"You are strong, stronger than most," Queen Guinevere whispered as she held a baby Sako in her arms. "This kingdom isn't perfect. It's young and far from complete, but it's still a wonderful place we've built, and I hope that you can grow to love it as we do."
Though Sako was but an infant at the time, she never forgot her mother's words to her, nor her kind eyes. It was as if the queen's noble face, bathed in golden sunlight from the royal bedroom's window, was forever etched into the back of her eyelids; a memory she relived whenever she closed them.
"My dearest Sako, will you use your gift to protect this place when we're gone?" Guinevere asked. The queen, Arthur's beloved wife, then chuckled a bit as she looked out of Tintagel Castle at the grand city of Wunderdum. "Oh, what am I asking of a child? You'll probably forget this silly request before the day is up. Such is the nature of infants."
Though a passing statement of a sentimental mother, Sako would always remember.
When she was born, the innate magic of Sako was higher than even Lancelot's, a man known for having the largest pool of magic within the Westlands. It was thought that, in time, the child's power might even surpass Arthur's magic at the height of his strength– an absurd state of power he was able to momentarily attain during the climax of his battle with Tahlia.
"She's going to be an even more skilled warrior than you, old friend," Arthur laughed as they all gathered around the newly born girl. The scowling guildmaster of Avalon simply rolled his eyes, spat, and walked out of the castle's infirmary room, though as he closed the door, he couldn't help but glance back and grin.
Arthur and Guinevere gazed at their newborn baby with stars in their eyes. They knew not why, but they had so much pride for the child that had just entered the world, and would do anything to protect her.
"What shall we name her?" Guinevere asked.
"Hm? I thought that you would have thought of one already," Arthur mused. "I was never good at that sort of thing."
"You'd put the pressure of naming this land's first princess on me?" Guinevere asked. "How frivolous of you!"
"Now, now. Right now, she isn't any more special than any other child of this land," Arthur said. "But if you must insist… then how about Melora?"
"Lukewarm," Guinevere sighed, stroking the baby's soft cheek gently. "How about something strong like Rhianna?"
"What kind of name is that?" Arthur asked. "I don't think either of us is going to be very good at this. Maybe Lancelot's got some ideas."
They both laughed at the ridiculous thought.
"Hm, then how about…"
They named her Sako after a fabled weapon by the same name. The great weapon, Sako, was said to lie dormant in the great forest during times of tranquility and only would show itself in times of strife as the ultimate war-ender. It was a mysterious object the two of them had sought in their youth, but never actually found. That adventure brought them together and would be the inciting embers to their love.
The love that would eventually produce their daughter, and bring them back together even after years apart.
…
Upon reaching her tenth year of life, Sako still hadn't said her first words. It was because of this muteness that the country and its political cabinet had become unsure about her as the successor to Arthur.
The inheritance of the throne by blood was a tradition wrought upon by the old kingdoms of the West and was upheld for good reason. Only a child descended from royal or, at the very least, noble blood, could be fit to lead effectively, as their genes would confer the inherent strength, willpower, and charisma to do so. It was widely acknowledged that children born into a noble bloodline had the greatest potential to guide an entire nation and were the best means of maintaining intergenerational trust. Anything less, and a nation would simple fall apart.
Even the one chosen by fate, Arthur Pendragon, was no exception to this systematic rule, for it was said that he had descended from a legendary lineage of kings originating from before he created the concurrent Westland nation. Had he not, his story and ascension to the throne would have been a much different one. A much bloodier one, and one much less well-recieved by the citizens of a hundred fallen kingdoms.
Of course, while young Sako had a great affinity for magic and skills to match, she seemed to lack any true leadership qualities beyond battle prowess. She lacked Arthur's charisma that drew people to him as well as his intense passion. She didn't show compassion or sympathy like her mother either, and only ever acted on her own accord. Sleeping until noon. Training her strength, but not her etiquette. Ignoring duties that troubled her. Yawning during meetings. Sako cared not for the politics of her land, though she did seem to love looking at the city from above, often climbing out her window and sitting on the highest castle tower.
At the end of the day, the only thing Sako had was absurd magical power. Such was a quality treasured during warring eras, but deemed useless when there was nothing to fight. She was a warrior born in a time of peace. Had she been born several decades earlier when the Westlands were a mess of warring states, and the witch Tahlia threatened the world, she would have been seen in a much better light. But that was not the case. Ultimately, the public respected her and praised her abilities, but never saw her fit to be a true ruler.
…
Years later, it was announced to the kingdom that Princess Sako would not inherit the throne. This royal address took place during a seven-day-long summer festival known as the "Week of Good Fortune."
It was a joyous holiday in which people celebrated the summer harvest in the streets of Wunderdum, filling the city with joyous music, stands, and food. Arthur figured a time when people were merry with ale and stuffed to the brim with summer hogs was ideal for his splendid announcement.
He and his family, Guinevere and Sako, all sat atop a podium at the center of the city's grandest square, overlooking it all. When the sun was at its highest and the festival had reached its peak, Arthur began his speech to thousands of his subjects. Despite the thousands that gathered, they all silently listened when attention was beckoned by their great king.
"Princess Sako is a capable young woman, but her inability to speak has caused her much strife in her upbringing, and she has ultimately expressed that she does not wish to lead this country when I am gone," Arthur said. Crowds began to murmur, but no one dared speak louder than a whisper. "She wishes to protect this nation in her own way, and thus, the successor to the Westlands shall be considered to be the child within my wife's womb as we speak."
He turned to Guinevere, who smiled as she rubbed her growing stomach. There had been some speculation among the castle's residents and guards about the sudden gain of weight in her abominable region, but only a select few of Arthur's Round Table knew for sure.
"When he arrives, please accept our first son as kindly as you did with Sako," Arthur said. "For I believe, it is this child that will lead us into a golden era, even brighter than the last."
It was to that announcement that the public cheered. Though there were some who opposed Arthur's rule, the majority at this period of time were overjoyed that the noble Pendragon lineage would continue and advance the kingdom in all its prosperous glory, just as Arthur had done. The next child, a boy, would surely be the true successor to the Chosen One and was promised to be raised to love his kingdom just as much as his parents did.
That child would never come to be, for Guinevere would be murdered the next day, right before Sako's eyes. Before the entire nation's eyes.
It was an assassination by an unexpected individual. Someone the kingdom never would have suspected, and it was for that reason that they succeeded. The child, a little bit younger than Sako, innocently pranced up to the podium during that same summer festival. The patrolling guards only smiled at her, thinking the unassuming little girl just wanted a better look at royalty. No one would have thought the child's innocent prance would turn into a sprint, and that she would end up stabbing the queen right in the neck. Swarmed by soldiers, the child was quickly overtaken and apprehended before she could do anything else. They were quick to respond, but the damage was already irreversible. No medic or magic user in all the world could heal the wound that ripped open her neck. Not with the few meager seconds she had left to live.
Sako knelt by Guinevere's side and held her hand tight. Rain fell from the queen's eyes on that sunny day, but not Sako's, for the princess had never once cried in her entire life. And though her mother was a mess, Sako continued to stare, and Guinevere stared right back. They both knew it was the last time they would ever see each other. The last time they would ever touch.
The heat seemed to evaporate from the queen's dying body, her pupils losing color every moment that never seemed to pass. Guinevere spent the final seconds of her life etching Sako's shape into her fading eyes, glad that the last thing she saw was the thing she was most proud of.
And though the queen couldn't speak because the blood curdling in her throat blocked her words, Sako knew precisely what she would have said if she could.
"Protect this kingdom I love, my pride and joy."
…
The nameless child who killed Queen Quinevere was supposed to stand trial and then, when found guilty, would be executed for treason. The trial itself was a formality, a pretense to kill a child despite the controversy of it all. Everyone knew she had done it. Whether she had been corrupted or manipulated by others was a concern, but ultimately deemed irrelevant, for she had still committed the crime with her own bloodstained hands. The queen of the Westlands was dead, and she alone was to blame.
Arthur normally would never condone murdering a child who had been manipulated, yet this time, he didn't object, either. It was the loss of his love that finally brought about a moment of weakness, and because of that, there would be no salvation for said child. To maintain the balance of politics in the kingdom, someone needed to be blamed and die so that peace could remain.
The trial was supposed to be short. It was even predetermined that the kid would be executed the next day in private, for they didn't wish her to suffer. It would have been a quick death too, had something particular not happened before the sentence was formally handed down.
Sako appeared in the middle of the trial and halted it with a motion of her hand. With Arthur behind her, the judge and all the witnesses had no choice but to let the princess proceed as she wished. Though not with words, it was her command– the first one she had ever given as the princess of the nation.
In that courtroom filled to the brim with persecutors, mourning friends, and loyal citizens, Sako walked up to her mother's killer and stared her down with cold eyes. The room grew silent as they all watched intently. Then, Sako grabbed the child by the hand and thrust her roughly to the ground. She perched herself atop the girl's chest and began striking her in the face with her fists. Over and over and over again, Sako struck her. Some watched as the carpet became stained with splatters of blood and the child's face blackened, while others turned away. Sako must have struck her dozens of times before her torn knuckles were satisfied, and the girl was barely conscious. The distraught princess then turned to Arthur, who nodded as he walked up to the center of the room.
"By order of Princess Sako Pendragon, this girl is to be found guilty," Arthur announced. "The condemned is hereby exiled from these walls and sentenced to serve Sako as her servant until death. Should the princess pass away first, the guilty person is required to take their own life in atonement for their gravest sin."
The child, through flickering vision, looked up at Sako, and Sako looked back with a gaze that burned itself on her quivering soul. Within the princess's eyes were not the intentions of forgiveness, but those of pure and utter disgust. In that instant, the child who murdered the queen became the object of the Sako's hate.
For the first time in her life, the desolate child felt fear inside her quivering soul. She had been so prepared to die every moment of her life, yet never to live.
"Make no mistake," Arthur continued, walking up to the child. "This is not a pardon from the princess; it's her vengeance. Serve the daughter of the woman you murdered until the day you die, and live in shame as repentance. Even if the gods and the world forgive you, I can assure you, she will not. At least, not any time soon."
The next day, Sako disappeared from the safety of Wunderdum with the girl she had spared, and it was announced that she was on a mission to ensure the stability of the borders. With the queen's death and Sako's departure, the future of the Westlands quickly became shaky.
No one knew where the Princess ran off to, or what she truly did, but all anyone could do was have faith in the Westland's one and only princess. And in Arthur, who had guided them from darkness so long ago as the greatest king of all.
Incidentally, the mythological creatures and demonic entities terrorizing the areas along the Northland border began to fall not much later, one by one. Wild cave trolls. Leftover draugr from the witch Tahlia's reign. Rabid dire wolves. The Jörmungandr. Each slain corpse had a hole in its head, or whatever other weak spot they held, and while she never took credit, many believed it was Sako. It's for this reason that the small towns around the border began to call her Tapio, though in the mainland, she took on a different title: the Sniper Princess. The weapon she wielded was crafted and gifted to her by a great scientist by the named of Nikola Rift, father of Cygnus Rift.
Sako often returned to the capital city for major events and visits, but the girl she had taken with her many years prior was never seen again. Some figured that Sako had let her hatred get the best of her and postulated she had already killed the girl, while others say she couldn't stand her and let her go, banishing her from any Westland city or town. The only one who might've known what happened to the child was Sako's appointed knight, Red, who became one of the princess's devoted followers shortly after her departure, moved by her strength and abilities.
Regardless of what actually happened to the girl Sako had hated and saved to let suffer, the princess made her fierce loyalty known to the world as she exemplified her strength in the shadows. In only a few years, she became one of the main reasons the Northland king, Beowulf, never attacked. With strength rivaling the King's Round Table, resolve to protect beyond Arthur's Guard, and the ability to indifferently carry out missions more effectively than the Agents of Darkness, she was the kingdom's number one soldier. One with a hidden strength only she knew.
Dressed in white to hide in the snowy regions of the North, her enemies solemnly saw the white death before they found themselves on their backs, fading in a puddle of blood and endless dark.
One sin was all it ever took for the Sniper Princess.