Fate: Hero and Sword

She didn't seem as if she was staring at him, but instead at a distant past.

"You say I do not understand, Vincent Berferd, but I do," she muttered lowly.

The memories within her mind revealed a childhood and adolescence plagued by conspiracy and deception. Unable to step out into the light, and unable to be like the rest; never making a single friend until the day she shed her identity as a villager and took forth the Sword of Selection. Even then, she had always been the target of her very own elder sister, the Witch, Morgan Le Fay.

In regard to Vincent's troubles, she could understand them all too well, for she had experienced the same.

"I really do."

The surety, depth, and sentiment in Arturia's voice was unquestionable.

Vincent was stunned, mouth closing as shame filled him, making him glance away. Yet Arturia would not have it. Not now.

"Raise your head," she said. "You are a Noble, and should know never to bow your head lightly. Not for someone like me."

The very King who eventually led her Kingdom to its ruin despite the legend of her name.

Arturia pursed her lips before putting away the bitterness that welled from within her.

"Raise your head, Vincent Berferd!"

Her countenance once again grew serious, the sudden shift jolting Vincent to stare up.

There he saw the sight of an individual not angry at him, but on his behalf, no ulterior motives to be found.

"Do not give up so easily. It's because I've experienced a similar situation that I can say this with confidence," she said as she knelt down where Vincent sat; a resolution to her that made it seem as if she was bathed in a divine light.

"Should a time come when the world itself has degraded to a state of corruption where petty greed and profit stand above all morals," Gently, slowly, she extended a hand forth; lightly tapping Vincent's chest at the location of his heart before pulling back and tapping over her own.

"Believe in honour."

She tapped his left shoulder next.

"In duty."

Then his right shoulder.

"In oaths."

She pulled back, clenching her hand into a fist which she placed over her chest.

"And in integrity."

Silence, the serenity of it all captured solely by the eyes of nature, and the man whose heart and convictions were thoroughly moved. Not a word could leave Vincent's mouth, not even if he tried.

Nodding her head solemnly, Arturia stepped back onto her feet and looked down at the man before her.

"Do so Vincent Berferd, and I guarantee you that you shall never fall into despair, and never lose your way again."

Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it was all too clear in Vincent's ears, his unease giving way to a reverence within him that Arturia would never have had been able to imagine.

In the Roble Holy Kingdom, it wasn't the Royal Family that had the most influence, but the Holy Knights who supported the Royal Family. In which case, there was only one reason the Holy Knights would be held in such high regard.

The National Hero of the Holy Kingdom and the ideals and character she represented.

At present, the individual known as the Valkyrie of Roble Vincent had always studied in the history books coincided with Arturia's image, rendering him motionless.

"And perhaps, just maybe, you may lead others better than I ever could have."

As the King without Emotion.

Vincent's heart wrenched within his chest, seeing the grief and misery that suddenly flashed across Arturia's features, but before he could dwell on it or Arturia's words, she was already moving.

"Wait! Where are you going?" He said, his feet pushing him off the ground and to a stand.

She paused at his call, the mantle draped over her shoulders billowing in a still breeze while the loose tresses of her hair framed her side-profile.

"That answer is simple," she intoned. "When all alternatives are cut off in war, and there are no means of escape, what does any lion, wolf, or animal do?"

She twisted her head to stare back.

In the gentle hum of the forest, with leaves falling and animals grazing upon the grass and shrubs, only two words resounded.

They Fight.

The Southernmost Region of the Roble Holy Kingdom situated within the borders of the Re-Estize Kingdom was geographically opposite of the bay dividing the South from the North. Unlike the North however, the majority of the rivers and eddies formed from the moving currents of the large bay emptied out in the South, forming regions of deposited sediments and deltas that comprised an entire rural suburban zone.

Of course, not all places were densely populated due to the unpredictability of flooding, but the fertility of the land was unquestionable. More so with the spring water that melted from the mountainside and formed small ponds that attracted migratory birds and wild game for hunting.

For any countryside resident of the Holy Kingdom, it was truly an ideal location to live despite some natural hazards. However, the matter was different when it concerned those not generally used to such conditions.

"I hate this place," a prim, yet contemptuous voice sounded out.

A young woman wearing silk-bound leathers embroidered with lavish gold linings grumbled to herself as she pulled her shin-high riding boots from out of the mud in which they had sank in. Her nose wrinkled upon completion of the action, the dirt and grime staining her footwear preventing anyone from determining just how luxurious they had once been.

"It's dirty, there's bugs, and it smells of salt and musk," the woman's gaze directed whimsically downward, as if the heat of her glare could instantly cleanse her of nature's filth.

"Look at them," she said gesturing to her boots. "I'll have to get a new pair!"

Off to the side, one of the two young men busy staring across at the forest before them, glanced back and scoffed.