A Drag Path | Bediguda
(In which Ritsuka Fujimaru and Sir Bedivere fight against fate)
The wisest seers of Uther’s court witnessed the brightest blessing Britain could ever bestow upon that day.
Premonitions said the infant-king’s future was so bright that it didn’t merely shine, no, it burnt the path before, during and after him.
Such was the tale of Arthur, son of Uther, and the greatest ruler Britain had ever seen.
The aloof great mage, half-incubus Merlin, only nodded in acknowledgement the night Arthur was conceived. He knew far more about the nature of Arthur’s existence than the entire court. Merlin was Arthur’s first brother in arms after all. However, he was more like an absent father and, more suitably, a kingmaker.
That being said,
“By the heavens, Merlin! You must tell me at once how to revive Ritsuka!” The silver-handed knight dragged his hands through the pure mud in Avalon, with his heavy heart close to the ground, his weight pushing down the mage’s precious flowers in his garden.
“We mustn’t disturb what the node of fate has already decided,” he replied plainly. Too plain, for Sir Bedivere, who ought to lose the most important person in his life twice. Merlin thought to himself, maybe it’s time to tell the truth, finally.
“I might be the King’s mentor, but you walk beside the King—”
Bedivere cut him off.
“This is not about Arthur!” Merlin stared wide-eyed, but he knew this was already coming. The first cycle of his karmic debt had finished long ago when he defeated the Lion King in the Holy City. That was when Ritsuka Fujimaru came into the picture.
This damned tapestry of fate.
Merlin crouched to see the misery and love on Bedivere’s face clearly. This time it’s different, he reassured himself. The silver-haired knight loved Ritsuka, the person, not the fate intertwined in her very existence.
“Bedivere.”
“You don’t dare console me with your feigned wisdom!”
“Dear knight—!” Merlin stomped his staff sharply, commanding attention. His Mage of Flowers' authority pierced through Bedivere’s stubbornness. Bedivere lifted his head, accepting whatever prophetic knowledge Merlin was about to tell him now, out of all times when Ritsuka was dying in the living realm.
“Ritsuka is Arthur.”
The revelation hits him like a mountain boulder. He shook, coughed, and spat blood; his soul almost left his flesh, but Merlin stopped it. It’s not his time yet.
“Pull yourself together!” he said, hitting him with his staff. This is not the aloof Merlin; this is Britain’s most ever-so-powerful Merlin, who fought beside the Round Table for the King’s glory. Discipline is absolute. Bedivere rolled over meekly; it disgusted him to see his steel of honour remaining in specks.
With all of his restraint, he pulled Bedivere by his tunic, continuing despite his poor condition.
“Ritsuka is a shard of Arthur. You mustn’t falter, Bedivere. Have you lost all of your proud chivalry when it comes to someone you love?” Ritsuka is Merlin’s Master too, but he doesn’t have a say in her fate. He is questioning the Heavens if Bedivere’s only purpose in life is to bear witness to unending legends.
“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Bedivere is cowering, blaming himself. Fate has a sick sense of humour. He cannot interfere as he did the last time. No, why did he interfere back then? If he hasn’t, he would still have his optimism to save what is actually his. He doesn’t need to know what the aftermath or the world-breaking effects of fighting destiny this time are. He would go headfirst. It is about his heart and humanity, not his flesh and honour.
“Burn me, and not her,”
Merlin scowled, “You do realise!—”
“But I love her!” he started pleading, brushing his metal gauntlets together, one stained with Ritsuka’s blood. She was unconscious, sleeping with grace in Chaldea’s emergency room, when Bedivere called upon Merlin desperately. It had tested Merlin’s nerves then to see someone fighting fate, but he gave Bedivere a chance to plead.
Merlin, the so-called enemy of humanity, couldn't help but to feel something hearing such a pitiful confession from the knight. He had all the knowledge in the world, but he lacked a human heart. And with it comes such human sacrifice.
Not once. But twice. Stupid, selfless Bedivere is willing to wreck the concept of time-space itself just to save an average mage of the modern-day, Ritsuka Fujimaru.
Why is that?
“You granted my wish to repent my sin towards the King before, why not again?” Bedivere started to become arrogant with his wishes. Merlin snorted, foolish human. Your legend has ended!
He struck Bedivere with his staff, but Bedivere didn’t move a single inch. There it is, a nostalgic, familiar view from their time. Sir Bedivere was the most loyal knight Arthur had ever allowed to join him. To everyone in the Round Table, Bedivere and Arthur should remain together forever, as he was the firm boulder to Arthur’s Caliburn, steady like the rocks in the lakes.
That was Sir Bedivere, from his memories. Sir Bedivere, the Servant, however, had become noticeably softer and more human than he had ever been during his lifetime. He smiled, laughed, and cried more. Ritsuka Fujimaru’s brilliance had shown him the way to become a human. Bedivere was just naturally drawn to the brightest light in the room.
Merlin let out a sigh.
“She must bear her own fate. Not even true love from the most noble knight can save her.”
“In fact, it’s not about saving at all, Bedivere.”
Merlin turned his back on him, his long, draping cape marking the distance between them. At the very least, he would allow Bedivere to witness the truth.
“When Arthur was born, fate was already predetermined for this entire world. The sheer blessings of his birth left an imprint, and the remainder of his soul polished the future generations with the shards of him.”
“It would be simpler for both of you if she were merely the reincarnation of Arthur. But Alaya has willed the world to preserve his light in fragments, for the sake of all humanity. He is the saviour, after all. Even Ritsuka doesn’t know she carries the same fate as our King. Let it be. Let fate flow its light as it must, Bedivere.”
Merlin met Bedivere’s eyes again.
“Even I don’t enjoy hosting,” he meant Avalon. The place where the givers receive, and the fighters rest.
“I know what it costs to reach here.”
“And I’m certain that I shall have you both in the future,” he said with an enigmatic smile. Bedivere doesn’t grasp his meaning yet. But it doesn’t matter. Some thoughts are meant to be pondered for a long time, Merlin grinned.
The path of the Sun’s rays may be carved in a detailed, determined, and absolute way.
It may kill, if it is too hot. It might be burdened if it is too virtuous. It is definitely lonely to be the brightest.
But for every light that shone on Earth, there is a ground that steadies and thus reflects its blessings for both of them.
Ritsuka Fujimaru and Sir Bedivere.
They are soulmates, yes, but they are also Earth’s sealant and protector.
May the Light guide us all.
And in a blossoming field of flowers, the Eternal Garden, the resting place for the purest of humans, a redheaded girl in a simple white dress waits patiently for her end.
Waiting is the most painful thing she has ever known. It cannot compare to the beasts, the Alien Gods she battled in her lifetime. Nothing ever compares.
Until the gate opens, and she looks for a shadow of him, even a fleeting memory of him will suffice.
And then she sees him.
It’s him.
It’s truly him.
Tears of relief and joy spill as she runs across the flowers, throwing herself into his embrace.
At last, her eternity is finally here.
