Fate/Stay Night: Flaw Insurgence
Disclaimer: Fate/Stay Night belongs to TYPE-MOON and other owners related to this project. The original characters (OC) involved in this fiction belong to me, the reference of the Servant characters are taken from historical accounts and existing literary works of the Old World.
Note: This is my first attempt at Fate/Stay Night and my fourth fiction in my folio. This takes place along the scenario of Fate/Stay Night so expect an AU storyline here. Hope you enjoy this piece of work.
I. Moonlight Awakening
"I am the light, the harbinger amidst the hallowed evening."
The serene light of the full moon took witness, shedding light unto the grounds below its scope. The voice echoed with an arcane influence, the pitch noted of a female caster. Found in its tune, it seemed young in age.
"In the eternal night, lay thy eyes unto the path before you."
Resounding within the enormous halls of the cathedral, the cantillation continued. The darkening shades around it made shadows hide in the night. Solitude was guaranteed with its secrecy of the evening. The altar was steady and empty. The candles with their dim lights have remained on their stands. At the center point of the wide aisle, a sigil came to inscribe its intricate array before the altar's presence.
"Heed the voice of the eternal echo, thy fate redeemed thy soul."
The summoner stood on the aisle, a young girl clasping the gleaming object in hand. The chain was partly wrapped on her two fingers, the golden piece of round shape flickered with the dim light. A faint ticking tickled the silent air. The clockwork was running constantly, despite its age of years it surpassed; an antiquity well-preserved by this young lady.
"A tribute offered this pact, take its craft to thy wish."
The winds have begun to pick up. The flames of the candles have been seemingly snuffed away, leaving half to remain. The wind carried illumination as it circled the girl and the array, the watch suspended on the chain making its whirling motion. The light gave its flash, revealing everything in the shadows. The young lass's closed eyes felt the glimpse of the blinding flash. The gusts slowly forming have begun to fan her garments of azure and black. The strands of her long hair of black with its dyed shade of blue were brought to flutter in the grasp of the air, her skin made pale by the light.
"Of the blood circling the essence of eternity, I mark thee thy mandate."
The chain began to slide away from her grasp, the olden timepiece falling to the ground where the array was inscribed. The light enveloped the object, the winds circling with its influx of force. It was near, only the last line to invoke. The woman's eyes shot open, uttering the final chant.
"Come to me, warrior of eternity."
The timepiece halted on that moment, her last phrase echoing. The light began to craft its ethereal form, a definite shape molded by its illumination. Its aura filled the room, making its span take the whole cathedral. A bright flash followed by silence and once more, darkness. The only light in that hall were the candles that remained.
She stood before the figure, a hand placed on her waist. The summoning was over. Gazing with her hazel eyes, she beheld the figure that stood before her. The stranger stood, clothed with a suit of black. It consisted of a white linen shirt, a ribbon tied around the neck in its neat order, whilst topped with a black vest and a long coat of black. The slick black trousers matched the attire; the leather shoes seemingly gave its luster. The jet mane came bound with a cord on his back; a wavy strand graced its place on his visage. His height came to surpass the girl in a few inches, his stature seemingly noble. Gazing at her with hazel eyes behind the spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose, a smile came to his face.
She looked at him, wondering who this being is. This marveled her, from the clothing to the manner of this man's appearance. The features he had were strangely familiar. Knowing that surely, it was a Servant, but curiosity came with its initial moment. She broke the silence of the evening, willing to ask.
"Could you be Simoun?" she asked him, wishing to know his identity.
The man heard the question. A slight pause came to him before he responded. "You can say that. Quite close."
She sighed, yet hearing the answer he gave, she had a clue of the Servant's identity. She began to judge his features, finding the possibility of what class this entity was. She wanted to ask again.
"And your class is?" she asked again.
"Caster," he replied cordially yet politely. He extended his hand to her, a bow with its manner of courtesy followed. "And my Master's name would be?"
"Kim Miang. It's nice to meet you." she answered him, giving her hand to him. Touching the skin of his palm with her own, she had noted one detail that she recalled not being there. An intricate marking came with its crimson inscription, a glyph resembling a dagger with protruding arrays from its hilt.
The full moon was at the sight of the horizon, setting the view of Fuyuki City into the binds of the window similar to a landscape portrait painted. The young man leaned back on the chair where he was seated. The long-sleeved shirt of black and the faded jeans that clothed his slouched form were wrinkled by his posture. Stray strands of chestnut brown lay sprawled on his visage as he laid his head on the backrest of his seat, the rest of his layered styled hair came unruly in form. Black hued eyes stared at the ceiling with a blank gaze, pondering through a haze of indecision. A predicament it was, this being an ache to his head.
"Damn, I can't go on like this." he snorted as he sat upright, his arms coming forward as they rest on his lap. "I can't go on through this War without a servant. I've been groomed by my family for ten years for this. I can't screw this just because I have no Servant. More to that, because of not having a catalyst."
His eyes stirred to and fro, searching through the corners of the room for a possible source. His mind continued ticking, his thoughts rushing for a possible catalyst. Searching through the shelves of books, sculptures, jewels, antique decorations and others, he couldn't find what he really wanted. He was losing hope in this matter.
"It's no use. A catalyst has to at least be connected to the servant." he muttered to himself. He laid his hand unto the coffee table in front of him, his fingers coming to touch a hard cover. He paused a moment, turning to look at the hard-bound volume touching his fingertips. He perused at it, noticing the title written on the book's cover.
"Hm, Romance of the Three Kingdoms, eh?" he mused. A sudden realization came to him. A catalyst was right there in his reach. There are many potential heroes recorded in that book. Any one of these guys can fit any class.
He brought the book to his grasp as a smirk came to his face upon realization. Why had he not thought of it? "Well, why not give it a shot? Any of those warriors recorded will do as a Servant of any class."
He rose from his seat, the volume in hand. He ambled towards the shelf, taking another book with him. Turning towards the door nearby, he left the room with two books in hand. Leaving the confines of his study for a wider space at the courtyard of the manor, he readies himself for the summoning ritual.
"Ah, a moment to rise from the world; this is perfect." a voice came to echo, low in its pitch and hushed magnitude. The sway of the trees surrounding him gave their eerie welcome, the rustling branches easing after the light subsided. Only the full moon was making its illumination to the woods.
The young summoner placed his hands within the pockets of his slacks. The sleeves of his jacket lay limp on his sides, the garment itself draped on the youth's shoulders. The white shirt's buttons were undone, the necktie of blue hung loose underneath its lapels. The strands of his crimson dyed hair obscure the dextral half of his face, the eye seemingly covered for the matter. A seemingly disturbed grin wrote its inscription on his visage, a reaction upon seeing the entity before him.
The being stood before him, his semi-chiseled form was covered by his light armor pieces. Bracers of lacquer and rope were placed on his forearms; occasional pieces of metal were placed at some points. A net garb covered his torso with its light coating whilst a light lacquer pauldron covered his left shoulder. His dark pants were decorated with hues of blue and red as it came tight on the lower part of his legs with greaves. A rope sash bound the garment to his waist. The long crimson locks were bound together at the back. His face was pale, marked with tattoos that noted his ominous appearance. This being was a personification of a chaotic shadow.
The being gazed at the young man with a dark gaze, his eyes seemingly lifeless as it can strike horror. The youth came unfazed, crazed at the entity's glare with the malice that it had. He straightened his countenance, gazing at the summoned being with a disturbed grin.
"So, you are my Servant." he said to him with a steady tone. "What is your class?"
"Assassin." the Servant replied.
The youth gave a chuckle, starting from its soft magnitude. The seemingly senseless laugh came to be heard, audible with its twisted tune. He halted for a moment, gazing at the Servant again. His eyes came to meet the orbs of lifeless gleam, knowing that death and destruction is what it carried. He eased his breath, taking his moment to speak to the being.
"I am your Master, Kira Saito." the youth said his name. "You will follow my orders from this point on. This is a war that we are ought to fight in."
A low growl came from the Assassin, bellowing in response. Kira simply grinned at the reply given to him.
Books lay open on the floor, sprawled with pages running at the gusts of wind. The room itself was almost distraught due to the winds acting up within the room. An overwhelming flash of light filled the room, outshining the lighting that it had as the circuitry caused the flickering. The source of this light show within its confines was found on the center. The circle with its symbols in its luminous inscription had vanished. A young girl watched, dressed in her school uniform consisting of a white blouse topped with a purple vest and a short skirt of purple to match the whole attire. Her hair of jet black reached her back with its length, a pink clip rested on one side near her right temple. Her eyes of brown gazed at the figure obscured by the shadows after the light subsided, her petite frame still on her knees to the floor as she watched in awe. The girl could not believe what just happened. How could such a being would appear knowing her age, a young girl of fourteen be capable of such a feat of summoning? Curiosity or coincidence, she thought, this was far from what she expected.
The figure stood amidst the shadows, its stature taller than the young lass. Adorned on his body was a pair of silken trousers, its loose garment covering his legs with its sash circling the edges on his waist with its intricate ethnic pattern. A vest of woven fabrics came to cover his chest, the colored threads laid in a pattern not native in that nation. The stranger's clothing accented his sinewy, semi-chiseled frame in its tanned tone. The thick, wavy mane was bound by two bands of cloth, crossing together as they circle his head. A braid of beads rested on the side of his face, along with a few curled strands. His deep eyes of a dark hue gazed at the surroundings, finding everything too new to him. His sight came to focus, setting its gaze at the girl.
The girl was aghast; curiosity never drew her as far as this. This spirit, now in tangible form, was conjured with just a broken piece of old wood as a catalyst and through a ritual that was read from some book. She perused at the being, her eyes skimming at every feature from top to bottom. The figure was familiar enough, the features giving hints to this stranger's identity.
Ok, turbans from the southern region on his head. The patterns on his clothes, the cool-looking body, the face, and…wait a second. She halted her pondering, the face seemed familiar enough. She remembered one of the pictures from her history class with the exact features. That's when it hit her. Frances, what did you summon now? This is a Datu from that discussion during history class.
(A/N: Datu is a Filipino term for chieftain or leader in a certain tribe or community known as a Barangay. This was during the Pre-Hispanic period in Philippine history. Ok, done with the history tidbit and back to the story.)
"Who summoned me here?" the stranger's voice came deep with its tone. Frances almost jumped from where she was. A flat, forced laugh left her lips with a hint of embarrassment and fear somewhat mingling. She came to reply to his question.
"I'm….right here." she spoke with hesitation, a finger pointed to her self in a childish manner. The being stepped forward, cutting the distance to see in detail the one who summoned him. Seeing this child of a woman, a sigh of astonishment left his lips in this discovery.
"A child called me here?" he remarked, thinking of what odds could possibly call him in that moment. "Interesting, a girl would summon me at a young age. You must have skill."
The latter part of the statement made Frances scratch her cheek. She feels quiet embarrassed to confide the truth. But it would be able to clear things for her sake. Hesitant, she replied. Come what may, she thought.
"Well, you see…"
In the courtyard of the manor somewhere in Fuyuki City, it seemed to be a coincidence that a similarity of situations takes place. This was slightly different in a case. The winds have settled and the light has died down. The young man was expectant, wondering what hero or soldier would stand before him behind the mist that clouded the being. The moonlight peered through the circular window at the peak of the dome roof, its serene glow shed like a spotlight on a stage. The silhouette came to form, its shape definitely ambiguous. He kept a calm countenance, his gaze trying to analyze what's behind the shroud of smoke.
Ok, this is it Victor. It could be any of those generals or something. He mused with a calm look. Any of them will be fine.
The smoke settled, unveiling the being that stood before him. His stature seemed to be at his equal, a few inches made its surpassing point to Victor's height. His build was quite expected for a soldier, hardened with strength as his muscles were molded by battle underneath the armor that covered it. The metallic plating that topped the silken clothing on his body was a graceful sight to him, ancient and oriental in its looks. The bracers and greaves of metal seemed to carry its own authority along with the armor. The black hair that he sported was bound in a cord of silk at the end as its length came braided, reaching his chine. The halberd stood with its glory, resting on his side at his grasp in its heralded rest.
Victor gazed at the being, the armor that it had worn and the appearance that it had gave a number of possibilities. But what grasped his attention was the halberd on his hand. It gave a number of possibilities to his identity. His mind began to run after the names that bore such a weapon, the ones recorded in the book of the Three Kingdoms. Only a handful came to him. All he has to do is guess at the Servant.
Victor mused as he looked at the halberd. Guan Yu is definitely out of the picture. He then asked, making his guess to the Servant's name. "So, are you Hu Che'er?"
"No." rang the man's voice, a negative answer.
"Ok." he guessed wrong. That was crossed out of his mind. He tries again. "Uh, Pang De?"
"Nope." he answered.
"Zhao Yun?" he guessed again.
A grunt came to leave his lips, shaking his head to the guess.
"Ma Chao." Victor guessed once more.
"Nah." the Servant replied.
"Ok then." Victor mused. He gazed at the halberd for one last time. This time he asked the question to himself. "Who else carried a halberd and was skilled to fight with it? Ok, so you're not Zhang Liao, right?"
He simply shook his head. This led Victor to his conclusion. It was what he didn't expect to have. This realization came to sink at him, the fact that there would be only one man left to be able to carry such a weapon. He stands out among men.
"Wait, you can't be. You're Lu…"
"Yup, that's me." he said, a nod coming to his head.
Victor figured it out at last. He didn't expect such a powerful fighter to be at his side, this reference only in the historical accounts. Now the next question was raised.
"Then what class are you then? Lancer? Berserker?"
"Rider." the Servant flatly replied to the youth.
Victor paused a moment. Rider, eh? There was something this Servant was known for, thanks to that quote. He sighed upon recalling it, remembering the steed that he rides with and with its crimson coat, it was undeniable. "Right…"
The Servant took a step forward, his head gazing at the surroundings that seem new to him. The architecture of the room and the design of its interiors intrigued the fighter. It made him utter a brief phrase.
"Nice place you got here." the Servant complemented with its crude manner.
Victor smiled at his comment as his back was turned from him at the moment, the statement he found it to be honest. "Thanks."
"So, ya got something to drink?"
"Well, will sake do?" Victor asked the Servant.
"Yeah, it'll do. It's quite close." he answered as he followed his momentary Master.
(End of Chapter)
Author's Notes
Well, that's the introduction of the characters that will participate in this story. Though, it may be a bit short, hope you enjoyed it. I'm currently at the stage of planning the next one and readying it for the table, along with the typing of the chapter itself. In case you're wondering about the identities of the Servant characters, you can guess in your reviews or wait for the upcoming chapters. I'll confide them if your guesses are right or if you really need it. Oh, and please review. Your comments, suggestions and critiques are welcomed and appreciated. I'll see you again with the next chapter.
Sydney Grise