Welp, since the fanfic contest is over, I guess I'll post this one here too, like others have done with their entries.
------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------
The sweet vision of the Holy Grail
Drove me from all vainglories, rivalries,
And earthly heats that spring and sparkle out
Among us in the jousts, while women watch
Who wins, who falls; and waste the spiritual strength
Within us, better offered up to Heaven.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
*****
“I will no longer be human. I will be a force that kills everyone to protect everyone. Yes……from the very beginning…I was prepared to become a king.”
Her eyes snapped open. For a moment she wondered where she was, until she once more recognized the snowy landscape. A world full of snow. The once great city was now in ruins, the skyscrapers nothing more than empty hulls and skeletons of once living creatures. The sky had been blotted out by grey clouds, and everything seemed to be of monochrome colors.
In other words, hell.
A flake of ash landed on her nose, and she wiped it off with a slow movement. Her right hand was gripping the blue handle of Excalibur, so tightly that she feared her knuckles were bleeding. As she gazed to the sky above her, she saw how the raining ash seemed to have no end. But there was a logical reason. After all, the Holy Grail which she and the other woman fought for so desperately, hating and despising each other…
…….It’s physical form was destroyed. Turned to ash.
In a single instant, the destroyed grail covered this empty world with clouds of raining ash.
“…………It is like the aftermath of Camlann.”
So muttered the King of Britons, Altria Pendragon. She was the only thing with color, blue and silver, in this endless city of snow and ash. The same kind of desolate landscape now appeared in two of her last moments. The one during her life, the one during this fight for the Holy Grail. Her life, one battle after another, had led only to moments like this.
“Once, long time ago, I was so close……so why cannot I…remember?” Altria uttered to herself, a pained expression on her beautiful face.
An oath she had made so long ago. Lying there, in the shadow of a beautiful tree, she stared up towards
the skies. The long journey she was not able to finish. Shameful ending, one unbefitting her beautiful country. She had become a perfect king, but that was all for naught.
But why…?
Why did not his eyes blame her? The one knight that had stayed behind with her, the one who watched her till the very end. Why did even he refuse to blame her for her actions?
“Oh, Bedivere………such kindness, even to the death.”
And what her death granted her was another chance. A chance to redeem herself.
Yes. Long ago, for sure, she was already reaching out for the Holy Grail. And not only that……she remembered many things. She remembered war that was more akin to a tragedy. She remembered powerful men, ridiculing her way of a king. She remembered a black-haired man, cold and distant. She remembered a white-haired woman, kinder than anyone else. She remembered many people who, one-by-one, died in shame and regret, with no one but her to remember their rage-filled faces as they succumbed in defeat. She remembered…….him. The one she never blamed, yet who was consumed by mad rage.
She remembered herself succumbing to that same rage, in her final moments. The Holy Grail, the reason why she had endured all those pointless deaths and humiliations was within arm’s reach, and yet there was that single obstacle, that thrice-cursed man who she could not defeat, that bastard of a---!!
Altria flinched at the thoughts of anger which invaded her mind. So much time had passed, yet she still felt all that.
But there was more……
She remembered how she was, once more, summoned. She remembered him, a boy as kind as the white-haired woman. One whose warmth was enough to even melt her heart. She remembered pledging her sword to him and fighting with him, until……everything…
……..Was taken away from her once more.
Black rage. Anger unlike any other. Once more she succumbed to the hellish flame inside her, unable to fight back. That tale too…
Ended in a tragedy.
He stood there, dagger in hand, above her. Tears in his eyes, he brought down that dagger. And she remembered how she simply stared at him with cold, hate-filled eyes.
If there was one regret Altria Pendragon had, it was how she could not cry at that moment. She would have given everything she had in order to go back to that moment, to cry during that moment.
--------- She could only shed tears of bitterness afterwards.
But now, after so long time, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember the details. She couldn’t even remember the names.
…….If only she could remember the boy’s name.
“…..!!”
Her thoughts were stopped by the sound of a blade swung through the air. Altria’s sixth sense warned her, and she dodged the blade by only few millimeters by ducking under it. The beautiful silver sword quickly recovered from the miss and advanced again into another attack. But this time, Excalibur was there to meet it.
And as the sparks illuminated the ash-filled air, the two knights finally looked each other in the eyes.
Jade met sapphire.
“…..Ruler…!!” Altria growled, seeing the woman who had attacked her. It was not as if there was anyone else anymore who could attack her.
------ But the mere sight of this woman made Altria feel deep anger.
“Saber----“ Ruler answered with her own determination as they separated their blades.
Excalibur and La Pucelle danced across the sky.
When they met again, the shockwave sent the snow from the ground to the air. It mingled with the ash, creating ethereal fairies of the apocalypse who danced to the rhythm of steel hitting steel. Two holy swords creating a web of death in the already dead air.
Altria slashed horizontally, trying to cleave her opponent in half, but the latter jumped over it and brought her longer, yet more graceful, sword down in a powerful cleaving strike. Altria dodged to the side like a dancer and tried to strike with that momentum, utilizing her sword like a sickle. But the opponent simply ducked forward, rolled over and rose up in yet another sword strike, ready to skewer Altria.
It was a fight of equal forces, neither which could defeat the other.
How many days this fight had raged, no one knew. It was simply the endless repetition of what had already happened, over and over again. The swords met each other and filled the void of sounds with their voices. It was as if the world itself had decided to replay this war infinitely, as there was nothing else that as there was nothing else that prevented the stagnation of the world.
They were the only living force in this world anymore.
Excalibur was momentarily overpowered and pushed to the ground, and the other knight attacked with her knee. It hit Altria straight to the shoulder, almost dislocating it. She responded by moving to the momentum of the attack, spinning around and bringing her sword around like it had been a mace. The sword hit her opponent to the back, but the armor was enough to block it. Still, the force of the attack threw the opponent forward like a ragdoll, and Altria followed after her, intending to finish the fight.
But as her opponent rose immediately after hitting the ground, Altria was forced to reconsider her plans.
----------- To one of pure-force attack.
“Strike……Air!!!”
Her shout pierced the air, and in that moment, typhoon of wind was released.
It hit the purple and silver knight straight to her chest and sent her flying with ever-increasing force. With a thunderous sound that shook the snow, she hit the skyscraper behind her, leaving a crater in its surface. Altria, seeing that, picked up her speed and followed.
Her foot was placed on the vertical surface…
…..And moments later, Altria ran up the wall of the skyscraper, after her enemy.
The King of Knights poured her magical energy into her steps and became a blinding flash that rose ever upwards. In her wake, the wind broke the hundreds and hundreds of windows of the skyscraper, bringing down a of crystallized glass. The shards intermingled with the falling ash, creating a show of light and shadows that, for a moment, illuminated the whole field of snow far, far beneath them.
Seeing her opponent approach, the knight in purple moved upwards on her own, running up the wall in a manner similar to Altria. This time it was the King of Knights who had to endure the rain of glass as she braved forward, in order to catch the one enemy she could not accept.
“I am a king……I am no longer human……After I gave away so much, after I gave away everything, there is no other Heroic Spirit more fit for Holy Grail than I am--!!” Altria yelled as she released the rest of wind covering Excalibur.
----------- Then, why?
Why did this one enemy have eyes that reflected Altria’s own?
Why did her determined, pained face tell of sacrifices of equal value? Why did this enemy’s sword swing with strength equal to her, with unwavering force equal to her? Why would she not fall? Why was this equilibrium unbreakable?
Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why----------
“Why won’t you surrender already!?!? The grail is mine!!!” Altria roared, announcing her hatred to her enemy.
---------------------------------------- The King roared her anger.
Yet……
The girl once known as Altria felt something else.
The released galeforce cleared the path up to the knight in purple, destroying the windows and the surface of the wall in process. Altria utilized that path of wind to catch up with her enemy, her yell still echoing in the empty world. Excalibur drew a fiery line of sparks along the wall as Altria swung it with power, trying to cleave the opponent in half. Her back turned to the King of Knights, this enemy should have had no chance at all.
And yet, she anticipated the attack. It was like watching a miracle being born.
The enemy turned around spun around as she approached Altria, lowering herself so that the sword passed overhead.
“----Ah!?” Altria managed to simply let out a sound of surprise.
Her enemy dodged Excalibur so close that one could not have even wedged a sheet of paper between the girl and the blade. The sapphire eyes were locked into Altria as the enemy dived closer, her sword prepared in her lithe hands. And as Excalibur had passed, the other knight began to rise.
------------ Then time seemed to grind to a halt.
La Pucelle was swung. Having dodged the sword, the purple knight’s face was only a few centimeters away from Altria’s, and in that moment that stretched to a small eternity, the two girls stared at each other. They reflected their own faces from the eyes of their enemy in complete silence, amidst the glass shards that were like fireflies of that desolate world.
“The question is……why will you not surrender?” the purple knight spoke. “After these countless eons, on this final chance, I finally give in to my selfishness…….and yet you appear, to prevent me from saving everyone!!!”
The final words were spoken with hatred that matched Altria’s.
And…
--------------------------------------------------------- La Pucelle connected with Altria’s chest.
The King of Knights was flung back towards the ground from over 400 meters. She became a blue comet that plummeted towards the ground with ever-increasing velocity. Seeing that her enemy had momentarily been delayed, the knight in purple climbed into the skyscraper through one of the broken windows to catch her breath.
Altria on the other hand…
“……aaaaaaAAAAAAAAA!!!”
Roared, as if with that sounds she could have denied her rival’s existence.
In order to gain utopia, she had given up everything.
-------- She became a king.
So should it not be her who had the most right to set things right?
Should it not be her to whom the Grail belongs to!?
*****
“I would rather die than do something which I know to be a sin, or to be against God's will.”
Jeanne d’Arc heaved heavily as she pushed herself to the horizontal surface inside the skyscraper. Even though her reserves of magical energy were vast, such leaps up the skyscraper were taxing. Now she was catching her breath, trying to calm herself down before yet another encounter with her enemy, the knight in blue.
“……Lord…why, in my final battle, the only battle in which I yearn for something for myself, I am denied it…? Is it not a worthy cause to prevent what happened back then, so many years ago…?”
------------ Jeanne’s hands were positioned in a prayer, and her gaze was directed to the cloud-filled skies.
But, in this empty, white and grey world, even Jeanne had begun to feel that…
…Her prayers fell to the deaf ears.
The world has long since ended, and nothing but the shadow of a life that once was remains. Only the two of them, living as an echo to the war and calamity that, in the end, destroyed the planet. It would have been ironic if it had not been so sad.
Jeanne felt pain even when she thought about the untold innocent lives that were lost.
A flake of ash landed on her forehead, and Jeanne gazed up. Now that she had a chance to breathe in the midst of this long overdue battle, she once again saw the familiar scenery. The ash that kept falling from the physical form of the destroyed grail, mixing with the snow.
--------- Yes, that ash was like the back then, on that final day.
She had felt the flames and the heat. She had held her head high, proud of what she did. Not once did she curse or hate the ones that executed her. It was simply the human nature. They were the creation of the Lord, and thus, what they did was forgivable. Jeanne had only felt sadness, for she could not finish what she had been tasked with by God.
And………
“Jeanne! Jeanne! Jeanne! Jeanneeeeeee!!!”
That pitiful, sorrowful cry that echoed in her mind as the flames ate away her body.
A single familiar, a crow as black as the soot around her, circled around the pyre. In its eyes, she saw the one who had been most loyal. The one who had been the kindest of them all, supporting her cause with all of his heart.
And now, he was forced to watch how she was executed. He could not even be there himself. Confined, he had sent his only familiar, that old crow, to see her for one last time.
“Jeanne! Jeanne!! Jeeeeaanneeeeeeeee!!!”
Such a sad howl, almost to the point of madness. The crow dove towards her, akin to an arm reaching out in desperation. Flames ate away the body of the bird, but it did not stop. Not even for a moment. A desperate attempt to save her, without any basis in reality.
---Organs burned.
---Skin burned.
---Flesh burned.
Black feathers were scattered across the fire, dancing in the heat of the air. Around her, a beautiful requiem was being performed by a friend descending into insanity. In her eyes, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Jeanne, seeing that effort, managed to reward it with her tears, as if to reassure him that he had done all that was needed from him.
He had lamented her death. And that was enough.
“Oh, Gilles………such kindness, even to the death.”
Memories from beyond that time blurred into one long journey. A single figure standing as a guardian of wars fought for relics unified by a single name. She became a knight defending the greatest miracles humanity, the blessed fools, had managed to produce. Innumerable times, innumerable wars, innumerable victims, with not a single being capable of grasping that bright future ahead of them.
Was it mankind’s destiny, to never attain salvation?
Never once had she desired to attain that miracle herself. She had deemed it enough that she had done her part, whatever the outcome might have been. But as endless turned into infinity, she began to wonder. Wonder if she could, even once, be selfish.
Those thoughts she hid deep into her heart and readied herself to once more guard the miracle of humanity.
But even infinity is just a single concept. It will, some day, come to an end. That was where she stood right now. At the end of infinity. This last chance for mankind to attain their Holy Grail.
------------- It was here, right here, that she finally succumbed to her selfish wish.
At the end of the world.
The saint shed her innocence after her long, long journey. And she became a human, just a normal human, for the very last time. That was how she wanted to leave this world.
Not as someone who was seen as a pillar of faith.
But as the human she once was.
“……..”
The moment Jeanne heard the earth rumble outside, she gripped her sword, La Pucelle, tighter. She forced her tired body to rise up from the ground, to once more charge into the battle that had raged for longer than either combatant could remember. They had already destroyed the physical form of the grail with their war. Yet the miracle was still there.
----------- Buried here, at the end of humanity.
A blinding light was being emitted from outside the skyscraper. One that challenged the white of the snow with its brilliance. Jeanne hurried to the window, only to see something which she could scarcely believe. In the midst of the ruins, a tornado of wind had appeared, pushing aside both grey and white that governed the dead world.
She sprung into action, jumping outside. Jeanne’s magical power transformed into speed, and soon she was speeding once more towards the far-off top of the gigantic building. Gale rushed past her as she ran ever higher and higher, turning the windows into a waterfall of glass behind her. She became something akin to an angel, ascending to the heavens.
But even angels have been known to be brought down to the ground.
“---------------------!!!!”
There was not that much distance to the top anymore. Not even hundred meters. The land below seemed like a collection of miniatures, depicting a war-torn landscape.
Even that was not enough.
“EX---“
The blue knight roared aloud, along with her magical power.
“----CALIBUUUUUUUR!!!”
A cut of light filled the dead world, and for a moment, it took an appearance of the Pearly Gates. Slicing through the death of the earth itself, the holiest sword showed them both, for a moment, a memory of the living reality that once had been. But inside that light was nothing more than death, in the end. It sliced through the base of the building, destroying the lower pillars that kept the skyscraper standing.
-------- It was a well-placed attack. One that destroyed the one fortress Jeanne had put between her and the knight in blue.
“T-this is……!?” Jeanne gasped.
The skyscraper let out a moan of pain that echoed throughout the country. There was no one to hear it but these two, but they both knew the power of that sound. It was the sound of the tallest building this civilization had created, falling down.
Jeanne quickly switched her trajectory and started circling the body of the building, determined to get to the top-side so that she would not be crushed under the huge structure. The sky flew in her vision as she picked up her speed, running past a corner and another, finally ending up where she wanted.
……And where her enemy wanted.
The blue knight crashed through the glass window of the falling skyscraper. An amazing leap with a huge amount of magical power behind it had sent her rocketing to where Jeanne was. And now her enemy appeared in front of her, appearing from the window just ahead of her. Jeanne braced herself, swung La Pucelle forward and attacked.
The two swords clashed together. Excalibur was thrust forward almost immediately, but Jeanne redirected the power by sliding it to the side with the flat of her own sword. La Pucelle instantly went for a slash afterwards, but the blue knight dodged to the side and aimed a swing at her feet. Jeanne spun around in the air, utilizing the free-fall in which they were locked now, and avoided Excalibur. Her counter-attack caught her enemy off-balance, forcing the blue knight to retreat.
The skyscraper kept on falling, a movement which seemed to stretch into eternity. In truth, Jeanne and her opponent were moving with such incredible speeds that their sense of time was distorted. Together they exchanged strikes back and forth while moving around the surface of the building. Particularly intense one forced the two of them into a run, one which took the around the body of the skyscraper.
Swords screamed at each other in the language of steel and sparks. Ash falling from the sky was caught up in the whirlpool of wind that was created around the two, and it created a funnel cloud of grey and white above the two fighters. Their strength and power tore apart the air and the already weakened walls of the skyscraper, creating shockwave after shockwave across the sky.
Finally, the old building could not take it anymore. Jeanne felt how a crack appeared behind her, and she jumped backwards, not intending to fall with it. The blue knight retreated backwards instead, and so, a great chasm appeared between the two fighters. The crack widened and widened, until it came to the breaking-point and passed it.
The sound was like the spine of a god had been cracked.
The top-most section of the skyscraper was cut from the main body, and in the huge fall down below, it separated, beginning its own free-fall. Jeanne watched how the knight in blue stared after her as the piece of building distanced the two girls. Jeanne knew that if she let the blue knight go now, the fight would return to the starting point once more. She could not afford that. This eternity had gone on for long enough.
Without hesitation, Jeanne drove magical energy into her legs and leaped after her opponent.
“Ruler-------!!!” the knight yelled as she saw her approach. “Why...?! Give it up, already!! This is my last chance, the only chance I have left!! I will not lose here, not before I have made right what once went wrong!! I will not back down, I will not fall, I will not die……”
The blue knight’s expression was twisted by anger.
“So why do you insist on fighting, when you have no chance of winning!?”
Her anger, her desperation, was like a slap across Jeanne’s face.
“I will not give up.”
Jeanne landed, and the force of her entrance was enough to send the ruin of the skyscraper spinning around madly, nearly throwing the two of them into the air. Wind rushed all across the body of the building, with sky and earth switching places constantly. Yet, even in the middle of that chaos, Jeanne met the eyes of her opponent and rushed forward, La Pucelle ready to bring her victory.
“For this one last time…! For this one last moment! I will take back what I destroyed long ago! I will finally allow myself to feel like a human, and grasp that miracle I’ve been yearning for this whole eternity---!!” She yelled as their swords met again. “You say you cannot lose? Neither can I! No, I refuse to lose! I will right the wrong that was done that day, as my first and final act as a human----!!!”
Jeanne pushed forward, feeling anger welling up inside her. She could not accept this enemy. The one who claimed she had as much right to the Holy Grail as she herself. Jeanne had ignored innumerable miracles just to follow her nature as a saint. Never once had she acted for herself, but always for the sake of order and good. But now……..
------------ Now there was nothing more than this. This fight, and this miracle, were the last things to exist.
And Jeanne had decided that she wanted to return to being a human.
…What could the blue knight possibly have as her justification? Such arrogance. The mere thought that someone, in this final moment, appeared to deny her of her final and earnest wish, made Jeanne feel boiling hatred towards her opponent.
Should it not be her to whom the Grail belongs to!?
She would never accept her.
And the enemy would never accept Jeanne.
“Haaa----!!!”
Excalibur cut the air and was struck through the wall they were standing on. Immediately, the wall crumpled and opened a hole below the two combatants. Jeanne and the blue knight fell into the building, their bodies floating due to the free-fall. Around them, the hollow skin of the building kept spinning, becoming like a sturdy cage that was now around them.
“Time to end this….!” Jeanne murmured and spun backwards, placing her feet on to the inner wall and pushing off.
She was shot forward, towards her enemy, as though from a cannon.
Loud explosion cracked through the air. Both the blue knight and Jeanne exchanged strikes as they flew past each other. The moment they hit the walls on the opposite sides, they jumped again, being on a collision course with each other. Their speed picked up as they ricocheted inside the spinning, falling building. Both women became flashes of light and steel, avoiding the pillars that had once kept the skyscraper standing up.
La Pucelle and Excalibur hunted each other down, ramming against each other again and again. From down and below towards the skies, soaring like eagles in the spinning space that was now their battleground. Jeanne descended on the wall and started running, jumping to get some air and landed on one of the supporting pillars. She spun around the pillar, using the momentum the building had gathered to launch a counter-attack on the blue knight who approached with sub-sonic speeds. They collided together and were thrown across the empty air. But the knights landed on their feet and jumped forward again. Both followed a narrow path past the pillars, avoiding hitting them, and finally found each other.
Their swords hungered for blood and flesh. They tore the armors of their opponents in a flash of a moment that was enough for both Jeanne and her opponent to launch more than a dozen strikes.
Once again the knights hit the opposing walls and were thrown in to the air. The structure around them was spinning wildly, out of control, headed on a collision-course with the ground. Inside that whirling cage of anger, the two of them charging again and again, announcing their right to the Holy Grail.
Excalibur sliced through one of the supporting pillars in order to hit Jeanne, who was thrown backwards from the force of the sword attack. Her back hit another pillar and she spat blood, unable to contain a scream of anguish. The pillar broke her fall, but she broke the pillar in turn. Subduing her pain, she spun around and got into the free-fall again, deflecting blindly against the next attack that came with La Pucelle.
The swords hit together and created a loud shockwave that shook the falling building. Like a house of bricks it crumbled from the middle, exposing the two of them to fresh air once more. Wind howled in their ears as Jeanne and the blue knight landed on their respective parts of falling debris.
The ground was not far away now. Jeanne knew she had to make her move.
Gathering speed, she jumped from one falling piece of rubble to another, advancing towards her opponent. Seeing that she was about to meet a full head-on attack, the opponent narrowed her eyes and did the same. The two of them headed straight at each other, determined to finish the battle. The debris was being crushed under their feet, but their magical power was enough to send them flying to the next piece.
The sky was their battlefield. It was their domain. As the rubble kept spinning, so did the combatants, both earth and sky appearing above them, switching places. But the eyes of Jeanne were focused only on one thing.
The jade-green eyes of her opponent.
“Ruleeeeeeer----!!!” Her opponent’s yell of anger silenced even the howling wind.
“----Sabeeeeeer!!” she answered with her own shout of hatred.
The two knights collided mid-air, their swords thrusted forward.
For a moment the two of them were in a dead-lock, both holding back the sword of other while trying to pierce the other one with their own. Excalibur and La Pucelle, holy swords both, now trying to kill people who their owners simply could not accept. Two clashing ideals. One who had always searched, on an ever-ending path, for a miracle. And one who had always waited, without selfishness, for someone worthy of a miracle.
But now the two of them had cast aside their innocence. They were through with it. Their time was running out, for this was their last chance. And so the one who searched while holding on to her honor, succumbed to her obsession. And the one who waited while holding on to her ideal, succumbed to her selfishness.
The two of them became dirtied by their own quest.
“The Grail is mine!!” Jeanne roared. “To right the wrong that the world did to me!”
“It is mine!” her opponent answered. “To right the wrong that I did to the world!!”
With those two shouts, the two of them crashed to the ground with an earth-shattering sound. It ripped through the ruins of the city, creating a wave of destruction that destroyed a good part of the area they were in. A huge cloud of smoke and rubble erupted, only to be drowned in an even greater cloud that appeared when the rest of the body of the skyscraper hit the face of the earth.
Ash. Snow. Glass. Dust.
It rained down upon the two figures lying on the ground. One was on top of the other, holding down a sword. Two knights who had finally come to a conclusion.
An end to the final war in the history of humanity.
To the victor the spoils.
But----------------------------
*****
“The Holy Grail! What is it?”
“The phantom of a cup that comes and goes.”
A flake of snow took a flake of ash as a dance partner. The two of them waltzed down through the sky, in unison with innumerable others who had joined this last dance of the world. The last movement of nature. It’s requiem of death, in a mockery of those who killed it. The flakes were broken and separated by the glittering dust that was smashed glass, so neatly crushed that it was like a mere breathe. A sparkling arc of light that no longer existed.
This was the weather around the two. The ones who had just finished their long, long battle for that which they both had yearned. Two girls who could not accept the regret of the other, unable to see that their grief was equal in size. A grief for a person and a grief for people. Just who could judge which one of these was heavier than the other? For the two of them, they themselves owned the sorrow that most needed to be comforted. The wrong that needed to be righted. There is no impartial judge in this world who could tell which one is right or wrong, for both believed they were right and that the other is wrong.
But……perhaps it was because they saw a reflection of their own desperation inside the eyes of each other that the two of them could not accept each other? For them to see someone yearning for a miracle as much as they themselves did must have been something their hearts rejected.
---------- The possibility that our greatest source of sadness might not be so special after all.
That is what humans fear the most.
The simple fact that we ourselves are not as special as we think we are.
That our worries, our sorrow and our pain might not be the one that is important to the world.
Time goes on without caring about any of us. It is the sad truth in this world. Our greatest mistakes leave a mark in our hearts that will never go away, but at the same time, it cannot be transmitted to anywhere else. It can be understood, but it cannot be truly shared. For it does not touch others like it touches us.
Altria Pendragon knew the pain of Jeanne d’Arc and saw her pain. But in her mind, what anguished her was truly important.
Jeanne d’Arc knew the pain of Altria Pendragon and saw her pain. But in her mind, what anguished her was truly important.
The duality between these two girls, put into this final of all wars, made them reject each other from the moment they met.
“….uuuu…..uu….”
Quiet sorrow. Tears fell down on to the armor. They made small sounds, like rain against the rooftops. The hands gripping Excalibur tightened as if to make sure that the wound she inflicted had been fatal. The golden hilt’s brilliant color had been dimmed by the falling ash, like the honor of the girl taken over by her obsession to restore the glory of her country, to choose someone who would not make the same mistakes she did.
Altria Pendragon cried while pushing Excalibur deeper into her opponent’s body.
Teardrops merged with others, ones streaming from the eyes staring up towards the face of Altria and the grey, dead sky beyond it. The sapphire eyes of Jeanne d’Arc gazed at her opponent with a myriad of feelings. Her silent sobbing was only broken by the occasional twitch of pain as Excalibur was pushed deeper. But at the same time, her own hands kept a firm hold of La Pucelle, pointed upwards. The blade, dirtied by snow, jutted towards the sky. Two lines of blood brought color into the whiteness.
Jeanne d’Arc cried while piercing with La Pucelle the body of her opponent.
Saber and Ruler. Two knights fighting for their own wish, their own miracle, both wounded fatally. Pierced by the swords of their opponents. Both knew, at the moment the dust had settled into the slow dance of the petals of destruction, that there was no victor. The war ended with the loss of both sides. Everything, in the end, had been for nothing.
------------------ There was nobody to claim the Holy Grail anymore. The world, and the two final forces that had existed, were now dead.
“No……n-no…..I don’t….I can’t…….this was not how it was supposed to be!” Altria’s pain-filled howl rang out.
As if she had lost her strength, finally, Altria’s head descended down and her forehead touched that of Jeanne. To someone observing from afar it would have almost seemed like the girls were embracing each other. But for them, it was nothing more than merging of their grievance. Anger had disappeared into the wind, leaving only empty regrets behind.
“Even in the end…….I cannot die as a….human?” Jeanne whispered, her teeth grinding so hard together that one of them broke. “Why….why-----!? Why am I denied……even that…..!?”
Jeanne shed tears of regret. The young girl, the one denied of her life by using God as an excuse, cried due to the injustice of her death. Pain that had been pushed away for so long came flooding into her mind at the height of their despair. Now, when she finally understood that she could no longer change anything, she finally realized that her dream, the dream of becoming a normal girl once more, had been reduced to dust.
Both of them, Altria and Jeanne, finally understood the truth of what was the Holy Grail.
An impossible dream, a miracle that would never exist. Searching for it was a quest of impossibility, a chase to drive away the pain of accepting your own mistakes. Humanity always wished they could change something, erase mistakes they had made, and bring forth a world where everything was better. But there was no way such a thing was possible. Humanity could never achieve something like that. What had happened could not be undone.
------------------ The Holy Grail was nothing more than a fool’s wish.
Whether it was to save your country or to save yourself, mistakes like that were already made. There was no undoing them. A concept known as a Holy Grail was nothing more than a fancy name for impossibility, a gold-gilded delusion that we would not have to take responsibility for something that had passed. If the tragedy were to be averted, maybe then the people responsible would not have to blame themselves for everything that followed.
And so it was the case for Altria and Jeanne.
Driven by mad obsession, they sought for the last of the Holy Grails in order to erase that one mistake that defined them.
But………….
When humanity dies, so to does the Holy Grails disappear.
“I just don’t want to………know that my country was destroyed because of me….” Altria’s voice was now nothing more than a powerless whisper.
“And I want nothing more than to live the life…….I was denied”, Jeanne answered, every word draining more of her strength.
The two gazed at the eyes of each other. Covered in snow and ash, they were nothing more than two pitiful remnants of the desires of men. Incarnations of the regrets left behind, finally having come to the realization that no Holy Grail exists. There never was something as convenient as that. Life and time march on, leaving us behind with our sins and regrets, to cry at the decisions we made. It is a chase for empty dreams, one which can only be won by those who live in delusions.
For our mind is the only place where we can be free of our grief.
------------- The opponent we fight is none other than our own image.
Blue reflects green. Green reflects blue. The dying two gaze into the abyss of their reflection. These two, who, if under any other circumstances, could have been the greatest of friends. Only due to the cruelty of the world and the scars of their hearts did they clash against each other. Only due to their obsession did they reject everything the other stood for, in order to justify their own regrets. Chasing the phantom cup of illusions they hurt each other, wounded each other, and finally, killed each other.
Now, when their strength is gone and all they got left is bitterness and sorrow, can they look their opponent in the eye. Sharing the cruel realization of their folly, the realization of the mankind’s greatest and stupidest wish, they finally know.
Perhaps…
Some other place…
Some other time…
…….They truly could have been friends.
“…………………………………………………………………Ah.”
A field of wheat inside their hearts.
It is only now that they both see it. Stretching to the ends of earth and lit by the twilight. With the ever-present moon filling the sky above them, the two of them finally walk upon this yellow field, together. A better and more forgiving place, one inside their delusions. In their mind, they create utopia, a thought where they can exist before the tragedy befell them. A world so different from the dead one they belonged to.
Wind gently brushed the wheat and sends it rocking slowly, as if it was sea. A faint scent of home lingers in the air. A slender hand brushes the stalks. Nothing but the wheat moves in this world. There are no animals on the ground or birds in the sky. No humans save for these two. It is a perfect world where they can be free of pain.
Altria.
A girl in a simple tunic and brown pants, her hair on a ponytail. She holds her wooden sword with a tight grip. A smile adorns her young face. She waits for the right moment, standing there amongst the wheat. Her friend is finally here. They have finally met. And now, this world is theirs.
Jeanne.
A girl in a linen blouse and skirt with slit, her hair flowing freely. The wooden sword in her hand is worn out like her face, but on her lips she has a smile equal to that of her friend. She stands there, in the middle of rocking stalks. The burden on their shoulders is gone.
“……..I never did anything wrong”, Altria says, sounding content.
“And I……always lived true to myself”, Jeanne answers, with a clear voice.
The wooden swords are raised. The two of them point them towards each other.
And…
“Then isn’t it alright?”
---------------- Which one of them, in the end, said that?
Two pairs of feet kicked the ground. Swishing sounds filled air as two young girls charged forward in the field of wheat. As they met, the wooden swords were swung forward, and they met with a loud clack. Immediately, Jeanne spun around and aimed a slash towards the ribs of Altria. The latter dodged by moving backwards and came forward with a thrust. Jeanne moved sideways, using her momentum for her advantage and aimed an attack towards Altria’s head. She ducked under it, bringing her wooden sword up in a majestic arc.
The sound of wood hitting wood filled the empty world. Like the other one, this was a world with no one else but them. But in this world, there was warmth. In this world, there was no harsh truth. In this world, there was no need for a Holy Grail.
This was a world where they both were freed from their sorrows.
A fight with no true style of technique. Just two young girls, attacking each other with wooden swords. A friendly competition that was held for the sake of fun. And indeed, soon enough, bubbly laughter escaped from Altria’s lips. Jeanne giggled as she brought her sword down in a slash that was immediately followed by another. Altria blocked both of them and used her sword with two-handed grip to counter-attack.
Jeanne put her hand against the wooden blade and pushed forward, blocking the chopping attack. For a moment the girls tested their strengths. Then they broke off, immediately resuming large arcs of attacks and untrained movement. Altria’s sword cut the air with two-handed cuts while Jeanne relied on her fast movement and fast thrusts. Clacking sounds continued and dents in the wood showed just how much power these two were putting in each strike.
Dodging Altria’s two-handed, horizontal strike, Jeanne went for a sweep with her leg. Altria jumped up in order to avoid it, but messed up her steps. Instead of flying over it, she stumbled on Jeanne’s legs, causing both of them tumble down into the ground. Wooden swords flew from their hands. Altria fell, sprawled, on top of Jeanne, letting out a silly yelp.
For a moment, the two of them stared at each other. Green eyes reflected blue eyes. Then both burst out giggling and laughing. Jeanne threw Altria off of her, and the latter rolled sideways, stopping on her back. Now they both were staring up at the enormous moon. Scent of wheat filled their noses. Laughter, as innocent as two young girls can only muster, echoed in the field.
There, holding hands, these two friends were finally able to smile as in the past.
This moment probably lasted forever for them. Maybe they are still seeing it. But the world is not so convenient. Delusions can only stay delusions. Illusions become illusions, returning to ash and snow. Glass falling from the sky reflects only the truth.
As girls known as Altria and Jeanne enjoyed the freedom from their tragedies……..
………………Girls known as Saber and Ruler drew their final breaths.
Never reaching the phantom of a cup that comes and goes.
Reply With Quote
Originally Posted by Verg Avesta
