A Rondo of Fools

[SpoonyViking]

Hello, everyone! This is a multi-chapter fanfic set in the world of Fate/Apocrypha, but using only original characters; hopefully, that still makes for an interesting read! :-) I'll be posting a teaser for each chapter here, but the full chapter will only be posted over at AO3 - and only viewable for registered users, I'm afraid. Sorry, but after finding out AI apps also comb over AO3 and other fanfiction sites, I'd rather not leave my fics out in the open.

So, without further ado, here's the first chapter of A Rondo of Fools! Or rather, the teaser; the full chapter can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43231308.

***

Act I - A Rondo of Fools

The spirits of the land and air howled, and the elements followed suit.

A wolf ran through the thick, dark woods, heedless of the cold and wind. There was nothing unusual with that sight; despite the centuries of extermination attempts, the Black Forest was still home to some of the creatures. That the beast moved not with the single-mindedness of a predator on the hunt, but with the practiced ease and foreknowledge of an assassin after a victim, meant nothing: that it was a wolf in a forest – unremarkable, and thus unseen – was enough.

Sorcery was the art of deceit.

The wolf stopped. Deep in the woods where the sun could not reach and twilight reigned, there was a mansion of earth, wood, and stone, a cold and miserable fortification, only accessible by a dirt road. Consisting almost entirely of a single fortified manor house, it was not exceptionally large, but it had clearly withstood the passing of time: despite looking as solid as it must have been when it was first erected, its walls teemed with the wailing spirits imprisoned by the fortress’ greedy magic, echoes of vestiges of the dead with barely enough consciousness to have been forced into servitude.

Sorcery was the art of the second sight.

There was a vehicle parked right in front of the large oaken door which served as the entrance, a long, black car – modified for both comfort and utility – guarded by two young men, their sunglasses and black suits standing in stark contrast to their surroundings. It was a ludicrous precaution – there was no one within miles who could hijack the car –, but they were corpse-bound spirits: once-living guardians, probably possessing a small amount of magical talent themselves, who were sacrificed so their bodies could be turned into autonomous familiars. Stronger than any human, they still had all the skills painstakingly developed when living but were now loyal to the grave and beyond. They were capable of little independent thought, however; in the absence of any other command from their master, they must have been simply following standing instructions.

A gentle breeze blew, lifting the fog over reality’s eyes, and where before there was a wolf now stood a silver-haired man; the change had taken place so quickly it was as if it had never happened at all. The man was tall and powerfully built, naked but for a wolf-pelt tied around his waist, and he had more than a hint of something wild and primal to his bearing even now. If he felt the assault of the cold and wind, none of it reached his eyes or manner as he studied the targets.

Sorcery was the art of transformation.

A wild wind blew, and the man struck, swift and merciless as the whims of the gods; the bodies hit the ground, robbed of even their mockery of life with but a touch. Using magic in such a way was risky – even without drawing on the environment’s magical energy, it was difficult to hide it among the spirits’ unrest –, but more efficient than killing them with his own hands; what magic had done, it could also undo.

Sorcery was the art of killing.

He ignored the lifeless husks, pitiful morsels that they were, and turned to the stone fort, measuring its defences even as his heart beat with the sound of thunder; he hungered for more. He was a sorcerer, but also a warrior, and none chosen by the Corpse-Father could not love the storm of swords. But no – above all, he was a king. The feeding of the wolves, the spilling of the wine of ravens, those were necessary to forge a crown – steel was best tempered in blood –, but they were only necessary measures. He would not climb on a mountain of corpses to reach the heavens.

Sorcery was the craft of power, but also the art of deluding oneself.

[SpoonyViking]

And here's the teaser for the second chapter of A Rondo of Fools! The full chapter can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43...ters/110069061.

***

Act II - Pianissimo

The two men walked through the woods in complete silence except for Sinfjötli’s growls whenever his ill-fitting clothes, already damaged from the fight back at the Krowler manor, ripped some more. Casimir looked troubled, but if he did have any concerns, he voiced none of them; instead, he simply walked along, trying hard to focus on the wild, untrodden path and not on the hero just ahead of him.

The Zaleski family and its magical traditions descended from Magyar shamans; even though they turned their back on their duties as healers and protectors, they kept the stories and legends of their people – not for learning or inspiration (for what use did magi have for such things?), but to discern the sorcerous secrets of the past. Casimir grew up with the stories of Emese, the great queen who gave birth to a falcon’s dream-child; of Göncöl, who spoke the languages of the beasts; of Kampó and his body of ice, and many others. Back when he researched the highest class of summoned beings, the Heroic Spirits, as part of an ill-fated attempt to participate in a Holy Grail War ritual himself, he scarcely could fathom how one of those heroes of legend would be like.

He certainly did not expect someone who growled like a dog as his body nearly burst from stolen clothes that were too tight for him.

For a moment, he felt light-headed as the absurdity of the situation hit him in full, and he was tempted to laugh like he never had before, to just let go of every semblance of reason and sanity; instead, he just walked. More than ever, he needed to maintain a clear head: there was a thought that kept burrowing its way inside his mind, a thought all the more poisonous by how desperately he wanted it to be true:

‘I’m free.’

[SpoonyViking]

And here's the teaser for the third chapter of A Rondo of Fools! The full chapter can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43...ters/110705635.

***

Act III - Mezzo-Forte

A small farmhouse in Sweden, a few kilometres away from Ystad. Several days ago, when the afternoons were still long enough that the sun lasted halfway into the night.

Helenyi’s veins burned even as she felt like her insides were slowly freezing, and she paced around the room to distract herself from the pain. She wanted nothing more than to simply lie down and let it all wash over her but knew she could not: Guillaume stood right outside, and Krystaletta was doubled over in the house’s single bedroom, bearing most of the brunt of feeding magical energy to Caster. It fell to Helenyi to…

She briefly closed her eyes. It only made sense – Saber and Caster had defeated Rider at the Ale’s Stones and were even now fighting for control of the Grail, the last two Heroic Spirits standing; Guillaume only had to kill her, and Caster would lose his anchor to the material world, ensuring Saber’s victory. She and Krystaletta – no, she made a mistake when she failed to secure a safer, less exposed hideout. That they had been forced to abandon their first refuge by Rider’s and the Hexenhaus family’s attacks was not a factor.

She took a deep breath and straightened herself out; she would be damned if she let Guillaume see any weakness. She drew the sword Froberge but kept it pointed downwards as she turned to face the door, preparing herself for the attack that was surely to come.

Helenyi waited, her muscles tensed in anticipation, but nothing happened. After a few seconds, she felt both confused and wary. Was he preparing a spell of some kind to use against them from the outside? To the best of her knowledge, he did not know any magic that could be used at range, but sorcery was a game of secrets; it would be foolish to assume she knew everything he could do. She started to run outside, ready to take the initiative from him, but immediately stopped as she heard the door handle turn.

Guillaume Albion de Laval opened the door and stepped inside. He looked strangely self-conscious and unsure of himself; Helenyi could not remember the last time she saw him like that. After a moment’s hesitation, he closed the door, and she could almost see the moment when he mentally slapped himself for that. She could sympathise; Guillaume’s actions felt both comical and overly serious, like a kid attempting to act out Oedipus Rex or King Lear. They knew they were about to kill each other; what did small gestures of politeness matter?

‘Perhaps he wants to put this off as much as I do.’

She quashed the thought, angry at what she viewed as her cowardice. Outwardly, she made sure to present only the courteous façade one would expect of a proper magus – but the deception felt like icy venom in her veins.

“Welcome, Guillaume,” she said, her voice perfectly composed. “It’s been some time since we last saw each other.”

There was another brief flash of hesitation on Guillaume’s part, but then he nodded and replied, once more the familiar picture of self-assurance:

“It has, Helenyi. Thank you for receiving me; I’m sorry I haven’t brought you anything.”

They both grimaced, Guillaume even more than Helenyi – he knew the words had been too much, that they had turned what should have been a simple exchange of pleasantries into a farce. The silence that followed felt like a burden to Helenyi, worse than the drain on her magical energy she still felt as Caster’s and Saber’s fight continued, and she tried to think of something, anything to fill it… But instead, Guillaume sighed, looked down at the floor, and finally spoke from the heart:

“I’m no good at this.”

She was taken aback for a moment, but then allowed herself to smile ever-so-slightly as she nodded. “That’s true. You’re always so stoic that I don’t think anyone else ever noticed it, but we always could tell you felt uncomfortable with other people.”

He smiled, too, but it did not reach his eyes. “Yes. Hêlal liked to tease me about that, the jerk.”

Helenyi’s smile fell. She struggled for a moment with how she knew she had to behave and what she wanted to say – she knew she should not say it, that it would be an insult to all of them –, but could not hold back any longer when she saw the undisguised pain in Guillaume’s eyes:

“I’m sorry about Hêlal, Guillaume.” She hesitated but forced herself to continue. “I wish there had been another way.”

“But there wasn’t.”

Guillaume’s prompt reply had been spoken very softly, but his eyes struck at her like hammers as he faced her again.

“He accepted that. We all accepted that, right from the beginning: we knew we would either die or kill the ones we love.” His voice nearly broke at the end, but he angrily swatted at non-existent flies and carried on as if nothing had happened: “Just as we also have to do now. ‘To be a magus, you must walk with death.’ There’s no other way the War can end, Helenyi.”

He assumed a fighting stance and once more became the perfect warrior she had always known, all traces of grief absent. It took her a few seconds more, but finally she nodded and assumed a stance of her own, pointing Froberge’s tip at him. The relief in his eyes was immediately noticeable, even if only for a moment.

[SpoonyViking]

And here's the teaser for the fourth (and currently final) chapter of A Rondo of Fools! Unfortunately, I'm currently placing the series on an indefinite hiatus. When I started posting the fic chapters here, I fully intended to finish the story, but I realised I needed to focus my energy and attention elsewhere. I don't regret writing as far as I have, though; writing this series was fun, and writing with little planning ahead - which isn't my usual style - was something I sorely needed as I finished my dissertation back in 2021-2022.

The full chapter can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43...ters/110854080.

***

Act IV - Mezzo-Piano

Pain lanced through Helenyi’s body, a thousand burning fangs biting into her veins. Despite that, she woke not with a start, but gently, like a lover caressed by the sun’s rays, even as the venomous agony running inside her briefly washed away everything – everything but the feeling of pain.

She did not know how long she lay there, struggling to recollect her thoughts and get her breathing under control. If there was one thing for which she was thankful, one small mercy, was that the flare-up had woken her from the all-too-vivid nightmare – all-too-vivid memories – of that day.

She allowed herself a groan as she remained unmoving in bed, trying not to think of how viscerally uncomfortable it felt as the sheets clung to her skin from the dried sweat. She was growing more used to the constant pain by the day, but that sort of physical indignity still galled her, especially in moments like that, when she felt her body no longer belonged to her.

‘Is this how you felt as your magic destroyed your body, Hêlal?’

It was worse without the trappings of home to help keep her grounded: she and Krystaletta now resided in an old Hexenhaus mansion somewhere on the outskirts of the village of Kåseberga, attended to and protected by Hexenhaus servants and bodyguards. In the family’s ongoing power struggle, the faction that supported Krystaletta for the future leadership of the clan had leveraged her victory in the Ystad Grail War into enough influence that they could now provide the two survivors with shelter while they initiated peace talks with the opposing faction.

It had been a fortunate turn of events, as the two of them desperately needed shelter after the fighting had ended, but it also meant they were entirely dependent upon their Hexenhaus allies. Even Krystaletta, usually much more concerned with her occult research than politics, was savvy enough to understand the precariousness of their position; to Helenyi, the situation was close to unbearable – as if she were once again under the thumb of the Krowler family, sword of Damocles ever poised to strike.

She finally rose, grimacing as she felt the sheets coming unstuck, and walked to the window to pull open the curtains. She looked at the sea of darkness outside, the moonlight barely breaking through. One quick look at the old wind-up clock on the mantel confirmed what she already knew: there was still at least an hour until sunrise, probably two.

She sighed in frustration; it had been some time since she had a full night’s sleep. After the battle, Krystaletta had crafted for Helenyi a Magic Crest out of fragments of the Hexenhaus family’s Holy Grail, then grafted it onto her Magic Circuits, the pseudo-nerves which allowed magi to glimpse the mysteries of the supernal reality and conjure their sorceries. Thanks to those modifications, where before Helenyi’s magical energy had flowed as water dripping from a leaky faucet, it now rushed like a torrential river in monsoon season. With that power, she could finally attempt to save her family from being trampled by the relentless march of time.

Power always came at a price, however, even power granted by a false miracle from a false cornucopia. The agony to which all magi submitted themselves – running the blood of unreality in their bodies for the power to recompose the world – was now her constant companion, more faithful and truer than any knight had ever been to his lady.

Helenyi smiled wryly to herself. ‘You did warn me there would be a cost to bear, Krystaletta,’ she thought. ‘The golden apples of the gods are deadly to mortals, after all.’ The mirth in her eyes died, and her smile faded. ‘Even when they’ve been watered with our blood.’

[SpoonyViking]

As a curiosity, Sinfjötli giving his name as "Völsungsson" instead of "Sigmundarson" in chapter 1 is a deliberate characterisation choice.

Also, I apologise for the lack of descriptions of the characters; I first posted these chapters in Google Docs for the Questverse Discord server community, so there were accompanying pics for them. For anyone interested, these are the characters as I envisioned them, with most of them using established characters as their face claims:

First, there's Casimir Zaleski. I used Doctor Strange's depiction in the 2007 animated movie.


Then there's Karl Nikolai Krowler. I used Nergal Meslamstea, from the second Lords of Shadow Castlevania game.


Helenyi Grimmelda Zaleski. I used concept art of Ivy, from the Soulcalibur series - and specifically concept art, not in-game one. No huge bazongas or S&M wear for Helenyi.


Krystaletta Aslög Hexenhaus. I used concept art of Viola, from Soulcalibur V.


Guillaume Albion de Laval. I used official art of King, from the Art of Fighting series (King also shows in The King of Fighters, but she looks more feminine there; since Guillaume is a trans man, King's art from AoF felt more fitting).


As a curiosity, this is Hêlal Noctifer Finstern, Guillaume's boyfriend; he's mentioned in the story proper, but doesn't show up himself. I used official art of Krizalid, from The King of Fighters.


As another curiosity, this is the image I used for the Serpent-Skins in the third chapter. The pic is official art of the Neo-Viper soldiers from the live-action G.I. Joe movies.


This is Sinfjötli, the Caster of Fools (yes, I wanted to use a fancy title like the Pseudo-Singularity Servants have). I originally used DC Comics's Beowulf - specifically the New 52 version - as his FC before commissioning our very own Castor to draw him. If you're interested, I highly recommend Castor's work - he's awesome!


As a final curiosity: when I decided to put the series on an indefinite hiatus, I had a rough outline of how the story would proceed, and one of the things that was going to happen was that Krowler was going to summon his own Servant to attack Helenyi, Casimir et al: Sinfjötli, but specifically as a Saber. I also commissioned Castor to draw Saber!Sinfjötli, and you can see the result above.

Thank you for reading! Even if you've only read the teasers, I hope it was enjoyable!