The sky above was cloudy, rain fell softly, a steady rhythm that blurred the garden windows of the Pendragon estate in a misty veil.
Inside one of the upper rooms, Arthur stood quietly in front of a tall mirror, adjusting the collar of his black suit.
The fabric was tailored to fit him just right, his tie was straight, his shoes polished, his shirt a sharp white against the black.
He looked, by all accounts, like someone attending a formal ceremony, but his reflection betrayed him.
His eyes were tired, rimmed with faint redness that hadn't left since last night.
He reached up and fixed a crease in his sleeve, but no amount of tidying could make him feel ready for this.
He exhaled, slow and shaky.
A knock tapped against the door.
Arthur didn't take his eyes off the mirror.
"Come in."
The door creaked open, and Kay stepped in, dressed in his own black suit, more neat than Arthur's.
He glanced at Arthur, then offered a gentle nod.
"You ready?"
Arthur met his cousin's gaze in the reflection.
He didn't speak, just nodded slowly.
They left the room together, walking in silence through the quiet halls of the estate.
Outside, the world had turned gray.
The rain was light like a fog.
The grass shimmered as they crossed through the garden path toward the Pendragon family burial grounds, tucked away behind a stone gate and trees that swayed gently in the wind.
The ceremony was small yet intimate with only the immediate family was present.
Arthur, Uther, Kay, and little Morgan, who wore a black dress and held tightly onto her brother's hand.
A few maids stood to the side under shared umbrellas, their heads bowed in quiet respect.
Arthur stood at the front, separate from the others, holding a black umbrella over his head as he stared at the white coffin that sat solemnly above the open grave.
Raindrops tapped gently against the canopy of his umbrella.
Each drop echoed in his ears like a soft drumbeat, dull and endless.
The priest stood before them, reading a quiet prayer.
His voice was calm and reverent, speaking of peace, of eternal rest, of the love Artoria left behind.
Arthur heard the words, but they passed through from one ear to the other.
Uther stepped forward to the podium next.
The man looked older today, his eyes more tired, his posture more slouched than usual.
He glanced at the coffin, and for a moment, his voice wavered.
"When we were children… I used to look up to her like she was the sun. Strong, kind, fearless. She never cared about rules or traditions. She just… did what she believed was right."
Uther began, his voice firm but low.
"She used to sneak out at night to bring sweet treats when we were kids. And no matter how many times I scolded her for sneaking out the estate… I admired her for it. I always did."
Uther's lips tightened as he fought to keep his composure.
"She was always better than I... but I never once felt envious of her. She wasn't just my sister. She was my idol. And I'll never forget her. Not for as long as I live."
He stepped back from the podium.
Kay put a hand on his father's back as he returned to stand beside the others.
Arthur stood there, unmoving.
Someone gently motioned for him, it was his turn.
He didn't want to go as he had nothing to say.
His legs felt heavy as if they were made of lead but he walked anyway, slowly, to the podium.
The umbrella he carried was set aside and the rain lightly dampened his shoulders, his suit, his crimson hair.
He looked down at the simple wood of the stand, then at the coffin.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out as his throat was tight and his chest was heavy.
But finally, words broke through the silence.
"…She used to tuck me into bed every night. Sometimes with a lullaby… sometimes with a story. Usually one about fairytales."
He said quietly.
He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving the coffin.
"She taught me how to hold a sword. She accidentally burned three batches of cookies trying to make a new flavor and still I ate them all without complain. She… always had a smile when I came home, even when she was tired. Even when I messed up, she was still supportive."
His hands trembled at the sides of the podium.
"I keep thinking... maybe this is all a dream... maybe I'll wake up,... that I'll walk out of my room and she'll be there in the kitchen... humming some old tune while making breakfast."
He said, voice cracking.
He closed his eyes, trying to hold it back.
His voice dropped lower, broken.
"I-I wish… I wish I could've done something... I wish… I-I could've protected her... But I couldn't... She's gone... A-And I…"
He couldn't continue.
The weight was too much.
Without another word, Arthur stepped away from the podium with his footsteps were slow, heavy.
He returned to his spot near the grave and stood there in silence, the rain gently soaking through his hair as he stared down at the coffin.
The priest gave one final prayer.
The coffin was slowly lowered into the ground.
The soft sound of pulleys creaking and soil shifting was the only thing anyone could hear.
Then came the earth, layer by layer, shoveled carefully over the white coffin until it disappeared beneath the soil.
Artoria Pendragon rests in peace.
Each member of the Pendragon family stood in turn, giving their final goodbyes.
Kay bowed his head deeply, one hand on his sister's shoulder.
Morgan pressed a small flower into the earth and whispered something to herself, eyes wide and solemn.
Uther gave no words, he simply placed a hand over the tombstone and stood still for a long time.
Then, they began to leave.
The maids paid their respects and quietly returned to the estate.
Eventually, Arthur was the only one left.
He stood there under the rain, his umbrella no longer with him.
His black suit were soaked and cold, but he didn't move.
He stared at the tombstone, reading the inscription carved into the clean marble:
[Artoria Pendragon]
[A kindhearted sister, a loving wife, and the best mom ever]
Arthur's hand clenched tightly into a fist at his side. The rain mixed with the quiet tears slipping down his cheeks, and he didn't bother to wipe them away.
He sniffed, barely holding in the sob in his throat.
"…Goodbye, Mom... I'll… try to keep my promise."
He whispered.
His voice was barely audible above the sound of the rain.
Arthur stood in silence, his shoulders slack, his black suit clinging wetly to his frame.
He simply stood before his mother's grave, eyes low, body still, mind quietly breaking apart.
Then, he felt it.
A presence, immeasurably strong, yet impossibly gentle.
It was unlike any he'd felt before.
Not demonic, not malicious, this one was... comforting like a gentle spring sunlight.
Arthur didn't turn as his eyes remained on the tombstone.
But then he noticed the rain had stopped falling on him and a soft shadow fell over him.
Feathered wings stretched above and beside him like a canopy, shielding him from the rain.
Arthur blinked.
"What are you doing here?"
He asked, his voice low, quiet, almost hoarse.
A woman's voice responded, soft and melodic, filled with sadness.
"I came to pay my respects, I only recently heard the news. My deepest condolences, little one."
She said.
The pain in his chest dulled slightly under the shade of those wings, like her presence itself was gently easing the weight he carried.
"I see... who was my mother to you exactly?"
He asked, his tone still numb, but with a trace of curiosity.
There was a pause.
"She was... my dearest friend, my one and only friend."
The woman said quietly.
Arthur's brows furrowed.
He finally turned his head slightly, eyes drifting to his left.
He froze.
Standing beside him was a woman whose beauty felt too divine for words.
She had long, golden blonde hair that fell like silk over her back.
Her eyes were like sapphires, holding the quiet sorrow of someone who had known loss.
Twelve angelic white wings were draped behind her, arched upward to shield him from the rain.
A simple white gown fell gracefully around her figure, and on her feet were delicate golden sandals.
In her hands was a bouquet of sunflowers.
Arthur looked at her face again but there were streaks of faded tears on her cheeks, proof that even angels mourn.
"…Sunflowers. That was Mom's favorite flower."
Arthur said quietly.
The angel nodded gently, her voice barely above a whisper.
"It was my favorite too. Because of her."
Arthur watched as she knelt beside the grave, the rain sliding harmlessly over her wings.
She placed the bouquet at the base of the tombstone with care, her head bowed.
Then she clasped her hands over her heart and prayed.
"Dear Heavenly Father, receive the soul of Artoria Pendragon, the bravest of warriors, the kindest of friends. Bless her path in Your kingdom, and may her light never fade in your holy presence. Amen."
A soft, holy glow bloomed from her body.
It bathed the grave in warmth, gentle and comforting.
Arthur, though part devil, felt no pain, only a peaceful feeling he hadn't felt in days.
He stared at her as the glow faded.
"I'm Arthur Pendragon. Artoria's son"
He said softly.
She turned to him, a small, sorrowful smile forming.
"I know. She spoke of you always in her prayers."
Arthur gave a faint nod.
He already knew who she was, his meta-knowledge made it obvious, but out of courtesy, he asked anyway.
"And you are…?"
"Gabriel, one of the Four Great Seraphs."
She said, her wings softly folding around her back.
Arthur stared at her a bit longer, eyes soft with awe and melancholy.
"She never really told me much about her time as an Exorcist. What was she like… back then?"
Gabriel smiled, truly smiled, and for a moment, the sadness on her face lightened.
"She was the first true friend I ever made. The first person who didn't see a Seraph. She didn't treat me like a symbol or a divine entity. Just a friend."
Gabriel said fondly.
Arthur looked away, a breath escaping his lips.
"Yeah… that sounds like her."
"She was stubborn, brave to the point of foolishness. But always for the right reasons. She would challenge anyone if she thought something was wrong. Even the Church."
Gabriel continued with a light laugh.
Arthur chuckled faintly.
"Let me guess. She did that more than once?"
Gabriel nodded with a sheepish smile.
"Oh, many times. I still remember the time she argued with the older priests over how to do their jobs. She was relentless, and always had a point."
Arthur could imagine it, his mother standing tall before the Church's higher-ups, just being herself.
They stood together in silence for a while longer, the mood softening, the storm of grief turning into a quiet drizzle of memory.
The sky remained gray, but there was warmth now.
"Do you think she's okay? Wherever she is?"
Arthur asked.
Gabriel looked at him gently, placing a hand over her heart.
"I believe she's exactly where she deserves to be. At peace, watching over you."
Arthur exhaled slowly and smiled, a small, fragile thing.
"Thanks… Lady Gabriel."
Gabriel smiled back.
"Please, just call me Gabby."
They stood together, side by side before the grave of the woman they both hold dear in their heart, the archangel's wings still shielding him from the rain.
And for the first time in a while, the weight on Arthur's chest lightened just a little.
DxD
Hello readers!
Part 3 is the last one, so we will continue next chapter.
Thank you everyone and see you later!