3
Two weeksbefore the Ryuudou Temple incident
Death.
Vengeance.
Pain.
Betrayal.
Those were the words swirling in the murky depth of Caster's mind as she stumbled along the muddy path.
She did not know where she was. Seeing Lancer's spear edging closer towards her caused her survival instinct to kick in. She teleported away to distance herself from the blue spearman as far as possible, but in her panic, she did not specifically think of a location.
All she knew was that she had teleported into a forested area, on a mud path, to be precise. Picking her exhausted self up, Caster crutched the unwanted bloody present Lancer gave her on their very first meeting and started down the beaten path.
The luminous full moon peeked behind the cover of the canopy of trees, bathing the battered Servant in a glow of angelic light. However, Caster felt no joy in feeling the warm moonlight enveloping her tired body, not even being in the presence of Hecate, the embodiment of the moon and the goddess she had worshipped back in the past, could lift her miserable mood.
She was going to die, fade away into nothingness, becoming nothing more than a memory of a sickening vile man. She had accepted that fact when she used her Noble Phantasm on herself, knowing that doing so would cut off her supply of prana which is vital for her to exist in this world.
Losing her chance to win the Holy Grail.
Caster's foot got caught on a tree root, causing her to nearly trip and fall. She managed to catch her footing at the last moment, at the cost of excruciating pain clawing at her wound.
Damn it! Tears welled up in the Servant's eyes as she felt to her knees, the pain robbing her ability to stand and walk. She could have sworn that the wound had teared a little: she desperately hoped it had not.
Her knees on the mud, Caster gritted her teeth as she applied more pressure on the wound on her hip, trying her best to stop the bleeding that had started again. It was pointless. No matter how pressure she applied, no matter how much pain she endured, it just wouldn't stop. She had tried to use some healing spells on herself, but the desired results were almost non-existence.
"…Could it be that the lance was cursed?" Caster muttered to herself, before letting out a weak laugh. Her laughter was cut short when she began coughing, blood flying out of her mouth and splattering on the ground.
Weakly wiping the blood from her mouth, Caster stared at the crimson blood on the ground. It seemed that her hypothesis was right; the lance was indeed cursed. No simple slash from a normal lance on a non-vital part of her body would cause so much damage. She need to find a way to-
Caster gave out another throaty laugh, a laugh not full of joy or humour, but one full of despair and sorrow. Why did she care about healing the cursed wound? Why did she even bother to think whether the spear Lancer had was cursed or not? Even if she healed the wound, she was going to die anyway. There was not much time left to find a magus to form a contract with in this huge city and besides, who would want her? A Servant who could easily betray her Master any time she see fit to?
It must have been self-preservation. Some foolish part of her mind still refused to accept the fact that death was inevitable for her, some futile attempt to believe that there might be a chance...if she persevere…
No. There was no hope for her. There was never one to begin with. Foolishly clinging onto straws like a drowning man, how delusional has she become!
A sharp pain torn through Caster's body as she allowed her knees to crumble and fall heavily face-first on the ground. The mud felt cool against her warm cheeks. With a grunt, she turned herself gently until she's face up.
She's going to die. Surprisingly, the thought did not made her fear for her life, instead, it brought a strange serenity over her. She should have known that the odds were against her from the very moment of her summoning. She should have known that there wasn't a second chance in living a life free from manipulation on herself and others. She should have known that her plan to obtain the Holy Grail would fail. Even her plan to kill that worm failed miserably.
"Could the Gods at least give me the pleasure of killing that vermin before I die?" Caster sighed as she pulled her hood off her head with some difficulty, revealing her face to the whole world for the first time in centuries.
Soft blue eyes and thin lips adorned her porcelain like face. Her hair, which had been braided on one side, was a rich shade of purple. Her countenance had a youthful look to it, yet seemed to have a sense of maturity of one who has seen much and lose much. Such beauty seemed out of place for someone who was deemed a horrible witch.
Caster slipped her hand into her robes and brought out the small piece of the Golden Fleece, and lifted the hand holding it. With the full moon as the background, Caster felt a pang of nostalgia deep in her blackened heart. She had been a devoted follower of Hecate, the goddess of the moon, thus seeing the moon with the Golden Fleece in her hand had finally brought her comfort she never had a short while ago.
"Farewell." Caster gave a sad smile, too tired to even cry anymore as strength began to ebb from her arm, causing it to for to her side with a soft 'thump'. Slowly and silently, she fell into blissful oblivion.
Death.
Vengeance.
Pain.
Betra-
…...
Souichirou Kuzuki felt his heart stopped briefly for the first time in his life.
He stood there, silent and stoic, as he watched the woman lying on the ground dropped her arm to her side.
The teacher did not know why, but a strange feeling emerged from the abyss of his empty and dead soul for the first time, felt something akin to a spark of life as he gazed at the fallen woman. Kuzuki had no idea who she was (he had never seen her before in his two years stay in Fuyuki City) or the strange garb she wore, but he did not questioned it. The answers to those question is irrelevant to him and thus, should not be pursued.
He had heard what she had said when he found her lying on the ground quite a distance away, thanks to years of training as an assassin. He did not understand what she had said, something about revenge, but he did not care.
The strange feeling continued to blossom in his chest, a feeling he could not comprehend. All he know about this new emotion that it was born when he first laid his eyes on her. Could it be some sort of message, signalling him to approach her?
With light footsteps, Kuzuki made his way to the woman cautiously. It's best to be careful, no matter the circumstances, in case in was some trap. His training as an assassin had taught him so.
Eyeing at the mysterious woman, he could see that she was not pretending to be unconscious, judging from her shallow breathing. He stared stoically at the woman's beautiful face without admiring it. Her face seemed like a foreigner, definitely not Asian. And her ears…they looked sharper and pointier than a normal human's ears…
Even in the dim moonlight, the teacher could see the blood on her dress and the wound being exposed from the slash in her dress. The wound was not too serious, but the woman looked so weak, as though the brief candle of her life could be snuffed out any time. Kuzuki could only assumed that a poisoned blade might be the cause for her wound.
Looking down at the woman's face again, Kuzuki noticed a melancholy smile on her feature that wasn't there just now. It was a small and rather insignificant, but the impact on Kuzuki was unimaginable. That smile, he had seen it on the face of many of his victims he had killed. When facing inevitable death, with no way to escape, some of his victims accepted their fate and gave him that same smile before he ended their life.
It was a smile of defeat and resignation.
Something snapped in his mind.
Kuzuki removed his tie and pressed it on her wound, using it as a temporary gauze. The woman winced a little, but made no sign of waking up. Gently, the teacher slipped his arms under the woman's body and lifted her up, carrying her bridal-style. He ensured that the woman's body was pressing against his so that pressure could be applied to the wound without using his hands. For a woman of her height, she was surprisingly light as a feather.
Kuzuki stared emotionlessly at the smile on her face before looking up at the road ahead of him. Fortunately, the temple was just a short distance away, meaning that the woman could seek medical help from the head priest much quickly. Kuzuki knew not of the force that compelled him to commit such an act, he had never particularly cared for any human life, but seeing the woman's chest rose slightly with each breath and feeling the warmth from her light body, he knew he was doing the right thing.
Little did he know that bringing this woman, enshrouded in mystery, to the temple itself was one of the greatest services he had done for her, nor the tremendous impact it had on his life.
….
Eleven daysbefore the Ryuudou Temple incident
Rin Tohsaka was everything her female classmates dreamed to be.
Tall, smart, gorgeous, famous…it was as if she was the perfect human being, gracing the common people with her presence in this simple academy.
Nobody knew that the Rin Tohsaka they were seeing and admiring was nothing more than a façade and a well-maintained one too.
There were days when Rin would look longingly at her fellow schoolmates, living a peaceful life, having a family, with no worries or problems except for homework or maintaining a relationship with the opposite gender.
She did not have such luxuries, however. She, as the head of the Tohsaka family, one of the three families who created the Holy Grail War, and the land owner of Fuyuki City, had mountains of problems to deal with, leaving her practically like a zombie almost every time before she went to bed. She didn't really have a family anyone, living in the huge mansion alone; her father was killed in the previous Holy Grail War, though she had no clue on the identity of his killer, her mother died a few years ago, finally finding peace from years of insanity, Kirei Kotomine, the less said about him, the better, and Sakura…Sakura…
Rin sighed as she finished packing her bag up. It's best not to think of such thoughts. She can't let her mind be affected by those thoughts, after all, she need to make sure that her mind is in the most perfect condition during the Holy Grail War. If she let her mind wander off, she would be an easy target for any Master or Servant, and she definitely did not want that.
The school bell which signalled the end of school had just rang a few minutes ago and all of her classmates had made a beeline for the classroom doors, leaving Rin alone lost in thought in an empty classroom. Picking her bag up wordlessly, she headed for the exit, her mind unconsciously started wandering off again.
Kirei had left a voice message early that morning, nagging at her to quickly summon her Servant. Rin did not need to be reminded and she had no desire to listen to the fake priest's arrogant voice, so she ended the message before it had finished. While she felt no love for the priest, she at least thanked him in her heart for a vital information he had provided. It seemed that the Servants that had not yet been summoned are Saber, Archer and Assassin. Thankfully, the Servant class she had been rooting for remained unsummoned. Better to be safe than sorry. Rin intended to summon her Servant as soon as possible, hopefully by tonight, if not tomorrow night.
With a small smile on her face, Rin exited the classroom, only to bump into someone.
"Hey!" She yelled indignantly, before realizing how excited her voice sounded and quickly clamped her mouth shut, putting on the look of a composed honour student. In her mind, she berated herself for letting her emotion go unchecked, potentially ruining her well-maintained façade. Brushing her coat in an elegant manner befitting of the head of the Tohsaka family, she faced the person who carelessly bumped into her.
Her mood dampened.
In front of her, rubbing the sleeve of his uniform with an irritated look on his face, was Shinji Matou.
The boy glared at her with unconcealed hatred, a frown etched on his face. It seemed that he was still mad at her rejection to his advancements in the morning.
"Ah, I'm sorry, Shinji Matou-kun, I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings," Rin apologized with exaggerated courtesy, a smirk on her face. She never took a liking for the smug bastard, seeing him act all high and mighty in school, surrounded by giggling girls irked her to no end. The fact that he was a Matou doesn't help either. She could only imagine how much her sis- Sakura suffered under his massive ego. The fact that he was a Matou doesn't help either.
Instead of barking at her for her insolence, the boy muttered, "Just get out of my way," before pushing pass her and continued down the corridor.
Rin raised an eyebrow. That's unusual. She knew Matou as a loud bully who would tease and humiliate anyone whenever the opportunity presented itself, so hearing him speaking so softly and disinterestedly surprised her. Then again, the boy looked worse for wear compared to this morning. His eyes had a tired and dazed look, his purple wavy hair matted on his pale sweaty forehead, his lips were trembling slightly…he either wasn't in the mood or lack the energy. Rin had no idea what had transpired, but obviously something must have happened to reduce the energetic boy to such state.
"Hmph." Rin huffed as she resumed walking. Now isn't the time to worry about Matou, she had many more important things to worry about.
The head of the Tohsaka family continued down the corridor, unaware that the boy she had bumped into was watching her back.
Reaching the stairway, she saw the school student council president, Issei Ryuudou descending down the stairs side by side with her red-head classmate, Shirou Emiya. Issei just so happened to turn his head back and upon seeing Rin's expressionless face, a sour look crossed his face. Slinging his arm over Shirou's shoulder, he gripped his friend shoulder tightly and attempted to walk faster, dragging Shirou along.
"H-Hey! Issei! What's gotten into you!?" Shirou cried out as he nearly tripped, flailing his arms wildly, having caught by surprise from his friend sudden increase in speed.
"Nothing, Emiya. I just wish to reach home early. At this pace we are walking, it would take me be twice the time I usually need." Issei muttered out a reply, his eyes straight forward, avoiding eye contact with the bemused girl behind them.
Rin wanted to giggle at the comical display of Shirou struggling to keep up with Issei, but chose to remain silent.
"Jeez, what are you talking about? Let go!" With a grunt, Shirou slipped under his friend's arm and in the process, saw Rin walking behind them.
"Ah, um, hey, Tohsaka." Shirou seemed to blush a little, a goofy smile on his face. He adverted his eyes a bit, as though the girl before was a goddess who no mortal man could ever lay their eyes on. Issei, on the other hand, was not pleased, his scowl told Rin that much.
"Hello, Emiya-kun, Ryuudou-kun." Rin greeted them without displaying any emotions.
"Tch. What do you want, vixen?" Issei glared at her accusingly, his glasses glinting in the evening sunlight.
"Oi, Issei…"Shirou looked at his friend disapprovingly. Issei paid no attention to him, continuing to glare Rin down.
Rin brushed back one of the ponytail from her shoulder and looked squarely at the fuming boy. "Nothing, Ryuudou-kun. I just thought that greeting others when seeing them is a basic sign of respect and courtesy, is it not? Don't worry, I bare no ill will to either of you, so there is no need to be so worked up. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me…"
Rin walked past an annoyed Issei and a slightly confused Shirou calmly. As she left the two boys behind, the honour student noted that Shirou seemed to be scratching his left hand quite frequently these past few days
…
Throwing the door open, Alazka limped into his study.
The former Master of Caster stood before the summoning circle where he summoned his ex-Servant about a week ago, a look of pure anger marred his face.
He was mad.
Mad at how Caster turned him from a dignified magus into a whimpering child in a span of minutes.
Mad at how that bitch took his hand from him.
Mad at how he wasn't able to see her die a horrible death.
Mad at how the damned priest had a gleeful and sadistic look on his face when he treated his wound, as though his screams of pain were music to his ears.
With a roar, Alazka kicked a nearby chair, sending it toppling on its side with a 'thump'. Not satisfied, he gave another kick to the innocent chair, causing it to skid across the room before crashing into the wall.
He's tired, emotionally and physically. The past few days were exhausting for him. Summoning his Servant, dealing with her bullshit, being in a horrifying incident, having his hand chopped off, fainting from shock and waking up in the church only to have Kotomine treating his wound with a…creepy look on his face.
Even his appearance change. Initially, he had a handsome and youthful face and a body that was the epitome of perfectness. Now, his face was haggard and had a haunting look on it. His body had lost weight and while he still didn't look rag and bones yet, perfect was not what many would describe it now.
All because of that bitch.
After flatly declining Kotomine's offer of sanctuary (doing so would mean that he was out of the War, and at the same time he wouldn't to spend the rest of the War with this screwed up man), Alazka left for his villa after his wound has healed considerably.
It's time to summon his new Servant.
Removing the marble slab with his remaining hand, Alazka tossed it into the summoning circle. It struck the floor, bouncing once, before landing at the outer rim of the circle.
Before starting the incantation, Alazka stared at the bandaged stump on his arm, painful memories surfacing in his mind.
"Damn you, bitch. I hope your last moments was painful and filled with despair, I hope you die forgotten and unseen in some alleyway, that you realized in your deathbed that no one gives a damn about you." He muttered, his anger almost reaching its boiling point before he calmed himself down. H
He glanced briefly at the antique clock hanging on the wall. 7pm in the evening. He had left the church about an hour ago to summon his Servant as soon as possible, there's no way he's going to delay any longer and be a sitting duck for any Master.
That's why he was summoning his Servant now.
"Let's start this sucker up. This better be good, Kotomine, otherwise I might razed your precious church down to the ground."
Clearing his throat, Alazka raised his right hand, where the Command Seals glowed menacingly, and begin the incantation as he done so a week ago.
"Sliver and iron to the origin.
Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone.
The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg."
Before him, the circle began to glow eerily.
"The alighted wind becomes a wall.
The gates in the four directions close,
Coming from the crown,
The three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.
Fill.
Fill.
Fill.
Fill.
Fill.
Repeat every five times.
Simply, shatter once filled."
The circle glowed even brighter, and a slight tremble could be felt. Odd. Alazka did not remember any trembling during Caster's summoning.
"I announce.
Yourself is under me,
My fate is in your sword.
In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail,
If you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer."
The trembling increased and the whole house felt as though there was an earthquake. Some of his painting hanging in his study fell off the wall and landed on the floor and his tomes were falling off his desk one by one.
Something's not right, Alazka realized, fear gripping his heart. He should have stopped the summoning, but for some reason, he could not.
"Here is my oath,
I amthe one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead,
I am the one who lays out all the evil in the world of the dead.
You, seven heavens clad in three words of power,
Arrive from the ring of deterrence,
O keeper of the balance-!"
With a sudden burst of energy, the study room lit up like a Christmas tree, causing Alazka to raise his arm to cover his eyes. Just as quickly as it came, the bright light disappeared, leaving Alazka dazed in a room filled with smoke.
Coughing, the Master squinted his eyes, staring at the dense smoke. He could make out a shape moving in the smoke, but couldn't decipher anything from it. Hearing nothing, he cried out impatiently with a shaking voice.
"Hey! Show yourself, Servant! Who are you!?"
And he got his reply in the form of not one, but two voices, voices that sounded girlish and innocent, but colder than the depth of hell.
"So you are the one who summoned us. Fufufu…Rejoice, mortal, for many men would kill to be in your place."
