(A/N: Can someone be a brother and post the character pictures in the para comments? I'm busy writing. This is a scheduled update.)
"You have until sunset to choose."
Those were the words the legendary King Arthur, incarnation of the Welsh Dragon and King of Knights left for the strongest under her, the glorious and respected Knights of the Round Table before turning to leave, walking away with a certain 'lack of life' yet inhuman grace in her steps.
She looked far older than what her knights were used to, donning fine, resplendent armour. Her golden hair fell down to her back and stoic golden eyes had curiously eyed their behaviour.
The King carried an air of superiority, as if she existed in a realm beyond theirs and for the most part, they were used to this.
An emotionless King devoid of greed had been what they'd served all their lives.
But, some of them wondered,
Had she truly felt as disconnected as she did now back then?
The King of Knights halted in her footsteps, prompting a halt in their thoughts, and glanced back from the corner of her eye, "I am certain that you at least, will remain by my side."
Most of them didn't know whom she was referring to, the few that did chose to remain silent.
What she had suggested was simply preposterous.
Humanity was coming to an end, a being beyond what they could combat had set it's sights upon them and was almost done with seeing them undone.
The wandering, emotionless King of a Britain long gone who couldn't rest for Excalibur wasn't returned to the fae had found herself in this strange land where deserts were the only thing in sight in each possible direction. The Sun burned bright, it's heat unforgiving and the nights were terribly cold.
It lacked resources, water was nowhere in sight, the masses went hungry and there was no rain.
Different peoples warred over a city that had already been destroyed and that was not all, humanity was coming to an end.
By making use of the spear Rhongomyniad, a weapon she had acquired in the later half of her life that 'anchored the world', she sought to preserve individuals that met a certain criteria much like data.
In this way, humanity would be preserved.
It was a course of action that portrayed a distinct lack of soul or emotion, something a 'human' simply wouldn't consider.
It was understandable then that several Knights of the Round Table professed their disagreement with such a plan, being knights of honour who united under King Arthur's banner to liberate the people from their suffering.
Aside from Sir Galahad and Sir Bedivere, all knights had been summoned as servants.
From the cheating Lancelot, to Gawain who stopped him from helping the King at Camlann, to the Knight of Betrayal himself, Mordred.
"You can not possibly mean to declare allegiance to-"
"Hold your tongue, you speak of our King."
"THAT is not our King!"
"Is your loyalty so brittle that you would think of treachery again?!"
"How fucking dare you?"
It didn't matter who spoke, the words uttered clearly conveyed the divide between what had once been a closely knit group of comrades, brothers in arms.
And it made sense.
Obeying their King would spit on all they aspired to be, in saving the few, they would abandon the many. Leave innocent folks who had done no wrong to suffer at the hands of something they had no control over, leave children with their whole lives ahead of them to die unfairly.
How could they commit such atrocity?
Metal shinged as weapons were immediately drawn, by those who would cut down the traitors and those who saw the former's actions as wrongful.
As much as it pained them to do such a thing, it was necessary.
Surprising all however, a solitary interaction between two of their brethren brought their conflict to a halt.
"I am.. sorry."
"E-Eh?!"
The Knight of Atrocity, a man who showed little in the way of emotion other than a gentle smile and calm demeanour, lowered his head in apology, guilt and shame lacing his words, "I, could not protect you."
"No, no! It's alright!" The one he spoke to, Gareth frantically shook her head, waving her hands about in alarm as her green eyes erratically looked around, conveying her panic, "Awawaawa, what do I do?!? Brother, help meee! W-Why is Lord Aston bowing to me?!" Even her green bangs flailed around.
"I should have been able to pro-"
It is to be understood that Gareth, bubbly and innocent as she was most of the time, respected her teacher far too much to cut off his words, but somehow, this time it felt right, finding herself suddenly calm, she spoke with a bright smile, "Um, it's alright, we've met again haven't we?"
But well, ashamed as she was, Gareth admitted it was kind of nice to know he'd been moved enough that his gentle exterior broke, even if she could never even enter the knight's eyes, she would always adore the compassionate knight who sacrificed himself for the people and taught her all she knew.
"I'm really happy to see you again!" Ignoring her own turmoil, she tried to cheer him up.
"I am, as well." As if her smile were infectious, Aston was quick to recollect himself, rising back to his full height. He momentarily stared at his armoured palm, clenching and unclenching his fist several times.
Gareth was brave and faithful, reminded one of a puppy.
This time, those who sought to harm her would have to go over his cold corpse to do so.
He had a job to do right now though.
"Who do you intend to side with?" He asked plainly, holding out his left hand as his jagged spear manifested in his grip and turned to face the knights who had drawn their weapons; they had been given an order by their King, "I request that those who disagree, leave."
Reality set in and Gareth lowered her head, suddenly finding herself at a loss for words. If King Arthur himself thought this the best way, then that meant they really didn't have a chance otherwise right?
Though, once she raised her and her gaze settled on the back of the man she admired more than anyone in the whole wide world, Gareth found her answer,
"I'll follow you." Always.
He would definitely find a way.
And like that, the chances of success for those that didn't approve were lowered drastically.
Gawain's golden hair shined brilliantly under the Sun's penetrating rays as a smile crossed his face and he clenched Excalibur Galatine, a sword that carried the radiance of a star, in his arms, feeling his strength growing and growing as the Sun climbed higher into the sky, "A good decision, it seems I was foolish to consider you would go against our king."
"You're realising that just now?" Aston tilted his head, genuinely confused, "When have you not been foolish?"
Gawain ignored the insult thrown his way, only shrugging in response before he raised his sword to the sky, "I shall aid you in striking down these detestable traitors." Even when he said that, his regret was evident.
All of them had once been comrades.
"Hey Aston, doesn't this feel wrong?" Kay scratched the back of his head, his expression one of lamenting and regret, "Did that feel like the King to you?" He asked rhetorically, refusing to believe that Aston, whose tongue was maybe on par with his own, could miss such a thing.
"I insist that you leave, or surrender." Aston pursed his lips, he didn't want to fight, much less kill his comrades. He would make Artoria see reason, and for that, allying with her was necessary, "I do not wish to have even your blood on my hands."
But then again, if it was necessary, he would do it.
Aston had already done much that he disliked, what was one more addition to his long list of his questionable 'regrets'.
"You know we can't do that, you know that better than these idiots." Kay sighed, putting a hand on the hilt of his sword, he really didn't want to fight these people, "They lack here..." He tapped the side of his head, "You don't."
Tristan drew Failnaught, a pristine, white bow with multiple protrusions that worked with the strings of his favourite harp, using air vacuums as weapons instead of actual arrows, and sighed deeply, his eyes closed as he raised his head, "How regretful, must I be pit against my own comrades?"
If their emotionless King had made this choice, given many of them a second chance even after their betrayals, how could there be any other way of saving humanity?
The Knight of Betrayal, Mordred, clenched her fists, too ashamed to raise her head despite the fact that her 'father' had offered her a second chance, "W..Why?" She spoke distantly, her expression masked by her horned helmet.
Why wouldn't her teach look her way?
Had she lost even his acknowledgement in her betrayal?
"....Aston."
A certain knight regretfully looked at the man he believed his brother.
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