"Why didn't you kill her?"

Erebus didn't move. He knew the voice, and he expected for that question to arrive, but he didn't move all the same. Sitting cross-legged, in balance over the peak of the curved tiled roof, he didn't even gave sign of having heard it.

"Hey, are you listening?"

Mentally sighing, he started pushing back the images of his most recent fight; methodically, like he was folding a stack of clothes before putting them back into the closet in perfect order. He had been duellino over them for hours by now, and they had took the scent of familiarity.

There was a swish of air close by, together with the arrival of an angry wave of prana.

"I said, why didn't you kill her?" The hiss came with the tickling of warm breath against his ear. It dripped with poison, enough that he could immagine the face of her Master even with his eyes still closed.

Slowly, he opened them, vaguely wondering how angry she was.

It turned out, a lot.

Lilysviel Einzbern positively radiated fury. Young, pretty and on the petite side, she managed nonetheless to look intimidating, her prana waving around her in an azure aura. Her ruby eyes glared at him like she was trying to bore a hole in his head, and her hands, both covered in elegant gloves, sank into the sides of her jackets like claws.

Erebus glanced at her for a brief moment, took in her absolute anger, then turned to look at the cityscape.

So annoying.

"She wasn't at her best." He deadpanned. He glanced at her with the tail of the eye, just in time to see her soft features twist into surprise.

"She wasn't…" She repeated, appalled, before clamping her mouth shut, and giving him one of the most hostile glare he had ever seen. Trembling with anger, mouthing those two words under her breath; for a moment, it looked like she would pounce on him like a wild cat.

Then, suddenly, she turned around and stormed away.

Erebus didn't turn to look at her, but he could hear her stomp around the roof, her hissed words. He could very well even immagine her wild gesticulate.

He left his gaze wonder over the clear sky. No clouds, and the sun shone brighly. There was evena light, cool breeze. It was such a wonderful day.

He sighed.

Lilysviel appeared before him like a meteor, looking ready to burst into flames, start screaming or both.

"What the fu…" She stopped just short of the profanity, her hand running to her mouth as she turned away in anger.

Erebus noted, mildly impressed, how deep the education of the Einzbern flew, but said nothing.

Eventually, the girl turned to him once again. She was fuming, but otherwise looked a bit more composed.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She said, her tone low and dangerous, close to a growl. "You had to kill her just because she wasn't at her best! It was a great chance! You had to destroy her, you had to smash her to pieces! You had to… to…!" She lost her composure again, gesticulating wildly, mouth searching for whatever was more adequate to express what raged inside of her.

Erebus left her fight with herself for a moment.

When it was clear that she would stomp away before retaking a semblance of calm, he spoke.

"You know why i did it. I told you."

Those words seemed to hit her. The girl flinched, immediately stopping her flailing, then looked at him. Now, she looked her age, just an offended little girl, her rage simmering in her eyes.

"Yes, because you want to have a great battle with her, i know, you told me!" She said, frustrated. "But it doesn't make any sense! We need to win! We need to get to the Grail! That's what this war is for!"

Erebus shrugged. "Not for me. I don't care about no Grail." He gazed at her. "And you neither."

Lilysviel stiffened. "I fight to make my family's wish come true." She said, her voice losing a bit of her furious edge. "To take back the Third Magic! We made the Grail War! It's our right!"

Erebus arched an eyebrow. "You now that it's not true."

"You… you don't know that!"

"I know, because you told me, moron."

"I never…" Lilysviel caught herself with visible effort. She pinched the bridge of her nose, looking exasperated. "Listen… i… i know that you have your… whatever it is that you have, but i am your Master and you are my Servant. You have to do what i told you to do! And i order you to win!"

Erebus crossed his arms before his chest, his mouth curving into an ironic smirk. He tilted his head slightly, gazing intently at the girl. "Is that so?" There was amusement in his voice.

Looking angry and offended, Lilysviel held his gaze with her own.

They faced each other silently for a moment.

Erebus was the first to break the silence, his tone now serious.

"This battle… it's the kind that happen only once. I won't renounce to it."

Lilysviel's features scrunched in anger. "It… it doesn't make any sense, dammit! Fighting isn't so important! A battle isn't so important! The Grail is! The Grail!"

But Erebus had closed his eyes again, signaling the end of the discussion.

Lilysviel balked at him for a moment, before stomping her feet in frustration.

"You stupid meathead! You follow nothing! Nothing! Idiot! Idiot!" She raged, before storming away without another word.

Erebus said nothing, but listened to her stomping steps until he couldn't hear them anymore.


Alone, Saber kneeled at the center of the dojo.

To someone that didn't know here very well, or just to the inattentive, she would have seemed like she was calmly meditating, but it was far from the truth. The way here hands pressed ever so slightly against both of her knees, the barely aknowledgeable frown upon her forehead, the slight movements of her eyes under closed lids; all talked of an internal struggle that was shooking her heavily.

Your blade is full of doubts. I felt it just now, with that last attack of yours.

Her mouth thinned into a line. Doubts? Ridiculous. She had no doubts. Her duty was plain for her eyes to see. Defeat her fellow Heroic Spirits. Win the Grail. Obtain her wish and making sure that her kingdom would be…

Her breath, burning hot into her lungs. The weight of the armour, suffucating. All around, fallen weapons, and before her…

Saber stiffened ever so slightly, then opened her eyes. There was a steely light in them as she banished the images that had flashed though her mind. They resisted for a moment before dissipating.

She left out the breath she had held. No doubts. Never doubts. Not now. Not now.

Her fine hearing picked up the sounds of approaching steps. It didn't escape her the more than quick eagerness and relief that she felt at diverting her attention toward the coming matter, but she shut off that line of thought quickly. She had rested enough already. Time to return to business.

During her years as a King, she had learnt to recognize the subtle differences between gaits. Shirou's was easy to pick up; a quick, firm even if a bit hurried step that spoke of confidence, with a subtle tone of nervous eagerness.

It suited him, really.

"Good morning, Saber." The young man greeted her, entering the room. The hesitation he had displayed in the first days of their relationship was still there, at least a remnant of it, making his smile and greeting a bit awkward, but Saber didn't mind. On contrary, she couldn't but continue on being impressed by how quick he had adapted to and accepted his new role in this War, especially considering his relatively peaceful upbringing. Anyone else, she immagined, would have been paralized by fear. The young man's awkardness around her, instead, seemed to be projected mostly by respect and awe.

Not like she deserved it.

Pushing back ugly thoughts, she nodded in response, gesturing for the space before her.

"Thank you for coming. Please, sit with me."

Hesitating a bit, Shirou complied. Saber ignored how his eyes kept on timidly moving on her, and kept her expression stern, waiting for him to sit before her.

Amusingly enough, the young man kneeled as she was, only with his posture stiffened and rigid. Saber allowed herself to briefly muse that he looked just like a young disciple waiting for instruction from her master, before returning to a more business-like line of thought.

"First of all, i would like to know about your health." She began, watching him intently.

Shirou flinched at little bit, looking surprised, before averting his eyes.

"Ehm, i am actually fine. The wounds of yesterday are actually, well, mostly disappeared."

Saber sensed uncertainty and a bit of disbelief in his words. Well, it had to be expected. Fast-healing regeneration was something that in that age, amongst the common people, was domain of fantasy.

"Yes, it's my doing." She nodded. "I have sent part of my mana streaming though your circuits to accelerate your healing." She lowered her head. "I understand if you feel disturbed by it. I am sorry."

Shirou widened his eyes at seeing her apologize.

"Oh, well, it's okay! I mean…" He paused, probably understanding that he needed to slow down a little. "I thank you, really. You helped me immensely." He said, his tone now serious.

Saber nodded, approving of his steadiness. When she had replied to his summoning, she had felt his strong spirit, and now she was watching it shine.

"I see." She just said. "Then, afterwards, i will control your wounds, if you don't mind."

Shirou's expression cracked with surprise.

"Well, there's not actual need for it. I…"

Saber kept staring at him intently.

"… i don't know much about deep wounds, yes." Shirou squirmed a bit under her gaze. "Alright, then. It's not much of a deal, i suppose."

Saber nodded. Truth was, she was used to have people obey her commands, and she didn't like to delegate, especially if to control Shirou's wounds had been that girl - a rival Master-. She had learnt from experience that it wasn't always a good trait, but in that occasion, she was the one with the proper knowledge and wouldn't abide a different outcome. She was glad that Shirou could understand it.

"Very good. Then, said this, i would like to talk to you about the events of last night."

Shirou flinched ever so slightly, but said nothing, his composure becoming one of serious attention.

"I would like to offer you my apologies about my conduct of the fight against Berserker. I understand that you and Rin had to carry me back to the house. I want to give you my deepest apologies. I will do my utmost so that it won't happen again." She said, bowing before the young man. She wasn't irked about the act of offering apologies; in fact, it provided her with comfort to accept her mistakes and to make amends for them. It was a purifying gesture. What it made her pride flare was to having allowed herself to make such a gross mistake in the first place, and to have been shown most unglorious mercy for it by a brute like that warrior. No, not warrior. A bandit. That was what stained her pride as a knight.

Shirou looked ever so awkward at having her apologies, but didn't protest nonetheless. He probably understood that she wouldn't allow for nothing else; and he was right.

"Actually, it's me that should be apologising." He said when she returned to a straight posture. After the first surprise, he looked to have quickly adjusted to a formal, serious speech. Saber felt that it was more than proper. "It's my fault that you didn't have enough mana, after all. And you were already wounded by your fight against Lancer. Really, i am the one that should be sorry. I… i should have helped you, But i couldn't do anything."

Saber was surprised by the sheer regret and frustration that flared across Shiro's features. The young man gaze fell down and he sunk his fingers into his thighs, not even looking at her anymore.

She recovered quickly.

"Shirou."

The young man looked at her, surprised by her stern tone.

"Combat is my domain of expertise. You, as the Master, aren't required to fight nor it would be possible for you to actually stand up to another Servant in terms of combat capabilities." Shirou flinched, but Saber continued nonetheless. "Tohsaka Rin has informed me of your recent behaviour, and i myself i have witnessed it. Shirou. It's troublesome for a Master to harbour such demeanor as yours. I would like to ask you to refrain from such actions in the future."

"I don't need a reason to try and protect a girl!"

Saber didn't even flinch at Shirou's outburst, the young man quickly understanding that he had raised his voice.

Saber said nothing. It was new for her to be called a girl, hauntingly so, and it touched a chord inside of her, but it didn't matter and, more importantly, even if she could appreciate Shirou's spirit, there wasn't really need for words for him to understand who the stronger of the two was.

For a long moment, the two locked gazes, the cold, stern knight and the passionate, stubborn young man.

The tension was interrupted by the rumble of Shirou's stomach.

"Oh, oh, ehm…!"

Saber sighed.

"Empty stomachs are our enemy." She said. "Let's eat, Shirou."

The young man was all too happy to let the topic fall, and Saber didn't stop him. They would talk about it again soon, anyway, and she didn't want to strain their relationship by insisting on it. Not right now, at least; and there were methods more efficient than just words.

"Do you have problems with Japanese dishes, Saber?"

"Everything is fine. Extravagance is our enemy too. Please, go ahead. I'll join you shortly."

"O-okay!"

Standing by the door, Saber remained to watch Shirou while he walked toward the large house. Yes, it was true; if he supplied her with enough mana, she would have been able to mount a proper resistance, and the same could be said for the wound inflicted on her by Lancer.

She narrowed her eyes. Still, a war was a war, and one couldn't always choose the battlefield, the enemies or the allies. Often, it was the exact contrary, and excuses didn't change the past. She could already see a number of ways she could have made a more favourable outcome come out, especially since she already knew about her Master's weakness. She was to blame, not him.

Still, was she regretful or angry about his shortcomings? No. She was the one to have replied to his summon, not only because she had felt his heart, but even because she knew that in Shirou dwelt the power that could make her own shine at its peak. He had the potential, in mind, soul and body, and she would make sure of seeing it shine.

The only thing troubling her was that reckless demeanor of his. Courage was good, but a human of his age and level of skill facing a Servant? No. Never. She had to make sure to curb those tendecies. Quickly. And the reasons why was because…

She had to win.

That awareness settled into her gut, heavy as a boulder, as she leaned slightly against the doorframe under its weight. Defeat was unthinkable. Anything short of victory was unthinkable. She had to win. Win. Win. At any cost. For her Kingdom. Her knights. Her people. Everyone and everything she had ever fought, strived, lived for.

It was a heavy, heavy burden, crashing down upon her shoulders, but she was ready for it. She had to. She had to.

Slowly, she straightened herself again.

Now, to follow Shirou into the house. Finished breakfast, he would likely try and make her acquainted with her friends and life, if not for his own peace of mind, for the courtesy of that distant land in which he had grown. If he tried something else, she would decline. She had to conserve mana, and she wanted to meditate more about the battles with Lancer and Berserker as well about her own situation.

She gazed inside of the dojo once again, her mind already slipping back to a concentrated stance, slipping back to battle and disciplinated thought and…

Your mind is full of doubts.

Her breath, burning hot into her lungs. The weight of the armour, suffucating. All around, fallen weapons, and before her…

She stumbled, clutching her head at a sudden stab of pain. The room spinned before her eyes, the walls suddenly looming over her, like they were about to crash down upon her body.

It was a moment, then everything returned as it was. She remained there, breathing heavy.

Slowly, she straightened herself up, surprise and disbelief wallowing in her mind.

She shrugged that thought off. Nothing. It was nothing. She was fine. She would win. She couldn't lose.

Thinking that, she went out of the dojo, and followed Shirou into the house.


The sun shone brightly, in a clear sky that bore no cloud. The daily city life was cheerful, colorful, the buzzing of the crowd walking along the sidewalks filling the air. The weather was warm, pleasant.

It was a beautiful summer day, and Saber felt her already grim humour grow even grimmer by all the cheerfulness around her.

Still, if there was something she considered herself fairly competent at, was keeping her own emotions under control. The grimness receded quickly as she set her thoughts to follow a path of severe concentration, but still something lingered: a buzzing, a tickling at the back of her mind, a shapeless bother.

She was used to doubts, bumps left in the wake of the rigorous tilling she gave her mind with relentless mental training, but this one felt different, more insistent. She wasn't sure how, though.

Considering it, she left her gaze wander across the crowd filling the street. She briefly marveled once again at how colorful, well-dressed and extravagant the people of this age looked. Even considering the gap of time passed from her own period, the difference with what the sight of a city street looked like in her memory was simply stunning.

The scowl always ornating her face deepened imperceptibly. A doubt was a doubt and nothing more. As long as it didn't obstruck her, it didn't mean anything.

It didn't escape her that it was already the third time that day that she said those words to herself, but she was unwilling to continue on dwell upon it.

She turned to regard the entrance of the mansion. It seemed like the exchange of greetings between her Master and the Magus called Tohsaka Rin had come to an end.

"Let's go, Saber."

She nodded to Shirou's cheerful call, and walked up to the duo. Together, they started walking down the walkway.

Some habits gets so engrained in one's mind that they keep popping up at any chance, and so Saber found herself scanning the atmosphere.

It was heavy.

To a side, Shirou, cheerfully talking about school and food and nice places to visit, like that was just another walk into the park with his friends. There was tension in his motions, in his smile, but it was subtle, hidden, and it didn't seem to dictate his actions at all.

Saber was really impressed with him; and the way that he acted, so open and honest, managed to pull some strings in her. Still, she was starting to understand the way the young man's mind worked, and she was almost sure that even that demeanor of his was his trying to keep others at ease, to smooth their problems. Really, it was commendable, and she felt a twinge of pride at having her Master act in such a selfless and brave way.

On the other side, Tohsaka Rin was the cloud to Shirou's sun. Walking with a tense step, she seemed to radiate a steely kind of nervousness, like she wasn't sure if let her nerves ride on or push herself under control and remain strong and determinated. Saber didn't miss, and she doubted anyone could, the way the girl kept on throwing stealthy glances her way, each dripping suspicion and something that could pass for resentment, while nodding from time to time to Shirou's words.

Even in the brief time she had come to know her, Saber wondered how much of it wsa actually directed to her. She had hint about how Rin could feel something toward her young Master, and it was hard to how much of the hostility that the girl directed toward her wasn't instead about Shirou's stubborn decision of taking part to the Grail War.

They were as different from each other as it could be, but there was something they had in common, and it was the tension.

They weren't going out to have a walk, after all.

Nominally, Tohsaka Rin had asked Shirou to join her for a quick talk about the Grail War. Explainations about rules, tips about the right attitude to take, even suggestion about how he could be using his newly blossoming magic in a way that could count. Shirou had obviously jumped to the chance, but Saber didn't doubt that he knew that the true reason for that meeting was trying to convince him to step down from his place as a Master. It could be done; the Master just had to give up his Control Spells to a fellow Master. The Servant would remain masterless and a countdown for its disappearance would begin. The chance for the Grail would be lost, but the risks would as well.

From there, their conflict.

Rin Tohsaka didn't want to have to fight him, or, worse, to hurt him, if it was possible another solution, and Shirou didn't intend to step down, not when his actions could have saved innocent lives. They had been butting heads about the question for a while now, and, Saber was sure, even more while she wasn't present. That occasion was only another episode of a long string

Still, the true source of the tension, especially for Rin, wasn't that, nor it was the young man's partecipation to the War. What it really disturbed her was that, should Shirou decide to refuse to step down, but aim for something different than the Grail, Saber would have, with all chances, killed him.

Saber knew that she would have. With regret, deep, deep regret, but her mission didn't accept for anything but victory and there wasn't place for her personal sympathy. If another Master was needed for her wish to become real, then so be it.

She was ready to drench herself with that muck.

Not like it was worst that the kind already clinging to her armour.

So, they walked, the atmosphere hanging heavily amongst them. Shirou and Rin had to decide a place where to talk beforehand, because they took a precise route without hesitation. Saber just followed in silence.

Their destination was a mall, packed full with people. As she followed the two through crowd, Saber left the sorroundings pass by, letting the flux of information passed to her by the Grail caress her coscience. It looked like that Tohsaka Rin felt more at ease with a lot of people around.

Peculiar.

Suddenly, something caught her attention. She blinked, then frowned. It had been only for a moment, but between the crowd she had thought to have seen…

She shook her head. No, it was impossible. And still…

She increased her pace, catching up to the two.

"Are you okay, Saber? Something's wrong?"

"Yes. And no. Everything's fine."

The discussion ended with that.

Eventually, the two young Master stepped into a well-crowded bar. Saber kindly refused the offering of Shirou at a drink and slipped away as soon as she was able, leaving them alone at their discussion. She didn't even need to invent an excuse: she said that she would keep watch, just as intended.

The last vision she had of the two was Rin's suspicious glance and Shirou's firm smile. As soon as they disappeared between the crowd, Saber let out a small sigh of relief. It was a discussion that they deserved to have between them alone. Her presence would put some topics in hold and heavens knew if she didn't need any doubt to slow her down, let alone to obstruct the connection with her Master.

It lasted only for a moment, then, she was back into action. Letting her mana flare, she extended her perceptions, that she had kept only on the couple, to the rest of the sorrounding area. People in strange clothes, talking, laughing, eating and more and more. The memory of the fair in the village near the castle where she grew up flashed through her mind. She pushed it back, sharpening her perceptions even more.

It was almost useless, really. The Grail stopped any Master and Servant from acting pugnaciously during the day; but she had learned to trust in her senses and…

There. A little burst of mana. A call for her, almost impudent in its clarity.

She hesitated for a moment, her perceptions moving back to the couple, now seated to one of the booth of the bar. Nothing could happen, really. Not during the day. The day was neutral.

Biting her lip, she moved into the crowd. The point of mana led her like a firefly in the woods, and she followed it with firmness.

"Always following the light, aren't you?" Said a little voice in her head, familiar and still faceless. "It's beautiful and bright, even blinding. What did it cover though?"

She pushed it away.

The crowd parted just before the counter. She found herself into a small open space.

There. The firefly.

Berserker sat at a tall table. It looked almost comically small before the man's large build, as well as the tall stool where he was seated upon, but it didn't seem to bother him. He made surprising little noise, Saber thought getting close. She expected more barbarous manners.

There was another stool, right in front of Berserker, almost waiting for her. She sat upon it.

The big man put down his glass, now empty, and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. "Good stuff." He commented. There was a far-away look in his eyes. Saber wondered if he was drunk.

He raised a finger and waved it into a circle. "Circle of antipathy." He said. "Master gave it to me. To keep me out of trouble, she said. It makes you look bad to people with low mana. So they stay away. It's a nifty little trick, but it's mean, really." There was a bunch of cans over the table. He took on, opened it and poured the content into the glass. "You think that we Servant get to have fun a little bit, watching how the world changed. But no, the leash, all the time. Ah, to hell with it." He downed the drink.

Saber remained silent, gazing at him watchfully.

Berserker kept drinking until the glass was empty, then, suddenly smashed it on the table. The glass exploded into fragments. "I FUCKING HATE IT!" He roared, the far-away, slumped look gone. Now, he was furious. Saber remained impassive. "I fucking roamed the land for decades! I fought ogres, spirits, monsters, gods! I went to the palace of the heavens and talked with the fucking highest gods! And now this girl keeps me on a leash like a fucking dog! And now i have to call a fucking little mortal MASTER!" He planted his eyes on Saber, that didn't change expression. He remained like that, panting, baring his teeth like a beast, almost looking like he was about to attack her. Then, strenght and fury seemed to leave him, and he slumped on the table. "It fucking sucks." He grumbled.

A small whimper attracted both's attention.

A trembling maid, looking absolutely terrified, stood by the table. Saber deducted that she wanted to know what was happening.

"Everything's okay. I am gonna pay for the glass. Piss off." Berserker flicked her hand to her, and the girl took him by his words. More than retreating, she escaped.

Saber watched her go for a moment, before returning to focus on the other Servant. She was already regretting to having come there.

"Why are you here, Berserker?" She asked, patience running low of that charade, but letting none of it pollute her impassive tone.

Berserker raised an eye in her direction. He gazed thoughtfully at her for a moment, before grinning.

"Told you already, haven't i?" He said, retaking a bit of energy. Grabbing a can, he popped it open and took a gulp. "We're Servant, you and i. Let's be friends."

Saber made her best to not frown even more. Again, with those ridiculous propositions.

"Why are you here?" She repeated, more slowly this time, hoping that this time it would reach him.

Berserker just grinned. "Uh, cold. Calm your tits, would you? I didn't ask you to jump in my bed."

Saber stood up. That brutish demeanor was intolerable. She wouldn't stand it a second longer. "I remember you that during the day any fighting is prohibited. The Grail won't abide, should you try to break the rules." She said coldly. "Good day to you."

She barely turned halfway, intending to leave, that Berserker grabbed her by the wrist. She shot him an incendiary glare.

He just grinned. "Come on, now." He said. "Not even a little talk? Hey, it doesn't happen all the time to have a chat with another Servant. And don't tell me that you talk with your Master. These humans of this age cannot understand us, not like another Servant can. I know it. You know it." His tone was easy-going, but there was depth in his gaze. He really meant it.

Saber wanted to deny it. Shirou was an admirable, even if naive, young man, and she had come to give him a measure of her trust as fast it could possibly happen. He was brave, selfless, honest.

But… he wasn't a Servant. He hadn't tasted death yet.

As much as it disgusted her have something in common with this brute, she couldn't deny that Servant shared a connection more deeper than any Master, with all their community of intent and personalities, could ever hope to match. Beyond age, time and space, they were Heroic Spirit, a race of its own.

Saber could have said to herself that like this she would have been able to keep on eye on him, but she wasn't the kind to lie to herself. She was just curious, attracted by the idea of sharing a moment that wasn't battle with a fellow Servant, even if it was someone toward whom she felt deeply distasteful about; and that was that.

The little voice of before whispered in her ear: "Really, now. Honest? Always?"

She brushed it off.

"So be it." She said, pulling her wrist from the other's grip. Ignoring how Berserker's grin widened, she sat on the stool, and bore her gaze into him.

There was a moment of silence as she sat stiffly, while the other called for a maid for a couple of glasses.

"Order whatever you want." Berserker offered while refilling his glass. "The bill's on me, or, well, my boss, but whatever."

"Only water, please."

Berserker arched an eyebrow at her, but she kept her expression serious. Keeping one's composure was just common sense, and anyway it wasn't like alcohol could have any effect on a Spirit.

The thought twinged something painful in her.

"You're worse than me." Berserker began after the maid brought her ordination and beat a hasty retreat. Leaning against the table, the big man contemplated his now full glass with a little smirk.

Saber observed the amber-colored liquid inside. Hearing from the information provided to her by the Grail, it was analcoholic. Surprising. It was her turn to arch an eyebrow.

Berserker shrugged. "Wine is bad. Trust me on that."

Saber registered the information.

"Always on the lookout, aren't you? Always on alert. But, do you remember? How..."

She brushed the voice away, before it managed to end its sentence.

"What do you wish to talk about?" She asked. Truth to be told, she felt at unease. Maybe it was that insistent nagging at the back of her head, maybe it was sitting at the same table with someone who had tried to kill her.

She wasn't exactly sure.

"Why, a pleasant conversation between friends." Berserker gave her that fastidious grin of his. "For example, let's say, what's your motto?"

"Chivalry before everything" would have been Saber's quick response, but saying it would only put her identity at risk, so she remained silent. Somewhere, she heard the voice chuckle. She still couldn't guess whom of her memories belonged to.

"Mine is: No blow left unesnwered." Berserker continued, not fazed at all by her silence.

"Fitting." Saber commented.

Berserker snorted. "For a brute like me, ah? I guess so. Yeah…" For a moment, he looked lost in thoughts, then he gestured toward her. "By the way, sorry for that."

Saber narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "For what?"

"For not killing you. Hell, you look angrier for that than for still be breathing."

Saber felt those words like a sword thrust in her chest. The memory of her shameful defeat flashed before her eyes, as well as the shame for it. She clutched her fists tight. Being shown mercy in such a way, while crawling on the ground. Her pride as a knight itself had been stained and just remembering it was enough to make her distaste for the Servant in front of her flare even more to life.

Still, she was still alive, and that was what mattered. Dead, she wouldn't be able to chase the Grail anymore. She had to put things in persespective and not let her personal feelings unbalance her.

Somehow, it irritated her even more.

"Or maybe, you're like that by default? You know, being a bit…"

Saber got up immediately.

"Ok, sorry, sorry. My bad. I won't say it again."

Saber didn't believe it, but forced herself to sit down again.

"I'll ask you to talk seriously." She said coldly. "Or i will take my leave."

"Losing interest, mh?" Berserker straightened himself up and stretched. Saber couldn't but notice how tall and muscular he was. She registered the detail for the next battles. "Then, let's try if this manage to pick it back up." Berserker threw her a glance. There was no far away look in his eyes now, only mischievious anticipation. "You're King Arthur."

Saber barely stiffened.

Berserker grinned. "Right on target, eh?" He downed his glass and put it down empty. "Ah! You don't give any satisfaction, though. Your face is still as stiff as a board. You're boring, you know?"

Saber struggled to hold back the unease creeping on her skin. "How…"

"How did i know?" Berserker cut her off, shrugging. Grinning, he fiddled with another can, and poured himself another glass. "Master told me, amongst other things. Her family knows you, don't ask me how."

Saber thinned her lips into a line. Nervousness and anxiety tried to grab a hold of her thoughts, but she disciplinately kept the reins of her mind.

"Just like last time, remember?"

She shoved the voice back. She had no time for remembrance, not in that moment.

That was bad.

"Nah, it's not."

She gazed at Berserker with barely contained surprise.

The big man had left aside his tranquil manners as well as his drink and was now peering at her with amused interest. There was a ferine intensity in his eyes.

Saber chafed under it. She was letting herself go too much, to the point that her thoughts themselves were getting easy to read. She had to retake control.

"Yes." She said. "I am King Arthur."

"Really?" Asked the voice. "Are you really?"

She dragged her foot on the ground, forcing it away.

"Cool." Berserker watched her from head to toes, a smirk on his face. "Funny, though. King Arthur sounds like a man. And you aren't a man."

The memories of a life flashed before Saber's eyes, so quickly that for a moment she hang by them, a knot in her throat blocking the words from coming out.

"It's a long story." She eventually said as evenly as she could. In her chest, she felt a stab of pain.

"I bet it is." Berserker drummed his fingers on the table, smirking. "I know what you're thinking. They found my name, that's bad. And you know what? You're totally right! That's really bad! Right now, i know what weapons you'll use, what your Noble Phantasm are, your statistics, your general abilities and everything i should expect from fighting you. And you have nothing of these things about me. I can prepare myself to fight you, but you can't prepare yourself to fight me. If knowing is half the battle, right now i am right before the finishing line."

Saber clutched her fist, but said nothing, instead just keeping her gaze against Berserker's amused one. There was steel-like coldness under that seeminly-companiable manners, she could see it very well. She had seen it many times during her life as a knight and as a king, in the eyes of warriors she had faced and fought with.

He was a warrior, and knew how to use those informations on the battlefield.

"I will still fight." She said. It should have come easier to say it, but it was like she had something blocking her throat. Every word seemed glued to her tongue.

Berserker gazed at her for a long moment. "Good." He smirked.

"By the way…" He said, grabbing his glass. He tilted toward her, like offering a cin-cin. "I am Erebus, from Japan."

That caught her completely out of guard. The informations on that Heroic Sirit came flooding through her mind like a river breaking through the dam. She blinked, realizing that now she knew everything about him. His story, his Noble Phantasms, his adventures, everything.

Erebus just gave a low chuckle at her. "Now that is an entertaining face. Eh." He said, and downed the drink.

"Why?" Saber couldn't but ask. All those advantages, thrown out the window like that. It was… why?

Berserker rolled his eyes. "I told you." He singsonged. "I live for battle, remember? And how the hell am i supposed to have fun if i waste all the good fights by cheating?" He gave her a nod and a grin. "Now we're even. We're gonna have a lot of fun, you and i."

Saber was flambergasten, no, she was outraged by this brute's bloodthirsty, thickheaded nature! To throw away such a help from his master just for the sake of his own selfish desires! She would accept it graciously, if it came from a chivarlous opponent, unable to discard its own code, but this…!

"You…!"

"Oh, that reminds me." Berserker said aloud, cutting her off. "Ops, no. We're not even at all."

Saber stiffened. "If you're talking about my Master…"

Berserker shook his head while waving a hand.

Saber frowned, but stopped herself from inquiring more.

The other Servant, a thoughtful smirk on his face, opened the umpteenth can and poured himself the umpteeth drink, that he then proceded to down.

Saber briefly wondered how much sugar this guy, even if a Spirit, was about to drink before having enough of it, but she forced herself to wait for him to continue.

"Do you know…" He began, quietly, just as she was about to ask. He was looking to the table's smooth surface, like some kind of memory was passing on it. "Do you know what i have seen, the first time i've seen you?" He turned to her. That cold, steel-like sharpness was back in his eyes.

Being anybody else to ask that question, Saber would have thought it a joke; but Berserker, for all his uncouth manners and misguided objectives, was a warrior, and a warrior's sight on the battlefield could see much.

"What have you seen?" She asked. A small shiver rippled through her gut.

"Scared?" Asked the voice.

"Never." Replied Saber mentally. She was starting to get a hint to whom it could belong to. The edges of her mouth quivered downward, almost imperceptibly.

"I've seen…" Berserker spread his arms, looking like he was witnessing something magnificent. But his eyes were on Saber, and Saber alone "A dragon, made of swords. I've seen dragons, back when i was alive, but never one like that. Each scale was a masterpiece, sharpened to a point, and his eyes! Calm, clear. A dragon, with the mind of a warrior, the skin of steel-forged blades and a fang made of wind. That's what i've seen." He sighed. "Oh, magnificent. Here's a battle worthy of my time. Heck, it almost makes me think that even being a puppet could be worth it if i get to fight a thing like that." He relaxed on his stool, smiling quietly. Saber kept on listening, fists only barely clenched.

"But then…" Berserker frowned. "It's a habit, you know." He explained. "I watch. Always. On the battlefield, being attentive save your life. Don't always, sure, but it helps. So, i watched more closely, and…"

Saber felt a knot tigthening in her chest.

"Scared?" Asked the voice again.

Berserker went on. "A nice, big crack, just on the chest of the dragon." He bumped a fist on his heart. "And, well, that's a problem, don't you think? Who can go on battle with a scar as big as that?"

"What are you insinuating?" Saber was almost rattled from how cold her voice sounded in her own ears.

Berserker didn't answer, instead just watching her in silence, with steel-like intensity.

"What's wrong, Saber?" He asked slowly. "What is it that breaks the dragon to such an extent?"

Saber jumped to her feet, shooting him an incendiary glare.

Her breath, burning hot into her lungs. The weight of the armour, suffucating. All around, fallen weapons, and before her…

"I won't remain here and be insulted by you any longer!" She said, but her voice didn't seem to hold convention not even to her own ears.

Berserker crossed his arms before his chest, gazing at her with what could be sterness "I told you: your blade is full of doubts. You'll do better to clear them out, kid. I want to fight a true opponent, not a scared sheep."

Saber felt the burning need to hit him, there and then, for the sheer audacity of doubting her revolse to the cause! To doubt her… her…!

Her breath, burning hot into her lungs. The weight of the armour, suffucating. All around, fallen weapons, and before her…

She clenched her jaw, and, without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed away. She won't remain there and be insulted! Not any longer!

"War doesn't slow down for the weak, my king." Berserker's voice pursued her. "We'll meet again, you and i. By then, try to decide if i will be your opponent or just your executioner."

Saber escaped from those words, escaped from the doubts they underlined with absolute certainty, because she was the King of Knights and the King of Knights wasn't so weak as to need an enemy's twisted mercy to prevail. The King of Knights didn't have crippling doubts that made his sword grip flimsy. The King of Knights was perfect and untouchable.

"But you aren't like this, aren't?" Said the voice. Her own voice. "The King of Knights had to be perfect, the bearer of the Holy Sword had to be perfect. You besmirched that legacy with your failure. Your Kingdom has burned and is now gone beyond time. There's no wish that it can erase that failure, and you know. You know that you failed. You let them all down. The Round Table fell because you were weak. Another had to be chosen. And now you will fail again. Aren't you already? Being defeated and shown shameful mercy, but it's all the same. You're doing just as you always did. With discipline, keeping yourself in check, under control, following the light of Excalibur. And where did that bring you, mh? Where if not on Camlann? Do you remember the ground littered with broken swords? That is your only and eternal destiny, your only legacy. A failure without meaning and without trace left. Clutching that little, meaningless sword, atop a mountain of corpses. Do you remember it? Do you remember when you…!"

"No!" She heard herself scream. The voice, the images drowning her were abruptly cut off.

She found herself against a wall, panting wildly. When had she arrived outside? She couldn't remember…

People were watching her, murmuring between themselves. She gulped, feeling like her throat dry like a desert.

Stumbling, she straightened herself up. She wavered for a moment, before managing to find back her balance. Her legs felt like jelly, and her mouth tasted of retch. She wiped it with the wirst of her shirt, without changing anything.

With dismasy, she noticed only in that moment that Shirou has been calling her. Tiredly, she replied.

"I am here."

"Saber? Are you okay? Where are you? I have been calling you and you didn't answer!"

Shirou's worried tone only deepened her guilt, adding to the maelstrom of nauseating emotions already whirling in her stomach.

"I am here. It's okay. Have you and Rin done?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Don't worry. I am okay. I'll see you at the entrance."

"But…! Alright. I'll be right there. Wait for me."

Saber nodded once, then started toward the meeting place.

She felt weak, tremendously weak, so much that she actually needed to tap in her mana reserve to restore a bit of energy in her legs.

"I am okay." She murmured under her breath. "I am okay." She started reciting the chivarly code, just as her father had taught to her, just as she did each time it seemed that the weight became impossible to bear.

Halfway the words got tangled in her mouth, and terror spiked. Had she forgotten it? Had she forgotten even that? Even…!

She stumbled, and fell with a yelp. Smaching her knees, she remained there, bile in her throat, mind running wildly.

You failed. You failed. You failed, you failure of a king. You failure of a knight.

Those words sapped her strenght, but she pushed them back with disperation. "I didn't fail. Not yet. I can still manage it." She murmured. "I can still do it. I still can do it. The Grail will fix this."

Yes, she could be a failure, but the Grail would save her Kingdom, her people. She just had to reach for it. She just had to grab it. Things would work out in the end.

Yes. Yes…

Slowly, gathering what little strenght she had, she got up and stumbled away. She longed to see Shirou's confident smile once again.