The moment Bea opened her eyes, before her was no longer the palace’s ruined hallway. There were no traces of the barricading knights, nor the two boys desperately fighting would be seen anywhere. Surrounding her was only a deep, dark abyss that spread infinitely – an eternal void of black.
“Where… is this place?” The girl mumbled in shock. “Am I the only one here?”
“Now, I do wonder about that.” The same voice that appeared in her mind moments ago sounded once more, sending the young princess to a jump. Only when her body jolted in surprise did Bea realize she was practically floating in the air.
“W–Who goes there?” She sounded, her voice echoing through the abyss. But no matter how much she turned her head around, there was no one to respond to her, as if the voice was just a figment of her imagination all along.
Fortunately, she hadn’t lost her mind completely just yet, as the guiding voice answered once more.
“Focus, and look again. I’m right here.”
“Where is ‘here’?”
“Anywhere you desire.”
Bea tried to follow the instructions. Picking a random direction, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Regulating her flow of mana, the girl blinked. Once. Twice. When she blinked for the third time, there was really someone right in front of her.
She couldn’t figure out the person’s exact appearance – the only defining features were that of a grown woman’s body. Her jet-black dress blended perfectly with the darkness yet stood out like no other. Her long hair touched her ankles as the woman gently floated towards her spot.
At a closer look, the princess was shocked. The woman bore a striking resemblance to herself, from her silver hair to her crimson eyes. However, as if guided by instinct, Bea had also realized that their similarities were only surface-level at best – this woman had nothing to do with her clan, at least by bloodline.
“I have to say,” the strange woman was the first to speak up. “I never thought that I’d be summoned like this. You have my praise, child.”
“Who… are you?”
“.... Ah, yes, we start with the basic questions. But answer me this first, child – what era is this?”
“... Era?” Bea tilted her head in confusion. “I guess we call ours… Beginning of Guidance, or B.G. The year is 576.”
The woman pondered for a second, before letting out a sigh. “That is an unfamiliar term to me… I assume it means you’re far, far away into the future of my time. However, that streaky, unblemished silver hair of yours…”
She took a step forward, her hand raised to slightly caress Bea’s hair. “You’re a Bedryant, aren’t you? Why, that nasty Peter… So his bloodline lives to this time, even.”
The strange woman might have uttered those words with a light chuckle, but the young princess could feel nothing but a chilling aura of murderous intent, enough to send her body to an uncontrollable shiver.
“Hm? Do not fret, child of Bedryant. I shan’t harm you… not that I have the capability to do so, anyway. This is, after all, just a piece of my consciousness.”
“Consciousness?” Asked Bea.
“Indeed. I am naught but a fraction of my own will from a long time ago. When I created this sword of yours, I sealed part of my soul in there as well, to act as a guide to any future owners that needed assistance.”
“This sword… then, could you be Galatine’s creator?”
Replying to the shocked expression on Bea’s face, the woman nodded. “Indeed. I am Morgan le Fay, greatest human mage in history, creator of Britain’s three sacred swords, and elder sister to the legendary King Arthur Pendragon.”
“You’re… King Arthur’s sister?” It was one surprise after another for the young princess. “And Galatine isn’t an ornamental sword?”
“Preposterous.” The woman, now Morgan, scoffed. “Galatine is one of the three sacred swords of Britain, acting as its last line of defense against all enemies and one of the pillars of support for the king. Only someone truly shameless like your accursed ancestor would be foolish enough to brand it as merely ornamental.”
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“Shameless?”
“Don’t you know your own house’s history, child? You lot stole Galatine and made it a trophy after your ancestors murdered my son. And to think since you couldn’t use it, you had the gall to call it a decoration…”
“S–Stole?” There was an audible gasp in Bea’s words.
Seeing the girl’s reaction, the former mage of Britain paused for a moment, as if to check her opposition’s sincerity. Once she noticed that the princess meant what she showed, Morgan could only let out a sigh. “Truly a naive child, it seems…”
Before the claim, Bea could only stand still and lightly bow her head in shame. Every word Morgan had said was true – it was her own naivety that dragged everyone into this mess of a situation. And worst of all, when everyone else was fighting for what they believed in, Bea alone was powerless, unable to stand up to anything on her own.
“But, I will hand it to you,” continued Morgan with an amused smirk. “You at least have an extremely high aptitude for magic. It’s not every day someone gets to call me out from Galatine – even Gawain hadn’t done it once in his life. Now, what is it that you want from me?”
“I…” Bea bit her lips in thought. She was given a chance; she wielded in her hand the sacred sword Galatine, one of Britain’s three legendary artifacts, and the current symbol of royalty. Unlike her original expectations, it had power – perhaps enough power to get her, and everyone else, out of this endless bloodshed. And all she had to do was ask.
Just because she was powerless before didn’t mean that she had given up on her fight. With this woman’s help, she could do it.
“I…” Bea took a deep breath, then said with conviction in her eyes. “Show me how to use Galatine, so that I can better the name of our clans.”
Morgan, before the request, gasped in astonishment. A bit more, and she could even burst out laughing.
“A child of Bedryant, asking a Pendragon? Have you lost your mind, girl?”
“But… I thought you would help me?”
“I merely asked what you wanted from me,” answered the woman. “Never did I say that I would help you. Granted, I was going to if it was something reasonable, but outright giving you this sword? Not in a million years.”
Her final taunting words lit up a fire inside the young princess. As if all of her shyness and hesitation was blown away in an instant, Bea’s voice turned fierce and combative:
“I know that we’ve done many wrongdoings. But don’t act like you haven’t done anything wrong either. Do you know since the founding of our reign, how many times have you guys shown up to destroy this nation?”
“How should I know? I’m naught but a spirit trapped in an unsheathed sword.”
“So don’t judge us by our past deeds.” With each word, Bea grew more heated, taking a step forward and puffing out her chest, standing equal to Morgan with her final words. "This cycle of hatred will continue if we keep it this way. If you’re Arthur’s sister and Galatine’s creator, then show me how to use this stupid sword so I can break that chain for both of us!”
“Break this chain of hatred, you say?” The mage raised her eyebrows in doubt. “You speak lofty words for a weak girl, child of Bedryant. How do you even plan to break our hatred, when you can’t even break a simple fight between your loved ones?”
“...” Bea was silent. Once again, she was reminded of how powerless she actually was. But, the girl had gone too far to give up now.
“Well? Do you have an answer?” Morgan’s voice echoed through the darkness once more.
“I…” The young princess uttered. However, just as she was about to admit that she had no idea, a sudden thought rushed to her mind.
Breaking through the hatred of all… there was someone like that before. Someone whose tales had been passed through generations of humans from past to present.
Finally having life back in her eyes, Bea stood firm and spoke.
“I want to be someone that can bring peace. A person with a heart so big, they’d love even the people who come to kill them. A person so benevolent, they could shield the weak while paying no mind to their own wellbeing. A person so genius, they could rebuild the world even if all that’s left are ruins. A person so overwhelmingly strong, their presence alone would compel everyone to stop fighting.”
“And do you know what a person of that caliber would be called?”
“There could only be one person who can achieve that… God himself.”
Morgan’s eyes widened with surprise. “God, you say… then are you trying to become God?”
The more Bea spoke, the more her ideals became clear to her. “... If that is the case, then I shall become the new God. I shall fight, and I shall win. I shall become that benevolent God, to embrace all of Britain, nay, all of humanity in my arms. I shall be the one to put an end to all of this madness, to shine the light of peace and restoration to the flames of war.”
In front of the princess’ claim, Morgan could hold no longer. The mage of Britain burst out laughing, heartily and merrily just like a child.
“W–What’s so funny?”
“Child of Bedryant, you truly know nothing,” wiping her tears, she answered. “Fine, I’ll tell you. Unlike Excalibur and Clarent, Galatine has a will of its own. You either are a true owner it recognizes like my son Gawain once was, or you’re innately strong enough to force it open. And in the latter case, no one has managed to do so, not even Peter – that is, Bedivere himself.”
“Then…”
“I can give you a hint at least. The three swords of Britain work as follows: Excalibur represents the king’s will, Galatine represents the sun that supports the king, and Clarent represents the storm that cuts the king’s wrongdoings. Remember that, and maybe you’ll get a chance to unleash Galatine’s power.”
“Wait! What do you mean by that?”
“Consider it your final test, O’ Future God of humanity,” with a chuckle, Morgan waved her hand goodbye to the unsuspecting girl. “See if you can solve that riddle of mine, and unlock Galatine’s power on your own. Only then will you get the privilege of calling yourself things like ‘savior’. Farewell for now, child of Bedryant, and may we never need to meet again.”