The man had been waiting for so long. Ten years of waiting, ten years of training, ten years of understanding. Ten years of longing. Ten years of pain.
And now, simply ten minutes of silence, before the moon shows itself.
There was nothing for him to do, other then reflect and meditate. It was the perfect spot for it anyway. He crossed his legs, sat down, and bowed before the small altar. Such a quiet place, moving at a lonely pace.
An isolated place. The incense he had lit only minutes before mingled sweetly with the taste of the forest air. The candles' flames swayed gently, and the wind lightly caressing his brows, as he waited patiently for ten minutes.
Ten minutes.
He scoffed slightly. What was ten minutes anyway?
And why did he have to wait?
The moon had been shining only minutes before. It was an unforeseen delay, a turn of events even he could not predict. The clouds had decided to hide Mother Moon beneath their embrace, it seems. They wanted to hide her from him, and he could not start without its light.
It was a joke. He had waited for so long, so very long to participate, and now, nature mocks him, by making him wait still.
So close.
Well it won't mock him any longer.
He scoffed slightly again. He laughed at himself, at how childish he was, and how little patience he had.
He had waited a long time. Surely he could wait a little more.
Nine minutes.
The wind chimes he set up (Furins, he believed the girl called them, when he bought them recently) ever so softly tingled in the night sky. The paper shikigami he had set up danced under the night sky, under the gaze of the stars.
And the sword, he held in his hand.
Eight minutes.
He breathed in slowly, calmly, listening to his surroundings. The rustling of the leaves. The quiet sounds of the forest. The quiet beating of his heart.
Seven minutes.
Something was disturbing his peace. An itch in the back of his mind. A consistent irritation. A constant annoyance.
Can the minutes pass by any slower because of this?
He breathed out audibly. Control yourself.
Six minutes.
Anxiety? Or something else?
He groaned, clutching his white hair. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. His chest felt heavy, his heart pounded. He felt weak. Something malevolent was approaching.
A twig snapped. A branch shattered into nothing. Fallen leaves were crushed under the feet of something.
The man turned towards the sounds; he should see something, he knows he should. He reached for his flashlight, and shone it towards the forest.
The was darkness, blackness, endless night. Night was supposed to be peaceful, to be gentle, to be caring. A time to reflect and meditate, to ponder and think, and wish the day away.
But this one was different.
Five minutes.
Here was a darkness all too eager, all too hungry. It was a shadow that consumed all light and all darkness, and there was nothing there, save black and empty void, a veritable black hole, summoned from the deepest depths of hell.
He watched, captivated in fear.
Four minutes,
"Assassin," he whispered in surprise. What else could it be? Berserker? Maybe…. But he knew, that whatever that thing was. He knew all too well what that shadow was. A hungry, consuming entity that would devour him at a moment's notice. An unnatural creation.
A Servant.
It had broken through his wards like paper, slicing through them with such precision that they triggered no alarm.
Or perhaps, more accurately, it could be said that they didn't trigger, not because they were sterilized by skilled hands, but because they were consumed completely.
Three minutes
It made no sound. It simply moved forward. The darkness crept closer.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Step.
It was coming.
Two Minutes
The man did the first thing he could think of. He dropped the sword he held, clasped his hands together, and quickly shouted out.
It was a light curse, the first one he could think of. The magic in his body tingled. The air around him buzzed. From the palm of his hands, he threw towards the shadow, a portion of his energy.
It zoomed towards the creature, a threatening ball of light, buzzing around. The monster simply absorbed it and kept moving forward.
The man backed away, all the while cursing at his misfortune. He could not let it touch him. He would not. And it was not stopping at all. He threw spell after spell at the thing. Lights flashed, lightning crashed. He threw fire, and water, ice and wind,
He threw Misfortune at his opponent, threw Clumsiness at it. Threw anything he could think of. His spells were ineffectual. He knew that when he first set his eyes upon it.
But he had to delay it.
Two minutes. Just two minutes delay.
But neither spell nor curse stopped its grim advance. It was throwing a cup of water into a blazing fire. Ineffective. Less then ineffective.
Useless. Utterly useless.
It had not stopped, nor slowed, and now, the veil of shadow it surrounded itself in was close enough to touch.
Even in the face of death, the man was curious about its identity. But he was not stupid. To touch it is death, and no living creature wants to die.
He overturned the altar, keeping it between him and the creature, hoping to buy time.
It simply disappeared in the folds of the creature's black robes, never to be seen again, and he knew the fate that was in store with him, should he come in contact with that creature.
Death.
Death was coming.
His mind drew a blank.
He was going to die. Die. Die. Die. He was going to wither away, waste away, be forgotten, be nothing, be less than dust, be oblivion.
It stretched a hand (could you call it a hand? It was closer to a black sheet spreading outwards, reaching towards him) and placed it on of his right shoulder, and instantly, he felt a numbing pain, sharp and cold. He could see the decay spreading from his skin, his veins withering away and rotting.
He screamed, and he screamed, but he could go nowhere. It was going to kill him.
Kill.
Kill.
Die.
One Minute
There was a blood moon that night. He saw it with his own eyes.
The white moon only ten minutes before, changed into a scarlet red.
The shadow was upon him, over him.
Going to eat him.
Devour him.
But he could survive, he knew. One chance. One simple chance.
He had to summon his Servant. Quickly, before it crushed him. He opened his mouth to chant the words he knew, the words he had memorized. The culmination of his ten years was upon him, its conclusion, right here, right now.
He opened his mouth to speak.
"I summon,"
It drew closer. But he knew he was faster. He was faster than this sluggish shadow, and his words were almost finished.
"From the height of the heavens themselves — "
It stretched out his hands again. He could make it, He KNEW.
" — the great warrior, the sword of light, the Great Servant Ke— Aaa… AAAAAAAH!."
The shadow threw out its hand, clasped him by the throat, and crushed it easily with one hand. The words he was about to say choked up in his broken throat, welling up beside the blood he spat.
All that training.
For death.
Time.
The last of the man's strength disappeared. The creature toyed with him ever so slowly. There was no shining light to illuminate the darkness that was slowly eating him. He saw his right arm disappear in the folds of the creature's robes. And soon his left. His arms and elbows followed.
He could hear the soft crunch as his skin dissolved into the robes of the monster. It was feeding on him.
He was going to die.
All in vain.
All faint, useless things.
His dreams, his hopes, dashed by the creature before him. He sank into the creature, disappearing into the shadow.
There was a blood moon that night. Not blameless, not virgin white light.
But hungry red light.
When it was done feeding, it picked up the sword the man had dropped.
It was an old fashioned sword, a broken museum piece really. The thing could see the rust that clung to its once perfect steel; the gold plating around the handle of the sword had long been chipped away, and the tattered cloth which served as part of its guard was almost disintegrating already.
But the blade was still sharp. Holding it made the thing cackle with joy. It had not only fed; it had found a perfect present for its master.
For in its hand, the thing could sense the catalyst for the next servant.
The man he had consumed was the Seventh Master, the one who summon Saber into existence.
But now, he had it.
What foul plans it had in its brain, no one can tell. Suffice to say that the thing was laughing with joy.
In its hand, it held Saber, the strongest servant, waiting to be summoned by a pawn its master could manipulate.
The Holy Grail would be its master's prize.
And soon, the Earth would tremble, the creature knew.
Soon, for it too had waited long for this day.
Einzbern, Makiri, and Tohsaka; it cared little for those names. It would crush them beneath the folds of its black robes if they stood against it.
And if it could not, Saber would do the job for it.
There was no way for it to lose.
The Third Holy Grail War would soon begin. The postponement of the Seventh Servant mattered little. The shadow would find a suitable host it could manipulate.
And it would happen soon.
~ End Prologue
SERVANT: ?
Class: Assassin(?)
Stats:
Alignment Chaotic Evil N. Phantasm
Strength ? Agility ?
Mana ? Luck ?
Endurance ?
Class Skills: ?
Personal Skills: Cloak of Shadows (A)
Author's Note:
Welcome to Fate/Abyss!
This is simply nothing more than a creative story I had thought about, involving the Fate/Stay Night's Third Holy Grail War in Fuyuki City.
The Servants I have made will include Avenger (just to follow the Fate/Stay Night Canon) and I will try to be as creative as possible with the servant picks, while keeping the original storyline intact. The families of Matou/Makiri, Tohsaka and Einzbern will of course make an appearance, as well as four other Masters (maybe) and a Church Official (it's not Kirei though lol)
I certainly hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's going to be tough (I've set the timeline to be around 1950's, give or take 40+ years before the 4th Holy Grail War of Kiritsugu Emiya, Kirei and etc etc), which means that I'll not only have to add more research on Fate/Stay Night (again grr) I'll also have to think up of possible effects of real life history upon Fuyuki City (after all, World War 2 has just ended)
If you have time, please write a review, advertise to friends, or simply message me or something I'll be glad to know what comments and what you found interesting in this fan-fiction.
Peace out!
3
~ TalkToMoon