Illyasviel Von Einzbern is ready.
She had been preparing her whole life for this, the Fifth Holy Grail War. While the timing of it couldn't have happened any sooner -what with the last war transpiring only ten years prior- she was confident in what she acquired. The details of this acquisition were a bit uncouth, to her liking, but that's what happens when she wanted only the best of servants. She kept her backup, after all, in a safe place within the Einzbern mansion here in the cold of Germany's mountainous hillsides; but she was confident she got exactly what she desired.
Standing in a hallowed chamber of cobblestone, a single window letting in rays of light shined over an intricate summoning circle. With the intricate lines crossed with copper placeholders, blood enamoring in a semi-circle at the epicenter and red jeweled necklace placed at the center with a silver chain still attached, completing its significance. Believing this to be the summoning catalyst required, she raised a hand out, and began the process, her handmaidens standing nearby to observe the ceremony.
"Let the etchings of silver ignite," She began to chant, her hand emitting a faint glow while the circle thrummed in response. "Ein, the trickle of blood represents the moon for which you're born. Zwei, copper pays the toll for the beckoning of your invitation. Drei, thine crystal becomes the anchor to bring you to the present. Repeat, Ein, Zwei, Drei! Repeat, Ein, Zwei, Drei! Let your presence fulfill this hallow accord; becoming my blade and bring about a divine acquisition for the prize! As Master I command you to come forth!"
Throughout her incantation, the circle thrummed and pulsed with an ominous halo of silver and blue, transforming into a crystalized blaze of crimson flame of mana. Swirling about and roaring with immense pressure, the materialization of the chosen Heroic Spirit happened instantly, thrusting forth in a blast of steam and smoke that filled the chamber, revealing a tall statuesque image that drew a coughing Illya's gaze up to the ceiling.
"I've heard your summoning, and I've arrived at your call," A deep tone breathed out, the broad shoulders wearing a stringed pair of crimson sleeves that matched the hakama worn around the waist, outlining the black form-fitted body armor he bore. Turning around, she'd see he had copper skin, striking white hair, and as his eyes opened, silvery-grey eyes. "I'd assume then that you're my...uh..."
As he looked in his range of sight, he'd see no one there. The surroundings he stood within were foreign to him and the air had a dank, confining atmosphere to it. It felt cold, and he furrowed his brow as he scanned the room without bending his neck. Seeing a pair of white-dressed women with identical complexion and scarlet eyes, he arched a brow with some recognition, "You're...!"
"Ahem!" A voice rang out, giving the Servant a start, stopping stiff as he fathomed the source clearly. "Down here!"
Craning his neck with a shiver, he lurched back as he saw the white-dressed girl. Enamored with no shoes and very little else to cover her snow-white skin, the red- eyed girl glared up at him, the back of her hands resting on her hips with a pointed scowl; it was somehow both endearing and frightening to behold!
"I...see," He stuttered out, trying to recover his dignity and conceal his shock as best as he could. "I take it that...you're my Master, then?"
"Yes," She tersely replied, flipping her hair back with a hand while jutting her hip to the side indignantly. "I take it that you're my Servant, Archer. However, you don't match the profile of what I was expecting; hardly the look of the King of Heroes."
Inside, the Servant balked, taking a step across the summoning circle to get his bearings. Hearing a clink of something metal beneath his boot, he looked down and saw a familiar red crystal. Bending down, he picked up the links of chain and held it up in front of his face, eyes scrutinizing its authenticity. After a few more seconds of awkward silence, he looked to her with a stare that made the Einzbern heir waver in her resolve.
"Where did you get this?" His graveled voice emanated almost dangerously.
"I don't like that tone of yours," Illya replied, frowning at him, crimson marks suddenly manifesting across her neck, wrapping around her jawline and over her broad brow. With her legs, arms and even lines beneath her white dress aglow, she raised a hand with a level of menace that made the man rethink his approach. "Should I have you eat your own boots, or punch yourself in the throat? I'll let you choose your punishment for such insubordination, Servant!"
"J-Just a moment!" He replied, waving the necklace and his free hand as he backed up a couple steps, feeling the proximity of the wall nearing dangerously behind him. "I'm serious! I think you tried summoning someone else and you got the wrong catalyst!"
"Go on," She urged him, feeling less angry but not wanting to show any sign of softening just yet. Something had felt fishy about the scheme of acquiring the Heroic Spirit, Gilgamesh, with such a gaudy piece of jewelry. She had assumed a far more decrepit looking artifact from a museum would've fit the part, but her handmaidens were insistent. Giving a periphery glance, she saw the handmaidens inch backward with one wearing a mask of indifference and the other looking very nervous. "How do you know I got the wrong catalyst?"
"Because you got this from the Tohsaka Mansion, right?" He asked, seeing a widening pair of red eyes and the marks lose their luster. Seeing the tailored Command Seals withdraw, he sighed with relief and stood more erect, walking forward with the necklace in hand. Looking down at her, he inquired with a serious glint in his eyes. "Tell me, how did you get it?"
"That's a good question," Illya replied, turning to look at the pair. "Sella. Leysritt. Please tell the nice spirit the whole story."
After exchanging glances -with Leysritt staring blankly at Sella- the latter finally sighed heavily, and nervously addressed them the tale.
"After insisting she acquires the King of Heroes herself, despite us being in possession of arguably the strongest Servant's catalyst, we did thorough investigation. Finding out through process of elimination and official registry as participants in the prior war, we found that it was none other than Tokiomi Tohsaka. Despite his passing, there was no evidence that his Servant nor its catalyst was lost and more than likely went as inheritance to his heiress, Rin Tohsaka. We attempted to infiltrate the manor and search for the object using a device honed to such artifacts through latent mana signatures; unfortunately, there was...a scuffle," Sella informed with a bead of sweat sliding down her brow across her cheek.
"The mistress of the manor was up late in the night and found us," Leysritt replied nonplussed, leaning her head to Sella. "She panicked and began firing spells. The girl fired spells back, all around us. It was quite unsightly."
"Nonetheless-!" The more mature Homunculus hastened in her explanation, visibly tensing up and gripping the hem of her skirt. "The box that we had discovered was smashed open, and the one thing we could grab was a bright red jewel. I had no idea what the actual artifact looked like, so I could only assume that it was the only thing of worth that meant its authenticity! I humbly apologize for misleading you-"
"Ten laps around the castle," Illya replied, dismissing her with a wave of her hand. "That's your punishment."
"R-Really?" She asked, almost disappointed that her young mistress hadn't punished her more severely.
"What's done is done, and now I know the truth. Also, Leysritt will carry you, since you're not that strong but you won't wear a coat," She added, making Leysritt wince ever-so slightly. Sella grinned a bit more, finding that she wasn't alone in her punishment. A clap later and the two hurried off, the sound of bickering echoing the hall once they were far enough away. Turning away, she sighed, looking up with disappointment at the red-black cloaked man. "I'm sorry I put so much faith in such clumsy subordinates. I hope you won't disappoint me in the same way."
"Uncouth, as it may have been, I can't deny that you're my Master when all is said and done," The white-haired man replied, handing her the necklace with a semblance of a smile. "But you should keep this under better wraps. Something tells me that because they left in such a hurry, its owner might want you to back with severe interest."
Her eyes briefly twinkled at the sight of genuine recognition. She hadn't been affirmed in a positive light other than her teacher, Sella, and from the distant past her mother Irisviel. Taking the necklace, she looked at it thoughtfully before palming it into her hand, determining to not lose it. Looking back up, she'd see his face returned to its cagey and stony exterior, masking his intentions from her sight.
"Well, if you aren't the King of Heroes, who are you exactly?" Illya asked pointedly.
"I dunno."
"WHAT do you MEAN by you DUNNO?!" She cried out in an instant shrill that made the Servant grimace with discomfort. Balling her fists, she waved her arms out with childish anger. "I summoned you perfectly! You should know exactly who you are! Don't lie to me, or else-!"
"H-Hold on, I'm just a bit frazzled is all!" He exclaimed, not wishing to invoke the sight of the brands on the girl's body. The mere sight of them chilled his phantasmal spine at the power and invocation's efficiency in putting out commands on his being. With a wave of his hand for emphasis, he explained with a dodgy look in his eyes. "I'll remember it in time, I just need to get more acclimated with your mana is all."
"Fine," She huffed, pouting her lips as she frowned up at him. "Three days."
"Pardon?" He questioned with fright.
"That's how long you have to remember your name. If not, then I shall force feed you your pants. And after that, your coat. And after that, your boots. And after you're out of clothing, I'll have Leysritt rip them out so you can do it all over again," She threatened a bit too calmly, her arms crossing her chest and her body turned to walk away from him. With her eyes looking over her shoulder, she asked coldly much to the Servant's dismay. "Is that a problem, Servant?"
"...no," He replied, finding his throat dry and his eyes looking helplessly at the girl.
"Good!" She whipped her head around, making her hair swish around as she pitter-patted her feet down the cold cobblestone floor down the dark corridor of the castle. "I'm going to get something to eat. Once I'm done, I want you to showcase your abilities to me firsthand on the castle grounds. If you aren't up to my expectations, I'll make you clean the whole castle's roofing with your tongue. See you in fifteen minutes."
The Heroic Spirit, EMIYA, felt like this was the worst case scenario. He had been summoned into the 5th Holy Grail War by none other than Illyasviel Von Einzbern. From his myriad of infinite encounters he's had with the girl she was both a victim and a terror in the conflict that sheared through Fuyuki of every timeline. While he was wary of her childish, borderline psychotic mood swings he was also in the bind of being emotionally compromised when it came to this specific girl.
She was, as EMIYA remembered, the one person he couldn't save in the war before he sacrificed his humanity to be a hero, years later. Murdered by Gilgamesh or Kirei Kotomine or had died from some other unknown, she was always coming short despite being armed to the teeth in literal and figurative sense. When it came to potential of mana and magical prowess, she had few rivals in this era of mages participating in the Fuyuki Grail War; he could feel a dramatic increase in strength and prowess just by being connected to her, with more potential than he could fathom.
Drawn to the slow snowfall of the outside, the Heroic Spirit observed the serene beauty of the barren landscape of white that was dotted with trees occupying the hillsides roamed as far as the eye could see. Turning to look at a purple fur coated Illya not far away, she was watching with hands in her coat's pocket, smiling in a way that intimidated him as her ruby eyes sparkled with expectation.
"Pull!" Sella cried out, causing Leysritt to hurtle a discus into the air with ease, its movement moving faster than even a rocket propelled grenade towards the horizon.
Letting it get a kilometer away, Archer summoned his black bow of nameless origin and summoned what looked like a rapier with an elegant cage-guard of gold and a crown-shaped pommel. Contorting the blade till the cage twisted in a serpentine spiral at its back and the blade becoming more of a corkscrew, he notched the back of the weapon's hilt and pulled back the string till it reached past his cheek. A breath in, a hissing exhale out, a breath in and then, he opened both eyes, letting loose the weapon in a blast of mana that blasted snow and air around him in a shock of force.
Illya watched with marveling awe as the rapier became a bolt of blue light, streaking across the sky and blowing past the gentle snowfall dotting the clouded vista of her homeland. As the discus began to dip ever-so slightly into the distance, the projectile arched in perfect accordance, smashing the skeet into powder before the weapon exploded in the distance. Shaking her head, she looked over at the confirmed Archer Servant and looked at him expectantly.
"That was a two kilometer shot. Is my range not satisfactory?" The Servant asked, knowing he could fire from a lot farther if beckoned.
"Shooting far is fine, but what about multiple targets?" She queried, her countenance gaining an innocence to it she hadn't displayed apart from her annoyingly immature punishments.
"I can fire up to a two dozen salvo indiscriminately at the same number of targets or converge all in one, be they standing still or moving at high speed," He boasted coolly, grinning as he wiped some snow on his red sleeved shoulder, still holding the bow with his other hand at his side. "Sniping is a special ability of mine, and I'd prefer I take enemies off guard or use the chaos my Master would set upon them as proper support."
"You're not going to freeze up on me like a dork, are you?" Illya questioned with a tilt of her head, an eye closed and a subdued huff of attitude.
Wryly grinning, he put his free hand on a hip and arched his own neck dubiously at her, "What's wrong? Scared that I might abandon my sweet, defenseless Master to the enemy?"
"I'm not scared of anything!" She snapped, her face puffed up and her eyes glaring humorously at him. "And you shouldn't ever leave me alone! You're my Servant, after all, so a Master should always be watched by their Servant! Do I need to place a Command Seal on you to make sure your thick head doesn't forget that?!"
"That should go without saying," He replied, feeling a bit more assured of himself that the threat was more idle this time. "It's my duty to fight, bleed and die for you. The last thing I'd ever do is abandon someone as precious as you; fate will have to go through me before anyone gets their hands on you."
For a moment, Illya's soured mood vanished and her eyes twinkled once again with a gleam that struck a chord in the Servant's core. Moisture accumulated in her eyes and her mouth was agape. He wasn't sure but she seemed to be...crying? Whatever the case was, she quickly blushed and wiped her eyes with a spare sleeve as she sniffed noisily before she spoke again.
"Idiot! What if someone catches you at close quarters and I'm nearby. How can you fire your arrows with a swordsman or a spearman coming after me?"
Her questions were educated and thoughtful, earning a measure of respect from EMIYA. It was true, in some situations, Archer Class Servants were especially weak against any other Heroic Spirit in a different designation. Technically even an Assassin could kill an Archer if they got the drop on them without an escape plan or means of fighting unarmed to compensate for the lack of a bow to use appropriately.
"In that case," He replied, dispersing the bow in an azure pulse of mana, waving both hands readily to the demure Magus. "Then I'd simply rely on my Magecraft to compensate."
"You're a Magus too?" She blinked owlishly, a hint of a smile working its way onto her face at the prospect. "Show me!"
"If you want me to, I can show you a few basic stances and the weapons I have. Unfortunately I don't have an adept sparring partner on hand to give you a taste of what I'm capable of," Archer replied with a flavorful sigh of faux disappointment.
Palming a fist, Illya's inner light bulb sparked and her eyes sparkled as a gleeful grin worked its way onto her face, "I see what you mean! Hey, how about you fight Leysritt?!"
"Excuse you?" Archer asked, almost in sync with Sella who stood not far away with the named Homunculus that stared blankly at them with a sense of curiosity. Looking between all three of them, he smiled with bemusement, shrugging his arms in dismissal. "Forgive me Master, but while I have confidence that your maids are capable attendants, I doubt they can stand up to a Heroic Spirit like myself."
"Oh? Is that a challenge?" Leysritt asked, earning a worried look from Sella.
"Go ahead," EMIYA raised a finger, curling it in a come hither gesture as he smiled with amusement at her. "Try and keep up."
Leysritt bent down, brushing some of the snow away and hefted up a giant halberd, intricate crimson markings etched onto the blade, spike and flat of the large weapon. A quick visual examination of the weapon told Archer that this was a strong weapon, exemplifying more toughness than sharpness; wagering that it can easily withstand trauma by Noble Phantasms sent her way. Holding it with both hands, she spun it around over her head, kicking up the snow and billowing around her vicinity in a twister of ice and wind, urging Sella to withdraw and set up a Bounded Field around herself and Illya.
Readying a hand into the air, he swept the space in front of him and used Projection, forming a glow light a little over a meter in length. Catching the weapon, it'd solidify into the smooth handled yin colored blade, Kanshou, catching it in a upright grip before he spun it around in a blur of metal. In an instant, he leaped forward, visibly disappearing from the air and reappearing behind Leysritt just over her head.
Twisting around in response, she struck his blade with the flat of her halberd, the shock of her swing causing EMIYA's arm to spasm and his body to be flung back from the tantamount strength she carried. Grinding across the ground, the Counter Guardian looked up with surprise, seeing she had barely moved from her posture; baiting him to attack her once again.
"She's surprisingly strong, for a Homunculus. I guess that's what I get for underestimating the quality of the Einzbern's artificial human creation," He concurred, standing upright and brushing some of the snow on his coat's shoulder. Grinning, he swept his other hand around, projecting Bakuya in his other hand. Bending his knees, he charged, moving in a red blur straight into Leysritt's frontal flank with a crash of both weapons against her pole handle. Seeing that he pushed her back with the force he implemented this time, he twisted his weapons around, slashing towards her face and lower side; only for her to spin her weapon in a clockwise fashion and deflect both swords.
Twisting about she landed a roundhouse kick into a blocking right arm, making his two blades fly up into the air out of his grip. Grinding his teeth as he felt his arm bruise from the boot's sole, he forced himself to a stop and watched her begin a hurtling spin towards him like a murderous top. Backpedaling, he raised his hands as the halberd drew nearer with the buckling vortex of air pressure, catching the weapons as they returned to his hand once again, crashing them against her blade in a deflecting burst of force.
"You're not bad," Archer remarked with a wry grin, his two blades sparking in their catch of the halberd's broad ax edge; part of which dug into his two swords nearly halfway. "A Homunculus with this caliber of strength should be commended."
"Of course, I am after all a servant of Illyasviel Von Einzbern," She replied stoically in her doll-like placid manner. Pulling back in a grinding twist, she rend his weapons from his grip and shattered their remains in a single flurry. Rearing back, she thrust the pike's edge to stab Archer through the chest, replying aloud with confidence. "If this level is too much for you, then you're not worthy of being her Servant."
A flash of mana, an incomprehensible sound coming from his mouth and suddenly a new Kanshou parried the pike of the weapon away, allowing the Servant to slide up close and hold a reformed Bakuya to her neck. While her eyes flashed wide with surprise, she didn't emote anything else. Casting a glance at the smashed remains in her periphery, she saw the pair of swords vanished into the snow-laden wind, allowing her to deduce what had happened.
"Your Magecraft is Projection. Impressive to see a Conjurer have this adept level of reflexes and strength, let alone retain the Archer Class," She remarked evenly.
"I'm a man of many talents, and some are left best to be seen for yourself," He winked at the artificial human, withdrawing his weapons and dispersing them back into floating dust of mana. "I trust that little demonstration satisfies you."
"For now," Leysritt answered in her usual monotone, erecting the weapon and turning to look at Illya with Archer. "Is that good enough?"
"Sure! You can go back to your duties, Leysritt!" She replied cheerfully, looking to Sella and nodding to her. Watching the handmaiden nullify the Bounded Field, she hummed as she skipped over to her Servant while Leysritt passed her by and walked back with her other caretaker back into Castle Einzbern. Spinning around, Illya looked up with a beaming grin, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm that made the Servant's heart warm at seeing. "That was great! Leysritt is really strong, and you were so fast! Those are cool swords you have! And was that swift incantation?!"
"Oh, you noticed that?" He asked pointedly, placing a hand behind his head as he scratched his scalp nervously. "Here I thought I was careful. Guess nothing gets past my Master, after all."
"Mhm, I am a top of the line Master!" Illya cocked her chin up, posturing proudly with hands her hips and a close-eyed broad smile on her face. "You'll not find a better Magus in this Grail War, that's for sure! Ho-Ho-Ho!"
"That's for sure," He admitted with a sheepish chuckle, inwardly kicking himself for speaking such a way when he knew an excellent Mage would could be a superb candidate as his Master. Still, he knew as far as power and skill went, Illya had no second in this upcoming conflict; he just need to ensure that she could put that strength of hers to the test.
Taking another furrowed glance, Illya took a step and angled her head up at Archer. Walking around in a circle about the man, he arched a brow as he looked back at her, over his shoulder as she circled him. When she finished with a stomping twirl, she crossed her arms behind her back and looked up blankly at him. It was unnerving this new change in mood, but he figured this must have been slightly related to the topic of testing him.
"I'm sure that you don't like the idea of waiting three days for me to reveal my identity to you, Master," EMIYA guessed, earning a glint of brief surprise that turned into a hardened glare of affirmation. Sighing, the Counter Guardian scratched his cheek and looked towards the forest nearby; for some reason, it looked like a pleasant place and was peaceful, an instinct that had compelled him not to mark it during his demonstration. Smiling, he knelt down before her, bringing his gaze to be eye level with her petite height. "How about I tell you what I know about myself while we take a walk down the path by those trees over there?"
Illya looked over at the trees and instantly the Heroic Spirit felt a pit form in his stomach. The pale-faced girl's eyes dilated, her mouth parted and her countenance changed into one of somber sorrow. He couldn't fathom what memories stirred within her mind, or the past she had. Was it part of what happened with Kiritsugu Emiya's relationship with the Einzbern Family?
"Sorry," The Servant apologized, standing up and walking past her towards the snow-covered path to the castle. "We should talk inside anyways. It's quite cold out here-"
He felt himself halted by a tug on his right arm's sleeve. His face construed into shock as he looked down to see a hidden expression on Illya's face, turned away from him, but a finger and thumb clenched at his jacket's fabric faintly. Keeping still, he didn't say anything, just letting her hold onto the sleeve as the snow gently fell onto their clothes and his uncovered hair.
"I don't mind," She faintly spoke, her face turned away, as if to hide her fear and anguish that she had masked thus far. "B-But I'd prefer if you carried me. On your shoulders."
Smiling ruefully, he knew this was the first time she issued out a request instead of a command. This was a special subject, as this part of her home brought sensitive memories of her own; something they both seemed to have in common.
Bending down, he lifted her up without saying a word, earning a crying gasp before she was fully hefted up. Looking up, his wry smile still intact, he'd see the awestruck look on her face turned to one of childish wonderment. Tears formed in her eyes, sliding down her cheeks as she beamed gladly. He felt his head grasped -almost painfully- by her small hands, not bothering to wipe away the excess moisture sliding warmly down her face.
Walking down the path, Archer gave a slight periphery glance as the handmaidens watched his movement with his Master saddled on his shoulders. He couldn't read Leysritt's expression, but he could see a mixed reaction from Sella, the mentor figure of the pair. Dispersing their watching of him from his mind, he relaxed and let the sound of his boots crunch lightly on the snow. Looking around, he'd see the type of trees were an exotic type, specially planted for this courtyard of the Einzbern Castle; hints of blossoms beginning to form in this light season of the ever-present winter hold on this area of the country.
"So, how old are you?" Illya first asked, almost making Archer stumble in his walk at such an odd query.
"Uh, I don't know how relevant that is, Master. I'm very dead by this point, barring the Grail's manifestation of this form-"
"No-No-No," Illya wagged a finger, now back to her chastising self as she looked around his crown at the left side of his face, his eye glancing back at her red eyes gleaming with intrigue and mischief. "I mean, how old do you think you are as of this moment?"
"Tch, I'd say I'm in my late thirties, give or take," Archer replied with a click of his tongue, closing his other eye while the other just stared at her dubiously. "I've forgotten such a detail long ago, so forgive me if it isn't to the letter of accuracy."
"Fiiiiiiiine~," She drawled out, looking over at a nearby Walnut Blossom, bringing a nostalgic glitter to her eyes and a slight smile before she shook her head back to the present. "Ok, why do you shoot swords from a bow? You seem like an OK swordsman, so it seems like an odd thing to be both an archer and a melee fighter."
"Ha! It's because I can catch my enemies off guard if they think getting up close makes me helpless," He replied with gusto, looking ahead as he answered her in a way that was truthful and fanciful. "Imagine most Archer Class Servants being drawn up close or stuck in a boxed in environment. How likely will their supplementary abilities enable them to escape or fight evenly with someone like a Berserker or a Saber? I may excel at long-range combat, but I've made sure to master the blade so I can also match steel with the best of melee specialists.
"As for why I use swords for arrows, which isn't always, is so I can modify an effect akin to a Noble Phantasm," He further explained, drawing Illya into a wide-eyed look of awe and interest; only briefly looking back to check if he was doing a good job explaining. "See, my Magecraft is Conjuration, and with it I can make faux weapons that copy the effect of other Heroic Spirits' Noble Phantasms. It's my special ability."
"That makes sense, sorta," Illya replied, scrunching her face up as she tried to fathom what he was saying in the latter half of his answer to her question. "So, you say you make fake phantasms. Can you make any one of them at full strength?"
"Unfortunately, I don't have the capacity of using True Magic, so my replication will always be inferior to the original," He confessed, though not allowing himself to dwell on it for fear of disappointing his small Master. "However, I make up for it by adding Reinforcement to it and, for additional bonus, craft what is called a Broken Phantasm."
"Broken Phantasm?" She asked, almost with a knowing expression.
"Yes, it sounds like you have an inkling of what I'm saying," He reaffirmed with a nod, turning his head to look at hers. "Any Heroic Spirit has the capacity of overcharging their own legendary weapons or abilities to the point of 'breaking' them, hence the name. Because I'm creating a false Noble Phantasm, I can initialize a Broken Phantasm effect that turns it into a volatile blast that dramatically raises its destructive ability. And since I'm an Archer-"
"You can keep using them without worrying of running out of arrows!" Illya finished with excitement, grasping onto his words -and his scalp, much to his chagrin- as she figured out what he was getting at.
"Correct, Master," Archer replied with a wincing chuckle. "Naturally, I rather fire those kinds of projectiles from a distance and make sure you're not close to its blast radius. However, if its simply a blade in my hand, I shouldn't run the same risk, but it does burn up mana regardless. Plus there's usually a time to trigger such a use, so anyone up close will make things difficult for me to rely on such a tactic repeatedly without an enemy seeing through it."
Nodding her head, she understood what he was saying, processing the information for later practice and implementation in future strategies. Unlike other Classes she saw that the Archer Servant was best used through planning and innovative craftiness in outmaneuvering more brute strength and one-note enemies. It was a dexterous Class, trading out sheer power for a plethora of means of taking down an enemy without doing a linear line of attack.
However, something bothered her. Apart from the lack of a name to properly identify him, there was something his explanations that negated to reveal something personal to not just incarnation as a Heroic Spirit, but the embodiment of what he was. Her eyes narrowed, her tongue licking her slightly chapped lips as she pondered how to ask this question. Releasing her hold on his hair, she moved it down to his hands, surprising the Servant as she squeezed them as she asked what she knew was probably an intimate question.
"Archer, do you have a Noble Phantasm of your own?" She began to ask, feeling him stop moving in the middle of the snow-covered trees surrounding them on either side. "If you don't, I won't complain. But, judging by that reaction, it sounds like you do. Can you show me?"
"Are you sure you want that, Master?" He asked, his voice sounding quiet and grated in its tone. It was the question he knew that would be asked one way or another. He wished personally that he could avoid it entirely, but a Master with such impressive array of Command Seals combined with his own attachment with her, it was next to impossible to deny such a order. But, like earlier, this was a request and was a departure from her usual bossy nature that made him halt entirely.
But when she said, "I do," he inhaled, and let loose a heavy sigh.
"I Am The Bone Of My Sword."
As he began to chant, a blue flame emerged all around the snow covered grounds, engulfing the trees and frost covered soil in the burning tongues of the ether. Nothing melted and nothing caught aflame in the traditional sense, but the potency of the mana being exuded drew misty exhales from Illya, her eyes wide and her face looking around as she felt the magic ripen all around her. The prana being emitted made her spine tingle and her gut prick at the sense of dread that was being brought forth into the physical world.
"Steel Is My Body And Fire Is My Blood."
"I Have Created Over A Thousand Blades."
"Unknown To Death, Nor Known To Life."
"Have Withstood Pain To Create Infinite Weapons."
"Yet These Hands Will Not Hold Anything."
"So As I Pray, Unlimited Blade Works!"
The world bent and warped, a flash of light overwhelmed Illya's vision as a ring of fire spread from the Servant's outward, seemingly eradicating everything around him in a single motion. She felt dizzy, her insides felt nauseous and the air felt hot. Grimacing as the flare subsided, she winced her eyes open and then, she saw the change to the environment; no, not a change, but a transformation itself!
Surrounded by a hill-adorned field of sand, swords, spears, axes and more were impaled into the ground in the thousands. Too many to count, they lingered on into the horizon, emblazoned with fire with a sky covered in clouds that crackled with blood tinted lightning. Even more imposing, if not foreboding, was the enormous gears and cogs, all moving in synchronization with echoing churns of metal on metal, forever moving in an infinite motion that churned its machine parts in this conceptual world.
"A Reality Marble," She gasped, her senses picking up every facet of the horizon and the immediate surroundings.
"That's right," He answered her, somberly as he fixed his sight on this world of his. "This is my power as a Heroic Spirit. It's the only thing I possess that I can call my own, and it embodies me completely."
Gripping his hands tightly, Illyasviel softly spoke back, "It looks lonely. Did you die alone, Archer?"
"Yes," He croaked out, shutting his eyes tightly, the loud sound of clanking gears filling his mind and visions of his existence flooded to his foresight. Blood in abundance, shed by his hands. His own death, betrayed by the hands he sought to save. Wars ended, wars prevented and wars provided all for the sake of justice. Even as the despair clawed at his mind, he forced it away, putting him back into the present, stonily asking the girl sitting on his shoulders. "Does this satisfy you, Master? Is this Nameless Servant's Noble Phantasm worthy for you?"
"I think it's exactly what I need," She replied, her own voice quiet and thoughtful, showing maturity only possibly obtained after the Hell of an existence she had in the past ten years. The isolation, the knowledge she was born only for a singular purpose, one that'd satisfy the Einzbern Family. Abandoned, forgotten and ignored, she was only a tool and was only provided with the means of achieving victory for the sake of satisfying that goal; a goal of dead men that used her life in exchange.
After soaking in the atmosphere a bit longer, Archer dismissed the artificial world, revealing the place they once were standing was completely unaffected by the supernatural phenomena. As they walked away, Illya began to hum a tune, a song that Archer didn't know but could follow its melody quite adequately. As she hummed, he felt himself relax and smile halfway, joining her own innocent grin as they walked back up the castle stairs through the front entrance.
It only took a week for Archer to get fully acquainted with his Master and her two servants. Finding a relatively consistent schedule -helped by Stella's rigorous discipline she hammered into the young Lord of the Castle- he found that Leysritt made a good sparring partner while changing up melee practice to shooting at a variety of ranged targets, changing it up in pattern and distance so Illya could formulate more strategies once they leave for their castle in Fuyuki.
After using a privately owned plane, the handmaidens and Servant accompanied Illyasviel to her estate set in view of the nostalgic town; for different reasons for either Master and Servant. Through multiple realities, Archer has seen various outcomes and experienced them firsthand in often grisly degree. Through this and the preemptive knowledge of the Grail, he was given perfect clarity of everything of the town, down to its layout and the people that lived within it. This was knowledge he ensured to log away and use at his discretion when applicable for the war to come.
The Fuyuki Einzbern Castle was just about as spacious and regal as the last. While it needed a bit of tidying up -something he was ordered to do with the handmaidens, much to his chagrin- it was still in relatively pristine condition since the previous war a decade prior. The grounds were layered with booby traps of old and now newer nature, thanks to Sella and Illya's efforts, making it that much harder to enter undetected let alone unscathed without knowing the path to leave properly.
Departing into the city, Illya acted surprisingly carefree as Archer disguised himself in mana form, ghosting near her as she maneuvered around the city.
"You sure you put enough traps, Master?" Archer inquired, having busied himself most of the day during the familiarizing of the Fuyuki Estate owned by the Einzbern Family. Above having a strategically isolated stronghold with beautiful architecture and Bounded Fields to reinforce it from sniping, artillery and other more mystical attacks she had busied herself refurbishing existing traps left awry in the prior decade of idling and set up new ones. The sheer number she and Sella laid was...absurd.
"If I had more time, I could make more than what I have, but I'll settle with the seven hundred and fifty one that I have now," Illyasviel replied, keeping her words telepathic as to not alert passer biers or potential familiars of masters that have settled in this playground of the Grail. Walking down the street, the white haired girl took a tour of Fuyuki's shopping district, maintaining a positive air while observing everything around her and taking in the bustling atmosphere. At night, the city would be relatively barren in the outer ring of suburban housing and other warehouse districts with only downtown having an amicable drive of traffic moving.
But she wasn't looking just at the town itself. No, she was here for a specific purpose and she was looking for a specific person. Humming idly as she hopped and skipped across the sidewalk and crossed streets, she eventually came upon a particular set of ritzy looking living places that was inserted into the suburban living area. One of which was the Tohsaka Mansion, which she could feel her Servant breathing down her neck about how risky it was being so close to somebody of adept perception and skill as a Magus. Down the road was the Matou Mansion, which gave the girl an unnerving feeling as the sound of bugs chirping -even in the mid-afternoon- unsettled her. Lastly was the alleged Emiya Manor, which was stylized out of a feudal aged mansion mostly comprised out of wood and paper.
Tracing her fingers along its wooden surface, she grinned to herself, a glimmer of crimson emanating from her eyes.
"I've found you, Big Brother," She whispered, giving EMIYA an extreme amount of discomfort for how she phrased her word choice. "It's time you find that you can't escape me like father did."
Turning her head around, she saw in the distance the certain red-head coming down the street with a book bag slung over his shoulder. Smiling, she skipped ahead till she conveniently found a crack in the road in front of the Emiya mansion. Stepping into it, she let herself fall onto her face, crying out as she did so. Archer balked, not sure what came over her until the sight of Shirou Emiya rushing to her sprawled form made him recoil in horror.
"Hey! Are you alright?!" Shirou asked, his eyes widened with alarm and his hands placed delicately on Illya's shoulders.
"Owwwwwwwwwww," She moaned, pushing herself up with effort, revealing a cut that formed over her forehead, bleeding over her face in a hilarious exaggeration to how much it hurt her part-homunculus body. "I'm...dizzy...why are there so...many of you?"
"Oh shit!" Shirou swore, finding the white hair girl lurch forward into his arms, visibly showing signs she fell unconscious. Nervously, he picked her up and dropped the bag right outside the mansion. Picking her up in a bridal fashion, he finagled the gate before hurrying her inside. Crossing the grounds, Illya snuck a peek at the surroundings: a serene tile-roofed set of buildings with a calm old-style japanese pond garden and paths circling around trees and fields of well trimmed grass. As he brought her to the main house, he immediately frantically pulled open the paper doors and got her to the guest room, laying her down gently, laying her prostrate over the mattress. "Alright, you ok?"
"Nnngh," She groaned, restlessly moving on the bed. "It hurts! Owwwwwww!"
"Geez, let me get the first aid kit," He replied, walking away to find something to salve her injury and provide covering. As he left her, Illya smiled to herself at how easy it was to fool the adopted son of Kiritsugu. Even though she had researched preemptively about the details of her estranged parent, especially how he acquired a new child to replace her, she had no idea just how much of a positive force he'd be to immediately worry about the well-being of a clumsy stranger who fell in front of his home.
Once he returned, he delicately washed and absorbed the blood on her face and head, noticing the bump with the cut was more shallow than he thought. Shaking his head, he began applying medicine, making Illya groan -albeit with exaggerative flair- that he winced at trying to help her while she squirmed. Wrapping the bandage around her head in a snug fit, he sighed, taking a few moments to observe her lying form. Her purple coat and the fur-adorned hat looked foreign, yet she had an air of familiarity he couldn't quite pin down for some reason; apart from the dirt of her fall, she looked regally dressed, so why was she in front of his home?
Feeling his gaze look at her face a bit hard, Illyasviel did her best not to show any sign of being aware of his sight. As he got up to leave, she ruefully smirked at his trust in this stranger he took in. Opening her eyes she let her scarlet rings observe every facet of this room, giving her the impression this would be a place she'd stay if she were to live here. It was a cozy place that was easily the size of most comfortable living spaces spread around Fuyuki's suburban areas, with blue-white walls and ceiling, bookshelves and other cabinets with a smooth flooring. With a window that let in the setting Sun's light in, she felt almost safe in such a place.
Then, she felt Archer's voice ping in her head in a rude way, "Master, what in the Hell are you doing here?"
"Fulfilling my ulterior agenda," She replied with a thin smile, her eyes staring up at the ceiling as she folded her hands on her coat-covered waist. "While I may be fighting in this war, I wanted to have a little fun distracting myself before the festivities truly begin. After all, I'm not content in just acquiring the holy chalice, but also resolve an old part of my past needing closure."
"With all due respect, Master, I think this is a hazard to our plans," He replied, unseen but left a tone in her head akin to a grimacing glare. "That boy is going to be the death of you if you let odd people distract you. What does he even mean to someone like you?"
"He's my father's son," She replied, making EMIYA contort invisibly with shame and regret. With a retraction of her smile to one of a blank, cold stare at the ceiling, she continued. "I'm going to give him a taste of the same despair when the comfort and happiness he feels here is torn away by horrors he couldn't comprehend. Once I'm satisfied, then I'll leave him broken and unable to go on living as he is. I haven't decided his fate just yet, but fate made this reunion possible so why not dwell just a bit in the illusion of our bond just a bit?"
"If you want to spend your time torturing this man, I won't argue, but just know that this boy will more than likely put a stick into the cog of our plans," Archer warned her, before once again whisking himself out of potential awareness of the undercover mage that Shirou Emiya is.
The sounds of other people entering the home drifted into guest room's space. A faint, quieter voice spoke pleasantly as a crescendo of kitchen utensils and items were being worked upon by more than one person. Vague conversations were made and Illya got a distinct feeling it was a personal conversation. Without making a sound, she yanked a thread of her hair and shaped it with her prana, animating it into a silver-white effigy of a spider about as big as her hand. Tossing it up into the ceiling, the mana fed string led its near invisible familiar so it could crawl along the ceiling of the room and stealth its way into the opposing hallway; closing her eyes, she'd link her senses with it, allowing her to pick up the dim hallway and the brightly lit kitchen and living room area.
A beautiful girl of violet hair and amethyst eyes had an apron adorned around her school uniform, her coat already hung up on a hangar near the entryway to the exit door of deep purple along with her outdoor black shoes. She looked like any other plain girl had it not been for the faint traces of prana ebbing from her that the homunculus girl could see through her spider-construct. It was similar in hue to Shirou, being it either out of inefficiency or suppression, so she couldn't get a read if she was a strong Magus or not.
However, the conversations being had made her grin with devious mischief.
"I noticed the blood on the outside of the mansion," Sakura finally broke the ice, making Shirou grimace at the memory of such a grisly sight. Looking over with a cagey expression, she got a troubled look on the red-haired man, making her ease up and look at him with concern. "What happened? That wasn't you-?"
"No, it wasn't me, Sakura!" He exclaimed, chuckling a bit bashfully as if knowing full well it wasn't out of the question to think that. "It was this...strange girl that hit her head in front of my place."
"Girl?" She asked, her eyes going cold and her bangs lowering to hide her thoughts. "What did she want?"
"I don't know, she hit her head pretty bad and she looked lost," Shirou answered nonplussed, gesturing with his head towards the dark hallway he hadn't bothered illuminating with lights just yet. "She's really small though. I can't say she's close to my age, but maybe that's just her genetics?"
Almost as if breathing a sigh of relief, Sakura inquired more innocently as she helped prepare dinner with knife in hand, "Is she a foreigner?"
"How did you-" Shirou stopped himself, causing the meek girl to laugh at that. Blushing himself, he shook his head and added sauce to the meal ready to be stewed. "Yeah, she's got like this odd white hair like snow and I think she had red eyes. She might be an albino or something. And she was wearing this thick purple fur coat."
"Sounds like something that came out of a fairy tale book," Sakura teased with a small smile, fixing her hair as she shuffled the vegetables with the cutlery.
"I don't know what compelled her to be in my neighborhood, though. We may live close due to our unique living arrangements but we're not exactly on a common suburban street," He mentioned, his voice quieting a little as he looked back at the hallway again, his face becoming a bit more contemplative. "I can't help but feel she's important to me, but I know I've never seen her before."
Before he could ponder aloud any further, the sound of the door slamming open followed a rambunctious noise of a brown haired woman stumbling in. Undoing her puffy jacket, the landlady and unofficial guardian of the house, something Illya instinctively identified by how she invited herself in so rudely and presumptuously. The conversation wasn't as interesting as before, and she only got to know so much before she grew bored. Recalling her familiar for later use, she pulled the covers up and tried to enter something akin to sleep.
As her eyes closed, darkness came over her consciousness and a cold chilling wave swept over her. A haunting echo permeated her being, like a drop of liquid falling into a basin of immeasurable quantity. The dripping continued, and her being felt like tremors flowed outward, her eyes adjusting to the dark as she realized the dripping came from above. A halo of ethereal flame wrapped around a sphere of endless darkness, dripping blood over an ocean of metallic smelling essence; one of which presided within her open chest with the outline of a golden cup siphoning the liquid she lied weightlessly in.
Eyes opened with a start, with sweat accumulating across her skin, she realized that sleep may not be the best thing to do in a stranger's home; not just yet.
Still, she heard the sounds outside of animated discussion involving the three people occupying the house. Part of her wanted to sneak outside and avoid contact, wanting Shirou Emiya to speak to her alone so she'd avoid scrutiny. That way, she would have an untainted image of herself that couldn't be argued or dissected by those familiar in his immediate vicinity. But on the other hand, the benefits of selling her narrative to all three proved too beneficial to simply ignore.
Exiting the room, she quietly stepped out and entered the dark hallway, emerging around the corner to peer into the floor-level table of the dining room. Shirou sat on the far side, his back facing the kitchen while Sakura had her back in her direction. The unidentified woman of brown hair sat on the floor opposing Shirou, enthusiastically talking with bravado and cheer, almost to the point of annoying the white-haired girl. With a deep inhale, she entered the room with a rehearsed mask of pitiable shyness, drawing Shirou and the older woman's attention right away; with Sakura blinking a few times before looking over at the coat-adorned girl with surprise.
"Oh, hello there!" The adult woman spoke with a cheery grin, making the red-haired man flush a bit at her unabashed tone as she waved her in. "Come on, sit with us! I've been dying to know more about you!"
"I-I'm sorry for intruding," Illya pitifully exclaimed, her voice quiet and her eyes looking down apologetically as she remained in place. "I-It was my own fault that I was so c-clumsy. P-Please, I just want to apologize and be on my w-way-"
"Nonsense!" The older woman insisted, standing upright far more quickly than the guest thought possible and sliding over to her side. Hands on her shoulders, she gently ushered her over to where she was sitting, scooting around to the free space of the low-table and began scooping up more helpings of the lukewarm food onto her old plate. "Please, dig in! I've already eaten and you must be starving, being cooped up in that bed for so long."
It only just occurred to Illya that she may have been in the bedroom for a longer period of time than she conceived. Was she so lost in thought or did her nightmare take up the span of time she didn't account for? Dispelling the eerie feeling of being so spacey, she inhaled the food and felt her mouth water, her stomach rumbling loudly much to her shock. Feeling warmth flood her cheeks, she looked around, sincerely meek enough to see if it was alright.
"Go ahead," Shirou urged, his smile now present and Sakura enamored by the girl's innocence and sheer presence in their midst remained silent. "I made it myself."
Picking up her utensils, the white-haired and ruby-eyed girl began to take some of the fresh smelling food. Getting clumps of meat along the noodles, she placed it delicately in her mouth with a cute chomping motion. The moment it hit her taste buds she felt her brain buzz and her whole face warm up with delight. Eyes watered up as she swished the food in her mouth, slurping it up noisily before swallowing with great effort. Smiling sincerely, she didn't pay any mind to the tears ebbing from her eyes down her cheeks, pulling on Taiga's heartstrings, making Shirou smile softly and Sakura smiled in addition.
"Good?"
"It's fantastic!" She gleefully proclaimed, digging in to chomp on more and more helpings. The older woman couldn't help herself as she began to dish more up into Illya's plate, fascinated just how much she could wolf down. Shirou chuckled at the proceeding with Sakura, finding her childish devouring of the food so out of character for most people he's seen in Fuyuki. Either this girl didn't know a lick of proper food etiquette or she's gone too long without eating to care acting dignified.
After eating for awhile, the group finally broke the ice after a few meaningful glances were exchanged. Taiga tapped a fork against her own plate, she got the sight of the plate slurping Illya finally set it down, face covered in sauce and broth. Giggling, the older woman reached out with a napkin and began wiping her face, making Illya glare in a pouting manner, "So, other than being a messy eater, what brought you to our neck of the woods, so-to-speak?"
Illya paused, looking a bit thoughtfully at the other two, specifically fixating on Shirou. Watching the red-haired man squirm made her grin insidiously on the inside, outward keeping a stoic mask of contemplation. When she finally spoke aloud, her words ebbed in a manufactured way that would fool the likes of such trusting individuals, "I'm here because I have nowhere else to go."
"Wait, so you're homeless?!" Shirou asked, almost startled with a blanching expression that made Sakura look concerned between him and the stranger sitting across the table.
"In a way," She admitted, looking down with an expression of forlorn that didn't compare to the emotions that Archer saw over a week ago at Castle Einzbern. "You see, I lived with my mother in a country far away from here. But, not more than ten years ago, I lost her in a terrible conflict. I've been kept safe, educated and fed for while my family's fortune guarded me but I've run out of options. I'm without a place to call my own and no one to look after me, so I went to the last place my mother had said to be before she passed away."
A mixture of expressions reflected the words she allowed them to hear. She was inwardly pleased how the caretaker and Shirou looked, like ripples of water sadness and empathy shifted across their faces as they were emulated through slight twists of their mouths, dilation and contractions of their eyes. Sakura looked, for a moment, like she was looking straight through her -her spine tingled at this- before she shared a worried expression with Shirou. Overall this story shared was enough to garner the emotions she was seeking, with the older woman placing a hand on her shoulder with concern radiating from her.
"I-I'm so sorry. You must be so nervous being in a place without any way of providing for yourself," She tried to comfort her, something that seemed alien to the cold exterior of Illya's heart.
"T-Thank you," She replied with a hiccup, holding a hand up to her face as she stifled dramatic sniffles and tears that potentially could burst from her eyes at any moment. "I-I a-apoligize for the inconven-nience. I'll leave first thing in the morning. I-I'm sure I can find a nice dark spot in town to sleep in-"
"Hey, don't go and do that!" Shirou exclaimed faster than he could process Illya's words. This all seemed too horrible and fantastic all at once. The strange girl who appeared in his life, a mother who had come here to his adopted father's home around the time before he lived in this place. It felt too jarring to be coincidence and the gut feeling manipulated by the girl's plight urged him to speak out of turn, despite his position. "I'm sure we can spare the guest bedroom for a while. I don't know how permanent it can be, but I think we can spare some meals and clothes for you to wear until we figure something out."
"That's presumptuous but sweet of you, Shirou," The older woman replied, now patting Illya's head -much to her chagrin- as she ruffled the head of white thoughtfully as she raised a finger to her lips. "I mean, if it's only for a short while, I'm sure it can be fine but we'll have to figure out what she should do in the long term. I'll be sure to think of something, so don't lump your busy schedule with extra responsibilities," She turned her face, avoiding the look of grimace forming on the red-headed boy's face at saying such untrue things, knowing full well she'd hand over care taking to him despite her bravado. Looking Illya in the eyes, she grinned and said quietly. "My name is Taiga Fujimura, relation to the landlord of this place and kind of part of this odd family. The industrious dork over there is Shirou Emiya and that sweet shy one is Sakura Matou."
Looking to the others, she saw the aforementioned girl and realized she was a relation to the one of the founding families of the Fuyuki Holy Grail Wars. Her expression seemed a bit off, as if she was hiding something as she smiled slightly at her in a cordial manner. Shirou however was plain as day, with sleeve-worn feelings that gave him that obligated empathy she began to see as almost theatrical. Putting up a polite smile of her own, she bowed before them, flashing her ruby eyes and pearly teeth at them as she drank in the acceptance as part of her desired outcome.
"My name is Illya," She introduced herself, looking to all three of them as her Servant watched from a distance with a troubled expression. "Thank you for your hospitality. I promise to repay you all someday."
A/N: Okay, so this is a little experiment of mine that I decided on a whim. Based on a bout of perpetual laziness of my friend who kept talking about how he wanted to put to pen a story in which Illya is the Main character (while also being the Master of Archer) who'd get a genuine outcome/route for her to follow instead of, well, any of the other chosen characters. Until the madman Nasu himself writes and publishes a route based on the "Actually 18 Years Old" Tiny Murder Machine, this is my attempt to solicit this story as an actual fulfillment of that friend's wish. So far, from what I've showed him, he likes it and I like what I've written; just hope a larger audience appreciates it, for some reason or another.
While I may switch POV from different characters (As Most Routes tend to do) Illya/Archer are the main characters, with Shirou being kinda the tag-along and eventual Main Character as well. Given this is Fate, some events will be occurring naturally and some will be drastically different. Since Rin is not the Master of EMIYA, she will have another Servant instead. I won't say who the other Masters and Servants are but the story will reveal them as the story unfolds. Until then, please comment in the Review section with critiques, criticisms or thoughts on the story on a whole or possibilities you'd like to see or opinions on how to improve the story.
This won't be always a consistently updated story so keep that in mind. It'll come up whenever it does. Until then, I'll see you in the next update!