|
|
Post by Arturia Pendragon [Alter] on Jan 4, 2016 4:06:31 GMT
At a distant mountain range far away from the Chaldea Base lies Saber Alter, standing atop of a mountain's summit with her sword Excalibur. Wielding the dark weapon in front of her firmly with both hands, the tyrant stands still with her eyes closed, adorned in her prana-woven black battle armor. This was her go-to place for a time of isolation, preferring to be by herself rather than associate with the other people, Servants and Masters alike. No longer was she a king of the people. Instead, she is but a solitary soldier, training herself constantly from dawn to dusk for the threat that looms over humanity.
It was a heavy snowstorm from where she is at. While she did not feel the coldness, her every breath let out a frigid frost. But then, in a sudden twist and turn, Saber Alter swung Excalibur horizontally in a near 360 degree turn, lashing out a thick arc of dark prana that separated the very clouds of the storm themselves and in the process, dissipating the weather phenomenon. What started as a two-handed swing ended with the King of Knights holding onto the sword with one hand, but not long before she would raise that hand up and stab the blackened divine construct onto the summit, leaving it there that is reminiscent of Caliburn on the stone.
Breathing out a deep breath, the girl known as Arturia glared out at the bright horizon. The sun was setting, and the scene of the sunset is as beautiful as ever admist the clear, orange sky. Yet she did not hold any emotions or feelings regarding this beautiful scene. Walking towards the edge of the summit, she watched on without any much thought. Yet somehow, her stare remained fixated on it. Perhaps there is no particular reason to it, or maybe there is a reason that the girl hadn't figured out yet. For now, all she can do is live in this particular moment.
|
|
|
|
Post by Mordred on Jan 8, 2016 1:07:42 GMT
The blizzard that Mordred was caught in was fierce, fierce enough to interfere with even her sense of direction. While there were steps she could take to manage around it, such tactics would bite even into her very considerable prana reserves now that the distance between her and Chaldea was great enough that the link of mana was severed. Mordred made a habit of trekking out to practice, as it wouldn't be a true showcase of her skill and talent if she was simply provided with endless mana from the absurd facility.
...Besides. It wouldn't do for her to be watched by a certain individual while she conducted her training. That would defeat the entire purpose.
So out in the tundra, Mordred trods through the snowstorm, hoping it will pass and she will find a suitable place to practice her sword. The wandering is uninterested, but also impatient. Such idle thoughts vanished immediately as she noticed a huge, ridiculous outpouring of black mana and the cut through the snowstorm. Something like this had to be investigated...it wasn't something that even someone merely on the path of chivalry could ignore, let alone one hoping to regain the title of the Perfect Knight.
There's also the fact about how...familiar...that mana feels. But that was impossible. She'd never seen prana like that before, the only thing comparable was the energy that her Father's sword unleashed. And she knew that whatever cut through the clouds in the sky, it was not the Holy Sword of Promised Victory her father had. As she approaches the source of the outburst, her sense of unease grows. The familiarity didn't stop...it only got more intense. A step. And another. Each one screams with both nostalgia and danger.
As she crests the hill, a sight that could not be, and yet both was, and could not be anything else met her eyes. Mordred's mask disappears immediately as she runs, leaving craters in the snow.
"Father!? What happened to you!?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Arturia Pendragon [Alter] on Jan 22, 2016 5:19:28 GMT
Arturia's stare into the horizon of the sunset was firm, almost trance-like even. Something about this scenery is captivating to her, as if she had forgotten such a sight that she once saw before. The hope that she had for the isle of Britain... Is that what it was? Whatever it was, even in her trance-like state, she was not lax to let her guard or senses down. She can feel the presence of a Servant coming towards her with haste. But she did not turn around. Rather, she waited. Waited, until the unknown figure showed up on the summit.
But when she heard those words... and the sound of the voice that accompanies those words... She couldn't believe it for a brief instant.
Slowly, Saber Alter turned around, and she saw her. Mordred. Her 'son'. But... is it the same Mordred she knew in life? Or was it the Mordred that was known in the Arthurian Legends that the people of this world commonly knew of? Her facial expression was that of surprise. Her eyes slightly widening, her lips parting apart as if she wanted to say something on instinct. However, her surprised facial expression quickly disappeared, returning to a stoic facade. Perhaps, Mordred didn't see her shocked expression, as the sunlight behind the tyrant was blindingly bright, almost on par with the radiance of the Holy Sword of Promised Victory. But by the time the radiance faded and the sight of her face could be grasped by sight, that surprise on her expression was no longer there.
Slowly, Saber closed her eyes. Somehow, she couldn't bear to look at Mordred. She was not sure how the 'original' Arturia felt, but this Arturia had a stronger bond, so to speak, to the Mordred she knew. The Mordred that she hoped had saved Britain and have led the people into a time of peace and prosperity out of the dark ages of her tyrannical reign. It feels that this Mordred doesn't compare; a person who failed at extracting proper vengeance and only came to be known as a villain. However, she can tell that this Mordred seems nothing like a villain... Perhaps something have changed about her? Or was she mistaken in analyzing her essence? She just wasn't sure.
"What does it matter of what happened to me?" Arturia replied emotionlessly, opening her golden eyes. "Whatever happened, have already happened. You cannot change it."
Arturia would then raise her right hand, beckoning it towards Mordred, as she referenced the gesture in direction of the blackened Excalibur impaled onto the summit. "Did you not want to hold onto that sword with your own hands? I'm giving you the chance right here and now. Succeed the succession of the throne, and save Britain. Or is that even too much of a burden for the 'son' of King Arthur to bear?" The last sentence was said almost with a silent plea, that only the most skilled of observers can detect. Could Mordred detect this 'evil' Arturia's true feelings and intentions? Or would she be doomed to ignorance once again on the actual worth of the Arthurian events that transpired within their legend?
|
|
|
|
Post by Mordred on Jan 24, 2016 6:37:35 GMT
Shielding her hand from the northern sunlight, Mordred can't help but grit her teeth in confusion. "What does it matter...what do you mean, what does it matter! My father is not an idiot! If something happened to harm you, a curse perhaps, let us go slay the one who did this to you! If it is some blasphemous revelation you uncovered, let me help you!" There had to be something she could do...because as it was, it was too hard to rationalize. She'd seen her father, talked to her father...and she knew she'd get to see her father again, even if a mission she was on turned out disastrous...she could hold out faith in the father that accepted her forever.
"Succeed the succession of the throne? But the one thing we disagreed on was that I was unfit to be the one to lead Britain...What's going on!?" The contradictions were making it hard to think, there was something wrong...but if only she had the key, then she could make sense of this insanity...and then she smiles, laughing.
"Clearly my work in Chaldea convinced you otherwise! I knew you'd come around eventually, Father!" Forget...whatever...has afflicted her father, if she said it was insignificant, who was she to argue. What mattered was that, moreso than acceptance and forgiveness, there was that final thing she sought but was willing to put aside: Recognition. Recognition that, as Arthur's son, she was capable of succeeding the kingship. While a wholly unnecessary thing in comparison to the love that Arturia offered before, getting it made Mordred feel like she was dancing on air.
Walking over and drawing Excalibur from the summit, she hefts the blade in her hands. "It's...heavy. Black. The closest sword I've seen to this was the one -he- wielded..." Memories of her rival surfaced in her mind, but with a breath, she allowed it to pass. What she did to Lancelot was a sin she could hopefully ask forgiveness for later. "It is not this sword I wished to wield, no. But if you ask me to take it, I will do it out of my love for you, Father." Turning back to Arturia, grinning, she holds it by the blade, offering the handle back to her. "But we're still in service to Chaldea, aren't we? Fighting to keep the world safe? Won't you need a blade to do that?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Arturia Pendragon [Alter] on Jan 29, 2016 0:56:15 GMT
Arturia retained her emotionless front in the face of Mordred's outburst, albeit she was quite amused at her 'son's' foolishness deep inside, even if this foolishness was brought on by ignorance. She was also quite happy that... this is not the Mordred who was focused on villainy like in the Arthurian Legends known in this world. The fact that the aspiring king did not recognize the tyrant's appearance at first glance eliminated all doubts within the darkened King of Knights's heart that this Mordred is not the Mordred she knew back in her lifetime. And the fact that the words spoken by Mordred were out of confusion and distraught means that she had met the original King of Knights, the King Arthur of the legends recorded by this world's humanity. Despite their differences, it seems that both Arturia's had managed to accept Mordred for who she is at some point in their respective times, whether in a past lifetime or in this current Servant life... which was surprising, to say the least. Their paths had not diverged simply because one is 'good' and the other is 'evil', but also because they have different experiences during their time in this world and different reflections of their respective pasts. And yet, Mordred still managed to have a deep relevance to both knightly hearts.
"Slay the one who did this to me? Help me free myself from this state? Mordred, if only you knew..." The Altered Servant replied firmly, her beckoning hand returning back to her side. "... that the person you see here... was because of my own doing." Even now, this Saber is being stubborn in revealing her true feelings. Was it because this Mordred is not the same one she knew, despite the paths of both Mordred's closely aligning? And then, she felt the aura of Mordred's ecstatic feelings surging up. Just now, she was recognized by her 'father', acknowledged that she is able to succeed the throne. Saber Alter was wrong then... she had thought the original Arturia also recognized and acknowledged Mordred's succession to the throne. But that was just the tyrant's head jumping to hasty conclusions out of hope.
Arturia's eyes narrowed as Mordred drew Excalibur out from the summit, the darkened Excalibur emanating a dark aura that Mordred could surely feel in her essence. Her head slightly drifted to look away to the side. "So even you would love me for who I am now?..." She mumbled with a solemn expression and a clear quietness in her voice that could not be heard, her head returning to glare right at her 'son', before slowly walking forward like a steadfast knight. "If this is what they want to use me for... for the salvation of this world, then so be it. I no longer have any real desire to pursue." She said as she reached out to grab the handle of the outstretched Excalibur from Mordred and tried to pull it away from her gently. "But I cannot disregard the fact that you have grown. Thus, I will be proud to see you grow even further alongside in combat. Even if your growth does not allow you to bear the burden of all evils through this very sword, it would not matter if, in the end, your hands manage to rightfully wield the sword that holds the hopes of all knights and other warriors alike throughout the endless ages."
|
|
|
|
Post by Mordred on Jan 29, 2016 7:17:02 GMT
The revelation that it was Arturia herself that caused the...blackening, both in her appearance and in her sword came as a shock to Mordred. That...that couldn't be. Her father was a paragon, the ideal that guided the knights and kingdom, and was eventually betrayed by them...by her. It wasn't possible for her to become blackened...was it?
"Father, I...I don't understand. How...why?!" It took all her effort and resolve not to engage in something childish, like stomping her feet, having a tantrum in the snow. That was beneath her...but still, things didn't make sense, and she wasn't sure how to resolve the contradiction between what -should- be and what is. "Then...I take it's your choice to be like this? If that is your judgment, father, but..." She sighs. "It's just...hard to take in." She didn't want to make waves...not with someone she still may be on thin ice with. She'd been forgiven, but...she didn't want to invite another chance for her to be betrayed.
Mordred watches her father move up to take her sword back, and she lets Excalibur go without protest. She nods at her father's proclamation, though sighs slightly. "I guess you really are the same as always, then...I was foolish for taking appearances to be important. You're still the type who denies yourself, aren't you?" She wasn't particularly one to talk...her life had been one of denying herself to fit the ideals of her father, to be the perfect knight in the eyes of the king she wished to serve until she died. But..."Don't be so steadfast on that, Father. Chaldea is not Camelot...there's opportunity to relax and enjoy the time..." A thought comes to her head. "Father, if you're free tonight...or perhaps tomorrow evening..."
She loses that train of thought as she's praised by her father, though, and she grins wide as her growth. "Hah! You've noticed, haven't you?" Mordred puffs out her chest in pried, satisfied at Arturia's words of acknowledgment. "There's no burden I'm unable to handle. Whether it's your blade, or the one I've taken as my own, I'm the perfect knight, the son of the greatest king of all!" She grins wide. "And I'd love to be able to show you that, fighting by your side, Father. Just you wait!"
|
|
|
|
Post by Arturia Pendragon [Alter] on Feb 20, 2016 23:33:07 GMT
"My son..." Arturia opened up in response. She was glad that Mordred is starting to gain the will to understand the things around her and not just follow any commands directed at her in a mindless manner, just like the Mordred in her own timeline. Although it was a sight to behold, she did not expect this Mordred from the Arturian Legends known within this world to already start gaining such a mindset. Did her confrontation with the 'original' Arturia already made such a drastic transformation within this knight's character? But even despite this revelation, this King of Knights still had some semblance of stubbornness to reveal any details of what happened to her and how she came upon her own personal judgments. She still had some sense of being a King, especially in the presence of her subjects, despite this Mordred being from a different timeline than the one Arturia was in. Because of retaining some of that kingly mentality, Arturia felt that explaining such things are pointless when it does not concern them. However, slowly yet surely, she is trying to break out of that mold. "I'll tell you when the time is appropriate." The Tyrant knew that Mordred still doesn't know that this Arturia she is talking to is a completely different Arturia from the one the silver knight personally knows. When she, Mordred and the other Arturia meets up one day in a strange 'reunion', perhaps that will be the most appropriate time to explain the discrepancy that Mordred is witnessing right here.
Arturia remained silent as she took back Excalibur, wielding the darkened blade lightly at her side. Mordred would then state the existence of the same kingly character that Arturia had in life. It made her ponder that maybe, all characters attributed to 'King Arthur' would have this self-denial in their ideal kingship. She listened to her faithful knight's ongoing conversations, and the talk of Chaldea being a place to relax is somewhat uncomforting to the always serious and now battle-focused knight. The dark Tyrant would then hear Mordred inquiring if she had some free time. However, before that inquiry could be made properly, the topic suddenly changed to her 'son' happily receiving her earlier praises, and while that is something for the King to be joyful about in seeing that bright smile from her 'son', Arturia could not stand such a sudden redirection of conversation. It is like the Knights of the Round Table's meetings: always serious and on-topic. "Mordred." She said firmly and with a straightened golden-eyed glare. "You shouldn't change topics so suddenly. Tell me what you initially had to say first." Her voice would start to become more softer afterwards. Arturia was simply not used to this change of setting. The Round Table's meetings back then were always serious as it concerned the governance of Britain. But this... this conversation 'should' be much more relaxed, as if it was father-son bonding time. "My apologies for scolding you. I am indeed free tonight and tomorrow evening. I have nothing to do but training and missions anyways, and I currently do not have a mission assigned to me." Deep inside, she is also happy that Mordred is still at least boastful of who she is. But... "Also, you can praise yourself a bit better. If you really are a perfect knight that you claim to be, you should strive for perfection out of your own abilities, and not because you are associated with the King of Knights." And as she said that, a small smile formed on her gentle lips.
|
|
|
|
Post by Mordred on Feb 29, 2016 18:52:54 GMT
Mordred shrugs at being told to wait, but can't fully suppress a grumble. "If you say so, I guess complaining won't do anything..." She smiles, though, putting on her brave, optimistic front. "Well, as long as you're still you, things are just fine, Father!" It definitely felt like Arturia was hiding something from her, and she definitely felt like she had a right to know, considering she was her son. But her father definitely had a good reason! There was no way that there wouldn't be one, if that's what she said!
As she's reprimanded, she steps backwards slightly, but as it's explained to be a statement in the affirmative, her eyes all but sparkle in excitement. She hadn't expected a "yes" answer, so this was something that Mordred had hardly even thought of. "I...I er, was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me and Brynhild later! It'd be great to spend some time away, and believe me, she'll erase any memory of Gawain's damnable cooking out of your head!" This was amazing! She'd get to impress her father right away!
At the suggestion, Mordred can't help but laugh. "Of course I'm perfect from my own abilities. Being associated with you is just a way to show that to people! After all, how could the son of the greatest king be anything other than perfect!? If I was inferior, then I wouldn't claim that relation...it's only because my abilities are the greatest that I can call myself your son with pride!"
|
|
|
|
Post by Arturia Pendragon [Alter] on Mar 25, 2016 23:35:32 GMT
"Brynhild?" Arturia questioned when she heard the name. At first, she wondered who this person Mordred was talking about. However, she would know after a brief moment of recollecting her knowledge that she had obtained when she was summoned. "I see. The Valkyrie. So you have made an acquaintance then." The King of Knights said, not aware of the relationship her son and the Norse Heroic Spirit had between them. Based on the sentence Mordred spoke, Arturia assumed Brynhild will be cooking then. "I would gladly join you two for dinner... As long as, um... it's not the usual food I prefer, that is." As her son doesn't know that she is a different Arturia from another parallel universe, Mordred most likely also doesn't know that this tyrant enjoys junk food rather than the classy food the original Arturia delights in. She phrased her sentence in such a way that Mordred will get the message that 'she does not want to eat the more refined type of foods', believing that her son followed the assumption that this darkened King is the same saint-like King she knows of. And as she awkwardly said this sentence, Arturia would give a glancing look to the side occasionally, giving off a noticeable expression that can give her son a good hint of what she meant with that sentence.
As Mordred boasted and praised herself, Arturia's grin remained on her normally stoic face. "Good." She complimented firmly. That one word is more than enough to sum up all of her feelings for 'this' Mordred: a mix of pride and happiness for the young knight. She honestly had nothing more to say at this moment. Of course, the King of Knights definitely have more to say, but she can say it for another time, such as for this upcoming dinner she was invited to. "Actually..." She suddenly blurted out, looking straight at Mordred without doubt. "Would you like to test your skills against me? I would like to see how far you have come."
|
|
|
|
Post by Mordred on Apr 7, 2016 3:50:21 GMT
Mordred laughs against her better judgment as her father tries to puzzle her current situation out. "An acquaintance? You could say that, yeah." Grinning, she thinks back on her time spent with the valkyrie woman, and sighs. "We've...actually been rather serious. She's wise and incredibly powerful, but rather sad inside, not having gotten past an old betrayal. We were rather similar that way..." She didn't outright say what the nature of their relationship was, and didn't feel that she should or that she needed to.
As her father accepts her proposal to eat dinner with her, Mordred's face lights up. "You will? EXCELLENT!" Her caveat, requirement not be the standard food she likes confuses Mordred. "You know, I'm not even completely sure about what you like, let alone what you dislike. What do you want her to make? She's pretty flexible, chili stew one day, steak another, I'm sure we can have a meal that'll knock the black right out of you!" Laughing to herself, she walks up and gives her father a hug. "Thanks for agreeing to this. Means a lot."
Her offer to spar was unexpected, and, while brings back more than a few bad memories, elicits a nod from Mordred. "Sounds good. I've gotten more than a little stronger since...well, you know." Walking backwards, her helmet forms, covering her face, and Clarent appears in her hand. "I'm ready when you are. Come at me."
|
|
![Arturia Pendragon [Alter] Avatar](http://storage.proboards.com/6341000/avatar/Q9PjH9Za4hb8zjRbz7Vf.jpg)
