-Micheals PoV-
"Just fucking pick one and let me beat your ass already." Jeanne groused from her spot by the door as Micheal gave her an annoyed look to which she responded by flipping him off and going back to her book. They were in the armory of the Pendragon estate for a few reasons and as he wrapped his hand around one sword and lifted it he immediately frowned at the feel of it in his hand. He put it back on the rack and did his best to ignore the annoyed huff from his former Servant causing him to give her a flat look,
"Not all of us can have a weapon intrinsically tied to ourselves like you with your sword."
"Except the real Jeanne D'Arc never fucking drew it in battle as far as I can remember and the one from my Singularity always fought with Holy energy and her flag so it might as well have been ornamental for her," she said summoning her own version of the sword into her hand in a flash of blackened flames. Micheal watched her weigh it in her hand and drag a finger down the flat of the darkened steel blade before she frowned and looked at him, "Why are you even going for English blades when you're french?"
"As has been made abundantly clear from Eleanor: By what Morgan told you in your… not memory of her and the fact that my mother is British with a direct line to the Mayrics I am effectively more of an heir to the throne of England than Alison is despite her being a mirror match for Artoria. As such, according both Eleanor AND my mother, I need to learn how to wield a blade. The only reason I'm going for English blades is because we're already here and who knows, maybe I'll awaken to some Pendragon bladework or something."
He wrapped his hand around another sword and immediately let go, rubbing his hand on his shirt at the feeling of the leather in his palm. Jeanne groaned and put away her sword before she hopped off the box she was sitting on,
"Its not that fucking hard. English, French, Japanese. Who the hell cares. Just pick a blade and be done with it. I'm gonna walk for a bit."
Micheal hummed in response to this and waited a couple seconds after she left before he stopped what he was doing. Glancing over his shoulder at the partially closed door he held out his right hand and closed his eyes to focus on the mental image that Carnwennen had given him while he was in the Pendragon vault. The moment that Eleanor had opened the case Micheal had felt the blade… reach out to him. Not with the intent to form a contract but rather it felt like it was trying to give him something.
He then felt his connection with Blessed Hellfire briefly extend to Carnwennen and the blade sent two images to him.
One of a pitch black rapier with white runes on the blade along with intricate red and gold ornamentation for the handguard along with what looked like a giant perfume bottle colored the same way as the blade. The second image was less clear, as though it was taken in a rush before the cameraman had time to focus the lens. It showed two people, one shorter than the other and with rich blonde hair, while the taller one seemed to be even more out of focus than the rest of the image but he could make out what looked like a black dress along with the taller person holding out their arm towards the shorter person.
He knew now that Carnwennen had been trying to warn him about the Darkened Artoria possessing Alison but as he picked another blade at random from the rack only to put it back he frowned and took a step back from the wall. He held out his hand and summoned Blessed Hellfire into it where it landed into his open palm easily enough. He curled his fingers around the grip and looked at it, turning it over in his hand, then focused on the feeling of Fusil remembering how he swapped between the forms he had gotten so far which he did via focusing on the feeling and sensation each gave him.
Both were 'Blessed Hellfire' but they had, for lack of a better word, different flavors and flavor profiles with the Pistol form being something he would consider the 'standard' or 'baseline' flavor. Something like vanilla or the taste of freshly baked bread or similar. Something that, on its own is delicious yes, but is very normal and usually without Seasonings or additions.
For Fusil if he had to assign a flavor profile to it the first thing that came to mind was seafood, specifically grilled tuna. He had no real idea why he thought of Fusil in that way but as he focused on the flavor of grilled tuna the pistol glowed and changed into the rifle form. He gripped it in both hands and looked at it critically noting all the usual things about it. Frowning he pulled the image of the sword to the front of his mind and tried to press it onto Fusil only for nothing to happen.
"Should have known that wouldn't work…"
He muttered to himself as he put away his Divine Construct and decided to follow Jeannes example and go for a walk as well if only to clear his head or at least try to organize his thoughts. As he walked through the halls, not really caring where he was going, he eventually stopped in front of a set of oak doors just like any of the others in the estate. He looked around a bit and had just wrapped his hand around the handle when,
"Did you not find a blade Micheal?" Artoria said as she rounded the corner. He pulled his hand back, feeling like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't and then had the thought that he might as well ask the woman who had wielded Carnwennen herself,
"Nope. I do have questions though. About the weapons you used while you were alive. You wielded three weapons as King Arthur correct?"
Artoria nodded,
"As King Arthur? Yes. Excalibur, Rhongomyniad, and Carnwennen but I was trained to at least competency in every form of weapon we had at the time. Why?"
She tilted her head to the side as he tried to figure out how best to describe what had happened
"Did Carnwennen or any of them...ever try to- 'talk' is the wrong way to descibe it..." Micheal blew out his cheeks and tilted his head back trying to think how best to explain,
"Did they ever send images as if trying to tell me something?"
Micheal snapped his head down to look at Artoria who was smiling at him,
"Only when I had bonded with them enough that they felt that they could and even then it was only Excalibur. Why?"
"Because Carnwennen showed me something while I was in the vault but didn't try to forge a contract."
Her eyebrows shot up,
"It never did anything of the sort for me. What did it show you?"
Micheal hesitated and then had an idea,
"Amelia and Eleanor might be interested in seeing this… and it would be easier to project than it would be to describe. Do you know where they are?"
Artoria nodded smiling a bit uneasily,
"In the kitchen arguing the finer points of whipped cream."
Micheal gestured for her to lead the way and fell into step beside her. He glanced down at the top of her head,
"Going to be completely honest with you Artoria. It's still really fucking weird that you're in a seven year olds body."
She grimaced and sighed,
"Alison for her part seems to be thrilled about it. Even more so now that she knows she'll look like me as she grows up."
They fell into silence until they reached the kitchen where they both heard raised voices. Micheal looked at Artoria who had firmed her lips and moved to open the doors. She opened them and both heard his mother yelling,
"-and I'm saying its heresy to NOT put it on pastries and drinks. What the hell else would you even use it for!?"
"well I've stated multiple times now that whipped cream, entirely on its own and everywhere else, is crap!!"
Micheal walked in to find both women glaring at the other,
"You two just started talking again. Are you really about to throw all of that out of the way over whipped cream?"
They both winced and looked at him guiltily as Artoria coughed and got their attention,
"Eleanor. Amelia. Is there something that Micheal could draw or project with?"
Eleanor paused as Amelia turned her head and looked at her sister who was thinking,
"We have painting supplies in one of the art rooms. What did you need?"
"I wanted to try infusing some paint with a bit of mana and then use that to paint an image with."
He said as his Mother chuckled causing him to look at her,
"This is a variation of the inkblot spell you've come up with on your own isn't it?"
He grinned and rubbed the back of his neck,
"Guilty as charged. I figured out how to do it but just never tried before now."
Eleanor waved for them to follow her and they eventually found themselves inside an art studio.
"Everything you'd need is over there." Eleanor said pointing at some buckets while Amelia got a blank canvas set up. Micheal got the paint buckets of the colors he needed, drew in mana, put the mana into the paint itself, and when he felt like he had enough began lifting the paint in thin strands.
After an hour and a half, during which Amelia had gotten her own canvas set up to try and paint a vase of flowers, he was sweating profusely,
"That was… the first time I've…. done a prolonged spell… since I lost my circuits…."
He wheezed he finished the final stroke of gold before staggering over to a nearby chair and turning around to fall back into it as Amelia, Eleanor, and Artoria walked over to the now painted canvas. Huffing a bit Artoria quickly got a step stool and came back to be able to look at it properly before studying it for a minute,
"Carnwennen… gave you this image. The image of this blade." Artoria said turning around to look at him her brow furrowed.
"Yeah… No Idea what it is though…" He panted.
"I do." Amelia said softly, "I know exactly what it is…."
They all looked at her as her gaze tightened,
"Its name is Murgleis…. The Death Brand Sword of Ganelon, Arch Enemy of Roland and Traitor to Charlemagne."
Tension filled the room as they all looked at the painting that Micheal had painted with apprehension instead of curiosity. It was Eleanor who broke the silence first,
"Why would…"
She turned to look at Artoria who had folded her arms and was clearly thinking. She caught Eleanors gaze and then looked past her at Amelia who seemed physically pained.
"I don't know why Carnwennen would have sent this image to Micheal nor why it would even know about it in the first place. As for Murgleis itself…"
She turned back to look at the image and then at Amelia,
"Amelia. I'm afraid Charlemagne came after my time but you make it sound like this blade is… or rather its wielder, was evil."
Amelia nodded and turned away from the image of Murgleis to look at her son as she folded her arms,
"There's a reason for that. Micheal."
He looked up at her and felt a lead weight settle into his gut at the look she was giving him,
"I just spent over an hour doing continuous magecraft with no circuits. You can't seriously expect me to recount the entirety of the Song of Roland right now."
She smiled evilly,
"Good. You already know what to do and where to start. Come on, I at least want coffee and snacks before you regale us with the Chanson de Roland."
He groaned and got out of the chair glancing at Eleanor realizing he didn't have a way out of this,
"This is going to be lot of talking and movement so something we can all eat and something for me to drink would be excellent. Also a space big enough to… do this in."
She nodded and then grinned at her sister,
"Once we stop by the kitchen to get refreshments I'll take you all to the theater. Oh, Would Jeanne be interested? She is French afterall."
Amelia tapped her chin and then gave Micheal a look that immediately filled him with dread,
"She should be interested… yes."
He groaned and realized that this was quickly turning into an entire thing as Eleanor led them out of the art room while calling out for his former Servant.
~~~~~~~~
"So wait. Micheals going to perform the Chanson de Roland? Since when the hell could he act?"
Micheal glowered at the women sitting in the front row from where he was sitting just to the right of the stage and briefly wished Desmond was here only to immediately squash that same wish knowing how intense the man was when it came to theater. Amelia nodded and grinned at him like a predator looking at its next meal,
"The Lafaires history is intertwined with the history of the Arts in France. They go hand in hand. So yes he at least knows how to tell a story with flair."
He fixed his mother with a glare as she just smirked at him,
"Although to be honest all those lessons really left him with was a flair for the dramatic."
"Now THAT I believe."
Jeanne cackled from her seat in the room as Micheal mentally went back over the script for the story that he had memorized to try and find the parts where Ganelon appeared. He looked back out at the other people in the theater and decided against doing just the trial and Ganelons death instead choosing to show off a little,
'Tell a story with flair' was it mom? Alright then.
Lets do this…
He knew roughly where he was supposed to position himself to start and he quickly took a drink of water from the water bottle he had gotten before he climbed the stairs and walked onto the stage. Eleanor, Amelia, Jeanne, and Artoria all fell silent and waited for him to start as he closed his eyes and inhaled a breath,
"Charles the king, our great emperor, has been in Spain for seven
full years; he has conquered all the upland right down to the seashore
and not a castle can stand before him; neither wall nor city remains to be
destroyed except Saragossa, which is built in a mountain. King Marsilie
rules in Saragossa; he does not love God, he worships Mahomet and calls
upon Apollin. He has no protection against all the evil which is about to
come upon him..."
As he spoke and retold the Song of Roland he moved around on the stage making grandiose movements to show the various characters within the tale. At some point someone had flicked on the stage lights causing him to blink as he was briefly blinded but he didn't stop or falter instead moving to the next verse,
"…Grandoine was a good and valiant knight, a fair and courageous
fighter. He has met Roland in the middle of his path. He has never seen
him before, but he recognizes him by his proud countenance and noble
form, by his look and by his gait. He cannot help being filled with fear.
He tries to fly but it is useless; the count has struck him with such force
that he has split his helmet as far as the nose-piece; he has cut through his
nose, his mouth and his teeth, his whole body with its mailed hauberk,
the two silver sides of his gilded saddle, and the horse's back right
deeply. He has killed both horse and rider without hope of recovery,
and the Spaniards cry out in their grief. But the French say: "How well
our protector strikes!"…."
Micheal had been going for well over two and a half hours when Amelia finally called a break for him to get some water and he staggered to the side of the stage only to pause as he sensed something different within himself. As he slowly drank the rest of his first bottle and opened a second he examined what was changed and paused drinking to close his eyes and focus properly. He followed the feeling to the spot within him where his contract with Blessed Hellfire was and noted something was changing about it. Extending out from the central point were the two forms he already had. They were connected by a mix of mana, holy energy, and hellfire and represented the base form and Fusil but he noticed a third connection slowly forming that he couldn't tell the nature of.
He opened his eyes and summoned Blessed Hellfire into his hand to look at it,
"Everything okay Micheal?"
He looked up to see Jeanne had come over looking worried as she glanced between the pistol and him. He smiled and put away the construct as he sipped his water while arching his eyebrows at her,
"Yup. Just… wanted to check something with Blessed Hellfire is all. What do you think so far?"
She paused briefly but nodded and grinned at him,
"Your mom undersold you to be honest. Its been great both watching and hearing all of this."
He finished his second bottle and quickly tossed it into the trash,
"With any luck this particular retelling will be a bit more… spectacular than the normal one. Let me rest another minute or two and then I'll get back up there. If my memory is correct I'm about halfway to the part I think I need to get to."
She furrowed her brow about to ask what he meant when he waved her off. She pouted at him but turned around to walk back to her seat where she sat down with a huff only for Amelia to lean over and say something to her that made her blush and clamp her mouth shut. After another minute he got back up onto the stage and walked to where he had been before Amelia had called the break,
"All of us ready to keep going?"
They all nodded and Micheal closed his eyes as he scanned through his memory to where he had stopped. He moved to the spot and adopted the stance he had been in before as he continued speaking but as he got to and spoke of the death of Roland he kept an eye on that third spoke that was slowly but steadily forming,
"...Count Roland has laid himself down beneath a pine tree and has
turned his face towards Spain. He began to call many things to mind: the
many lands he had conquered, sweet France, and the men of his lineage,
and Charlemaine, his lord, who nurtured him. He cannot restrain himself
from weeping and sighing, but he is not forgetful of himself; he confesses
himself and prays God for his mercy: "O true Father, who didst never
lie, thou who didst raise St. Lazarus from the dead and save Daniel from
the lions, save my soul from all the perils that beset it on account of the
sins which I have committed in my life." He held out his right glove to
God, and St. Gabriel took it from his hand. His head was resting on his
arm and his hands were clasped, and thus he went to his end. God sent
down his angel Cherubin and St. Michel du Peril; with them came St.
Gabriel, and they carry the soul of the count to Paradise….."
With the death of Roland spoken Micheal felt that third spoke begin to pulse with mana, holy energy, and hellfire as he grinned while his voice became stronger.
Just a bit more….
He kept going until finally he had reached the execution of Ganelon. He was covered in sweat, his throat ached, his eyes hurt from staring into the lights over the stage but his voice never wavered as the pulses along the third spoke increased in their intensity and speed as he felt his body begin to draw in mana,
"...Then the Bavarians and Germans, the Poitevins, the Bretons and
the Normans departed. The French more than all the others have
decreed that Ganelon shall die a death of special torment. They order
four chargers to be brought up, and they bind him to them by his hands
and feet. The horses are spirited and swift; four sergeants drive them
forwards towards a mare in the middle of a field. Ganelon has come to a
terrible end. All his nerves are stretched and his limbs break asunder
from his body; the bright blood spurts forth on to the green grass.
Ganelon is dead like the felon traitor that he is. It is not right that he
who betrays another should live to boast of it."
Micheal grinned as he summoned Blessed Hellfire and broke away from the script as he held it up to point at the ceiling while it glowed a mix of red, gold, white, and jet black and slowly stretched itself as its shape was altered. Eleanor shot upright with a yell of shock as Amelia watched while her son was slowly enveloped in the various energies coming from the slowly forming sword as part of the slowly shaping mana broke off. Micheal held his free hand palm up and the glowing piece floated to sit just above his hand as it began to take shape as well.
Then with a final pulse of energy the glow vanished into golden particles leaving a blade sitting in Micheals left hand that was identical to the painting of Murgleis he had done. The theater was quiet as Micheal looked from the blade to his audience and grinned at them. He spun the blade with a flourish and tossed the perfume bottle looking piece into the air causing both to vanish into gold particles while silver feathers slowly floated down around him as he adopted the last pose of the Chanson de Roland and closed his eyes,
"When the emperor had accomplished his vengeance he called the
bishops of France, those of Bavaria and those of Germany, and said to
them: "There is a noble captive in my house. She has heard so many
sermons and homilies that she wishes to believe in God and she has
asked to become a Christian. Baptize her so that God may have her
soul." And they replied: "She must have godmothers." At the baths of
Aix… there they baptized the queen of Spain, and they chose for her the
name of Juliana. She is a Christian now by true confession.
The day has passed, the night has fallen by the time the emperor
has executed his judgment and relieved his great wrath, and instilled the
Christian faith into Bramimonde. The king has laid himself down in his
vaulted chamber. Saint Gabriel came to him with a message from God:
"Charles, summon the armies of thy empire! By force shalt thou enter the
land of Bire and bring succour to king Vivien in his city of Imphe which
the heathen have besieged. The Christians are crying out and calling for
thee." The emperor had no wish to go. "God," he said, "how full of toil
is my life!" Tears flow from his eyes and he pulls his white beard."
He finished with a flourish that led into a bow followed by everyone applauding. He stood upright and staggered a bit as his exhaustion finally hit him but stuck his foot out behind him to stop himself from falling. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes as the overhead lights turned off and felt someone gently grab his bicep. He looked to his right to see Jeanne looked at him with both worry and pride,
"That was amazing."
He grinned at her as he fell back onto his hands and closed his eyes,
"Fucking hells I am never doing any of that again..."
He sensed more than heard Amelia and Eleanor come up onto the stage,
"Well. I'm not sure if I should take away points or not for going off script like that but… Was that..?"
He opened his eyes and sat forward crossing his legs as he held out his hand and focused on the feeling that would let him summon Murgleis. He scoffed as it appeared in his hand in a flash of red, gold, and white energy along with the perfume bottle which slowly moved to float above his left shoulder.
Chocolate huh?
He looked from it to his mom who was staring at it clearly conflicted only for Eleanor to kneel down and gently lay her fingers on the flat of the blade. She smiled softly,
"It needs a new name. One to separate it from the original."
Micheal looked from Eleanor to the blade and tilted his head as he thought,
"Le Bouton du Saint. 'The Saints Blade'."
Jeanne snorted a single laugh and arched an eyebrow at him,
"Bit on the nose don't you think?"
He chuckled in response and looked up at her,
"Alright then whats your idea?"
She stared at the blade for a few seconds before she grinned,
"La rose d'Argent Noirci. 'The Blackened Silver Rose'. 'd'Argent Noirci' for short. "
He held up the blade above him and slowly his face broke into a smile,
"'Blackened Silver', huh…? I like it."
~~~~~~~~~
-Several months later-
-Jeanne's PoV-
Jeanne inhaled slowly and tried not to wince as the knife cut into her palm. She specifically weakened her grail core so that blood could flow out of her hand and into the stone basin sitting just off center of the edge of the magic circle. Her blood joined Alisons in the basin and she counted to five then closed her wound. She flexed her hand, making sure that everything worked as it should, and then looked at Eleanor.
"My parts done."
Jeanne stepped out to the edge of the circle as Eleanor walked into it and gently laid the sleeping Alison in the center. Jeanne firmed her lips and tried not to feel guilty at what they were doing whens he felt Micheal nudge her shoulder and she looked up at him. He winked at her and smiled,
"She'll be fine. Once Artoria does what she needs to do she'll leave Alison. Also think about this from Alisons perspective. She's had the legendary King Arthur in her head for the past eight months and no doubt the kids been pestering her with questions from sun up to sun down. I'm sure said King is more than willing to leave based on that alone."
Jeanne huffed a single laugh and folded her arms as she looked around the clearing, her eyes lingering on the stone columns circling them. The spot chosen to do this ritual was one of immense magical importance to not just the United Kingdom but the Moonlit world given that six separate leylines ran under Stonehenge.
Yet Eleanor had reserved the entire site and as well as the surrounding area. Amelia yawned as she came up beside them, her coffee still in her hand.
"Too early…." She muttered and blinked a few times as she sipped her coffee. Jeanne watched as Eleanor walked to the center of the circle and painted some runes onto the ground around Alison in her own blood. As she watched the woman do this she mentally went back to a couple months after Micheal had gotten La rose d'Argent Noirci. He had been traveling between the Lafaire and Pendragon estates for the entire time being trained on how to use it from both Desmond and Olivia. It was during this time that she had asked Artoria how they'd even get into Avalon,
#######
"I'd assume you'd just use the tunnel honestly."
Jeanne quickly stowed her annoyance and gave the King of Knights a stern look from her spot in the lounge area they were in in the Lafaire mansion. Sitting nearby were Amelia and Eleanor who were seemingly content to watch the two of them interact. Feeling her eyebrow twitch she narrowed her eyes at the King sitting to her right,
"Artoria. I killed you while Micheal was my Master. I commited regicide and since I was doing it on Micheals behalf that means that-"
Artoria smacked herself in the forehead,
"Crap. I completely forgot about that. Yeah you'd- shit. How long do you and Micheal have left per what Eleanor told you in the vault?"
At this Eleanor spoke up concerned,
"Wait, whats going on? What does killing Artoria have to do with the time left?"
Jeanne leaned back into her chair suddenly tired as she looked at Artoria and jerked her chin at the other two women in the room. The blonde huffed a bit and then turned to look at Eleanor and Amelia,
"So commiting regicide does more than just kill a Ruler. It also brand the souls of those who did the killing with a mark. Not quite a curse but for all intents and purposes it might as well be one. Its called the 'King Killers Mark' and it condemns your soul to hell. The ritual to remove it is… complex and the set up is time consuming. You need the blood of the king that was killed in addition to the blood of the people that killed them as well. Which complicates things."
Amelia looked at Artoria,
"It already sounds complicated enough. How would it get more so?"
"By the very fact that you can't get my blood without going to Avalon and the only two people who can go can't due to the mark on their souls."
"Fuck…."
Jeanne muttered as Artoria shifted her posture to show that Alison was back in control,
"You could just use my blood you know."
They all looked at her causing her to tilt her head to listen to Artoria before smiling,
"I'm effectively the modern version of Artoria. Yet even then my blood is only 70% of what hers is since its missing the draconic aspected mana from her Magic Core."
Eleanor leaned back into her chair and stared at the ceiling for a bit,
"As much as I am against using your blood for this Alison it doesn't seem like we have much of a choice. What are the odds of the ritual failing with just your blood without Artorias mana?
Alison tilted her head again and winced,
"Not good. Artoria says that the odds are less than 2% of the ritual even starting properly. Expecting it to work as intended and not back fire is… a mistake waiting to happen."
"So wait. Alison. You said that the only thing missing from your blood was the mana from Artorias Magic core right? Said mana was draconic correct?"
Alisons posture shifted and Artoria spoke,
"Correct. My Magic Core was based off the Red Dragon's mana and essence so my mana was always draconic in nature. Why?"
Jeanne grinned and held out her hand to conjure some darkness which she crafted into a small dragon in her palm,
"Because I am Draconic by my very nature. I had the essence of Fafnir intertwined into my very being. Assuming that it just needs to be draconic mana then I should be able to make up the remaining 30%."
Silence in the room before Eleanor blew out her cheeks,
"Okay so the blood problem is solved. What would the circle even look like?"
"It varies on a bunch of factors," Jeanne said flatly dispelling the small dragon with a flick of her wrist, "However I have a third, Artoria has another third, and Micheal has the final piece we'd need. As for the size of the circle…"
She looked at Artoria who closed her eyes and tilted her head thinking before opening her eyes,
"It would need to be somewhere with lots of latent mana and ideally somewhere related to England or at least the British Isles as a whole due to me being the King of Briton."
Eleanor sighed a sigh of relief,
"Alright I'll reserve Stonehenge then."
Amelia choked on her drink and looked at her sister like she was insane,
"I'm sorry. I must have misheard you. You can just…. reserve Stonehenge. Actual Stonehenge. This isn't some table at a fancy restaurant how-"
"Because I am Eleanor Pendragon." Eleanor said smugly to Amelias sputtering outrage.
Jeanne watched the two women start to bicker and then leaned her head back onto her chair as she stared at the ceiling. She closed her eyes and ignored the arguing as best as she could. Eventually they settled down and she breathed in slowly, and then exhaled just as slowly.
"Okay so. The site for the ritual is set. The question now is what would the circle look like?"
"Wouldn't you three know that?" Amelia asked still clearly annoyed at what Eleanor was able to do with one of the single greatest magical sites in the moonlit world.
"No," Jeanne said pulling her head off the back of the chair and looking at them, "This is the kind of mark, or curse as Artoria put it, that scales with the significance of the Royal killed as well as various other factors. I know a lot about them from… my previous life."
She shook her head clear of the resurfacing memories and stared at the table for a few seconds,
"Given that Micheal and I killed King Arthur-" She winced and looked to her right again at where Artoria was sitting. She had gotten a book from the side table and had just cracked it open but glanced up sensing Jeannes gaze and rested a finger on her spot as she closed the book,
"You had no other choice given what I had done. If you hadn't then I would have won the Grail War and the world would have been worse off for it. So that at least would make the circle less complex."
Eleanor looked between the two of them confused as Amelia spoke up,
"Okay so here's my question: You know that the three of you each have a third of this circle but how would any of you even know about how complex the circle would be if there isn't a set pattern?"
Jeanne blew out her cheeks and looked at Artoria who nodded accepting her unspoken request to explain again,
"The circle is split across however many people participated in the regicide, how important said royalty was, how many of that royals immediate family died with them including heirs, the personality or temperament of the king and, for lack of a better word, the moral alignment of that specific King. Each of these factors on their own make it more complex. I was not 'King Arthur' when Jeanne killed me. It would be more accurate to describe myself as a 'Fallen' or 'Darkened' King Arthur or put more simply: a version of myself that descended from their throne to engage in tyranny with their baser instincts. This means that that aspect of the circle would be less complex based on that alone due to how I ruled while I was alive."
"And since I only killed her, not anyone else related to her, that makes that part simple as well. As for the other two parts of so Artoria would have those sections since they would correspond to her." Jeanne said folding her arms and staring at the floor, " I know my third since I'm the one that killed her and Micheal, as my Master at the time, would have his third be similar to mine but different enough that I don't know it. Without asking him we can't plan any further than we are right now."
"Well… I could wake him up if thats what is needed." Amelia said starting to stand up.
"No! Let- Let him sleep. He- He needs his sleep…. He's been training non-stop for two months now and…."
Jeanne winced at her own voice and shrank into her shoulders as everyone looked at her.
Eventually Artoria broke the silence,
"Despite not being your Master anymore… he's still seeing your dreams and memories isn't he?"
Jeanne nodded and frowned deciding to look at the table instead of anywhere else. She didn't know how she knew but she knew regardless that he was experiencing her dreams again despite not being contracted to her anymore post-war which should have meant no more Master-Servant bond.
She sighed,
"He's…. I can tell because I can sense… a presence…. in my own dreams and memories when I sleep. Its nothing concrete, I don't see him outright but…. sometimes when I dream of being burned alive I feel… this warmth separate from the fire wrap around me as if trying to comfort me even as I scream my last…. I don't even know if he's aware he's doing it since he would have talked to me about it by now I'd like to think."
The room fell into silence only for Eleanor to inhale slowly and then exhale,
"Okay. Jeanne, I have questions and I've been trying my damndest to not ask out of respect for Amelia and Micheal but I can't avoid it anymore. I figured out the minute I met you that you weren't human," Eleanor said tilting her head at her and narrowing her eyes, "While the mystic code sitting at the base of your throat is excellent work it only disguises you as a "cursed human" with none of the other side effects involved with a full blown curse. Then there was the entire thing with you said about being 'created' alongside Fafnir being intertwined with who you are. Who or what-"
"She's on our side Eleanor." Amelia said gently and wrapped her hand around Eleanors clenched fist which relaxed in her grip, "She has always and only ever been on our side."
"I'm just- I'm just worried about Alison…"
Eleanor trailed off as her breath hitched while Amelia quietly offered reassurances. Jeanne felt her throat get scratchy at the emotion and certainty in Amelias voice as she spoke about how she was on their side but swallowed it while blinking her eyes,
"Jeanne?"
She glanced over at Artoria to see her looking worriedly at her. She took a deep breath and sent a small smile back as thanks for her worry as she steeled herself to explain,
"So…. This is going to take a bit to explain."
________
"So….wow. Okay." Eleanor said after letting out a low whistle, "So let me make sure I understand all of this. You-" She gestured at Jeanne who nodded, "Aren't even from our timeline. Micheal sat with you as you died because he had traveled over to your timeline, from our own, and you both made a promise to meet again. Said promise managed to pull or at least register the you from your timeline into a servant in our timelines throne while keeping all your memories of your time in your own timeline intact."
Jeanne nodded and motioned that Eleanor could continue,
"After which you were then summoned by Micheal. Within your own timeline you were tasked with razing France to the ground by, in your own words, 'The Fallen God'-emphasis on the capital 'G'-, who then abandoned you and left you to your own devices until you were eventually killed."
"Correct so far." Amelia said as she nursed her coffee, "Trust me it took me a bit to believe it too."
"Thats not the issue I'm having. The issue is that that last part with the 'Fallen God' aligns too closely with what I've been seeing in my dreams."
Jeanne looked sharply at Eleanor as Artoria snapped her gaze to her while Amelia choked on her coffee.
"Jeanne d'Arc Alter. I know now you mean no threat to me or mine. Whatever you might have been in your own timeline your sins within it were wiped clean when you died. Servants, by their very nature, are sinless upon being summoned. So that explains and confirms that, beyond the kingkillers mark, you are able to enter Avalon as you are now."
Eleanor said firmly,
"No...I-" She hesitated and leaned forward to rest her head in her hands, "I keep seeing the same dream. Over and over and over again. Ever since Alison's visions of the Grail War ended and after what I saw and heard in the Vault. It takes places 21 years from now on New Years Eve 2014. I'm celebrating with Alison in the manor as the clock ticks down to midnight… only the instant it hits midnight…. Everything is burned. All of human history… turned to ash and dust. Then… right as I'm feeling my sense of self turn to ashes after I watch Alison dissolve in front of me… I hear a voice thats…. That I can only be described as 'Anti-human' in its malice, say one sentence."
She took a shuddering breath and dug her fingers into her scalp,
"'I am Solomon, King of Mages, and I condemn Humanity to ash and dust.'"
#########
"Okay… We should be good."
Jeanne refocused on the present as Eleanor walked to the 'east' of the circle while she and Micheal walked to the 'south' end of the circle. The basin with her and Alisons blood sat in the 'west'. Micheal knelt onto both his knees as Jeanne did the same right as the sun came up over the horizon, its light spilling over the 'north' of the circle and falling onto Alison.
"Now!"
Eleanor yelled as she placed her hands onto the circle while Micheal and Jeanne did the same. The circle immediately glowed a bright blue as it filled with mana only to then expand beyond its original outlines to encompass the outermost edge of the site. Jeanne glanced at Micheal and when he looked back at her he grinned before focusing back at where Alison was laying as another version of her seemed to float off of her while growing at the same time.
Her mouth fell open as the other Alison grew into a teenager and then stopped as her hair wrapped itself into a bun on the back of her head while an armored blue dress shimmered into existence over her body and finally a crown of gold gently manifested to land softly on top her head.
Artoria Pendragon opened her eyes and smiled a smile full of happiness and joy. She summoned Excalibur to her hand as it was, its golden blade gleaming alongside the morning sun which illuminated King Arthur as she strode forward to where Jeanne and Micheal where kneeling. Jeanne nudged Micheal with her elbow and jerked her head as she closed her eyes and lowered her head.
"I am King Arthur, King of knights, King of the Britons, and the heir to the Red Dragons Legacy. In my authority as King and Knight I cleanse Micheal Anthony Lafaire and Jeanne D'Arc Alter of the Kingkillers Mark that was inscribed upon them upon my death. May it never return. May they walk free under the morning sun as free men and women."
They both both murmured their thanks.
"Micheal…. Jeanne Alter."
She looked up and saw that King Arthur was gone. In her place was a normal girl in a plain blue dress who looked at them with evident fondness and happiness,
"If we ever meet again… I hope to be friends with you both then as well. Go. As both Artoria Pendragon and King Arthur I grant both of you the Blessing of Avalon with which you may enter and leave at your leisure."
Jeanne blinked and smirked at Artoria who smirked back,
"See you around Artoria."
"Likewise Jeanne Alter."
Her gaze flicked to Micheal and then back to Jeanne. She raised her eyebrows and smiled coyly as Jeanne felt her face heat and she bit back the first sentence to almost come out of her mouth. She settled for glaring at the woman who chuckled and vanished into the morning mist.
Half an hour later they were on the road back to the Pendragon estate as Eleanor explained to them how to get to the bottommost point of the caves under Glastonbury.
"I've only been there once and even then it wasn't much to look at."
She said annoyed,
"Its obvious that something is supposed to be there but nothing I did ever resulted in anything happening."
She sighed and looked out the window as the car moved. Amelia was still nursing her coffee while Micheal sat opposite Jeanne. She glanced at him and saw he was clearly thinking about something. Deciding not to bother him she instead asked Eleanor,
"We won't have to sneak past security will we? Neither Micheal nor I can really cast any spells that would make it easy to do."
"As much as I'd like to section off the entire town for you two I can't do that without causing a nationwide incident." Eleanor grumbled, "The best time to go into the caves is a little after 9pm anyway. The tourists are all gone and its the shift change for the people guarding it."
"And you would know this how exactly?" Amelia asked slyly as she cut into the conversation followed by Eleanor's face reddening a little as she firmed her lips and looked out the window. Amelia chuckled and looked at Jeanne,
"As much fun as it is to tease my sister and her teenage antics-"
"Shut it."
"No~. Anyway, You and Micheal need food and supplies on the off chance you both do get lost. While I trust what my sister said about your sins Jeanne when you were reborn as a servant I'd rather be safe than sorry. I have some hiking-"
"They won't need any of that."
They all looked at Alison who stretched in her seat, yawning,
"Remember: They've been summoned directly. Twice. Artoria even gave them the Blessing of Avalon. The tunnel should open up with that alone so odds are Micheal won't have to bleed on it at all."
Eleanor's eye twitched,
"Sweetie…. You didn't pester King Arthur with endless questions while she was here did you?"
Alison swallowed and looked away,
"I… might have asked the odd question or two."
Eleanor hummed a bit, clearly not believing a word of what her daughter said as she looked back at them,
"Given that you were told to bleed on it first I'd still try that. Even more so if Micheal is… who he says he is."
"That was before I had my faerie side awakened or whatever happened with the Water Mirror. I'd trust Artoria herself more than whatever possessed her and then dropped her face first into her own food." Micheal said tiredly.
Jeanne snorted a single laugh at this and they fell into comfortable silence as the car drove on.
_______
-Two months later-
-October 25th, 1995-
"Okay… Here we are."
Jeanne stepped out of the car as Micheal did the same from his side and she shivered in the chilly autumn air. Eleanor closed the drivers side door and looked around clearly lost in her own memories as Micheal coughed to get her attention and then asked her to show them to where Amelia had been staying for the past two weeks. Jeanne only half listened to the two of them as something in the air had caught her attention immediately once she got out of the car but for the life of her she couldn't place where she'd sensed it before.
She followed both of them to a small hotel where they found Amelia eating dinner. After some small talk Amelia finally told them what she had seen while she was here,
"The security change is closer to 10pm than 9pm but aside from that Eleanor was right. Micheal how much time do you have left before you need to get into Avalon?"
"about a week and a half until its been a year since the war but well before the birthday you've been planning secretly."
Amelia reached across the table and pinched his cheek as she frowned at him. Jeanne avoided looking at Micheal directly as she remembered the present she was making for him. She rubbed her finger and thumb together as she felt the bandaids under her gloves,
I never knew carving wood would be so… involved.
She sighed and then blinked as she realized something,
"Doesn't Micheal have studies at the Clock Tower?"
"Ah- Well… I… can't exactly…. do that anymore." Micheal said rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "While I can absorb and hold mana I can't generate it on my own. Which means that whatever mana I have on hand at that moment is all I have to work with… which isn't conducive to learning at the Clocktower."
"Officially he's withdrawn to study under me on the assumption that he'll take over as Brand once he's done." Amelia said folding her arms and glaring at the table, "Unofficially my son is a dropout."
Jeanne watched as Micheal winced at this but agreed.
Another thing I stole from him then when I brought him back improperly.
I… really should just…. get myself away from him.
For his own sake.
After we get out of Avalon I'll have to figure out how to get him to stay away from me. A geass won't work but… maybe a normal contract? He'd follow something like that to the letter and spirit given who he is.
She grabbed her wrist under the table with her hand squeezing it tight enough to bruise as she thought about how best to save Micheal from herself. Her gaze snapped up as everyone stood up and she glanced at the clock seeing it was just after 8pm.
"I'll walk you to the room you're staying in Micheal since I'm leaving tonight to go back to France. Jeanne I got you your own seperate room." Amelia said looking over her shoulder to look at her.
Jeanne nodded her thanks as they waved bye to Eleanor and then walked upstairs. Amelia walked Micheal into his room and came back out a few minutes later. She silently jerked her head at the room next door and Jeanne walked into it with Amelia right behind her. She closed the door and tapped out the spell for the bounded field that Jeanne knew she was going to put up,
"Are you going to be okay?"
Jeanne looked at the woman as she folded her arms and looked at her with concern. She took a shaky breath,
"I… Once… we get out of Avalon I- I plan on traveling a bit. Just… to avoid dragging Micheal or anyone else into my mess of a life."
Amelia's eyes softened and she walked over to hug Jeanne who stiffened,
"And what if people want to be in your life? No matter how messy?"
She said softly as she rested her chin on Jeannes shoulder. She bit her lip and tried not to let her emotions get the better of her,
"Then I'll push them away. Its… better for everyone I care about to not be involved with me. I… appreciate everything you've done for me Amelia but…"
"I can't say I'll respect that if its what you want Jeanne. I'm stubborn like that. We both know this."
Amelia said holding her at arms length. She stared into Amelias eyes and found them full of love and care.
None of which I deserve.
She bit her lip and looked away, closing her eyes. Amelia hummed a bit as she pulled her in for one more hug,
"I'll always be here if you ever decide to let me in. Until then, I'll wait."
"I can't promise that that will ever happen."
"It will."
Amelia said with such certainty that Jeanne opened her eyes and looked at her. The woman smiled at her and gently cupped her cheek in her hand,
"You're loved Jeanne D'Arc Alter… even if you think you never deserve it, I will always choose to do so."
Amelias watched beeped and she looked at it sighing,
"When you and Micheal come back… I expect you to have been dating properly for at least a year. Understand?"
Jeanne felt her face burn as Amelia gave her a knowing wink,
"He'll wait for you even longer than I would. We both know this."
Jeanne kept her mouth shut and just looked away again. Amelia sighed, hugged her one more time, and then left pulling the door closed behind her leaving the Avenger standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.
________
"So." Micheal said as he walked under a stone arch flicking his flashlight across the cave, "I still think we're lost."
"You need to be fucking quiet." Jeanne growled out as she looked around the open space they had walked into.
Again.
"You'll be lost until you die." was it?
I am this close to just blowing apart this fucking cave myself.
She ground her teeth together as Micheal came up beside her. They had been exploring the caves under Glastonbury for the better part of two hours and had yet to find the bottom of it.
"I feel like I'm going insane asking this same question but your sure you don't feel anything with your faerie blood or whatever the hell you have?"
"Even if I did, as I've said now repeatedly, I wouldn't even know what it would feel like so I wouldn't be able to tell anyway."
Jeanne walked over to a pillar of stone and leaned back against it thinking while Micheal got out his water bottle,
"Well what are you feeling right now?"
She asked and got a glare in response,
"I'm hungry and annoyed. Aside from that nothing."
Jeanne leaned her head back against the pillar and paused as her gaze landed on the ceiling. She stepped away from the pillar, her eyes going wide as she looked up at a softly glowing hole in the ceiling that showed the path that they had snuck down two hours earlier. She looked back at Micheal,
"...Micheal. Bleed on the floor."
He choked on his water and looked at her like she was insane,
"We haven't hit the bottom of the caves so how-"
"We're at the bottom. We've been at the bottom this entire time."
Jeanne watched as mana flowed through the rippling opening in the rocky ceiling overhead. On the other side she watched as a guard leaned down the passage flicking his flashlight from side to side clearly not seeing them through the hole. Micheal joined her and whistled as he looked up,
"Well I'll be damned… The cave just…. warped us to the bottom?"
Jeanne nodded and looked around the area noticing for the first time that this particular area was perfectly flat and that the pillars, one of which she had been leaning against not even minutes earlier, were all interspersed at equal distances. She mentally ran lines from pillar to pillar eventually finding the point where they all intersected on the floor.
"Here."
"You're sure? If I do this in the wrong spot then I'm going to bleed out down here. Which I'd rather not do."
"Positive."
Jeanne summoned her sword and dragged the tip against the stone to mark the spot with an X then stepped back as Micheal pulled a knife out of his boot. He knelt down and dragged the blade against his palm until a trickle of blood fell and splattered onto the stones.
"...Done." Micheal said standing up and quickly getting the bandages out of his pack as nothing happened while Jeanne frowned at the small puddle of the blood. Her eyes widened as she gasped,
"Micheal! Look!"
The blood had started moving on its own as it flowed to the outer edge of the circle while seeming to soak into the stone itself. They both quickly got off the stone floor as they sensed mana and watched as the stone floor dissolved out from the point where Jeanne had marked with her sword. They both stepped back a bit more and watched as the stone continued dissolving until it hit the edge of the circle where it stopped. Where the floor had been before was a stone path leading further down that was lit by blue glowing crystals mounted on the walls like torches.
As they approached top of the path a warm breeze blew out past them that both of them recognized as Jeanne smiled and Micheal fist pumped. He looked at her and she saw a gleam in his eye,
"Lets go then. Shall we?"
She nodded and they both walked into the tunnel leaving the world as they knew it behind.