Take it easy and enjoy the read.
The Vimana touched down gracefully at the leyline's nexus, its golden hull glinting under the starlit sky.
"Fou! (Mind your step, dear Queen!)" chirped a small, fluffy creature, scampering forward.
"Thank you, you lovely little thing!" Marie beamed, crouching to admire it. "Oh, what gorgeous fur you have!"
Every gesture of the one called Marie was delicate, brimming with elegance. Her noble bearing was unmistakable—she was no ordinary soul.
"I can guess what kind of Heroic Spirit you are," Amadeus muttered, scratching his head. "This is getting complicated, Marie."
"Oh, just call me Olga, please!" came a voice, bright but tinged with embarrassment.
"Hm," Gilgamesh mused, a smirk playing on his lips. "A white lily and now Chaldea's flower of hope—my journey grows ever more vibrant."
"Flower of hope—" Olga echoed, her voice soft.
"No mistake there," Gilgamesh continued. "A slender woman holding up Chaldea's cause, inspiring others great and small. Shining brightly at the observatory of hope—a true flower, wouldn't you say? Though, not quite to my taste."
Flower of hope… It fit perfectly. A bloom that would never wilt, worthy of the Director and Chaldea itself.
"Th-thank you…" Olga stammered, flustered.
No trace of displeasure in her voice—she seemed to like it.
"Well, I've a queen waiting for me," Gilgamesh added with a hearty laugh. "No time for dalliances. Hahaha!"
If only he'd left out that last bit, it would've been a perfect moment.
Summoning her didn't seem so far off now.
"Perhaps we distinguish the heroic Marie from the non-heroic one?" Gilgamesh suggested.
"Ugh, too much hassle! Just Olga, please!" she insisted.
"…Don't wilt, now," he teased.
"I won't!" she shot back, defiant.
"Now, allow me to introduce myself properly," Marie declared, her voice clear and radiant. "I am a Servant, True Name: Marie Antoinette. A wandering Servant without a Master. I hope you'll judge me with your own eyes and ears."
"Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart," Amadeus followed, his tone dry. "Same deal. Barely aware I'm summoned, let alone a hero. Sure, my portrait's probably in every music classroom, but I'm just one artist among many."
"Marie Antoinette and Mozart…! Incredible!" Olga exclaimed. "A delicate flower of France, a royal symbol adorned with glory and tragedy, and a world-renowned genius composer and performer! Icons of an era, and I get to meet them!"
Marie Antoinette. A queen who loved her people, who wished for their blessings and peace.
Yet, swept up in the tumult of revolution, she was sent to the guillotine—a flower of both splendor and sorrow.
"Oh, I know her!" Gilgamesh chimed in. "The 'if they have no bread, let them eat cake' lady, right? Famous words. I quite agree!"
"Yeah, that line's legendary!" Rikka added. "It captures the extravagance and charm of her era. Love it!"
"I'm sorry," Marie interjected, her voice gentle but firm. "I never said that. I have no memory of it—"
"What?!" Rikka gasped.
"True?!" Gilgamesh roared. "Curse those historians! I've been made a fool!"
"Kyu, Fou! (Forget that clairvoyant dolt… Speaking of Marie Antoinette, let's talk bust size!)" Fou chirped. "They calculated it from a dress—109 centimeters! Wild, right? Wish I could've met that Marie back then!"
So bright, so cheerful. A lively spirit like Fou's made for great company.
"A musician as a Caster?" Rikka asked, tilting her head.
"I dabbled in magecraft," Amadeus explained, shrugging. "Not because I worshipped demons or anything—just fascinated by the sounds I could create."
"You're kidding… That's why you dealt with demons?" Olga asked, incredulous.
"That's artists for you," Amadeus said. "We do unthinkable things to satisfy our talents."
"In other words, a weirdo. Got it," Rikka teased.
"Ugh! I love this blunt banter from you roughnecks!" Amadeus grinned. "How about a song as a gift? One that'll keep you on the toilet for days!"
"Stop it! I don't want my existence erased!" Rikka protested.
"That's tech-obsessed types for you," Gilgamesh scoffed. "Reminds me of a certain fairy-tale writer—full of defiance. 'Take my head when I'm done talking,' he said. Gutsy. His stories were decent enough."
A song that causes… that? Tempting to hear, but I'd rather not see the King of Heroes camped out in a bathroom, so I'll pass on the request.
"I'm Mash Kyrielight, Demi-Servant," Mash introduced. "And this is our Master, Rikka Fujimaru."
"Yo, Rikka Fujimaru, Master! Chiissu!" Rikka greeted, flashing a peace sign.
What a casual Master. So friendly, it's almost disarming—definitely not my style.
"Oh, what a charming greeting! Chiissu!" Marie echoed, then paused. "Or… shikuyoro? No, that's not right, is it?"
"Gotta flirt more," Amadeus teased.
"Flirt, you say? Chiissu, Amadeus!" Marie tried again, beaming.
"Chiissu! Nice one, Marie, you nailed it!" Rikka laughed. "Keep that up—it'll cool a century-long crush in a snap!"
"Gil, chiissu!" Rikka called.
"Hahaha, that greeting drags down your dignity," Gilgamesh said, waving a hand. "Banned."
"Aww, come on!" Rikka pouted.
"Marie—no, Olga—could've used some of that honesty," Rikka muttered.
"What was that?" Olga snapped.
"Nothing, nothing!"
"Come on, country girl, your turn," Gilgamesh prompted.
"…Jeanne d'Arc," Jeanne said quietly. "Pleased to meet you."
Her tone was heavy, shadowed. What was wrong?
"I've heard of you," Marie said warmly. "Jeanne d'Arc, the saint who saved Orleans with her flag."
"I'm no saint," Jeanne replied, her voice low. "Just a country girl who ignored the sacrifices piled along her path… who never knew love, only swung a flag to build muscle."
She glanced my way, fleetingly.
"Something to say to me?" Gilgamesh asked, catching her look.
"Nothing!" Jeanne snapped, turning away.
"Tch, wishy-washy woman," Gilgamesh chided. "Decisiveness and charging forward are your virtues, aren't they? Hesitating's not like you. No wonder that witch outsmarted you."
"You—!" Jeanne bristled.
"Hahaha, you're fun to tease," Gilgamesh grinned. "A fine audience."
"I don't care!" Jeanne huffed.
"Hehe, you two are close," Marie said, her eyes sparkling. "Jeanne, if you're not a saint, can I just call you Jeanne? And if I'm just Marie, will you call me that too? Oh—sorry, Olga-Marie-chan, for the confusion!"
"No, you're a hero. You don't need to mind us humans, Marie-san," Olga replied.
"Marie-san!" Marie gasped, delighted. "Marie-san… what a lovely ring! Please, keep calling me that! Marie for you, Marie-san for me—clear, right?"
Marie bounced with joy, her radiance undeniable. Truly, a flower of the people.
"You only ever praise people," Amadeus said, shaking his head. "Bad habit. Makes folks misunderstand you."
"Hmph, I get it! List flaws, right?" Marie retorted. "Fine! Dirty-minded! Human trash! One-dimensional pervert! If you love music so much, why not become sheet music?"
"…Ouch," Amadeus said, clutching his chest. "Coming from you, that stings."
"Queen! Say that to the King too!" Rikka urged.
"Extravagant, wasteful, heartless!" Marie declared, turning to Gilgamesh. "Those red eyes of yours scare me silly! Don't you ever lack for friends?"
"Hahaha! Well said, I permit it!" Gilgamesh roared. "All true! But Roman, we'll have words later."
"Eek! Rikka-kun, got any Command Seals left? Stop him!" Roman yelped.
"Hahaha!" Rikka laughed.
"Your eyes aren't laughing—! Damn, is this the end for me?!" Roman wailed.
"Now, bask in the honor of my introduction!" Gilgamesh declared, striking a pose. "I am the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh! The origin, the absolute sovereign! My class? The gorgeous supreme king!"
"So gorgeous!" Marie swooned.
The group, fresh from surviving their first deadly trial, let their guards down, their chatter bubbling endlessly.
No need for serious talk now. A journey isn't just hardship.
Connecting with others—that's the heart of the adventure.
Not every moment of a journey is steeped in pain.
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