Disclaimer: I do not own the Fate franchise it belongs to Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon.

Transposition

Prologue

Darkness…complete and utter darkness…

No, that wasn't quite correct. Darkness was after all, just the absence of light. Nothing more and nothing less. Here though, in this place beyond time and space, there was absolutely nothing.

A great and empty void stretching infinitely around him. Nothing to see. Nothing to hear. Nothing to feel. Nothing to smell. Nothing to taste.

Absolutely nothing…not that he had the means to sense anything anymore either.

But…that wasn't quite correct either. Something existed in this void. He existed. He was there. And he remembered. Remembered who he had been. Remembered what he had hoped, dreamed to do and become. Remembered everything he had to do to make those dreams reality, the compromises and sacrifices…

…the lies he told to himself that he was doing something good and beautiful. And he remembered opening his eyes, and how he wished he could scream and rage and weep at how each and everything he had ever done had all been for nothing. Except, he couldn't. He couldn't stop either.

All he could do was to keep going, deluding himself that he could somehow give meaning to what he'd already done, that somehow he could still make the dream reality…and then the betrayal. The end. Except it wasn't the end.

An eternity of continuing as he had, flashes of meaningless blood, fire, death and destruction, in between timeless vistas in this empty void. A hell he'd consigned himself to, a hell he fully deserved for his delusional dreams, and from which there was no escape.

Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the Archduke of Contracts be the foundation. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.

Or once again, perhaps that wasn't quite correct either. There was a chance. A small chance…that maybe, just maybe, if he could go back to those young and foolish days, he could snuff that poisonous dream out, and end the nightmare before it could begin.

Let it be declared now: your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. Answer, if you would submit to this will and truth.

It was almost certainly impossible to achieve, and it could be that he was deluding himself as he always had. Deluding himself, believing in that small, one per cent chance that he needed to succeed.

An oath shall be sworn here: I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven, and I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell.

And at the very least, if he couldn't end the nightmare, he could keep others like him from condemning themselves to this hell of their own making.

From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, Protector of the Holy Balance!

He felt the pull on his being, his concepts quantified and made real by a power beyond the world, or an infinitely close replication thereof, and once again after an eternity in the void, he began to feel.

BOOM!

Clouds of dust obscured his sight, Moonlight percolating through the dust down from overhead through a hole in the ceiling, musty smells filling his nostrils. The ground he was sitting on…no, that wasn't right…it was a pile of rubble, ah, of course. No wonder it was so uncomfortable.

As the clouds began to clear, he noticed a nearby door, and in the distance he heard the sound of feet running in his direction. Unbidden, his lips twitched into a fond smile.

It was a smile that should have vanished as the door was kicked down in one blow, an eternity of experience keeping it in place, masklike, because the girl who kicked the door down with an expression of urgent yet wary alarm on her face was not as he expected.

"Oh dear," he parroted the familiar words, spoken each and every time his chance to end the nightmare came. "What a master I have."

Inwardly, however…

What is this?

"You're going…?"

"Yes, I'm going."

The jewel glowed like blood washed in gold in the afternoon light, the silver chain it was hanging on flashing with reflections. The man held it up, the girl holding out her hands to let it fall into.

"No matter what," the man said. "Never forget, I have the utmost confidence in you."

The girl nodded, and laughed as the man reached down to pat her on the head. And then, to her surprise the man sank to a knee in front of her. "It's going to be hard for you," he said. "But even so, keep at it. And never think that you can never do whatever it is you set out to achieve. Because if you do, then you've already failed."

The girl nodded. "Yes, I'll remember!" she said, and the man smiled at her.

"Just focus on the challenge you're facing at any given moment." The man continued. "Give everything you have to overcome it as best you can, and when you've overcome it, take the time to take measure of what you've done, and learn the lessons to be learned from them. And then you move on, ready to face the next challenge on the path ahead of you."

The girl nodded again. "Yes, I'll remember that too!" she said, and the man nodded again.

"But at the same time," he said. "Don't be so focused on what's in front of you that you lose sight of the bigger picture. Understand?"

"Yes." The girl said, but then she frowned. "But…"

"Oh? You have an objection?"

"Didn't you say I shouldn't look too far ahead or I might trip on my own feet?"

The man laughed, again patting the girl on the head and causing her to grin at him. "Indeed," he said. "And? What's the lesson?"

The girl's smile turned serious, looking up at her father as she stood up. "Always keep the big picture in mind," she said. "But focus only on what you can do at present."

The man nodded. "Yes, precisely." He said before smiling. "It seems that I really can leave everything to you."

The girl briefly lowered her face, and when she looked up again, she had a childish expression of determined resolve. "I won't let you down." She said, and the man's smile grew wider.

"I know you won't." he said, already half-turning away. "Well then…"

Without another word he began to walk away, the girl looking after him as the afternoon breeze whipped up into a frenzy, blowing through her hair and sending dust, leaves, and branches flying all around her. And in the distance, the man continued to walk away, never once turning to look back.

I knew even then…that he would never come back…he was going to war after all. Not a war between nations, but one only seven magi fight.

The girl – now grown over the past ten years – slowly blinked awake, twisting and turning under her sheets until she reached full consciousness. For several more moments she just lay in her bed, staring up at her bed's canopy, and then with a grunt forced herself up to a sitting position.

A glint of light drew her eye, and she turned to look in its direction, at the same jewel given to her by her father ten years ago, just as she remembered in her dream. As she saw the jewel glow with inner light, another memory came to mind.

Sakura, the Holy Grail will inevitably seek for one to earn its power once more. And when that time comes, it is our family's obligation to prove its worth.

Sakura Tohsaka smiled at the memory, and briefly closing her eyes rose to her feet. "Well," she thought to herself as she began stretching exercises. "The war's just only begun, and it's not like I was particularly looking forward to it in any case, so I might as well just take it easy for now."

Archer silently drank his tea as he watched his Master do likewise, though she also had a ham and cheese sandwich to go with it as a light breakfast. "About last night…" he began as he finished his tea.

"Hmm…?" Sakura hummed at him before giving a smile and a shake of her head. "Oh don't worry about it. I'll fix the roof when I get the time, and speaking of which, thanks for cleaning up on your own initiative."

"You're welcome." Archer said with a smile. "You did say we'd talk some more later, and I just thought that maybe those talks might go smoother if I earned even just a bit of your goodwill."

"Is that so?" Sakura replied with a small laugh. "If so, then you certainly earned more than just a bit. Both by cleaning up, and for making this wonderful tea of yours."

"I'm glad to hear that." Archer said with a small, satisfied smile.

The conversation stilled as Sakura finished her sandwich, washing it down with tea. As she placed the empty teacup on a saucer, she turned back to Archer. "Well then," she said. "I'd think I have the right to know about my Servant's identity and legend among other thing, don't I?"

Archer didn't reply, and Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

After a moment, Archer sighed and shook his head. "Not really," he said. "Nothing important seems to be missing, but my memory also seems to be blurred, and…"

"You can't remember your name and legend, is that it?" Sakura finished for him, and when he couldn't reply she sighed. "Is that even possible, for a Heroic Spirit to forget who they are?"

"I don't know." Archer replied. "But if I had to guess, I'd point to that little mishap during the summoning ritual."

Sakura stayed silent, staring neutrally at Archer who just stared back just as neutrally. And then after several moments, Sakura gave a small laugh and shrugged. "Well, I guess it is my fault, I suppose." She said to his surprise. He was even more surprised when she took a pen from her pocket, and scribbled something down on a clean table napkin.

"Note to self," she muttered while scribbling. "Always double-check the clocks and other similar devices meant to control the surrounding circumstances. If the Servant summoning had been a High Thaumaturgy ritual – actually it is, the Grail just simplified…"

Sakura paused, and then crossed out the last word. "…handles some…" she continued before pausing again and crossed out the last word again. "…most of the requirements and processes – the house might be a smoking crater by now."

Archer silently looked on surprise as Sakura folded the impromptu note and stuffed it with her pen in a pocket. "Really," she said. "That was careless of me, forgetting the clocks were set back by an hour. A lesson to be learned…"

"I see." Archer said slowly before giving a cough. "In any case, as I said earlier nothing important seems to be missing. And judging from the amount of prana you seem to possess and the apparent…status, of your family I'd say you're a powerful Master, and as your Servant, I'm rather powerful as well. I won't disappoint you, I promise."

"And I'm grateful for that." Sakura said with a nod. "And I'm flattered too. But if you think I'm powerful, then I'd have to say you're being overconfident."

Archer looked surprised at that, and Sakura laughed softly again. "I don't know about the other Masters," she said. "But whether it's old man Zouken or his granddaughter, the Matou at least would have a stronger Master than I am. The former because he's old, and older magi are usually more powerful, and the latter because she's a prodigy, that's why. I can barely hold a candle to her…for now."

"For now…?" Archer echoed, and Sakura snorted but didn't elaborate. Archer was tempted then and there to ask if Sakura really thought it was wise to admit her relative weakness, but ultimately decided against it.

This…world, is so much different from how I remember things. Probably best not to rock the boat – for now – until I know more. And besides…

Archer ever so slightly narrowed his eyes at Sakura, remembering a girl with violet hair and eyes that he couldn't save…the first of so many, in wretched hindsight.

He must have stared too long though, as Sakura glanced curiously at him. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No, it's nothing." Archer said. "Though, you shouldn't be so pessimistic."

"I'm not." Sakura said. "I'm just being cautious. And in any case, there are historical examples of ordinary people who managed to beat geniuses out of honest effort and surprising flashes of ingenuity. So let's do our best, shall we, Archer?"

Archer nodded. "Yes." He said, and Sakura smiled before getting to her feet and grabbing her schoolbag.

"Now then," she said, already heading out to leave the living room. "Shall we get going?"

A/N

Once more with feeling, I guess.