Fate/Stay Archetype
Characters in the following story are based off, but not necessarily the same as, the characters in Type-Moon's story Fate/Stay Night. Some characters may seem out of their usual traits, but I assure you that all changes were made to preserve contingency, develop the story, or allow for other plot based decisions to be made no behalf of the writer a.k.a. me.
Chapter 1: The Golden King
What time was it?
It was time enough for faint sleep to drown Rin Tohsaka's eyes in the deluge of rest. The growling of her stomach marked the climax of the spell with a precise and mournful note as all flashed white and purple, gold and black, red and grey. Light formed, rose up, broke form, flashed out, and descended into darkness. Space seemed to freeze, brake, start and stop. Heat like a whirlwind's force drew in the cold night air, shifted it; the light and darkness, cold and hot vied for conquest. Time and space became unequal, light was distorted, and the darkness seemed grotesque. The world was unbalanced, like a scale broken at the apex, deformed and out of place, as if things were falling apart.
Rin chanted the words of a foreign time and place, relics of a not so distant past and her father's not so distant departure. Like a bull on a rampage, the darkness drew battle with the light, the light glowing gold as the prince of the sand. The heat and light grappled for eternities, life flashed by, illusive conflagrations connected and distant darkness jaunted. Blackness covered what was light, light filled in the darkness. Their strengths matched until only one could win.
Thrice the winds outside howled, rushing off the warping window panes as silent night walked her presence into the room, and, as the roof that wrapped the house burst forth, the flux of light and darkness settled, the lulling light and dank dusk accompanied by the moonlight glow greeted Rin's eyes.
"Hello." The man spoke, clad in gold armor, rich and luxurious, more like a woman's dress than the garb of a warrior. His form was graceful, powerful, strong, and forceful. His eyes were gold, his hair in the same fashion. He was tall, fit, well balanced. His ears were affixed with two golden earrings and the effect of his raiment was overwhelming. From zenith to nadir, he was perfect and perhaps the most handsome man Rin had laid eyes on.
"S-s-so, you're my servant?" She said with some conviction tacked onto the end, despite her fear of this man's overwhelming presence. Her gaze wandered up and down, side to side, escaping first and then being captured all at once by the man's innate charisma.
"I suppose you could call me that, although I do find the name serv-"
"Fine then, then I'm your master. You're bound to me and will do whatever I tell you, is that correct?" She cut him off mid sentence and he let out a demeaning sigh. She was afraid, but her conviction said nothing of it. Her gaze had finally settled on the man's chin, a place she could look without feeling the burden of his eyes, his golden eyes.
"That is fine. I'll recognize you as my master," he said slowly.
"And so, what kind of servant are you?" He let out a laugh at this question, as if the thought of not being able recognize him hadn't occurred.
"Heh, you don't know? I don't blame you. You could never understand the grandiose existence of one such as myself." He paused before letting out his answer, relishing in the moment. His grin spread, a Glasgow smile. As Odysseus said to the Phaiakian court, so did the golden spirit say to her:
"I am Archer, servant of you and the most powerful existence in the world."
† † †
War is the longing of those to whom life is not enough of a stage to prove their power. It is a tale told by an idiot, signifying nothing. But perhaps if anyone had realized this sooner, they may have had something to say when this world was created. Whether by God's decree, by the ancient forces of the cosmos or even if this world had no beginning, I've often wondered why the façade of strength war seems to guarantee has been taken up by people so freely.
Hypocritically, my life has also been drawn by the whirlpool that is battle. My father once said that it was my duty to fight and, more importantly, to win. It was back in my youth and those lonely days where children frolic their lives away with their friends until cruel reality bends the spokes on their bikes and breaks one too many windows on their house. Only, I never had such a petty childhood. Night after night, when I knew my father was fighting, I would say softly to myself the word "magus". It was a cute word, like "swoon" and faint" or even "epiphany". Sometimes, I'd stay up all night wondering whether or not my father would come home. Night after night, I'd ponder, only to be let down, like admiring the ships at a distance, as if they held my dreams onboard. Truth was, I thought my father was dead. I thought he would die even as he left. He said things to me about being a magus and the inevitability that life contained, about how my life would cross the Holy Grail, no matter how much of a struggle I made. Fate is a terrible burden.
So, as it seemed 10 years ago, war was beginning. Fighting is war when vast armies square off, the individual doesn't matter and the spoils can only be captured when all the enemies are dead. That last part is true about the war I'm entering. But the war over the Holy Grail is hardly a war in that sense. It's a war between magi, magic users, you know like hocus pocus, abracadabra, and all the cheesy magic tricks of illusionists? Forget it. We're the exact opposite of an illusionist. We're scientists, we're philosophers, and we're truth seekers. Knowledge is sought for power, power for fame, and fame to obtain more knowledge. The magi are the worst and most obstinate people you could imagine and we're proud of it, too. Money gets you far, fame gets you farther. However, this struggle for knowledge is why we fight in this war. Our demonic arts, our spells of harm and our guile are put forth to obtain the truth: one wish on the Holy Grail to sate our ultimate desires. And that is why I fight.
Even if it weren't about winning, we'd have to battle to stop others from winning. And who wouldn't want a wish? But the price of truth and knowledge is far higher in the Holy Grail War. Murder, broken trusts and cheap tactics run rampant in our wars. If they weren't so tempting and if the Magic Society didn't control it like it did then we'd be hard pressed to be able to fight for it without major destruction. The last Grail War caused a fire that leveled the entirety of the city and hasn't been built over since. The place was preserved as a memorial for all the victims, but no one knows the true story except us magi. We're a secretive bunch like that. The world hardly notices our presence and we're not allowed to show ourselves anyways. Even if we were, we'd be too busy researching to care. I suppose that's the way it goes.
By the way, my name is Rin. Rin Tohsaka. I come from a long line of magi, which I suppose means something. However, I'm the surviving heir and with the Grail War coming up, I've begun to feel like my heritage is the only thing getting me through. I'm young for a magus. Most of the magi in the Holy Grail War are matured, but I'm the only one who can represent the Tohsaka family. It means a lot now that I've begun to notice it, the fact that my family has such a strong influence on the magi of Japan and the Holy Grail. But nothing really matters to me aside from being a magus and keeping up my normal, honors student reputation, if truth be told.