caliburnshadows-blog

[caliburnshadows-blog]

Mirror Image  // Fate/Grand Order

So as I was writing this, I was thinking:

‘wait fsn bedi doesn't have airgetlam’

‘gasp. that means he has a flesh and bone arm because in the deen scene and in the vn he has an arm so uhhhh’

‘but wait what do his legends say there has to be a source I can use to explain why fsn bedi has a flESH AND BLOOD ARM because I swear he lost his arm in battle or smth why is this so hard to explain’

‘goddammit there's no easy source’

‘his design differs too so maybe it's just a universe thing yeah i'll just pass it off as parallel universes but that doesn't excuse the redesign even though his redesign is pretty as all hell but like why is this so hard to write’

Anyways, is is based off of A Thing @dailybedivere (apologies for tagging you again, whoops!) drew and I SCREAMED when I say it because like???? Yes???? But parallel hijinks aside I was really excited when I saw the art because I never thought about it even though my brain is in the clouds about 99.99% of the time when it ISN'T SUPPOSED TO BE so yeah. I wrote a thing. Yay.

@dailybedivere I hope you like it!! I love Bedi soooo much and your doodles Give Me Life djjsdhsn I hope I wrote Bedi well because I'm still trying to find my writing voice after 2+ years of Being Lazy About Literally Everything Art Related aha;;

I need to practice a lot more >.>;;;;

“Are you…”

“... Me?”

The Knight looked at himself, sea-green eyes meeting brown ones, the light of cautious curiosity reflecting back at him. He was sure that the other felt the same way. He raised his right arm and tilting his head. The other Knight did the same.

The sensation was like looking into a mirror.

There were differences, of course- namely, the other Knight lacked Airgetlam, his silver, shining arm. Bedivere's heart ached. Had he followed his King's orders without disobeying him? What if he, himself, had done so? Would they have been the same? Subconsciously, he clenched his right fist, bringing the other's attention to it.

Instead of asking about it, as he partially expected, (why had he expected the other Knight to ask? If he and the other were truly one and the same, he certainly wouldn't ask about something so personal), the other Knight says, “You look young.”

A dry smile curls the corners of his mouth upward. “It has been fifteen-hundred years, and yet no wrinkles.”

The other man (how strange to call himself that!) visibly flinched and paled. “F-Fifteen-hundred…?!”

“Yes… over a mistake I should not have made in the first place.”

The Knight's eyes fall to the floor, nodding silently in understanding. The silence stretches out between the two Knights. Bedivere's thoughts were too loud, and he couldn't help but want to speak out against them.

“Your hair…?” He asks instead, hiding his prosthetic behind his half-cape and back. It's a start, and it's certainly much better than the oppressive silence.

“I braid it,” his mirror image admits. “It is quite long, but I cannot bring myself to cut it. Not yet.”

He turns his head, thinking. “Do you have… piercings?”

Bedivere nods with a small smile, “My ears, yes.”

The Knight's serious expression softens. “You really are me, aren't you?”

“Yes. It's quite amazing, really. I never expected to meet myself. We are the same, yet different.”

“Indeed.”

There was something that confused the other Bedivere, however. They were the same person, but were they really? This Bedivere seemed… different.

“Are you truly me?” His thoughts slipped out before he could stop them. “You do not seem very serious about your standing as a Knight.”

His words were harsher than he expected. He winced as he realized what he had just said. “I mean no disrespect, but-”

Bedivere only gives him a sheepish smile. “Ah, I do suppose that I do not appear very serious. But, trust me, I am. It's just that when I am in Chaldea, I feel as though the people there need joy.

“I have seen enough pain…” He trails off, thinking of his journey. It was so lonely, so full of regret and physical agony. He shakes his head and lifts his gaze to meet the other Knight's.

“So have I,” he says after a moment of silence. His features were a mixture of understanding and regret. “But not over a thousand-year's worth of suffering.”

A bitter smile crosses his face as he thinks back to the last time the Knights were whole. Before Sir Tristan claimed that the King had no heart. Before Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinivere were found. Before the Battle of Camlann. “Perhaps I should heed your advice.”

Bedivere smiles at his mirror image. He smile back, reaching out to clap the Knight on the shoulder. “Perhaps, but there is always an eternity to learn, yes?”

“Indeed.”

[caliburnshadows-blog]

Dungeons and Saints // fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia

I feel like Tatiana doesn’t get enough love, in general. And I do slightly feel bad for putting her through this. But, uh, I really liked to explore this sort of thing when I wrote that sort of thing. I still do, actually- it’s just that I’m both Very Lazy and... Very Lazy.

Where was she?

Tatiana blinked, sitting up and squinting in the dim light. She was surrounded by stone, and not the stone of her cozy home, that was for sure. And there were metal bars. Wait, metal bars?

She suddenly sat up, chains clinking as she did so. Panic filled her chest. “Zeke! Zeke, Zeke, help!”

Her cries echoed through the chamber. It was a rather lonesome sound. Panic turned into fear, and fear multiplied into cold dread as she dashed to the doorway... or at least as far as the chains would let her. They rattled with an ungodly noise as they dragged across the grimy floor.

“Anyone! Please, I’m in here!“ She screamed again. Nothing.

She backed up, her chest heaving. Try to calm yourself down. What did Zeke teach you about being help captive? Come on, Tatiana, think!

“Uh... uh...“ She continued to pace around her tiny cell, looking for anything that could free her. Loose stone bricks? No, no, she wasn’t strong enough for that. What could she do with a pile of brick anyways? Nails? No, that couldn’t do anything, either. There were some bones... human... bones...

Oh. Oh. Maybe it was that lout Jerome! Yeah! That totally made sense! But... none of his underlings were that silent, because even the strays kittens banging around her kitchen at ungodly hours in the morning would wake her up, despite her being a heavy sleeper. Back to square one.

Oh! There was a witch! Oh. Oh. She was taken by the witch. The very same that captured young ladies for her rituals.

Tatiana’s hands started to shake as she clasped them together in a prayer motion. Oh, Father Duma... this can’t be, can it? Please, give me your protection, I beg of you.

Okay. She’s to be a sacrifice. And she was held captive by a witch, who would use her in her rituals. Would Zeke even know where she was?

Worry blossomed in the pit of her stomach. He was across the plains, if she was where she was thinking she was.

Her thoughts started to take a darker turn. If Zeke doesn’t know where I am, then how would he rescue me? What if he tries to rescue me, but it’s too late? What if he’s killed before I get to see him again?

What if this was all my fault?

She runs her hands shakily thorough her hair. She can’t bear that thought, but in the silent, oppressive atmosphere, it seems to ring as though it had been spoken.

“Father Duma,“ She prays again. “I beg of you.. please keep Zeke safe, no matter the cost. Please give him your strength and protect him through all of the trials he’ll have to face. Please...“

A tear runs down her cheek. Be safe, my sweet Ezekiel.

[caliburnshadows-blog]

0. Prologue // Pilikia // Fire Emblem Heroes

Ironically, for avoiding Heroes for having little sustainable plot, I still seem to like it for some reason.

Pilikia actually used to be a collaboration between me and @kaiterai (the original idea being hers), but once school started for the two of us, we weren’t able to continue it any longer. She has graciously allowed me to adopt her idea and hopefully breathe life into it because I found it fun to work on.

I hope I do it justice.

It was rather cold, for what could be considered a normal summer evening. Eunji sat on the balcony attached to her apartment, watching the stars flicker in the far distance. The ambient noise from the cars driving by and the yellow glow of the streetlamps were a familiar sight. Bright blue and white neon signs flicker in the distant center of the city, barely visible from her perch. A sickly white glow looms over the area, the unnatural light only causing Eunji to close her eyes and turn her head away.

The college student shoves her hands into the pockets of her white university hoodie, fiddling with the rectangular device concealed there. Bright music drummed through her ear buds as she tried to drown out the noise from the highway outside of her apartment.

I'm failing his class, her thoughts, no matter how she tried to tune them out, kept returning to the events from this morning. I'm no good in college. Why did I come here in the first place? To let my hopes be crushed like this?

She shakes her head, flicking her black hair out of her reddish-brown eyes. Guess I’m gonna be a drop-out and live with my parents for the next forty years once this semester is over.

She turns away from the wrought from bars of her tiny balcony, knocking the plastic chair over and heading back inside and slamming the door behind her in a foul mood. Her room-mate was out clubbing, for sure. She was home alone, as always.

She sighs quietly. College was such a waste of her time. She was better off joining the workforce right after graduating, not going to a glorified high school with all the perks of being a financially unstable young adult. Unwilling to start her homework that was due in just a few short hours, Enuji searches for a distraction to ease her tense mind. Pulling out her cell phone, she opens up her apps folder and tapped on the black and gold icon. Being a fan of the game since she was little, she immediately wanted to try it for a long time once it was released in English.

Fire Emblem Heroes.

But something was wrong. Instead of the normal launch sequence, her screen was a bright white that seemed to absorb everything into its haze.

“What the…” Eunji tried to power down the device, but nothing happened. In fact, there was this… almost wind-like sound emitting from it. Swiping her finger across the screen, she was alarmed to find that her hand… Her hand was sinking into the white depths. She was being completely absorbed by the app.

Panic flutters in her chest and fear tears its ugly head as she tries to pull her hand out of the depths of the screen. Much to her ever-growing terror, she was too paralyzed to move, let alone scream for help. Enuji was tugged into the white hole, the light growing brighter and brighter… Until it completely overcame her senses.

Her senses overloaded from the light, everything quickly faded to black.

When she woke up next, she was in unfamiliar grounds, far, far away from her tiny apartment just off campus. In fact, she was in a field, of all places. The skies were blue and endless, a far cry from her little, smoky town. Lush, green grass clumped in little clusters, obviously trampled underfoot by men and horses. There were no buildings, trails, barring the flattened grass, or any sign of humanity anywhere.

Eunji breathed out a worried sigh. She was alone. Away from humanity and abandoned in such a strange land. She didn’t recognize any landmarks, had there been any. The air smelled different, even. It was clearer. Sweeter. Cleaner. The sun shone down on her pale face, causing her to squint into the bright light. Out in the distance, massive hills dotted the landscape, and even further back, she could barely make out a faint outline of mountains forests. The horizon seemed to stretch onwards forever. It was magnificent.

Oh, it was breathtaking, the sights she saw. But that still didn't solve the question: where was she?

Clank, clank.

A quiet noise brought her out of her reverie. Her question would have to wait. A black clad figure was approaching her quickly over one of the hills, with a rather shiny object in his hands. Metal clinked on metal and he rushed towards her, his grip tightening on the metal object in his hands. His lips were set in a firm line and he stared down at her through his visor. Eunji recognized that object. She could recognize that weapon anywhere, fantasy variant or no.

It was an axe. And he was going to kill her.

[caliburnshadows-blog]

The Excalibur Sage // Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia

If you know anything about me, I love Luthier. I love his personality and his design is fun and I just really like Luthier. It’s a shame he’s a poor unit in Echoes... maybe next time I play it, I’ll use the Villager’s Fork on him to make him more useful...

Luthier never was much one for small talk. Of course, he never really bothered much for it anyways, but that was besides the point. Making nice to people was all well and good, but he never truly got it. Why waste time talking when he should be studying? That was a good use of what limited time he had on this earth. Perhaps he could show his sister some sense.

He passed by one of the fruit stands. One of the ladies whispered as he passed. Was it good? Bad? Only time would tell. Not doubt that Delthea would barge into his study, chattering like a starling, about the latest gossip about him. Or others. But mostly about him.

It was a rather gorgeous day outside, actually; perfect for spell practice. At least, he won't be exploding his study with potions he brewed wrong. If I am to brew potions today, should I do them outside...?

No. No potions. He'd like his fingers intact, thank you very much.

He scurried inside, gathering his spellbooks, then hurried outside, to start practicing.

The sun beat down on his head and shoulders as he incanted over and over again, hoping that e could summon more of the raw, powerful energy he first felt when he cast his first spell. Nothing ever felt good enough. It never was enough. He had to practice more and more. Until he was every bit as powerful as his lazy sister.

He furrowed his brow as the sparks disappeared. He snaps his fingers, digging into his subconscious to perhaps summon that power.

His frown deepened as he realized he had lost his focus. What did he think of now that make him like this? He was in a secluded forest; away from civilization, and more importantly, his sister.

His sister.

With a discontented grumble, he tossed the scroll aside, letting it fall onto the stack. He ran his hands through his yellow-orange hair, mussing it up and making it stick up in weird places. He placed in place, trying to gather his thoughts to try and dispel them.

His sister. Always with his sister. He knew jealousy and spite would do nothing. It wouldn't help him or his studies. Then why did he feel this way?

He'll never be as good as her; that was certain.

But the only thing he could do was to try. He picks up the scroll again, intent on mastering this skill. He snaps his fingers once more, pleased to find that his focus has returned somewhat.

Social niceties be damned. He had work to do.

[caliburnshadows-blog]

0. Prologue // Fate/Emblem [HEROES]

Crossposted from my main blog here.

Kiran balanced on top of a stone fence, their arms spread out to balance themselves. Their hood was down, and the sun reflected off of their hair, bleaching it almost white in the bright light. Their gold and white robes flapped in the cool summer breeze. It was the perfect opportunity to be alone; to be away from the hustle and bustle of the Askrian castle-barracks that was their home. It was too stuffy, with all the Heroes bowing and scraping to them.

It was too much for a simple person such as Kiran.

“Summoner?“ Alfonse called, searching for Kiran. “Summoner, where are you?“

Kiran paused from their balancing act on the fence. They turned towards the lord’s call, an audible sigh passing through their lips.

“What is it now, Alfonse?“ They asked once the blue-haired lord caught up with them.

“Lord Sigurd was looking for you. He told me that you were supposed to assist him and his squad in the Stratums.“

Kiran frowns. “I guess I can’t have a day to myself. Oh, well.”

And then they turned and continued to walk away from the castle-barracks, their shoes clicking on the stone of the fence.

“S-Summoner!“ Alfonse reached for their sleeve to stop them. “I understand that you don’t want to lead an army, but you have a duty to Askr! I wouldn’t shirk them because of-“

Kiran jerked their arm away from Alfonse’s gloved hand. “Because of what? A childish fit that’s unbecoming of a master strategist?”

Their nostrils flared and their eyes stared down at him in annoyance. Dark bags lined their eyes, and they looked much, much older than they should have been. Their lips quivered, trying to keep their anger back, but it was all too much. all the war, death, bloodshed they’ve witnessed- it was not something Kiran wanted to see in their lifetime.

“Will you just leave me alone? I’m elevated to a position higher than I deserve, and on top of that, I’m not a battle-hardened warrior! I don’t have the mental fortitude to do literally anything related to combat. I’m not even a good strategist, and almost all of the plans that I’ve made only work because of a fluke or sheer dumb luck. And I don’t even get a moment to myself to try and process what the hell I’ve ordered people to do and grieve for the things I’ve seen. Can’t I just get a moment of rest?!”

Tears streaked Kiran’s cheeks. They breathed out shakily, trying to not fall off the ledge. Reining in their emotions, they turn away.

“I just want to go home and forget about everything.“

Alfonse paused. He’d never seen Kiran crack like this. Usually, the Summoner would wear a face of indifference, only revealing hints of happiness, sadness, or really, any other emotion, if they felt like it. He opened his mouth dumbly, paused, then closed it again.

“Summoner...“

“Look, Alfonse, I’m just tired and I need time alone. Just leave me alone.“ Kiran mumbles thickly and continues to pace the brick fence.

Alfonse lowers his outstretched hand, watching Kiran’s retreating back. He sighs, turning away. Maybe he should give Kiran their space. After all, he was the one who pushed Kiran into leading the Order simply because they were their new Summoner.

But...

It was their responsibility, their duty, to lead the Order. No matter how they felt, they must fulfill their duties, first and foremost. That was how generals carries out their orders. It was how he was taught to rule. It was the standard everyone in the army to do the same.

Alfonse paused. He raises his head and turns back, briskly walking towards Kiran. He would tell them that they couldn’t just neglect their duties. Yes, that's what he should do. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears. Hopefully, this would be a good idea…

Kiran huffs. Their initial spark of anger, bitterness, and fear had all boiled away, leaving a quiet shell in its place. Maybe... maybe they weren’t cut out for such a role. After all, they couldn’t lead a small group, let alone coordinate an army. Why were they held to such a standard? It didn’t add up. Just because they were the Summoner, it didn’t mean that they were a master strategist. They could barely follow any of the lessons that Anna and other commanders taught them.

Clink, clink.

“Alfonse, leave me alone,“ the Summoner sighs tiredly. “Didn’t I tell you that-“

They turned towards the noise. Instead of the Askrian Prince’s friendly face, they were met with a black helmet and a gleaming silver axe. Their heart in their throat, they fell off the fence, crawling away from the enemy. Kiran reaches for something, anything to aid them in their time of need.

Their fingers grasp the handle of Breidablik. Whipping it out in front of them like a gun, they stared down the glimmering blade of the other’s weapon. Alfonse was too far away, and if he listened to them, he would be back at the Castle of Heroes.

Dammit! If I’d know that this would happen, I’d have kept him with me, my own emotions be damned! But hindsight is twenty-twenty, I guess.

The axe glances off the long body of Breidablik, yellow and gold sparks shimmering in the early afternoon sun. The force nearly jerks the relic out of Kiran’s grip, but fear kept it from falling.

I... I don’t want to die.

Kiran dodges the Emblian soldier’s next swing, stumbling to their feet.  Fear courses through their veins. They point the relic at the soldier, squeezing the trigger. It was just like they would when summoning a new Hero, but instead with Orbs, their own energy, their own magic. Bright white envelops the area, creating a pillar of light that swallowed the nearby surroundings.

Alfonse stops, watching the pillar form, then fade slowly. His hands started to shake.

Gods no... Kiran...! He breaks into a heavy run, unsheathing Volkvangr as he went. Not another one... not another person that I failed to protect!

The light fades, a glowing figure standing between the faceless soldier and the Summoner. Strawberry blonde hair floated in the slight breeze.They were of a slight build, blue wisps of what could be considered magic arc off of the surface of an invisible weapon. They turn towards Kiran, the sun illuminating their emerald-green eyes.

“I ask of you. Are you my Master?“

[caliburnshadows-blog]

Airgetlam // Fate Grand/Order

So, I was considering how it must feel, having your soul burned as fuel as your NP. I do enjoy torturing my favorites :)

Constructive criticism welcome^^

The words fell from his lips without his meaning so: “Switch On- Airgetlam!”

The first time, it burned.

It burned into his shoulder, his body, his soul.

It burned, it burned, it burned.

His face went white with shock, only illuminated by the golden yellow glow of his sword-arm. His chest tightened and black dots swirled in his vision. He swung his arm like a blade through his foe and they disappeared in a shower of sparks. Finally, he could breathe again.

His limbs felt like lead weights, dragging him down to the earth. Airgetlam hissed and crackled, searing and rubbing his skin red and raw. The edges of his vision fade to black and he longed to lay there for an eternity, but he could not rest. He could not stop here.

He had a duty to fulfill, and if he must endure such pain to fulfill, so it must be.

He picked himself up, readjusted his cloak, and carried on.

The second time, he was mentally prepared.

“Switch On- Airgetlam!” he called, his silver arm igniting. He grit his teeth, the pain crawling up his shoulder, into his chest. It spread through his being, but before it could consume him, he struck the Sun Knight. The Knight staggered back, reeling in shock that his blow managed to land.

White stars exploded in his vision and the burning sensation intensifies. He pants, readying his own sword to clash with his former comrade. He couldn't fall now, not while he was so close.

With a searing pain in his heart, he soldiers on.

The third time, his own body betrayed him.

The Knight of Treachery marched up the mountain, their army dyed in the red of their banner. They trampled anything in their path, killing without any regard for innocent lives. It made him sick to his stomach.

The other Knight's blind loyalty irritated him, frustrated him. They once had been one and the same and yet… their loyalty was twisted and wrong.

“Switch On- Airgetlam!”

He could not let the Knight destroy his allies. The fire burned bright in his soul- it was burning him alive. He pushed it aside for the sake of his King. For his duty.

The Knight of Treachery retreated soon after, a Knight's promise due for when they next met. The Grail Knight looked at him, smiling in relief that they had won this time. Her face morphed into concern as she called his name, asking if he was alright.

He swayed on his feet. The burning wouldn't stop. It kept eating away at him, scrabbling for the last remains of his soul. The blood drained from his face. He felt so heavy… so exhausted…

He sank into unconsciousness, darkness reclaiming his thoughts as their own.

The final time, he was grateful.

The Lion King stared down at him, an impassive look on her face.

“I do not remember a Bedivere.”

Those words stabbed his heart and wounded him more than Airgetlam ever did. He had expected it; the King had been stripped of her humanity by the Demon Lance, but her words cut him to his core.

It was his fault, his failure, that caused this. And now, he was almost there at the end of his journey.

“Switch On- Airgetlam.” he murmurs, turning back to the Grail Knight and her Master.

He smiles at them, thinking back to what they had accomplished. His legs slowly flaked away into nothingness and the edges of his vision became fuzzy. He takes a deep breath, turning back to his King.

Slowly, he crawled up the stairs, fading away into blue dust as he climbed. The Lion King raised her lance threateningly, but he disregarded it, reaching out with his glowing hand.

The moment he touched his King's breastplate, he started to disintegrate faster. He steps back, watching his King's expression chance from fear to a sense of peace.

“Be proud, Bedivere. You are my last and most loyal Knight.”

Bedivere closed his eyes, sinking back into the darkness. A tear ran down his cheek.

His duty was fulfilled.