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She was back in the darkness, the strange ocean of corruption she had sunken into just before that Assassin’s Cursed Hand had touched her. Or had it been her? She had seen some mirror, warped version of herself, whose armor was dark, whose eyes were as golden as Excalibur should’ve been; yet the blade the other her carried was dark and glowing with a crimson, malevolent light. No, the one she had seen was the green-eyed naive, pure king whose ideals had killed her, turned her into a martyr of knighthood and chivalry…!
Arthur twisted in that deep ocean, looking for the other her, because if she could just see who she was not, she would know who she was. The armor was gone, and her clothes seemed to be blue one moment, black the next. Above her was a ring of light, impossibly far away. She tried to swim towards it, but it only seemed to grow further away. The edges of the light, once white and unsullied (though how she knew that she could not recall), were stained a sickly red, and it cast a pale glow into the ocean.
If she could only reach the ring of light, she would know, she would know who she was! Arthur (was her name, but was it still?) cried out in her frustration, but there was no one around to hear her, no one to help her.
A voice within herself told her what she was: A king of knights, the ruler of Britain, the one who had formed the Round Table. The husband of Guinevere (that name meant nothing now), fated to unite Britain from birth, and ultimately the one who had brought about its ruin. The one who had, after defeating their nephew (son) Mordred–
She stopped struggling as the truth hit her. Arthur was dead. Not only the Arthur who had died after the Battle of Camlann, but Saber. Shirou–a faint memory rose to the surface of her consciousness–had raised a dagger and plunged it deep into her chest. She had relaxed then, sure that she had been freed from whatever force had taken hold of her soul… yet here she was, floating again in the sea of corruption.
Arthur oriented herself so that she faced the ring of light as she descended. The light grew weaker and weaker, and her surroundings grew cold. Previously, there had been no sensation, but now, a deep chill stole into her limbs, making them feel heavier. Strangely enough, the heavier she felt, the faster she seemed to sink.
“The Grail,” she said aloud, in wonder.
The ring of light was the Grail. How could she have forgotten it? It was being corrupted, perhaps had been corrupted for a long time now… The darkness around her was not in the Grail, but was part of its corruption. Was she becoming fodder to its increased dark power? Fuyuki could fall again, but surely there was nothing she could do except watch passively and feel her very self be subsumed into that black and crimson rage…
“I hadn’t thought of you as someone who would give up so easily.”
In her peripheral vision, Arthur saw something–no, someone dressed in white. Both of them were now sinking.
“Who are you?” she asked without turning her head.
“Someone you once knew,” came the answer. “But I suppose now… you might call me the Grail?”
Eyes widening, Arthur spun quickly towards the figure. Her eyes were met with a woman, about her height, dressed in a white dress that went down to her ankles. Her skin was pale, and her hair was the same white as her dress, but her eyes…
“Oh come now, Saber, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen me,” the Grail said, smiling lightly. “Well, unless… You aren’t the Saber I knew, are you?”
Arthur couldn’t move her gaze from those red eyes, a brilliant shade of ruby. Everything about the woman seemed familiar, which meant they must have met before, but where? She was a homunculus, that was clear. By her claim of being the Grail, she would have to be a vessel. But when had they met?
“You know me,” she said eagerly, swimming towards the woman. “Tell me, Grail, who am I?”
She reached the Grail and grasped her arm, the flesh soft and surprisingly human to the touch. At the contact, some of the cold in her body seemed to subside, and their descent began to slow, which Arthur felt as a decrease in the tugging sensation on her body.
The Grail looked at her sadly, then reached out a hand and cupped her face. Confused, Arthur let her, wondering at the desire she quickly suppressed to lean into the hand.
“Saber, what happened?” the Grail whispered. “The corruption shouldn’t touch you so deeply… or at least, that’s what I had thought. There must be something it’s shown you to make you fall so far.”
“Please, tell me,” Arthur repeated anxiously. “You know who I am. Tell me.”
“You know, don’t you? Arthur Pendragon, once and future king of Britain. The one who died to treachery, the model of chivalry, wielder of Excalibur, the breath of the planet and hope of the people.”
Arthur shook her head. “No, no. That isn’t me. You know who I am. Tell me who I am!”
A flash of shock (and pain?) crossed the Grail’s face. “Saber, you…”
“Yes, Saber! Who is Saber? Who was Saber?” She covered the hand on her cheek with her own hand, never taking her eyes off the Grail’s face. “I thought I was the pure one–and then I thought I was the dark one, but they’re both dead. Who am I, then? Tell me, Grail. Who can I still be?”
The Grail turned her eyes up, toward the ring of light above them. Her gaze was unfocused, as if she were thinking about something else.
“I see,” the Grail murmured. “The corruption distorts–it consumes. But, I don’t know…”
Gently, the Grail took her hand off Arthur’s cheek, and Arthur almost reached out to grab it–but why? It felt as though she were residing in a body not her own. She should have been able to understand these impulses, but the memories would not come. Suddenly, the frustration, the pain of not knowing was so intense that it felt like it was ripping her heart in two. She let out a choked cry and curled into herself, clutching her hands together. The cold came back, stronger than before, and she was sure that her very limbs would freeze and crack, and she would dissolve into nothingness–
A hand on her back brought her back to herself. The Grail was rubbing slow circles on her back, and her eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
“I’ll tell you about yourself, Saber,” the Grail said, slowly, hesitantly. “I don’t know what will come of it. It could hurt you more than help. Are you willing to listen?”
Arthur nodded, the pain in her chest preventing her from speaking.
The Grail sighed. “It’s easy to begin. I was a participant in the last Holy Grail War, along with a man named Kiritsugu…”
As the Grail spoke, Arthur noticed that they had stopped sinking. As the pain and the cold subsided, she drew herself up beside the Grail and listened intently to the story of “Saber,” the Servant who had fought in the previous Holy Grail War. She listened to the actions of some past self that she could not connect to her “self” now; the Saber that had once dueled with a Lancer named Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, the Saber who had defeated serial-killing Caster, who had faced against the final Servant, Archer, and lost.
The Grail held Arthur’s hands throughout the recounting, and Arthur noticed that her grip tightened when telling of Saber’s defeat at the finale of the war.
“And that’s all that happened in your last summoning,” the Grail said, sounding drained. She lifted her eyes and looked at Saber questioningly. “How do you feel? Did it help?”
“So I am ‘Saber,’” Arthur said. “I see. I am the swordsman who lost.”
“Are you really satisfied with that?” the Grail said in a bitter tone.
Arthur looked at her, surprised. “Well, I must be who you said. I am not sure if I quite understand my role, but–”
“Role? Must you always have a role?”
“If I do not, how can I exist?”
The Grail’s grip on her hands tightened again. Her jaw clenched, Arthur noted.
“You don’t remember me–at all?”
“I suppose not,” Arthur said. “Although–it feels I should. I am sorry for not remembering you. You’ve just told me everything, but my memories still escape me.”
“No.” The Grail let out a breath. “I haven’t told you everything.”
Arthur blinked, brows drawing down. “Why? I wish to know myself–”
“I haven’t told you about myself. About me and you.”
The way she said it so softly, full of some emotion Arthur couldn’t identify yet, me and you, sent a thrill down her spine.
“I will listen,” she said. “Tell me everything.”
“I don’t know where to start… So I will tell you everything again, from the beginning.” The Grail closed her eyes. “You were my light from the moment I laid my eyes on you, Saber. I had always needed a hero to lead the way, a hero whose beliefs and convictions were unwavering so that my own inconsistencies could be erased. First it was Kiritsugu, but he set his sights on a world higher than my own… and then you came into my life. My knight in shining armor.” She smiled, and her cheeks reddened. “It felt like fate. You protected me, but you did more than that. You made me wish for myself. Every time I faltered, you were there to support me. I remember every moment: when you first spoke to me coldly because you thought Kiritsugu and I looked down on you for not being a man, when you looked down at me all afraid because you thought Kirei had dealt me a fatal blow. It was your presence which rescued me because Avalon was within me at the time.
“Do you remember the day we first entered the Japanese-style estate Kiritsugu bought? It was then I had to reveal to you my weakening constitution. I could not grip your hand with even the strength of a newborn, but you kissed my fingers, just like so–”
The Grail took Arthur’s fingers and brushed them with her lips, ever so lightly. Arthur shivered and could not stop her heart from jumping.
“You told me to rely on you. You told me you would be my strength. And after the final duel with Lancer, when I collapsed, you carried me back to the house and watched over me until I woke up. That was the last time we ever saw each other."
The Grail laughed, her eyes bright from tears. “Shall I tell you what you mean to me? Saber, you are the reason I found myself. You define me. You are my light in the darkness. You are my desire, you are my wish. You are the one I love.”
A heat had built in Arthur’s chest as the Grail spoke, and when the Grail finished speaking, the heat was in her heart, in her head, pounding painfully.
“You, I–When I lost to Archer,” Arthur said haltingly, her tongue feeling thick and heavy. “Were you there? Did you see what happened?”
The Grail avoided Arthur’s eyes, and that was confirmation enough. She pulled away from the Grail’s hands and looked at her palms. The pounding in her head made her see double, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Still, she felt the ghost of her blade in her hands, the burning insistence of Kiritsugu’s Command Spells forcing her arms into the air. She saw the golden light of Excalibur, no longer a symbol of hope but of despair because she was not bringing it down on an enemy, but on her very wish, on–but no, she had to face the Grail to say it. She needed to face what she had done.
“You were the Grail,” Arthur said, her voice shaking. “I destroyed the Grail. Oh Irisviel, forgive me, forgive me, I destroyed you.”
The tears came then, and she sobbed. Saber cried for her own death, and for the woman she loved, who she had destroyed with her own hands. How could Irisviel say she loved her? Irisviel’s death was on her hands, for Saber had failed to protect her.
Irisviel took Arthur’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead and her closed eyes, and she wiped away her tears with her thumbs.
“Arthur, I love you,” she said in a whisper. “I am here. I am here, do you understand? You did not kill me. Arthur, Arthur, my beloved Saber…”
As she cried, the heat in her heart and head subsided into a slight warmth that suffused throughout her whole body. When Arthur finally stopped crying, the two of them faced each other.
“It really is you,” Arthur said in wonder. “How can it be, Irisviel? The Grail was destroyed then, when I used Excalibur.”
“That’s true. My body was destroyed because my body was the vessel for the Grail to manifest… I am the Grail, but I am also Irisviel. When you destroyed the Grail, you only destroyed that part of me.”
Arthur shook her head. “Can you ever forgive me, Irisviel? I failed to protect you, and I caused you so much pain.”
Irisviel took her hand and pressed it in both of hers. “I forgave you ten years ago, Saber. Can you forgive me? For all the times I never told you I was the Grail’s vessel, for every time I lied to you?”
“There is nothing I would blame you for. Consider it forgiven, Irisviel.”
“I’m glad.” Irisviel smiled. “You are back to your old self.”
“No,” Arthur said. “We’ve changed, haven’t we? One does not pass through the gates of death unscathed.”
Irisviel looked down and bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“That is not what I mean,” Arthur said gently. “You said that I helped you find yourself. I return your words–you have helped me find myself. I had lost myself in this darkness, this corruption. You have saved me.”
“Thank you, Saber. But I’m afraid we are both still stuck here. For being a vessel of the Grail, I haven’t been able to do any good, not until you came back into the corruption…”
Arthur thought for a moment. It was true, they were still in the endless ocean. But they had stopped falling for a while now. If it was possible to stop falling, wasn’t it then possible to go up somehow? Towards the ring of light, which she was sure for some reason meant getting out.
“Irisviel, what do you know about this space? What is the corruption?”
Irisviel sighed. “In the last Holy Grail War, the Grail became corrupted before it could fully manifest. Since it was broken, the corruption remained, and I remained with it. And Zouken Matou was able to preserve a fragment of the corrupted, broken Grail and merge it into a living mage’s body.”
Arthur’s eyes widened. “I know her. Sakura.”
Irisviel nodded. “The corruption is advancing rapidly. Zouken appears to be trying to manifest the corruption itself. If the situation continues as it is, it could bring about calamity on a scale thousands of times worse than the Fire of Fuyuki ten years ago.
“As for where we are, I believe we are in the corruption itself.” Irisviel frowned. “That may be a misnomer. The corruption is not truly ‘evil,’ as it is not its own entity. It is a form of chaos, and those who fall into it find their desires and regrets amplified. That is, perhaps, what we might call becoming evil, committing sin… But the fact that we are here now means that it is a neutral space, only with the potential to be used for evil.”
“Do you know how we can get out?”
Irisviel shook her head. “If I knew, I would have gotten out years ago.”
“Oh, Irisviel…” Getting closer, Arthur clasped Irisviel in her arms and stroked her hair. “Was it hard on you, waiting all this time?”
Irisviel pressed a small kiss to her cheek. “Don’t worry about me. It was a long time, but I’m better now that you’re here.”
“We will escape,” Arthur said with determination. “If there is an entrance, there must be an exit.”
Yes, there had to be a way. If what they were floating in was the corruption itself, then didn’t they stand a chance? Before Assassin had attacked her, intending to kill her before the corruption claimed her, she had been able to push the corruption back. It had invaded her veins, her Spirit Core, but she had been able to push it back, up until she was forced to direct her attention to countering Assassin’s attack. Taking advantage of the lack of resistance, that was when the corruption had overwhelmed her.
She had fought it with pure magical power, by increasing her output until the air nearly crackled with discharged mana. If it was as simple as that, then a solution was in sight.
“Irisviel, I believe I know of a way to counter this corruption.”
Irisviel listened as Arthur recounted when the dark energy had taken over her. Her brow wrinkled as she thought.
“I see, so pure magic resists the darkness…” Irisviel said pensively. Her eyes widened. “Pure magic… The Third Magic!” She grabbed Arthur by the shoulders. “The corruption is already overflowing. If the gate opens, the Einzberns will be forced to use Illya as a catalyst for the Third Magic, Heaven’s Feel. She will be sacrificed to close the gate!” Irisviel bit her lip, anxiety written all over her face. “I had thought, because of Illya’s ‘perfect’ state, she would survive being the vessel to the Grail. But if this is how it’s going to go, I have to stop the ritual, and stop it now. But I’m not sure where to gather mana from. There is nothing here,” she said, indicated the sea around them with a sweep of her arm. “I would know. I’ve been drifting, swimming anywhere I could just looking for anything. I thought I saw other Servants, not long ago, but they must have been swallowed up or defeated already. They were gone before I could reach them.”
“Irisviel, don’t you see? It is simple. You have a source of mana right in front of you.”
Irisviel stared at her, and Arthur watched the idea register in her mind.
“Saber,” Irisviel said slowly, “you can’t be suggesting I use you.”
“Why not? If I am here, that must mean that I still exist, in some capacity, as a Servant–therefore, I am a sizeable reserve of mana. Moreover, I have some natural resistance to the corruption, and that quality would likely be passed to you if–”
“If I use you up.” Irisviel pulled away from Arthur and crossed her arms. “Is that what you mean? If I use up all your mana.”
“I do not know if there is any other choice,” Arthur said gently. “I have already died, Irisviel. That I could see you again before I go is already a great blessing. You still have Illya–”
“I’ve died, too. What are you saying?” Irisviel clenched her hands and looked at Arthur angrily. “You aren’t going to throw your life away just when we’ve found each other again, are you?”
“My role is over already… it was over a long time ago. I do not need another life. ”
“You may not need it, but I need you!” Irisviel cried out.
Irisviel wrapped her arms around herself, and she trembled. Arthur reached out, but Irisviel brushed her hand away.
“I need you, Saber,” she said tightly.
“I know. But Illya needs you more, and she needs you now. If you do not go, the corrupted Grail will soon be complete.”
Irisviel let out a shaky laugh. “You’re not being fair, Saber.”
“Irisviel…”
“I know. No time, right?” Irisviel wiped a few tears away, and the droplets floated away slowly into the darkness around them. “I’ll do it, Saber. I’ll ascend through this corruption and stop the Holy Grail War.”
Satisfaction clashed with fear in Arthur’s heart. She was no longer a stranger to death, nor the odd feeling of fading away that came with being a Servant drained of mana. To end here, in the darkness, made her insides twist with anxiety, but if it was with Irisviel, if it was for Irisviel, she felt that it would be alright.
“Give me your hand,” Irisviel said, holding out her hand. “Mana transfer is best done through physical contact.”
As Arthur took hold of Irisviel’s hand, she noticed that her sleeve, her dress had settled into an iridescent shade somewhere between blue and dark, almost-black purple. Irisviel laced her fingers in Arthur’s, and she looked at Arthur with a faint expression of surprise.
“Your clothes… and your eyes… There’s a lot you haven’t told me yet,” she murmured, pulling Arthur closer.
As Irisviel’s hand found a place at the small of Arthur’s back, Arthur became aware of the mana transfer as a physical sensation, as of her energy draining away from her hand, where Irisviel touched her. She looked up and found that the two of them had been drawn closer to the ring of light; it was working, and working fast.
“Arthur.” Arthur looked back at Irisviel, who looked at her with a soft expression. “Can I kiss you?”
“Would it make the mana transfer faster?” Arthur asked as the strength slowly stole away from her limbs.
“Yes. But that’s not why I want to. Can I?”
Her vision was starting to blur. She nodded to Irisviel, and with gentle fingers on her neck, still squeezing her hand, Irisviel kissed her slowly, with care. Her lips were soft and a little cold, and Arthur tried not to think about how much she would miss her, how much she was already regretting their coming separation. Irisviel’s fingers stroked her neck and tangled into her hair, and Arthur was trying to memorize the sensations–only, her body seemed to be going numb so quickly, and there was no time at all. Her mana, what was left of her Spirit Core, diminished steadily.
We may never see each other again. As Irisviel kissed her, breath hot against her skin, Arthur repeated the words in her mind, as if pressing on a bruise or wound. Is this how it ends? But even though the thought hurt, a feeling of peace came over her. With her fading consciousness, the thoughts quieted, and then there was only her and Irisviel, and that was the only thing that mattered, anyway. If it’s for her, I don’t mind… They were nearing the end. In just a few more seconds, her mana would be depleted, and Irisviel would go on without her…
Suddenly she felt pressure on her shoulders. Arthur’s eyes shot open as Irisviel pushed her away. Briefly, she spun in the ocean of corruption before orienting herself toward Irisviel, above her.
“Irisviel?” she said faintly, unable to summon the strength to try to go to her.
“You are an idiot,” Irisviel said plainly, and with a note of triumph in her voice. “You’ve already given me more than enough mana.” As she spoke, she floated higher, ever closer to the ring of light. “I can’t take you with me, Saber, but I’m going to come back for you. Do you hear me? Stay here and wait for me! When I take care of the Grail, I’ll find a way back to you. And when I bring you out, you’d better be ready for a scolding! I won’t forgive you for trying to die and leave me behind.”
Arthur smiled and closed her eyes. “Very well. I hear you, Irisviel,” she said. “I will wait.”
Arthur was sinking now, without the extra mana to buoy her up. As the distance increased, it became harder to hear Irisviel.
“Don’t forget yourself again!” Irisviel called down to her. “Remember yourself. Remember me. As long as you hang on, I’ll come find you. Wait for me, Saber. Wait for me, Arthur…!”
The last echo of her voice faded, and with it, the warmth that had come from being next to Irisviel. But this time, Arthur held fast against the encroachment of the cold.
“You waited for me for ten years,” she whispered into the emptiness. “I can wait even longer if that is what it takes.”
As she sank in the timeless void, she thought back to Irisviel, from when they first met to their parting in the last Holy Grail War. With these memories, she would keep herself together until Irisviel came back for her.
“Irisviel, oh Irisviel…”
I love you, were the words she left unspoken. They were better saved for their reunion. Could she really hope for this future? Could she, past king, present knight and ghost, move into a future which was not truly hers? Arthur had been willing to give up everything for Irisviel just a moment ago, but to her own surprise, a determination flared up within her. She could give up everything–except for her future with Irisviel. To that, she would cling until it became a reality.
The darkness did not bother her now, and neither did the cold. She had a reason to live, one apart from her once-wish to save Britain. There were so many things she wanted to tell Irisviel, and so many things she wanted to hear from her. Arthur clasped her hands together across her abdomen and faced the ring of light. If that ring was a gate to her future, she knew it didn’t matter how far she sank. She would find it again, and Irisviel would reach out her hand to her, and they would cross together.