Well, after countless attempts at rebooting this story, and either not having the time to dedicate to it, losing interest, falling into one of the darkest points of my life I have ever experienced, or even having my laptop die on me (that's a fun story), I decided to give this one another go. I apologize for any followers of the previous version of this story that I let down, and I hope to make it up to you with this. Here goes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fate/stay Night or Bleach. All rights to both of those series belong to their respective owners and whatever affiliates they may have between them. This is a purely fan-based piece of fiction, and I am in no way shape or form attempting to make profit off of this work.

Requiem of Fate

Chapter One: Amaranth

By: Kapskaen

'The first thing,' she thought to herself bitterly, 'the absolute first thing that is going to kill me won't be a damn magi. It's going to be all of this damn waiting.'

Sighing to herself, she began idly tracing the hilt of the sword resting across her lap, her eyes flickering across the room towards her only companion, fighting the urge to shiver as a sudden flow of wind gusted through the drafty house.

'If one can even call this dump a house... I wonder, if I do lose it, who would I lose it on?' She cut her eyes at the beautiful blonde that sat at the window, her steely gaze locked on the dim view the moonlight gave her almost unblinkingly. She was idly amused at the rigid posture of the petite woman, who could have been completely mistaken for an oddly-placed statue if not for the otherworldly vitality that her very presence seemed to ooze.

Turning back to her thoughts, she wondered, 'Nah, Ari-nee would trounce me with her eyes closed... So I guess she's safe. And I haven't seen another person in weeks, other than the magi that ambushed us...' Her eyes widened in horror. 'Oh, my God! I wouldn't even be able to lose my mind properly!'

Cutting her eyes to the affectionately dubbed 'Ari-nee' once again, she noticed that the woman was glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, an elegant eyebrow quirked questioningly.

"A-ah, sorry, sorry. Did you say something?"

The older woman seemed to sigh ('How the hell does someone make even sighing look graceful?!'), and softly asked, "Are you well, Lyah?"

Feeling heat rise to her face at being caught daydreaming, she stammered, "O-of course! I-I mean, it's a little cold, so if we could get a fire started soon, that would be fantastic..."

'Ari-nee' turned her gaze back towards the window, a slight downward tug of the corners of her mouth the only sign of a reaction on her otherwise impassive face. "I do not believe that to be wise. Dawn will be breaking in a matter of hours – we will be able to move again once it does, and I do not trust this unfamiliar area. There could be more enemies than we know out there." She turned her head slightly towards Lyah once again, this time with a slight grin on her face. "Or was it not you who said that you were not, and I quote, some 'snot-nosed brat who couldn't tough it out in the wilderness?'"

Feeling the heat in her cheeks intensify, Lyah cut her gaze from the smirking woman. "You know what? I don't need a fire, I'm just going to go to sleep. You're not fun company anyway."

A short, regal laugh came from the woman's direction, followed shortly by a lilting, "As you say," and silence once again fell across the shoddy room like a blanket. Soon enough, though, Lyah began to squirm, not being able to find a comfortable position on the ratty rug that she reclined on.

She shot another glance at Ari-nee, this one laced with a glare in case the older woman caught her sneaking a peek, and shifted once again with a huff.

"I thought you were going to go to sleep. Exhaustion is the enemy as well, Lyah." With that excuse to engage the conversation once again, she shot upwards, pointing at Ari-nee, and stated, "Shut up! I'm trying, but it's so uncomfortable here! This is your fault, Ari-nee, and you should take responsibility!"

This time, the woman turned to face her fully, the frown evident on her face. "That name was endearing when you were four, Lyah, but you are a grown woman now. I would appreciate it if you would call me by my real name."

"No! Stupid Ari-nee!"

"My name is Art-," she cut herself off midway as a mildly surprised look dawned across her face, and inexplicably began to laugh softly. Lyah began to puff up with indignation, thinking that she was somehow making fun of her, before the woman raised her hand to stay her wrath.

"Peace, child, peace. I was not laughing at you. You merely reminded me of your parentage so much that I could not help myself."

Lyah's building wrath stopped suddenly, a twinge of pain worming its way into her chest. Her parents. In the rush of things, she had forgotten... She had never met her father, who was a Servant in the Grail War some twenty-odd years ago, and though it obviously pained her to speak of him, her mother had vehemently told her the he was the 'biggest boneheaded fool, nothing more than brawn and a smart mouth, an unrepentant villain who preyed on the hearts of poor young maidens,' followed quickly by a very quiet, "He was the most wonderful man I had ever met."

She screwed her eyes shut against the sudden surge of pain and regret as she thought of her mother. When the Clock Tower bombarded her home, they had all lost each other in the resulting chaos. Only Ari-nee had found her, cornered by a near battalion of Enforcers, and helped her flee, saying, "Your mother asked me to keep you safe," when questioned.

That had been nearly four months ago.

"...Hey, Ari-nee. D'you- D'you think that they made it out okay? My mother, and Shirou-san?" She immediately regretted the flash of pain that sparked in the woman's eyes for the briefest of seconds and was gone with her reply of, "I know they did. Your mother is the smartest human I have ever had the privilege of knowing. She had known that the Mage's Association was going to move against the rest of the world months before anyone else. We spent years preparing, all of us, but they caught us at the one moment in time that we were not expecting them to. And my Shirou... Well, that man has always been too stubborn to die."

"Why haven't we come across them? We've hit every safehouse from Fuyuki to Hokkaido in these past months and we haven't heard a word from them – not even a rumored sighting!"

Ari-nee frowned slightly, pondering, before her eyes widened in slight shock. "I... I think that I may know why, and if my guess is correct, then we will be seeing them very, very soon." Lyah blinked, before feeling vaguely irritated at the vagueness of her 'big sister.' "What's that supposed to mean? What's so important that she can't even tell her own daughter that she's alive?!"

Ari-nee bit her lip, looking as reluctant to talk as the serene woman could manage to look, and brought the knuckle of her index finger to her mouth, as if to physically stop herself from talking. "I believe that I have said too much."

Lyah lunged forward, crawling across the floor until she was looking the older woman in the face. "If you know something, please, tell me. Please, Ari-," She cut herself off, taking a deep breath. "Please, Arturia. It's my mother – I need to know."

Shocked by the use of her real name, Arturia flicked her beautiful green eyes toward the floor and sighed.

"I believe... I believe that your mother may be attempting to bring your father back to us."

A shocked silence filled the room – even the wind gusting through the holes in the walls seemed to stop at the revelation of this secret. At first, Lyah had nothing to say.

Then, she exploded.

"THAT'S WHY SHE CAN'T COME TO US?! MY FATHER?!"

Arturia jerked backwards at the sudden volume, before frantically trying to calm the raging teenager. "Lyah, you need to be quiet. Lyah, please-,"

"SHE CAN'T MEET WITH US BECAUSE MY FATHER IS MORE IMPORTANT?! SHE HASN'T EVEN SEEN THE MAN IN ALMOST TWENTY YEARS! WHY IS HE SO SPECIAL? WHY-,"

Arturia fixed her with the most venomous glare she could muster. The temperature of the room seemed to drop rapidly, and Lyah found her words dying in her throat.

"Lyah Norling, you will be silent. Have you lost your mind, girl? Think of where we are – beset from all sides by an enemy that greatly outnumbers us in the middle of a territory that we are not familiar with. I trained you better than this, you impudent child."

Lyah's rage petered out completely as she began to shrink away from Arturia's quiet snarl, and the woman herself cast a steely gaze outside of the window, scanning what she could in the dim visibility that the moonlight gave her, a glare and a scowl fixed firmly on her features. However, though her rage had been sated, the dam inside Lyah had already been shattered, and she could not stop the bitterness of her words as they tumbled out of her mouth, nor could she stem the flow of tears that began to run down her face.

"...She hasn't seen him in almost twenty years... Why does she love him more than me? What have I done?"

Arturia whirled on her so fast, shock and slight disgust playing on her face. "Child, if you truly think that way about your mother, then I will slap you across your face. I was there when you were born, Lyah. Since the day that she knew that she carried you, you have been the only reason your mother lived. She was a genius, a mage of a caliber so high that only a spellcaster from the Age of the Gods was able to best her in thaumaturgy. She gave away every opening at taking her talent higher, for you. She gave away her chances at nobility, for you. I have never witnessed another human with the amount of love and compassion that your mother has shown you."

Lyah couldn't bring herself to raise her head, her silent sobs causing her breath to hitch awkwardly and her whole body to shake. "Th-then w-why... W-why is h-he so spe-special...?"

A soft yet calloused hand closed around her chin, and lifted her head slowly until her eyes were even with her 'big sister's. "Because your father was by far the strongest contender in the Grail War, greater even than your mother or even myself. By bringing him back to this world, he alone could alter the entire flow of this war."

Lyah blinked, shocked once again into silence. In her home, before everything had gone to Hell in a hand basket, talking of the Grail War was utterly taboo. She had come across references in her studies, but when she posed the question to Arturia, Shirou-san, and her mother, her questions met only blank faces and haunted eyes. After seeing the pain in her mother's eyes years later upon her asking about her father, she had never asked again.

"Arturia... Will you..." She hesitated, reluctant to bring up the forbidden topic, especially in the environment that they were currently in. "...Will you tell me about the Grail War?...About my father?" The second half of her question was almost inaudible.

She felt the hand holding her chin stiffen and braced herself for Arturia to shut down and turn her away, before the woman sighed and shook her head, saying, "As much as I would rather tell you no, we have all of us kept the truth from you for far too long. To tell you the truth, I am not entirely sure why we never told you to begin with. It has been... it is coming close to being twenty years, is it not?"

Lyah could only nod, enraptured so she was with a story that she was never told.

Taking a deep breath, Arturia began. "I would recommend that you make yourself comfortable. It is a long tale." After the both of them had repositioned themselves, the story began in full.

"Very well. It was winter, when the war started..."

His breath came in harsh gasps, puffs of white clouds appearing in front of him and vanishing into the frigid night as his heaving chest attempted to draw air into his starved lungs. Across from him a figure garbed in red regarded him lazily, twirling the midnight black blade in its right hand almost lazily.

"You know, when I first hatched up this little plan, I never thought it would be this easy. You are so much more pathetic than I even realized. Though, I have to admit, I never expected you to get back up after I stabbed you the first time... Emiya Shirou."

His breath still coming in sharp gasps, the young man named Emiya Shirou managed to choke out, "Go.. to Hell... you bastard."

The crimson clad man smiled, but the expression never met his cold gray eyes, made even colder by the mess of snow-white hair on top of his head. "Oh, I've already been. Now it's your turn." The black blade rose, its edge such a dark shade that it seemed to drink in the meager moonlight around it, and try as he might, Shirou could not will his shaking body to move. With a curse, he dropped his head and closed his eyes, refusing to resign himself to his seeming fate, yet lacking the strength to move even slightly out of the path of the blade.

For the first time in his life, a thought ran through his mind that contradicted everything that was 'Emiya Shirou.'

'Someone... I need help!'

There was a rush of air, and Shirou tensed his body in preparation for the blow and the brief flash of pain before his death. He heard a startled intake of breath and a muttered, "What?!"

After a long few seconds, he dared to glance up, his jaw dropping at the sight of his would-be savior. The man was tall, garbed in a long black coat that was partially unbuttoned, though from his angle, Shirou could not see what lie beneath. Wrapped around his neck was a ragged and tattered white scarf that looked like it had seen the end of the world, yet still maintained its pure shade, and set above that as if chisled into granite was a youthful, yet serious face, glaring at his attacker with eyes that were a shocking, almost luminescent crimson, his face framed by medium-length unruly snow white hair. A long katana hung sheathed at his back, the hilt poking out at his right shoulder for ease of the draw.

Shirou became aware of an almost agonizing burning on his hand, but ignored it in favor of just what the newcomer was currently doing. He held the arm gripping the black blade of his attacker in an iron grip, mere inches from taking Shirou's own head off of his shoulders. The red-clad man struggled against his grip, but found that he could not free his arm. With a strange mix of sounds, like metal scraping together and an odd, almost electronic sound, another blade appeared in his hand – this one the total opposite of the black one, such a shade of white that it was almost blinding even in the night, and without a word it was launched at the nexk of his savior.

Shirou wanted to call out, to urge the man to move away, but he never got a chance as the stranger moved. In almost the blink of an eye he was standing next to Shirou's kneeling form, and in a second, he was airborne, launching a kick toward the red-clad man's head with such velocity that Shirou could feel the shock of the air being parted by the limb. Caught almost completely by surprise, the kick connected, and the red-clad man was launched three-quarters of the way across Shirou's courtyard, tumbling head over heels and finally coming to rest in a crumpled heap near the entrance to his house.

The newcomer landed sprightly, his heavy glare still directed at the motionless form of his attacker, and he spoke, his voice low and surprisingly quiet.

"You, who have tasted the liquor of death, your lips stained by the edges of Her jagged chalice, I have come in response to your summons." He paused, and his eyes flicked over to Shirou, and in the split second that they rested on him, he felt as if an entire ocean was suspended above him, crushing his mind and body – he couldn't blink, couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and then the eye moved on, and the pressure vanished.

"I ask of you, are you my Master?"

Shirou's mind went blank. Master? What the hell was going on? He opened his mouth to say something, anything, when the man continued.

"It is true... The command seals on your hand are proof enough. Very well." With a smooth movement, he reached over his shoulder and drew the long blade in a hiss of whispered steel. "Please excuse me, Master, while I deal with this annoyance." Shirou's eyes locked on the blade, and he became transfixed. The sword was masterfully crafted, the blade itself looking like a polished mirror rather than seven feet of sharpened steel, but what drew his attention fully was the sheer presence the weapon exuded.

The sword sang of ice, blood, and death. That was no normal sword, and whatever its wielder was, he was no normal human. The man stalked forward, and Shirou managed to grind out, "W-wait... Who are you?"

The figure stopped, hesitating slightly. "I suppose introductions would be proper." With another glance at the still downed form of the red-clad attacker, the man turned to Shirou fully, and Shirou was finally able to gauge just how young he looked. He couldn't be older than his early twenties, yet he carried himself with the grace and authority of someone who had lived lifetimes.

"I am Servant Reaper, and in accordance with the pact of the Great Holy Grail of Fuyuki City, I have come forth in response to your summons."

Whatever response Shirou could have come up with was drowned out by the enraged cry of his attacker. "Servant Reaper?! There is no Servant classed as a Reaper – so tell me, who the fuck are you?!" Reaper turned towards the fallen man, who had risen into a shaky kneel, blood trickling down the right side of his head and from the corners of his mouth from the force of the kick that had sent him reeling.

"I won't waste my breath entertaining the curiosities of a dead man."

He gripped the hilt of his ice-blood-death-sword-that-wasn't-a-sword and made to leap forward when yet another figure entered the courtyard, this one clad in blue encased in iridescent silver armor. Her hands were empty, yet she held one arm out threateningly towards him. Straining his eyes, Shirou could see the wind moving irregularly around her hand, disturbing the patchy grass that littered the ground around them.

"Then you shall not waste your breath on a dead man. I am interested in your words as well, 'Reaper.'" The last word was spat out like an insult, and Shirou could just barely see the anger flashing in her eyes, almost like the name was an affront to her.

Reaper relaxed his grip on his sword-but-not-sword and glanced impassively at the beautiful newcomer. "I ask that you move, woman. That man attacked my Master, and I will see him dead. There is no need to throw your life away in the process."

The petite blonde scowled at him, shaking her head. "I will not move until you explain yourself, fake Servant. Archer was my opponent before yours, as well, and as the Servant of the Sword, I will see my duels to the end."

Reaper frowned, seemingly mumbling to himself, "Saber and Archer, eh? Just my luck, two Knights in one battle." His frown turning into a scowl, he levelled his glare onto the blue-clad Saber, and her eyes widened slightly as the incredible pressure that Shirou had felt must have fallen on her shoulders.

"It seems that I must remove you both from this sick game." He ran a finger down the edge of his blade, breaking the skin on the razor edge and painting the sharp steel a crimson red. "Ten wo-," cutting himself off, he spun, slashing out at a black ball of energy that had soundlessly been flying at the back of his neck. The ball met the edge of his blade and split, careening past him into the dirt, where two small craters were all that was left.

Yet again, a new figure made itself known in the moonlit clearing, only this one was a face that Shirou recognized.

"Toh-Tohsaka?!"

Tohsaka Rin, the school idol, the perfect student, stood partially in the shadows of the walled courtyard, her arm extended, fingers shaped into a child's likeness of a gun. "H-oh? Emiya-kun, is that you? So you're a Master as well? My, my, will this night hold no end to the surprises?" She then fixed her gaze on Reaper, her eyes hard. "I believe my Servant told you to explain yourself, 'Reaper.' Who are you, and what is your business here?"

Reaper's scowl grew fiercer, and he spat out, "Again and again with the interruptions, and more and more bodies to add to the count so early on in this battle. You have put me in a situation, young Master. I did not want to reveal my abilities so early, but you have-"

His words were cut off as Archer, forgotten due to the addition of the newcomers, launched himself towards Saber's unprotected back, and threw both of his blades like one would throw a ball – one aimed at Rin, the other at Shirou himself. For a horrifying moment, it seemed to Shirou that after all that had happened, not only was he going to die, but he was going to be unable to save two others from death, in his own house, no less!

"Tohsaka! Look-," suddenly, a figure that had been easily fifteen yards away from the stunned girl was right next to her, grabbing her by an arm, and vanishing just as quickly with a flutter of cloth. Shirou felt a vice grip onto his arm, and with a sharp jerk, he was suddenly on the other side of the courtyard.

The movement had taken a matter of seconds. Shocked out of his mad rush towards Saber and giving the woman a chance to leap forwards and spin around, creating distance between them, Archer gaped openly at the sheer ridiculousness of what had just happened. The iron grip on Shirou's arm faded, and he fell to his knees once again as his battered body would no longer support his weight. A similar 'oomph' next to him proved that Rin had suffered the same fate of being unceremoniously dumped onto the ground.

"Underhanded tricks such as that are the work of cowards, Archer. I thought more highly of a Knight-class warrior."

Saber glared at the red-clad warrior, nodding her head once, sharply. "Agreed. I had thought that you lacked honor when you fled our duel after Shirou, but your actions have brought you to a new low, Archer."

Archer surprised her, then, by recovering enough to smirk at her. "I'll be sure to be properly regretful next time." With that, he dashed towards the wall, and in a single smooth motion, bounded over it.

Saber moved to follow, and Reaper simply sighed and sheathed his sword with a flourish. "Saber! Leave him be. We have more pressing matters to discuss." Rin, who had remained oddly silent since her rescue from impalement on Archer's blades, focused a confused glare on Reaper, who returned it with an icy, indifferent stare.

"After that little display, I can't help but begin to believe that you actually are a Servant. But there has never been a class by the name of Reaper. Would you be willing to clarify what you mean?"

"No."

The dark-clad swordsman's answer was short and succinct, and Rin visibly wilted, before settling into a more serious face. "Servant, if you truly are a new and unheard of class, you could be the harbinger of something completely different – something that no-one expects. I am willing to offer an allegiance between myself and your Master, until such a time as we determine the purpose of your class."

Reaper shifted, quirking an eyebrow at the tiny girl, before answering smoothly, "That is not for me to decide. You must seek my Master's approval first, little magus."

"Oi, Emiya-kun-,"

"I heard. I'll take you up on that offer, because honestly I have no idea what the fuck is happening right now."

With a nod, Reaper moved over to his Master and heaved him upwards, slinging his arm over his shoulder. "It was admirable of you to face down Archer in your state, Master, but foolish at the same time. Had you not called me when you did, you could have very well ended up killed."

Shirou flushed, glancing away in embarrassment as he allowed himself to be assisted indoors. Noticing Rin and Saber idly standing by, he jumped at the chance to change the topic, "Oi, Tohsaka, you can follow us. We're going to the dining area."

With a shrug, the girl followed behind, her Servant close by her side. In a moment, they were indoors, Shirou falling heavily onto one of the cushions around the table, Reaper and Saber taking opposite places on the walls across from each other, and Rin idly fiddling with the broken glass that adorned the windowsill that Archer had thrown Shirou through.

"So tell me, Emiya-kun, how much are you aware of?"

The boy in question sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "Honestly, I have no idea. I saw Saber and Archer fighting at the school, and ran away as fast as I could from that, then Archer appeared and stabbed me, and I remember passing out. After that, I came back here, and the rest is history."

Rin blanched as he freely admitted his ignorance of the events that he had just been embroiled in. "Y-you mean to tell me that you don't know about the Holy Grail War? Or Masters and Servants? Anything at all?"

He shrugged, "That's what I said, right? You're speaking Greek to me right now." The girl stared at him incredulously for a moment longer, then palmed her face, muttering, "What kind of mage is this guy..." Inhaling and exhaling deeply, she crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one hip, extending one arm outward, and pointing a finger vaguely around the room.

"You are what is called a Master, a player is a violent struggle known as the Holy Grail War that occurs periodically throughout Fuyuki City. Seven Masters summon seven Servants, and they wage a battle royale throughout the city, until only one Master and one Servant remains, with the prize being the Holy Grail itself."

"What? The Holy Grail can't be real, can it?"

Rin made a 'humm' noise, responding, "No one really knows if this Holy Grail is the same cup that touched the mouth of Christ, or if it is just a manifestation of the belief of a Holy Grail, but one thing is for certain – whatever it is, it is very real, and it offers a fantastic prize to the winner of the War. The Holy Grail grants the victor one true, undeniable wish."

"A wish?"

"Yes. I would normally take you to see the overseer of this battle, but with current circumstances," here she cut a sharp glance at Reaper, "being what they are, I'll give you the bare-bones version. With his presence, we should play our cards as close to our chest as possible."

Shirou nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. Reaper shifted at the unsubtle mention of his abnormality, but made no comment.

Taking their silence as an acknowledgment to continue, Rin began the long process of educating Shirou on the intricacies of what being a Master truly entailed.

They did not finish their conversation until the last of the night had faded away and well into the morning.

Well, there it is. Here's hoping that this idea stays alive long enough for me to go somewhere with it.

Life is... difficult for me, lately.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and reviews of any kind are always welcome!

~Kapskaen