What made the sum of a great man? Is it his legend that spreads far and wide. Every man and women uttering his name in whispered awe and joy. The road he walks coveted and the battles he fought sung to every child cradled to his mother's bosom.
Is it the story that he lives. The wars that he fought and the skills he earned. The brothers and sisters by his side who stood with him, and perhaps against him.
Is it the smiles he shared. The jokes and the love he could show without hiding who he is. The face of a hero, shrouded in a goofy visage.
It mattered little, really, all the points above that made a great man. What made him great is his ability to live his life to his very acceptance and the heart to change for he has matured beyond his years. The courage to stand alone, the will to press his shoulder against another, the passion to strive to the end, the brotherhood to never abandon one another.
The qualities of a great man, is measured in who he is. Not what he has done or the good he brings. But rather, he himself. Not many great men are heroic, not many great men are knights and scholars. But even the dumbest man can carry a pencil, even the weakest soldier can strive on the battlefield without fear, even the cowardly lover can earn his mettle.
For the Grail, these qualities exist in many forms and ways. For the Grail, it is a great blessing upon many to be deemed a heroic spirit. But the greatest aspect of the Grail, is that a hero can be chosen from any age. And so long as he was a great man, a warrior with some skill, he could be recognised as a Heroic Spirit. It didn't matter of his conduct, it didn't matter of the wars he has won, but rather the strength in his ability.
So when unsuspecting mages raised their hands, the back of their palms shining a deep red, and a symbol of light appeared before them, they expected to see warriors they knew and feared.
The light flared upwards, shining the ground sky blue. Wind gushed upwards knocking furniture and shattering windows. Still forms, standing proudly amidst the rising clouds, were seen with barest the twitch of the eye.
Their height towering above all others, their armor glinting in deep shades of red and blue. Cyan, arms crossed against his chest and an otherwordly blade clipped to his hip.
Orange, his head looking downward as if asleep but fingers twitching with the will to ride. Whatever car or plane, so long as the wheel was before his hands the world would soon fear this rider.
Deep blue, darker than the greatest depths of the ocean, waved at his master without a shred of pause. But underneath this childly face, there lied a great beast willing to bring countries down by beck and call.
Deep red, a mighty weapon gripped between his fingers. Too large for a normal man, but just right for him. He stood ramrod straight, like a soldier prepared for battle, and saluted to his caller. Head bowed in respect for a superior.
Light blue, looking around himself silently. A sniper gripped between hard fingers. A weathered face wary beneath the all encompassing helmet. His eyes trailed across the haze of smoke. Information having been inserted into his mind by the Grail. The Holy Grail War? Servants? Masters? What foolishness this was.
And finally, a maroon appeared, calculative eyes watching the sun set in the horizon. He wondered why he was here, his life and meaning now that he was leashed to a master. Before he bowed his head and greeted him respectfully.
Together they stood, heros of a bygone era not seen in this age. Misfits them all but warriors they would be. There was no fear in those eyes, well not anymore. Now they merely looked prepared for whatever came their way.
Because really they were used to this shit.
"Where the fuck am I?!"
I've only watched the first 5 episodes of Fate/Zero. So take this with a grain of salt as it's only a oneshot.
