chpater 9

5

Chapter Text

"Welcome, little mouse," Jeanne Alter glared at me, "to your death. You and your friends will bother me no more."

At those words, Mordred and Jeanne shifted themselves around so that they stood protectively before me

"My, you have been quite a persistent mouse, and yet you say nothing?"

"What is there that I can say? That you have been wronged, but that your actions aren't justified? Or, that I should curse you for your actions, for your attempts to kill my friends and I?" I said firmly, catching the Dragon Witch off-guard. "DO you want me to say that I hate you, and that I will gratefully watch your death? Or perhaps you want me to insult you by asking for your surrender?" I continued, crossing my arms over my chest, unwilling to budge. "If my time here has taught me anything, raging anger and hatred bring nothing. Tell me, Jeanne d'Arc the Dragon Witch…have your actions truly brought you satisfaction? Do you feel happy with yourself?" I asked, meaning every word. I wasn't trying to insult our foe.

Something just doesn't feel right about her situation, however. With the amount of wyverns she had at the start of the battle, there shouldn't have been any towns left intact. But yet there were, and a part of me wondered if her heart truly wasn't in what she claimed to desire. Jeanne Alter said nothing for a few long seconds, staring expressionlessly at me. In the meantime, we could still here the sounds of combat behind, and the tension built up ever further.

"Tch! What a bunch of damn nonsense!" The pale girl finally said with a glare. "It matters not. I will admit, you arrived faster than I though. I didn't even have time to modify the spell—" Jeanne Alter's complaining was interrupted thankfully.

"Dragon Witch." Those two words, or rather, the one who said them caused the fallen Ruler to close her mouth, and look at Jeanne, who gazed back without flinching. The expression on the alternate version of Jeanne seemed to have finally noticed her for the first time, her attention having been focused solely on me.

"So, you finally made it here, huh? It seems that Gilles is preoccupied dealing with your other friends," she said, before shrugging slightly. "I suppose that's fine. Everything is ready." Next to me, we could hear Jeanne muttering under her breath.

"Tell her what she needs to hear. That was Marie's instruction to me," the Maid of Orléans said before speaking louder once more. "I have another thing to ask of you as well." The Dragon Witch shook her head while shrugging.

"It's too late for tal—"

"It's a very simple question," Jeanne said persistently. "Do you remember your family?" Ok, that was unexpected. In fact, the only one who wasn't caught off guard was the saint herself.

"What?" Mordred grunted under her helmet.

"…Huh?" Jeanne Alter finally managed to say, her head tilted slightly to one side in confusion.

"Jeanne?" I asked. The Ruler didn't respond to me, her eyes fixed solely on her fallen self.

"I asked you a simple question. No matter how vivid my memories of battle are, I remember far more of my life as a simple country girl," Jeanne said with a soft smile, no doubt recalling such tender moments even now. "Even my dark side should remember those peaceful days. No, it's precisely because she remembers them—that the hatred and betrayal brought her such pain," she added, gazing sympathetically at her alternate self.

The Dragon Witch looked unsure of herself. "I…I..." She tried to say something, but whatever it was, it was refusing to be said. Jeanne sighed at Jeanne Alter's reaction.

"I see," she said sadly. "You don't remember, do you?"

"What…what does it matter?" The Dragon Witch spat the words out, but even then, it felt a little less hateful than it should have. "Whether I remember or not, I'm still Jeanne d'Arc!" She roared, slamming her flagstaff into the ground hard, cracking the stone floor. Was it just me, or did she sound like she was trying to convince herself, just as Elisabeth had shortly before done the same in trying to convince herself about the castle's interior being bad.

"That's right," Jeanne said with a kind nod. "It doesn't matter whether you remember." She placed the butt of her own flagstaff against the floor. "But this settles it. I shall defeat the Dragon Witch with sadness, not anger," she said. She really did have a forgiving and caring heart, it seems. Her words, though, merely riled up the fallen Ruler further.

"Shut up! Let's fight!" She snarled, a fire in her yellow eyes. "Will despair win, or will hope win? Will murderous intent win, or will pity win? Let's see if you can surpass me," the Dragon Witch said angrily, preparing herself for the battle that was about to start, "Jeanne d'Arc!"

"Enough damn talking! Ruler, let's finish this!" Mordred barked, activating her Mana Burst ability once more, flooding her body with energy as she took up an offensive stance with Clarent. Next to her, Jeanne nodded, twirling her own weapon deftly before leveling the spear tip towards Jeanne Alter.

"Right!" was all she said before the Dragon Witch began to laugh cruelly, her eyes narrowed. Then the fallen Ruler sprang forward, charging her two opponents.

I watched as it appeared that Jeanne Alter was bearing down on 'herself', no doubt desiring to finally achieve her supposed desire of destroying the Ruler. Jeanne responded by spreading out her legs slightly to brace herself as she began to rapidly twirl her own weapon like a windmill, intent on deflecting the strike. Next to her, Mordred raised Clarent, and if I had to guess what her move would be, it was to strike out at the Dragon Witch from the side.

At the last minute, however, the flagstaff bearing down at them shifted directions, and Mordred leapt back as Jeanne Alter shifted her charge towards the Knight of Rebellion, thrusting forward fiercely at the last second.

Thanks to her quick reaction, the spear tip merely skidded off of Mordred's breastplate, leaving a long metallic streak across the red-accented metal. I could hear Mordred's angry snarl as she lashed out clumsily with Clarent, with the intent more of pushing Jeanne Alter back than to cause damage.

Smirking cruelly, the Dragon Witch leapt backwards before suddenly skidding on her knees, ducking under Jeanne's own thrust from the side before lashing out at the Ruler this time, aiming low. Jeanne released a short cry of surprise as the polearm slammed into her feet, sweeping her off of her feet and sending her sprawling onto her back. Her follow-up strike thankfully was diverted first by the flat of Clarent, then a follow-up right hook from Mordred that sent the Dragon Witch skidding backwards for several yards.

I bit the inside of my cheek, nervous. Though I hadn't gotten the chance of seeing Jeanne Alter's fighting style until now, I had assumed that it would be more like the one used by my Jeanne. It turns out I was half-right. She does use the same fighting style and moves, but they are crueler, brutish. Savage.

"She's stronger than I expected," Jeanne muttered as she got back up onto her feet, warily watching the scowling alternate version of herself. Mordred scoffed under her helmet at the Ruler's observation.

"Tch! It doesn't matter how strong, only that she falls!" Mordred retorted aggressively, before charging forward, swinging Clarent in a series of powerful two-handed strikes. The unrelenting offensive apparently surprised the Dragon Witch, even as she spun and twirled her weapon, blocking strike after strike, sparks flying up between them each time metal smashed itself against metal. What must have been seconds began to feel like countless minutes creeping by as I watch yet another dance of death.

Jeanne kept herself back, an unhappy expression on her face at being unable to directly assist her fellow blonde Servant at the moment, though knowing that in this case, Mordred very well might be the best of the two to wear down the corrupted version of the Maid of Orléans.

The flurry of blocked strikes and counterstrikes soon led to a stalemate between the armored knight and the pale, short-haired blonde, the latter of whom opened her mouth and began to address her opponent in a mocking and condescending tone, cruelty glinting plainly in her yellow eyes.

"Ha! If you truly are Mordred like your pathetic mouse called you, then are you really any 'better' than I am? You too destroyed a nation when you led others to take up arms against King Arthur. You destroyed the golden era of Britain, and single-handedly slew a legend as you committed betrayal, siblicide, and finally patricide! Face it, you're not much different than I," Jeanne leered, staring into the slits of Mordred's helmet as the Knight of Rebellion began to shake angrily. These words revealed nothing I hadn't already known about Mordred's legend before I summoned her, so if she was trying to indirectly cause me to turn against the blonde knight, the Dragon Witch would be sorely mistaken.

What they did do, however, was fan Mordred's aggression into an inferno. Her composure was gone, and if I could see her eyes right now, they would undoubtedly have been filled with pure anger and a desire to murder the sneering Servant before her.

Small streaks of red lightning covered her body as she activated her Mana Burst ability once again, pushing her physical strength to the limits as I could hear Jeanne Alter's pole beginning to groan and even bend under the new force Mordred was exerting onto Clarent. I could see the look of disbelief and confusion on the Dragon Witch's face as she began to reap the whirlwind she had just sown.

"You speak of things you know nothing, witch!" Mordred roared angrily, letting go of Clarent's hilt with her right hand, balling it into a metal-coated fist before slamming it into Jeanne Alter's face. There was an oddly satisfying breaking sound as the Dragon Witch hissed loudly in pain, blood flowing down her face courtesy of her now broken nose.

Not letting it up for a moment, Mordred punched her again and again, forcing the fallen Ruler to give ground as Mordred once more began to fight like a Berserker. Standing between me and the two fighting Servants, Jeanne looked over her shoulder at me, concern for her comrade clearly on display. The look she shot me conveyed the silent request for new instructions.

"Don't let Mordred get herself killed! And if you see a chance to strike from the side, do it!" I said rapidly, focusing on the raging Saber. The knight in question continued wailing away at a now-fearful looking Dragon Witch, who was now realizing her folly.

Soon, gaps began to appear in the fallen Ruler's guard, and Jeanne noticed a big one, readying both her weapon and her resolve perhaps for what she was about to do.

"This is the end for you, Dragon Witch," Jeanne said firmly as she thrusted her spear tip straight through the unprotected and exposed left armpit. At the same time, Mordred thrusted forth with Clarent, and the blade of the massive sword punched its way through Jeanne Alter's torso armor, impaling her. My two Servants then leapt backwards, taking up defensive stances to either side of me as the three of us cautiously waited to see if enough damage had been dealt by the two devastating attacks.

"What?" Jeanne gasped in pain, holding the mortal wounds. Her flagpole clatters to the ground as she gazed at the sad-looking Jeanne, then the hidden face of Mordred, then finally me. "Im-Impossible. Ridiculous. This can't be happening. It's a lie," she said rapidly, her face scrunched up in pain as she stepped over to the Summoning Circle we had found her in. "Because I—have the Holy Grail—!" She said, limping over to the object in question. "The owner of the Holy Grail knows no defeat. That's how it should be!" She said defiantly even as she collapsed onto the ground. She propped her body up and glared at us, perhaps expecting to be mocked by us.

For all the devastation, suffering, and death she had inflicted, at this moment, I couldn't find an ounce of satisfaction in her state, both for her body and now her psyche.

"Oh, Jeanne! Jeanne!" A voice wailed from behind as the doors slammed open. I heard Mordred shout my name before an armored figure tackled me to the side as a badly-wounded Gilles rushed into the room. The others, both Ritsuka's group and Elisabeth and Sasaki, stood in the doorway, some of them looking battered, but otherwise uninjured in any serious manner.

The crazed Caster rushed over to the fallen Ruler, falling onto his knees and hugging her close to him. Her blood brightened his dark robes, but he didn't care, his attention focused solely on the defeated Ruler. "What a pitiful sight you are!" Gilles continued to wail.

"Gilles…" Jeanne Alter said softly. Her tone was difficult to listen to as her body began to dissolve, her final wound finally taking its ultimate toll. Gilles shushed her softly, a smile lacking malice or arrogance on his lips as he cradled the dying girl.

"But now that I, Gilles de Rais, am here, you can rest," Gilles said in a surprisingly gentle and caring manner. Now then, sleep in peace," he urged. Jeanne Alter's arms and legs had vanished, leaving only a torso in place as her eyelids slowly drooped down as she shook her head weakly.

"But…I still haven't…" she said in protest. "I haven't destroyed France…"

"I will take care of that," Gilles promised dutifully to his beloved Jeanne. "Leave everything to me. Don't worry. You will never die," he said in one of the most blatant lies I had ever heard. Even though we were mortal enemies on this day, I wouldn't render useless his efforts to ease the passing of Jeanne d'Arc Alter. "You're just a little…a little tired. Close your eyes, and rest," Gilles said, sounding less and less of a mad noble and more like a father comforting his child now. "When you awake, I'll have finished everything."

His words appeared to have done the trick, for Jeanne Alter nodded her head with a small smile on her face. For once, it felt innocent, and more like one of Jeanne's smiles. "Yes, yes you're right," she said, closing her eyes. Only her head was left now. "Gilles…if you'll fight for me, I can rest…and…"

With those final words, the Dragon Witch departed, leaving in her wake a silent audience and an equally silent Gilles, still on his knees. His arms were still outstretched, as if the cradle the body that had just left. He said nothing, a blank expression on his face before he suddenly reached out with one arm and grabbed the nearby Grail.

"So that's how it ended up, after all," Jeanne finally said. Gilles laughed softly, still sounding like his younger self fighting to save his country outside the castle.

"You have a powerful intuition," he said in response, pushing himself up onto unsteady feet. It seems that the Caster hadn't much longer left to be alive, even if his body wasn't dissolving yet.

"Um, Jeanne?" Mash asked hesitantly, as she and the others walked up behind us. "What exactly—" The Demi-Servant started to ask the Ruler before the latter politely cuts her off.

"It wasn't the Dragon Witch who possessed the Holy Grail before us," Jeanne said, before frowning sternly at the now-grinning Gilles. "No, actually that Servant never existed in the Thrones of Heroes. As long as she wasn't an aspect of my darkness, there was no other conclusion I could make. Then there was the matter of her massive amount of strength. That couldn't have been anything but the Holy Grail. In other words, the Dragon Witch herself—"

"Was nothing but a wish created by a twisted Servant," I snarled, the pieces finally coming together. I stared at the remorseless Caster with narrowed eyes, my hackles raised. His parting words really were nothing but lies, told to a dying girl who by all means shouldn't have existed, and will not exist again. Even though she had tried to kill me and mine, no one deserved to live like that, born of a dark desire.

"Exactly. The Dragon Witch herself was my wish. A wish to revive you," He said with a small smile, pointing at a now-horrified Jeanne. "It was a wish from the bottom of my heart. Of course it was. And yet, and yet, the Grail rejected me. For all its supposed omnipotent power, it said it couldn't do that!" The Caster's smile turned into a scowl, his hands curled into shaking fists. "But my wish was only for you! So, I created a new you! The Saint I believed in! The Saint I longed for! I! Created! Her! Jeanne d'Arc…the Dragon Witch!" Gilles roared.

"I see," Jeanne said in disappointment, shaking her head at the ranting Servant. "But of course, she never learned that, did she? Even if you could revive me, I would never become your Dragon Witch," she said with a sad, sympathetic smile. "It's true that I was betrayed. It's true that I was mocked. A tragic end, that is the only way one could describe it. But I could never hate my homeland. The land where you and the others we fought alongside and for lived."

"So kind," Gilles finally said with closed eyes and a longing smile. "Your words are far too kind. However, Jeanne, that very kindness has made you forget one thing. Even if you never hated this country," Gilles paused and took a deep breath before his eyes opened, filled with anger and hatred. "I HATED THIS COUNTRY! I swore that I would destroy it for its betrayal. You will forgive them, I'm sure. But I never will! Not God, not the king, not the nation! I'll destroy them all. I'll kill them all! That, that is the wish that I made upon the Holy Grail! So, I warn you, DO NOT GET IN MY WAY, JEANNE D'ARC!" Gilles roared

"Enough!" I roared back, fed up with this…this…monster! The anger in my tone silenced even the crazed Servant, and I could feel Mordred, Jeanne, all the others, gazing at me in concern. My wrath made me focus only on the one responsible for this mess.

"You condemned someone to a half-life at best! You lied to the Dragon Witch, and led her to believe she was real. She may have been only a foe, but few deserve such a life. A life as a glorified tool. A life as little more than a perverted fantasy of someone you claim to love! And what about the women and children of this land? The old and infirm? The peasants? Did they betray your beloved Jeanne?" I spat onto the ground between us.

"Gilles de Rais, as a Master of Chaldea, and therefore a protector of humanity, I judge you guilty. The sentence is death, to be carried out now. Mordred!"

"Yes, Master?"

"Finish this…this…scum," I said, unable to put up with his existence any longer. He reminded me too much of Lev, of how he manipulated Director Animusphere. Not again. Never again.

"With pleasure," Mordred growled, stepping forward with her helmet now retracted. Gilles laughed, however,

"So, I see that the betrayed was killed by a betrayer. Mordred, the spawn of Morgan le Fay, and murderer of King Arthur Pendragon." Mordred stiffened at those words, and I could see her hands clenching the hilt of Clarent. Gilles smiled mockingly.

"I mistook your 'father' for my beloved Jeanne once. It seems that I have learned something else. Take this as a final piece of advice."

"Not. Interested," Mordred hissed, but the Caster ignored her.

"Your father and Jeanne have something in common," Gilles giggled cruelly, all the while glaring at Mordred. "They were both killed by betrayal. How long until you cause the death of your Master, I wonder?" Mordred clutched Clarent so tightly that I expected to see blood leaking out if she wasn't wearing her gauntlets. Her emerald eyes burned angrily as she stared at the dying Caster.

"Be silent, fiend!" She roared, swinging Clarent and diagonally bisecting the Caster. Even as the blade cleaved through the unprotective robes and the body they hid, Gilles continued cackling, taking enjoyment it seems of Mordred's rage. Those dying laughter echoed around the chamber even after its owner had vanished.

My anger left my body, replaced with concern at Mordred, who bent down and grabbed the Grail. As I walked over to her, I could hear her whispering to herself.

"I guess I finally got the Grail…wish you were here, Master," Mordred said in a tone mixed with sadness, bitterness, and mourning. She straightened up the moment she noticed me, her expression turning blank, staring at me with guarded eyes.

"Mordred," I said softly, reaching out a hand towards her. "Are you okay?"

"Master. Not now," she said firmly, before adding one more word. "Please." That one word told me how rattled she was right now. I struggled to remember the last time I heard her use the word in its proper way. Biting the corner of my left lip softly, I nodded unhappily.

"As you wish. It can wait until you're ready to talk about it when we return to Chaldea," I finally said calmly, ensuring that the knight wouldn't think that I was going to drop this. At that moment, my commlink chimed, and I activated it, gesturing for the others to gather round as Doctor Roman's voice came through.

"The Grail recovery is complete," said the acting-director. "The timeline restoration is about to start. Rayshift preparations are ready, so stand by for your return!"

"Understood. See you on the other side," I said, before looking up at Jeanne.

"You're leaving? So soon?" She asked kindly. I nodded in response.

"Yes. Ritsuka and I don't belong in this era, and we still have work to do," I said. Behind her, I saw that the two Servants we met from Thiers were already starting to dissolve, their own purpose here completed.

"Oh, do you now?" Elisabeth huffed with crossed arms. "Well, I've achieved my goal, so I suppose it's fine," the Lancer said with an exaggerated sigh. "Goodbye, little puppies. You both fought fairly well," she added with a lopsided smile. Next to her, Kiyohime stared at Ritsuka with a mixture of sorrow and longing.

"Oh my, this is goodbye?" The Berserker asked rhetorically before shaking her head with a rather mischievous smile present. "Don't worry, Master. I can be rather persistent. No matter where you go, I'll follow." Is this a goodbye or a threat for Ritsuka? "That's what love is, after all, you know?" No, that is called obsession. Thankfully, the two of them finished dissolving. I looked back at Jeanne, my temporary Servant. The blonde opened her mouth, but a different voice interrupted her.

"Jeanne!" Gilles, or rather, the Gilles of the light, ran into the room, his armor scorched, battered, his face cut, but excitement filled his eyes and voice. Jeanne spun around with a wide, earnest smile on her lips.

"Gilles!" She said happily, as her old comrade ran up to her and hugged her tightly, a gesture she more than happily returned.

"What happened? Are you…are you alive?" Gilles asked hurriedly. "France is in ruins, but…if you're alive, that's enough!" He said, desperation creeping into his voice. Jeanne stepped back, shaking her head as she smiled at the armored man.

"No, that's not true. I'm sure that on some level you understand. This world is nothing but an ephemeral dream. I died, and you…sorrowed. That is history. That is an unchangeable fate."

"Jeanne…"

"Don't despair, Gilles. In a different form, in a different way, we'll be able to fight together, just like old times. I can feel it," Jeanne said reassuringly to a distressed Gilles. "So, think of this as but a temporary goodbye."

"You truly are…" Gilles said in awe. "No, even in death, you still care for this country, for France. Please forgive us, Jeanne d'Arc! We...France…betrayed you!" Before he could act more like the Caster version of himself we had just vanquished, Jeanne rested a shoulder as he started to fade away.

"It's all right. Let's at least leave this world with a smile. If not for yourself, then for me, please?" Jeanne asked with yet another kind smile. Gilles appeared more than willing to comply with her simple request, though the smile was small and tinged with sadness, before he too vanished. Now it was only Jeanne left of those who wouldn't be returning to Chaldea with us, and she too began to fade. Even then, her smile didn't fade as she gazed at me.

"Master. Ritsuka, Mash…I expect my meeting with you all, our battles, even the lives we lost…all of this will disappear, won't it? That makes me a little sad," the Ruler admitted, her smile fading slightly as she did so. "Of course, it's a joyous thing that lives lost will return to us. But I feel like I'll meet you again, somewhere, sometime." Jeanne smile brightened once more, a mischievous glint I wouldn't have expected from her twinkling in her eyes. "My intuition can be pretty good, you know?" She said as she unfurled her banner before tearing off a portion suddenly.

I gaped slightly at her as Jeanne pushed the section of fabric into my hands. "A memento, that even when all seems lost, hope will always exist. Farewell, and thank you," Jeanne said as she finally faded away. Before anyone could say anything else, I felt a tugging sensation in my body, and I lost consciousness, still gripping the last vestige of my temporary Servant as all faded to black.

When I opened my eyes, I could see that I was back in Chaldea. The door to the Coffin device I had entered days ago was open, and I stepped out slowly. I looked down, and saw that the sword I had 'borrow' when we first arrived was still strapped to my side. Another souvenir then, it seems. Speaking off, I raised my clutched hand up, and sure enough, the scrap of fabric gifted to me by Jeanne d'Arc was still held tightly. A polite cough had my cheeks flushing slightly as I looked to see Doctor Roman, Mash, and Ritsuka standing around me. My fellow Master and his first Servant looked as exhausted as I felt, but I noticed that Mordred and the others were not present.

"Where are the others?" I asked in concern.

"They're fine. You were the last one to wake up, and they went to do their own respective things. It's almost midnight here, if you wanted to know," Doctor Roman said, and I nodded absently. While I hadn't really cared much, it was nice to know what time it was. Ritsuka gripped my shoulder gently.

"Mordred said she wanted to be alone, and she told me before she left that the two of you can talk tomorrow," my friend said softly, and I nodded gratefully. Gilles words really had shaken the normally-cocky Saber, and if she needed time to herself, then as her friend, her partner, I would willingly respect that.

"Now that the three of you are back, I want to say that you guys did good work out there. Thanks to your efforts, the first Grand Order was completed successfully. Despite being at such a disadvantage, you did splendid! The Holy Grail that was retrieved is being stored." Doctor Roman paused and shifted his posture slightly, looking more confidant then he does at time, his eyes gleaming with pride.

"I say this on behalf of all the surviving members of Chaldea: You are now full-grown Mages, and we are all very proud of you.

"Fou! Fooou!" I chuckled as Fou clambered up Mash's arm, returning to his normal perch on her shoulder. The Demi-Servant, once again in her normal attired, adjusted her glasses with one hand before scratching the underside of his chin.

"Fou made it back, too," Mash said with a small smile. "Are we sure it's not a lucky animal of some sort?" At that moment, the door leading out of the Rayshift chamber opened up, and Da Vinci strolled into the room with her trademark grin on her lips.

"Oh, welcome bac," She said cheerfully before looking the three of us up and down. "You guys looked tired." I can't help but snort in amusement at that.

"I feel tired," I quipped, causing the Caster to shake her head in amusement before handing over a data pad of some sort.

"Here's your latest observation records. Take a look, Doctor," she says as she gives the device to Roman, who quickly scrolls through it. His brow furrowed slightly as he focused on the now-recorded results of our foray.

"Hm….Ooooh!" He exclaimed suddenly. "This is the final confirmation needed. 15th century France is restored completely. While there are still six more of these left to resolved, this is still part of human history back in its rightful place!"

"Yes," Mash nodded, a somber expression on her face. "But, Doctor, we never saw Lev Lainur. He wasn't in France then?" She asked. Doctor Roman scratched the back of his head as he chewed on the corner of his lip softly, humming to himself for a moment before answering.

"Yes, he's probably hiding in one of the other six eras. No, I suppose he wouldn't hide. Not anymore, at least. If we arrive in the one he is in, he will act." Then the serious manner the ginger-haired man had evaporated as one of his more jovial expressions came back as he smiled warmly at us. "Well, details like that don't matter right now! I bet you guys want a warm bed and a shower, right?" All three of us nodded as one, and the acting-director chuckled softly, as did Da Vinci. "Go back to your rooms and get some rest," he finished.

"Yes, that plan sounds absolutely wonderful. See you later, Doctor," Mash said, and Ritsuka said something similar.

"Thanks for helping us out, Doc. Make sure you get some rest too," I suggested, noticing the bags under his eyes. I had the feeling that he had rarely left the command center since we were sent off days ago. Behind him, I saw Da Vinci giving me a subtle nod in approval.

"Yeah, that's not a bad suggestion. Good night, Jacob," Doctor Roman said with another soft chuckle. I then left for my room along with Mash and Ritsuka.

We didn't make it too far down the hallway before Mash stopped. Her room was closer to the Rayshift room then ours, it seems. We also stopped and looked at the pink-haired girl.

"Oh, and Ritsuka Senpai, Jacob Senpai," she said before giving us both a small but warm smile. "Good work today. I will see you both in the morning," she added, bowing slightly. I returned the smile with ease.

"You too, Mash."

"You feeling okay?" Ritsuka asked next, concerned for his Demi-Servant, who nodded once.

"Yes, just fine. A Demi-Servant's body has incredible strength, endurance, and self-healing abilities. I'll be back to top health in just a short while," Mash reported proudly. "The two of you, though, need to rest and get some sleep," she added solemnly. Then her shoulders slumped, and she released a soft sigh, closing her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Ritsuka asked, his concern returning swiftly. Was she in pain?

"No, I was just thinking of Gilles de Rais," Mash said with a shake of her head, eyes still closed. "I knew of his history, or so I thought. His heart was broken by Jeanne's death," she said before opening her eyes. "In our history, he became a mass child-murder. The France we saw was the bloody France he wanted. An appropriate sight for such a murderer. But still, even then, his real wish was for Jeanne d'Arc to live. That was the source of his rage, and his hatred. A pure rage that could destroy a country…" Mash paused, a curious look on her expression as she stared at the two of us. "Raw feelings are powerful, aren't they?" She asked. We looked at one another, seeing that the other had something they wanted to say. I gesture for Ritsuka to go first.

"He was human, after all," he said with a simple shrug that had Mash humming to herself.

"Because he was human. Amadeus said something similar, if I remember correctly." She looked crestfallen, unable to meet our worried gazes. "I don't have the experience they do. I don't have those deep feelings, or a heart that can handle them," she admitted, and the words tore at my heart. I had suspected the girl had grown up rather sheltered, but not to this extent. She finally looked up with a soft, rather adorable blush as she looked at Ritsuka. "But I'd like to learn them if I could. Even if I don't understand, I can learn a little at a time. I think that's what Amadeus was talking about."

"Well, good thing we're here to help," Ritsuka said kindly, and I nodded.

"On that note, Mash, allow me to part a word of advice about what you saw back there," I said softly, crossing my arms and leaning back against the Chaldea logo painted against the hallway. Ritsuka and Mash both looked at me curiously as I continued speaking.

"Love is a weird, strange, and marvelous phenomenon. It can give someone great power, and great weakness. It can give the power and desire to create and sustain, or to destroy and burn. A mother sacrificing her life so that her children could live can be because of love, or a man mourning the death of a beloved can destroy all that he can see in the name of love." I paused and saw that the two were still gazing at me in confusion, and I laughed under my breath quietly. "I suppose the point I am trying to make is that you should never underestimate what love can cause someone to do, for ill or for good."

Neither of them said anything, but finally Mash nodded her head slightly, a look of comprehension now present. "I think I understand a little more now. Anyways, it is late, so I will see you both tomorrow. Good night," she said as she opened the door and entered her room, the door closing quietly behind her. I turn to Ritsuka, pushing myself off of the wall.

"I'll see you in the morning as well, Rits," I said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Good work out there, man," I said, and Ritsuka's cheeks flushed in pleasure at the compliment.

"Thanks. You did the same as well. Good night and pleasant sleep."

"And to you as well."

Outside Chaldea, at the very limits of the protective magnetic fields that kept the ones inside safe from the destruction of humanity, a lone armored figured sat cross-legged in the snow, unaffected by the bitter cold. Her sword was buried blade first into the snow as she stared at it, her horned helmet covering Mordred's face once more. She had only the howling wind and the familiarly-chilling snow around her to keep her company, but right now, at that very moment, that was more than enough for Mordred, as a single word charged with heavy emotions slipped from her lips, heard only by the speaker as the wind drowned it out.

"Father…"

6

Chapter Text

I quickly recognized the signs that I was in another of Mordred's memory, and braced myself for another restless night. Standing in front of me was the Mordred I fought alongside, standing proudly in her armor as the final rays of the setting sun shone over the ramparts of the castle she stood in, undoubtedly Camelot, the fabled home of the Knights of the Round Table and King Arthur.

Alone in the courtyard, the blonde knight had her helmet retracted, allowing for me to see the unfiltered awe and adulation in her emerald eyes as she gazed at a crowned and regal figure standing up at the turret of one of the corner towers, staring off into the setting sun. An ermine-trimmed blue cloak fitting of a member of royalty trailed down from their shoulders. I wasn't able to see much, but somehow, I knew that was King Arthur.

'My king is perfect. The King of Knights has no greed. One only needs what one will use. Unnecessary things are a nuisance. He has no dreams. He also does not need them.' I could hear Mordred's thoughts as if they were my own. Suddenly I felt a presence, as did Mordred, as a familiar voice I loathed to hear addressed the only occupant of the empty yard.

"Mordred," Morgan Le Fay said as she appeared from a cloud of shadows, stepping out between an alley between two of the various buildings surrounding the clearing. She sounds stern, disapproving, and frustrated. "For how long do you intend to keep playing the role of a knight?"

Mordred whirled around, and I could feel her surprise and discomfort at seeing her mother. "Mother?"

"You are the heir of King Arthur." The words caused Mordred to stiffen in shock, revealing that she mustn't have known that fact. Morgan continued speaking though, holding her arms out before her dramatically as her voice rose. "Your life is also proof of his existence. You are the child of the King!" Morgan finished. Mordred stared wide-eyed at her cruel mother.

"Me?" She asked numbly, before turning back to her king and father. "I am King Arthur's…son?" Mordred hesitated, nervous, before a sudden gleam of boundless joy filled her eyes and a smile graced her lips as she repeated her mother's words, who had vanished behind Mordred's back. My eyes narrowed at that, but then the scene shifted.

Now I was standing next to a large circular table to the right, and once again my shared bond with Mordred and her memories told me that I was by the famed Round Table. The windows to the left of me, showed the dying rays of the son casting the room in a foreboding hue of reddish-orange. The atmosphere felt tense, and for good reason as I turned to look at a startled Mordred. In front of us was King Arthur, though for some reason I could not see the face of the king.

"You won't recognize me as your son?" Mordred's voice was filled with disbelief, staring at her father unbelievingly. So, this was Mordred's rejection, wasn't it? A moment that defined her, and one that I had wondered what had truly happened that day. "That is your answer, King of Knights?" Mordred asked in a trembling voice.

The King didn't even speak, turning his back on Mordred and walking out of the room. All respect I had for King Arthur shattered at that, as did Mordred's. The knight next to me began tremble in her armor, her breath shaky as she glared at the back of King Arthur.

"I was happy just being in your shadow," she finally said, looking down at the stone floor. I could feel a mixture of hate, anger, and more than anything else, hurt, building and flowing off of the future Knight of Rebellion. "Yet you never turned around to face me." Still King Arthur did not react, continuing to walk. Finally, the dam gave way and Mordred's emotions flowed forth without an ounce of restraint or control. She flung her arms out violently to the side.

"King!" Mordred roared. "Then I will…! I will destroy everything you represent!" She declared, clenching her now-raised hands. "ARTHUR!" Mordred howled with tear-filled eyes as the king vanished from my sight.

Then all of a sudden, I am near the crest of a hill littered with the broken and bloodied bodies of countless knights. The sound of steel clashing against steel draws my attention to the sight of Mordred deflecting a strike from a knight before piercing his abdomen with Clarent.

"Is King Arthur here?!?" The knight shouted in fury. "Show yourself, King of Knights!" Another knight charged towards her, his sword readied to swing at her. With a single slice of Clarent, his arm is severed at the elbow, and the wounded knight stumbled and fell down the blood-soaked hill.

Mordred plants Clarent's tip into the ground, leaning against the sword. The battle must have lasted for hours, and wearing full plate for that long must have been exhausting, for I can hear Mordred's soft panting. She scoffs though before turning around, and my gaze follows to see the person who has caused the knight such pain. A sword whose hilt is colored royal blue and gold is clutched in his right hand.

Mordred pulled Clarent out of the ground and gestured toward her father with arms outstretched. "Well?" She asked viciously. "What now, King Arthur? This is the end of your kingdom!" She adjusted her body into one of her ready stances, continuing her rant. "Face the consequences for not recognizing me as king!"

Arthur is silent, and I find myself unable to read his expression once again, and I felt disapproval build in my body, and it wasn't coming from Mordred this time. Instead, he raised his sword, Excalibur, and held it in a two-handed grip. I can feel Mordred's rage as if it were my own as she scoffed again angrily.

"Is it hate?" Mordred demanded. "Do you hate me? You hate me because I was born to a witch?" Still her father said nothing, fueling Mordred's rage. Unable to hold herself back any longer, she charged towards the one she had declared to be the 'Perfect King', Clarent glinting in the last rays of sunlight. "Answer me, Arthur!"

Arthur blocked Clarent with Excalibur. Even when alive, Mordred had great strength, it seems, for Excalibur was knocked out of Arthur's hands. The two leapt backwards. Mordred gazed briefly towards the discard Sword of Promised Victory.

"I have never hated you," the King of Knights finally spoke. Mordred gasped softly and turned back. I gazed at the odd-looking object King Arthur held. It looked like a spiral drill. "If you want to know why I didn't give you the throne…" Mordred readied herself for the king's strike. With a sinking feeling in my gut, however, I suspect what happens next.

More of feeling rather than seeing Mordred's eyes widen as her father suddenly sprang forward in a blink of the eye. A sickening sound of metal tearing through metal and then flesh rings throughout the battlefield as Arthur runs Mordred through with the lance, the weapon tearing its way through my future Servant's armor. The sight was horrifying, and worse, I could cry or scream. But I could feel the explosion of pain that Mordred felt at that moment. A burning, stabbing sensation that had me begging for both death and to be able to scream in agony.  "It was because you lacked the capacity to be king," Arthur finished rather coldly as Mordred's helmet cracked and exploded, blood spraying out of the fatal wound. A horrified expression was one her face as she coughed up blood, struggling to say her final words.

"Fa…ther…"

I awoke with a loud gasp, sitting up in my bed, my hands gripping my stomach. Even though I know it was from a dream, nothing more than a memory, I still raise a trembling hand to my face just to ensure that is the case. The sight of a lack of red staining my palm calms me, but only slightly.

I start to take deep breaths, and force my body to stop shaking as I swing my body to the side of the bed, my bare feet just inches away from the undoubtedly cold floor. I lean forward slightly and cup my hand with my faces, my eyes closed as that final moment replayed in my head.

The mystery for why Mordred Pendragon rebelled was finally clear to me. All too painfully clear. The lashing out at the one figure she had in her life to admire and respect. The words of Archer back in Singularity F came back. About how he had said that Mordred had thrown a tantrum.

In a way, I could understand why he might have said that, but I disagreed completely. I wanted to address this issue, but I had promised not to talk about it with the English knight unless she wanted to. Talk about a case of backfiring, I suppose. Still, that's one hell of a dysfunctional family, even for her era. I groaned into my hands before lifting my head, knowing that I won't be able to fall asleep now.

Looking at the digital clock on my nightstand, I sigh to see what time the red digits are showing. 7:15 AM. Grumbling my displeasure at that, I slide off the edge of the bed and hiss slightly as my feet make contact with the cool tiles. I make my way over to the bathroom, pausing by the sword resting against the corner.

Much like with Jeanne's parting gift, I had a hard time believing that this sword, this literal piece of history, was both now my own and in my room. It certainly wasn't the style of sword I was used to when I had practiced fencing, but it worked pretty damn well in France, and so I would continue using it. Then I resumed walking into the bathroom, first to relieve my bladder, then to take a nice hot shower.

The warm steam wafting up off from the heated water felt good to me, and I closed my eyes leaning my head forward slightly as the warm water sprinkled down my back. It was probably somewhere between five to ten minutes before I had finished my shower, and then dried myself off with a towel bearing the emblem of Chaldea.

Walking over to the sink, I wiped a hand over the thin coat of moisture that had clung to the glass before grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste, marking the start of my daily morning maintenance rituals, as I liked to call them in my head.

Last time I called it that aloud? Well, let's just say that my mom still gave me a funny look at the lengthy title I had come up with. But hey, give me a break, I was like seven years old.

By the time I had finished, all told I had spent about thirty minutes. I stifled the second groan of the day, instead settling to shake my head in disappointment as I made my way over to the simple wooden desk. On the surface rested my electronic devices I had brought, a pad of paper, and the piece of Jeanne's flag. I click my tongue as I sit down and reach for one of those devices I had brought.

If I was going to have to wait for possibly another hour before Ritsuka or Mash might be up and ready to have breakfast, what better way to kill some time and de-stress than by listening to some music?

I hum to myself as I power up my MP3 player and then scroll through the various songs I have saved on the device. Hmmm…..what to listen to?

Finally, I settle on Kenny Logan's "Danger Zone". Plugging in my headphones, I turn the music up to max volume as the opening strums of the song begin to blast into my ears. I lean back in the chair as I bob my head up and down to the beat, closing my eyes as I play an air guitar.

In my distraction, I jolted up into the air when I feel a warm hand gripping my shoulder. The quiet yelp that escaped was swiftly replaced with an exclamation of pain as both of my knees slam into the wooden bottom of the desk.

"Son of a…" I growl under my breath, ignoring the throbbing sensation in my legs as I yank my headphones off and look over my shoulder to see Mordred snickering in amusement at me.

"Is this going to be a pattern or something?" I groan as I power down my MP3 player before looking up at the smirk blonde.

"Well, stop letting yourself get distracted like that when I swing by and I'll stop," Mordred replied light-heartedly. The pain fading away now, I sigh good-naturedly at the Saber's words before turning my chair around so I can look properly at the short blonde.

She was wearing the clothing I had paid for her to own. She appeared to be doing okay on the first cursory glance, but when I focused on her face, I noticed the bags present under her eyes. She mustn't have slept well then, it seems. I also fight down the urge to finch at that moment as the cocky expression Mordred was wearing like she normally does was replaced with the one of pain as she was slain.

"How are you doing?" I say, rather bluntly. Maybe some tact would have been better, but this is Mordred. She seems to appreciate bluntness, or at least at times that is. No sooner had I finished saying those words then Mordred's trademark smirk feel, replaced with a small frown.

"Well enough," she said vaguely. Undeterred, I stare into her emerald eyes firmly. For a second, Mordred looked like she was about to tell me to shove it, before she released a long sigh, her shoulders relaxing as she sat on the edge of my bed, lightly gripping the fabric to either side of her.

"Okay, fine. I'm a bit pissed," Mordred said gruffly, a defiant gleam still in her eyes. "I guess the things those two assholes said to me yesterday got under my skin better than I thought," she admitted reluctantly, no doubt unused to the idea of sharing something like that to someone. Well, at least I won't be having to give another spiel to her about how she can trust me and all.

"Do you believe in their words?" I asked carefully, maintaining a neutral expression on my face, which Mordred returns.

"Why don't you tell me? When you looked at me earlier, you looked like you were in pain. So, tell me Master, what did you see this time?" Mordred said. So, I didn't do as good a job hiding that flinch as I had hoped. I mull over how I wanted to say what I had scene in what was increasingly feeling like a volatile situation.

"I saw Morgan revealing your parentage to you, and what happened when you went to King Arthur with that knowledge," I finally admitted. Mordred's face darkened as she looks down with a scowl.

"So, then you saw the Battle of Camlann, didn't you? My death?" The last two words are thrown out carelessly, serving as a reminder of what Morgan's actions had costed the blonde who was now a Heroic Spirit.

"I did."

"Then what are you waiting for? Go on, call me a traitor, or a monster. Tell me that you no longer feel fine with having me watching your back. Won't be anything new for me to hear," Mordred said in a forced bored manner, staring at me with a defiant gleam in her eyes. I let out a long sigh that has her relax slightly.

"For God's sake, Mordred, you had one hell of a messed-up family," I said the words that I had desired to say the moment I saw what Morgan considered to have been essential training for a younger Mordred.

"Huh?"

"You heard me. Your mother is a, for a lack of better words, bitch. As for King Arthur…I can't pass judgement on his character," I said carefully, not forgetting the contradiction I had seen on how Mordred reacted to the topic of her father. Indeed, she tensed up at my use of the name, her eyes narrowed as if she expected me to insult her former liege but relaxed slightly when she saw that wasn't going to be the case. Feeling encouraged, I took a deep breath before plunging on.

 "As for your rebellion…I think that you were angry, and that you didn't know how to handle it. It doesn't absolve you, but it also doesn't condemn your actions and words. Your….father…had his own choice that he made. He could have accepted you as his son but deny you the throne. He could have accepted you as his son and heir. Hell, from what I saw and heard, he could have said why he was denying you any form of recognition," I said in an even tone. Mordred said nothing, nor did she give away any indication of how she was feeling. The fact that she hadn't left helped my confidence to continue speaking my mind.

"I have seen some of your memories, and I know you didn't have anyone you could talk to. It was only logical that you would lash out

There was another long, awkward silence, and I waited to see if Mordred would say anything in response. With a soft sigh, I finally realized she wasn't going to, and so another question popped into my head. "Your wish?"

"Huh?"

"Your wish for the Holy Grail. I know every Servant has one, even if it is not known to themselves. What was yours?"

"…..To be able to go back and pull the Caliburn, the Sword of Selection, out of the stone, just as my father did," Mordred said in an unusually soft voice. I nodded encouraging. At last, another breakthrough. "I wanted to help my father out by relieving him of the burden of the throne, to make him happy," she added, her voice stronger. I had a feeling that there might have been a story behind that, but that could wait for another day.

"Not a bad wish, if you ask me," I said supportively. And honestly, a very sweet wish, though I think that I'll keep that part to myself. Another silence falls between us, and I wait patiently.

I stare at her as she closes her beautiful emerald eyes. I pause for the briefest of moments as I fully register what I had just thought. What was that? Mordred's voice prevented any further discussion.

"So, what does this mean then, Master?" She asked in a neutral tone, opening those vibrant orbs once more.

"It means that nothing has changed, other than the fact we talked about this," I said with a simple shrugging, before rising up off the chair. "I haven't felt a single shard of regret for putting my trust into you. Mordred, you haven't acted in any manner that would threaten Chaldea, humanity, or myself. Do you intend to change that status?" I asked, deadly serious. Mordred shook her head once, her smirk slowly starting to return once more as she began to accept what I was saying.

As much as I enjoy having her as my friend and partner, my god can she be stubborn! And yet, I wouldn't let anyone force her to change that aspect.

"Good. Then let's consider the matter closed. If you want to talk about your past again, you know I am always willing to sit down and listen to you. In the meantime, let's give the heavy shit a break and enjoy a nice, warm breakfast that will actually taste like food, hm?" I said, smiling a bit sheepishly as my stomach decided at that very moment to release a low rumble.

Mordred's laughter at that finally dispelled the last remnants of tension and moodiness from our conversation only moments ago. The memories I had dealt with during the night began to fade, pushed towards the back of my mind to be replaced with more pleasant ones being formed between us. The blonde was still laughing as she got off of my bed, smirking as normal.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," I grumbled with my arms crossed, though I wasn't being serious. She cocks her head

"You seem more relaxed then you were the past few days," Mordred commented off-handedly, and I rolled my eyes at her.

"Well, not having to worry about keeping us all alive tends to help with that," I shot back with my own smirk. "Now, come on, let's eat," I said insistently, before my stomach could betray me once again. I walked out the door, my friend and Servant close behind me as we headed towards the cafeteria.

Mordred seemed to be in better spirits now, and I felt a wave of satisfaction at helping my partner out, as a good friend should. However, there was still something bothering me, though.

"So where did the 'beautiful' comment come from?"

No matter how much I tried to push that away, the thought continued to pop into my head…

I couldn't help but stare at the sheer number of plates before Mordred, containing a wide variety of good from scrambled eggs to even a small stack of pancakes. There was no way that anyone, not even a Servant, could actually eat that much food in one sitting….is there?

When we had entered the cafeteria, we had parted briefly, and I had found a table after getting a simple meal of scrambled eggs and a bowl of mixed fruit. I waited patiently for my partner to arrive, raising an eyebrow when she came with her arms loaded with a rather absurd number of plates, and I had made the comment of if she wasn't having a moment where her eyes were more hungry than her stomach was. She had merely smirked before grabbing her silverware.

To a combined mixture of equal parts awe and horror, I watch numbly as Mordred demolished the array of food before her. My hand clutched the spoon halfway between my mouth and my plate as I tried to comprehend what I was seeing.

The few other staff members also having their breakfast had also stopped, unable to look away from the display. And of course, the knight across from me either doesn't seem to realize what she has caused, or she doesn't care. My money is more on the latter if I had to be honest, as I heard a pair of footsteps approaching from behind, finally causing me to look away to see who it was behind me.

"G-Good morning, Jacob," Ritsuka created with a stammer, his smile frozen on his face as he dumbfoundedly gazed at the devouring Mordred. Welcome to the club, I wanted to say. Mash also stared as the Knight of Rebellion finished her meal(s?), shaking their heads in awe before sitting down next to us.

"So, what's on the agenda today?" I said, finally able to begin eating my own food now that Mordred had finished.

"Well, after breakfast Doctor Roman would like for us to swing by the summoning chamber. He wants each of us to summon a Servant, then use the next week or so to help them adjust to our other Servants already here," Ritsuka said.

I hummed in approval. While the good doctor can be prone to panicking, when the time comes, he has proven himself to be reliable and trustworthy. "Sounds good to me." I then turned to Mash. "So, what was it like, being outside Chaldea?" I asked the quiet girl. She gave me a soft smile before answering after eating a slice of orange.

"It was amazing. I had always wondered what the outside world was like. In fact, one of my biggest desires is to see the stars in the sky at night," Mash admitted. Inwardly, I frowned at that newest nugget of information, all the while maintaining a smile.

"Well, how about once this mess is over, Ritsuka and I shall take you out sometime, and you can see the stars in the present? Maybe even see if Da Vinci has a telescope we could borrow?" I offered, and Mash's smile widened, nodding eagerly. I turned to look at Mordred. "What about you? Would you be interested?"

The knight shrugged indifferently. "Eh, why not? I mean, I'm not exactly going to be in a hurry to return to the Throne of Heroes once this has ended, ya know?" She responded somewhat lazily, and I smiled again at that. Well, that's nice to know. Hopefully, I could possibly give her a chance to experience the world like I would with Mash, a world beyond fighting.

It's the least I could do for my partner.

The rest of breakfast passed by rather quickly, with idle chatter, jokes, and other such light-hearted things. Finally, when Ritsuka, Mash, and I had joined Mordred in finishing our meals. I look at the others as I grab my plates, eager to get going.

"Well, now that we are done eating, why don't we go over and let Doctor Roman and Da Vinci know that we're ready to see who is waiting to accept our call for help," I said, standing up with a small smile, as my three friends also stood up, and together we began to head out for the summoning chamber.