01-22-2018, 12:11 PM
The darkness was cast aside by the illuminous white as it threatened to tear through her closed eyelids. A hand was lifted in an effort to shield herself from the worst as her eyes slowly opened.
“Mhn...” The woman bit her lip as she used one of her hands to prop herself upright. Of course, there was little around her, that wasn’t simply that white. Well, aside the quietly flowing fountain, of course.
It was an odd curiousity, really.
Why have absolutely nothing, but then place a fountain seldomly somewhere into that nothingness? What purpose did it serve?
It wasn’t large enough to serve as a beacon that could be seen from afar. Mayhap it was there to indicate a center point, something one could affix themselves by, were they to stumble on it.
Concluding not to dwell on the matter, the knight rose to her feet agilely enough to seem like she wasn’t wearing any armour at all. ...That would be because she wasn’t. Frankly, she was completely in the nude, as witnessed by her reflection on the fountain water.
On second thought, something did stand out, in the distance. A small dot, not larger than one’s finger glistened in the distance. Before making her leave, the knight knelt beside the fountain, sinking her hands into the water, forming a makeshift cup from those interwoven hands.
Not knowing when she would have access to water the next time - and even more so lacking a method of transporting the liquid reasonably, she knew better than to leave without having her fill first.
The air wasn’t particularly cold, nay. Not that it was warm either. It just...was. With those thoughts drifting in her mind, the knight began her walk. Luckily, there was little need for shoes with how smooth the ground was.
She could remember her name, Artoria Pendragon. Her childhood, Ser Ector...Ser Kay.
Caliburn, the stone, Merlin. Her never ending training as well as the time she spent traveling around Britain in search for experience and understanding.
Caliburn shattering, the replacement for it, the holy sword Excalibur or the holy spear Rhongomyniad. With each step, a memory flashed back into light as bit by bit the knight walked through the white void. But more so, walked through her life.
This was likely purgatory, the woman thought as she took another step. It made sense. With each step, a memory more recent than the one that had come before it. So it was likely, that once she remembered her death, she would reach the end of this place. Mayhap she would die again.
----------
After what seemed like thousands and thousands of steps, the King of Knights could finally see the dot in the distance clearly. It was a large wooden chest. Bearing no lock or restraints, Artoria closed the remaining distance to the coffer as she knelt before it.
Further inspection yielded that it bore the insignia of the round table. Which of course meant that Artoria herself had the utmost authority to open the container, as lifted the top before pushing it back.
She was greeted by a fierce lion-like helmet with copious blonde fur worked into the top and back pieces, forming something resembling a mane. It was her old helmet, one that she’d used throughout her life. And now it was here.
As she place it aside and continued to sort through the coffer’s contents, she could find her gauntlets and grieves alike, as well as her white cape. As she donned the helm gauntlets into her hands and greaves onto her legs, she pulled the cape onto her shoulders, closing the clasp that held it in place. As she placed the helm atop her shoulders she pulled the massive cape closed, veiling her otherwise naked body from sight of any who may have peered for a glance.
And so, the King of Knights, armed with a helmet, gauntlets, grieves and a cape, continued her journey through nothingness.
“Mhn...” The woman bit her lip as she used one of her hands to prop herself upright. Of course, there was little around her, that wasn’t simply that white. Well, aside the quietly flowing fountain, of course.
It was an odd curiousity, really.
Why have absolutely nothing, but then place a fountain seldomly somewhere into that nothingness? What purpose did it serve?
It wasn’t large enough to serve as a beacon that could be seen from afar. Mayhap it was there to indicate a center point, something one could affix themselves by, were they to stumble on it.
Concluding not to dwell on the matter, the knight rose to her feet agilely enough to seem like she wasn’t wearing any armour at all. ...That would be because she wasn’t. Frankly, she was completely in the nude, as witnessed by her reflection on the fountain water.
On second thought, something did stand out, in the distance. A small dot, not larger than one’s finger glistened in the distance. Before making her leave, the knight knelt beside the fountain, sinking her hands into the water, forming a makeshift cup from those interwoven hands.
Not knowing when she would have access to water the next time - and even more so lacking a method of transporting the liquid reasonably, she knew better than to leave without having her fill first.
The air wasn’t particularly cold, nay. Not that it was warm either. It just...was. With those thoughts drifting in her mind, the knight began her walk. Luckily, there was little need for shoes with how smooth the ground was.
She could remember her name, Artoria Pendragon. Her childhood, Ser Ector...Ser Kay.
Caliburn, the stone, Merlin. Her never ending training as well as the time she spent traveling around Britain in search for experience and understanding.
Caliburn shattering, the replacement for it, the holy sword Excalibur or the holy spear Rhongomyniad. With each step, a memory flashed back into light as bit by bit the knight walked through the white void. But more so, walked through her life.
This was likely purgatory, the woman thought as she took another step. It made sense. With each step, a memory more recent than the one that had come before it. So it was likely, that once she remembered her death, she would reach the end of this place. Mayhap she would die again.
----------
After what seemed like thousands and thousands of steps, the King of Knights could finally see the dot in the distance clearly. It was a large wooden chest. Bearing no lock or restraints, Artoria closed the remaining distance to the coffer as she knelt before it.
Further inspection yielded that it bore the insignia of the round table. Which of course meant that Artoria herself had the utmost authority to open the container, as lifted the top before pushing it back.
She was greeted by a fierce lion-like helmet with copious blonde fur worked into the top and back pieces, forming something resembling a mane. It was her old helmet, one that she’d used throughout her life. And now it was here.
As she place it aside and continued to sort through the coffer’s contents, she could find her gauntlets and grieves alike, as well as her white cape. As she donned the helm gauntlets into her hands and greaves onto her legs, she pulled the cape onto her shoulders, closing the clasp that held it in place. As she placed the helm atop her shoulders she pulled the massive cape closed, veiling her otherwise naked body from sight of any who may have peered for a glance.
And so, the King of Knights, armed with a helmet, gauntlets, grieves and a cape, continued her journey through nothingness.
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