-Faerie Britain, 1 year 8 months later-
Fuck…..
Micheal thought as he woke up in bed. He gingerly opened his eyes and tried to sit up only to hiss in pain as he felt his muscles complain resulting in him falling backwards back onto the bed. He let let out a shaky laugh although even that hurt to do,
I know I asked for this but god damn does it suck on days like today.
It had been almost two years in Faerie Britain since he had struck his deal with Morgan and she had explained in detail how she would enable him to use faerie witchcraft while remaining human along with her end of their deal. Two years of training his body to withstand the cost of all of it on top of the duties he had as a Tam Lin. Of which included being brought 'up to snuff' by Gawain who he was convinced was a closet sadist given the 'training' he'd been on the receiving end of the entire time,
Not that it hasn't been helpful. I've at least learned how to fight as a Tam Lin although the trick will be seeing what transfers back to my human body. Morgan said that physically speaking there shouldn't be a difference between my body here and the one back in Avalon but...
He slowly sat up, shaking his head clear of his worries for now, and swung his legs off the bed wincing as his feet touched the cold wooden floor. As he did so the weak morning sun crept through the windows illuminating a bit of his room as he stretched a bit and found himself wishing not for the first time that Faerie Britain had coffee. He sighed and managed to stand up to walk into the bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair. He looked at his reflection in the mirror as he did this and once again mentally thanked Morgan for getting him almost everything he asked for. He eyed his Faerie self and once again reached up to pinch the ends of his pointed ears feeling a bit of wonder as he felt the pressure from his fingers.
Going back to a fully human body after this is going to take some time to get used to living in this body...
He thought as his eyes flicked to his left and he eyed the contraption Morgan had made for him in place of a shower. Since the castle didn't have running water in the traditional sense she had done the next best thing which was fashion a closed off area to form the shower walls while mounted to the stones a bit above that was a metal arm attached to which was a magicked disc of steel with a faerie rune engraved into it. The idea being that he would activate the rune with mana to cause the water in the air to funnel down through the disc as a shower, then adjust both the temperature and intensity via that same rune.
Except I still don't have anywhere near the control needed without using my core which means that all of my showers since she installed it have been a downpour of either ice cold or boiling hot water.
He thought to himself briefly hesitating before deciding to just get it over with. Several minutes later he came back out shivering like a shaved lamb in winter as he quickly ran to his bed and wrapped himself in a thick blanket. As he rubbed his arms with his hands under the blanket and swore under his breath his eyes landed on something on the floor right in front of his door. He put his foot on the floor again and immediately yanked it back up as he growled from the cold. He sat there until he felt the room start to warm as the sun came further into the sky at which point he gingerly got out of bed and walked over to the door to get the letter. He quickly scanned it only to see it was a normal letter but the address gave him pause,
Gloucester?
He narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember who ruled that city. Morgan had told him who ruled over which city a week or two after he had arrived but given that he hadn't had the chance to put a face to most of the names he was told, he wound up forgetting about most them aside from vague feelings based off their names alone,
Thats the…. shopping city right?
He frowned and tore open the letter to pull out a sheet of paper along with what looked like two show tickets. He glanced at the tickets before placing them on a nearby table as he read the letter,
Greetings and Salutations Tam Lin Mordred,
I am writing you on behalf Lady Muryan to invite you to a banquet of which numerous nobility will be attending…
Micheal read the rest of the letter only to frown as he got to the bottom as he noticed there was no name. Arching an eyebrow he turned the paper over and saw the letter continued on the back,
Included with this invitation are two tickets to any auction held within the city limits. I can't say for sure if any of the items would interest you but it would bring much joy for Lady Muryan to make the acquaintance of the Dark Dragon Prince himself. Feel free to bring anyone you like with the second ticket.
He looked at the tickets again before continuing to read eventually finding the signature of the faerie who wrote the letter. He frowned not recognizing the name and then blew out his cheeks,
The banquet and auction are in a week and knowing Morgan she'd want me to at least visit this Muryan despite the fact that I have about four months left here. The question is who the hell do I bring….
He thought for a few seconds and then grinned as an idea started to form in his head.
#####
"Absolutely not."
Micheal clicked his tongue and gave Morgan a flat look as she glared at him. They had just gotten done with more of his training and he was covered in sweat while using La rose d'Argent Noirci as a makeshift cane to hold himself upright.
[Look. I'm not saying you need to talk to anyone but-]
"Good. Because there is no way in hell I am doing that or doing anything related to any faerie in these damn isles."
Micheal firmed his jaw and stared down his ancestor as she folded her arms and glared right back. After several seconds he broke eyecontact first and swore,
[I've gone through every fucking book in your library on the history of this damn place and aside from it being about what I expected from a country of basically only faeries, in that its a fucking horrible place and the 'people' who live here are worse, I still don't see what any of them did specifically to you to make you hate them this much.]
Morgan opened her mouth to respond and then closed it with a snap. She was silent for a bit before,
"Why I hate them is personal. That is all you are getting out of me. Frankly speaking there is no word in any language made by Humans, Faeries, or Phantasmals that truly describes my hatred for the people of this country."
[Then make one up.]
She narrowed her eyes,
"How about we drop this topic before you get hurt," She smirked and flicked out a finger causing the pointed tip of d'Argent Noirci to slide out from under Micheals hand with a grinding sound making him to tumble to the floor. He groaned and rolled over onto his back to see Morgan looking at him smugly, "Well, more hurt than you already are."
He gingerly sat up and focused causing Blessed Hellfire to vanish into feathers of light before reappearing in his hand in its pistol form. He stared at it,
"Well? Have you mastered its fourth form and have you found out its fifth form yet?"
He shook his head and fell backwards onto the floor to enjoy the coolness of the stones under his body,
[I have no idea for the fifth form but I'm getting better with the fourth. I haven't really had the time to commune with it lately between Gawain beating me up and your 'lessons' oh great teacher. ]
Morgan huffed a singled laugh as she walked away,
"Yes well my lessons are proving useful," She called back causing him to turn his head to see her walking over to a weapon rack, "Almost two years ago you barely lasted more than a quarter of a second against my weakest spells. Now you're lasting long enough that I'm actually having to try a little and all it took was me beating you senseless everyday for a little over twenty months."
Micheal grunted not willing to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was correct. He had felt himself changing of course and he glanced at the bracelet around his wrist that sealed off his faerie core.
[Remind me again how you doing all of this to me is supposed to help me learn Faerie witchcraft that doesn't use my core.]
She hummed a bit and selected a broadsword hefting it in one hand before placing it back,
"By exposing your body to the very thing you are trying to learn, it is absorbing it piece by piece. Since your body here is effectively a full male copy of myself that means you already 'know' everything I do via your core even if you can't or won't cast it. So by exposing you to it all over again your body 'caps out' for lack a better word which means that the part of you thats absorbing everything I've been throwing at you is your soul. However your soul isn't a normal human soul as we've discussed at length before. It would be more accurate to call it a partial divine spirit fragment entirely due to your contract with your Divine Construct."
She paused and turned around to look at him,
"Divine Spirits are entirely and holistically different than Faeries in that Faeries are nature spirits and Divine Spirits are just that: Divine. However Divinity can walk the earth as mortal whereas a Faerie can't be mortal due to their inherent nature as beings of and from the Planet itself."
Micheal nodded. This wasn't the first time he'd had this lecture. Morgan smiled,
"The idea, as I've explained before now, is that after we train your soul to be partially awakened as Divinity we activate your faerie core on purpose and then at just the right second dissolve it within you so that your body, in the switch between human and faerie, latches onto your divinity instead. This way you stay mortal and are also able to use Faerie Witchcraft via your divinity."
[And this literal miracle will be entirely due to all of this crap being beaten into me over the last twenty months. So here's my question: At the end of all of this what the hell even am I?]
She tilted her head and tapped her chin thoughtfully,
"A mutt."
Micheal glared at her and flipped her off as she laughed,
[Smartass Faerie.]
"The smartest~"
Micheal rolled his eyes and stood up. He shook out his limbs and then gave Morgan a pointed look,
[I still think it would be good to get out of the castle. You don't even have to come with me to the banquet but you've stayed cooped up in here for how many hundreds of years?]
She once again folded her arms,
"And what do you think would happen if the Winter Queen, Her Majesty High Queen Morgan, was seen walking through some random ass field. I would like to remind you that outside of you no one even knows that I'm even remotely like this and I would like to keep it that way."
Micheal tilted his head and then looked at her,
[Which leads me to something I've been wondering. Why?]
"Why what?"
[Why did you open up to me so easily two years ago? I've seen how you make deals and you'd make a loan shark swoon. Not to mention your general attitude towards other faeries aside from the other Tam Lin.]
"Whats your point."
Morgan folded her arms and glared at him as he weighed how best to ask his next question,
[I guess I'm wondering why me of all people. Thats all.]
Morgans gaze softened a bit before she sighed,
"I made your current body to effectively be a male version of my own while also being the body you would have had in your original life."
[Before I blew myself up in the 8th century or whenever.]
She nodded,
"Indeed. As such I tend to let down my guard around you because instinctively to me, even if I know consciously that you're not me, its like I'm talking with another version of myself."
[Have you... done that before? Created a clone of yourself just to have someone to talk to?]
She scoffed,
"No. I have never been that desperate for company. Now back to that invite you received."
He groaned,
[Who would you recommend I bring then? Pretty sure this is one of those things where its expected I have a +1. Tristan is a no since she still hates me and Beryl's only been making it worse since our little duel last year, Gawain… I can't see being out of her armor, and Lancelot would be decidedly weird given how she sees me as both a potential draconic mate as well as her older brother.]
Morgan winced a bit at the mention of her husband,
"Honestly it would have been better if you and Beryl had never met…."
He arched an eyebrow at her,
"I'm pretty sure what you mean to say is that you wish Beryl had never shown up in the first place given what I've been able to piece together by now but I agree with you that things would be less… hostile between me and Tristan had I not met him."
He recalled that he had first met Beryl at a banquet that some noble was throwing over a year and some months prior. One that Morgan had ordered him to attend in her stead as Tam Lin Mordred….
~~~~~~~~~
Micheal stepped out of the carriage and pulled his half-cloak over his shoulder with a shrug as he walked down the steps to land on the cobblestones beneath him. He glanced overhead and frowned seeing it was overcast only to then lower his gaze as he cast it around at the rest of the gathered nobility. His entrance had been one of many but even then murmuring had started as soon as the door to the carriage had opened and he had stepped out. He sighed internally and walked forward his boots clinking on the stones as he took his rightful place at the front of the line.
Immediately a faerie opened their mouth to yell at him but he just angled his helmet at them and flashed some hellfire where the dragons eyes were causing the faerie to fall backwards and then run away shouting apologies. He shook his head and looked around more at the area. It was a normal fortress keep but had clearly been cleaned up for the party this noble was throwing. Frowning Micheal remembered how Morgan had elected him to be her representative to the event while every excuse and reason he shouldn't or couldn't go died as she refuted them one by one.
Of course we learn that Tristan would be in the same city as me after we send out the acceptance letter.
He frowned and shook his head clear of his darkening thoughts as he quickly sent out a pulse of mana and got the levels of every faerie in the immediate vicinity. He noted that among them were some with higher levels of mana than the others which would make them High Faeries. A minute or two later the keep doors opened and two maids came out to welcome him along with everyone else in. He strode past them into the keep and briefly wondered if he could explore a bit only to have that thought vanish as someone called out to him. He looked over at the voice and smiled under his helmet as he saw the Fang Clan Leader leaning back against a wall at the edge of the main hall.
[Woodwose. Nice to see you up and about. How's the leg?]
Micheal asked as he walked over to the bestial faerie and craning his head up to look at him. He and Micheal had sparred a few times at Morgans insistence and during the last bout he had gotten in a good hit on the man's right leg. Woodwose for his part snorted a single laugh and eyed Micheal as he leaned against the wall,
"Better. Your magecraft is… truly unique. It felt like I was sparring a version of the High Queen herself."
Micheal chuckled at the other mans brief hesitation and angled his helmet up at him,
[You can call it "bullshit" if you want and I won't tell a soul. Trust me, I won't be offended.]
A soft rumbling sounded and Micheal realized it was Woodwose laughing under his breath,
"What I wouldn't have given to have you as a Fang Clan Faerie, Tam Lin Mordred. Still for Her Majesty to have found you when I wasn't even aware of your existence… Truly remarkable. Your recent training under Tam Lin Gawain has not gone unnoticed either."
Micheal hummed an agreement and watched as several Fang Clan faeries moved past carrying trays of food. He blinked and remembered that Woodwose owned several restaurants,
[So is the reason you're here purely to make sure the catering is done to your satisfaction?]
"Somewhat… There was an outbreak of Mors in one of the districts of the city. I led the forces in quelling them but not without a truly tragic loss of life."
Woodwose shook his head as his mane flowed behind him. He then angled his head to look at Micheal with a serious look to him that made him straighten his posture subconsciously,
"I petitioned Her Majesty to let me take you again to fight the Mors. We have received information that they are gathering in the northwest of the isles and as such the Fang Clan is obligated to take them out. However as much as I would like to have you running ranged support..." He paused and lowered his voice, "I'd rather have you standing by should I not be there to protect Her."
Micheal's eyes widened hearing Woodwose say this quietly to him and then glanced around the room before looking back at the man deciding to put up a discrete privacy and illusion bounded field,
[What could possibly happen to prevent you from protecting Morgan?]
Woodwose fell silent and seemed to stare into the distance as he considered how to respond. Eventually he sighed,
"You've studied the history of this country correct? Have you learned about the Rain clan yet in your studies?"
Micheal shook his head causing the other faerie to frown,
"The Rain Clan lives in the far north of the country and are primarily non-combatants. They're main forte is predictions and prophecies. One of which has been a… longstanding cause for concern amongst myself and the other leaders aligned with her Majesty's goal and rule."
Micheal tilted his head a bit at this,
[What does this prophecy say? You've got my curiosity piqued.]
Woodwose opened his mouth to answer when a crash happened from outside the room snagging both of their attentions. They looked at each other and Woodwose ran ahead with Micheal not far behind as he dispelled the field and summoned Blessed Hellfire into his hand in its pistol form. They quickly opened the doors and ran into the hall only to both immediately dodge the crimson daggers thrown at them,
"Tch. I thought Mother was coming, not you."
Micheal slightly lowered his pistol and sighed,
[Hello Tristan. Can you please not make another mess I have to clean up?]
She glared at him with open hostility as his gaze slipped past her to see that she had strung up at least eight nobles with crimson red thread. He frowned and performed a quick scan only to see that they were already dead and dissolving into mana.
"Tam Lin Tristan. I-"
Tristan ignored Woodwose completely and walked over to stand in front of Micheal to openly glare into his helmet. He had asked Morgan previously if she could see past it and was assured she couldn't,
"I want a duel."
He blinked and tilted his head as Woodwose stiffened in place. Tristan smirked at him and gently patted the lower jaw of his helmet with her hand,
"Unless you're too much of a coward and a weakling to even understand what a duel between Tam Lin means~"
She cooed at him as he took a deep breath to calm himself. He took a step back and put away Blessed Hellfire before he crossed his arms ,
[Tam Lin Tristan do you even understand or know why I am here and not at Camelot?]
"Does it matter? Its not like its anything importan-"
[I am here directly representing Her Majesty, High Queen Morgan. So let me ask you in response to your demand for a duel: Are you prepared to fight The Winter Queen herself?]
Tristan froze in place as her eyes flicked from the bubble to his helmet and back. She opened her mouth with a snarl when a voice came out from behind her,
"Now, Now Tristan. I'm… curious about this new faerie. I've never met him before and he say's he's Morgans direct rep? I don't believe it."
Tristans face went from ugly snarl to happy grin as she turned on the spot and practically leapt over to the first real Free Human Micheal had seen so far since he had been sent over here. He wore glasses, his black hair was swept back, and his ears were slightly pointed but what got Micheals attention was the aura and mana coming off of the man. He felt his stomach twist into a knot at the rancid feeling he gave off.
"Beryl! You did decide to come!"
Micheal watched stunned as Tristan quickly walked around him and dusted him off. The entire time this Beryl continued to stare at him with a predatory curiosity. His eyes roamed over Micheals armor and seemed to linger on the hellfire in his breastplate before his gaze went back to his helmet. He smiled and walked forward holding out his hand to shake,
"Beryl Gut. Crypter and husband to Morgan. Which makes me King. I'd ask you to kneel but you don't seem like the kind of person to bend the knee without being forced."
Micheal firmed his jaw as Beryl got within arms reach his hand still outstretched. He had never heard of this man back in his original timeline and looked at the outstretched hand before instead nodding at Beryl,
[The only one I will kneel for is Her Majesty, High Queen Morgan. While I appreciate the offer to shake hands, I will politely decline at this time.]
Beryl whistled and pulled his hand back before sneering at him,
"Well aren't you all prim and polished. Whats your name?"
[Tam Lin Mordred.]
Beryl went still and stared at Micheal who could see the gears in the mans head spinning as he then narrowed his eyes,
"'Mordred' you say… meaning you're on par with Morgan herself."
Beryl grinned and seemed to reevaluate Micheal who matched his gaze,
"Beryyyllll…. Why are you being buddy buddy with this guy?"
Micheal had to force himself not to physically turn his head to stare at Tristan as she whined from behind the man.
"Because for the first time in a long time since I got here something interests me…. And I'd like to get to know 'Mordred' a bit…. better."
Micheal narrowed his eyes from behind his helmet at the veiled threat,
[As I told Tristan I am here as-]
"Yes, yes as Morgans direct rep. Here's the thing that has me curious. I'm wondering how closely you're related to the Proper Human History Mordred given that there's no King Arthur in Faerie Britain which then begs the follow up question," Beryl stepped in close as a truly pure and singular murderous intent flowed off of the man, "Who did Morgan steal dna from to make you, you traitor?"
Micheal quickly stuffed his responding intent and combat instinct into a box, chucking it into the furthest corner of his mind as he glared into Beryls face from behind his helmet. Micheal opened his mouth to respond when he paused as he felt something was off. He performed a scan on himself and noticed that Beryl had placed a truly potent suggestion spell on him. He devoted a bit of mana to rip it to shreds, making sure his core didn't activate, and then took a step back from Beryl who blinked in obvious surprise,
[I would appreciate if you kept your distance Beryl Gut. I don't want my armor taking in any of your putrid aura or being stained by your vile mana. I just got it polished afterall.]
Beryl stiffened in place and licked his lips hungrily,
"Interesting…. You might actually be on par with her afterall. How about this: I'll take you on in place of Tristan. There's a training yard nearby-"
"Your Majesty, King Beryl. Please reconsider-" Woodwose began to speak only for Beryl to snap his gaze to the faerie who stiffened in place.
"Shut it mutt. Your betters are speaking."
Micheal found his dislike of Beryl turning into hatred quickly but slowly breathed in and out.
[I do not have time to spar with you, human. Now if you'll excuse me.]
Micheal turned on his heel and began to walk away,
"I bet both of your parents are just as big a coward as you are."
He froze in place and slowly turned his head to look at Beryl over his shoulder as the eyes in his helmet flashed with hellfire.
[Where is this training yard.]
####
Micheal stepped into the yard and immediately noticed the crowd that had gathered to watch from above causing him to frown. He knew he couldn't outright kill Beryl assuming he wasn't kidding about being Morgans husband but he also couldn't let that comment about his parents slide. He knew Beryl was baiting him but he had accepted the duel before he could reign himself back in. He blew out his cheeks and shook his head as he scanned the crowd again waiting for Beryl to show up only for his eyes to land on someone that both stuck out and blended in perfectly with the rest of the nobility.
It was a blonde faerie with glasses and a truly massive hat paired with white robes that at first glance seemed to be more interested in reading her book than watching the duel. As Micheal narrowed his eyes at her trying to place where he'd seen her before movement from the other end of the training yard drew his attention,
"Alright so," Beryl said as he came out while stretching his arms and legs, "Back where I'm from there's this place called the Clock Tower where you 'spar' other magic users right? Well, you have to agree to a set of limitations before you can fight and if you break those limitations bad shit happens to you."
Micheal had to stop himself from nodding and instead tilted his head,
[And this has to do with our duel why?]
Beryl's grin was all teeth,
"Because its utter crap and doesn't let either person truly fight since they're being held back from the start. However I have shit to do and I can't be dying or losing a limb just yet so how about this: We fight until one of us surrenders. No maiming, no killing, but everything else is fine. There's no way to enforce this after all so lets just... bet on each others honor that we'll both abide by that shall we?"
Micheal was about to extend his finger to respond when an all too familiar pressure enveloped his body making him pause as Beryls eyes narrowed and he looked around carefully,
"Tch. Seems I can't have any fun without the wife butting in as usual. Mordred, bit of advice for you, yeah? Don't ever get married. The entire thing is nothing but a pain in the ass."
Micheal didn't respond but flicked his gaze back up to the faerie with the hat and for the briefest of moments swore she was staring at him. He blinked and saw she was reading her book before focusing back on Beryl,
[Do we want to agree on when to start or just go for it?]
Beryl was clearly annoyed by the restrictions but managed to smile evilly at Micheal,
"How about-"
Micheal reinforced himself and dodged as Beryl suddenly shot forward with a straight punch for the center of his chest,
"Hm…. You dodged that. You might be more fun than I thought."
Micheal dodged all of Beryls strikes, punches, and kicks analyzing the way he fought as he felt his brain settle into the familiar pattern of his combat instinct. He let it seem like Beryl had the upper hand to put on a show for the nobility but the entire time he was slowly leading the man towards a weapon rack only for Beryl suddenly pull his hand back, extend two fingers, and his eyes widened as his opponent suddenly spoke a multi-layered incantation causing mana to concentrate into his two fingers.
He quickly reinforced his legs by pulling in mana and dashed to the side to avoid the puncturing strike Beryl was about to hit him with only for Beryl to suddenly seem to speed up as he felt himself slowdown. He narrowed his eyes, furthered his reinforcement to speed back up, and instead twisted out of the way of the strike. Mid twist he grabbed a sword off a nearby weapon rack in one hand and spun in place to swing the sword at Beryls hip.
All at once everything sped back up as Beryl sunk his fingers into the wall like it was tofu causing a spiderweb of cracks to spread out from the point of impact while he caught the blade Micheal was swinging between his fingers with his free hand. Micheal let go of the blade and dashed backwards as Beryl dropped the blade and pulled his fingers out from the wall rubbing them against his thumb as he looked calculatingly at him,
"Now was that training or just luck?"
Micheal didn't respond and instead summoned Blessed Hellfire into his hand causing Beryl to whistle appreciatively,
"Nice looking Mystic Code although the colors seem at odds with your armor. Did you happen to buy that from a certain fox?"
Micheal shook his head, once again wondering who this 'Fox' was that he kept hearing about, and channeled his energy into the pistol causing it to morph into La rose d'Argent Noirci which made Beryls eyes widen to the point of being almost comical,
"Woah, woah, woah. You're not actually going to try to kill me are you? I'm King, remember Mordred?"
Micheal narrowed his eyes under his helmet, deciding to try and use the fourth form of Blessed Hellfire he had discovered several months earlier while training with Gawain. He focused on the all too familiar scent of pine trees and embers as the d'Argent Noici glowed and then the blade dissolved into flowing golden dust while the hilt dissolved into yet more dust that instead moved to encircle his hand and wrist in a three layered circle. Subtly as the training ground filled with that same dust he had an idea that made him grin under his helmet,
I wonder if I can do something similar to what Morgan did when I first got here...
Beryl stiffened in place as his eyes flicked around the training ground noticing the dust and how every speck was overflowing with mana, Micheal got his attention and raised his other hand to extend a finger out of which he projected a speech bubble,
[I won't kill you 'King' Beryl but I can't just let you go without making sure no one else makes the same mistake you did about insulting my parents. Especially since, King or not… I am Tam Lin Mordred after all.]
Micheal held out the hand which had the circles of dust wrapped around it and snapped his fingers with a metallic crack. A split second later a golden version of one of Jeanne's lances appeared out of thin air and impaled the ground between Beryls feet with a crack causing the ground to explode upwards in a massive cloud of dust. The man immediately swore and dashed backwards as Micheal snapped his fingers again making nine golden lances form around him in the air. With a twist and flick of his hand the lances shot forward right as Beryl landed in place. He quickly erected a barrier and waited for the sound of the lances shattering against it.
No sound came.
He blinked and went completely still as he saw that the inside of the barrier he had erected around himself went from normal to being coated with that golden dust which was steadily forming into hundreds of small golden spikes all pointing inwards towards him with larger ones stationed only a few millimeters away from his vital organs, throat, and face. He could barely breath without stabbing himself on the spikes. He glared daggers at Micheal who stood there impassively and ground out through clenched teeth,
"….You win. I concede."
Micheal nodded and lowered his hand causing the spikes to dissolve into golden dust which mingled with the dust from the first lance that was still in the air. He then turned on his heel, dispelled all of the dust along with the rings around his hand, and began to leave the area when on an impulse he looked back at where the faerie with the hat was and saw her smirking at him. He blinked and she had vanished into thin air.
Frowning, he left the training ground.
~~~~~~~~~~
Micheal pulled himself out of his memories and looked at Morgan as he remembered the faerie with the hat. He tilted his head at her and furrowed his brow causing her to arch an eyebrow herself,
"Yes?"
[...have you ever worn a hat?]
Morgan looked from the bubble to him and seemed to consider something for a few seconds before answering,
"...No. I've never worn a hat or anything on my head beyond my crown. Why?"
Micheal shook his head,
[You just reminded me of someone is all.]
She hummed a bit at this and then snapped her fingers causing both of them to teleport to her workshop. Micheal stumbled a bit, caught himself, and levelled a glare at her,
[You know I hate when you do that right?]
Chuckling but not responding Morgan drew faerie runes in the air with a mana infused finger and some of the stones nearby rose out of the floor to form a floating table. Micheal groaned but moved over to lay down on the table as Morgan performed her examination of him as she did every time after she had trained him. Several minutes later she frowned,
"...Its speeding up."
Micheal snapped his gaze to her. He had been lost in his thoughts the entire time but now he was laser focused in,
[What do you mean its speeding up.]
She glanced at him and then held out her hands. Small light blue magic circles formed and began to flit across his body. After another minute or two she dispelled the circles and folded her arms,
"Micheal… What happened when you went to the forgemaster I recommended for your vacation."
He froze on the table as he remembered in vivid detail once again hearing Jeannes voice alongside everything else,
[I…. I don't know how to explain.]
"Try."
He looked at her and saw that she was either annoyed or frustrated as she narrowed her eyes at him. He guessed she had activated her eyes as well and so he decided to be honest right out the gate,
[While I was there the forgemaster had me helping him work on some smithing. One day after I had gotten finished a piece I felt like something had changed in the air but brushed it off. After he came in to inspect my work he… asked me to summon Blessed Hellfire. When I did he told me to place it on a bench while he went into the back to get something. The entire time that feeling of something changing or being different in the air got stronger. I ignored it as best as I could and right as I was about to try and scan the room the forgemaster came back out with a pair of gauntlets.]
He continued explaining as Morgan began to scan him with the circles again. He had gotten to the point where the gauntlets had turned into hellfire red energy and then seemed to flow into a point of nothingness as that feeling of something being in the air heightened.
"...And? What happened next. I need to know on the off chance whatever happened did something to you."
Micheal hesitated as he looked at Morgan. He decided to tell as much of the truth as he felt he could while keeping what Jeanne had done private,
[The feeling in the room changed distinctly into the presence of the servant I had summoned for the Fourth Grail War. They…. Told me to come home soon and then their presence vanished.]
Morgan dispelled the circles and blew out her cheeks as she folded her arms and thought for a few seconds,
"We're speeding up the timeline. We need to get you back to your original body within the next 24 hours."
Micheal shot upright on the table and stared at her,
[So my core back home…]
"That Servant is trying her best and I thought that the bracelet would have mitigated more of this on our side… I know you didn't tell me everything but I won't pry. However whatever that servant did partially activated your core here which sped up the activation of the core in your original body back in your timeline. Do you remember what else I'd have to do to get rid of your core?"
[You said…. You'd have to kill me.]
Morgan nodded and gestured for him to lay back down. He did so,
"Just so you know. When your body dies here, you won't remember anything of the past two years in your active memories or consciousness. Your soul and subconcious, however, will remember the training you've done. Both mine and Gawains. Also…"
[This is going to really fucking hurt isn't it?]
Morgan smiled humorlessly and began to glow with her trademark blue-black mana as her smile took on a fondness to it that he had never seen from her before,
"Micheal Lefaire. Thank you for letting me be... myself for the first time in over 2,000 years. I will always treasure our time together… even when you come to kill me."
He had just raised his finger to ask what she was talking about when her mana enveloped him and darkness covered him completely.