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(Fate) Chapter 282: The scene in the Myth..(2.6k words)
🕑 Added 2025-02-06 19:45:47 +0000 UTCAnd with that revelation,
Many things that had already happened suddenly became far easier to understand.
On that day, when the Goddess of Fate descended from the Temple of Destiny into this Lostbelt—
On that day, Melly had traveled from afar, arriving as a guardian,
A watcher, entrusted by the Counter Force,
To oversee Promise and the Goddess.
And that was also the day they had already seen each other.
That night, in a shared dream, they had already met.
And so, from that day onward—
This moment had already been predestined.
This was the magic—
The miracle—
That two Flower Magi had woven together.
But Melly's purpose was to come to witness a legendary event,
A moment so grand that even the gods themselves would be in awe.
A painting, drawn by a single boy,
A scene that would transcend myth itself.
Meanwhile, Merlin had come for a different reason—
To end this flawed world.
Now, the six Bells of Atonement had tolled,
And their echoes resounded even within Avalon.
From the deepest depths of the abyss, the remnants of the cursed deity had risen.
As the tolling of the bells spread across the land,
The two Flower Magi together wove their most blooming magic.
In Celtic mythology, to which Merlin belonged, the world was home to gods, fairies, spirits, and monsters alike.
Among them, there existed a realm where these beings coexisted,
A world beyond the mortal plane—the Otherworld.
And Avalon was also part of the Otherworld.
The distance between the Otherworld and reality was, in fact…
Just a single step.
Thus, the flower magic, now in full bloom, became the pathway to the Otherworld.
Promise, holding Baobhan Sith’s dazed hand, led her into this realm.
At the same time—
Vivian of the past, holding Morgan of the present’s hand, arrived as well.
And the Goddess of Fate, Clotho, brought Artoria Caster with her.
At the moment they departed,
The once-still deity’s remains—as if finally unshackled, began its march toward Fairy Camelot.
Though Fairy Knight Melusine did not fully understand what was happening,
She had no choice but to face it head-on,
To halt the disaster it would bring.
"Prophecies and fate…"
"They truly are as messy as the legends say, unraveling into chaos the moment you arrived."
Merlin sighed as he gazed at the black-haired, green-eyed boy clad in fairy garb.
Hearing his words, Promise instinctively looked his way.
Their eyes met.
And beneath Merlin’s gentle smile, Promise gave a small nod.
"But—just as in the legends, the fate that was once set in stone has not only changed because of him—"
"It will also become something far more beautiful."
"After all…"
"That is the gift he has offered to the Goddess of Fate."
Melly, with her staff in hand, chuckled as she spoke.
Her gaze then turned to the silent Goddess of Fate.
Compared to Baobhan Sith’s current confusion,
The three women—Morgan, Vivian, and Artoria, had already calmed down, shifting their attention toward Melly and Merlin.
And then, after a brief moment of silence—
"This is… absolutely terrible!" (X3)
Looking at Melly and Merlin, the three of them spoke in perfect unison.
And immediately after they finished speaking, the three exchanged glances with one another.
In each of their eyes—
Was undisguised disdain directed at Merlin and Melly!
Because the moment the bells tolled,
And the sea of flowers unveiled the truth that had already come to pass—
Artoria had experienced a dream—
A dream that seemed to stretch far into the past,
Even though, in reality, it lasted no more than a single instant.
In that dream—
She saw herself.
She saw the life of King Arthur.
At that moment, Baobhan Sith, still in shock, instinctively turned to look at Morgan and Vivian.
Although she didn’t fully understand what was going on, but that didn’t stop her from feeling pure astonishment and confusion as her eyes widened in disbelief.
"Eh?! Two Mother Morgans?!"
Morgan, upon hearing this, gave Baobhan Sith a flat glance.
Vivian, on the other hand, looked at her in confusion, hesitated for a moment before flashing a soft, almost apologetic smile.
Yet even that gentle smile caused Baobhan Sith’s heart to be filled with warmth.
"Hmph. No matter where she is, Morgan is terrible at taking care of children, huh?"
Seeing this, compared to Merlin, who simply observed, Melly was far more reckless, making this blunt remark without hesitation.
Morgan ignored her completely and sharp gaze fell upon Promise instead.
Because by now, it was all too obvious.
This was all his doing.
"Oberon isn’t here?"
Promise swept his gaze around the area before giving a small nod to himself.
"I see… In that case, we should hurry back."
"…Promise, what exactly are you planning to do?"
Morgan’s voice remained as cold and sharp as ever, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
"Isn’t it obvious?"
Promise smiled and answered
"The bells have tolled, the deity has brought disaster upon the world. At this point, aside from forging the Holy Sword to end everything, is there anything else left to do?"
Hearing this, Morgan’s expression did not change.
She merely shifted her gaze slightly, landing on Vivian, who still seemed bewildered as she looked at Baobhan Sith.
That single phrase—"Mother Morgan"—had clearly shaken her.
"The fairy who rings the bells of pilgrimage becomes the material for the Holy Sword… If my past self is sacrificed, then my present self will cease to exist as well."
Morgan spoke, not out of fear of death,
But simply because, the fairy kingdom still had a mess that needed to be cleaned up.
So, she could not die.
Artoria was stunned for a moment as her gaze shifted between Morgan and Vivian,
Then toward everyone present,
Before finally resting upon the Goddess of Fate, Clotho.
"So… is this the reason I came here?"
With that, Artoria stepped forward.
She forced a resolute smile onto her face.
"If that’s the case, then let me be the one to forge the Holy Sword."
She smiled,
But aside from Baobhan Sith, there was no one here who could not see how forced that expression was.
Seeing this, Merlin couldn't help but sigh softly,
Yet he said nothing.
No, to be precise—
Even though Artoria herself had spoken,
Not a single person responded to her words.
Because at this moment, all eyes were on Promise.
"So, this place… is the Age of Gods, right?"
As the latter, turned toward Merlin and Melly.
"To be precise, this is Avalon—The Inner Sea of the Stars,"
Melly said, blinking as a beautiful, expectant smile spread across her lips.
Her voice was filled with excitement as she continued—
"But this place is indeed where gods, fairies, and beings of myth reside—"
"So, Promise—"
"It is time for you to show us your painting—"
"That miracle which once stunned the world—"
"A work that even the gods themselves could not help but marvel at!"
As she spoke, Melly raised her staff,
And once again, she began to chant that elegant fairy incantation.
The gentle wind stirred through the garden,
And a sea of petals fell like celebratory confetti,
As if heralding the arrival of an ancient legend—
One that was about to unfold once more.
"A painting?"
Hearing her words, Artoria frowned slightly, murmuring under her breath as she instinctively turned her gaze toward the quiet Clotho,
Who had, at some point, lifted her head,
with a subtle smile forming at the corner of her lips—
One that held the same anticipation as Melly’s.
At that moment, something clicked in Artoria’s mind.
And then—
She, along with everyone else, watched as Promise reached out and plucked a single white feather from the sky.
The moment the feather-brush touched his hand,
A pure white robe, untarnished by even the slightest dust,
Draped over him.
Witnessing this sight, an indescribable feeling welled up in Morgan, Vivian, and the others.
Then—
Promise retrieved the last Golden Apple from his belongings.
The instant he bit into it,
He lifted his brush,
And began to paint upon the sky itself.
To those watching—
It felt as though only an instant had passed—
Yet at the same time, it felt as if eternity itself had stretched on.
Even for Merlin and Melly,
The moment they blinked—
The painting was already complete.
And before they realized it,
The canvas had unfolded—
And they had all stepped into the painting itself.
The first scene was, without a doubt—Morgan’s.
But at the same time, it was also Vivian’s.
The canvas was divided into two halves.
On one side—
There was Vivian, bathed in the radiance of the morning sun,
Standing amidst friends who had supported her,
Fulfilling her fairy-tale dream by ringing the six Bells of Atonement.
She smiled brightly, surrounded by warmth and joy—
A fairy who had completed her duty as the Paradise Fairy.
On the other side—
There was Morgan, sitting upon a towering throne beneath the veil of night.
Her head was slightly lowered, her gaze piercingly cold,
Staring down at everyone below,
A queen who had long since despaired of all fairies,
Ruling through absolute domination.
Her expression was one of isolation and authority—
A monarch who had chosen to oppress rather than believe.
Through this painting—
Whether it was Merlin, Melly, Baobhan Sith, or Artoria,
They all bore witness to the immensely long life Morgan had lived—
Both as Vivian,
And as the Winter Queen, Morgan le Fay.
"So..."
At that moment, Morgan slightly parted her lips, breaking the heavy silence as she turned toward Vivian, her past self—so young and naïve, standing before her.
"Did you come here just to tell me this?"
Morgan’s voice remained cold, but Vivian smiled softly and nodded.
"Yes. I came to tell you that our dream… has already been fulfilled."
"On that journey, as the bells tolled, with Promise and the others’ help, I built the kingdom we once envisioned as our ideal."
"Even if it was fleeting… even if it will soon vanish… it truly existed."
Morgan remained silent, her gaze lingering on the painting—the one that depicted Vivian standing in the radiant glow of sunrise.
She did not speak for a long time.
And then—
"It’s been a while since I’ve felt this emotion."
Morgan murmured softly.
"Is this… jealousy?"
As the words left her lips—
She laughed lightly, unable to help herself.
After all, the person she was jealous of… was herself.
As the first painting faded, the second painting took its place.
This time—
It was Artoria Caster’s.
"Eh? This one is mine?!"
Artoria, feeling a mix of surprise and nervousness, turned to see herself depicted in the painting.
But—
She quickly realized…
The scene in the painting was not a pleasant one.
After all, unlike Vivian, who had found kindness and support, Artoria Caster had never received any warmth in the fairy kingdom.
Only pure malice.
Even the reason she had been raised was not out of love,
But because, upon realizing she was the Prophesied Child, the fairies planned to sell her for a high price.
The scene depicted her most helpless moment.
In a snow-covered wasteland, she curled up into herself, her body numb and barely able to feel anything.
And just like Morgan’s painting, this one too had two sides.
On the other side—
A king stood tall.
The background was a battlefield at dusk.
She had fallen, dying upon the battlefield.
Artoria Caster fell silent, staring at the scene.
She knew what the other side of the painting represented—
It was the future of King Arthur.
Yet—
Even knowing this, she couldn’t help but feel a little bitter.
Compared to Morgan’s painting, hers felt far too despairing.
"This is the past."
But at that moment, she heard a soft voice beside her.
It was Promise.
"And this—"
"—is the future."
As he spoke—
Promise waved his hand, and the despairing images disappeared.
In their place, a completely different future unfolded.
One that was truly hers.
A future where Artoria Caster had completed her pilgrimage, and had companions by her side.
Artoria stared in a daze, watching a dream-like vision come to life before her eyes.
She was still in shock and uncertainty when—
"I witness."
The Goddess of Fate, Clotho, suddenly spoke in a calm, unwavering tone.
"That… is your future."
The third painting followed.
This one was Baobhan Sith’s—
Or rather, it was the painting of Cernunnos, the Deity.
It revealed everything in the past—
How the god and the priestess once stood before the Six Fairy Lords.
How they were poisoned and betrayed.
How Baobhan Sith, now at the center of the deity’s revival, had unknowingly become its core.
And natural—
It showed the past she had spent by Morgan’s side.
The pain she endured.
The kindness Morgan had quietly given her.
Realizing the truth, Baobhan Sith turned her head, staring at Morgan in complete disbelief while, Promise smiled softly and spoke.
"So? I wasn’t lying, was I?"
"Your mother… really does love you."
The moment his words fell.
Beside them, Vivian scratched the back of her head, looking a bit awkward.
But looking between Morgan, who remained silent and Baobhan Sith,
Who, at this moment, looked so overwhelmed that she was on the verge of tears, Vivian finally stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Baobhan Sith’s head.
In the next moment—
Baobhan Sith burst into tears,
And threw herself into Vivian’s embrace.
As the final painting faded,
They stepped out of the paintings—
And the three completed paintings settled into Promise’s hands.
"...Thank you, for showing me that future."
Artoria Caster suddenly thanked the goddess of fate and Promise, then took a deep breath, and said with a firm expression.
"I am ready!"
Hearing this, Merlin couldn't help turn toward Artoria.
Melly, on the other hand, let out a small laugh,
Before stepping forward and ruffling Artoria’s hair.
"The Artoria of this world is really adorable!"
Artoria frowned, pushing Melly away slightly, clearly annoyed.
Just as she was about to protest—
"The materials to forge the Holy Sword are already prepared."
Merlin spoke calmly.
"That material—"
"—is Promise’s paintings."
"His paintings are recognized by the gods and the world itself."
"The vast blue sky and endless night serve as his canvas."
"The very essence of the world is his ink."
"His paintings—are the world itself."
"...Eh?"
Artoria blinked in confusion.
The red-haired Fairy Knight,
And even Vivian,
All turned their gazes toward Promise, who had already put the paintings away.
The only one who remained unfazed was Morgan,
As if she had already expected this outcome.
"That’s exactly right~!"
Melly nodded enthusiastically.
"Ahhh, but it’s such a waste!"
"I mean, these are Promise’s paintings! If we could take them back, every goddess who saw them would be so jealous—they’d go crazy with envy!"
As she spoke, Melly suddenly turned to Promise and pretended to speak pitifully.
"By the way, Promise-kun~"
"I’ve done so much for you these past few days, haven’t I?"
"Sooo… could you maybe… draw me a painting too?"
Seeing this, Merlin blinked, and his expression subtly shifted, looking tempted.
"Alright."
Hearing thus, Promise didn’t refuse, but without waiting for Melly to celebrate, he added flatly—
"If you come with me to forge the Holy Sword and become its material, I'll burn the painting for you."
The words fell—
And in an instant, Melly’s face twisted into despair.
"So stingy!" she whined.
"...Actually, this may not be a bad thing."
At that moment, the Goddess of Fate, Clotho, suddenly spoke.
"If you were to be painted into Promise’s artwork… I imagine many beings would be eager to meet you."
"After all, you have spoken quite a bit of ill about Promise in your heart."
Hearing this, Melly’s face instantly froze.
"Being chased by goddesses and heroes?"
Merlin laughed, amused.
"Sounds quite interesting, doesn’t it?"
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