...
Monica opened her eyes to a familiar sight: a sea of gold that glittered like the night sky. In spite of herself, she felt no panic, in part because she almost didn't recognize her surroundings. The sea that had been so chaotic before was now calm- not still, but calm. In her first visit, the sea was utterly tranquil, more like an undisturbed pond or bath than a true ocean. The second visit found it as a complete typhoon, a sea so powerful and corrupt that it nearly killed her. Now- now it was something between the two. She wasn't drifting through the water or being pulled to its icy depths, she was floating along a gentle current, the waves above massaging her chest and back with the pressure they imparted.
She wasn't scared, and neither was she surprised. No- more than anything else- she was curious: curious to see what had become of this place since she'd closed those cursed doors, and curious to see the consequences of her actions.
And so she pushed through the gentle waves to the surface, taking a deep breath- of clean, fresh, if slightly salty air. The sky was a beautiful shade of brilliant blue, the distant horizon touched with citrus orange like a sunrise too fantastical to ever exist in reality.
She silently wondered when she had last watched a sunrise.
But these thoughts were dwarfed by her desire to see that island, and, sure enough, there it was- far but not too far away. Under the light of the sapphire sky, the columns that decorated the island were each a lighthouse in and of themselves, their white-ivory reflecting the morning glow even over the shine of the golden sea. A light among light: her destination.
The swim to that island, though exhausting before, was more relaxing than anything else, and there were times when she could almost swear that the current was pushing her along to that island- it wasn't until she reached the bank that she began to feel anxious. Standing on the white-sand seafloor, her head and shoulders exposed to the crisp morning air, she remembered that she was naked.
Her previous foray to the shore was so rushed and desperate that she hardly considered her own nakedness for more than a moment; that environment was too harsh for anyone to live in, and there was almost certainly no one around. It was doubtful that she could even be seen through the thick rain and smog, and she had a damned good reason to be there besides that.
Here, that wasn't so. Whether it was someone on the island itself or on a boat nearby, she had neither cover nor excuse except that she assumed she was alone, and even then, how much of an excuse was that? These worries in mind, she scanned the island carefully, looking for any signs of inhabitants at all, and found none. No hut nor hovel, no circles in the sand, no sign of life at all except those columns- and even they, with their brilliance, had been eaten away at by the elements for what could only be a substantial period of time- decades if not centuries.
Anxiety and anger built pressure in her chest until finally escaping as a single, heartfelt sigh. Not because she couldn't decide what to do, but because her curiosity had already made the decision for her. And so, with as much faux confidence as she could muster, she waltzed out of the water and onto the banks, doing her very best to look like she belonged there even with no one around. But as the water fell from her body, it clung there, not to pull her back in, but to let her pull it away. The sea water that flowed off her body became still and opaque, before finally settling into what appeared to be silk, covering her body with a brilliant, golden gown.
Lost in awe, she spun and danced like a girl half her age, allowing the hems of the dress to skip across the white sand and gravel while she examined it with her eyes and body- the way it caressed her skin as she danced.
Being from a more wealthy family, she was no stranger to extravagance, especially in dress, but whereas the dresses her mother had often forced on her were so lavish that they could only be considered tacky, this dress was gorgeous in its understated modesty. Cut from a single cloth, its beauty came from the material it was made of and in the way it twirled around and fell from her figure. Tight in all the right places, but not so tight as to be restrictive, it clung to her body perfectly, even causing her to look slightly more adult with the way it hung just off her shoulders. In her mind, it was the pinnacle of beauty, and she couldn't bring herself to look away, or to do anything except wonder what she'd done to deserve something so perfect.
"Huh. So you're the one?"
"Gah!"
Brought suddenly from her trance, she squealed and stumbled back, her bare feet splashing into the rising tide.
Before her was a boy she didn't recognize. With a mop of auburn hair and a face handsome if not somewhat like a weasel, he wore a black cloak that wrapped around his body like a shadow, his hand emerging from the darkness to caress his chin while he examined her with gold-green copper eyes. His face bore a whimsical smirk, but even in her shocked state she could make out a certain intelligence behind them- even a certain cruelty, as if he were looking right through her.
"You know, I would've sworn he swung the other way, but -hey- I won't complain."
"Wh-Wha? Who are you? What are you doing here?"
His smirk fell as he raised an eyebrow, "What am I doing here? This is my island. I'm supposed to be here."
"Your island?"
He gestured to the rocks around and behind him, "Do you see anyone else here? No one else claimed it, so I did. Now it's mine, and that means you're trespassing. So, if I may, what are you doing here?"
"I- I, uh..." She didn't have an answer. She had no excuse, and she wasn't prepared for such a sudden interrogation, "I honestly don't know. I don't know why I keep being brought here."
" 'Being brought here'? No one brought you here. You brought yourself, although it's true that the door was left open for you."
Though she couldn't make heads or tails of what he said, it somehow made sense to her at the same time, and, instead of asking for clarification, another question rose to her mind as she narrowed her brow:
"Who are you?"
He flashed a grin before slinking back into a half-bow, his hand crossing his chest, "I, dear lady, am hardly more than a fragment of a memory: a dream once had but never forgotten." His copper eyes gleamed in the morning light, "I suppose you could call me a friend of a friend, but, more than that, I'm the guardian of this place. So, then, who are you?"
'Friend of a friend.'
'Guardian of this place.'
It occurred to her that this was more serious than she'd first thought. She glanced briefly at the stone doors atop the hill behind him, still sealed shut, before returning to a cold gaze made all the more frightening by a warm smile.
"I'm Monica. It's... a pleasure to meet you."
He closed his eyes and slowly shook his head, "I didn't ask you what your name was, Monica, I asked who you were."
It took a moment for her to process the seemingly nonsensical statement before it became clear. Detecting the subtle but welcome attempts at levity, she allowed herself a smile to match his, genuinely hoping to be in his good graces.
"I'm Saber's Master, but..." The words got caught in her throat before the weight of the situation pushed them free, "...I'm also his friend. At least he's a friend to me."
The metal gleam of the boy's eyes gave way to something softer, "Good. Then there may be hope for you."
Fear turned in her belly, "Hope? I- is something wrong?"
The copper hardened into steely daggers as his expression fell into a piercing scowl, "Don't tell me you really thought that you solved the problem already? It didn't occur to you that it was all too easy?"
The boy's mocking tone sparked indignation in her belly, "'Easy'? There are lots of words that I could use to describe the last few days, but 'easy' isn't one of them."
The boy slapped his palm against his forehead in frustration, "Gods, is it really you? How the Hell are you going to help anything?"
Fear mixed with anger and confusion in her throat as she trudged up to him and shouted back, "What are you talking about!? Is something wrong?-
"...Did I do something wrong?"
It didn't make sense to her. Everything was as it should've been, right? The sky was blue, the sea was healthy and calm, the stone doors were shut; what else was there to do? 'The problem' had been resolved, and it had been resolved on the back of her blood, sweat, tears and puke. Of course, how could this 'friend of a friend' ever understand that? After all, he wasn't there. He didn't see what she saw.
Distracted by excuses that she made to herself, she was caught off guard when the boy seized her arm and pulled it up towards his head for them both to see; to see the Command Seals that laid there. The snake was there, but the Command Seals she'd used had seemingly returned, and sat on her arm in a shade of sickly black.
"You didn't solve the problem, Monica: you prolonged it."
With his other hand, he gestured to the stone doors atop the hill behind him, "The problem remains; all you've done is cover it up. Things have improved for the time being, but, if you don't do something more, then what little you've done will have amounted to nothing at all. But then, you want that, don't you? You'd love to be able to pack your bags and go home, even when you know that you're the only one who could make a change."
The conflicted emotions turned and topped over one another in her heart, no single thought prevailing over the rest to reach her lips. Instead, she could only pull back at her wrist, trying desperately, like an animal in a trap, to break free of his vice-grip. She couldn't- he was stronger than her by an order of magnitudes, stronger than even Chrysaor- but that didn't stop him from letting go. Unprepared for the sudden loss of tension, she fell back before her heel caught itself in the soft sand and sent her toppling into the tide pool.
She pulled the cloth gown close to her chest, doing everything in her power to keep as much from the sea as she could, before turning back to the weasel-faced boy with a snarl unbefitting the elegance of her dress.
"And what do you know!? Haven't I done enough?! I've put my life on the line more than once for him, and what have you been doing- sitting here on your ass?! How come you don't do anything?-"
The words almost didn't come out, something inside her didn't want them to, but she said them regardless- though it came as hardly more than a pitiful squeak compared to her previous roar, "Why does it have to be me?"
The boy -the guardian- did not scowl... he smiled, but the same was not true of his eyes. As the white of his teeth caught the morning sun, the light in his eyes fell away until only the cold, hard, copper remained.
"There are two requirements to solve a problem, you see- any problem. First is the ability to solve it, and second is the willingness to try. I don't have the ability to solve this problem, and, if I did, you wouldn't be here in the first place- neither he nor I would need you in the slightest. Be thankful that I've decided to help you at all. I could have sat by and watched you squander what time and opportunity you've been given. I could have let you squirm and writhe in your selfish indecision, but, unfortunately, I have too much of a heart for the poor man to let him indebt himself to someone so dishonest and ungrateful as you."
His smile softened, his eyes as cold as ever, if slightly more sober, "He's far too kind to hold you accountable, and so I've taken it upon myself to make sure that you take responsibility for what you've done- instead of running away as you surely would otherwise."
At first, she was sad. Darkness clouded her mind and her heart plunged into the depths of a cold, cold, lonely sea. Any amount of confidence she'd gained from her time with the boy who called her his Master washed away to nothing. She was no Master, she was no leader, she was no saint, and, most of all, she was nobody. A lonely girl on an empty beach while the rest of the world slept, paying her no mind at all- precisely as she wanted it.
-As she thought she had wanted it.
She could no longer bear to look at the guardian wrapped in shadow- the friend of a friend. Rather, her gaze fell to the waves that lapped against her legs as tears she hadn't noticed fell from her face and mixed with the salt of the sea. Her face became flushed with embarrassment and distress, until the red warmth of her cheeks grew into fire that stoked her heart, and the darkness that turned inside her transformed from shadow into ash. In her rage, puzzle pieces began to fit into place as assumptions, assumptions too wild to make in a right mind, came to make sense of it all and painted a picture colored black.
Her voice croaked, always threatening to crack along its seams, "I run away? You're the one who abandoned him in the first place! Why don't you 'take responsibility', huh? He wouldn't be in this mess if not for you!"
He didn't so much as flinch, much less hesitate, "Words spoken in ignorance have no power, Monica, which is why I'm standing while you're on your knees. You just don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?!" She stood with shaking knees, water dripping off her body, and began a slow, painful stomp towards him, "You left him! What right do you have to try and force me to deal with the problem you created?! You-"
Faster than the blink of an eye, the boy's hand flew from underneath his cloak- a short-sword in hand and under her chin, pressing her back into the sea. His fake smile was no more, "My 'right' stems from the fact that I'm right, Master. I've already paid my dues, as much as a memory can; you are the one who's yet to take responsibility."
Finally, she could only scream, "Take responsibility for what?!"
"For coming here in the first place."
She froze.
"You had the chance to walk away, but you didn't. You pressed deeper and deeper, farther and farther, and now you want to run- like you always run- without ever even saying goodbye. But then- maybe that's for the best. If you refuse to care for him, if all you ever do is poke and prod at his heart without ever offering your own, then he really is better off without you- that's what I think."
Her lips began to tremble; all her worst insecurities brought before the morning light. She always knew he was better off without her; she knew it from the start. She could never be what he needed, she could never truly help him, she was just too selfish to admit it. Besides-
"I didn't ask for this."
He slung his sword to the earth, nearly cutting her throat, imbedding it in the nearby sand. He pulled her close by the collar with his other hand,
"Yes-
"-You-
"-Did."
Tears began to stream down her face. It took all her energy to keep from breaking into sobs.
He looked away from her, "But then, he asked for it too... and that's the worst part."
Before she could scream, or cry, or shout, he shoved her with all the strength of a catapult, sending her flying, flailing through the air- until finally crashing back into the golden depths, her eyes catching only a glimpse of that sad shadow before the glittering sea rushed over her face.
...
Monica sat up in her bed with a start, but, before she could react to her rasping, gasping breath, or to the tears that stained her face and sheets while she slept, she saw him: Chrysaor. He sat on her desk and watched her with eyes aglow in surprise, but not so aglow as to hide the shadows within-
"Monica... I need you to tell me...
"-What did you do?"
....