Louis married Clémence of Hungary in August of 1315, the couple being jointly crowned at the occasion. Thanks to the various conflicts that arose at the onset of such a young king, he received the nickname “the Quarrelsome.”
That fighting spirit all but abandoned him when he noticed that his own wife was secretly plotting his murder with some of his advisors.
He was young, but even a young king could understand the whispers that the wind carried. He understood that this was a world in which humans were not more important than an unmoving crown. But contrary to his own best advices, he still thought of Margaret... And maybe, this was all a deserving punishment. Maybe he truly deserved to die—no, maybe he wanted to die and leave France to fend for itself.
Or maybe he was just weak after all. Still, in the end, a France that took her away maybe wasn’t so worthy to fight for, he thought.
Then, just like he once did, he averted his eyes from the truth yet again when
they invited him for a friendly hunt. He averted his eyes when he drank a poisonous chalice offered by his wife. He averted his eyes and peacefully allowed conflit to ravage his land, a war that would go on and on for a
Hundred Years' War
hundred years
.
He gave up and even right now did not even had the decency to feel guilty about it.
—It was only natural, then, that he’d understand the wayward princess. For is a world that takes and takes, until there’s nothing else to be taken, truly worth fighting for?
“That’s not for you to decide.” The voice declares, and it almost makes Louis smile inward.
“Still, I don’t understand... Even with all the help of a Grail, by trying to forcefully connect to the sacred tree—she’ll not make it. She’s dying, and I’m sure she knows it... Why won’t she stop?”
That seemed exceedingly obvious to Louis, so obvious that he heard himself say,
“Because she doesn’t want to.”
“But why...?”
“She hates being alive. She hates her pain, she hates herself... She wants to destroy herself.”
He said that about her, but he could be talking about that small, weak self of his memories.
“But isn’t there anything we can do?”
“There is.”
“What?”
“We could watch her die, make sure she will not go alone—”
To avert his eyes once more and watch everything burn... Is it truly a weakness to allow such a filthy world to disappear? Is it truly weak to decide that life should not go on? Maybe it wasn’t very heroic of him to say that he understood the villain...
But that would be his weak self’s answer.
And if he was here in this world once more, it was because hope would bloom in his heart against his will again and again. Because he was so weak he could not even properly despair.
Because right here, he heard a man’s dying wishes and thought of how those were a mirror of his own's, once upon a past—
“—But we’re not doing that... So, Gaston, the only thing we can do then is to save her.”
Louis of Navarre
— IN WINDLESS LANDS, THE ADAMANT GALE —
[ ♫ ]
Class: Stranger
Other Classes: —
Alignment: Neutral Good
Origin: Historical Fact
Height: 190 cm | 6'3''
Weight: 81 kg | 178 lbs
Natural Enemy: Philip IV
Attribute: Human
Traits: Servant, Pseudo-Servant, Male, King, Living Human, Humanoid, Brynhildr’s Beloved, Weak to Enuma Elish
STRENGTH: C
 |
AGILITY: D
 |
ENDURANCE: D+
|
MANA: D
|
LUCK: D
|
NOBLE PHANTASM: D+
|
A member of the French royal family, count Gaston of Orleans started his career in the Military School of Segovia, in Spain, at the onset of the second Republic, a few years after his family abdicated during the February Revolution. When Spain declared war on Morocco, he was sent as a subordinate officer and there acquired a certain military prestige that followed him back home when the conflict ended.
Such prestige—coupled, of course, with the fact that his uncle was a close relative to the Emperor—could be the reason why he received an invitation to attend a party in the Brazilian court and meet the young princess who lived there.
When they met, the fire did not consume them both. Rather it was as if they were bathed in the light of a gentle, shimmering candlelight. Raised in rigidity, the count was used to a certain show of strength that the princess did not possess—instead, her strength was of an unknown, quiet type, as if she was fire herself. She had shown him trees and flowers, streets and shops, the poor and the rich, and he knew all of those things yet it seemed as if he was seeing them for the first time all over again.
It had been just very easy to fall in love with the place called Brazil through her eyes, to the point that their marriage seemed almost like a pointless formality.
As the new prince consort, he was aware his duties were about maintaining the prestige of the Imperial family, however some would say that he’d be against all of that by merely existing. No matter how much he tried to contribute to military matters and social services equally, the court never saw with good eyes the presence of an outsider in their ranks, especially one that had such a close bond with their future empress—and soon, her every decision had been put in question. How much of it was influenced by her husband? How much of the best interests of Brazil an outsider could hold?
It would be a lie to say that he had noticed that pale flame trembling—and that would be his greatest regret. The princess was so bright that even her darkness shone.
And so, by her own hands, their empire and legacy crumbled into dust. Downfall came for their family, in the end.
But before it could ravage their entire future——
A King With no Kingdom D++
At the height of his life, Louis of Navarre popularized the design of indoor fields, for he was an avid sports player with little tolerance for the sun.
As a Servant, such achievement went to be sublimated into a Skill that creates an encased territory that is advantageous to himself. But rather than the forceful imposition of a world texture of his own, what he creates is 「a series of coincidences that will always benefit him for as long as he and a foe will share the same battlefield.」
The possession of a last ember within his body which allows him to continue in this world despite grave injuries will also ensure that this Skill will also have a steady, progressively aggressive evolution, until perhaps even 「reality」 itself can be written off just to benefit him in many ways.
—That, of course, is but a theory. He’s yet to test these limitations (or lack, thereof).
Rising Rose C
Louis of Navarre lived just enough to see a victory, before drowning in defeat. He had always been plagued with the matter of Flanders, an independent region located in French territory with a strong army protecting its borders. Fighting a fight inherited from his father, he dedicated his life to the mission of taking their land, but all of his military expeditions would always turn out unsuccessful.
Just like the battle of Mons-en-Pévèle remains his only window to victory—however small and insignificant that turned out to be—the Servant who stands up in this world works in a similar fashion. A 「victory」 that will soon turn into a 「loss.」 A 「life」 that will soon turn into 「dust.」 A curse casted into someone who will always survive 「just enough to see their foe fall down, before following them into oblivion.」
And if he could sing this Skill any praise, it is precisely that—
—The promise that he will survive, at least for 「as long as the one blocking his way is also breathing.」
And so, the last embers of a once great star lies dormant within this body, waiting for the day it will be awaken. Until then, it grants him just enough strength to keep existing in this world no matter the challenge that awaits for him.
Maybe, this tenacity could explain this Servant's existence right then and there, as before the flames of the end could engulf their future, the dying prince prayed for salvation.
Not for him—never for him—but for the girl who, once, in the silence of the night, gave him a part of herself and pleaded for him to keep it safe from her own madness. If she knew, deep down, since that day that this would eventually happen, then it was just his fault for being so blind to all the signals. He deserved to perish for this display of ignorance.
But she—
And so there they were, in the eye of the storm.
Time stood still as red consumed the borders of the Singularity, as if it was a sheet of paper suspended over flames, only to be slowly dissolving.
Chaldea. He could feel their presence—he was so sure they were coming.
Just as sure as he was at the fact they would surely exterminate the one creating this stain in their world. And that was a future he’d never allow to exist.
Yet, he could feel the life being sapped out of this human body little by little, his own meek Saint Graph crushed under that abyssal pressure, the only thing holding it together for so long being a headstrong Skill which forbade them from dying as of now.
If not even a Servant could withstand these flames for too long, what could be said about a half-formed Phantom as himself? He, someone who hasn’t been able to even become a proper Heroic Spirit, something that was not much more than a lingering regret given shape and a name thanks to the dying wishes of a prince?
Yet, he dared not to think of the end... No, he had no
right to ever think like that, not now.
“We have one chance.” He declared.
“Yes.” That body also knew this much.
He touches the cocoon which entombed the wayward princess, the pulsating mass of fire contaminating the world around them, and immediately his body begins to crumble. His mind shatters. There’s power in powerlessness, or so he heard, but still there was just so much it could achieve.
Above him, the blue—what remains of the blue, mottled as it is with deep red scars that are leeching the color from their surroundings. Above him, the blue falters.
Vessel of the Coral Branch A
A Sacred Tree establishes the 「logic」 through which the environment surrounding it functions. And so, for every night when the
burns, from within its flames the New World is birthed anew. When Pedro II and the rest of the Imperial family were chased away from their homeland, its last embers flared and died, giving way to the Age of Mankind and sealing the downfall of their domain over Brazil.
—Such was the wish of the Beastling of Freedom.
However, perhaps sensing the impending doom she was about to bring to her own land—perhaps, against her better judgment, still feeling love and pity for her subjects deep down—the princess of sin left behind one last seed of hope.
“There’s not much time... Please, heed my words... From now on, no matter what I say and what I do—I need you to keep this safe.”
It was said that, birthed from the purest branches of the Divine Trees, the original gods roamed the Free World. However, when the princess left behind one small ember of her empire inside of her husband, just like one day her father had done the same to her, no god was born that day. Instead, from the flames, the small roots of
spread.
“Do not ever give this back to me, not until you deem me ready. I will trust your assessment—after all, you know me better than anyone.”
Slowly, within that body grew the little Coral Branch,
. Not a Divine Tree, not a Sacred Tree—an offshoot, something disguised as a true branch, something entirely new that even himself wasn’t sure exactly what it was, what it could be one day. But that was just like prince Gaston, eternally an offshoot of the Imperial family, something disguised as a creature born from Brazil, even though his love for that land was anything but a fake.
But that did not matter—since when the prince accepted that duty, he made a vow. The world could burn away and their authority could vanish in the wind, but just like the spirit which gave the small branch its name, he would never allow that flame to go extinguished.
While Gaston of Orleans lived, then no matter how many times someone would blow away the fire, the Empress of Brazil would, too, live.
After all—
“All this time, I kept it safe for you.”
| — |
The End of Paradise
Le Roi Maudit |
— |
He’s tired, he’s spent. There’s lead seeping through his veins—cracks forming along the surface of his core.
But Louis won’t let it end, not like that. Not
again. And so, inside that Noble Phantasm, the world is holding its breath for now.
The quietness of a dying world surrounds them. It is in this frozen piece of time that all the regrets of the princess of sin are born—for this is his ultimate trump card, that which spirits would call a Noble Phantasm. She brought them there, and now they were to look into her bare heart.
In his last moments, Louis did not remember every one of his battles. He paid no attention to the crown—or the head who should wear it next. He did not even think of his wife’s name, the woman who slipped poison in his cup. The only thing in his mind as his life flickered was Margaret. Would he see her on the other side? Would she forgive him, when he never forgave himself? Would she be happy if he confessed he did not live a single day after the one in which he heard she perished in her prison?
Death is infinite quietness from which one can never return. But he rejected even this notion, and so this ability was born. And if each person has one of these moments—the moment they make their whole past and future, that very second they regret for the rest of their lives, the moment that shapes everything they were—if each person has a moment that is both their 「birth」 and their 「death,」 then he would remind them of it, every single time. He would freeze them in time, much like the world around him is frozen.
With the last embers of a sacred branch resonating with the scarlet void, he accessed her memories. But he didn’t need the memories of prince Gaston to know what it is that the princess regrets the most—he could smell the brim, the sea, he could see his back, too. Emperor Pedro II, with a light so great that it created an equally large shadow. In that darkness, the princess followed him until she was unable to continue, and after that...
Downfall.
The birth of a self-made monster was as simple as it was understandable. All the answers could be found there, just like he found his own in that person’s memory.
Once upon a time, Margaret had gifted him life in a sky of the purest blue, and purest blue will be the memories Louis would have liked to give her in turn. But she’s not here, not anymore—not anywhere. She wasn’t a hero, she had moved on, and even him was but a pale whisper until the wish of a dying man came to his ears.
And what a lovely wish that was. Not to give her back that which she had given to him, not to save her from herself, or to save their country from her... No, prince Gaston just really wanted to see his princess again.
Because she was worthy, and he had something of hers that he had to give back, no matter what. He promised he’d give her back one day.
“You’ll die if you give up on that last ember.” Louis reminds that body.
But the prince never thought of it like that. Instead, he had always believed she would deserve that branch one day one way or another—she had always been headstrong. And so, he was not afraid of what had to happen for it to return to her. And Louis could understand that feeling, so intensely that it called for him.
So, he accepts their fates, touching the sleeping monster in a cradle of fire.
“He kept it safe for you all this time. But how will he give it back to you, princess, if you die here?”
He knows how easy it is to be convicted that the world would be better off without you on it.
He knows how easy it is to come to the conclusion that the pain of living day by day is worse than the pain everyone else will feel when they learn you’ve died.
It is easy to think one is a waste, a big mistake, or simply not made to live a proper life like everyone else seems to do so easily—maybe, they’re simply fated to be unhappy in this life and in every subsequent life after this.
—How easy it is to think so nonchalantly, “I need death.”
“Ah, but princess, 「to need」 is such an interesting sentence.” Or so Louis believes, after looking his wasteful life into the eyes and accepting it for the miracle and the mistake it was.
“After all, it implies longing—it implies you’re longing for something. And if we fill this empty longing with something, it can almost look like it’s actually meaningful... It almost makes the pain go away. But maybe, the problem is that you’re still longing, and not that you’re aiming to fill this void in the first place. Maybe, somewhere out there, exists a life you’re longing to live.”
In the silence of his Noble Phantasm—that thing which stopped time just enough so that he could touch the fire—his spirit finally breaks apart and his thoughts drift away like dust in the wind. He feels the fire pulsating, small and warm like a heartbeat, he feels it touching his fingertips and concedes this isn’t exactly a bad way to go. He sees a girl looking at him with eyes filled with grief and a heart heavy with guilt, and she’s calling his name. He laments that he’s so weak that he’ll just add to her pain now.
He thinks of a princess who wished to live even if that’s sinful. And he thinks of how that’s the only way anyone can make up for those who are already gone... He knows it too well...
He takes a moment with his eyes closed against the blinding white of transition, welcoming the impressions of the space he knows is forming inside of his heart—a soft breeze rustling against a silky dress, sun-kissed skin warm against the light.
He wants to believe—he wants so fiercely to believe this is truly happening.
In the silence, for a moment he thinks of prince Gaston, of the princess of his dreams—of whatever could’ve happened to them after his demise. He recognizes the void inside of him in which the last embers of a scarlet tree once rested—and then he frowns. There’s nothing in front of him, and yet he can feel her presence.
Louis never knew which of them first shaped this place behind his eyelids, whether it was his own desire for comfort or an attempt on Margaret’s memory to make him comfortable, but now it feels as if it might have been both. There’s a swell of joyful anticipation in his chest and he finds himself fighting down the parts of it that are too childish, like the hope to be greeted with a pair of open arms.
“I’m home.” He wants to declare, but...
He knows this is ultimately just a lie—that Margaret has moved on, somewhere outside of his reach.
Instead, what calls for him is a fragment of light as bright as the fragment of fire.
A memory surfaces, something from so long ago it might not even be his own. A memory of someone on the verge of death and a simple wish. A memory that compells parts of him into being, slowly coaxing them to join, to become whole—
—He knows that light. It is hope, always and always blooming. With a resigned smile, Louis touches it.
“W-what do you mean, the best part is yet to come? D-do people really expect this sort of thing in these presentations? —Oh goodness, alright... If that is how Romans do in Rome...”
"Zhang Sanfeng"
(Scotcheroos)
“Ah, that caught me by surprise! The plottwist... Is this common? The whole Pretender thing, I mean?
—O-oh, I mean, I didn’t mean to pry... I just thought that of all the things I thought could’ve called me back, certainly such a gathering wasn’t on my list... Then again—there will be strength found here that will not be found anywhere else. It is as he said, even worms have their pride. I, for one, cannot wait to greet more comrades.”
Phillip IV
(BoktaiMoon)
“Gaston says he’s a walking tumor of vainglory, a stain in France’s history. Those are some strong opinions, and I even try to find words to defend him—he’s my father, I mean—but... Maybe, if this is how the world remembers him, then the prince is right...”
Louis XIV
(NittyGritty)
“Oh... As I’m learning, my successors have quite the lively reputation... Mayhaps I am the real outlier amongst the King Louises.”
Boi-Bumbá
(pinetree)
“They’re beautiful. I don’t speak physically, of course they’re pleasing to the eyes, but I’m taking of something else... 「A place for everyone that manages to bring people together despite every adversity...」 That was Gaston’s dream, and was my dream too—however, and you can call me naïve, I don’t think you need to be a hero to make sure the world can be good.”
Maria Leopoldina
(Wyvern)
“Even before knowing of our little adventure, she had embraced me and her son-in-law as children of her own womb without any hesitation, just like she did with any citizen of her Empire... I must admit it even caught me off-guard. That’s a level of abnegation I’m sure us mere humans would merely dream of achieving one day...”
Zumbi dos Palmares
(Morg van Destro)
“His words might sound harsh to others, but I think they are just overwhelmingly pure—just like his sense of justice. I know he hates me for merely existing, but I cannot even blame him... I can only think that if the world could truly understand what he had to say, it would be a much fairer place.”
Miguel I
(Master_Therion)
“I’m not a hero, but a wisp of endless regret—and the same can be said of him, except he’s a phantom of resentment. It’s rather sad we can’t reach an agreement as fellow fallen kings... It seems he can 「smell something Brazilian in me,」 or something like that...”
Douma Houshi
(YoungMeme)
“Are the Pretenders all like this...? Actually, yes? Oh, that’s—
—I-I mean, what I tried to say is that this is just a very sad affair overall. Much like a child should be allowed to grow up beyond the shadow of one’s progenitor, this one should still be allowed to be its own being... Even though the future that is set in stone for him is so dreadful.”
Motojiro Kanji
(jishara)
“So, could you please elaborate on the safety protocols in this place... Oh? Nothing much, I was just thinking that young man is...”
Doreal (Servantverse)
(Baron Magnus)
“I have many questions about that Servant and everything he represents, but the most pressing of them is: what exactly is a THOT? Each time I say it out loud, I can hear someone snickering.”
Tess Durbeyfield
(FarewellToMrA)
“As a fellow child of misfortune, the only thing I can say about that little one is that hope is a cruel thing to us, weak beings—it keeps coming back, even as a shadow, even as a dream. I was under the impression this opportunity could be one of respite for heroes, but we all have our own particularities, I suppose.”
The Reaper System
(TrueMrUniverse)
“I shudder at the idea of what that lady could’ve done in the Brazilian singularity against us had we not intervened in time—but as fellow Servants fighting for the same cause, I can now simply appreciate that strength... I mean, purifying viruses... It’s a fascinating concept, isn’t that right?”
Tutankhamun
(Verse)
“Ah, I thought this gathering that celebrated the weak could be a good opportunity for some to have a much-needed taste of acclamation, but to be called against one’s will is just...”
Francisco de Asís Tárrega Eixea
(DracoScribe)
“What a beautiful melody... If I close my eyes, it even feels almost as if that music can talk to me—as if saying that things will be fine. If a sadness confronts me larger than any I may have ever known, casting its shadow over all I do... Then everything I have to do is to remember that life hasn’t forgotten me, it still holds me in its hand and will not let me go.”
Isabel
“Ah, the princess? I said many times this wasn’t necessary, but it seems she thinks she has a debt with me and waits for the day this tab will be cleared. The road to where the fire sleeps is long...
Then I thought I wouldn’t cross any line and asked the princess what she and Gaston did to bring me back to the world, but both seem quite tight-lipped in this regard for some reason. They definitely had something to do with my summoning in this event, I’m sure of it. However, I do feel that ember’s warmth in this body, so she gave the Coral Branch back for us to safekeep... It seems, then, that me and Gaston’s mission is far from over...”
Pedro II
(Wyvern)
“A great light that casts a much greater shadow behind him—I know his type. Gaston and Isabel both have nothing but compliments for mr. Pedro, and I even enjoy hearing about his tales from time to time, but... Am I being unfair in feeling a bit iffy at his memory if it hurts my friends this much? I know it’s not his fault he had to sacrifice himself, but...
—Oh, I guess family matters are just always so complicated, no matter the time and place.”
HOLY SHIT I DID IT.
This sheet is in my stash for like, one year or something already. It was truly now or never.
Anyway, remember when I teased him as a Shielder in the Guess a Servant thread and then Random created the Stranger class and destroyed all my best laid plans? Good times. That class was simply made for this Servant I had no power over this decision. And maybe this is more of a Le Rois Maudits!Louis than a historical!Louis if anything BUT WHAT CAN I DO those books are fire, they're like GOT before GOT was invented.
Anyway, I studied the bladeWyvern's and Rey's style of sheeting (lmao) for the longest time for this one, because the way they weave a story and disguise it as a Servant sheet is just *chefs kiss* sublime and this is one of those times, where this is a story first, a sheet second... And I don't know if it's exactly an engaging experience because of it, but DAMN IF I TRIED. This is absolutely smeared all over with my blood and sweat and it was even longer, I hope the text wall isn't too daunting for some.
Since this is a story and a sheet all in one, some particularities might be lost in translation, but basically the only things he's good at is to be a roach and don't die very easily. It's not that he's invincible, but merely that everything will work to "make sure he at least see his enemy perish before going down too", sort of a suicide-type servant that also saps HP from an enemy, if I had to imagine this as a FGO mechanic. His NP is also all about making people face the worst memory of their lives and reflect on how much that actually sucked and if they can go beyond that, and if they can, cool. If they can't... Welp.
Certainly could have been explained better? Sure thing it could. But the sheet was already SO BIG. I had to trim words. It is what it is.
Anyway, you know the drill: don't ever come to Brazil. It's a mess.
Thank you y'all!
P.S.: MAN THESE ENTRIES THEY'RE SO GODDAMN PRECIOUS. Just like Draco, I just HAD to get this out of my system, but now that's done, I can prorperly read and hopefuly give a big comment to each entry... I hope... Late stage capitalism had me overwhemingly busy lately...
Originally Posted by Scotcheroos
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