From Shadows (1)

Two months passed relatively uneventful. The news of what happened in Venta Belgarium seems to have spread across the entire fief in less than two days after the entourage returned back home to Londinium.

The people welcomed us back with a large celebration that dragged late into the night, only to end at the early hours of the morning, as people still needed to rest. And then work.

It wasn't like we were utterly safe from any external attacks or even economically insured to manage a full day of rest for everyone considering the era and the circumstances of our national situation.

Instead of enjoying peace to the fullest, I did the best I could to keep the 'blade' of Londinium sharp enough to retaliate against any unwarranted assaults. .

The Picts had managed to destroy the last Germanic Tribes in the east, ending the threat once for all. That was nice, as it meant that we wouldn't be attacked by a massive raid anytime soon.

The issue?

Now we had a new neighbor that was ruled by a certain Witch I really didn't want anything to do about.

Morgan hadn't shown her face after that swift strike to try and bring an end to both her sister and I. Maybe she was still recovering from wounds, or magical exhaustion since the amount of energy used in that assault was nothing negligible even for someone of her caliber.

I didn't care too much about this since I was making as many contingencies as possible to dodge any 'second rounds' after what happened out of Londinium.

The Magus Guild was assigned in creating special 'fields' that were supposed to at least detect and drain the usage of magic whenever a specific pattern was detected within the city.

The Boundary Fields were part of the oldest section of magecraft ever recorded. There wasn't a genuine barrier that could keep anything too powerful out of the city, but those served more as an advantage against any invader.

With this task given, the two months also saw a shift of focus onto two topics I had stupidly ignored for a long time now.

Medicine and Metallurgy.

Both were subjects that were meant to be improved if I wanted to keep up the current advantage I had over my enemies.

The former was to avoid any major sickness to strike suddenly at the fief's population. I made sure to create a 'royal-funded' commission of 'healers and experts' that were to be employed as public doctors.

Despite Felicianus' early opposition to the establishment of regular autopsies to study the causes of people's deaths, the Bishop had to bit back any comments as I brought up how this wasn't the first time a nation went through this kind of studies.

The Egyptians were a known example of treating corpses, but instead of using that topic to merely 'pay respect to Gods' or 'make the dead ready for the afterlife', we were going to use this practice 'to understand the extent of illnesses more thoroughly.

Special equipment was issued by my decree, with numerous specialists ordered to wear the appropriate 'uniform' before treating patients or autopsies.

I also saw it fit to institute basic rules for the doctors to follow. Starting from the need to 'sterilize' their hands and medical tools before actually starting any assignment, of writing down any new symptoms or illnesses they could spot on their patients.

Pasteurization wasn't properly introduced since there weren't the proper tools to implement the precise method, but the need of 'heating up' liquids like milk and wine slowly became a norm before selling these products.

I was in no conditions to genuinely create a textbook myself for the new 'medical discoveries'. I knew the basis of medicine after going through an extensive First Aid course, but I was terribly lacking in employing the more advances laws of the subject.

The next focus was something correlated to the need of refining the weaponry production. The techniques that were being used by the local blacksmiths were still close to what the Late Romans were capable of, and while that was still good compared to the chaotic ignorance curtailing progress in continental Europe, I still needed to see some advancements done in this department too.

Conventions were issued, with two meetings having already taken place to discuss of the various known techniques of metallurgy. Reluctance ensued early on considering the 'rivalry' between the various workers of the same sector, but the incentive of actually promoting a renewed Blacksmith guild that could guarantee everyone's part in society seemed to dissuade any protesters.

With newer sources of iron being found, I decided against pushing for an aggressive production of blades for my army to use. It was mostly because the available army had plenty of equipment to use, and that any surplus would just be unproductive with the lack of major recruitment campaigns.

I was holding back from bolstering the army's ranks too quickly to avoid any 'fright' from our newer adversary.

King Loth was… reluctant to attack. The border between our 'fiefs' was relatively stable, but I suspected that it was mostly because he was trying to integrate the new lands.

Not everyone was happy with the new set of rules even though those were certainly better than the ones used by the barbarians. Revolts were common news coming from 'beyond the curtain' and waves of immigrants from the north weren't that much of a novelty nowadays.

Everyone was accepted, but none were immediately given major roles within society. Nobles fled too, but I was reluctant to allow any of those too close to the local aristocracy and the castle.

I've read plenty of 'rogue' dukes and counts trying to make the best of their suicidal situations, either killing their target or even going as far as sabotaging their 'savior' so that their real lord could strike at their true enemies.

And with the migration from the north, housing became once again a problem.

Creating new houses turned into an important priority as to avoid issues of over-population within the city.

New sections of the city were granted for constructions of buildings, with the plans correlated to the expansion of the walls changed to better fit these new changes.

The new influx of coin coming from the cities in the south, now endeared with what had happened in Venta Belgarum, introduced new proposals to the growing two-years plan I had established.

I wasn't planning to pull a flex worth of the trouble caused by the infamous Soviet Five-Years Plans, but I was still hoping to create a stable 'modern nation' out of what territories I've carved from recent events.

There was no reason to doubt that a political and social evolution to the degree I expected would happen just before the conclusion of that extensive plan, but I was already having trouble to believe that all economic objectives were going to be completed.

It didn't help that I had to also satisfy both merchants and the Church by establishing some trade posts by the nearby town-ports and a proper 'place of religion' for Christianity here in Londinium.

A Cathedral was going to be quite an investment for sure to cement my control over the local Church. From the way Felicianus reacted to the news, almost ready to hum his way out with the brightest of smile, I sure knew that this was going to be a successful PR campaign.

With the economy still booming from the current developments and Londinium growing steadily into a large hub of culture and civilization, most of my real worries were directed to a concern more personal to my part.

Altuos had confirmed once more as he took the broken pieces of Caliburn and the cracked Crocea Mors that both weapons were now devoid of their previous runic powers.

Marcus was obviously pissed at this development, but his anger was mostly directed at the 'witch that should have been killed at birth'. It sounded harsh, but considering how attached the man was to war and Rome, it was obvious that losing Caesar's sword was going to bring the worst out of him.

At least this fury eclipsed the annoyance he showed when he first heard of the 'fun brawl' that happened at Venta Belgarum…

Still, returning to the swords, the runes were still there to be noticed, partly at least. But there was no way to restore a stable use of their respective purposes through known magecraft.

Studying Caliburn's pieces, the elder also pointed out that the sword was actually deceiving considering that the runes were actually faulty on some bits.

It was meant to indeed unleash a large blast of magical power that was created by the user's own reserves, but the runes meant to stabilize and genuinely make the thing not explode on the user's hands were far too weak and inferior to keep up with the others.

Another trick of Merlin? Or maybe the Wizard hadn't planned for Artoria to make use of Caliburn's secondary purpose?

I restrained myself from pointing this out in the last three letters exchanged with Ria, the girl having her own troubles as she returned back to her domains.

Another revolt happened, and surprisingly enough a large part of her 'trusted' lords had joined the rebellious side. While the situation had appeared grim early on, things changed when Ria herself took charge of the situation and personally spearheaded a fight towards the ringleader of this rebellion.

A man with vast wealth and interest in fighting, Galehaut was easily won over by the staunch bravery and masterful fighting employed by the lone knight that he would soon discover being the King he thought too detached from the people to follow.

I quickly warned the girl about any strange attitude from the man, mentioning that I had 'heard' of some suspicious tales about him.

While it was merely alluded in Lancelot's legend that Galehaut would quickly fawn after the one that stole his attention and drawn him to this particular stage of the world, my panic was settled when the young woman confirmed that she was now 'getting married'.

At first I was confused, but then I learned that a month after our encounter, King Arthur ended up marrying the daughter of King Leodegrance of Cornouaille, Brittany.

I could tell from many notes left around by the blonde that it was mostly one of convenience. Guinevere was someone that had caught her attention as someone that didn't seem high-maintenance compared to other young maiden that could be pursued as wives, and her father's pedigree made it possible that her claim as a King was further cemented into stone.

I congratulated her for the 'celebrations', but I had to politely decline an invitation to the event by citing the fact that Morgan's puppet kingdom was bordering with my own fief.

She seemed saddened, a little bit annoyed, but understanding that if I vacated the throne for too long the chances of her sister picking up this chance to take over Londinium were going to be pretty high.

But while that reason was a good one to skip the feast, I was more worried about a 'smaller' issue correlated to it.

I knew the legend of King Arthur, I knew what happened with Lancelot- and I really didn't want to have the entire island embroiled in a big war because of some Iliad-based BS.

There were other elements that drove the loyal knight to go through that kind of issues, but I also knew that things could also turn differently… and still ends in the worst case scenario.

Against trying to jinx the current state of tranquility I've managed to achieve through careful diplomacy with the independent petty kingdoms, I tried to finally handle the last of my real worries.

While Altuos was adamant that his guild couldn't do much about the swords, his initiative to research for a particular way to solve this problem left many to hope for his success.

It was mostly Marcus, but I wasn't certainly grimacing over the opportunity of having my sword back.

Two months went by, with numerous books being employed and old artifacts unraveled as to discover a mean to resolve this problem and… then a possible lead was found.

It happened fairly suddenly, and I was still drowning in my paperwork to notice the giddy-looking Altuos peeking over by the doorstep of my office.

Lancelot had been sitting on the chair in front of the desk and me, trying to get a little bit of rest. Noticing the elder at the door, he swiftly stood up and his armor loudly drew my attention away from the documents.

"Altuos? Is everything-"

"Your Highness, we've found a solution!"

The loud outburst caught me off-guard, but still I soon found myself following the old man around the castle, my curiosity increasing the more he continued to talk.

A gate? And where does it take?

The dark sand and dirt beneath my boots felt incredibly cold. Dead.

I don't know what I was expecting when Altuos gave me a proper explanation of what kind of place I was currently visiting.

The red moon grandly illuminating my path was incredibly chilling to look at, and the crooked trees on the side of this tiny road didn't do much to assuage my current state of uneasiness.

Despite my dread, I continued to keep a hand over the hilt of the sword Marcus gave me in case I needed it… against the overlord of this place.

A place of silence, a place owned just by the death. Shadows festered in this land devoid of light.

The Gate recovered by Altuos was one that had been 'contained' within one of the unused rooms of the castle. Letters full of cautions from Latin Magi displayed how dangerous of a tool this was, one that wasn't meant to generally bring boons to those that used it.

A treasure recovered from one of the early Roman assaults to the Picts, one that had been kept a secret from Rome itself for how much dangerous of a portal it was to anyone that craved for the power maliciously kept behind its innocuous appearance.

And the elder knew exactly what lingered behind it.

The Land of Shadows was a realm long considered lost to Britain. It was once relevant when some of the more prominent heroes of the Ulster's Cycle ended up training under the strict guidance of the owner of such a terrible fief.

A witch, a warrior, a powerful woman- Scathach was one of the few figures in old legends that made her tall figure compared to many others.

Once the ruler of Dun Scaith, a castle that currently was under the control of King Loth, the former teacher of Cu Chulainn and his son Connla was known for her prowess in battle, and her ruthless war-handling before she tied herself to this realm.

Curiosity? Boredom? What drove someone so important into detaching from mortals' affairs?

The stories were various and most of those were unrelated to each other. The ones Altuos brought weren't of the pleasant kind, especially since I was now supposed to meet up with this supposed 'spirit'.

Those that live within the shadows and embrace those… they forsake their own humanity. They abandon their mortality and they challenge their limits into either dying or becoming something… more.

I wasn't enticed by the challenge, nor did I want to linger in this unpleasant realm for too long. Heck, I wasn't even expecting for things to take this weird turn and… even now, as I thought back about my decision to explore on my own and leave Lancelot and Marcus behind, I couldn't help but facepalm at how moronic I was being.

The broken parts of both Caliburn and Crocea Mors were safely stored on the backpack I was currently keeping on my back, and while the offer was simple to complete considering her legendary knowledge over runes, I was unsure if Schathach would accept this request without asking for anything too grand in return.

I was tense, but still determined enough to go through that hellish experience. The wind was chilling, and for a brief moment I felt a pair of hands over my shoulders, grasping from behind.

It reminded me too much of the few times I ended up visiting graveyards. Either to remember a passed relative, or to help around some friends' own situations with this kind of problems.

Allowing a shiver or two to break my tense composure, I found myself stopping as my eyes caught a strange 'obstacle' to my stare up to the moon. One that wasn't there when I first started to delve in that dead forest.

A lone figure, her purple hair were left free and waving at the wind. A tiny dark mask covering her lips and cheeks while her red eyes were staring down in the most chilling way possible. A large red spear was firmly grasped on her right hand.

I merely blinked once, only to find that the figure was gone.

Goddammit, it's going down like one of those scary horror movies!

"What is the purpose that led you to my domains, young child?"

My eyes widened in shock as I felt her voice, regal and somewhat tired, coming from right behind me.

I slowly turned around, only to be regarded with the same figure. Now that she was closer, I could see that the woman was wearing a full-body outfit with metal pads over her shoulders.

It took me a moment to realize that she was giving me an annoyed look as… I had been ogling at her gorgeous frame for too long.

"A-Apologies." I gave a slight bow. "Forgive me for being stunned by your beauty, Queen Scathach-"

"I'm no longer a ruler of mortal fiefs, so please refrain from doing such mistakes," She chided quietly, yet her features softened just a little bit at the quick apology. "But I suppose your visit here dictates that you behave prim and properly. But do speak, who decided to visit my realm and ask for my guidance?"

"To be fair it's… a lesser request than that, Lady Scathach," I replied nervously. "It has to do with the restorations of shattered runes."

She blinked, her red eyes widening… but not in surprise. Merely in a flash of curiosity and perplexity.

"And your liege deems me so unimportant that he request this lesser offer?" The woman inquired slightly offended. "Perhaps he's an oaf? Or maybe daft?"

I blinked at that, just now noticing that she hadn't realized just yet that I was the kind she was throwing insults at.

And I really was feeling quite sassy. Enough to go through the limit enforced by my own logic.

"I reckon he's quite dumb at times, but I can share his sentiment that this job isn't as easy as you're making it seem."

"Speak for yourself, child- and to be audacious enough to speak ill of your king?" Scathath looked aggravated and… confused. "I suppose he's indeed foolish to allow his own subjects to speak so brazenly of his flaws. But do reveal the item that urged your presence within my realm."

I frowned. "I thought you weren't willing for the-"

"I still am against it, but I now wish to see what kind of silly request your fool of a king desired to impose upon myself," She interrupted, looking particularly bored. "So please, unveil the object."

I carefully reached for my backpack and pulled out the cloth holding both Caliburn's remains and the cracked Crocea Mors.

Unveiling both blades, I allowed the woman to come closer and study the state of both blades.

Scathach blinked, her red eyes scanning over what could only be described a saddening scene for sure, but from the way she was giving attention at the tools, I could tell she was changing idea of the matter the more she looked at the devastated swords.

"Truly a tragic sight to be bestowed," She lamented neutrally. "While I don't linger too much over new blades, I do find it dreadful when proper runic works are ruined in such a manner. I suppose it was through combat."

I nodded. "They clashed against each other while using their full might."

"Intriguing, truly," The purple-haired woman admitted as her left hand landed on Crocea Mors' surface before she gave it a proper touch. "One could say it was fated to happen."

Not truly. I mean… was it? I certainly couldn't remember myself becoming King of Britain in the books I've studied from.

"Yet it's mostly odd how a King, albeit a stupid and daft one, could leave these precious swords under the care of one of his subjects," She mused with a hint of surprise and suspect. "And I guess he's not much of a fool now that I think about it. Maybe he's more of a… 'jester'."

With that 'correction', her stare lifted up to my eyes and I cracked a tiny nervous smile.

"I prefer the term 'comedian'," I replied weakly. "Ya know, making a few jokes on the side and get some amused looks from time to time."

She blinked. "I'm not entertained."

I frowned. "I think you're lying to me."

Her eyes narrowed at the accusation.

"What?"

"Did you know that your mask isn't hiding when you twitch a smile?" I pointed out, drawing a wide-eyed expression as her left hand unconsciously reached for her covered lips.

I didn't snort, but I really wanted to now that I saw that reaction.

Seriously, she was supposed to be a couple of centuries old now and yet she looked so gorgeous and… cute.

After a few quiet seconds went by like this, Scathach seemed to realize that I was looking at her with an amused smile and… she huffed, tensing up and bringing her hand away from her mask.

"Ruffian. You've yet to introduce yourself and you deem this worth of entertainment?"

"Shouldn't I?" I rebuked fiercely, narrowing my eyes back at her. "But yes, I suppose I can concede on the fact I didn't introduce myself."

I sighed, bowing my head forward once again.

"I'm King Joseph of Britannia, the first of his name, ruler of Londinium, bane of the Germanic Tribe, comedian on the side, and currently seeking some fixing for my blades."

She stared at me with a harsher look, as if finding my introduction fairly outrageous. But the more she stared, the more I noticed her entire body twitching and trying to bend a little bit. Her lips were trying to hold back a smile and then-

"Y-You- You are a King? A little mortal with- Hahahahahahaha!"

Closing my eyes, I tried to ignore the laughing. It was melodious but at the same time was hurting my 'feels' a lot. Also, I could tell that my masculinity was begging for me to draw blood out of that slight.

It was incredibly disrespectful from her part, but I wasn't anywhere annoyed by it as I remembered a couple of things about her legend.

"At least I still have a legitimate fief to rule."

My words brought in an instantaneous reaction out of the Scathach.

The former queen paused mid-laugh, with her eyes widening in surprise at that dissing.

"You- What?"

"Sure, it's cool to have a home called the 'Land of Shadows'. Really cool… except nobody can tell how cool it is."

The powerful woman huffed. "If you're trying to insult me, then you're failing miserably-"

"I mean, it's kind of ironic that Dun Scaith is owned by a witch that hates her sister," I added before she could end that sentence. "Makes one wonder how true the saying 'history repeats itself' is in these dreadful times."

…

"You seem to know a lot about me, and yet I'm sure some of the legends had faded over time."

"I know stuff," I replied at her accusations. "I read books, I study mythology, and I pat my own back when said knowledge is being aptly used."

"And what kind of King would prefer to read instead of fighting, to learn about life through experience?"

"To be fair I study and I train by sword in a balanced manner, but I guess the main reason is making sure that I keep up with my people's expectations," I responded proudly. "To make sure my domain is never subjected to tyranny and despair. That my subjects find happiness within the lives I improve for them."

"You seek refinement through knowledge and fight?" Scathach inquired with a hint of intrigue. "Surely you have other reasons to go through these deeds and actions. Glory? A greater purpose?"

I half-shrugged, keeping a look over the still exposed swords. "I've already answered that question as genuinely as I could."

"And what if I call you a liar? What if I told you I don't believe your words?"

"Then I suppose my actions will speak truer than the greatest of words," I rebuked with a nod. "As actions speak louder than words."

…

"Despite your age, you sure are idealistic with your rulership."

I sighed. "Just trying to make the best out of my reign."

The former queen nodded, her glance lowering back at the blades as she seemed to be thinking of something.

"What are their names?"

My jaws parted for a moment in surprise… but I nodded and replied.

"The cracked sword is 'Crocea Mors', while the pieces were once the sword named 'Caliburn'."

"Their names are different from each other and… from anything I've heard before," Scathach admitted, some interest piqued at that discovery. "I suppose they were made by two different rune-makers."

"Yes."

…

Surely she hadn't changed idea like this. Up until now she had sounded so irked by my presence, almost annoyed when I started to insult her back… so why would she be this open for this request?

"I think… I will work on these," The woman muttered with a nod. "But this job shan't be one devoid of a price."

I nodded slowly, tanking in the surprise of this offer being accepted.

"And the price is?"

She blinked, glancing at the moon for a moment.

"Tomorrow morning, present yourself once more here in my realm," Scathach stated. "I suppose the gate you used to reach my domain is connected to your castle. So I don't think you will have any problem to arrive punctually as asked."

I nodded again. "But… why?"

She hummed, purposely looking away from me.

"It will be explained when the time is due," The former queen replied calmly. "Now leave me with the swords. I shall study those at once so that you may acquire a stronger tool out of those."

Frowning at her insistence to not tell me the truth, I decided to nod in defeat and concede the swords to her.

Just as I started to walk around her and back to where I came from, I felt her voice reach my ears one last time before I left her surroundings.

"And remember. Address me as 'Teacher' from now on."