{ a good king gone mad }

King Richard, Master of Saber Nero. affiliated with knight's vocation. ■ ■ ■ ♠ DRAWN INTO THE BACKDROP HERE you could fade, you could fade away BRIGHT LIGHTS ON A STARLESS NIGHT burn a hole in the dying day ♠

[madkingofthewind]

{ a kings calling } closed

[qualis-artifex-pereo-blog]

And so their fate was sealed.

The strength of a king, the will of a warrior, the soul of a poet; this holy trinity beckoned the servant who’s ideals echoed her would-be master so thoroughly. This war, bitterly fought over a wish granting device, had been her treasured glory in time’s past… through valiant efforts, she had led her master to victory! Despite that memory no longer making home in her cognizance, it had left her an overwhelming boost of confidence in her already divine rivaled ego.

She would win once again.

This was her promise.

The earth crackled under the weight of her arrival and the air flourished with the august flames of red and gold. Through this wavering ethereal haze, the servant stepped forth from her realm, the golden armor that adorned her legs applauding her entrance with every footstep. Emerald gifted eyes took a moment to appraise the blonde’s form, a smile curving across her lips in warm approval. In a quick motion, the emperor pierced the ground with the tip of her sword, hand placed over the handle in reverence.

“Tell me. Are you the one I am to swear my blade to?” Formality. The truth needed no words to secure.

“Rejoice… Fortuna’s favor has brought you victory! Soon, you will take solace with it’s physical form, not solely the intangible gift of my oath. Master… my conductor, my sheath! I am Saber, the strongest of all classes and most majestic of all those bearing the servant status.

Give rest to your worries! This world is now my dominion!”

[madkingofthewind]

Magnificent. There was no greater feeling than the sense of pride and exhilaration that blossomed in his chest. It was no mere transient, or fleeting 'hope', no simple, fragile fancy. This was real, unbridled confidence that yes, as she said, he had been favored, and victory would be in his hand.

"Perfect," he nodded, taking a step closer. "Any way I look at you, you are the perfect blade to sunder my enemies." There was a glowing confidence in his countenance, a warmth that might lend many to believe in a gentler kindness, but it burned on the ready eagerness to crush their foes.  

"A sword such as yourself deserves only a sheathe of equal caliber," he crossed a hand over his chest, allowing the faintest nod of respect. "I am King Richard of Windor. If you would, enlighten me Saber; I wish to know more of you, and of the skills you possess. The sooner we've disposed of such formalities, the sooner we can move forward, and claim the victory you promise." 

There would be many battles ahead, many losses, and acting too hastily would only prove to be any one's downfall. Confidence they may have had in spades, but it would not win the war alone. Knowledge, as always, was crucial, and knowing his  weapon was the most important knowledge of all for any man to wield.

[madkingofthewind]

{ a kings calling } closed

For a longer moment than he'd realized, the Command Seal upon the back of his hand had held the whole of Richard's attention. For the first time since he'd arrived to Fuyuki, there had been no thoughts swirling in his head, just a dull, quiet void. As time marched onward, however, and the unyielding flood of thoughts reclaimed him, his mismatched gaze shifted to the summoning circle he'd created.

He was no stranger to such concepts as these, nor was he a stranger to war, and the unbridled need to win. He'd meditated on little else as he took great time and care in the creation of the circle. There was no relic to be had, which seemed likely to decrease his chances of calling forth a favorable servant. So instead he concentrated with every ounce of his being, poured his soul forth and had allowed for no thoughts other than those that drove him. His every conviction, confidence and ideal were sharp and stalwart, driven into every marking he'd made.

Standing in the secluded park with the moons glow washing over him, a smile passed over Richard's lips. More a twisted smirk of satisfaction, it darkened his entire countenance. He was a king, he could expect nothing but the most fitting of souls as his servant. 

And with that servant at his side, they would decimate any fool that dared rise against them. His thoughts lashed out with a near-maddening pride and viciousness, but it passed quickly, and determination took precedence, clearing and calming his mind.

Raising his hands and standing steady, his voice was firm, clear, and strong, as if he were addressing an army - rallying them to arms and preparing to lead them to battle. The truth was hardly different.

"O mighty warrior, I beseech you, come forth and aide me in this holy war, cut down my enemies to grant my deepest desires! Heed me, and rise from where you came with all your strength and wisdom!" 

[whiteknightling-deactivated2015]