"Your Majesty, the King Clan still refuses to send troops to support Camelot. They're only providing military and defensive supplies."
The day after the council meeting, Barghest delivered the report to Morgan.
"At this point, why be surprised?" Morgan replied without concern. "Their chieftain said long ago that if Camelot can't be held, any survivors can flee there for refuge."
"This..." Barghest had nothing to say.
She knew this Britannia was divided into three parts: Edinburgh, home of the King Clan, descendants of the Northern Fairies; Camelot, which ruled the other five clans; and Londinium, the God-King's city in the southeast. Though it held the smallest territory, Londinium had the most fertile land and abundant resources in the Fairy Kingdom. Combined with the God-King's rule, that human-dominated city had always controlled the momentum of war.
For the fairies, Morgan's reign was a stroke of luck. Without her, they would have long been wiped from these lands. Whether it was the so-called existence tax or other levies, anything was better than dying under the God-King's blade. The King Clan considered themselves the final bulwark. If Morgan's kingdom fell, they would become the last hope of the fairies of Britannia.
Morgan accepted this arrangement, asking only for regular troop levies and taxes. In a sense, Camelot and Edinburgh were allies, though Camelot's position on the frontline against Londinium made many harsh demands unavoidable.
"There's another message. The Mirror Clan reports they've already deployed their forces. Their troops are marching under Knight Portunes to reinforce Camelot," Melusine added.
"The Mirror Clan? That weak clan? Haven't they always hidden in the lake region, where the war can't reach, never taking part in any battles?" Barghest asked.
Morgan wasn't surprised. "They probably received a prophecy. If we can't withstand Londinium this time—after seventeen years of preparation—Britannia will be destroyed." More precisely, its fairies.
That thought made Morgan uneasy. Had Shiomi lost patience and decided to wipe out every fairy in one sweep? If so, it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. At least she would finally be freed from this long burden. She wouldn't have to keep playing the fairies' strict protector.
"Go make your preparations. The battle is close. As Fairy Knights, I expect you to give everything for Camelot." Morgan raised her hand, dismissing them.
"Yes. We will not fail you," Barghest answered crisply.
"...Yes." Melusine hesitated before responding.
Only then did she follow Barghest out of the palace.
Whether it was Shiomi's reason for starting this war or Morgan's attitude toward it, Melusine suddenly felt her own purpose slipping out of focus. As one of Morgan's earliest followers, she had treated this matter as a mission entrusted to her by Shiomi.
The one who gave her a new life had never looked at her directly. She once believed it was only because his eyes were fixed solely on Morgan. But now...
Standing atop Camelot's tower, Melusine looked toward Londinium. She no longer knew if she could keep going.
...
The days of peace were about to end. Londinium was once again preparing to set Britannia ablaze.
After the council at Camelot Palace concluded, the news spread at astonishing speed across all the faerie clans and cities under Camelot's rule. Yet what the fairies heard differed from clan to clan.
"Unbelievable. Only seventeen years have passed and we're marching into war again. I may have become chieftain just a century ago, but I truly admire how you all endured this for hundreds—thousands—of years."
As the Earth, Fang, Wind, and Wing clans mobilized reinforcements toward Camelot, their chiefs gathered inside the city to plan how they would receive and command their respective forces. It was then that Spriggan made this comment.
"What are you getting at, Spriggan?" Woodwose asked.
"Nothing. Just thinking you're all incredibly tough. Even now, I lose sleep remembering the hell that kept going until seventeen years ago." Spriggan gave a sly smile, looking anything but intimidated.
"If Londinium wants a fight, we'll give it one," Woodwose replied flatly. "Her Majesty has protected our faerie clans for two thousand years. We ought to—"
Aurora cut in with a troubled look.
"But this war has lasted for two thousand years. They've collected existence tax from us and prepared that throne. Why hasn't Londinium been wiped out once and for all?"
"That's hard to say," said Muryan, the chieftain of the Wing Clan.
"What do you mean?" Woodwose felt as though each of the three was hinting at something more.
"That God-King has been active in Britannia since the Fairy Era. He used to be called the Sage, didn't he?" Muryan said. "I checked the records. They mention it, and rumors from Londinium say the same."
"What are you implying, Muryan?" Aurora asked.
"After all these years of war, Her Majesty has never once attempted peace with the God-King. It's as if the war is meant to continue," Muryan said, sounding bored. "And Her Majesty appeared around the same time he did. Before that, where was she? She couldn't have just appeared out of nowhere."
Aurora's expression changed instantly. Flustered, she urged, "Are you suggesting Her Majesty and the King of Londinium were acquaintances? That's far too disrespectful. Stop this at once, Muryan."
"…Just saying what everyone's thinking," Muryan replied carelessly, letting her gaze sweep across the three chieftains.
None of them knew that not long ago, a guest named Koyanskaya had visited the Wing Clan. Muryan didn't know exactly where she came from, but they got along well and quickly became cooperative partners.
Koyanskaya had also told her that the God-King of Londinium and the Queen of Camelot shared a past. That matched certain points in the historical notes Muryan had collected out of curiosity, as well as the speculations those notes had sparked.
"Watch your words. With war so close, you choose now to smear Her Majesty…" Woodwose tried to reprimand them.
But the seed of doubt had already been planted, beyond anyone's control.
Fairies didn't hate war or bloodshed. What they hated was a war they couldn't control, and blood they were forced to shed.
As the clouds of war gathered over Britannia, each faerie clan began forming thoughts of its own.