Chapter I: Age-worn Promise

Ragged panting was the only thing leading the way. Bladed air searing his throat to a numbness he cared too little about. Yes, none of that mattered.
The sight of trees whisking by, blurry smears in a stretching world could only be described as scenery; of no substance. Truly, were they illusions? Could he really keep on telling himself that it's just another nightmare in passing?

...

Was he even thinking about trees, still? What was it about? What was he trying to say?
Or trying to avoid?
"It can't be true."
He was too scared of the prospect, the implications; too scared to admit that he might have been wrong, and the worst part was that it will not be pride that strikes the blow against the knight. If he truly was wrong, if he's been living in a self-centered lie, then...
... Was it all in vain?



An azure figure danced like an arrow in flight. The bow was strung, the shot fired -- there was but one path, one goal and exactly one way to reach it. Nothing was allowed to obstruct him, not now.
His shape hazed visibly from exertion. Speed was paramount; momentum -- a most needed boon. As he dashed through copse and meadow, nothing dared match his focused zeal.
The peaceful forest shook almost visibly. A contrived tremor, the epicenter of which now lied splintered as punishment for existing in the wrong place.
Can the nightmare be true? Luna, can I have truly failed all along?

But the nightmare he sought was not there. With divine speed he flew out of the forest, only to crash into a place that did not belong to his world.



Blue hair brushed by Zephyr's kisses, dancing like flowing water above brows arched, stilled in timelessness. Violet eyes bleached; gem-like glass work at breaking skies -- so everblue...

A dreamlike scene. For one absorbed by terror, that timeless landscape shone like a firefly.

The azure knight's chin hung bewildered. Pale lips give their parting blessing and so the tiniest gate opened, revealing a voice even smaller. Trembling. The voice of a child on the verge of tears.

"A-..Ar-..."
His knees thudded into the ground. His half-born question echoed lonely. Echoed, in his mind, within the bounds of that singular marble of reality, of dreams.
Was this his punishment? To be judged by your own sins. A fated outcome.

But Aegis could not move. Only stare. At the small golden-haired frame, in peace, beneath a bulging sky. He just stood there, knees dug into ground that was undoubtedly soaked in blood.

He only stood. As the slow winds urged his eyes to leak...

Difficulty. Breathing. Looking. Understanding. All that was a difficulty he was not accustomed to. Wasn't it too sudden, after all? He had fought, he had died, he had lived and fought; and then he gave up. And now he must fight again, he knew it. It was as clear as day now, but for what? What was the cause this time? Aegis did not believe in fate and destiny, and as if to punish him for just that, both those tossed omen after omen.



Aegis was useless, like a jellyfish on land. The Azure Knight faced with the King of Knights. The King.... his king... the king he had once killed. A king that now looked at him with those oozing emerald eyes, as naive as she has always been. Smiling. Idiot! But who? Her, or him?

The knight's exasperated gasp was like a cold shower. There it was: disembodied analysis. Mechanical logic -- what he needed. He could look at himself from a mile away and judge the scene ruthlessly once more; the only requirement was a spittle of focus.
... It was still no good. He could articulate every single idea that weaved his being into place, but what good was it? What good was knowing he was furious and hurt, overjoyed and confused, saddened... outraged, helpless. Useless information. He could still do nothing to stand up to that small smile. He couldn't even look her in the eye.

"You can't be real. Or are you...?
He started to rise, to try and escape, but... that tender smile...

"..."
For the first time, Aegis did not know what to do. He didn't even know if he was capable of action. Each second was theft, and he the victim. His breath, his reason, his self; all of it was stolen by that forsaken smile. The smile of a long-forgotten past. A past too long remembered. A knight and a vampire, locked in the infinity of a moment; a dance and a solo performance, intertwined without any mutual consent. Who was the noble? Who was the parasite? With the rising dawn, which one of them would burn up like a memory?

"......"
It was, undoubtedly, an illusion. An unholy ploy to torment him. Evil. Lowly taint.
... But he was just trying to run away from the truth. A simple occurrence: his memory is here to haunt him. To make sure he recalls his sins. So then, isn't he, in the end, the lowly taint? A spit in the face of not even humanity, but whatever group he fell into. A self-hating lump of uselessness. Pathetic.

"..... You don't ask me that when you just came back from the dead, idiot."
I cannot cry when she beams that smile. Only reject her, like I always have, whoever she is. And, like she always has, the girl is bound to ignore it... And for the second time draw too close to a sundered soul.

Like a curse.
The curse of memory.

Could it really be so ridiculous? She wasn't even a full memory; a fractal. The idea of reminiscence, and in her place as the beholder it was Aegis who had faded. The azure blood letter had long-since faded from that history.


Clangorous steel. Booming thunder, dying screams and all the disgusting cutting sounds in between. Yes, that is how genocide sounded like. The slaughter of children put forth by the wise and the holy. No doubt an anticipated outcome.
Perhaps she herself understood the path before her at some point. But who could tell? She always surged on ahead with the brightest of smiles; a beacon shining so! Bleaching light. Cleansing -- liberating men and women alike from their sins and worries. The light of a true king. The glimmer of absolute, divine idiosyncrasy they forced on to her...!


Aegis spat an internal prayer to the god of stoicism when Artoria introduced herself. It was all he could do to quell the bubbling laughter.
Seru? What the hell? Too much was wrong with that sentence. With the whole situation, actually. Aegis had awoken after a nightmare. A vision of recurring apocalypses, like a threat of cyclic truths. But what does this phantasmal fit have to do with it? Surely he was still dreaming. A dream that never ends.

But he could end it.

With confidence and stability, expressionless Aegis arose to tower before her. It almost seemed like he was twice her size, but he's never felt smaller.
In that hazy afternoon on a lush backdrop, Aegis stood out more than ever. His eyes caught the sun like a mirror -- nay, a pond rippling with intent. Brightness flowed like waves that chimed colourfully: purple-white-purple. A clearly artificial sheen. Magical, even.
Like every time, the feeling was otherworldly. His mind split brutally, exerting itself to freeze time and space where they stood. It was the most basic of abilities: Origin Perception. The power to retrace anything back to its genesis in Akasha, however it did not work that time. The connection was violently severed, or rather split right down the middle.

"Gaaaah!!"

A stuttering grasp for balance as Aegis almost fell. What was that? A metaphorical spear was driven through his head the moment he tried to read her... revealing only snippets. A death, a reincarnation, another beginning.

The knight touched the blood streaking down from his nose. "Absurd. This makes no sense. You were dead! You were dead, I k-..."

The pain made him bite the words down. But which pain, exactly?

He was astonished. Was that...?

The knight forced disarrayed pants into a rhythm. Serenity's cadence, reborn at the dawn of the next beginning.
Biting back everything that tried to punch through his chest, he stilled the heart and sought understanding. It was almost nostalgic, in a sense. It had been a long time since he had last failed to understand...

"Aegis..."

A single word that burrowed inside of him. Wasn't it familiar? A name; his, no less, yet so rarely heard. It was his name, truly -- for some reason he had a difficult time grasping that. He felt pitiful. No living being could ever hope to reach his mental capacity, yet with her simple words, the golden-haired girl reduced him to a small child. It was a numbing sensation. Held aloft in a sensationless trance, in his own little void -- yet her smile induced warmth. It also suggested something hidden, something long-buried that couldn't have been his, ever.

He barely stopped himself. Why were his arms seeking her? In such a weird way, not resembling a handshake or some other salute. In fact, it almost looked like he wanted to hug her. How ridiculous could that be? The ice-born knight didn't feel such human things. No, it certainly wasn't his, the feeling.

He somehow coaxed his parched mouth into functioning. Bit by bit, he regained control over his mind, and then the body.
"... For the... first time..?"
Aegis could finally remember that smile. Such light-hearted brilliance, such evanescent beauty... It was her last smile. Just like it; there was no doubt. And he was meant to act like this was new?

---

In another of its subtle fits the breeze picked up, then calmed as if ashamed of its own vigour. The scenery had not changed a bit, not even after the infinite moments that invaded it. If anything, it's more... Well, more serene.
The azure knight was amazed by how steady his voice was. Yes... That was called a mask? He could wear masks. If anything, he should've been surprised he had forgotten.

"Now, while I remember your name, I don't really remember anything else about you. So let's treat this as though we've met for the first time. My name is Seru. Pleased to meet you!"
And a smile. A handful of words and a basic expression. Surely the Azure Knight himself was capable of adequate response.

Standing straighter, the dignified air around him was only smothered by the certain coldness to his look. Some might even call it condescending, or calculative, or contemptuous. Perhaps neither would be wrong. Perhaps he himself didn't really know the truth of it.
"I am... I have no name. You can call me whatever muses you."
He was aware that a smile, no matter how faint, would probably suggest animosity with his look, but he had to smile, even if faintly. Smiling was the only thing that could keep him together right then.

"Forget that... "Aegis" idea. You're mistaken. If I am to tolerate you, limit your foolishness to the minimum."
Forget smiling. He wanted to laugh -- it was just that absurd, all of it. Something stopped him, though. Another one of those longings that could never have been his.

"The only Aegis that I ever knew was unsavory. And irritating, for that matter. Do not associate me to such a lowlife."
The last words seemed to carry an especially blunt coldness to them. Was he really starting this with a veiled reprimanding? He probably didn't really know. His head felt light and suspiciously lax; the situation was pleasant, he suddenly realized. Very entertaining. It was madness.

But what is the definition of insanity? If not the mindless repetition of that which is long-since futile?
Yes, he was born into insanity. And worst of all?

It was the only thing keeping him together.

It was just so very much hopeless, Aegis barely even felt like scoffing any more. Oh, how he would love to refuse to associate with her. Would that not be convenient? Turn his back on history, face the dawn and smile.

Except that he could not, and it was very clear by then. An impasse; was there still a point in going against the current?
His eyes hardened, his expression shifted towards ice and the azure knight practically glared. A feeble attempt, surely, but he had to try none the less:
"... I really cannot understand why you are so cheerful. Listen to me. Listen very carefully," he took a breath, "Your name is Artoria Pendragon, also known as King Arthur, the ruler of a country that existed so long ago even books don't know about it."

The stone was thrown, Aegis truly felt that this was his only remaining hope for escaping the inescapable. Was there a point in fighting the current? No, but that's what he spent a thousand lifetimes doing anyway, so why give up now?

"You are a knight and a murderer who died for her sins, as was expected by all. You killed thousands and were then killed by thousands, and in between that misery I was your mentor. I despise you, I despise everything that relates to you and I will never cease despising it. Animosity doesn't even begin to describe the pure, concentrated hatred I feel towards you, and why? Frankly, it wasn't this bad, because you were a long-buried memory. Dead for thousands of years. Oh, how great it would've been if you stayed that way!"

If Aegis was capable of expressing emotion right then and there, one would think he was fuming. Yet the absolute zero undertone in his voice did not falter, which was a new sensation. Since when was he so good at lying? Or was he saying the truth? Impossible; he never felt hatred towards anything in his life. How could not begin to conceive where all that was coming from, and his mouth kept working in spite of his inner confusion.

"Why must my nightmares always haunt me? Why can't they just perish and fade unto oblivion?! And you. You are most definitely the worst of them all. I can't even kill you right. I can't make myself kill you right now and be done with it. Show you the world? Hell no! I'd rather commit genocide."
A faint trembling overtook the impeccable composure, just briefly. It was realization. Genocide might very well happen, if his other concerns prove true, although for reasons beyond explanation, Ludwig's recurrence was the last thing on his mind.
"And now, despite everything, I'm willing to give you a chance. Walk away. Leave. Go somewhere too far for me to stumble upon; I don't care if you have to go to the Moon or to another galaxy. Leave, and I won't scatter you across a dozen graves."

Madness. Aegis had no idea what he was doing. He wanted to accredit his words to another internal malfunction, but he wasn't convinced of it entirely. Each of those snarled claims held equal parts emotion and logic -- they were calculated threats. He just didn't know how they had been calculated. If it was a plan he followed, the plan was definitely not his own.

Azure frame straightened artificially, seemingly rigid, pressured. A coil, tightened and ready to spring haphazardly.
"Choose... quickly, Artoria. And don't give me that forsaken look." Lashing his hand diagonally, a blade reforged in his grip, but just barely. He drove too much mana in it, almost destroying it upon assembly; the flourish was excessive, too. Too forceful, too uncontrolled. It was not typical, but he could not care any less. Thought was unneeded when things were so plain. Irritants annoy, and must hence be removed.

"I've had enough of guilt and manipulation! Begone, demon!"