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Deep within the darkness of the thaumaturgical construct known as the Greater Holy Grail, a being born of the blackest shadows and foulest sins of mankind boiled over in rage.
He should have predicted this. In hindsight, it was quite obvious what could have happened when those two Servants met each other. In hindsight, he should have chosen a different Servant to summon for either the Einzbern homunculus, his chosen vessel, or that man from the Mage's Association. Both, even. Bringing those two specific Servants together, Caster and Berserker, was an unimaginably stupid error of judgment on his part.
Heracles, the most powerful and famous Hero of all ancient Greece, son of the King of the Gods, Zeus.
Medea, the betrayed princess of Colchis who assisted the Hero Jason.
Heracles once played host to Medea in life, and that sacred bond of xenia between host and guest connected them together even as Heroic Spirits. And as Hospitality is a domain of Heracles' divine father Zeus, that bond was even stronger than normal.
Even with his intellect left at a mere dust mote of its full brilliance due to the Berserker class' Madness Enhancement skill, Heracles would be completely incapable of harming Medea even if he wanted to, and it would take either a force greater than mighty Zeus himself or Medea personally assaulting the demigod for that bond's restraint to be lifted.
Thanks to his oversight and that damnable Shirou Emiya's insistence on saving every person he possibly could, the boy and his Servant, the legendary King Arturia Pendragon of the Saber class were able to reach an agreement with Medea and her new master. Caster would leave them alone, and they would leave her alone.
It seemed all Medea really wanted was to spend as much time with her new master as she possibly could, and Shirou wanted to avoid as much conflict as possible.
It was just as likely Caster planned to betray the Emiya boy in the future. While the betrayal and exile she suffered were tragic, Caster undoubtedly possessed a conniving, scheming nature of her own. Though the love she felt for her master appeared genuine, she clearly had other interests in mind as well.
This also neutralized any threat from Caster's own Servant, the fictional Assassin Sasaki Kojirou, as his only purpose was to protect Caster and the temple she called home.
This turn of events, while unfavorable to his schemes, would have worked itself out in due time had Berserker been anyone other than Heracles. Thanks to the protection Caster's bond with the demigod offered them, Shirou and Saber were able to force the Einzbern doll that was Berserker's master to sit down with and listen to her adopted brother.
It was infuriatingly ironic. The adopted child and spawn of the previous man the entity had tried to use for its plans, Kiritsugu Emiya, were now acting like brother and sister. The girl's mother, Irisviel von Einzbern, was even the previous Lesser Holy Grail. It seemed the Emiya family was destined to screw up the entity's plans, no matter if they were unaware of it or not.
Then, the overwhelming might of the alliance between Heracles and King Arthur had made them intimidating enough to force the Tohsaka girl and her Servant Archer into their group as well.
The entity briefly considering using the previous war's Archer, Gilgamesh, to defeat this alliance, but decided against it. While Gilgamesh was currently contracted with a man named Kirei Kotomine, his Independent Action skill meant he could freely ignore his master's commands. Even though Kirei shared the entity's desires for mankind, (that was why the Shadow chose to resurrect him after all,) Gilgamesh did not, at least to the same extent. And he was dangerous.
The Shadow hadn't absorbed him in the last war because the ancient King of Uruk horrified him. The King of Heroes was far too powerful to even consider manipulating. He would surely destroy the entity in retaliation.
Plans laid more than a century in advance were about to go to waste, and there was nothing the Shadow could do about it. Though he pretended to be a Servant of the unique Avenger class, and even… accepted orders from his "master", a girl named Sakura Matou, he was, well, weak.
Almost disgustingly so. Oh sure, Avenger was more than a match for any normal human and most mages. Even Servants with E rank parameters were well above ten times higher than a mortal's capabilities.
But aside from his technical status as a Servant, Avenger was a normal human. The only real advantage he had was his ability to hide in the shadows of people. Fighting against other Servants directly was impossible. The failure the Einzberns suffered in the Third Holy Grail War was proof of that. The failure he suffered.
Then again, he couldn't complain really. That defeat was what had gotten him into the Grail in the first place, and put him in his current position. Oh, yeah. His current position wasn't exactly a good one.
Just as the entity was about to lose itself in its overwhelming flood of hatred for the Emiya family, it remembered a crucial detail of the object it had corrupted.
The Greater Holy Grail had a Reserve System, exactly for situations such as this. When a majority of the Servants summoned for the Holy Grail War were united under a single banner, seven more masters could be chosen and seven more Servants could be summoned. All the entity needed to do was give Command Seals to seven more humans and make sure none of their Servants would cooperate with the Fuyuki group, and it would have what it needed.
It mattered not where the humans came from, how strong they were, or even that they win. All that mattered was that the entity received the energy of more Servants, and that it manifested itself through the winner's wish. The masters could all be children off the streets for all he cared.
Though this presented the entity with another problem. It would need to summon a Ruler class servant of its own to ensure the two teams followed the rules. Fortunately, there were many eligible candidates in the Throne of Heroes to choose from, and he had until all of the new masters summoned their Servants to make a choice.
Yes, Jeanne D'arc would do quite nicely, or perhaps Saint Martha, or even Sherlock Holmes.
Alright, maybe not Holmes. With his luck, the detective would figure out what was going on behind the scenes and unite all fourteen master-Servant pairs within a day.
The others, though, would make excellent pawns.
Within the darkness of the Greater Holy Grail, the entity began to laugh. He could still turn this setback to his advantage after all! The energy he would gain from the spirits of that many Servants would just make him that much stronger when he manifested himself.
Avenger would realize his ambition, and All The World's Evil would destroy humanity.
.-.
Batreaux Westwood was decidedly not having a good day. First the blond American found out he was being fired from his job as a janitor at the local high school. Personally he thought it was complete bullshit. He may not have been good at much, but if there was one thing he was good at, it was cleaning.
It had taken him longer than he liked to admit to get even that job in the first place, and he gets fired after only three months? Total bullshit. He was one of the best janitors the school had ever seen! Though he had to admit, it may have had something to do with the weird tattoo that had appeared on the back of his right hand. Couldn't set a bad example for all the kids at school, right?
That was the odd thing, the tattoo just showed up on his hand overnight. Batreaux enjoyed alchohol, yes. Perhaps more than a man should, yes. But aside from one time in Dallas ("Don't ask," he'd tell anyone who'd ask,) he'd never actually been drunk before. Hell, even then he was still lucid. He'd definitely remember getting a tattoo, especially one as expensive as this.
It certainly looked expensive. With a strange, intricate design, the tattoo appeared to be three smaller tattoos arranged to form the shape of a medieval knight's helmet. Batreaux could practically feel some kind of vile sorcery directly attacking his bank account just by looking at it.
Batreaux really hoped this was some kind of prank his roommate was pulling on him and that the tattoo was temporary. If it wasn't, well, his already limited finances would pretty much be ruined, and he knew Elise wasn't stupid enough to use their rent money on a joke like this. He hoped she wasn't anyway.
Though if this was a real tattoo he needed to find another job, and fast. He and Elise were almost out of time to pay their rent for the next month, and her job flipping burgers didn't really bring in enough cash for the both of them.
Batreaux was startled out of his thoughts by the screech of tires grinding to a halt and the incessant honking of a car horn. Apparently while lost in his thoughts the 24 year old nearly got himself run over by a now very angry driver shouting expletives at him as he hurried through the crosswalk.
"Pedestrians have right-of-way, asshole!" he shouted at the driver as she sped off. Sure, he should've paid more attention to where he was going, but that idiot driver shouldn't be trying to run red lights either. "tch."
Batreaux's mood improved itself after realizing he'd arrived at his destination, the local church. Batreaux wasn't a very religious man, but he'd developed a friendship with the pastor, Father Giovanni Bianchi. The old man was the archetypal priest, kindly and patient. He'd given Batreaux a lot of good advice over the years, filling the role of a father figure where his biological father had failed.
Of course, as was usual when Batreaux visited the old man was alone in his office, so he had to knock to get the priest's attention.
A moment later, the solid oak door opened with a slight creak, and the wrinkled face of Father Bianchi lit up upon seeing his friend. "Ah, Batreaux. It is good to see you again. Please, come in." Father Bianchi held the door open as his friend sat down in the leather chair facing the priest's desk, and a moment later the priest sat down behind the desk, door closing with a faint click.
The shelves behind Father Bianchi's desk were filled with a variety of books on all kinds of subjects, ranging from archaeology to zoroastrianism. They were also filled with scripture and other clerical texts, though that was to be expected of a priest.
What really caught Batreaux's eye was a new book on the desk, "History and Principles of Thaumaturgy". He was unsure why, but he felt a slight burning on the back of his hand when he looked at it. Only later would Batreaux realize the burning was in the same spot as his mysterious new tattoo.
"If you don't mind my asking, Father, where'd you get your new book from?" The old man smiled. He was quite pleased to see the younger man taking an interest in his collection at long last.
"Oh, this?" Father Bianchi answered. "I'm borrowing it from an associate of mine, a man known as Lord El-Melloi II. Were you interested in it?"
Batreaux leaned forward in his seat, blowing a lock of blond hair out of his face. "Yeah, kinda. It's a book about Thaumaturgy, right? I didn't expect a priest to be studying magic. Uh, no offense."
Father Bianchi simply chuckled lightly in response. "None taken my friend. Think of it the same way you would a stage magician's performance. It may not be real magic, but one can still appreciate the effort and techniques that go into the illusions, correct?"
Batreaux thought this seemed reasonable at first. But after thinking on it for a moment he had some questions. "Wait a second. You just said it's not 'real' magic. But Thaumaturgy means magic, or something like that right? How can it both be real and not real at the same time?"
A wry smile appeared on Father Bianchi, and the priest stroked his magnificent beard as he thought to himself. He had noticed the "tattoo" on Batreaux's hand, and he knew what it was.
So, the boy has received a Command Seal… I suppose I'll need to explain the situation he's in now.
Father Bianchi reached under his desk and opened the safe he kept a valuable item in. When he placed it on the desk, to Batreaux it seemed like a simple piece of wood, albeit a very smooth, nice looking piece of wood. In actuality, the piece of wood was once part of the legendary Round Table. Upon seeing Batreaux's Command Seal, the priest decided to entrust his young friend with the valuable catalyst in the hopes he could summon an honorable knight to protect him, should he pursue the path fate had placed him on.
"It is quite simple. You see, Thaumaturgy is not magic, but rather an imitation of it known as magecraft. While they use the same energies, True Magic is capable of accomplishing acts beyond the laws of reality, while magecraft must adhere to said laws."
Batreaux found himself irritated with the priest for the first time since they had met. He readjusted his jacket and ground his teeth lightly. Either Elise and Father Bianchi had decided to prank him separately or they were working together on a joint venture.
Either way, he didn't really appreciate it given how expensive his new tattoo seemed to be. Batreaux wasn't nearly drunk enough or rich enough to put up with this shit right now.
His grip tightened on the arm of the chair and he spoke as calm as he possibly could. "I mean no disrespect, Father, but I'm really not in the mood for this kind of joke right now. Magic's not real. In fact what you just described sounds a lot like science."
"Is science not magic men know and understand? Do you not think if we took one of the marvels of technology we possess today and showed it to a man from even a hundred years ago that he would not think it magic?"
Batreaux sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He probably shouldn't have though, as he got a pair of fingerprints on the lenses of his glasses. "You make a good point, but I really don't have time for this. I just got fired and I was wondering if you knew of any job openings nearby."
In that moment, Father Bianchi knew exactly how he would convince Batreaux of magic's existence. He pointed towards the Command Seal on Batreaux's hand. "I assume the urgency is due to your new marking? I can assure you my friend, it did not cost you a cent. Rather, it is a Command Seal, a magical marking that designates you for a higher purpose."
Batreaux's eye began to twitch. Father Bianchi sighed. He could tell the youth was ready to just walk out then and there. He reached into his pocket and took hold of a gemstone. Ever since he had learned of magecraft and the rituals surrounding it, he had decided to become a practitioner of jewel magic. Though this would likely be his final act of magecraft, he could see no better use. The priest did not remove the stone from his pocket quite yet, however.
First, he wanted to help Batreaux's financial issue, and have a bit of fun while doing it. "Let's make a friendly wager, shall we? If I can convince you magecraft is real, then I will provide you with enough money to take care of your finances for, oh let's say two months or so."
Batreaux raised an eyebrow in confusion. The offer fit with Father Bianchi's generous nature, but didn't make sense from the perspective of a man making a bet. Batreaux's grey eyes met the priest's gentle brown eyes. He couldn't even begin to tell the motivation of this.
"That doesn't make much sense, Father. What happens if you can't convince me that magic's real?"
Father Bianchi had his friend hooked. "Then I give you some money and point you towards the nearest job openings I've learned about. I trust you have no problem with this?" Now Batreaux was more confused than he was irritated, but he was also intrigued. It seemed like a win-win for him.
Batreaux nodded and smirked lightly. "Alright then. I'm not one to pass up free cash. What are going to do, light that piece of wood on fire?"
It was Father Bianchi's turn to smirk. He had the younger man right where he wanted him. "Oh no, it's much too valuable for that. Instead, I'm going to change the shape of this gem."
The priest pulled out the gemstone from his pocket and placed it on the desk in between the book and the wood. It was a magnificent crimson ruby, about the size of a thumb and cut to perfection. The candlelight of the priest's office reflected beautifully from the jewel, filling the humble room with scarlet radiance.
Father Bianchi closed his hands over the ruby and began to focus. A red light washed over the room, from both an aura of energy surrounding the gemstone and a change in the color of the flames of the candles.
A gentle wind began to radiate from the gem, and the looser clothing of the two men slowly billowed in the breeze. Sweat began to run down Father Bianchi's face. The magic was clearly taking a toll on the old man.
An expression halfway between worry and awe was on Batreaux's face as he watched the magecraft, awe due to experiencing something most people thought impossible first hand, and worry due to the clear stress his friend was under.
Eventually, the light died down and Father Bianchi sat back down in his chair, wiping sweat from his brow and coughing lightly. On the desk, the ruby had been transformed. Where once laid a beautiful gemstone now laid an equally beautiful ruby carving of a bat.
In truth, "carving" was too crude a word to describe the statuette. There were no visible imperfections anywhere. It was as if the ruby bat had been naturally grown. Batreaux's face held an expression of wonder as he gently picked up and admired the small product of magecraft, the same wonder one has as a child who's just seen a magician perform for the first time.
"All right. I believe you. Magic's real. Could you tell me more about this mark on my hand? You called it a… Command Spell or something?"
Father Bianchi smiled, but the expression held no joy, only pity. The fate dealt to his friend would not be a kind or merciful one. He would face many hardships and in the end, the price of this knowledge may even cost him his life like it had many before him.
But facing hardship is what it means to be human, so the kindly priest faced Batreaux's resolve with his own, and informed the younger man of all he would need to know.
"That mark on your right hand is known as a Command Seal. The design is different for each person who receives one, but they all have one thing in common. It brands you as a Master, and grants you the right to command a Servant in a ritual known as the Holy Grail War."
Batreaux blinked slowly. He had several questions. "Okay, so this mark means I'm a Master and can order a Servant, whatever that means, but- hey wait a minute, did you say 'Holy Grail'!?"
"Indeed I did my friend. Seven pairs of Masters and Servants compete with each other in combat for the right to have a wish granted. However, the Grail in question is but a mere imitation. Being honest, I have some… concerns about that, but they are best left unsaid for now."
Batreaux leaned his head on his left hand and thought for a moment. "Yeah, it makes sense for this Grail to be a fake," he said. "If the actual cup Christ drank from at the Last Supper had been found, I'm sure it would've already been sent to the Vatican or something. So I have to fight six other people and I get a wish granted if I win? What's a Servant anyway?"
Father Bianchi knew his friend held great interest in the histories and mythologies of the world. He was sure to enjoy this next part.
"A Servant is essentially the resurrected soul of a legendary hero, summoned back to the world through a ritual performed by their Masters."
Batreaux's face lit up with a wide smile. "Legendary hero? You mean like Hercules, King Arthur or Gilgamesh? That's awesome! And you're telling me all I have to do is perform a summoning ritual and I'll have a great hero to fight for me?
The old priest nodded in affirmation, his face solemn. "Indeed. Though the ritual can only be performed by a mage, you don't have to worry about that. The simple fact you were chosen to bear a Command Seal is proof enough there is magic in your family's genealogy. Though you will be rather weak as a mage, you should still be able to complete the summoning."
Batreaux grinned and stood up in a hurry. "What are we waiting for then? Let's go summon my Servant already!"
"Be warned," Father Bianchi said suddenly, the most serious Batreaux had ever seen him. "The Holy Grail War is not to be treated as a mere game. Many masters have died in past Wars, and should you choose to participate in this one, it is very likely you will die as well. I cannot guarantee your safety."
"R-right…" Batreaux left the priest's office and sat down on one of the pews. He exhaled slowly, taking in the information he'd just received.
Magic was real. He was descended from mages. He had the right to control a legendary hero in battle. He would probably die. Obviously, it was that last bit that had him worried.
He held his right hand up out in front of him and stared at the Command Seal. In the lighting of the church, it appeared to be the color of dried blood. The image of the knight's helmet seemed to mock Batreaux, as if to tell him "You have no courage and no honor. Begone, knave."
Wouldn't be the first time I'd heard something like that. Batreaux bitterly thought to himself.
.-.
A few hours later, Batreaux stood before the summoning circle he had constructed with Father Bianchi's help. After the circle was completed, the priest had excused himself to go grocery shopping, leaving Batreaux alone for the time being. He looked down at his hands.
In the left, he held the fragment of the Round Table Father Bianchi had shown him earlier. The priest had given it to him, explaining it would be the catalyst the younger man would use in his summoning.
On his right hand, the Command Seal. He had given a lot of thought to what the priest had told him just before he left, and looked back over it one more time before making his decision on how to proceed.
"I won't blame you if you decide to turn back," he'd been told. "The Grail War has claimed many lives, some not unlike your own. Put simply, participating in a Grail War is like walking into Hell itself. If you don't want to be a part of it, you can simply give me the Command Seals and return to your normal life. No one sane would think less of you for it."
"But if you perform this summoning, you will have set down a path you can't return from. You will march to face your destiny. Before you make a choice, you need to ask yourself 'can I grasp it?'"
Only he had the answer to that question. And as Batreaux placed his catalyst on the small altar he'd created for the ritual, he'd made his choice. He would not hide from his destiny.
"Can I grasp it? Of course I can. I have to." Batreaux raised his right hand towards the summoning circle and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Once he was mentally prepared, he opened his eyes and recited an incantation. Some parts of it he'd needed to memorize, others came to him as if by instinct.
"Silver and steel are the essence.
Stone and the origin of pacts, the foundation."
At that moment, an image appeared in Batreaux's mind. Thirteen chess pieces, six red opposing seven blue. The red pieces began to glow with light, as if calling him to them.
"Red, the color of blood that burns within."
At those words, a ring of red light began to trace around the edge of his summoning circle, originating from the four cardinal directions. When the light connected itself, the rest of the circle started to glow in the same color, emanating upwards and bathing Batreaux and the walls of the church crimson.
"Erect a wall to block out the wind, and let the four prime gates be closed.
Follow the three-pronged road of the Crown, that reaches unto the Kingdom.
Batreaux's Command Seal pulsed with red energy, more vibrant and focused than that of his summoning circle. By this point the outpouring of energy from the circle had generated a wind from within, blowing back his long hair and loose jacket.
"I hereby swear, swear your fealty to me, and my life shall be your sharpest sword.
I hereby swear, that I shall be all the good in this world. That I shall defeat all the evil in the world.
If you heed the call of the Grail, and abide by the laws, then answer my summoning!"
The circle began to release surges of energy in time with each line of Batreaux's incantation, each with enough power for him to feel it in the deepest parts of his soul. The ground beneath him began to shake, and the ethereal wind from the circle grew more violent.
"From the Seventh Heaven, with Three Words of Power, come forth from the ring of control, Guardian of Heavenly Scales!"
The summoning circle exploded into a column of scarlet fire, with a great roar that sounded as if from a dragon. Fear began to creep into Batreaux's heart, but he stood firm, even as the column of fire quickly expanded outwards to cover the entirety of the room he was in. For a moment, he saw a figure appear within the flames, then they disappeared as quickly as they had started.
The figure knelt down on one knee. Clad head to toe in imposing steel armor, the figure appeared more like they belonged at a renaissance faire. The armor itself was intimidating, red marks scattered across it in a color closer to blood than the flames that brought them forth. A menacing closed-face helmet sat on the Servant's head, completely obscuring their face. The servant's head was bowed respectfully towards their new Master. Despite the demonic appearance of their horned armor, they had clearly been trained as a true and honorable knight.
Batreaux was a bit put off. For whatever reason, he couldn't see the "status screen" of his Servant like he'd been told all Masters were capable of. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He could "see" the "screen", but it was empty. Batreaux had no information on his Servant aside from the appearance of their armor.
Although… Batreaux thought, Since I used a splinter of the Round Table for my catalyst, I was guaranteed one of its knights, right? I may have an idea who you are after all.
The mysterious Servant drew themselves up to their full height, standing straight and proud.
"Servant Saber. I have answered your call." the knight declared dramatically. Their voice sounded distorted, leaving it with a tone somewhere between that of a man and a woman.
Normally this would work to further obscure the Servants identity, but with the information Batreaux already had, it confirmed their identity to him instead.
Only one Knight of the Round would ever disguise themselves like that.
"Welcome, Saber! I am Batreaux Westwood, your new Master. Would you be so kind as to tell me your name?" There was a clicking sound. Batreaux noticed parts of Saber's helmet had detached, near the neck. He raised an eyebrow in interest. With a series of metallic clangs, his Servant's helmet magically split down the middle and separated into various pieces, all of which combined with the rest of the armor, though the horns of the helmet could still be seen.
A blonde ponytail unfurled and fell behind Saber's head, and Batreaux could see the intensity in their emerald eyes as they stared into his own.
He almost couldn't believe what he was seeing. Saber, the legendary Knight of the Round he had summoned, seemed to be a young girl no more than fifteen years of age.
Saber stabbed her sword into the floor in front of her, resting her hands on the right side of its pommel, giving Batreaux a full view of its almost impossibly beautiful silver blade.
Then, with a voice full of the pride one of her royal lineage deserved, Saber revealed her true name to her Master.
"I am Mordred, the one and true heir of Arthur Pendragon."
In response, all Batreaux could give was one simple word.
"What."
Fate/Stay Night: Dai Taisen
Episode 1: The Knight of Treachery
A/N: Alright, welcome to my newest fic, Fate/Stay Night: Dai Taisen. As you can see, this follows a hypothetical "fourth route" where Shirou manages to convince Caster to assist him and Saber instead of attacking them, even if said truce is very temporary. Honestly I'm surprised there wasn't more interactions between Caster and Berserker, the two knew each other in life after all.
For the purposes of this story, all the Masters of Red will be oc characters. With that in mind, Saber of Red, Mordred, will be the only one from Apocrypha to retain her role. All other Servants of Red will be different characters, so look forward to who comes next! (And I look forward to your guesses.)
As for the other stories I have left unfinished, I honestly don't have an excuse. I've lost interest in RWBY as of late, so Miracles of Ancient Wonder is on indefinite hiatus. Apologies. As for Polaris, I do plan to continue it soon.
Please read and review, give constructive criticism, don't whizz on the electric fence, all that good stuff. Also, if you could tell me how long it took to read this chapter in your review, that'd help me out a lot. Ideally these would take about 22 minutes to read on average.
Thank you all, and I will see you next time.
