakened quite a bit. And much older, too. When did this happen?
Before he could voice his questions, another figure landed between them. A familiar form of his student. With her spear in hand. Uh, what was exactly happening here right now?
They ended up in a strange standoff, two powerful mages glaring at each other and clueless Shirou to the side.
"Lady Scathach." Zelretch inclined his head, but his eyes didn't leave Shirou's form.
"Zelretch. Why are you here? Shouldn't the hero of the moment be with the rest?"
The aged mage didn't answer immediately, his eyes flickering to Gae Bolg.
"… to make sure we don't have another monster on our hands. Don't play dumb, Scathach. You saw what he became. Who here could stop him if he decided humans are better off dead?"
"And yet he still fought with us, so don't go starting any witch hunts. And I could say the same about you, too. With this victory, none will dare speak against you no matter what you do, nor anyone could stop you if they tried."
"But I'm still a human. Avel is a fairy. I know you knew him since you were a child, but don't let that blind you to reality." He gestured at their surroundings, a silver desert stretching from horizon to horizon, with silver blades like forests of giant swords everywhere. "What when the Age of Gods finally leaves your homeland and he decides to drown the world in silver to bring it back? Will you say the same, then?"
Scatahch let out a sharp bark of a laugh, her lips twisting into a mocking smile.
"Now who is the one ignoring reality now, Zelretch? As if humans can't be greater monsters than the worst of Phantasmals. If that happens, I'll be the first to oppose him. Don't excuse your fear-mongering with maybes. We all can become monsters, and you know it."
They glared at each other for a few more seconds before Zelretch gave up.
"Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you when that happens."
With that, he left, leaving still lost Shirou with his student. Scathach's shoulders sagged, and she turned to Shirou, a tired expression on her face.
"Teacher. You're impossible sometimes."
Shirou sighed and closed his 'eyes'. What did he do to himself this time?
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well alright then, wonder what exactly happened at the end there, did he infect the world with his marble or something? i am quite curious
do you mean "am i"?