Hello, so this is my first attempt at posting a fanfiction here, um, let me know if it's any good! Fate/Zero and related fandoms do not belong to me, nor do any of the other fandoms in this work (which shall remain unnamed until the characters from those fandoms are revealed, of course!)

So, please read and review, leave comments in the comment box!

Chapter 1: The Summoning

-Assassin-

Kotomine Kirei looked down upon his servant, somewhat bemused.

After all, he had expected to enter a competition between powerful heroes of old. Well, he noted, he was summoning from the Assassin class – no doubt the Servants of that class would be far less glamorous than those of other classes.

Still, he had not expected to summon what appeared to be, for all intents and purposes, a little girl.

Assassin had a small, slight frame which couldn't belong to anyone older than thirteen. She wore a pleated black skirt over long, black stockings. On her torso was a formal white blouse with a grey collar. She wore her long, black hair down and loose – absently, Kotomine noted that such hair was somewhat unsuited to combat. All in all, she didn't look that much different from an ordinary middle school student.

Yet two things alerted the priest otherwise. One, the violet gem embedded in her left hand. He might only be an average Magus, but Kotomine Kirei had studied under the famed Tohsaka Tokiomi – and whatever this gem was, it held more power than he'd ever seen sealed inside a single jewel.

More than that, however, there was something in her deep, violet eyes. Something in the way she stood – a sort of resolution inside her. A grim determination, tempered by pain and sorrow – something that Kotomine had only seen in people twice her age, at the very least. That grim, determined look was something that should never be seen in the eyes of one so young.

-Lancer-

Kayneth of the Archibald family, the Lord El-Melloi, was not pleased.

The catalyst with which he'd attempted to summon a powerful Servant had been stolen from him, for one. Two, his efforts to acquire a new one had exposed him to his enemies as a Master far earlier than he'd have preferred.

"Hey, boss, I'll need a little more here," the voice of a boy said.

Oh yes, and the third thing. His Servant. Lancer was a younger man, with long, golden hair tied back in a braid, with matching intense, golden eyes. He wore a bright red jacket with a large emblem on its back over his simple black uniform. He also wore white gloves, for whatever reason – as if a Servant's identity could be revealed by their hands.

Oh, and he was as insufferable as he was short.

"I am not your caterer, Lancer," Kayneth snarled. "I am-"

"My master, Kayneth Archibald, the Lord El-Melloi, yeah, yeah," Lancer waved his hand dismissively. "We both know that you're basically useless here without me." He put his feet up on the table, as if to add further insult.

"Why you…" The temptation to use a Command Spell here was rather severe. Deep breaths, Kayneth, this isn't the time to get frustrated over such trivial matters. Besides, the last time Kayneth had insulted his Servant, he'd been rather unceremoniously thrown across the room, and that was all kinds of unpleasant.

He took a deep breath. "Lancer, is there a point to this insubordination?"

The blond Servant shrugged. "Probably your high horse and that stick shoved up your ass."

That struck a nerve. "Insolent little…"

"Enough," interrupted a soft female voice, as Kayneth's fiancée, Sola-Ui, stepped into the room. "I swear, both of you act like children sometimes."

Lancer was about to retort to that, but a single glare from Sola-Ui silenced both him and his Master. Neither of them were quite sure how she had ended up the senior partner in this relationship, but here we are. She sighed. "Shouldn't we be focused on strategy for the war? Besides, Lancer, you don't even need to eat."

Master and Servant alike looked down sheepishly. Lancer muttered some final curses before joining Kayneth and Sola-Ui at the strategy table.

-Rider-

A figure, clad in black finery trimmed with rich red velvet stood up from the centre of the circle. Long, wavy, dark blue hair cascaded from his head. He had a pointed, immaculately groomed goatee, and unsettling, intense, mismatched eyes; one an emerald green, the other a bright, bloody red. Those eyes stared down at the young man as the mouth opened, revealing sharp, pointed teeth as he spoke:

"I ask of you," he said, in a rich, low, smooth voice, "Are you my Master?"

Before him, the young Magus Waver Velvet stood up, presenting the red Command Seals on his wrist. "Yes." He said. "I am your Master."

The aristocratic spirit smiled. "Good." He stepped out of the shadows of the woods where Waver had summoned him. All aspects of his appearance were striking, but most of all was his skin, a blue matching that of the sky. Inwardly, Waver cursed. He couldn't just explain away this alien-looking Servant as a relative.

"Er…" Waver paused. "What class of Servant are you?"

The spirit raised an eyebrow. "You mean to say you summoned me without even knowing my class?" A bemused smile took his face, as he shrugged. "Very well. I am the Servant Rider."

Rider, eh? Well, he shouldn't be so surprised – no way was a weak Magus like him powerful enough to summon one of the Knight Classes. He opened his mouth to ask another question, but Rider raised a gloved hand.

"You wish to know my identity, which is understandable; but it is foolish. A secret known is one easily plucked – one unknown cannot be revealed." Rider smiled down at his Master with the smoothness and ease of an actor. "You have a dream you wish to realize – thus, you have become my Master. So, then, what is your wish?"

Waver nodded shakily, clearing his throat. "I-I wish for those backwards idiots at the Association to take me seriously. I…I want respect."

At his words, inwardly, Rider smiled wickedly. Yes, this one would do nicely.

Outwardly, he nodded. "A worthy wish, my Master."

-Archer-

Tohsaka Tokiomi nodded at the three in front of him, in the candle-lit darkness of his study. "With Kotomine apparently out of the running, you, Assassin, will be able to work from the shadows."

While Kotomine and Assassin nodded in their usually quiet fashion, Tokiomi's own Servant, Archer, looked a bit uncomfortable.

Tokiomi nodded. "Very well, Archer, do you object to this plan?"

Archer stood up, adjusting her blue cap. Archer was a shorter individual with short, dark blue hair. They wore a blue jacket, buttoned up over plaid blue pants. An acute, analytic stare was always in their bright blue eyes, on their boyish face, like there was something they were always trying to figure out.

"The very beginning of the war, Tohsaka Tokiomi's student betrays him and attempts to assassinate him? That just screams 'suspicious'." Archer's voice was calm, measured. "And then, I am to notice Assassin before she even reaches the interior of the house? Too risky – they'll see my fighting style, as well, and think of countermeasures. If I'm to be your primary combat Servant, Tohsaka, then it would be better if I were to remain an unknown factor until we are forced to participate in a proper battle."

Assassin nodded, agreeing with Archer's summary. "Indeed, Archer is correct. That conspicuous an attack, from an Assassin Servant just seems unlikely."

Tokiomi frowned, unconvinced. "Do you have a better plan, then, Archer?"

A small smile crossed their face. "As a matter of fact, due to the nature of my Noble Phantasm, yes. I do."

-Berserker-

Matou Kariya looked once again on his Servant, doubtfully.

Certainly, he said he was a Berserker, but what sort of a Berserker was this? He had a mop of messy, short brown hair matching his bright brown eyes. He wore a skin-tight, dark blue bodysuit over his frail, skinny frame. A sort of grey battle harness of design occupied his upper chest and shoulders, with the numbers "01" written in blocky script on the center of his chest.

What sort of Berserker had the frame of a small boy? And what of that 'rage' that the Berserker class was supposed to posess? This boy looked like he was about to cry whenever Kariya even spoke too loudly.

A failure of a Servant, no doubt – just as Kariya was a failure.

No doubt Zouken was laughing about this, the bastard…

"Um…" Berserker seemed nervous anytime he so much as talked to his Master. "I…I may not be the strongest Servant, but I-I will do my best, Master."

Kariya turned to respond, then grimaced as another spasm of pain wracked his ruined nerves. Berserker glanced away, muttering an apology under his breath, again.

Why did this Berserker keep apologizing? It was probably his own fault, his own pathetic failure as a Magus that led him to summon such a weak Servant.

As Master and Servant stumbled out of the Matou mansion into the rain – as Zouken was not allowing an abject failure like Kariya to stay inside their house – the youngest member of the household, the young Matou Sakura, looked up at the two.

Though she knew nothing of magecraft, the attunement to magic that had flooded her circuits every time Grandfather shoved her down into that…training, she could feel the powerful waves of energy coming off Berserker. Whatever he might think of himself, whatever Kariya couldn't see, there was a power behind Berserker that neither of them even began to dream of.

-Caster-

Uryuu Ryuunosuke, famed demon and serial killer, was ecstatic. The circle of blood on the floor flared with ruby light, the blood shining like jewels, as a torrent of energy, or whatever it was, flared inside it. Was this really true? Was he really going to summon a demon, here and now?

Oh yes, oh yes, and the demon would eat the child, yes, yes, he wanted to see it. The blood, the hate, fear of the child in its eyes as the light faded, yes…

Then, the light stopped, a man standing in the center. Ryuunosuke fell back, in reverence for the hateful being that had come forth. Anyone who would come forth from such a ritual had to be a monster, just as he was.

The man was tall, with an imperious, arrogant look in his green eyes. He had long, black hair which only made him look more blue-blooded. He wore a green-and-gold outfit, bits of it looking like they were made of leather, or whatever. Ryuunosuke didn't really know whatever it was. Frankly, he expected a demon to look a little more…horrific?

But still, he was not one to be judgmental. "Here, oh great demon, a gift for you." Ryuunosuke stepped aside, revealing the child tied to a chair, his eyes widening in fear at the imperious man who had appeared before him.

The man looked down at the child with disdain, then down at the serial killer's hand. "So, this groveling fool is to be my Master...I suppose it can't be helped." He raised his hand, a long, bladed, golden staff with a glowing, blue jewel, and touched it to the fearful child's chest.

Ryuunosuke's eyes widened, the grin on his face evident…then falling, as the child's eyes turned bright blue, and he failed to die. "Awww, why didn't you kill him? Do you want me to do it?"

The man glared down at his new Master. "I have made this child my thrall. He will serve us as our eyes and ears, for who would suspect a mere child to be part of the Holy Grail War."

The red-haired killer tilted his head. "Grail War? What's that?"

Caster sighed. This was going to be a long day.

-Saber-

Irisviel von Einzbern smiled down at her family, at her husband, Emiya Kiritsugu, at her beautiful little daughter Illyasviel. How happy they looked, playing together in the snow. How even Kiritsugu, that broken man, had smiled when Illya had demanded he go outside and play with her.

A tinge of sadness touched her smile, however, when she realized that this really would be the last time she saw them like this. The last time she'd see Kiritsugu happy, the last time she'd see her beautiful daughter.

She had to be strong. For Kiritsugu. She was created with one purpose, and yet Kiritsugu helped her live as more than just a tool. For that, Irisviel would be forever grateful. Yet, for Kiritsugu's purpose, she needed to fulfill her destiny, painful as it may be.

Kiritsugu's Servant also looked down, her deep, blue eyes gazing down upon that scene. Truth be told, Saber found it hard to believe that Emiya Kiritsugu, of all people, could truly love his family. Perhaps, however, she was wrong.

After all, if there was anything she understood, it was the love of family. Perhaps she and Emiya were not too dissimilar, after all. Saber brushed a lock of her long, blue hair out of her face. "Irisviel, you are certain of this?"

Irisviel nodded. "I am. Kiritsugu's wish is something more important than even me."

Saber sighed, her blue cape flapping as she turned away from the window. How much this family loved one another, how much they reminded her of her own.

Before…Saber shook her head. If her Master's wish was truly so worthy, then she would help him however she could. "Very well. Are you ready to leave?"

Irisviel nodded, as she stood up, as Saber looked out the window again.

She had to win, she thought, as she fastened her blue steel mask across her face.

For her father.