How…?
Where…?
The questions scraped raw at her throat before she ever voiced them. Her lungs tightened first... a sharp crushing fold inwards, the air turning to stone.
Then her fingers shook.
And her vision blurred at the edges.
Breathing became a chore, one she all but abandoned if not for the panicked gasps for air.
The forest suddenly felt too close, the trees leaned in like watching giants, their shadows stretching long hands toward her. The air thickened, wet and heavy, refusing to enter her chest no matter how desperately she gulped for it.
Her heart hammered... too fast, too weak, a frantic flutter trapped in a small, trembling cage of ribs.
She pressed both hands to the dirt, nails digging in.
Not real.
Not me.
Not this.
Not again.
Her breath hitched, shuddering out of her in ragged bursts. She tried to steady it, but every inhale stung, every exhale broke. The memories slammed into her in flashes... steel, blood, sun on armor, the ache of a crown so heavy it crushed her spine.
And then her own tiny hands.
Her own tiny feet.
Her own tiny voice, barely more than a whisper.
"I'm not… I'm not supposed to-"
THIS ISN'T WHAT YOU PROMISED
The world spun, and her stomach lurched as though falling from a great height.
THIS ISN'T WHAT WE WISHED
She curled inward, forehead pressed to her knees, breath coming in fast, shallow gasps that scraped like sandpaper, scratching at her throat.
She wanted a familiar face.
She wanted a warm hearth.
She wanted someone to tell her she wasn't losing herself piece by piece.
But all she had was a trembling chest, a mind splitting in two, and the pain of a sword piercing her chest.
"…Help…" she rasped, though no one was there to hear it.
Her fingers scrabbled weakly at the dirt. "P... Please…"
The words collapsed with her.
Her body went limp, the world snapping to black before she could take another breath to calm herself.
//////////
"Ser?"
What to eat... should have some pr-
"Ser!"
Roderich didn't look back immediately, but merely sighed into his palms... God forgive a man tries to have a few moments to himself.
"What now?" He asked in exasperation, his lips turning up in a sneer.
The squire huffed, trudging through the waist-high ferns. "How much further are we patrolling? My legs feel like boiled cabbage."
"Good," said one of his men, an older knight... Caleb? Kale? "Maybe they'll finally soften enough for you to keep up."
"I am keeping up, Chrys" The squire glared.
Chrys, right... what a weird name.
"Barely," another one of his men, a blonde fellow, chimed in. "You sound like a dying mule."
"I do not sound like-"
The knight behind him snickered, loudly, theatrically... we didn't exactly need to say much, did we?
The squire threw his hands up. "Ser, please tell them to stop bullying me."
"If you want them to stop Cedric, try being less bully-able." Roderich snorted, forgetting what crossed his mind but moments before... at least they had entertainment on patrol, rare that.
"That's not a solution!"
"It is," said the blonde knight, "but only for us."
Their laughter rippled through the trees, brittle but welcome. After the village they'd investigated that morning, any breath of levity felt like mercy. The stain of charred beams and collapsed roofs still clung to their armour.
Cedric pushed forwards through a tangle of roots, forcing himself to catch up with him. "Ser Roderich… what do you think did that? To the village?"
Roderich's jaw flexed, remembering how the bones were shattered like splintered wood. "A monster most likely... a bloody strong at that."
"So… like usual?" the older knight noted, lowering his voice.
"Like usual." Roderich answered, finding it ridiculous they even had to have this conversation... didn't anyone brief Ce-
Ah, no... I was supposed to, wasn't I?
Cedric swallowed. "Shit."
Roderich slowed his horse, scanning the treeline. The sunlight broke in narrow shafts here and there, spearing down onto moss and mud.
But... it was too quiet.
Where there should've been birdsong, there was only silence... no insects chirping at odd moments, not even the distant howl of monsters, just a hollow stillness that pressed all around them.
A branch broke somewhere off to the side, causing Cedric to jerk, spinning with his blade already halfway out its sheath, causing a few of the knights to chuckle.
"Careful, boy... might be a squrral."
"Ser, I swear-"
Another sound cut through the stillness... a hoarse voice, loud enough to notice but too faint to understand.
The patrol froze as Roderich lifted a clenched fist, halting his men while his other hand steadily drifted toward the hilt of his sword.
The patrol fell silent, armor shifting in small, controlled movements as they leaned in, listening for anything else that might follow.
Cedric whispered, "Ser… something's in the brush."
Okay, so I'm definitely talking to the Lord about his son...
"Prepare yourself, lads." he voiced out to the others, ignorely Cedric altogether as he unsheathed his blade.
Roderich moved first, boots sinking into the softened leaf-bed as the others fanned out behind him. His gauntlet tightened around the hilt, the feeling familiar, as he pushed through the brush, slicing through ferns and tall grass like butter.
"Stay behind me," he ordered the lone squire.
Cedric obeyed, for once, sticking close enough that Roderich could hear his breath hitch with every step.
It wouldn't take but a moment for Roderich to step into a small clearing no wider than a wagon. Sunlight fractured through the canopy above, catching on something golden on the forest floor.
Not something.
Someone.
A little girl curled tight against herself, mud smeared across her cheeks, hair tangled, chest rising in frantic, shallow bursts. She was trembling in her sleep, or unconsciousness, and hed fingers dug into the dirt with bloody nails.
Roderich's breath caught.
Then she moved.
Her eyes snapped open, cloudy and unfocussd, as she jerked upright with a strangled gasp.
Instinct fired through his muscles before reason could catch up... and his blade came down in a silver arc.
Cedric shouted something behind him.
And just before the blade sank into her neck, Roderich managed to halt his blade. The edge hovering over her skin, close enough that a single shiver could draw blood.
The girl stared up at him, chest heaving, eyes wide with fear flickering behind them.
Roderich held perfectly still, his sword suspended as his heart pounded hard enough to shake his ribs.
"…Saints preserve us," he muttered under his breath. "It's just a child."
////////
Mom…
The word drifted out of her.
You wouldn't leave me… right?
Her voice echoed in the emptiness, thinner, younger, trembling in a way her waking body never allowed itself to. She stood in a hazy field of flowers, barefoot, swallowing around a throat that always felt too small.
You'll come back for me…
A silhouette lingered somewhere ahead, indistinct... but familiar. Someone who should've stepped closer. Someone who should've reached out.
You'll tell me who I am…
Who I'm supposed to be…
Artoria's hands lifted, small fingers grasping at the shadow.
Whose your daughter…
The figure didn't answer. It only wavered, as if the dream itself didn't know the shape it was supposed to wear.
…and who's not.
The words fell heavier than they should've, sinking through the dreamscape like tossed into an ever-growing ocean.
Please...
Just tell me who one I am.
The silhouette dissolved.
And she was alone again.
GASP!
Artoria jolted awake, hands clawing at her chest as if trying to catch the breath that had fled her. Her lungs burned, her heartbeat hammering against her ribs, and for a moment she couldn't tell dream from waking... only that the ceiling above her wasn't the sky, and the sheets tangled around her legs weren't moss or roots.
She sat trembling, wide-eyed, the fading echo of her dream clinging to the edges her mind.
She stayed like that for a long moment, hunched forward, pulling in shallow breaths until they began to steady and soften, and slowly, very slowly, the panic begqn to loosen its claws from around her.
The silence helped, all things granted. There were no growls, no hidden beasts, nor the threat of a blade to her neck.
Just the faint tapping of rain against wood.
And when her heartbeat finally eased from a frantic gallop to something she could bear, Artoria lifted her head.
The room was small, and sunlight filtered through a shuttered window, catching on floating dust like drifting motes of gold. There was a wooden table in the far corner surrounded by a set of mismatched chairs, and a blanket folded neatly at the foot o the bed.
She couldn't believe it, or well, Artoria could but she wanted to pretend it was all a dream, and she'd wake up back in her bed... back in her castle.
"Wait, castle...?" She mumbled, confused.
Her brows knit as she pressed a palm to her temple. Images flickered before her very eyes, grand stone walls veined with ivy, a great hall lit by braziers, banners stirring in a wind she could feel against her bare face.
None of it belonged to this world she knew.
None of it had ever belonged to her.
And yet…
The contradiction gnawed at her. How could she yearn for a place she had never stepped foot in? How could she miss a word she had never learned within this lifetime? What even is a castle?
A sharp knock jolted her from the spiral, the thoughts shattering like glass as her hand shot to her waist, fingers clawing at empty air, searching for the weight of a blade that reasonably shouldn't exist.
The door creaked open shortly after.
A man leaned halfway into the room, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. Shoulder-length light brown hair, tied back into a loose half-ponytail, framed a weathered face marked by sun and harsh windz. His gaze swept the room once, before settling onto the bed... onto her.
"You doin' alright, kid?"
Artoria swallowed hard... she wasn't sure what answer he'd expect, nor sure she even had one for him. Her mouth parted, then closed again, confusion and leftover fear overtaking whatever she could've spun up.
He stepped a little farther inside, slow enough that even she could see he was careful, as though trying not to startle her.
"Didn't mean to spook you," he murmured, settling on the foot of the bed with a soft creak of wood. "But I had to check in… make sure you're still with us."
"I… uhm… I'm okay."
The words came out quietly, barely more than a breath.
Artoria pulled her knees up, curling in on herself as if trying to make her world smaller... small enough to hide, smaller to pretend. Her arms wrapped around her shins, chin dipping behind them, blue-green eyes peering at the man from over the barricade she'd built with her own body.
A few moments passed before she managed the rest.
"Who… who are you?"
"Name's Roderich," he said finally, rubbing at the stubble along his jaw. "I'm a holy knight of the Kingdom of Löwin… and I'm the one who found you out there."
Artoria blinked, trying to make sense of it.
Holy knight…?
What was the difference between a holy knight and a knight anyway? Neither title carried much meaning to her now.
Still, he wouldn't exactly make it to the Round Table… wait, what's a table got to do with this? She didn't even know if he deserved one, or if it was a place for heroes, or just a story her mother told.
Roderich, as if hearing her thoughts, stood up. "Come on," he said, stepping outside. "There's something you ought to see."
He didn't wait for her reply, only gave a small nod as he strode ahead, boots crunching softly on the gravel outside the little one-room house. Artoria hesitated, then slid off the bed, clutching the blanket around her shoulders, and followed.
The path led them to a cliff-face just beyond the house. Artoria stepped forward and froze.
The city stretched before her, grand and gleaming even under the overcast sky. White walls rose high, glinting faintly where raindrops clung to stone, towers piercing upward in clean, elegant lines. At the center, the cathedral dominated the view, its rounded roof catching the muted light, polished like silver... a second sun trying to break through the clouds.
Below, life moved with quiet energy. Carts rolled over cobblestone streets, cloaks flitted past, and horses trotted in pairs pulling lustrous carriages.
Artoria gripped the cliff's edge, knuckles whitening. "Its... beautiful," she whispered.
Roderich glanced at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Just… take it in. It's safe here, little one."
He paused, letting her absorb the view, before adding, "Welcome to the Holy City of Strahl."
/////////
I'm back! Sorry for the wait, got horribly busy with life ;;