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To summon a Heroic Spirit was to reach beyond the veil of death and demand a treasure from the domain beyond. It was not a simple ritual, and even the most simple of rituals could have horrific consequences to the unprepared. The simplest ritual, performed perfectly, would grant you the exact thing you asked for. But few spellcasters understood what they were asking for.
The Knight’s eye was adept at seeing through magicks. It was a talent which strangers never expected of her. After witnessing the ritual a few times, it only took some supplemental reading on the history of the ritual for her to see through it.
The role of the Catalyst was key in the ritual. By default, a Heroic Spirit would be summoned with the Master as a Catalyst. This was genius, frankly speaking. It meant that the Heroic Spirit summoned was compatible with the Master. It was not a perfect safeguard, but it was demanding destiny provide the Master with a Servant who they can learn from, who is inclined to protect them.
Magi were, if nothing else, predictable. So many of them took this genius system and gutted it in the pursuit of raw power. It was so easy for the ritual to be shaped around an item-based Catalyst in order to attempt to summon a specific Heroic Spirit. This gave the Magi more control over the one who was summoned, and spellcasters carried an obsession with control of all things. Their fatal flaw was in assuming they knew what they were asking for.
The ritual in Chaldea struck a middle ground. If the Master was the sole catalyst, then there would only ever be one Servant. The orange-haired girl who bore the Command Seals was not entirely irrelevant, but unless she had as many personalities as there were stars in the sky, she was not the core of the ritual. The Catalyst in Chaldea was the shield that the white-haired child had been gifted. The Round Table, or at least a representation of it.
Had it been the literal Round Table, then it would be no better than an item-based Catalyst. As a representation, the Catalyst instead became the shield.
It was “A dream to save the world.”
On paper, it was the perfect solution. Chaldea would not summon any traitors or monsters without merit. It’s failure came in how it overlooked a simple fact. Even the greatest of monsters lived in this world. It was not enough to remove those who care not if the world is erased.
Chaldea had grown accustomed to the summoning of monsters. At some point, the leadership of Chaldea had devised a program to ensure that those monsters would not sabotage the movement inadvertently, or bring harm to the girl who had summoned them.
The serpentine madwoman Kiyohime was kept under close watch by the tongueless bird that ruled Chaldea’s kitchen. In doing so, Kiyohime’s madness was kept in check by one she paid respect to. The ruler who declared himself Dracula frequently met with the various Saints to remind him of his humanity. The childish murderer mingled with the fairytale mimicking a child, who distracted the girl known as Jack when she grew too obsessive with the concept of motherhood.
When the Knight was called to Da Vinci’s workshop to discuss an incident in the summoning chambers, it was rather obvious what had happened. Fujimaru Ritsuka had summoned a Heroic Spirit who would want to save the world, and she received exactly what she had called for.
Leonardo Da Vinci didn’t mince words. “Sir Mordred. Your Master has summoned a dangerous Servant. I would like to assign you to managing the Servant.”
Mordred decided not to mince words either. “Where are they?”
“Contained.” Da Vinci assured her. “Mashu restrained the Servant once it became clear that she was a threat. She’s currently sealed in one of the spare rooms until she can be supervised.”
Then there was no immediate danger. Mordred allowed herself to relax, which caused her thoughts to wander. Why was she being called for this? “If it’s my mother in that room, I will just kill her myself.”
“It is not Morgan le Fay, or whichever name she favoured.” Da Vinci assured her. “We are not entirely sure who she is- But allow me to start from the beginning.”
Mordred ceded the floor to the Caster. Leonardo looked over her papers before she spoke.
“Exactly half an hour ago, Ritsuka entered the summoning chambers- Without authorisation again- And attempted to account for our deficit in Archer-class Servants. She succeeded, but the Servant in question immediately attempted to claim control of Chaldea and demanded that she be brought a sacrifice for her entertainment.”
“And we’re not killing her why?” Mordred asked.
“Because of what she said in the aftermath of Mashu fending her away from Ritsuka, and once Ritsuka used a Command Seal to restrain her.” Da Vinci explained. “The Servant in question has demonstrated a frightening level of knowledge of Chaldea’s workings. She even knew secrets even I was kept from. Romani claims that only he, the Director and the A Team were aware of the secrets the Servant has shown knowledge of.”
“So you need to know if there’s been a security breach.” Mordred concluded.
“That’s only the start.” Leonardo continued. “I attempted to conduct a preliminary interview. Results were frustratingly inconclusive, but I was able to goad the Servant into explaining more about her history.”
“And?” Mordred asked.
“Tell me, Mordred.” Da Vinci asked. “Did Morgan le Fay ever rule over the entirety of Britain?”
Mordred’s mind screeched to a halt at that statement. It took her time to piece together her thoughts. The first thought to be completed was spoken without thought. “She’s from one of the Singularities.”
“None of the existing Singularities appear to originate from the British isles.” Leonardo mused. “But then, it would not be beyond my expectations if a Servant capable of scrying into Chaldea’s systems was also capable of concealing itself from Chaldea’s observations. We do not have enough information on the system, and our one potential source of information is difficult.”
“And you want me to get this information.” Mordred noted. “Isn’t this more of a job for Father?”
“I do not believe that the Servant will be open to questions from King Arthur.” Da Vinci shook her head. “Do not take this the wrong way, but King Arthur has an aura of authority which few others can match. While the King’s presence would almost certainly confirm the Servant’s obedience and co-operation, I suspect that the Servant would simply tell Arthur what she wants to hear. You demand less authority, and your personality makes it more likely that the Servant would chaff under your supervision. Such frustration may get her to reveal more information.”
Mordred bit her lip to hold back her frustration. Da Vinci was right, but Mordred didn’t have to like it.
“And if that frustration leads to her lashing out?” Mordred asked.
“Then I will accept that the threat she poses to Chaldea outweighs the potential reward for allowing her to remain.” Caster declared. “Sir Mordred, if you are willing to accept this mission, then the Servant’s life is left to your discretion.”
That was good to hear.
“Enough wasting time.” Mordred decided. “Show me the Servant.”
Da Vinci led the way without further comment. There was no need for further clarification. Mordred had accepted her mission. Now all she needed to know is who the Servant was. The Knight didn’t exactly have a sword in hand as she walked through an isolated wing of Chaldea, but that was only because it was unnecessary when she could manifest it on the spot.
As Mordred passed the young girl who bore the title of Shielder, she wondered if maybe she should keep her sword in hand. She seemed shaken.
“Mordred.” Mashu’s voice seemed somewhat relieved.
“How bad?” The Knight asked.
“Senpai is no stranger to danger.” Mashu sounded like she was trying to convince herself there. “But she wasn’t expecting an altercation within Chaldea.”
“What exactly happened?” Mordred demanded. Da Vinci looked back in concern, but Mordred ignored her.
Mashu may have been young, and Mordred knew full well how much it could unsettle someone to be endangered in what should have been a safe place. Her being shaken was understandable. But if Mashu wasn’t able to withstand something like this, he would not burden her with the responsibility of his power.
“I think Senpai assumed that she was like Elizabeth.” Mashu muttered. “She wasn’t taking the Servant seriously. The Servant… Reacted badly.”
That would do it. Mordred had to wonder if Da Vinci wanted Mordred to kill this Servant. Her logic was sound enough, but it seemed just as logical that Da Vinci was putting someone who demanded their authority be respected with someone who sneered at authority together to let one problem solve another.
“You get back to Master.” Mordred reached around to push Mashu’s back, forcing the girl to walk forward. “I’ll handle this.”
The young girl nodded and ran off. Mordred watched after her briefly before she returned to her mission.
Da Vinci led Mordred past a few more empty rooms. Mordred had to wonder if these rooms had been left empty on purpose. There was a whole wing of Chaldea left isolated and that seemed really convenient right about now. Had this been planned?
“This is the place.” Da Vinci needn’t have bothered explaining that. The magic of the place made itself apparent. It was like a sterile scent bad enough that you had to wonder if the thing it was sterilising would’ve smelt better. The room was locked up tight.
Mordred pushed her way in. If that would’ve broken the magic, Leonardo had plenty of time to stop her. Given that Mordred had the time to don her helm, she assumed Da Vinci had no objections.
The girl inside the room was toying with her shoes. The way her foot moved made it clear that whatever was beneath those heels wasn’t a normal human foot. Mordred pulled her eyes upwards over the Servant. Her skin was a pale gray, and the colour of her hair matched the red of her dress- Only a shade lighter than the stockings that climbed to her thighs.
“Oh?” The girl tilted her head as Mordred entered. “Have I finally been assigned a butler? A bodyguard?”
“An executioner, if I feel like it.” Mordred threw back.
Something was wrong. Mordred did not know the girl, but something deep in her heart told her she knew them . It was like finding an old friend after a war, in the field of the dead.
The Archer Class Servant sighed heavily. “Another one. How droll.”
“Who the hell are you?” Mordred demanded.
“Am I completely unknown?” The girl asked. “Well, I suppose my counterpart in your Panhuman History is quite different to me .”
The girl finished sealing the shoe over her foot as she stood up. Her total height wasn’t all that impressive, but she certainly acted like she was
“I am the successor to the Queen of Fairy Britain, Morgan le Fay.” The girl declared.
Fairy . How Mordred had not seen it before baffled her. The girl reeked of a fairy. That thought was buried as she finished her introduction.
“I am the Fairy Knight Tristan. Let that be the name you sing when you praise my glory.”
Even if she was the first Servant to actively attack the Master while in Chaldea, the Fairy Knight’s integration couldn’t be put off. It was Romani’s belief that putting her through the motions and getting her used to Chaldea would get her to open up. Mordred disagreed, but she also didn’t want to just stand at the Fairy Knight’s door with Clarent in hand.
Usually, that integration would take the form of training exercises alongside Fujimaru Ritsuka. Mashu had objected fairly strongly to that, and Romani had been quick to clarify that he intended for a somewhat different approach this time. So it was that Mordred sat at the side of the simulator as the Fairy Knight demonstrated her combat prowess.
She was surprisingly open to the idea, though Mordred suspected that was largely boredom. She was certainly having a lot more fun now that she was fighting. On paper, this simulated battle existed so that the Fairy Knight could prove her worth. Between the lines, the purpose of this battle was for Chaldea to collect notes on how the Fairy Knight fought.
As Da Vinci had told Mordred in a hushed whisper when the two of them were alone, the true purpose here was for Mordred to give her own analysis of the Fairy Knight’s magical ability. The girl fought primarily through spellcraft, channelling her magic into blood and controlling that blood through motion. When she was in her element, the Fairy Knight was more of a dancer than a true Knight.
The Fairy Knight danced around a simulated wyvern, her bloody footsteps becoming spears which stabbed into the dragon’s flesh. As she completed her circle, she pointed a finger-gun at the wyvern and winked. The motion triggered the bloody beam that tore through the dragon-like being.
The focus on blood was rather telling. Between the strange colouration of her flesh and the element her magic was attuned to, it was rather clear that the Fae had vampiric qualities. That wasn’t totally uncommon amongst the Fae- Mordred could name the Glaistig as a Scottish vampire, for instance- But the overlap could be coincidental. Traditional vampire folklore bore some resemblance to tales of the Fae, with obscure rules dictating the actions of the charming yet monstrous being.
More importantly was the construction of the spells. The use of dance as a focus and blood of an element meant that they weren’t the same spell, but Mordred could feel the construction of the spellcraft in that moment before it impacted the physical world. It was different metal forged into a different blade with the same anvil. It was a familiar recipe with a substitution and without the same plating.
Mordred knew her mother’s magic anywhere. That confirmed one fact about the Fairy Knight, at least. The woman who had taught her spellcraft was the same woman who had raised Mordred.
The simulation called forth a chimera, and the Fairy Knight’s fingers danced. With a song on her lips, the Fairy Knight called forth her weapon. To call it a bow was an observation purely taking into account the shape of the weapon. In function, the multiple bowstrings filling the bow created a magical foci that would be more accurately described as a harp.
This was not the magic of Morgan le Fay. It was a mimicry of someone else entirely. Once again, the specifics were different- Rather than an inherently magical artefact, the Fairy Knight’s harp was a conduit for her own magic. Pulling on the harp strings cut the air in front of her with more magical blood, slicing through the chimera. It was clear what the Fairy Knight was doing.
Even if the method of creating the projectile was different, the method of attack was identical. That was the attack of the man the Fairy Knight stole her name from.
Mordred refused to call the Fairy ‘Tristan’. It wasn’t just a matter of denying the Fairy the power behind a name, even if it was clear that simply adopting the name had allowed the Fairy Knight to mimic so much. Mordred simply refused to tarnish the pride of the Round Table, of Sir Tristan specifically.
If Mashu had been trying to claim Galahad’s name, Mordred would tell her to cut it out and maybe cuff her around the ear if she was being weird about it. That was someone who deserved the name more, too. Some stuck-up aristocratic witch who took pride in being That Woman’s ‘Heir’ claiming the name of a Knight of the Round Table? Mordred wanted to vomit just thinking about it.
The Fairy Knight dismissed her bow as the chimera died and waited a moment to confirm that the simulation had ceased.
“Have I performed to your satisfaction, Sir Knight?” The Fairy Knight asked. Mordred had yet to remove her Secret of Pedigree, so the Fairy Knight seemed to come to the exact incorrect conclusion about the Knight that Mordred wanted. “Did my royal performance perhaps pierce your iron heart and win your loyalty?”
“Drop dead.” Mordred responded.
“So uncouth.” The Fairy Knight sighed while brushing back her hair. “Your armour is quite hideous, you know. I can’t see a single vein to cut, nor a face to contort with pain.”
“You’d find that protecting one’s blood is a major reason why people wear armour.” Mordred answered drily.
“Bah, you’re no fun.” The girl sighed. “Can’t we liven this place up a bit? Simulated bloodshed is hollow, but if it’s to get over this boredom I’ll welcome a hollow massacre.”
“You’re not here to have fun.” Mordred pointed out. “You’re here because you attacked Master, because you’re an egotistical monster.”
“Why yes I am.” The Fairy Knight gave a cutesy bow. “The greatest monster of Fairy Britain, at your service. Now conjure up some peasants. Preferably with children, those are fun to take apart.”
Mordred found it hard to believe that a girl like the Fairy Knight truly had any desire to save Panhuman History. She supposed that self-preservation went a long way, even if the Fairy Knight must have come from some kind of Singularity.
Given the glee the girl took in her own monstrous nature, Mordred couldn’t help but feel like she was playing into the Fairy Knight’s hands by rising to the bait. But fuck it, she wanted to yell at someone. “Choke on a sword and die.”
“Oh, that sounds like a fun torture method.” The Fairy Knight grinned. “Perhaps I should appoint you as my right-hand man. It’d be the highest honour you could ever achieve, finding recognition from-”
Mordred’s hand closed around the Fairy Knight’s throat. The Fairy Knight didn’t even have the time to scream before her back was forced into the simulator’s wall.
“Ack!” The Fairy Knight choked. She tried to claw at Mordred’s gauntlet. The Knight stared into the girls eyes to confirm her fear.
“There is no honour in serving something like you.” Mordred growled. “I am a Knight of the Round Table- That is the highest honour.”
She lessened her grip on the Fairy Knight’s throat just a tad. The Fairy Knight leapt on the opportunity. “How dare you! I am-”
“Give me your name.” Mordred interrupted.
“I am the Fairy Knight Tristan-”
Mordred pressed the Fairy Knight harder into the wall.
“I know Tristan.” Mordred declared. “He’s a dumbass, but he’s a good man. Loyal to his Lord until his loyalty for love broke him. You have none of his honour, his glory or his pride. You’re just a feral dog claiming to be royalty while you gnaw at anything in your reach. You are not Tristan. Do not insult him again .”
Mordred regarded the Fairy Knight carefully. This monster had attacked Fujimaru Ritsuka in order to enforce her authority. She preened at the declaration of her own monstrosity and sought to make others complicit in her sins. Seeing the terror in her eyes as Mordred tightened her grip was a karmic justice.
“Your name.” Mordred loosened her grip, but only barely.
The Fairy Knight had venom in her glare, but the terror was stronger. “Baobhan… Sidhe.”
Hm. So Mordred was on the right track with the Glastig proposal, then. She’d need to brush up on her Fae lore, but a Baobhan Sidhe had a lot of overlap with its fellow Scottish vampire.
Mordred released the Baobhan Sidhe and watched her fall to the group. The Fae grasped at her own throat to confirm that Mordred’s hand was truly gone.
“I don’t give a shit who you are.” Mordred continued. “Heir to Morgan, a troll in a cave, it doesn’t matter. If you insult the Round Table again, I won’t let go next time.”
“I can’t say I approve of your methods.” Romani Archaman sighed. “I would have preferred a softer hand in these matters.”
“A softer hand wouldn’t have been as effective around her throat.” Mordred replied. “What, did you expect me to stay calm hearing some bitch use Tristan’s name and talking about the torture and murder they want to do?”
“What I prefer and what I accept are two entirely different matters.” Romani assured Mordred. “Your brutality may have been excessive in my opinion, but we knew what we were getting into with you. And even if it is slight, you did get results.”
The Doctor typed something into the computer next to him and pulled up a list of search results.
“Baobhan Sidhe.” Romani observed. “It’s a classification of Fae, but that girl used it as a name. Are all Fae of that classification called Baobhan Sidhe? Is there only one Baobhan Sidhe in the Singularity she hails from? It’s hard to tell.”
“Most Baobhan Sidhe are just monsters rather than witches.” Mordred mused. “So that’s my mother’s influence all over her. I’ve got no idea what interest mother would have in a Fairy, but there’s only so much her name will tell us.”
“What it does tell us might be enlightening.” Romani mused. “A Baobhan Sidhe is a wish-granting fairy. The most common folklore tells of corrupted wishes, humans wishing to see their lover and being given a monkey’s paw that ripped out their throat. But records from the Clocktower list Baobhan Sidhe as one of the forms of Fae that could be bargained with- Primarily in the daylight, so the wish cannot be corrupted.”
Fairies were creations bound to their roles. They were created from the Earth to carry out a specific purpose, and when they die their souls were recycled to create a new iteration of that purpose. It was possible for Fairies to grow beyond their role, but that role still bound them.
“What time was it when Master summoned Baobhan Sidhe?” Mordred asked.
“Daylight.” Romani confirmed.
“So the Fairy Knight is safe, to a degree.” Mordred concluded. “We’ll need to keep a close watch on her in case she decides she wants to be in charge again, but this is doubling up on the ritual used to summon her. If Master wished for a Servant to fight for her, then we got a Servant who will fight for her. We don’t need to worry about her betraying us to that fucker Solomon or anything like that.”
Romani gave a faint smile. “If you are willing to extend that much trust to the Fairy-”
“Not to the girl.” Mordred corrected immediately. “To the fate she is bound by. If a wish-granting fairy answered Ritsuka’s call, then she’s got someone who will accomplish the mission. It’s just what she does along the way that we need to consider stabbing her over.”
“A misspeaking on my part.” Romani accepted. “But if that is your stance, I believe we can take a few more risks with integrating the Fairy Knight into Chaldea. I’m going to have the two of you deployed into a micro-Singularity. All you need to do is take care of a lingering creatures which should not exist and it’ll clean itself right up.”
“This better not be the fucking Mini-Nobu’s again.”
“Nobbu!”
Damn you, Romani.
The same word echoed through the sky endlessly. An infinite swarm of identical creatures attacked, firing muskets into the air and exploding as they approached. The presumed leaders of the Mini-Nobu incursion stayed behind their horde waving signs in several languages.
“Let Nobbu work year-round.”
“Down with the Union Tyrants.”
“Right to Work.”
“Union Nobbu’s Kill Jobs.”
Mordred decided fairly early into this incursion not to pay too much attention to what the gremlins wanted. The important thing was they never wanted to go away, and the one benefit of Nobu Season was that they just vanished into the timestream once their yearly migration continued. They had to be exterminated for their sins.
The one upside to all of this was that Baobhan Sidhe was equally as confused. Even moreso, lacking the context as to what Mini-Nobu’s were. Her dress was stained in soot from where the initial few had successfully ambushed her and exploded. Based on the words she was screaming, Baobhan Sidhe seemed to be under the impression that the Mini-Nobu’s were some kind of fairy.
...She wasn’t all that wrong. There was certainly a lot of overlap between the Mini-Nobu’s and the lesser Fair Folk. Mini-Nobu’s were creatures created to fulfil a purpose- To carry out the chaos that was the will of Oda Nobunaga, as a destructive force that was nonetheless easily organised. Much like the Fae, the Mini-Nobu’s were capable of expanding outside their roles. The main pack of Mini-Nobu’s had somehow discovered unionisation and worker rights, and had thrown themselves whole-heartedly into finding a fair minimum wage. These particular Nobu’s disagreed.
Mordred was also fairly sure that the Nobu’s had some kind of similar reincarnation system as the Fae. That would explain the seemingly endless horde if one Nobu’s soul was used to create a new Nobu.
Baobhan Sidhe stabbed a Nobu in the throat with her bladed heel.
“Nobbu!” The creature shone bright with a white light before it detonated. Baobhan Sidhe’s shoe was torn apart in the detonation, revealing a deer-like hoof underneath.
“Ugh!” Baobhan Sidhe threw up her hands. “Enough of this, where’s the leader?”
Mordred pointed her sword at the biggest Mini-Nobu, which was easily the size of a certain Greek Bull. “That one.”
Baobhan Sidhe pointed a finger in the same direction, then clicked her fingers. The blood that pooled out of her hand took the form of a mini-Nobu, holding the same “Down with Big Nobbument” sign as the apparently leader. A swarm of mini-Nobu’s lunged at Baobhan Sidhe, only to be impaled by the stone spikes that shot out of the Fairy Knight’s back to impale them like a spider’s legs.
The Fairy Knight conjured a small stake and a large hammer. The stake was held to the heart of the effigy Mini-Nobu. The hammer drove the stake home.
Deep behind enemy lines, the largest Mini-Nobu exploded. The magic in the blood ripped her apart from the inside. The horde of Mini-Nobu’s cried out their name and rushed to their leader, acting as a group to carry the giant away from the attacking Servants. Mordred nearly moved to give chase, rout the enemy while she could, but she held back.
That was not a kind of magic Morgan le Fay would teach.
Mordred’s mother was a bitch, but she knew better than to delve into curses. Anything she couldn’t accomplish through traditional magic would’ve created too much negative karma to accomplish through a curse, so she studied that form of magic purely as a method of recreating the desired effects with less disastrous costs.
The spellwork behind the curse was far too sloppy to be something Morgan would have approved of either. Both in how convoluted the spell was for such a simple effect, but also in how unregulated the backlash was.
It was brief enough that only someone looking for it would notice. A brief hollowness of the eyes. Sight that lacked focus or clarity. A reflection of the rot of the soul left behind by the curse. Then it was gone, and Baobhan Sidhe smiled.
“Well, aren’t I impressive?” The witch asked.
“Passable.” Mordred decided not to speak of the karmic backlash of the curse. “You’ve managed to take out the leader of this swarm.”
“Yes, truly a display worthy of worsh…” The Fairy trailed off. “... This swarm?”
“Singularities are bigger than single battlefields, and there’s a mountain right there.” Mordred pointed in the direction the Mini-Nobu’s had run off into. “Given the usual size of a Mini-Nobu murder, I’d say we’re looking at two to three more groups of that size. Bigger, once the survivors join their brethren.”
Baobhan Sidhe groaned loudly. “But I’m exhausted. ”
“Maybe don’t use a shitty curse on the next group.” Mordred spoke drily.
“That was a wonderful curse, thank you very much.” Baobhan Sidhe snapped. “That man’s Fetch technique is such a rush. You can feel the heart stop beating as you drive in the killing blow.”
Mordred ignored the reminder of the Fae’s monstrosity. “Which man?”
The Fairy fell silent.
...Well, information to pass onto Romani. Someone had taught Baobhan Sidhe a technique named after the Fetch-type Fae. Mordred had to wonder if it was that fucker Solomon. He was certainly no stranger to death curses, even if the one he had cast on Ritsuka had been a fair bit more complex.
Given the girl’s silence, it was probably related to however she got information on Chaldean secrets.
“Let’s find a place to rest.” Mordred decided. It’d be bad if her backup collapsed in the middle of battle from that karmic backlash, even if Mordred did want the Fairy dead. “There’s a cave at the base of the mountain. We’ll rest there before we push the assault.”
The Knight led the way. Keeping her back to the Fairy Knight was maybe unwise, but part of Mordred hoped that Baobhan Sidhe took the chance and made herself a threat so Mordred could respond.
Once the two of them were in the cave, the Fairy Knight muttered a small spell to create a fire. Mordred wasn’t sure why, it was still sunlight out and the cave wasn’t that deep. Guess she just wanted some more heat.
The fire cackled for a while.
“Isn’t that armour heavy?” Baobhan Sidhe asked.
“No.” Mordred lied. It was really heavy, but she got used to it. “And even if it was, I’m not taking it off. You just want to know who I am.”
“What reason do you have to hide your identity from me?” The Fairy asked. “I know you are a Knight of the Round Table, but which? You do not bear any sign of Gawain or Lancelot-”
The Fae silenced herself quickly, which only confirmed Mordred’s suspicions. Whatever connection the Fairy Knight had with Tristan was shared by at least two others in her Singularity.
Of course one of them had to be Gawain. Of course one of Mordred’s siblings needed to be getting the same fucking insult. On the one hand, it was better Gawain than any of Mordred’s other siblings. He’d at least lived until the end, so that was a less painful wound for Mordred. And thank fuck it wasn’t Lamorak. If Baobhan Sidhe had claimed his name instead of Tristan’s, she would’ve killed her the moment the name had left her lips.
But it was still really fucking annoying to know there were more fairies out there insulting the Round Table, and that Mordred’s brother was one of the ones taking the insult.
“How much do you even know about the Round Table?” Mordred asked.
“A fair amount.” Baobhan Sidhe responded. “I was summoned with vague records, at least.”
Disappointing. Mordred was hoping that the Fae’s knowledge was limited, and thus would consist of facts divinable from her Singularity. That would’ve given a lot of hints as to what the hell had happened in the ‘Fairy Britain’ she spoke of.
“It sounds like the Camelot of your world was rather pathetic, honestly.” The Fae started literally playing with fire, a clear sign that she knew she was doing so metaphorically as well. “Compared to Her Majesty’s rule, this King Arthur must have been unfit to rule.”
“You lacked the capacity to be King.”
“Pick your words carefully.” Mordred’s voice was like a blade being drawn from its sheath. The Fairy Knight’s hands went to her neck on instinct.
“A proper monarch knows how to grind traitors under their heel.” Baobhan Sidhe explained. “That King Arthur’s world was torn apart from the inside shows that they were too soft to make the decisions needed to rule.”
“You know nothing, fairy.” Mordred hissed. “If you think Morgan can be trusted to look after anything , then you are as deluded as you are evil.”
“Her Majesty-”
“King Arthur was the best ruler Britain could ever hope for.” Mordred declared. “The King sacrificed their own heart to protect the land. They faced impossible odds and won .”
“You’d think such a messiah would be praised by their people.” Baobhan Sidhe cut in.
“Because the King took the brunt of every sacrifice.” Mordred retorted. “When a battle was truly lost, they would sacrifice a village for the resources to save as many as possible. Countless hours spent calculating strategy, finding weaknesses, and creating the best possible front against endless foes. Any other Knight would have found themselves deepthroating Roman boot just to escape the stress of it.”
“So they had the capacity to be a tyrant, but were-”
“Do you think the King liked sacrificing their own people?” Mordred snapped. “King Arthur could name every single man, woman and child slain because of the sacrifices they commanded. Each death was a tragedy which the King bore alone to save their Knights the pain. It was not tyranny that led the King.”
Mordred could remember the rebellion she had incited. The Knight had no delusions of what kind of person she was. Her brief rule had been one of tyranny, trampling on the social order for no purpose other than her own satisfaction. She declared feasts for herself and ignored the peasantry, she demanded attendance in what few tourney’s and parades she had declared.
And yet the people loved her for it. It was easy to see why- For fools blind to the King’s sacrifices, Mordred was someone they could understand. If she so wanted, Mordred could have declared Primae Noctis and had the women in the land for herself, and the people would have celebrated the fact that they could understand the King’s desires.
“People can’t understand sacrifices they have never had to bear.” Mordred continued. “They’ll find fault in the most righteous defence, turn the extraordinary into the expected, and they’ll chew up the truly kind, the truly selfless, without even realising how heartless they are.”
“Ah…”
The Fairy Knight’s eyes softened. It was like she was ten years younger as that wordless gasp left her lips. There was a deep sorrow in her eyes. A deep pain. Mordred tilted her head, but before she could say anything--
“Hm?” Baobhan Sidhe blinked. “I must have dozed off. Where were we?”
...Whatever. Mordred’s job was to gather information and report it to the bosses. If she couldn’t derive a conclusion on the spot, she didn’t care enough to dig deeper. Maybe it was the karmic backlash finally having its effect. Maybe it was something in her past. It didn’t matter.
“It’s time we got going.” Mordred decided. “We’ll want to get the drop on the Mini-Nobbu’s, rather than the other way around-”
“Nobbu!”
The next time Mordred saw Romani Archaman, she was putting the man in a chokehold and shoving him into a locker.
There was a tone to debriefings that was absent here. It was the first time Fujimaru Ritsuka and Baobhan Sidhe had been in the same room since the initial summoning.
The security Chaldea was putting into this debrief was very obvious. Mordred stood between Baobhan Sidhe and the red-haired girl who was the Master. Mashu stood by Ritsuka’s side, her shield already in her hand. They were the only three Servants visible in the room, but Mordred had seen a flash of blonde hair out the door when Ritsuka had entered.
Not to mention the fact that Ritsuka kept looking over to the corner behind Mordred. The Knight didn’t know which Assassin was in the room, but she was fairly certain that they had either lied to Ritsuka about where they were standing, or they weren’t the only one. Or maybe they had overestimated Ritsuka’s ability to not give their presence away.
“Mission accomplished, Master.” Mordred declared. “We’ve successfully put down the Mini-Nobu Union Busters and retrieved the materials their boss was hoarding.”
“Good work.” Ritsuka paused. She wasn’t used to using class titles for Servants in Chaldea, but she knew Mordred wanted to keep her secrecy around the Fairy. “Saber.”
“And what of I?” Baobhan Sidhe demanded. “I worked harder than anyone. And I made many great sacrifices.”
She gestured down at her exposed hoof.
“I expect compensation, Master of Chaldea!” The Fairy declared. “I expect replacement for those heels- And ten more besides!”
It was a good thing that the Fairy Knight was acknowledging Ritsuka’s authority, or at least putting on a show of it.
“Can’t you use magic to repair the shoe?” Ritsuka asked.
“Well, duh.” Baobhan Sidhe cut her finger with the nail of her thumb and bled on her foot. The heel reconstructed around the hoof, restored to its original form in a matter of seconds. “But I demand more. I lost my collection when you summoned me here, you know.”
Mordred was glad her face was covered so the Baobhan Sidhe couldn’t notice her reaction. Neither Ritsuka or Mashu appeared to pick up on it, but that was very strange wording on the fairy’s behalf. She hadn’t lost the collection through death, she had lost it through the summoning.
Either the Fairy Knight didn’t remember dying, or she wasn’t dead. Looking back, Mordred couldn’t recall a single time that Baobhan Sidhe had abandoned her physical form.
“I’ll see if anyone can be pulled in to make shoes for you.” Ritsuka mused. From the way she was smiling, you’d think she had never been attacked by this Fairy. Well, the Master’s dumbassery was a well established fact. Between her opinions on the altered Jeanne d’Arc after the counterfeit incident and the shadow that lurked within her dreams, Fujimaru Ritsuka was a woman who was apparently incapable of holding a bad first impression against someone.
“Better be fancy shoes.” Baobhan Sidhe huffed. “And I want them soon! Tell your craftsmen to put their blood, sweat and tears into it- And I’ll know if they skimp on the blood!”
“That’s not happening.” Ritsuka replied with a smile. “Your reward for good behaviour is not that you get to make people bleed.”
Baobhan Sidhe grumbled, but she didn’t try to approach the Master and no spells began to form. She wasn’t acting out, at least. Mashu’s glare was certainly waiting for her to do so. She was definitely the more concerned out of the two teenage girls before Mordred. Ritsuka was able to get over the scare of being attacked in Chaldea, but Mashu also carried a sense of shame for what she perceived as a failure to protect her Master from that scare in the first place.
“Any idea what our next deployment will be?” Mordred asked her Master.
“We’re going back to Singularity F.” Ritsuka declared. “It’s good to clean that place out every once in a while.”
Mashu paused. Her head slowly turned to stare at her Master, who for some reason couldn’t look her Servant in the eye. “Senpai, how many Bones are in storage right now?”
“W-What a weird question, Mashu.” Ritsuka responded.
“Who was it, Senpai?” Mashu asked.
“...Shuten and Jing Ke.” Ritsuka admitted. “I- Listen. They were drinking and I was feeling left out, Shuten suggested truth or dare, I can’t possibly be held responsible for moving those two up on the Ascension schedule while Romani wasn’t looking.”
“So the Master is susceptible to coercion…” Baobhan Sidhe mused in what she probably thought was a statement too quiet to hear.
“Not from witches who keep complaining that we won’t let her murder innocent people.” Mordred corrected.
“Listen, the past isn’t too relevant right now.” Ritsuka declared. “What’s important is the past. The further past, not the last few days. We’ll just head in, break a few skeletons, look around to see if we can find any reason why the Singularity is still standing, and then we’ll be right out again.”
Mashu sighed. “Very well. But we can’t go now, Saber and Archer need their rest.”
God damn right Mordred needed her rest. Singularity F was the worst.
So what was it about Singularity F that made the place so terrible?
The fact that it was constantly on fire? Yeah, that contributed a bunch. It was always hot, and Mordred wore plate armour. Even insulated as she was, she felt the heat worse than anyone else except maybe Ritsuka.
Was it the skeletons? Too few to pose an actual threat, spread out far enough that hunting them was an issue, but still dangerous enough to the Master that you couldn’t let your guard down. Made for tedious work to hunt them down in the field of flames.
It wasn’t just the roaring. That had died down after the Chaldeans had found the source. The blackened Berserker took most of Chaldea’s resources to overcome, it hadn’t actually resolved the Singularity, and Mordred had not known her arm could bend the way it did after the fucker got into melee range, but at least the roaring stopped. The phantom pain in her arm did contribute to making the experience worse, though.
All of those were reasons why this never ending hellfire of a Singularity was garbage, but what made it the worst was something a bit more subtle.
The hunting party today consisted of a group of five. Ritsuka and Mashu were hunkering down in the usual shelter, and Baobhan Sidhe was patrolling around the centre to hunt skeletons. Looking down at her charge from the rooftop, Mordred couldn’t help but turn her gaze to the fifth member by her side.
Father’s face overlooking the burning city was painful to behold.
Mordred didn’t know the full story. There was a distance between herself and Father that she wasn’t able to fully overcome, even in Chaldea. The fact that they were able to work together as much as they did was a miracle. Every once in a while, Mordred would wake up in Chaldea feeling the phantom pain of where Rhongomyriad had pierced her heart. She was sure the same must happen to Father, with the blow that had taken her life.
But even with that distance, Mordred had gathered enough. Rather than becoming a Heroic Spirit after her death, Father had been called through time in her dying moments. What exactly had happened during those summonings was unclear, but it was the records of the initial expedition into Singularity F that made it apparent that Father had been here before.
Well. ‘Here’. Based on what Mordred had overheard from Romani, Father’s recollection of events did not line up to history regarding the city of Fuyuki. Perhaps it was an alternate timeline, but the shape of the city was still familiar to Father. To see it burn hurt.
That was why Singularity F was the worst. It made King Arthur weep.
“Quite a strange girl, isn’t she?” Father mused.
Mordred followed her gaze back down to Baobhan Sidhe. The witch had tried to stab a skeleton with her heel and ended up with said heel stuck between the ribcage. She struggled for a moment to pull free without damaging the heel. The moment she gave up was the moment those spider leg-like spikes emerged from her back to break the skeleton in question.
“Strange is one way to put it.” Mordred muttered. “She’s a nightmare.”
“Is that so?” Father asked. “You’ve done a good job at controlling her if that’s the case.”
“She’s learnt to shut up if she doesn’t want to face the consequences.” Mordred thought about it for a second. Secret of Pedigree deactivated, revealing her face to the burning world around her.
“Da Vinci and Romani have put together a preliminary case report on the girl.” Father turned her gaze away from Baobhan Sidhe to look at Mordred herself. “It isn’t yet complete, but it paints a peculiar picture.”
“Something about her story has been sticking out to me.” Mordred observed. “She calls herself mother’s heir in ‘Fairy Britain’. Father, how strong of a fairy is a Baobhan Sidhe?”
“I have never encountered a fairy under that name before.” Father answered. “In all my time in Camelot, that was never a Fairy that Merlin thought it prudent to warn about.”
“As far as I can tell, a Baobhan Sidhe is only a minor fairy.” Mordred continued. “The Doctor says Clocktower mages are able to swindle wishes out of the modern iteration of the Fae. So how the hell did one end up as the heir to Britain?”
Father didn’t have an immediate answer to that. Her gaze returned back to Baobhan Sidhe, who was digging through the skeletal remains around her to find the most magical bones in the piles.
“If any Fae could have granted Morgan’s wish to rule over Britain, I would have known long ago.” Father thought aloud. “And whilst vile, Morgan has never struck me as the kind to turn to cruelty for cruelty’s sake. It should take more than capacity for torture for her to appoint someone as heir.”
“What kind of tool is she to mother?” Mordred followed suit. There was no doubt in her mind as to why Morgan le Fay would name someone as her heir. Perhaps earlier in mother’s life she would have had more capacity to care, but the mother Mordred knew had already sealed off her heart. Whatever capacity for love she had had given way, and each step of her detachment from compassion came with detachment from her humanity.
Was it possible that the Morgan of the Singularity was different? Perhaps. Mordred somehow doubted that a place known as Fairy Britain would have a more human Morgan le Fay than that Mordred had known.
“My best guess would be that she was the first of her kind to bear the title of one of my Knights.” Father proposed.
“Maybe.” Mordred mused. “Feels like mother would just replace her with a stronger fairy the moment she had someone better to manipulate there.”
“Unless none of the other ‘Fairy Knights’ needed such a position to be kept in line.” Father pointed out.
“It’s still strange that she’s held in such high regard.” Mordred muttered. “If the mother in the Singularity is anything like the mother I know, she wouldn’t intend to die to relinquish her rule. Why even appoint an heir, then? Why does Morgan care?”
Arturia turned her gaze to the distant flames. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
The two Sabers stood on the rooftop in silence as the fires sang around them.
“You’re mad, Master.” Mordred declared.
“It’s not the best idea.” Ritsuka admitted. “But Baobhan Sidhe has been behaving since you got to her, and we can’t rely on Arash to cover our Archer duties forever. We can’t even use his Noble Phantasm.”
“The Fairy Knight barely uses her bow.” Mordred pointed out. “And her best technique rots her soul.”
“She can still hit foes at a greater distance than all our non-Casters.” Ritsuka answered. “And she’d got the ability to survive someone getting into her face.”
“We don’t know how long her good behaviour will last, though.” Mordred backtracked to the original comment. “For all we know, she’s waiting until she has as much power as she needs to try another coup.”
“I’ve got my Command Seals ready.” Ritsuka raised her hand. “If she has been playing the long con- Which I doubt- I can keep her still long enough for you to stop her.”
“How the hell did Da Vinci allow this?” Mordred demanded to know.
“She thinks we can win Baobhan Sidhe over with a bit more pressure.” Ritsuka explained. “If we can remove the limitations on her Saint Graph, she might feel like she’s been trusted enough to let her guard down more.”
The Summoning ritual in Chaldea was made with its Master in mind. Although the system took the burden of maintaining the Servants off of Ritsuka, she still had to push herself to summon a Servant and allow them to fight. Thus, the summoning ritual used by Chaldea placed more limitations on its Servants than the standard ritual did.
The Ascension ritual was in place to empower a Servant once Ritsuka was used to them. It removed the limiters from their Saint Graph and allowed them to act as they could as a true Servant. Having been through it herself, Mordred knew what a relief the ritual was. It was like wearing a too-tight suit of armour all day and finally being able to take it off. By the end, you don’t notice how burdensome it is until you remove it.
“I don’t like it either, Saber.” Mashu spoke from behind her Master. She was clad in her standard uniform rather than Galahad’s armour. “But I trust Da Vinci. Besides, Romani thinks it might be necessary to figure out her secrets.”
“How so?” Mordred asked.
“He mentioned your musings about whether or not Baobhan Sidhe was a proper Servant that had forgotten her own death, or a spirit filling in for a Heroic Spirit due to some kind of contract.” Mashu recounted. “From his own analysis, her Saint Graph is undeniably that of one who has touched the Throne of Heroes. Furthermore, it looks as if the restrictions on her Saint Graph are keeping something specific locked away.”
“You think it might be relevant to her death.” Mordred concluded.
“Doctor Romani does.” Mashu corrected. “If he’s willing to see her Ascended and Da Vinci believes it's safe, then I’ll trust the both of them.”
There was something strange about Mashu’s voice as she discussed Baobhan Sidhe and her secrets. Mordred filed that away for the moment. It looks like she wasn’t talking her Master out of this.
“Fine.” Mordred decided. “I’ll watch over it. Where’s the witch now?”
“Already in the Ascension room.” Ritsuka explained. “Da Vinci is preparing her.”
“Let’s go.” Mordred declared. The three girls paced down the hallway with measured footsteps. After a hot minute, Mordred decided to take out that note she had filed away. “Shield girl. What’s with the tone?”
“Ah, did I have a tone?” Mashu seemed surprised.
“Not sure what it is.” Mordred explained. “It’s like. Fear? Melancholy? Did Romani figure something out?”
“It’s just a theory he has, based on the Fetch the girl used.” Mashu explained. “Has Baobhan Sidhe ever mentioned the name ‘Beryl Gut’?”
“Nope.” Mordred observed Mashu as she answered. It was subtle, but Mashu had wrapped one of her hands around the other's index finger and was rubbing it awkwardly. Protectively. It was such a specific motion that something had to have provoked it.
“Let me know if she ever does.” Mashu asked of Mordred. “Romani thinks it might be related to how she knew Chaldean secrets.”
“Who’s Beryl Gut?” Ritsuka asked.
“I’ll explain later, Senpai.” Mashu decided. “We’re here.”
The Ascension chambers were a big room, but most of it was dedicated to the ritual circle. The onlookers had to step behind a glass wall to make sure they didn’t conaminate the ritual. Da Vinci was putting the finishing touches on Baobhan Sidhe’s specific Ascension ritual. A good number of stakes were hammered into the ground with horseshoes spun around them.
The girl herself was preening at the attention. And moreso the medals that had been attached to her dress. The point of the ritual was to resonate with the Servant’s Saint Graph in such a way that the Saint Graph expanded over its restrictions, so those knightly medals must have been there to resonate with the mimicry of Tristan within the Fairy Knight.
The reagents that Mordred had actually expected- Stones of blood shaped into tears- Were placed on top of the stakes. With that, Da Vinci escaped to behind the glass. “Baobhan Sidhe, are you ready?”
“I am ready.” The Fairy laughed. “Are you ready to be amazed by my majesty?”
“Beginning Ascension.” Da Vinci declared. “Master, when you’re ready.”
“Ready.” Ritsuka put her hand on the glass. Her Command Seals shone a blinding red. “Materials have been prepared to remove all restrictions on the Saint Graph of Servant Archer, Baobhan Sidhe. Begin.”
The light from the circle was a bright blue that slowly came to envelop Baobhan Sidhe. The Fairy chuckled, but her laughter was buried as the magic that made up her form was reconstructed. This was the first step in the Ascension process. The body was made malleable to allow for any physical changes. Servants often had their clothing warp around them at this stage. Mordred still remembered stepping into the Ascension circle clad in full plate and stepping out almost naked. Master’s laughter still echoed in her ears.
The second phase was to begin once the light faded around the Servant. Once the magic seeped deeper than skin and could make meaningful changes. Mordred watched closely as Baobhan Sidhe came back into view.
Her red dress was gone, replaced by a rather revealing white outfit. Cut-outs on her sleeves and leggings revealed black flesh that ended at her torso, apart from a few crawling veins reaching into her usual gray skin. What had once been a hoof had taken the shape of a real foot, but the darkness of the flesh made it difficult to tell past her heal.
The protrusions which the witch used in combat were hanging out of her body now, draped in red ribbons that matched her hair. Or most of her hair- The tips of the Fairy Knight’s locks had been dyed white.
The hat she had somehow gained was distracting, a gaudy thing with roses and thorns. Red ribbons hung over the top of the white cap and met the red frills that were hidden directly underneath.
But the face of the Fae was the biggest change. There was a shadow over her eyes, one potentially mistakable for dark makeup but which reminded Mordred of bruises. The same dark flesh from the girls limbs crawled down her eyes like the stains left behind by tears. Those marks were crossed by a strip of black cloth that covered her mouth.
As the magic seeped deeper into the Archer, Baobhan Sidhe screamed.
The pain in her voice carved through Mordred’s spine. Ritsuka tried to pull her hand away from the glass instinctively, but the power in the ritual kept her rooted in place. No such luck for the fairy. Baobhan Sidhe collapsed, her hands clutching her throat.
The glass shattered around Mordred’s armour as she leapt onto the ritual circle. The light flickered as the circle was disrupted, but the ritual was near enough done. Maybe one last layer of restraint would remain on the Saint Graph, but Mordred wasn’t thinking about that.
She wasn’t thinking of much at all. The moment she had heard the scream, her body had reacted. Something was wrong, and Mordred needed to deal with it.
“What’s going on?” Mordred asked the girl on her knees.
“Hurts.” The Fae whimpered. Her hands moved from her throat and crossed over, grasping at where the gray flesh turned black. “Rotting off, falling off, disappearing it’s disappearing it hurt mother it hurts-”
“Da Vinci!” Mordred shouted. “What’s happening?”
“I-” The genius was more flustered than Mordred had ever seen her. “Get her to the infirmary. Romani, are you listening?”
A voice spoke over a speaker. “I’m heading there now. Saber, hurry along.”
Mordred’s eyes darted over the others behind the broken glass- Ritsuka clutching her arm, collapsed in Mashu’s arms- Before grabbing the rambling Fae and running.
Time was a blur from Mordred grabbing the girl and kicking in the door to the infirmary. Doctor Romani was already waiting for her with a bed prepared. The rest of the infirmary was empty, which sure made things convenient.
The Knight moved to put the fairy down. Baobhan Sidhe didn’t resist, curling into a ball and grabbing at her throat again.
“Just the Ascension did this?” Romani muttered to himself. “What kind of Saint Graph does she have if-”
“Finding out is your job, isn’t it?” Mordred snapped at him.
“Ah.” The fairy winced at Mordred’s raised voice. “It hurts, mother. Was it enough? Was I enough?”
Mother. Damn that word. What the hell had Morgan done?
“Ah, the village…” The girl’s eyes were glassed over. Wherever she was looking, it wasn’t reality. “I need to help them, Miss Tonelico. I can’t-”
She let out a sudden cry, her hands reaching for each other.
“Gone, gone.” The girl sounded panicked as her fingers overlaced. “My fingers- Beryl, my fingers-”
Romani’s eyes were sad, but his expression was harder than anything Mordred had ever seen. She hadn’t known the Doctor could look that angry, even if his eyes were still soft.
“Take this.” Romani gave Mordred a box of pills. “Ritsuka might be hurt from the backlash. If she needs the painkillers, give them to her.”
“Baobhan-”
“Give me time.” Romani sounded pained himself. “You’re just wasting your time standing around until I’ve had the time to look at her. Surely you’ve got better things to do.”
He was right, though Mordred didn’t like it. At the very least, Mordred had a delivery to do.
“I’ll contact you the moment I know what happened.” Romani assured Mordred.
Baobhan SIdhe gave another gasp of pain. “I’m sorry, mother. I can do better. I can- Ah.”
Tch. Mordred was just gonna get pissed off standing here anyway. Without another word, the Knight made her exit.
The cafeteria at Chaldea was packed at meal time, but usually empty between that. There was always a Servant or two ready to cook- A certain bird who guarded the underworld, for instance- So if two Servants wanted to talk, it was a reliable truth that they could talk over a hot meal.
In Mordred’s hands was a rather large burger. It was easily the size of her skull and would be a filling meal on its own, even without the chips that had come with it. Mordred couldn’t be bothered taking her time, so she placed the chips beneath the bun to add them to her meal.
On the opposite side of the table was the one who had suggested the burger for Mordred. If she disproved of Mordred’s modification, she didn’t show it. Perhaps she was too distracted by her own burger. Perhaps she was focused on the talk the two were supposed to have.
Mordred waited. She had been the one invited to eat and talk. It was polite to let her companion talk first. Of course, she wouldn’t have bothered with that politeness were it literally anyone else.
The King of Knights spoke softly. “Romani told me what happened.”
Mordred didn’t reply right away. Her teeth closed around the burger. Talk about fairy witch bad, food good.
“As I understand it, Baobhan Sidhe’s behaviour since her Ascension has been… Bipolar, for a lack of a better word.” Father continued. “One moment, she’s screaming and pained. The next, she is melancholic and offering help.”
“I’d heard.” Mordred sighed. “Romani thinks what was buried in her Saint Graph was a prior incarnation. A manifestation of the fairy Baobhan Sidhe died painfully. When the fairy was reborn, mother took her in and turned her into that thing.”
“Thing.” Father repeated. “A rather disdainful method of address, for someone you acted so fast to care for.”
Tch. So Father had noticed.
“What else was I meant to do?” Mordred asked. “I heard someone screaming like they were dying and I acted on it.”
“Not unexpected of you.” Father mused. “You’ve always been one to follow your instincts. Even if it’s a woman you hate, that fact is put aside by the desire to stop someone's pain.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m overemotional.” Mordred grumbled. She didn’t need to hear this.
“I did not say it was a bad thing.” Father responded. “I am curious what would win out the next time you see Baobhan Sidhe. The memory of her insults and vile nature, or the memory of her fragile screams?”
Mordred would be damned if she knew. It was a lot harder to hate someone after seeing them that vulnerable.
“It puts a lot into perspective.” Mordred shifted the topic. “Baobhan Sidhe’s been rambling non-stop, apparently. From what I heard, she wants to please people.”
“She is a wish-granting Fairy.” Father nodded. “I suppose that was the cause of her last incarnation’s death. The wishes placed upon her were too much for her.”
“And then mother gets her hands on her, and has the girl wrapped around her fingers instead.” Mordred grumbled.
“I’m not so sure.” Father responded. “We discussed it earlier. If Morgan merely wanted to control that girl, then she has gone far beyond what is required to win that girl’s loyalty.”
“Well she’s not doing it out of the goodness of her own bloody heart, now is she?” Mordred scoffed.
Father didn’t respond.
“...You don’t actually think so, do you?”
“By the time you were born, Morgan was already at her worst.” Father mused. “Even what better nature she had had been compartmentalized, locked away to be used as a weapon.”
“You telling me she hadn’t degraded at all by the time she went after Lamorak?” Mordred asked.
“Not meaningfully.” Father responded. “At that stage, her human body was just another tool to her. Its charm could be used as a vector to ignite the blood feud between the children of Pellinore and the children of Lot. Its death at the edge of Gaheris’s blade of no concern.”
Father must have seen the anger in Mordred’s eyes, because she moved on quickly. “The first attempt Morgan made on my life, she stole away Excalibur and Avalon to give to a Knight who swore loyalty to her. Sir Accolon truly believed that the throne belonged to your mother. I did not learn of who my attacker was until my shield had caved in their chest, and I did not learn the full story until later.”
“And what’s this got to do with mother apparently having a heart?” Mordred asked. “Sounds to me that she’s always been a bitch.”
“Accolon had a cousin named Manassen.” Father explained. “He was a minor knight in my employ. He held no strong loyalty to Morgan, nor did he have any noteworthy skill or ability. So when Morgan saved him from being drowned, what benefit did it have to her?”
Mordred tilted her head. Manassen. It was vaguely familiar, like a name she would have heard called in a feast.
“Morgan le Fay was human once.” Father continued. “More human than I at the time. I believe that when she saved the knight Manassen, only to never speak to him again, it was a repayment of the sacrifice Accolon has undergone for her sake.”
“Maybe so.” Mordred couldn’t imagine the mother she knew lifting a finger to save a pup from drowning, let alone a Knight in her enemy’s employ.
“Morgan hardened her heart and became cruel as her quest for my throne proved fruitless.” The King of Knights mused. “I cannot say for sure what happened in the Singularity, but I can see a heartless and cruel Fae who’s true nature is in helping others. One who calls Morgan ‘Mother’. I do not have all the facts, but I believe a connection is obvious.”
“Whatever happened, something happened.” Mordred muttered to herself.
“Was it enough? Was I enough?”
“Just how bad did mother fuck up raising that one?” Mordred asked herself.
Father took a bite of her burger wordlessly. Her gaze was fixed on Mordred.
“Oi, what’s that look mean?” Mordred asked.
“I am curious.” Father swallowed her burger as she spoke. “Putting aside my beliefs on Morgan, and the potential reason why Morgan took interest in Baobhan Sidhe. Knowing what you know now, knowing that the fairy’s cruelty has been in service to a desire to make another happy, knowing who she truly is- Do you think you have it in you to hate Baobhan Sidhe?”
God damn it. Mordred already knew the answer to that, and it pissed her off.
“I suppose the answer to that is not relevant.” Father must have seen the look in Mordred’s eye. She must have known what her answer was. “So I shall ask another. How do you intend to handle her when you next meet?”
Mordred sighed. “I don’t know.”
Father took another bite of her burger. She wanted Mordred to keep talking, huh?
“Once she’s out of the infirmary, what’s she going to be like?” Mordred asked. “If she’s just going to be the same but more functional, I don’t know. If she relapses and forgets…”
Fuck, that would just be the worse. Even if Baobhan Sidhe was behaving herself recently, it was still apparent under the surface that she had no qualms about her monstrosity except as far as people went to punish her for it. To have the Fairy Knight go back to that, knowing what Mordred did about her true nature?
Oh, how Mordred wished she could just hate the girl.
It was a full week before Mordred met with Baobhan Sidhe again. A full week for Mordred to consider what her plan was, depending on what the Fairy was like once she was stable.
Romani had concluded that the problem with the Fae was primarily in her mind. While the changes in her body were reflective of something that had happened to the Fairy, the pain she felt from them was entirely a phantom pain created by her restored memories.
A sliver of restriction remained on Baobhan Sidhe’s Saint Graph. Romani’s report was that the Fairy still didn’t remember the exact events of her final death. Current plan with Chaldea is to leave that cat in its bag. Probably for the best.
That just left the meeting. Mordred didn’t wait at the door. That would give time for her to think of worse-case scenarios. Instead, she pushed through as soon as she reached Baobhan Sidhe’s room.
Her look had changed. Or rather, partially reverted. She’d dropped the white clothing and the hat to fall back to her original red dress, but those black marks still lined her eyes. Her limbs were still marked. The tips of her hair were still white. She’d changed what she could change. Including the spider-like legs apparently.
“Sir Knight.” The tone of the girl’s voice was casually aristocratic. Mordred swore under her breath. “I seem to have misplaced the last week or so. What exactly was done to me?”
“Accident with the Ascension ritual.” Mordred explained. “Romani should’ve covered this.”
“That man bores me.” The girl sighed. “Your Magus Master must be quite the incompetent to allow such an accident to happen to me . I ought to discipline her. Do you have any whips, Sir Knight?”
“Do not.”
The simple rejection seemed to sting the Archer. That was to be expected. Mordred’s earlier threats had stuck with her well.
Except the look in her eyes wasn’t fear. It was pure hurt.
“Never mind, then.” Baobhan Sidhe muttered softly.
She sat there, dejected. Mordred simply stared as the girl played with her hands.
“Was I enough?”
...Fuck it. “Stand up.”
“Huh?” The girl blinked as she looked to Mordred.
“We’re going to the simulator.” Mordred decided. “You’ve been calling yourself a Knight all this time. It’s about time someone showed you how to be a Knight.”
Mordred led the way, whilst the Fairy Knight followed silently. When Mordred looked back, she could see confusion on the girl’s face. Only ever for a second, before the girl hurried to avert her gaze.
Mordred wasn’t sure how good her read was, but she had a theory.
The only diversion Mordred made on the path to the simulator was to stop by the storage closet and grab a wooden sword. All in all, it didn’t take long at all to get to her destination. Baobhan Sidhe looked at Mordred in confusion as the Knight put the training sword in the Fae’s hand.
“What-”
“Training exercise.” Mordred declared. “Simulator. Training dummy, module three.”
The simulator spun to life, creating a mimicry of some kind of european knight. He held a blade in one hand and a shield in the other.
“Hit that guy.” Mordred decided. “Go.”
Baobhan Sidhe looked at Mordred, the sword in her hands, and then to the simulated knight. The knight stepped forward, and Baobhan Sidhe charged in response. Her swing for his head bounced off his raised shield, and his simulated blade caught Baobhan Sidhe in the gut. The moment the false steel touched real flesh, the simulated knight vanished. He reappeared a moment later at his starting stance.
“Try again.” Mordred demanded.
The result was much the same the second time. The third time, Baobhan Sidhe swung for the knight’s legs instead. It was very apparent that the sword was a bad weight for her, but that was a problem to be corrected later.
Eventually, Mordred had to give advice. “Try countering. Let him attack first, defend, then attack.”
Baobhan Sidhe didn’t seem to respond to Mordred’s suggestion. When next the knight stepped forward, she waited regardless.
She actually managed to get the parry. Wooden sword met simulated sword and blade clashed against blade. Given that her sword wasn’t a Noble Phantasm, Mordred would have to make sure that bad habit didn’t develop. Baobhan Sidhe twisted her hand to try to alter the momentum of the blade, but too slow. The shield was slammed into her face and knocked the girl over.
“What was that!” Baobhan Sidhe objected. “Humans don’t move that fast! Most fairies don’t move that fast!”
Mordred wondered if she should mention that she had provided the data for this simulation, that it had been her speed that the Fae was being measured against. As she wondered, the simulation reset. In frustration, Baobhan Sidhe threw her sword aside.
Mordred was about to scold the girl for avoiding the exercise, but a flick of her hand created a blade of blood. It was thinner, less weighty. This time, Baobhan Sidhe sidestepped the downward swing and had the time to put the blade into the simulated knight’s visor.
Baobhan Sidhe paused for a moment as the simulation vanished. The bloody blade vanished from her grip as she turned to look at Mordred. “Did I do good?”
There was an earnestness to the Fairy’s words which Mordred didn’t think the girl noticed. That was a fairly strong point towards Mordred’s theory.
Fairies were creatures who filled a role. It was hardly something unique to Fairies, but it was universally true to Fairies. Baobhan Sidhe…
“I need to help them, Miss Tonelico.”
She wasn’t an inherently evil creature. The Baobhan Sidhe that Mordred had heard of might’ve become bloodsucking monkey paws in the night, but how much of that was their role and how much of that was how they had grown? Baobhan Sidhe was much the same way. A creature that existed to help, tainted by Morgan le Fay’s upbringing.
Nature and nurture. The argument dated back to before memory. Mordred herself was an example of that. She was created to rebel and overthrow King Arthur. She had done that in the end, but not for her mother’s sake. How much of Mordred’s rebellion came down to the role she was created for, and how much of it was because of the person she had become through the guidance of her siblings and her fellow knights?
Mordred liked to think that her actions were her own, but she wasn’t going to pretend that she’d be the same person if she had been created to plant flowers and hug puppies. The way she liked to think of it, she was created for an evil purpose and had grown past that to be her own, mostly good person.
Baobhan Sidhe was the opposite. A naturally good person, raised to be evil. But even as she easily spoke of cruelty and dominion, she sought approval like a touch starved child. In her ramblings, she had spoken to her mother and to someone called Tonelico. People she had latched onto in the past, Mordred assumed.
And now the girl was looking to Mordred with eyes that begged for validation.
Father had wondered what Mordred’s plan would be for the Fae moving forward? Mordred had wondered much the same. Fortunately, an answer had presented itself to her.
“Good work, kid.” Mordred raised her enclosed hand to the Fairy Knight. Baobhan Sidhe stared for a moment. “Fistbump.”
“Uh…” Baobhan Sidhe closed her fist, then rapped her knuckles on top of Mordred’s. “Like that?”
“...Close enough.” Mordred decided. “Not all Knights use a sword, but I ain’t about to figure out how to teach someone how to use a bow. Not like you need to aim anyway. But as far as it goes, using a sword for the first time, you did pretty damn good.”
The witch beamed at Mordred’s praise.
Morgan le Fay had gone and ruined a perfectly good Fairy. This first step gave Mordred the hope that she could unruin the kid, given time.
“W-well, of course.” Baobhan Sidhe took her time in putting on airs. “I’m the greatest knight in Fairy Britain! Even if Lancelot is more powerful, the Queen picked me as her heir for a reason. I’m due a reward now, no?”
“Alright.” Mordred decided. “Let’s go talk to Da Vinci about those shoes you wanted.”
Was this attachment and desire for acknowledgement healthy? Probably not. But even if Mordred was taking advantage of that to steer her right, it was better for Baobhan Sidhe than if Mordred just let her regress.
Was it gonna be easy? Fuck no. Like ten minutes ago, Mordred had heard the girl declare her intention to have Master flogged as punishment for something she couldn’t even remember. But that didn’t mean Mordred wasn’t gonna give it her best. It certainly wasn’t impossible . Just look at Mordred herself.
It wouldn’t be the first time the wicked witch’s daughter became a real Knight.