The Pawn
October 16, 2055
Fuyuki, Japan
The train rocks sideways on its tracks. The fifteen-year-old girl, her blue hood pulled low over her face, clutches the metal pole tighter and watches the city lights flick past through the dark windows. She tugs the sleeve of the man standing besides her. "Gil, look," she says in accented German, drawing curious looks from the other passengers, and points.
The man glances idly out the window. "We've arrived. Good. I find all this traveling wearisome." He curls his lip at the crying toddler on the seat across from him. "Especially when we must travel alongside common peasants."
The girl barely listens. Gil's been grumbling ever since they boarded the plane back in Germany, two days ago. She wraps her mittened fingers around the dirty metal and leans forward to look past the reflection of the train lights. Through the smeared fingerprints and scratched glass she can just make out the first of the towering buildings racing towards them. She sucks in her breath in excitement and promptly starts to cough. The Japanese businessman beside her shifts away and politely covers his mouth and nose with his scarf. She grimaces apologetically before another series of coughs rack her lungs. The toddler yanks on his mother's coat, his high clear voice carrying over the rattle of the train and murmur of voices. "Mommy, look!"
Gil touches her shoulder. Mana flows into her like a cool cloth, settling in her throat and lungs. The coughing fit eases. She clears her aching throat. "Thanks," she mumbles.
Gil's grip tightens painfully. "The air is unclean here," he remarks, digging blunt nails through her four layers of clothing and into her shoulder. "It is not fit for a king."
"Or a peasant girl, apparently," the girl mutters. "And I know you don't like it, but we have to be here." She glances around at the bored passengers and switches to her native Welsh. "Elder Ulrich wants us to establish a base here before the other Masters arrive." She pries his fingers off her shoulder. "And besides," she adds, switching back to German, "it's almost an entire year by ourselves." She counts off on her fingers. "No elders, no more tutors, no more dusty grimoires...just you and me and a whole city to ourselves." She can barely keep from wriggling with excitement.
The toddler is still tugging his mother's arm and pointing to them. "Mommy!"
"Shh," his mother says absently, pulling him back onto her lap.
Gil is less enthused. "I have been to this city many times. Each time it grows more crowded and filthy. I refuse to spend so much unnecessary time here. We shall find a suitable establishment on the outskirts of the city and I shall remain there. You are free to do as you please."
"If I die, you do too," she reminds him. Gil's frown deepens. "Shall I lock you in a cage then to keep you safe?" he inquires, very, very politely, his scarlet cats' eyes narrowing to slits. Her happy wriggle turns into a squirm. "No..."
"Mommy, look! That man looks like Neko-chan!"
"Don't point, Tamaki, it's rude."
Gil sneers elegantly at the excited toddler and goes back to slouching against the edge of the seat. "I do not see why I must stay materialized," he complains.
She ignores him. The train is slowing down. A monotonous female voice crackles through the intercom system in blurred Japanese. "Approaching Hirigana Station. Please back away from the doors. Thank you very much."
Outside the night sky has turned back into dusk from the glow of the streetlights. Rows of dark office buildings flicker like electronic stars. The train slides into the station and shudders to a stop. She braces herself against the jolt, her heart beating faster.
A rough hand yanks her hood back. She starts, reaching up instinctively as dark curls spill down her back. Gil finds a stray strand and tugs, hard, his favorite trick when he's annoyed. "Gwenhwyfar," he says, using her full name even though he knows full well she hates it. "Do not ignore me."
Strangers brush past them, swarming through the open doors. She starts to follow, but Gil has a firm grip on her hair. "This is not a game, little Master," he says, his scarlet eyes glittering. "We are not here so that you can revel in your pretend freedom."
She stiffens. "I know that," she says tersely, and stops, surprised, as a small hand tugs on her dark cargo pants. The toddler peers up at her with wide slanted dark eyes. He catches sight of Gil behind her and gives a delighted cry. "Neko-chan!"
His mother swoops down on him. "I am very sorry," she says in heavily accented English, and switches back to Japanese to scold her son as she hustles him off of the train. Gil looks bemused. "What did that child call me?"
Gwen laughs. "A -" She changes what she was about to say. "A lion," she says, and grins up at him. "He thought you were a lion."
Gil lets go of her hair, mollified. "An intelligent child, for a mongrel," he says, and stands. "Come, Gwenhwyfar."
"It's just Gwen," she mutters for the millionth time, but she follows him out into the harsh fluorescent lights of the station. "And besides," she says, her grey-blue eyes dancing, "you never would have chosen me if you didn't think I could win."
Gil snorts. "Do not flatter yourself so, Gwenhwyfar. You are still far too inexperienced and naive, and the Grail Wars have broken Masters far stronger than you." He smirks. "Still...with enough time and proper guidance, you may yet prove an interesting pawn."
"Even pawns can be queens," she says, jogging to keep up with his long strides. He takes her mittened hand before the crowd can part them and pulls her along in his wake. The station is full of people, even though it's almost midnight, but strangers give way before Gil as if they can sense the power emanating from him. "True," he says, and looks down at her. The harsh lighting glints off his blonde hair and casts deep shadows over the angular lines of his face, the strong straight line of the nose and the wide mouth slightly down-turned at the corners. Only his eyes are inhuman, the pupils black slits, the irises deep wine-red and infinite. He radiates power and arrogance.
She knows with simple certainty that the moment they stepped out into the station, every Master in Fuyuki felt it. The weaker ones will hide and watch and wait, and the strong– the strong will come for them, because they will also have heard of the newest Master, the third-rate mage sent by the Einzberns as a desperate final attempt at the Grail.
"They will come," Gil says, reading her thoughts. "They will expect another pawn."
She tightens her grip on his hand. Overhead the city breaks into full view. The crisp night air bites her lungs and stings her skin. She can almost feel the power in the ley lines beneath her feet, hear the whisper of magic in the wind. Gil blazes like a small sun beside her, almost blotting out the night in her magical vision. Her command seals are hot on her collarbone.
"Then they will find a Queen," she says, and tilts her face into the wind and smiles at her first taste of freedom.