Let There Be Green

Link to article: Let There Be Green.


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[[include :scp-wiki:component:author-label-source start=--
|name=sailorenoch, rottingraisins, & Rosyfox2002]]


**Authors:**
[[*user sailorenoch]] - [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/art:faust-s-art-page Art Page]
[[*user rottingraisins]] - [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/art:rottingraisins Art Page]
[[*user Rosyfox2002]] - [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/art:rosyfoxs-art-pit Art Page]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:author-label-source end=--]]

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= Let There Be ##green|Green##

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[[span style="font-weight: bold; color: black"]] NOTICE [[/span]]
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The following are supplemental materials related to [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8307 SCP-8307] cycle ‘1940', to be used for documentation and archival purposes. The letter and drawings within this file were provided by POI-1125 [[footnote]] Also known as Kate Hayashi, also known as ‘Sir Kay’ of cycle ‘1940’.[[/footnote]]. Minor changes have been made to avoid breaching  ##green|protocol [[span class="taboo"]][https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/taboo 4000-Eshu].[[/span]]## 


Though the //‘Princess Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table’// manga contains no breaches of the protocol, investigations into why the designations ##red|Green Knight, Morgan le Fae##[[footnote]]This applies to any and all variations of this name as it pertains to the Arthurian character(s). [[/footnote]], and ##blue|Green Chapel## have not resulted in nomenclative breaches despite the corresponding entities/places originating within ##green|the woodland beyond the flue## have been inconclusive.


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Dear Dr. Dehlavi,

During our last interview, you took scans of everything I could give that you deemed relevant to the documentation of our cycle. While I’m fairly sure you got most of it, I neglected to show you this.

Attached to this letter should be part of an early version of Princess Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table’s fifth volume. The final version that made it to shelves is practically unrecognizable from this one. Nevertheless, I think it is the most honest version of events I can give according to what Gabrielle was able to tell me, and what I remember. I didn't witness what Gabrielle went through with the ##red|Green Knight## firsthand, but her story just as worth telling as the others. 

Thank you again for everything. I hope this helps you, somehow. It would mean the world to me if I could rest, knowing this has all come to an end. 


Warm regards,
Kate Hayashi 

Dated May 7th, 1995
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**Dramatis Personae**
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= Alys Fenwick .............................. King Arthur the Brave
= Laurette Chevalier ............. Sir Lancelot the Chivalrous
= Kate Fenwick ..................................... Sir Kay the Brash
= Margaret "Peggy" Rey .......... Sir Perceval the Innocent
= Gabrielle Headley ..................... Sir Gawain the Selfless 
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In the previous volume of //‘Princess Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table’//, Alys ascended to the throne after being bestowed the legendary sword Excalibur by the mysterious Lady of the Lake. Kate and Laurette were knighted under Merlin’s guidance, while Peggy proved her valor by facing the foul Questing Beast. However, Gabrielle, still not knighted, yearns to join the fight and defend her homeland. As war rages on, Merlin declares that Gabrielle must prove her worth before she can take on the title of knight.  

Will Gabrielle be able to claim her seat at the Round Table?


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In hindsight, orchestrating a birthday party for Alys in their hideout, in the middle of winter, during a cold and damp night, hadn't been the brightest idea. Though in their defense, the others had been thrilled by the notion of a Christmas feast together, and neither Laurette nor Gabrielle could argue against that.

But //Lord//, was it cold. 

The ruins of the ancient castle rise like jagged scales against the rugged moorland and indigo sky. It stands alone across the horizon, save for a lone oak tree by the entrance. A warm glow trickles out from between the cracks and crumbling walls, onto the weathered bricks. 

Gabrielle strides across the grass, following the soft beaming of the golden light. Clearly, someone else thought to come early, too. 

Stepping beyond the dilapidated outer walls, Gabrielle ducks her head through a crumbling archway.  She is greeted by Peggy, sitting cross-legged on the floor, weaving a small forest of festive shrubbery and holly, several bundles of it already adorning the castle walls. Gabrielle blinks. She doesn't remember making plans to decorate at all.

“Peggy?”

“Huh? Oh! Lily—hey! I didn’t think anyone would be here this early.”

The redhead sets aside her garland of pine and ribbon, hopping to her feet with the grace of a wobbly newborn fawn. Before Gabrielle has time to react, Peggy's body slams into hers, arms wrapping around her in a warm embrace. The force sends them stumbling, and Gabrielle lets out a startled squeak as she struggles for her footing. 

“Merry Christmas!” Peggy giggles.

“Merry Christmas,” Gabrielle chuckles, returning the hug. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be home?” 

“And miss the surprise Alys-mas party? Oh God, no! Want to help me decorate?” Peggy chirps, pulling away before returning to her festive greenery. 

Gabrielle’s bewilderment grows by the second. She carefully follows the redhead across the jagged, granite bricks of the old castle, roots and cracks cutting across and in-between them. Peggy sits down by the most in-tact window, the light of the rising moon seeping in through it. It’s a nice little corner of the ruin. Dry, too, with the roof above still being mostly whole.

Gabrielle plops down next to her atop of the sprawling red quilt Peggy laid lout to sit on. It was so big that it might as well have been a rug. She can’t tell what exactly Peggy is trying to make - it's certainly no decoration that she’s seen before. It reminds her of a wreath, with the greenery and ribbons that she is working with, but it’s clearly not one. 

Right now, that’s not her chief concern. 

“Wait, Peggy, what about your parents?” Gabrielle asks. “Don't you want to spend Christmas with them? I think I’d give anything to see my family right about now.” 

“Parent,” Peggy corrects, her voice barely above a whisper. “And Dad’s gone out. So, it all works out.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry. But if he’s not home with you, then where is he?” 

Peggy avoids her gaze, clearly considering her response.

“He went to the next town to celebrate with his side of the family,” she admits, eventually. 

She's still not looking up at Gabrielle, struggling to weave ivy around a circle of withy with one hand, the greenery slipping from her grasp once, then twice. Finally, she turns to Gabrielle, handing over the holly and mistletoe. “Hold these for me for a second?”

Gabriel nods, awkwardly holding the sprigs. “Why didn’t he take you with him?”

“Does it matter?” Peggy exhales, her breath a cloud of frost in the frigid air. “It’s been like this for some time now.” 

She shrugs and plucks another bit of holly from the pile. She weaves it in with quick fingers, then lifts her head back up with a small, wistful smile. 

“Besides, I’d much rather be with you all! I’ve never had friends like you before, and it’s more fun for me this way.” With that, she finishes her craft and holds it up. “Ta da!”  

Gabrielle’s gaze narrows, her eyes catching a glint of candlelight. Did her father even care about her? Peggy never even talked about him, except for when she was reminiscing about being little. How often did he leave her home alone?

Peggy's craft isn't really round, nor does it have the hole in the middle that a wreath would. If anything, it resembles mistletoe, with all the greens sprouting in a tiny bouquet held together by withy and a bright red ribbon. Peggy carefully secures a candle to its peak, lifting it by a delicate string handle. “We used to put some apples on the bottom of them before the war. Can’t do that now with the rationing. That’s ok, though! I think these look pretty enough, don't you?”

“They’re pretty, but what are they?” 

“Cornish bushes! I keep forgetting you're not from around here. It’s an old tradition. My mum used to say they're from back when we used to believe in a bunch of gods and fairies,” Peggy giggles. “You want me to show you how to make one?” 

Gabrielle hesitates, but smiles. “Sure.” All the fumbling with strings and stems to come would be worth it for the way that Peggy’s face lights up. She’s a very hands-on teacher, guiding the taller girl’s hands through twisting the first few twigs together, pointing and telling her to poke here, tie a knot there, and so forth until she thinks Gabrielle has the hang of it.

Making the bush was a nice distraction, but it wasn’t long before Gabrielle’s curiosity and concern got the better of her again. “Peggy?”

“Mm-hmm?” 

“You said you didn’t have any other friends before us. How come? You seem perfectly nice to me.” 

“Well, I didn’t go to a fancy school like you. I couldn’t! If I went to school, who would look after all the chickens and tend to the garden while my dad is out fishing? It’s just a shame that taking care of the chickens and plants didn’t lend itself well to making friends. I had no time, and I couldn’t find any other girls my age, anyway. It was worth the wait, though!”  

”I guess that all might seem a little silly to you. I bet you have plenty of friends back home.” Peggy looks down at her hands, chuckling nervously.

Gabrielle’s silence echoes across the small room. She stands up and begins to search for a place to hang her Cornish bush instead of answering. 

“Wait… no! You’re not serious, are you?” Peggy’s face drops. She scoops up her matches off the floor and toddles after the taller girl like a kicked dog. As she speaks, she gets up close to her, standing on her tip-toes to light the candle on top of the bush. “But that doesn’t make any sense! You’re one of the kindest, most polite people I’ve met! Do you know that? You do know that, don’t you?”

It's Gabrielle's turn to look away, staring stubbornly at the decoration she mounts on the wall. A tired smile slinks across her face before she turns to grab one of the other bushes Peggy had finished earlier. “I know, Peggy. But things are different for me. //Really// different. If I could, I would live like you.”

“What? No! You wouldn’t want that, trust me.”

“Oh, yes I would. I’ve got to be more cordial and elegant than all the other girls. My father and his side of the family expect me to live up to these impossible standards, to somehow make up for the fact my skin isn't porcelain white. Other aristocratic families see us a certain way, they take the term blue blood very seriously, and… ” 

She trails off, running out of breath. 

Peggy lights another candle, firelight dancing across her gloomy features. “I… I think I understand.” Her voice is gentle, a ghost in the wind. 

Gabrielle glances at her and nods, hanging up the last bush before Peggy wraps her arms around her from the side. Gabrielle looks down at her and returns her embrace.

They linger like that for a little longer than either of them would like to admit. 

Peggy rubs her eyes and finally lets go. “Well, chin up! None of that matters now. We’ve got each other, right? And Laurette and Kate and Alys!” 

“Yes, you’re right.” Gabrielle is reassured by her words. 



No more words can be exchanged before a cacophony of footsteps thunder across the grass outside, loud in the winter night. 

“Speaking of,” Gabrielle chuckles. She can see three figures racing towards them from the dark. She’d be more concerned if she didn’t know the banter and laughter of her friends by heart. 

Kate zooms through the courtyard first, barreling towards them as a ‘totally very furious’ Alys chases after her, cackling. In the back, Laurette is struggling not to chuckle at them, fist up to her mouth as she trails the two. 

“Oi! Get back here!” Alys bellows, her winter cape, a gift Laurette had given her, fluttering behind her. 

“You’ll never take me alive!” Kate howls, running laps around the room with a present clutched in her hands. 

Alys follows her sister in leaps and bounds, getting close enough to snatch one hand at her. She misses as Kate swerves out of the way and towards the decaying stairs of the tower. 

“Kate! Come on! Give it here! It’s mine!” 

Kate careens up the stairs, holding the present as far away from her sister as she can. 

“Nope! Nuh-uh!”

“//What do you mean, nuh-uh?// You arse! It’s my present!” Alys yells, lunging for Kate, who is slowly backing herself into a corner in her attempts to dodge her sister.

With no other options left, Kate stands on her tip-toes and lifts the present high above her head, trying to keep it out of Alys’ reach. 

“I //mean// nuh-uh! Not until we’ve sung happy birthday, you twit!”  

Alys halts, gasps dramatically, and puts a hand across her heart. “How dare you! You wound me,” she crows, barely holding back laughter. “And on my birthday, too! What betrayal is this? What did I do to deserve such treachery in my own court, by my own knights?!” Her hand comes up to her forehead. The others below snicker at their dramatics.

Kate rolls her eyes and lowers the gift for a moment. “Oh, //please//, you’re the one wh—” Her would-be lecture is cut short by Alys taking the opportunity to grab the gift, trying to pull it from her arms. 

Laurette and Gabrielle watch from below, side by side, chuckling to themselves. “How’s the cape? Does it fit? Did she like it?” Gabrielle asks. 

“She loves it,” Laurette hums before nudging her roommate's shoulder. “Thank you for helping me with it.” 

“Of course,” Gabrielle chirps. “I’d much rather me do the sewing for you than you pricking your fingers eighty times.” 

Laurette’s face falls, and she huffs indignantly. “Okay, well, I don’t think I would’ve done //that// bad.” 

Gabrielle opens her mouth to disagree, but is cut off by the hollering of the ongoing battle upstairs. 

“Give it!” Alys hollers, yanking it towards her.
  
“No!” Kate yanks the gift back. 
 
“Let go!” And back again. 

“Over my dead body!” Once more with feeling.

Alys scoffs. “Oh yeah? Then I shall have to slay thee, you Mordred!” She pushes forward, causing Kate to stumble and fall to the ground, dragging her sister down with her. No longer able to keep up their play act, they break out into laughter, the worn stone quaking in anguish below them.  

Gabrielle’s eyes widen at the sound of it. “Alright, that’s enough, you two,” she calls. “Before someone gets hurt.” 

When neither of them listen, Laurette clears her throat and cups one hand around her mouth. “Alright, alright! Enough!” Alys freezes and looks back to Laurette. The older girl’s gaze falters for a split second before she coughs. “We’ll deal with the traitor after Christmas.”

“WHAT?” Kate blurts. 

“HAH! Checkmate!”  Alys cheers, lifting herself and her present up off the floor. The stairs grumble in protest as she descends them. Kate— arms crossed with a pout on her face— isn’t far behind. 

For a time, the girls are well. Laurette unpacks a picnic basket filled with all the goodies they could collectively sneak out from the Christmas dinner table, and Peggy pulls out a tea set of mismatched cups and plates from her collection. They're one of her favorite things in her whole horde of knick-knacks and loose parts, she says. 

The quilts and pillows in the castle ruins, long brought over by Peggy, are piled around an uplifted stone that they called their ‘round table’. In actuality, it probably used to be the foundation of a pillar. Alys sits on her crumbling throne of unstable stone and pillows at one end, and they toast fizzy drinks to a merry Christmas and, of course, a happy birthday to Alys. 

When dinner is done, Laurette pulls one last thing out of the bottom of the picnic basket: a cupcake with a lone candle stuck on top of it. Alys’ eyes follow it as she places it onto a tea plate and gently sets it down in front of her. Peggy leans over and sets the candle alight, before they all erupt into song. Alys’ eyes sparkle as they sing, hands crossed over her heart. 

For a moment, there is joy enough to forget that there was ever a war at all. 

Then, Alys blows out the candle.

The knights cheer and clap for their king. Kate grins and shoves the present she had pilfered earlier at Alys. “Okay, //now// you can open the pres—” Outside, the fall of hooves, loud as a storm, pounds across the earth. Kate stops mid sentence. “—ent? Do you all hear that?” 

The group falls silent, and the sound grows louder. Closer. 

“… Hoof steps? Did Merlin finally get us horses for Christmas?” Kate muses quietly. Peggy lights up at the possibility. 

Laurette’s face pales. “No, I don’t think so. I’m not sure what it is,” she lies. “But it’s nothing good.” 

Peggy chugs the last of her drink and then stands up. “Well, what are we waiting for? Christmas isn’t about to save itself.”  She turns to grab her crossbow, but Gabrielle nabs her by the sleeve.

“We don’t know if it’s actually anything dangerous yet. If we all pull out our weapons too quickly, we could be shooting ourselves in the foot,” she says.  

Peggy’s mouth opens, but Alys talks over her. “Gabby’s right. We should stay calm. Besides, we’re defending Britain, aren’t we? We have to be brave.” 

“I mean, I’m all for being brave but— ” Kate gulps and shuffles to her sister’s side, cowering behind the ‘throne’ ever so slightly. “What in God’s name is that?” 

Her trembling hand rises, finger outstretched as she points out into the darkness past the open archway. 

The booming of hooves grows louder and louder, until the source of it all reveals itself. ##red|A hulking figure atop a horned steed##, both as emerald green as the hills behind them would turn in spring, emerges from the black.  The rider looms larger than any man they've ever seen, and carries an axe nearly the size of Peggy on her back. It looks like it could cleave through an entire forest in one swing. 

The sight leaves the group as white as snow. ##red|The mare## storms in  through the open archway: A large beast with a single, spiraling horn sprouting from her head, golden bells jangling from her bejeweled harness, and a mane that flows long, green as vines, down her body.  

She matches her owner ##red|a girl who is half giant upon the earth##, with a well-built figure in green garments, fur and fair. Her hair grows long around soft facial features and strange, violet eyes. Despite the large weapon, she wears no armor, only wielding a single branch of holly in one hand. The pair come to a halt before the group. The knight dismounts off of her steed’s saddle, then bends the knee before the young girls’ table. They all exchange a silent sigh of relief. All except for Laurette. 

“Which among thee is King Arthur?” The knight asks. Her voice is loud and confident, her tongue thick with an Irish accent. 

Kate pokes her head out from behind the throne. “That’s //Princess// Arthur to y—” 

Alys’ hand claps over Kate’s mouth, and she clears her throat, sitting herself upright on her throne. “‘Tis I, Princess of Britain and head of this Round Table. Welcome! Might I inquire what it is that you’ve come all this way for?” She’s grown used to playing the part, if a bit hammily. 

“Good Princess, be assured by this green branch I bear that I wish to pass peacefully. I have not come dressed for battle. I have many well-made weapons and armor sturdy as stone, but I have left them behind.” The knight lifts her head to meet Alys’ gaze and slowly stands.

“The bravery of the folk is heralded across the land and beyond.  They say your knights are the bravest, finest, and most bold there are. In joust and all fair knightly play, renowned for their //courtesy//, or so men say.”  

Alys gives a side-eye to Kate at the word ‘courtesy’ which was said with a certain sarcasm. Slowly, she lowers her hand from her sister’s mouth and nods for the ##red|Green Knight## to continue.  A small smile spreads across the unfamiliar girl’s face, and she pulls the axe from its place. Its blade downturned, she plunges it into exposed soil between the granite bricks and leans lightly upon its handle. 

“T’is that which brings me here. If ye be so bold as all men say, then the favor that I ask ye surely will grant me.” 

The table looks expectantly up to Alys, who hums in thought. “How can I know thou art trueth?" Her tongue caught on the 'th' sound. "Thou bringest no armor, but bear a weapon so large and sharp as this. What is thy requesth?” 

A jolly laugh rises in the ##red|Green Knight##’s throat. “I bring no war, my liege, for I have no want to fight knights barely grown past my knee! In strength, no girl in this castle could match me. T’is Yuletide and New Year! Therefore, within thy court, all I crave is a Christmas jest. If any knight finds herself so valiant of hand and bold of blood and brain, I dare her to play stroke for counter-stroke with me.” 

“Stroke for counter-stroke…?” Peggy echoes, confused.

“Shot for shot,” Laurette clarifies. “If I remember correctly, it’s a game where you hit your opponent, and then your opponent strikes you back in the same place.”

“Couldn’t one of us just scratch her arm or something, then?” Gabrielle questions.

“You could, but that would be a cowardly move. This is about pride!” Kate responds. 

“I mean, yes, we would be cowards, but we’d be alright, yes?” Gabrielle begins, but isn’t able to finish her thought. 

“Indeed! Thou art bright!” crows the ##red|Green Knight## to Laurette. "She who is valiant enough to test my words and lift this axe, may strike me wherever she pleases and keep the axe as a gift. I will take her blow and, in a week’s time, she shall grant that same grace to me.” 

Silence echoes across the table. The girls look at each other, then back to the stranger. Peggy’s eyebrows raise; Kate remains hidden behind the throne. Alys’ eyes are trained on their guest, but no one dares to utter a word. After a moment, the strange girl laughs mockingly.

“What? Is this Arthur’s court? Is this her gallant band whose fame hath run here and far through many a realm and land? Where be your pride? Your conquests, wrath, and fierceness, where be they?” She laughs hard enough to double over momentarily. “Here now is the Round Table of such renown, overthrown by a little knightly game?” 

Kate doesn't budge from behind her sister, casting cursory glances to the others. Peggy squints and ponders if she could lift something so big. Alys’ face hardens in anger at the disrespect on display, her hands curling into fists with a grip so hard that her knuckles turn white. 

Gabrielle watches Alys with a frown, seeing the tremor of rage in her. Across the table, she looks to Laurette only to find that her roommate is already staring at her.  The look they exchange is that of silent knowing, one she understood all too well by now. If no one else spoke, Alys would throw herself into the challenge. Laurette, the whole team, couldn’t have that happen.

Gabrielle hesitates but points one finger to her chest, tapping twice. //Me. I’ll do it.// 

Laurette’s piercing blue eyes narrow, and she shakes her head vigorously with a disapproving glare. //Don’t. Don’t you dare.//

Dread bubbles in Gabrielle’s stomach. She’s not even a knight. She didn’t even want to be a knight before, but she joined these adventures to protect her friends, to do good and protect her home. And yet, she's done none of that, so far. A scowl creeps onto her face while she watches Laurette continue to leer into her soul as if it will somehow change her mind. //I’m sorry//. 


Alys springs to her feet and opens her mouth, only to be gagged by another voice and the sound of hands slamming onto the stone. 

“I’ll do it,” Gabrielle blurts out, standing. “I’ll accept the challenge.” 

“//What?//“ All the others gasp. All except for Laurette, whose eyes are still digging into Gabrielle with a frustrated exhaustion. 

“But Gabrielle, you don’t even have a weapon! Let me,” Alys insists, all pretenses of formality gone at the drop of a dime.

Gabrielle gestures to the axe. “There’s a weapon right here! Among all of us, I am but the weakest, while you stand as our mightiest. Should fate claim you, the war would be lost.”

“That’s not true,” Peggy cries, yanking Gabrielle’s sleeve to get her to sit back down.

“She’s right,” Laurette barks, her voice cracking. “We can’t lose Alys. Let her speak, Peggy.” 

Gabrielle puts one hand on Peggy’s head, keeping her in place. “I’m happy to do this if it means preserving both the life and the honor of my friend. Is this not the very essence of knighthood?? Merlin said there would be a chance to prove myself worthy, and this //is// that chance.” With that, she boldly strides up to the ##red|Green Knight##, eyes locking with hers. “So I accept.” 

This whole time, the ##red|Green Knight## has been watching in silent amusement that only grows with Gabrielle’s approach. “Very well, then!” She bows her head and bends her knee once more, her head facing the ground. “Take up the axe and deal thy blow.” 

The air grows heavy, the tension feels as though it could be sliced through with the very axe in question. All eyes follow Gabrielle as she marches toward the weapon. The axe stands before her, its handle carved from dark, polished wood, entwined with a delicate vine of silver that glimmers faintly in the candlelight. Somehow, it looks even larger up close. How could any man, let alone a fourteen-year-old girl, hope to wield it? Hesitantly, she grabs the handle with both hands and hoists it upward, putting all her upper body strength into the motion. 

White overtakes Gabrielle’s vision, and when it comes back she’s no longer in the castle. Green stretches endlessly across the horizon, followed by a vast sea of trees with a lone road at its heart. She still has the axe in her palms, now uprooted from the dirt and light as a feather. She lifts the handle onto her shoulder before trying to follow the path. 

But she takes only a step or two before something hard and hollow strikes her skull from above, plummeting from the endless void overhead. Agony explodes in her skull, and she shrieks sharply. Aimlessly lifting the axe over her head, she swings downwards into the ground and stumbles. The blade penetrates the earth, and Gabrielle barely keeps herself upright, clinging to the handle for support. The pain fades and fizzles out as quickly as it came. She reaches up to check her head for lumps and feels something cold and hard protruding from the center of her forehead. Her head whips back to look upwards just in time to glimpse the headless skeleton crashing down onto her. 

She lets out a scream. 

Then everything flickers black.

“Gabrielle!” //What?//

She can feel the granite bricks of their hideout beneath her. 

“Gaaaaaaaaabby.” //Wait, I know that voice. it’s—//

Peggy. “Lily, wake up! You did it! You won! You’re a knight now!” 

The redhead is the first thing Gabrielle sees when she opens her eyes, shaking her by the shoulders. Behind Peggy, Kate cranes her neck to see them. 

The pain is gone again, nothing but a ghost of exhaustion lingering deep in her bones. Her outfit had changed, ordinary clothes turned to shining armor, green bows and clips tying her braids together, keeping the hair from her face. Plated metal protects her neck and gloves come up around her forearms. The outfit puffed out into a dress at the bottom. There’s a weary comfort in the way its shape and color remind her of lilies of the valley. Her hands wander around her face and head. When she touches the spike in her head again, she flinches. //Focus on Peggy instead.// 

“I… I won?” 

“Yeah! You did a smashing job of it, too! I never knew you to be so fierce!” Peggy cheers. Gabrielle stares in confusion, and then the metallic stench of blood hits her nose, beckoning her gaze to the ground, now covered in crimson. 

Beneath her lay the axe, and in front of her, sprawled out on the floor where she must’ve swung during her delusion, was a body without a head. 

//Oh. I won.// 
  
The sight makes her ill. Her eyes squeeze shut and her head bows down. How could she have known? She had no intention of striking to kill. Yet here she is, the weight of consequence crushing her chest.

"Holy Moses, you didn't have to bloody kill her!" Kate's voice shrills. 

 A hand rings around her shoulder, and she knows it’s Laurette by her grasp alone. “It takes some getting used to,” she murmurs solemnly. 

“You think?” Gabrielle replies somewhere between choking and a scoff, turning her gaze to Laurette, standing beside her. An unnamable sadness lies in those sapphire blue eyes. 

“Well,” she inhales, standing up. ”At least it’s over, now.” 

Until it isn’t. 

“Um... everyone?” Alys questions from afar.

The whole group looks towards their leader only to see her standing by the corpse whose blood begins to flow backwards to the stump of her neck, as if time were being wound back. Once the blood drains from the floor and the body absorbs it, the ##red|Green Knight## rises to her feet. The Round Table watches in horror, jaws dropped, as the girl calmly lifts her head off the ground and sticks it back between her shoulders. 

“Hooh! T’was a good swing! That weapon is befitting of ye, knight of Camelot. You have proven skillful using it.” The knight turns to her horse, beginning to mount it. “You have seven days’ time, no more, no less. I look forward to our reunion.” 

Stunned into silence, the girls are pale as ghosts. Gabrielle knows she has to speak, but can't manage to fight down the lump in her throat.

“Wait!” The ##red|Green Knight## halts, casting her gaze back to the smaller girl. “Where do I find you? In a week?” 

“Ah!” With one hand, the girl digs into her pocket and with the other she guides ##red|her steed## close. Then, she produces a small piece of paper tied up with string. “You shall find me in ##blue|the Green Chapel## in the heart of ##green|the nameless woods##. The directions inside the paper shall help ye. And, if I were in thy place?” ##red|The horse’s## hooves click against the floor, spurred into making for the way they came. “I would be extra careful ‘bout names. Where I come from, a name is more powerful than any army.” 

Gabrielle’s hands shake. She unfurls the string from ‘round the paper to lay its contents bare. Words slowly appear upon the blank sheet.
@@ @@ 
[[=]]
[[div class="storybook-hca"]]
Thou shalt not give the same name or description to any person, place, or thing within the ##green|sea of trees## more than once. 
Thou shalt not make utterances which thee knows to be a lie.
Thou shalt use thine manners and accept all gifts from ##red|those who dwell between the trees## and receive them with two hands.
[[/div]]
[[/=]]
@@ @@ 
“Madame, my sincerest apologies, but these are not direc—” Gabrielle looks up, but the ##red|Green Knight## is already gone.

It’s too late now. Seven days. That’s all she’s got. No one speaks until Gabrielle’s legs finally cave beneath her, and Laurette catches her side to slow her fall. She ends down on her knees sobbing quietly while Laurette and Peggy stay close. The latter of them looks to Kate, then Alys, then back to Kate again.

“Well? Aren’t we going to do something? We can’t just sit back and let it happen, can we?” Alys speaks.

“What would we even do?” Kate asks quietly, looking up to her sister. Alys grimaces, in turn looking to Laurette for answers. For once, Laurette has none. No, she’s focused on comforting Gabrielle. 

“I don’t know! Something! Anything! We have seen so many wonders beyond anything we could’ve dreamed before, haven’t we?” Peggy retorts. A forest fire lights in her eyes. “There has to be //something// we can do.” 

“Well, yes, but we don’t exactly have anything that can help with this!  None of us is just going to suddenly be able to pull the Holy Grail out of our arses!” Kate snaps back much louder, sharper, than she had meant. Alys grabs her younger sister’s shoulder and squeezes, a silent request for her to kindly shut her trap. She was just scared. They all were. 

“//Stop!//“ Gabrielle cries. “Just stop, please? If… if this is going to be my last week alive, I don’t want to spend it hearing you all yell the entire time. It’s my quest, I’ll figure it out, but please, please, please can we just agree not to speak of it for now?”  She pulls her knees close to her chest. “Please? Can… Can we just go back to celebrating Christmas?” 

Laurette looks up to Alys. Alys hesitates, but nods. “Yes,” she assures. She kneels down in front of Gabrielle and wraps her arms around her. “We can go back to celebrating, now.” 

@@ @@ 
[[div class="eventyr-hr"]]
[[/div]]
@@ @@

[[div class="eventyr-title"]]
##green|Day One##
[[/div]]

They all act as though the events of the previous night never happened, brushing them aside like dust. With classes out for winter break, the challenge becomes finding ways to fill the hours just to avoid talking about it. 

They settle on baking, wandering off to Peggy’s house. With her father still out for the next day or so, they’ve got the kitchen to themselves, and while the cupboard is sparse of ingredients, they make do. The cookies they make aren’t half bad, besides the ones Alys somehow manage to burn. 

They eventually get distracted doing a Bridge tournament with a set of cards that ultimately results in a shouting match between Kate and Laurette over who’d won, Kate accusing the other girl of cheating. Gabrielle eventually drifts off to sleep on the rocking chair, by the fireplace after losing to Alys, the plate of cookies resting in her lap. She sleeps straight through their hollering, and Peggy quietly takes the plate from her lap before laying a quilt over her.

@@ @@
@@ @@

[[div class="eventyr-title"]]
##green|Day Two##
[[/div]]

They continue to skirt around the matter at hand. The closest they get to discussing it is Laurette occasionally asking her if she's alright, her voice laced with concern. 

When Gabrielle wakes, she finds herself back in her dorm. Laurette had recounted the humorous tale of how they’d struggled to carry her back to the school the night before while snow began to fall. Laurette had to do the brunt of the lifting, since she was easily the strongest of them, physically. Gabrielle felt a twinge of guilt, but got a laugh at the mental image of it. 

Alys burst through the door and declared, no, not asked, //declared//, that they’d be ice skating today. 

Dozmary Pool froze overnight, its glassy surface gleams like a mirror. It is the perfect makeshift skating rink for the daytime. In the end, they’d slip and slide more than they'd skate. Laughter reverberates across the ice. It is all fun and games, until the ice cracks beneath Alys, sending her plunging into the frigid water below. She swam to the surface, hands just barely poking out of the girl-sized hole she’d made.  Laurette and Gabrielle scramble to help the poor girl, their hands reaching out to grab hers, and with a loud heave, they pulled her back onto solid ground. 

After that, they decide that is enough skating for the day. Laurette and Kate hover over the young princess all evening. 

@@ @@
@@ @@

[[div class="eventyr-title"]]
##green|Day Three##
[[/div]]


They couldn’t avoid the topic forever, and today, it surfaced, if only briefly. They all decide to spend the day inside, after Alys’ close brush with becoming an icicle the day before, seeking solace in the library.

Today, the library is quiet, its usual activity is replaced with silence. Most of the girls find better ways to spend their Christmas break, leaving the towering bookshelves to gather dust. The only faces Gabrielle sees are the sisters drifting through the aisles, and the sculpted face of Archangel Michael. 

Gabrielle hunches over, her eyes fixating on the sheet of paper before her. Frustrated, she let her head drop onto her crossed arms, staring down at the ink like it had insulted her.  

In a way, it had, the instructions on the page might as well have been written in another language. No matter how many times she read these ‘directions’ she couldn’t make sense of any of them, and that put a pit in her stomach. It wasn’t long before Kate and Peggy catch her brooding in the corner she’d found for herself into in a vain attempt to be alone.

“What’re you reading?” Kate peeks over her shoulder.

“These directions make no sense,” Gabrielle sighs, sitting upright and looking over to the two— no, three. Alys’ head peeks out from around the corner of a bookshelf, her cowlick standing tall like a crown. 

“Oh.” Kate begins to twirl her hair. “Hm. Well, where did she say she lived, again?”

“Something about a forest and a green chapel, but these directions don’t mention anything except the woods!” Gabrielle responds. 

“Let me see those for a second?” Alys asks, moving towards the three. Gabrielle scooches back in her chair, allowing them to crowd over the table and stare at the paper. 

“Ok. Step one. Thou shalt not give the same name or description to any person, place, or thing within the ##green|sea of trees## more than once,” Alys echoes. “Hm. I think I’m starting to understand why you're so frustrated, now.” 

“What that does that mean?” Kate questions.

“Maybe… hmm… so does that mean, if we were talking about this table, that I couldn’t call it t-a-bee-ell-ee again? Oh, this is hard… So, I’d have to call it… f—furniture you eat at, instead? And then keep making stuff up?” Peggy squints and rubs at her chin. 

“Wait, wait, wait. That could be it! Maybe that would explain this, too,” Alys chirped, leaning over and grabbing a pencil to underline the words ‘##green|sea of trees##’ on the paper. “The knight called it something different at the castle. Can’t remember what. But that’s a description, sort of like Peggy just did. This one’s also a bit like that.” Alys underlined  ‘##red|those who dwell between the trees##’ as she spoke. 

“Okay, so, she can’t name people, places or things with the same name twice while she’s in the spooky woods, but how does that help her find the knight?” Kate ponders.

“Maybe it’s a survival tip,” Peggy offers. 

“For what? Not getting kidnapped by fairies?” Kate retorts. “Could’ve done with some directions on surviving a behea— MMMPH!” Alys’ hand shot over Kate’s mouth, and she shakes her head to her before lowering it. Kate coughs. “Sorry.” 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” Gabrielle groans, smacking her head down on the table. The other three went silent. 

Peggy clears her throat and puts a hand on Gabrielle’s back. “Hey, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’re plenty smart.”

“Right, and besides,” Alys chimes in, “the other two steps aren’t nearly as complicated!” 

“Right,” Gabrielle mumbles into her arms.  

@@ @@
@@ @@
[[div class="eventyr-title"]]
##green|Day Four##
[[/div]]
@@ @@

The thought of it haunts Gabrielle all day. No matter how fast she runs or how hard her friends try to pull her into their fun and games, it follows her, gnawing at her thoughts. She’s begun to drift, losing herself in the swirling labyrinth of her own thoughts,

It nearly costs her during an intense snowball fight with a rowdy group of boys who call themselves the Saxons. A snowball with a rock inside nearly nailed her in the head. Kate tells Gabrielle she was completely out of it. She doesn’t remember that. What she does remember is Laurette’s sudden lunge, tackling her to the ground just in time to avoid the blow.  

Gabrielle could tell from the look on Laurette’s face that there would be no escaping the inevitable conversation they’d have about this later. Another axe hanging over her head for the day up until she trudged into their shared room for the night. Laurette was already staring at the door from the top bunk. 

“Well, someone’s been waiting,” Gabrielle remarks.

“Worrying,” Laurette corrects. “I’ve been worrying, Gabrielle. You could’ve…” 

Gabrielle meets her gaze. “Gotten hurt? It’s not that big of a deal, considering—”

“Don’t say that,” Laurette snaps. 

Gabrielle's mind races with thoughts of her impending doom, and her attitude falls as she sits down on her bed. Her sheet was made from lush expensive silk. The white moonlight escaped from the window and shined on her face. 

“Look, I didn’t mean to snap at you, just… God, I’m sorry.”

“I know, Laurette,” Gabrielle responds eventually, staring at the ceiling. “You don’t have to be sorry. You tried to warn me, after all.” She squeezes her eyes shut, a shaky breath escaping. 

“I’m such an idiot. I meant what I said about protecting you all, but I didn’t mean to cut off her head. When I grabbed the axe, I started seeing things. Something hit me and I started to freak out. I swung and when I was back…” She trails off, and Laurette can tell that she’s swallowing back a sob. 

“I think I get the picture,” Laurette murmurs. “Happened to me, too. Was there a skeleton involved?” 

Gabrielle nods, her throat tight and hoarse. Above her, the bed creaks softly, the sound of Laurette climbing down from the top bunk.  Gabrielle can feel the tears building, but she presses her lips together, determined to not to sob. Laurette notices, she reaches out to gently brush Gabrielle’s hair back from her face, her touch tender.

“I’m sorry,” Laurette whispers. 

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, it is. I could’ve taken that challenge. I could’ve done a better job of keeping you out of this.”

“It’s not. None of this is,” Gabrielle repeats, sternly. “You didn’t start this, and I chose it. I’ll figure it out.” 

“But I’m not a help, either, am I?” Laurette replies. Gabrielle abruptly sits up, sniffling as her friend’s expression softens, until Laurette gets smacked in the face with a pillow. 

“Hey!” Laurette shouts.

“It’s not your fault,” Gabrielle declares, her voice cracking. Laurette opens her mouth, but the dark-haired girl picks up another pillow. 

“I’ll do it again,” Gabrielle laughs through tears. Laurette scoffs. She puts the pillow back down and lies back. “I mean it.”

 “Okay. It's not my fault.” Laurette grabs her hand and squeezes it.

Gabrielle wants to believe her, but the words ring hollow.

“Now, can we please go to sleep? That snowball fight took the wind out of me,” she asks, anyway.

“Oh, the snowball fight took it out of //you//? I did all the work!”  Laurette huffs overdramatically as she climbs back up to the top bunk. 

 “All the more reason for you to go to bed, then,” Gabrielle giggles.

Laurette rolls her eyes, a chuckle escaping her lips as she shakes her head. Within fifteen minutes, the room is still, both girls now asleep. 


@@ @@
@@ @@

[[div class="eventyr-title"]]
##green|Day Five##
[[/div]]
@@ @@

She has two days left, and yet here she is, building snowmen with Peggy as if death isn't looming over her. The sun began to dip into the horizon, the skies shifting to hues of amber and navy. The biting chill over the hills and ruins growing stronger by the minute, but they try to ignore it. 

A small army of snowmen now stands guard around their hideout, casting long shadows in the fading sunlight. Darkness soon casts over the two, their faces barely visible in the candlelight. 
 The joy had worn off an hour ago, but neither of them stops, the only sound comes from the howling winds. Gabrielle clings to a faint, vain hope that  Peggy might somehow steady her the storm approaching her. The redhead had always been a kindling ember, radiating whimsy and warmth wherever she went. 
Sure, she caused trouble for them sometimes, but that was worth it for her company. Or, at least, it was to Gabrielle. 

Though today, Peggy's spark is dim. She keeps stealing glances at Gabrielle, her usual sunny expression clouded with unease. Her mouth opens, shuts, opens, and then shuts again, words caught in her throat. Gabrielle noticed it half an hour ago, she still isn’t sure if she wants to know what’s on her mind. Not that she needs to ask—she can already guess.

“Lily?” Peggy asks, eventually, poking her with a red mitten. 

“Mhm?” 

Peggy grabs her by the shoulder, turning her to face her. From the moment she sees the redhead’s big, sad eyes, she knows this is going to be bad. 

“You know you don’t //have// to go, right?” Peggy utters, her voice soft as fallen snow. 

“I do. I’m sure nothing good will happen if I don’t,” Gabrielle answers, shying away from the other’s touch. “Not that I even know where I’m supposed to be going. I haven’t made any more sense of the ##green|‘nameless woods’## thing.” 

She’d grown weary of poring over endless books in the library, her mind stirring as she searched for any correlation to any nearby woods. But if the relentless research wasn’t enough to give her a headache, the painful dread in her chest certainly was. The thought that she may end up in Hell once her head is lobbed off her body weighed heavy like the axe that occupied her mind. 

“Well, whatever it is that happens, we can handle it together. It’s better than walking off into the woods by yourself.” Peggy follows Gabrielle like a lost dog as the taller girl paces around the castle. 

“But I don’t want to bring more trouble or take you down with me, because I didn’t do what I was supposed to,” Gabrielle retorts. “I don’t want you to put your lives on the line for me like that.”

“But you did that for us,” Peggy nearly whines. “We’re what got you in this whole mess in the first place. Wouldn’t it make sense for us to get you out of it? It’s not fair that you can’t grow your head back like that knight can, because that leaves you with no option but to die. That’s wrong!” 

“Maybe I did. But then, if something happens to you guys, too, I would've done it all for nothing. It’ll have been pointless,” Gabrielle blurts. “And you’re right, it’s not fair. But most things aren’t, and it’s wrong, but it's also just how the world is!”  

Despair rises in the back of Peggy’s throat as she grabs onto Gabrielle’s sweater.  

“Then— Then we can figure something else out.” The smaller girl spreads her arms out to the sides to try and block Gabrielle from going past her. “Magic exists. Surely that means there has to be something we can use. Like when we went to the library and [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8191  Laurette told us about the Holy Grail]. What If we could find that and fix this whole mess? Maybe then you could grow your head back too, or you couldn’t be killed.”

“Laurette told us that we were not meant to find the Grail, remember?”

“Well, I know what Laurette //said//, but what if things don’t have to happen that way?” Peggy replies.

“We wouldn’t even know where to start. I have to do this, Peggy. You heard Merlin. I’ve got to prove myself. I won’t be any good at defending anyone if I can’t.” Gabrielle shakes her head. The words coming out of her mouth feel wrong. Maybe it’s not Peggy she’s trying to convince. 

Peggy deflates for a split second and then shakes her head. “Well, I’m going to come with you, then.” She kicks the snow and crosses her arms.

“What? No, absolutely not.”

“Yes! You’re not going on your own!”

“Peggy,” Gabrielle’s voice rises. “No. You’ve got to stay here.” 

“Says who? I didn’t hear the knight say that.” 

“Says me,” Gabrielle snaps. “It's my problem! You’re not coming!” She whips around and trudges angrily through the snow. The wind howls around them, scratching across the darkening sky like nails on a chalkboard. Tears of frustration become icicles on her long lashes. “It’s bad enough I’ve got to go to some ##green|nameless woods## using strange directions I don't understand, only to find someone who wants to kill me, let alone needing to worry about keeping you sa—”

And then she's gone. 

Peggy stands frozen, her eyes locked on the empty space where Gabrielle had been just a heartbeat ago. Her mouth hangs open, slack with shock, her wide, eyes wide and unblinking. Her mind reels, a tornado of confusion, and she’s not entirely sure what just happened—only that it was nothing good. She takes one step back, then another, and another, and another until she’s turning. Running. Screaming out into whipping winds, her cries for help, from Merlin, from //anyone// are choked out by its howling. 


@@ @@ 
[[div class="eventyr-hr"]]
[[/div]]
@@ @@

//I’ve been here before.//

Gabrielle knows it from the moment her eyes shoot open, the familiar blue hue sky of the sky is painted over with an unnatural deep violet purple. A dense canopy of green hangs above her, the branches twisting and intersecting like a spider's webs. The trees tower over her, their spindly limbs reaching out as if to grab her. Her vision wanders, and she doesn’t even realize that she’s holding her breath until she’s gasping and shooting upright.

Trees, trees, and more trees as far as the eye can see with no end in sight save for a line cut straight through the middle by a ##brown|dirt trail##. Her hands dig into the soil, and when she glances to the side, she sees the axe lying on the ground. “How did it… how did I…?” Gabrielle wonders quietly to herself, staring at her hands. She slowly reaches down into her pocket for the paper that she’d kept tucked there the last few days. It had changed.
@@ @@ 
[[=]]
[[div class="storybook-hca"]]
These woods have rules,
or so they say,
and if you break them?
A price you’ll pay. 

Stray not from ##brown|the path##
Reveal not thy name, nor thy intention 
Thou shalt not give the same name or description to any person, place, or thing within the __##green|sea of trees##__ more than once. 
Thou shalt not make utterances which **you know to be a lie**   
Thou shalt **use thine manners** and **accept all gifts** from __##red|those who dwell between the trees##__ with **both hands.**
Thou shalt not declare affection towards ##red|the forest’s inhabitants##
[[/div]]
[[/=]]
@@ @@ 
Gabrielle’s face scrunches as she reads the words Alys had underlined. She knows what she’d done wrong, now.[[footnote]] “Thou shalt not give the same name or description to any person, place, or thing within the __##green|sea of trees##__ more than once.”[[/footnote]] 

It’s getting dark, and she knows she should get moving, but she feels rooted to the forest floor. It’s a good three minutes before a shaky inhale rattles her chest. She’s got to get out of here— or at least she’s got to try. Gabrielle stands and hoists the axe up off the ground, her outfit shifting back to armor again. The metal makes clinking noises against stray rocks and roots as she follows ##brown|the road##.
 
Time is dead and cold in this place. At least, it feels that way. The minutes drag to hours and the hours feel like days while marching that ##brown|sole, safe path## alone. In the dead of night, any other woods would be alive with nocturnal creatures coming out to play, and Gabrielle feels anxiety slinking up her back at the thought of what might be out here. 

Lions? Wolves? Bears? Would it be more of those horrid amalgamations of many animals? Or would it be people? Does she want it to be? Not even God knows where she is, stuck in foreign territory. Thoughts cluster and become overwhelming, pulling her eyes towards the labyrinth of trees, murmuring in the dark to herself that there is nothing there. There is nothing moving between the trees. She’s alone. //God, she’s alone.// 

Until she’s not. She hadn’t been keeping her eyes on ##brown| the way one must take## until suddenly she slams face first into the back of a stranger who hisses and staggers forward, Gabrielle stumbling backwards. 

She swore she could hear sizzling, but it’s… just ##red|a girl?## Had she been trapped here, too? She has long, orange hair that floats and flickers like fire, and familiar eyes that shine purple as amethyst.  //Maybe all people that come from here have purple eyes?// A small light in the dark, this girl was the lantern lighting her own way on  ##brown|the way through the forest##. 

In a way, she reminded the young knight of Peggy.

Gabrielle scrambles up and folds her hands together, bowing her head reverently the moment that she’s back to her feet. 

“Oh, hello! I’m so, so dreadfully sorry, ma’am. I hadn’t meant to slam into you like that. I should have been paying better attention to where I was going. Forgive me, please. I am… unfamiliar with the area and out of sorts. Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” The words gushed from her mouth.

##red|The one with hair of flame## grunts and rubs at her back — no injury visible through her white dress — and listens. “It’s quite alright,” she says. “Please be more careful with that,” she loosely gestures to Gabrielle’s horn, and Gabrielle reaches up to touch it. “You could’ve given me a right good stab with that thing if your head were any lower.”

“I’m so sorry,” she says, lowering her hand from her head. “Are you alright, miss?” 

“Aye. I’ll be alright,” ##red|the lass with hair of autumn leaves## replies. “If you don’t mind me asking, what is a wee thing like you doin’ out here?”

Gabrielle hesitates. She’s got to choose her words carefully. Questioning why she's out here, too, would be too rude. “I’ve lost my way, miss.” It wasn’t a lie. Luckily for her, the urge to use etiquette was compulsive, even if ##red|the purple-eyed lass## didn’t look more than a few years older than her. It wouldn’t be hard to follow that rule. 

“Lost?” ##red|The fire maiden## echoes. “Hm. So, you must be from the other side, then?”

“What do you mean by other side…?” Gabrielle stiffens.

“//Oh//, then you’re //definitely// from the other side. Poor thing. You’re very brave to travel through a place like this. Some people here really, really don’t take kindly to your kind after everything that's happened.”  ##red| The lady from whose hair embers spark## notices Gabrielle tensing up. She raises her hands to her chest defensively, waving them side to side. “Oh! No, no. Not me. I’m not one for politics.” 

Somehow, it managed to get worse with each sentence. Other side? Her kind? Politics? Was she even in Britain anymore? Was she in enemy territory? No, no. That couldn’t be, could it? Alys did say that this was about defending Britain from the war…  

 “Thank you for saying as much, ma’am. It is very kind, considering that I smashed into you.” Gabrielle puts on a tired smile for ##red|the violet-eyed one##. At least she has the good grace to have found someone friendly. //Wait a moment. Wasn’t there something in the rules about that?// Unable to simply pull her notes out here and now, all Gabrielle can hope is that it said ‘do not declare attraction’ and not ‘do not declare affection’. Did complimenting someone in return for a compliment given count for that? Surely not, and she was only using her manners as she was told to. She’s got to get going. “Ah, speaking of… I should be on my way and out of your hair."

“Hold on!” ##red|the flaming ginger## calls out. “Where is it that you’re headed to? We’re both going down the same road, aren’t we? I could walk with you until I need to get off the path.”

Gabrielle stops and looks back. //The paper said something about accepting company, right?// She hesitates before dipping her head. ”I’d be glad to have you if that’s what you want, miss.” Also, not entirely a lie, despite her rising dread. 

“‘Course! I don’t mind none, it’s not like I’m goin’ out of my way or anythin’.  By the by, where are you headed to?”

“##blue|The Green Chapel##,” Gabrielle answers without thinking. 

@@ @@
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[[div class="eventyr-title"]]
##green|Day Six##
[[/div]]
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She must’ve broken a rule. [[footnote]] “Reveal not thy name, nor thy intention.” [[/footnote]] Gabrielle leans against a tree, her throbbing head bent up towards the sky. The ‘sun’ is coming up, and she’s been sitting here since last night. No sleep came for her, and not for a lack of trying. Somewhere between her brain trying to bash its way out of her skull and the lingering feeling of being watched, her body refused to relax enough to be dragged off into slumber. 

##red|The one who reminds Gabrielle of Peggy## gave her an apple before they parted ways, after walking alongside her for what felt like an eternity. Most of their journey went by in silence, the headaches kicking up after their little chat. 

She must’ve said something wrong, but she wasn’t sure what. The pain comes and goes in horrible bursts. Gabrielle didn’t press on, towards where she was told she would find the ##blue| Green Chapel## that she ‘couldn’t miss’, for much longer before stranding here to rest. None of that was even to mention the creeping dread rising in the sky with the light; she only has one day left. 

Gabrielle can’t stay here forever. She knows that. A thousand needles pin into her legs as she tries to will them into movement, holding onto the tree she slept against for support. ##brown|The line through the forest## is right beside her. She stares at it like it’s going to bite her the moment she wanders back onto it, but wander she does, nonetheless. 

Every movement feels heavy, her eyes fighting to stay open under the ache of the sun and lack of sleep.  //Did everyone else have to go through something this hard?// Once, Peggy had made a joke about being eaten alive and whole by some horrible beast. How foolish she was, back then, to think it impossible. The thought made her cringe. So far, she has encountered no such beasts. 

##green|The labyrinthine woodland## grows thicker as she wanders deep into its growling stomach. The canopy of bony, wooden hands reaches up to consume the sun, entwined in each other's fingers. Gabrielle is surprised when a glint of light, a sliver of gold that just scrapes past the trees, catches her attention. When she realizes that it’s water the light is bouncing off of, she breaks into a sprint. 

It’d been close to a day since she last drank. Never before has she been so grateful for her luck, and never before has she been so sorry for all those soldiers she knew were dying of thirst in a trench far from home, somewhere. The girl falls to her knees at the little pond beside the path, grass and dirt scraping at her skirt. 

She grimaces at the stains the earth rakes across the pretty clothes, but tries to ignore it as she cups water in both hands and bows her head down to meet them halfway. She sips the water as it falls through her fingers and scoops up more, repeating this until she thinks she’s had enough. 

A rumble shakes Gabrielle’s stomach, and her eyes lower down to the pocket where she’d stowed the apple that ##red|the one whose hair is orange as the sunset## gave her. //Thou shalt use thine manners and accept all gifts.// She inspects it for bruises and finds none, quickly sinking her teeth into it. //If I’m supposed to accept all gifts, it should be safe, right?//

How //wrong// she was.  [[footnote]]”Do not consume any food.” This rule was notably absent from the directions. [[/footnote]]

It isn’t immediate. In fact, Gabrielle manages to get 50 more paces down the ##brown|lone trail of safety##, but somewhere around there, her vision begins to sway. Her brow furrows in concern, but she continues on. The world starts shaking beneath her feet, the sound of snapping branches tearing through the air. She glances up and glimpses the wing of a horrible creature cutting through the branches like an axe; a blood-red dragon soaring over the trees. It spews fire and bellows smoke, setting the canopy alight. Burning branches rain onto the ##brown|unsafe road##, embers dancing with them. The world twists and Gabrielle screams, breaking into a run. 

The only thing keeping her from throwing herself off ##brown|the lone trail## was the fact that  the world around it was much worse. Shadows betwixt the trees turn from formless lumps of shade that stretch like tar into inky pools that reek of metal, dark as the abyss against bleeding oranges and  scarlet reds. Silhouettes of broken bodies begin to emerge from the trunk, their twisted, horrid forms blooming like flowers. The trees themselves are monstrous, they resemble flayed arms, their splintered ends reaching skyward like open palms. The bark of the trees warp and skew until they resemble bloodshot eyes, staring. 

Familiar eyes. Eyes of her family bulging with disappointment, of her friends dilated in agony, and eyes of purple that just //sit, watch and wait//.

The forest floor was a massacre; a no-man’s land now coated in a thick layer of smog. In the back of her mind, Gabrielle wonders if this is what it looked like in the city that day. That day when the ground shook, she spent an eternity by the phone, trying to hear something, //anything//, from her parents. She waited so long that they had to kick her off of it. In the end, she never got an answer.

Gabrielle’s eyes squeeze shut. //It’s not real. It can’t be. They’re home. My parents are at home, my friends are at school, and they’re all fine. I’m fine.// She repeats it and over, but it doesn’t make it feel any more true. Smoke and the scent of burning skin creep into her nose and make her ill.

The black smoke claws at her lungs, forcing coughs to hack from her throat. Gabrielle squeezes her eyes shut, refusing to look at the horrors around her any moment longer, and stumbles forward blindly.  The smoke is burning her eyes and pulling tears from their corners. The pounding in her skull returns. The water she drank earlier now streaks down her face, but it offers no relief. Inside her armor, she feels like she’s boiling alive in Hell.

She trips on something soft, falling face first with a loud clang.

//It’s a root. It’s a root. It’s a root. It’s a root that goes over the ##brown|only path out of this hell##. That’s all.//

Except it’s not over. Of course it’s not. When Gabrielle’s eyes crack open, she’s met with four bodies. Peggy, Alys, Kate, and Laurette sprawling at the base of a tree, their bodies lifeless and broken.  Alys and Peggy are soaking wet, their garments clinging to them. Laurette’s chest is caved in and warped on her left side, while Kate lies like she was resting. She tripped over Peggy, twisted the poor girl’s arm under her foot without even knowing. A sob bubbles up in her throat, her head bowing down into the dirt.

Gabrielle pounds her fist against the dirt. //It’s not real. None of this is real.// Her legs shake. She can barely haul herself to her feet. //It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real. There was something in that apple, or have I broken a rule? Lord.// With each repetition of the phrase, //it’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real//, a heavy step is taken.

First one, two, then three until she’s chugging along the path like a train going full speed along its rails. 

Gabrielle runs until the world goes dark. 


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When Gabrielle can make sense of the world again, when the forest is a //forest// and the trees are back to being //trees//, ##red|a fox with a pair of big, purple eyes##  is nose-to-nose with her.

She shrieks. 

Her body jerks and her hands fly out in front of her, shoving the fox backwards onto the ground. One hand reaches to her side in a panic, feeling around aimlessly until she grabs the handle of her axe. ##red|The canid with purple eyes## scrambles to its feet. 

“Aye!” It yelps and scrambles back at the sight of the weapon. 

“Cahlm down! There’s no need for all’at, now! Jezus.” Its accent is thick. “M’not gonna do ya no harm, lass.”

Gabrielle chokes, no words escape her lips. Her mouth opens and closes, trembling as the ghosts of sounds croak out of her throat, but nothing comes out. Swallowing, she tries to take in her surroundings. The forest is normal again. No bodies, no bones, and certainly no dragons. It’s night, now. She must’ve ran until the light disappeared and collapsed on her feet. She looks back to the thing in front of her.  ##red|Bright red fox that can speak. A green scarf wraps around its neck. Purple eyes.## //What is with the purple in this place?// 

“Think we got off on tha wrong foot. What’s yer name, lil’ miss?” ##red|the entity that looks like a fox## says with a tilt of its head. 

The young knight opens her mouth again only to be choked by her thoughts. 

//What if I say the wrong thing? I’m not supposed to give my name, but what do I say? It’s rude not to answer. It’s rude to shove people, too. I’m supposed to mind my manners. Bloody hell, I’ve already broken another rule, haven’t I? I barely survived the last one with my mind intact. I won’t even live long enough for the knight to take me. I’m doomed. Completely doomed.// 

On the outside, the girl sputters, her mouth making soundless, quaking movements until she gives up. She cries, her head slamming down into hands that cover her face. ##red|The talking animal## frowns. It pads close to her again and gets up on its hind-legs to put its front paws on her knees. 

“Oi… Wha’ ‘appened? Did I say somethin’ t’ upset ya? Y’ don’ ‘ave to tell me yer name if y’don’t wanna. Jus’ thought it’d be a good place ta start…” 

“I can’t,” she hiccups. “H—hello. I’m sorry you have to see me like this. I’ve had a dreadful week. Pardon my… everything. I’m supposed to be trying to find a knight somewhere in here.” Gabrielle lifts her head and shakes it. Her stomach sinks as she wipes the tears off her face and nearly chokes as she adds: ”I’m to lose my head, tomorrow.”

##red|The clever woodland creature## stares her down, its tail swaying side to side before it breaks out into laughter. The girl flinches at the sound of it. ##red|The canid with human vocal cords## doubles over, falling onto its back. It stops to catch its breath eventually, wiping a tear away with its paw. “Oh, golly gosh. M’sorry fer laughin’ at ye’. S’just a little funny, is all. Not the kind’a answer I’m used ta. How’d ya get yerself in a bind like that one, missy?

“I don’t see what’s funny about it,” Gabrielle sighs, eyes locked on the ground. “I… I played a game of shot for shot with them.” 

##red|The being with dog-like features and red fur## flicks one ear. “Shot fer shot? An’ you said yer s’pposed t’ have yer head taken off? But tha’ means,” it trails off for a second and then laughs again. The sound of it is shrill, like a baby crying or a human screaming. “Oh, you arse, that’s a clever one! Bet ya didn’t think you’d have t’ take a hit if y’ just killed the fella then n’there, huh?” 

“I didn’t mean to,” Gabrielle replies quickly. “I was going to scratch them on the arm or the leg or— or something. I didn’t want to chop off their head or not have to take the hit. I just wanted to walk out of it okay and keep my friends safe by doing it, but something happened.”

“So what? Ya jus’ casually popped off someone’s head on accident?”

Gabrielle nods. “You don’t have to believe me, but that’s what happened. The knight just picked up their head and put it back on like a doll.” 

“Hmmm… No, I believe ya. If ye were lyin’, you’d be up a creek right ‘bout now. What I’m wonderin’ is if I can help y’ a little bit.” It pauses, pondering the thought for a second before its ears perk up. ”Aye, put yer paws out for me. M’gonna give ya a little gift.”

Gabrielle does as she’s told and opens her hands, palms up. The ##red|fox critter with amethyst eyes## bows its head down over her hands and jerks its neck and head around, jostling the green scarf ‘round its neck until it falls neatly into the young girl’s hands. She raises an eyebrow, but politely dips her head. “Thank you.” //How in the hell will this help?// 

As if reading her mind, the ##red|entity bearing resemblance to the red-furred animal commonly hunted in the British countryside## explains: 

”That scarf was a gift from a friend o’ mine. Its helped me survive a whole ‘ell of a lot, before, so it should help you. As long as ya wear it, ye cannae die er be ‘armed by nothin'.” 

 “Really?” Gabrielle’s eyes widen.

“Aye. We’re not s’pposed ta lie here, remember?” It winks at her. “It’s nae cheatin’ if yer opponent didn’ say ya couldn’t.”

There are no words to describe the relief Gabrielle feels . Her eyes start watering again.

“Aye! What’re ya cryin’ fer now? I just fixed tha problem!” ##red|The enemy of the hound## huffs.  It whines indignantly at her, pawing at her dress.

“No, no. Thank you. They’re good tears.” Gabrielle sniffles, wiping her eyes off as she chuckles.  She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry if this is odd, but… could I hug you?”

“Wha? What would ye go doin’ that fer?” 

“To thank you.”

“Thank me? But ya already said thank you!” Despite the critter’s words, Gabrielle continues to watch it with big, wet eyes, her arms open. “Alright, alright. Fine. Y’ can if ye want to.”  

The instant that the words leave its mouth, Gabrielle’s arms are around the smaller animal. 

##red|The humble beast of prey ## smiles and pats the girl’s back with its paw. “Oh, you humans. You’re so sentimental,” it hums wistfully, rolling its eyes.

Gabrielle stays like that for as long as she’s allowed. The other being sticks around until she’s fallen fast asleep, then disappears into the underbrush before light returns to the world. 


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[[div class="eventyr-title"]]
##green|Day Seven##
[[/div]]
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Gabrielle isn’t sure what she should credit for her sleep. Was it her exhaustion or was it the knowledge that she might survive this, after all?  Whatever the case, it didn’t matter. 

Today is the day she’s supposed to die, but somehow she’s more confident than she’d been the entire week. With the green scarf wrapped around her neck, she’s more likely to survive this day than not. It’s no surprise that ##red|the generous animal who gave her the gift## is nowhere to be seen when she wakes. Gabrielle can only hope that it understood just how much the gift had meant to her. It was more than a scarf that she was given, and something tells her that they both knew it. 

##green|The woods that live in the chimney## weren't so deep, now. How far has she run? And better yet, how far does this road go? Gabrielle asks herself the same questions, over and over, as she wanders along. She pulls from her thoughts when she nearly trips over the dirt. Looking down, she finds hoof prints. 

Her eyes follow them down ##brown|the winding way## until they reach the horizon. There, in the fog of the morning dew with its horn glistening in the light, was ##red|that strange horse##. The one that belonged to ##red|the Green Knight##. The mare was making eye contact with her from her spot, the first being she'd met in this place without purple eyes. Gabrielle hesitates, her steps faltering as she eyes the ##red|strange equine##. She lets Gabrielle get fairly close before trotting further down the path. 

Gabrielle follows ##red| the green unicorn## for what feels like forever but is actually only about five minutes. The fact that she was chasing after the ##red|aforementioned horse## in full, clanking armor, wielding an axe nearly as tall as herself, certainly didn’t make things easier.  She pushes herself to exhaustion, taking time to catch her breath. Each time, the horse would pause, glancing back at her. Eventually, her knees gave way, with an exaggerated huff.

“Are we there yet?” she asks, voice muffled by the soil. Obviously, she gets no answer. 

Peeling her face from the earth, Gabrielle’s expression weighs down as she realizes what a mess she’d made of herself for nothing, there. She stands up and brushes the dirt off her face, fixes her hair, and tries to get as much dust off of her skirt as is possible. It’s better to look at least a little decent than not.

 Scanning her surroundings, she finds no sign of the ##red|grass colored, one-horned steed##. Instead, she finds ##blue|a crumbling chapel alongside the road##. The roof is full of holes made by trees growing their way through it, and the small set of stairs leading to ancient, wooden doors is missing bricks here, there, and everywhere. Moss has overtaken the stained glass, covering the watchful eyes of saints beneath it. 

Gabrielle takes a few cautious steps towards ##blue|the ancient structure##. “This must be it ,” she murmurs to herself, tracing the carvings on the door — ##blue|the Green Chapel.##

Gabrielle holds her breath as she knocks on the wood, but receives no answer. After a few minutes of waiting, she gently nudges the door open. 

The inside of the church is exactly as debilitated and wild as its overgrown exterior suggests. Nature reclaims every corner, with wildflowers and vibrant green herbs pushing their way through the cracks in the flooring. Ornate wooden pews have been overrun by moss and mushrooms, an army of woodcutter ants marching along their backs. Light that hits the stained glass bleeds onto the floor in brilliant yellows and pinks that dance  and refract across the space. It smells glorious, not at all like the incense they burn at Sunday mass. Basking in the beauty of it, Gabrielle forgets what she'd come here for. 

The door she came through slams shut behind her. Gabrielle feels her blood run cold, white-knuckling the axe as she turns to face whatever or whoever is behind her.

Lo and behold, it is the ##red|Green Knight##.  

Her heart begins to pound loudly.

“Here hath thee found thy way! Welcome art thou to my dwelling place. Thou hath timed thine travel well and kept thy promise as any true knight should,” says the knight, giving Gabrielle a hearty pat on the shoulder, like they're friends. Somehow, the knight is taller than she remembers her being. 

The girl curtsies in response. It would be polite to say that she’s happy to be here, but she’s not supposed to tell lies. 

“Thank thee for the directions. ‘‘Twas very gracious of you. I would not have made it without them,” Gabrielle says. The words feel like dry cotton in her mouth. “Yes, I have come to pay the price and take your blow with no more debate than with what you have taken mine.” Her stomach churns with the knowledge that she wasn’t //actually// being brave.

##red|The Green Knight## nods and reaches out one open hand. “Doff thine armor and thy payment thou shall take.”

Gabrielle hesitates before realizing that it was the axe that ##red|the taller being## was holding out a hand to take. So long as she was the one holding it, her armor would remain. 

So, Gabrielle gives the axe away, and her armor goes with it, dissipating into sparkling dust. It leaves only her everyday garments and the scarf behind. She knelt down and lowered her head with her hands folded together in prayer on her lap. 

Beside her, the ##red|Green Knight##  eyes the axe and passes it between her hands before settling the blade over her neck. Gabrielle holds her breath, her heart pounding as she watches the shadow of the axe rise ominously on the floor. As it comes down for her, her entire body flinches, eyes squeezing shut. 

This was it.

But no pain comes. Cautiously, she opens one eye, her body still tense. The axe had not hit her at all. It was just a practice motion, but the knight looks down at her while she trembles.  Gabrielle swallows hard, her cheeks burning in shame. The ##red|The Green Knight## clearly cross with this display. 

“Art thou not that same knight who had challenged me? Of whom men speak so nobly? Such cowardice in such a knight I never thought I’d know. I never shook nor flinched when you aimed to whip off my head in one fell swoop there in King Arthur’s hall,” ##red|The Green Knight## scolds. 

“Forgive me. I will not flinch again.” Those words are all Gabrielle manages to murmur quietly. Her body feels tight around her bones in its effort to keep still. 

“Good.” And with that, the knight begins to aim the axe again. Gabrielle watches it rise and screws her eyes shut when it stops. She prays soundless whispers to God and waits for the end, for the dark of the back of her eyelids to become all she knows. 

An end does not come, but pain does. Cold metal meets her neck. 

When Gabrielle’s eyes flutter open, the first thing she sees is the dark red pool of her own blood spreading across the stone floor. Her hand flies to the side of her neck, and she can feel the warmth of the wound still bleeding there. Her brows knit together, mouth agape as her face contorts in confusion. She was alive, but harmed, which means that the fox was lying, but it also means… The young knight lifts her head to see the ##red|Green Knight## standing there with the axe. 

Upon seeing the smaller girl's face, the ##red|axe-wielding giant## breaks out into laughter. Gabrielle can only stare in confusion, her mouth refusing to make words come out again. She shakes her head. 

What? Why had she been spared? Not that she was ungrateful, but it felt //wrong//. She’d done the opposite of proving herself, hadn’t she? The increasing confusion does nothing but fuel the other being's laughter. The longer it went on, the more familiar it got. It was shrill like a baby crying. Her eyes widen. 

“Oh! Oh, you should see yer face! It’s priceless! Ne’er gets old, hah. Alright, alright,” says the ##red|Green Knight?## “I see I’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do, mm?” 

Gabrielle watches with some horror as the knight grips and pulls the sides of her face until it comes off, the skin stretching into wood. In a burst of sparkles, the ##red|knight larger than life## disappears. In her place is ##red|a much, much smaller little girl who’s dressed like a court jester##. The bright blues and pinks of her costume clash against the chapel. 

Her feet hover above the stone as she seems to float in midair, a wooden mask that bears the face of the knight she’d just posed as in one hand. She takes off her hat with the other. It jingles and leaves a head of messy, orange hair in its absence. 

“My name is ##red|Morgan. Morgan le Fae##. Nice to re-re-re..?” She pauses to think a moment. “Yeah that’s the right amount, nice to meet you.”

 Gabrielle is still in shock. 

“Oh, an’ don’t worry about yourself. I know yer name. Really, I could’ve stolen your identity five times over if I’d wanted. Did you know you’re not very good at following rules? I was very generous about it. Mostly because I don’t really want your identity. No offense.”

Still at a bit of a loss for words, Gabrielle coughs. “##red|Morgan?## Wait, don't we know you? I wasn’t there, but Alys told me about the time they fought you.”

“The same,” ##red|Morgan## replies, lying on her stomach in midair. She kicks her feet back and forth. “Really, I was hoping that it would be Alys that got stuck in this mess. Wanted a bit of holiday revenge for that last time, but then again, you being the only one who didn’t know me from before, made this way better.” 

 “So… so that was you the whole time?”

“Yep.”

“All of it?”

“Indeed.”

“Like—  ##red|the girl I met?## And ##red|the fox?## Were those all you? I //knew// there was something freaky about them all having the same eyes!” Gabrielle crosses her arms.

“Correct.” 

Gabrielle is, for what feels like the fiftieth time this week, at a loss for words. There are so, so many questions. Too many questions. She’s got to pick which ones come out wisely, but mincing words feels altogether too much to ask of her, now. “//Why?//” 

“Why what?” ##red|Morgan## asks.

That wasn’t as specific as it should have been. 

“Why’d you let me live? I mean— you knew about the scarf. I was cheating. I didn’t prove myself worthy, I just… I was sort of a coward. And you gave me that apple that made me see things, and...”

“Woah, woah, woah. One thing at a time,” ##red|The small faerie## interrupts, holding both hands up.

“Firstly, I told ya myself that it’s not cheatin’ if I didn’t say anything that would mean you couldn’t use the scarf. It was supposed to be a bit of a test, and you did fail, buuuuut…”

“But?” Gabrielle blurts. 

“But that’s okay!” ##red|Morgan the Fae## finishes with a shrug. “I like ya. You’ve got a good enough heart for a knight. You just didn’t want to die is all. So, I let ya live. Simple as that.”

“Okay? No! That’s not okay! If I can’t even handle this, how am I supposed to help my friends?” Gabrielle retorts. 

“Can’t help your friends from the grave, though, can you?”

“No, but—”

“No buts about it! You risked your life for them. That’s brave. You managed to make it here, that's brave, too. Bloody hell, you put your head beneath someone using your own axe to kill you. I don’t think you understand how most people would never do any of those things! So, don’t go whining now. I could still change my mind about that whole ‘stealing your identity’ thing, y’know?” ##red|The fae jester## crosses her arms and mimics Gabrielle’s pout. 

“Get it? Got it? Good.” 

Gabrielle’s mouth slams shut. Her anger falters, and she looks to the ground  ##red|The trickster## was right. This wouldn’t be the first time she’s pushed herself to her limit to try to achieve something, only to think it’s not enough. Story of her life, really. She messes with the fabric of the scarf in her guilt. 

“So... So what now?” 

“Now,” ##red|Morgan the fae## replies, ”I'll get you home to your merry band of misfits.” She begins to float towards the door, past the axe stuck upright in the stone. Gabrielle follows her without picking it up. “Ahem. Forgetting something?”

Gabrielle stops.

”Huh?”

“This. I’ve got a feeling you’ll be needing it,” the other replies as she taps on the wooden handle. 

“Oh, right.” The young knight walks over and lifts the axe from its place. 

Their twin shadows stretch long on the weeds and stone when the door opens. Then, it shuts, leaving only the dark. And just like that, they're gone. 

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[[image https://i.imgur.com/VtWJE58.png]]
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[[collapsible show="Read More?" hide="Close"]]
[[=image https://i.imgur.com/Kb5mDQP.png]]
☆ [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8307 SCP-8307 “The Arthurian Cycle”] by [[*user sailorenoch]]
★ [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/let-there-be-green "Let there be Green"] by [[*user Rosyfox2002]]
☆ [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8191 SCP-8191 “Fisher Queen”] by [[*user rottingraisins]]
☆ [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/horned-is-the-enchanter Horned is the Enchanter] by [[*user sailorenoch]]
[[/collapsible]]

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[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box
|author= Rosyfox2002, sailorenoch, rottingraisins, ]]

> **Filename:** logo.png
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> **Font:** [[[https://github.com/amazusa/Nagino |Nagino]]]
> **License:** OFL-1.1 license

> **Filename:** jfqhjI2.png
> **Author:** [[*user Rosyfox2002]]
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> **Source Link:**[[[https://i.imgur.com/jfqhjI2.png |LINK]]]
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> **License:** OFL-1.1 license

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> **Author:** [[*user Rosyfox2002]]
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> **Source Link:**[[[https://i.imgur.com/oQC2oyK.png |LINK]]]
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> **License:** OFL-1.1 license

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> **Author:** [[*user Rosyfox2002]]
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> **License:** OFL-1.1 license

> **Filename:** VtWJE58.png
> **Author:** [[*user Rosyfox2002]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
> **Source Link:**[[[https://i.imgur.com/VtWJE58.png |LINK]]]
> **Font:** [[[https://fonts.google.com/specimen/Jua/license?categoryFilters=Sans+Serif:%2FSans%2FRounded |Jua]]]
> **License:** OFL-1.1 license

> **Filename:** V7guTZn.png
> **Author:** [[*user Rosyfox2002]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
> **Source Link:**[[[https://i.imgur.com/V7guTZn.png |LINK]]]
> **Font:** [[[https://fonts.google.com/specimen/Jua/license?categoryFilters=Sans+Serif:%2FSans%2FRounded |Jua]]]
> **License:** OFL-1.1 license

> **Filename:** rPCm2BC.png
> **Author:** [[*user Rosyfox2002]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
> **Source Link:**[[[https://i.imgur.com/rPCm2BC.png |LINK]]]
> **Font:** [[[https://fonts.google.com/specimen/Jua/license?categoryFilters=Sans+Serif:%2FSans%2FRounded |Jua]]]
> **License:** OFL-1.1 license

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> **Author:** [[*user Rosyfox2002]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
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> **Font:** [[[https://fonts.google.com/specimen/Jua/license?categoryFilters=Sans+Serif:%2FSans%2FRounded |Jua]]]
> **License:** OFL-1.1 license

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> **Author:** [[*user Rosyfox2002]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
> **Source Link:**[[[https://i.imgur.com/rQvAir1.png |LINK]]]
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> **License:** OFL-1.1 license

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[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]

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