[Prologue: Part 2]
The boy awoke in an unfamiliar bed situated in an unfamiliar room. His wounds didn't hurt anymore either, and the angel was gone. His predominant emotion was utter confusion.
If this is hell, it's disappointing.
As a rule, the environment itself is always the easiest to analyze when you first wake up. He took a look around the room he was in; it was spartan, bearing no signs of decoration. A cleared desk, two bookshelves, a closed closet which he guessed was empty, and the bed he himself occupied. The lights were off and the room was illuminated dimly from sunset rays filtering in through the window's drawn curtains.
Wait, sunset? How long have I been asleep?
That thought returned his sense of self-awareness.
Tugging the blanket off his lower half, he straightened himself on the bed, producing a slight sting from his sore muscles, but nothing unmanageable. Actually, the pain seemed to have diminished; an anomaly. He listened for signs of life in the building for a few seconds and heard none. The boy stood upright, nearly falling over from a head-rush, but managing to maintain his balance.
A mirror... I should find one.
A second look about the room showed a mirror bolted to the door of the empty closet. His steps came relatively easy as he crossed the room to look at himself. When he reached the mirror, it dawned on him that this was the first time he'd seen his reflection in about a month.
The figure that stood before him was skinny, with clearly visible ribs, a little over one and a half meters in height. His hair was gray and the only stylistic way to describe it was "matted". That expressionless face compounded by his glazed-over maroon eyes was the same as ever. As it was the last time, the boy hated his appearance.
He looked at his own body to find it heavily bandaged along with several inscribed patches he recognized as healing charms. That must be why his fractured bones weren't paining him as much as they should have.
Wait... Healing charms? Was I treated by a magus?
It was a needless question. Of course he had been. The real question was why any magus would treat him now as opposed to simply killing him... Or worse. The only conclusion he could come to was that they didn't know who he was. If that was the case, he'd best figure out a way to get out of there in a hurry. However, that sort of plan usually necessitates knowing exactly where "there" is.
Time to look around.
Apart from the bandages covering his lean torso, he was clad only in a simple pair of scrub pants, with no sign of the remnants of his former bloody attire, though the scraps were past useless now anyways. No immediately debilitating injuries meant that it was possible to move about and get a feel for his surroundings although he'd need to find a jacket or something for the sake of appearances before actually fleeing. His course of action decided, he took a few more steps and then opened the door. Descending the stairs, the boy cast a glance about the living room to find the woman he'd met in the alley slouching on the couch in the center of the room. He froze on the stairwell.
What should I say?
He didn't know. Should he express his gratitude? Inquire where he was? Ask what happened? No option seemed especially appropriate, so he said nothing, staring at her while he thought.
Now that his vision was clear, the young woman's beauty was even more apparent. She was of a slender build, wearing pressed slacks and a dark red blouse alongside earrings and a necklace inset with strange, gleaming gems. Her skin was fair, juxtaposing elegantly against her raven-black hair which was tied back into a lose ponytail...
"You're awake."
Her voice brought him sharply back to reality. She turned her head slightly to look at him, showing her clear blue eyes. He must have pondered at least a dozen questions in the few seconds he stood there, yet in this entranced still-barely-conscious state all he could ask was...
"Who are you?"
She blinked, furrowing her brow slightly, as if the question was unexpected. In hindsight, it was, but she answered anyways.
"My name's Rin Tohsaka."
Neither of them had actually moved since laying eyes on each other. Tohsaka was regarding him in a relaxed slouch, while he was still frozen on the stairs with one hand on the railing.
"And you? What's your name?"
He tensed. That was the question he should have been trying to dodge instead of opening the door by reciprocity. Too late to avoid it now if he didn't wanna get suspicious.
"... Zakyr." He stated simply.
The response of this 'Tohsaka' was an informed, borderline-smug smirk.
"Zakyr Einzbern?"
That inquiry should have put him on guard. It should have made him ready himself for a fight. Instead, it just made him seize up, dumbstruck, without activating any sort of magic or defense mechanism. Before he could say anything, she chuckled, then motioned him over.
"Sit."
He obeyed almost mechanically, slowly crossing the room towards her with both his mind and his heart racing.
Did something give him away or did she know beforehand? He had taken nothing when he fled, so there were no personal effects to betray him. He was marked, of course, but not many people would check the eyes and even fewer should have known what those indicated. It was far from conclusive evidence in any case.
Still, he could tell she was far from ordinary assumptions; she gave off an almost regal air. Despite his acclimation to royalty as an Einzbern servant, Zakyr felt somehow unworthy as he approached her. Wearing only bandages and scrub pants draped over an unhealthily skinny frame, gazing into those burning eyes with his own flat emotionless ones...
What the fuck am I thinking?
He mentally smacked himself back down to reality. Sensing her prana levels, Zakyr assessed her own magical capacity as being far greater than his. If she considered him a threat, he seriously could die here. This was no time to be concerned over trivialities.
The whole eight or so steps it took to cross from the stairwell to the couch seemed like a marathon. He sank down into the couch next to her wordlessly, keeping as much distance between them as possible.
It's no guess. She knows. Which means that if she was going to give me up, she'd have done it already. I should hear what she has to say.
Tohsaka surveyed him for a moment, then decided to start by filling him in on what had happened while he was unconscious.
"You passed out: prana depletion, blood loss, blunt trauma, compound-fractured bones, severe exhaustion... I couldn't just leave you there."
Why not? Zakyr thought to himself in a brief gap in her speech.
"So I brought you here." She concluded before looking up with a fond smile, as if thinking of some incomprehensible joke. "Thanks to a certain idiot I know, I've had more than enough experience treating wounds of all varieties, so you'll be fine."
"..."
Zakyr still said nothing. It seemed best to get as much information as he could before saying anything himself. At this close distance, he kept his eyes averted as Tohsaka spoke. She tilted her head slightly as if expecting him to say something, then narrowed her gaze as if annoyed.
"You're welcome."
He looked up, embarrassed at having forgotten his manners.
"Sorry, I'm still a little out of it, I guess. Thanks, M'lady." He responded with a slight bow of his head.
He attempted to stand, but was stopped cold by hand pressing him back down on his chest.
"Hey! You try to keep running now and you'll die for sure! At least stay here until your injuries heal, idiot."
Yeah, she was definitely nobility in her own mind if not reality. Zakyr was now set in that conclusion.
"I don't mean to impose." He attempted to dismiss himself.
"You already have. Also, saving you wasn't easy or fast, and I'd rather not see all that work go to nothing straight away. So stay here for a bit longer, then go back upstairs and rest." She said authoritatively.
Was she annoyed or concerned? Zakyr honestly could not tell. Both maybe? Alternating between one and the other? Something else entirely? Whatever it was, he had the sense to follow her direction and acknowledged her with a nod.
Pleased with his obedience, Tohsaka reached over to a tea set on the table adjacent to the couch they were both sitting on, poured two cups, and passed a cup and saucer over to Zakyr. He took it wordlessly, trying to avert his eyes in the offhand chance she knew the markings.
"So, Zakyr... You're a homunculus, aren't you?"
So much for that.
"... What makes you think that?"
"I knew another renegade Einzbern a while back. You look kind of like her."
For a moment, Zakyr completely forgot his situation and focused on that statement.
Another?
As far as he knew, he was the first one to have ever run away, or rather, to have succeeded. Failures were little more than guard dogs who mindlessly roared the Einzbern grounds. Successful homunculi had either been eliminated or killed in action. Even now he saw the others in his mind, a pile of flesh built from those who had failed in their purpose...
"Well, judging by the fact that Einzbern familiars are trying to kill an Einzbern homunculus, it's a pretty safe guess that you've fallen out of their favor."
Perhaps showing his first genuine sign of emotion, he snorted. "You could say that."
"Then tell me what happened."
The request mixed with a command made him tense. He shouldn't say anything; it was safer that way... But maybe it wouldn't hurt to confide just some of his story. As a record in the likely event of his failure. Yes, that would be permissible.
He took a sip of tea. The first time he'd ever had tea in his life, actually.
"Huh... It's good."
He then began.