First Bolt Shell: Legion of One

[greyerrant]

Characters: Garviel and you
Setting: Multiple floors
Format: Prose
Summary: Garviel wanders the tower doing various things including kicking butt
Warnings: Anything is possible including a heck of a lot of violence. Definitely descriptions of blood and war.



Floor Fifty-Six:

A huge armored figure is wandering the strange hospital ward, as if seeking something he has forgotten. He calls a name every now and then.
"Ferrus? Samus? Aqua? Nikolai? Arturia?"

Nothing but silence greets him. Lights flicker as he moves from room to room, a grey ghost of a battle that was fought in this very tower, and on a thousand other worlds as well. And yet... there is something plaintive in the sounds of the names he calls out in this place.

Floor Sixty-Seven (NIGHT)
The strange twining staircase has become a veritable waterfall of gore, blood and ichor slicking the steps from iron to light in all hues as the sound of battle crashes higher up. It would appear Cerberus set upon a band of orcs at night, or the band set on him, and he decided to single-handedly re-enact the battle of Ullanor. He holds one aloft, just over the edge of the stairs, his armor scarred by their cleavers and bows, then casts it down, smashing it into a pulpy, broken mass onto the stairs itself. His armored chest heaves, and he turns, growling in an almost-feral manner as he continues his ascent. Dare you approach?

Floor Twenty-Five: The grey knight stands vigil in the meadow, his massive form suggesting a grim sentinel in an otherwise beautiful place. He appears to be... shocked by it. Completely at a loss of what to do in a place of undespoiled natural beauty which has not been touched by war.

Floor Fifteen: A pale-skinned man one size too large to be human appears to be working dents out of a breastplate using the tools available in the workshop, hammering away at them in a less then adept manner. It would seem he has only enough skill to effect the most basic repairs on his own armor. Care to offer him some advice?

Comments

Floor 56

[scorchedchivalry]

[Saber hadn't found this floor to be anything to bother with. In fact, she wouldn't have even stopped at it if she had not heard an all-too-familiar name drifting to her as she passed the door.

Stepping inside, she assumed the armored being was calling for her other self. In a dress of black and unarmored, Saber stopped inside the door.]

I do not believe you will find her here.

[As Saber couldn't sense the presence of her other self on the floor.]

herp derp sorry

[greyerrant]

I had... thought as much.

[ His massive shoulders sag, not so much from disappointment as acceptance that he is alone here. ]

I have not seen them in some time, almost a month, now.

[ He pauses for a moment, eyeing Saber. ]

Thank you for your help. You know.... Samus, Arturia, or Aqua then?

[scorchedchivalry]

[Saber was silent for a long moment before answering.]

Look at me, warrior.

[She raised her head, eyes - though pale yellow instead of green - level and unyielding. Saber knew that she looked different than she once did, but she also knew she WAS recognizable.]

And answer your own question.

[greyerrant]

You....

[ He looks down at her, and is taken aback for a moment, and says. ]

No, it is wrong. She was younger. The eyes are wrong... She was a child to whom I taught the sword. You...

You hold yourself as though you have seen a long war. Or many of them.

[scorchedchivalry]

Many. Including the loss of my own kingdom and betrayals uncountable.

You must speak of the girl with my name that wishes to be a knight that was amongst the visitors from a few months ago. I am not her, but one day she could become me depending on the choices she makes.

I go by the name Saber. I prefer you not to use my true name.

[greyerrant]

I... Understand. [ He reaches up, removing his helm to show his face, still bearing healing, livid pink scars, and grey eyes that meet hers with a look that is hard to pin down. It would seem many emotions war in the last Luna Wolf. ]

It would seem that I do speak of her, yes. [ He nods, slightly, aware of the possibility of such time paradoxes. ]

Then you have my word that I shall always address you as Saber. But I have you at something of a disadvantage, and one that my honor must address. My name is Garviel Loken, though I will ask you to address me as Cerberus, for that is the name I have taken for myself.

[ He closes his right fist, placing it over his chest near his heart, and says. ]

My oath of moment to you then, Saber. I only regret I cannot write it on paper and seal it to my armor at present.

[scorchedchivalry]

Cerberus. [She nods.] Your word will suffice. I am a knight and a king, so until I am given reason to think otherwise, I will see your word as honorable and true as I would another knight.

I do not know what kind of warrior you are as I have never seen your style of armor before, much less a man of your size [Seriously, he was bigger than Rider], but I can tell you follow a code.

[greyerrant]

[ He returns the nod ]

I am of the Legiones Astartes. Our code is to stand against the Xeno, the Daemon, and all other enemies of man. But... if you see others of my brethren, I caution you, not all of them keep it. Some are traitors, and have broken their faith and their oaths.

As for my size, I was genehanced to be as I am now. Altered so as to make the best sword and shield for humanity as it was possible to be.

[ He gestures to his armor for a moment. ]

This style is known as Mark VI corvus-pattern war plate.

[scorchedchivalry]

[The details are committed to memory.]

I thank you for the warning. One of your stature is easily identified. It is sad that so many choose to break their oaths and vows. Sometimes I wonder how many truly understand what they are swearing to when they first shoulder that burden.

[greyerrant]

[ Loken is quiet for a long time as he considers Saber's words, then finally responds. ]

I can't say how many understand it. I think... they had become too proud of their abilities and their war prowess, and forgot the purpose for it. The life of a Knight, or a ruler is that of sacrifice for those protected and ruled.

[ At least, that's what all the best books on ethics and philosophy that he's read have said, and he believes it sincerely. ]

[scorchedchivalry]

Correct. But for most that is not enough. It is a hard life to follow, and those that fully believe it without seeing the reality behind the code, the philosophy, lend themselves toward nativity and become easy for others to manipulate and betray.

[greyerrant]

And what reality is that?

[ He asks the question in a hushed tone. In this moment Cerberus is reminded of conversations with the mournival, specifically Aximand. ]

[scorchedchivalry]

That it will only lead to despair. Shackles placed upon ourselves, binding us to something that is outdated that only brings pain. Pride, honor, duty... those are all things we grasp to hide our despair as we watch the world and people change without us. Relics and remnants of the past... there is no place for us.

And to think otherwise is foolish. But that is okay. We are all fools, even when we understand the reality, because we cannot break our chains.

[greyerrant]

[ Another silence, as Cerberus digests the words of the grim, dark, future incarnation of Arturia. ]

The world changes, and it leaves us behind. [ He nods. That is why he no longer carries any insignia at all, no heraldry save the hidden mark of the eye upon his left pauldron. There seems to be no place for him in any world, save that which he carves for himself. ]

So why do you fight on, Saber?

[scorchedchivalry]

I fight because I have not earned the right to lay my sword down.

[greyerrant]

Only in death does duty end, and sometimes not even then.

[ A distant look plays over his features. Was he dead once? He can't say. All he knows is that he might as well have been. ]

I will fight to bring honor to the dead.

[ And just for a second, a moment's flash, the dead watch over them both. A taller figure in green plate to Cerberus' grey, of a slightly different design, smiles behind the scarred warrior before fading, his eyes full of humor and even... mischief ]

[scorchedchivalry]

A noble cause. [And it was.] But the dead do not need honor brought to them. They earned it in life or they did not.

It would do better to serve the living, not the dead.

[greyerrant]

[ He nods, chewing that over for a moment. ]

I will consider your words. But the honor I intend to bring them is to continue fighting as hard as they did in the name of humanity, against a universe that would doom and devour it.

My brothers and I gave up all hope for ourselves that mortals might know it. Thus... I feel no despair, even now.

[ Because he never felt what it was like to have hope in the first place, at least not for himself. ]

Do you serve someone, then? From what I know of your... ah, war, you likely do.

[scorchedchivalry]

I am certain there is a time in which you will. I pray that it is short in passing for you.

[She raises her head a bit as he refers to the War.]

The Arturia you knew was a Master in the Holy Grail War. What makes you think I am not the same?

[greyerrant]

Two things, actually. [ He ticks them off with two large digits on his right hand, ] One, I don't see something like the mark of a Master on you, at least nowhere visible.

The second is you refer to yourself as Saber, a class like the other Servants who introduced themselves to me.

[scorchedchivalry]

Command Seals do not need to be on the back of the hand, Cerberus. I will concede your second point. I am a Heroic Spirit of the Saber Class, and I do possess a Master.

[greyerrant]

[ Garviel nods, and is quiet. Unsure of how far he should pursue his questions on this, or if he's jumping over the line into heresy. And so, he changes the subject to one more safe for them both.]

The Arturia I knew was... a good sort. I was proud of her. [ And he misses her desperately, though he's not going to admit that to Saber. }

[scorchedchivalry]

She and I did not get along. Neither liked seeing the other as we are.

[greyerrant]

It is a hard thing to see yourself, I would imagine.

[ He essays a companionable nod, then says. ]

I would ask you a warrior to warrior. I was conveyed here without a blade, is there... any smith worthy of the name where I might procure one?

I've yet to find one.

[scorchedchivalry]

None that I am aware of. My sword is part of who I am so I have not the need for one.

There is a man that may be able to create one for you though projection, but he is not the type to be willing to do so without something to gain. What would you have to offer?