Chapter 129. Queen of Britain 2/?
5th century AD, Catholic Christmas
London, St Paul's Cathedral
"Thus shall a great miracle come to pass, and by the will that is pleasing unto God, whoever draws this sword from the stone shall by right of birth be king over all the land of England," rang out the words of a majestic elder in the cathedral courtyard, his long beard and hair dignified with grey.
"Ha, is anyone more worthy of the crown than I? I will pull this sword from the stone," one of the kings of Wales immediately stepped forward. Yet he was not the only one who craved the crown, and at once an argument broke out: everyone wanted to be the first to snatch fortune's favor. Then the archbishop spoke:
"Let each of those present try in turn, according to seniority and rank. Whoever succeeds shall be the one destined to become king."
So the order was determined: among equals, the elders went first, and once all the lords had tried, their knights stepped forward. Yet even the strongest of the strong could not so much as budge the sword stuck in the stone.
"There is no king among us," said the archbishop. "Let messengers be sent in all directions to tell of the sword. On the first day of the new year we shall hold a tournament in which anyone may take part, be he knight or commoner. Let every participant try his luck and attempt to pull the sword from the stone. Until then, this wondrous weapon shall be guarded by ten noble knights."
"There is no need to rush, Your Grace," a beautiful maiden's voice suddenly sounded.
All eyes immediately turned toward the voice, and there stood a lovely young girl accompanied by two young knights, clad in armor that was undoubtedly of fine quality and great expense.
"There is another candidate who wishes to test their strength."
"Hmph, even among us no worthy man was found, and you, woman, think that some beardless youth can become king?" one of the kings of Wales said disdainfully at once, to the approving murmur of the others. Yet there was one who did not share their opinion and who was peering intently at the newcomers—especially at the knight-girl, who regarded all those present with a touch of nostalgia.
"Do not be hasty in your judgments, Your Majesty," Merlin suddenly spoke, then turned to the arrivals. "Would you deign to introduce yourselves before taking part?"
"So be it," the girl did not argue and, as the one with the higher status in the current situation, introduced herself first: "My name is Fischl von Luftschloss Narfidort. I am the princess of a realm known as the Evernight Nirvana."
"I am Mordred Pendragon, direct descendant of Uther Pendragon, and I am here today to become king," boldly declared the knight in white and red armor. Only the knight-girl standing slightly behind them remained unnamed; others might have ignored her because of the brazen words of the youth, but she was precisely the one who interested Merlin most.
Demonstrating an incredible miracle of teleportation, the famed sage and mage appeared right before the newcomers and addressed the knight-girl:
"And what about you, young knight? Do you also wish to try your luck and pull the sword from the stone?"
"No," the girl shook her head. "The time of Artoria Pendragon is already over. It is the turn of others now."
These words confused many of the listeners, but they told Merlin everything he needed to know.
"Is that your wish?"
"It is," Artoria nodded confidently.
"In that case, please," Merlin turned to Mordred and pointed her toward the sword embedded in the stone in the middle of the courtyard.
"Did Uther have other children?" the noble lords began whispering among themselves, intrigued by the newcomers' names. Some of the wiser among them were far more interested in why Merlin was paying such special attention to these strangers and, of course, did not overlook such peculiar words about the reign of a king no one had ever heard of. There were also those who wondered what sort of realm this "Evernight Nirvana" might be.
Under the keen gaze of countless eyes, Mordred approached the sword imprisoned in the stone and, with only the slightest pull, easily drew the blade free, as though it had been stuck not in stone, but in butter.
"And so, the choice has been made," Merlin proclaimed. Yet although some knights were already inclined to fall to their knees to greet the new king, they were stopped by their more quick-witted companions, who had noticed the obvious reluctance of their suzerains.
"I believe we must not rush this matter. We do not yet know whether there might be other, more worthy candidates. We should send out messengers, hold the tournament, and continue testing those who lay claim to the throne," one of the lords declared, to the approval of the others who did not wish to be ruled by a beardless youth.
"Hmph, you still can't let go of your hope to rule over everyone? So be it," Mordred, fully aware that in this world there were only two other candidates for the throne besides herself, calmly drove the sword back into the stone, then boldly stated: "I will await your tournament, but if none of the knights who arrive can pull out the sword, you will be the first to swear fealty to me."
"So it shall be," the lord did not refuse. Thus it was decided.
Everyone dispersed, and the lords hastened to seek out as many knights as they could who would be loyal to them. None of them believed that no one else would be found who could pull the sword from the stone. Meanwhile, in a rather well-appointed house, a company of three girls and one half-incubus had gathered.
"This is not quite the development of events I expected, but it is rather interesting," the mage of flowers admitted with a slight smile. Having discarded the guise of the wise old man, he now appeared before us in his usual form, looking over Artoria with keen interest from all sides.
"BOOM!" At last the knight-girl's patience ran out, and she struck the mage with her fist.
"Ow, ow. You're nothing like that sweet little girl anymore," Merlin said, pulling a wounded face as he rose from the pile of debris caused by his less-than-graceful landing.
"Even so, I did not foresee this kind of situation."
"That's not what matters most. Will you support us? There's no need to stage a confrontation between the younger Artoria and Mordred; let her simply live a good life, and we'll handle everything ourselves. Besides, wouldn't it be interesting to teach her magic?"
"What are you planning?" our Artoria asked with a sinking feeling.
"Artoria Caster?" Merlin instantly caught my thought, then added with a smile: "Why not?"
"Let's see how this world will change," Merlin said before disappearing, and Artoria sprang to her feet.
"Where are you going?" I immediately asked the girl hurrying off somewhere.
"I… I'll keep an eye on the other me myself," she froze for a moment, as if unsure how best to refer to her other version.
"As you wish," I shrugged.
"I'm going too," Mordred leapt up after her, clearly eager to see a young version of her father.
"Well, if that's what everyone's decided, then let's be off."