Disclaimer: By renouncing all legal rights to the works of Nasu, Type-Moon and Hiro Mashima-san I announce that the characters that I borrow are theirs and theirs only. Fate/stay is so much more popular than Fairy Tail. But then again, they are like polar opposites if most catch my drift. Fun fact: My headlines are mostly off-the-cuff. XD

War For the Damned

Chapter 4: Only Dreams Away


Fire. One of four great elements. Seen as cruel and untouchable at first glance, yet taming it with right hands and you shall witness miracles.

How selfish and pretentious some people are... Domesticating gift from Gods themselves is a double-edged sword...

Fire burns...

A child born from fire, taught through fire, forged from the fiery pits to become one of the world's very best weapons. Its creator, showing compassion stemming from kindred bond never to be returned in kind, passed the child away to his old acquaintance. Originally created for the sole purpose of killing, it was by his choice that it should serve higher purpose.

You may set him upon the different path, yet his the destiny and the true intent of its creation cannot be altered...

On its eleventh year into the world the path was his and his alone... But what is one little boy in the sea of his sort? He is not the first nor the last, there are rules imposed by humans that distant from common beasts. And rules are meant for all. You poor, poor child...

''I will not die by the likes of you.'' Ant died he did not. The strength and his will for living preventing the demise from the hands of ordinary men. Display of his achievement did not go unnoticed however...

''Gladiators?''

''We are slaves, only free when we fight. Burden of choice and conscious both equally removed. You want to live? Never fucking lose...''

''I do not intend to...'' And he did not disappoint. The crowd approved, his Master approved, but did he approve? Blood their ambrosia and Arena the mountaintop. What more could a man want? Freedom? No, no, no... That is bad for business.

''For as long as he brings victories to this House...'' People should read labels when buying a product that is a human. Before making them a legal property and force to obedience.

Four long years in the making and it was finally time for endeavour. The pot can only take so much before it boils over...

Despite his actions, the people shall always remember the name of the one who ignited the Arena and brought cheers of the masses. Tales of his deeds remained among the nation and later spread about throughout the entire continent. For ones he was a hero a legend that once walked amongst the living... For others he was a plotter and liar...

For the minority that were close to his circle, he was a man. A brother, a trusted ally sometimes proved difficult for his stubborn and brazen nature. But still, in spite of him denying it or dismissing the notion as a foolish one, the name of a once red haired warrior will always be alive in the memories, scriptures of the people. A hero...

''Hero? No, his path was wrought with tears and blood. And fire... Yet the name of the one who struck fear in the very bones of his enemies shall live forever.''

Would he accept the truth as it is? Probably not. For most of his life, he defied fate and those trying to bend his will. His choices were his own.

Standing in the center of the sandy fighting amphitheater with his head bowed, clad in his favourite red armour, covered with blood of his adversaries. The vital fluid dripping from his blade ever so slowly...

Eyelids rising to reveal telltale bright ruddy eyes gleaming from the shadows behind his helmet... This man was the nations biggest joy as well as biggest fear...

If one were to look deeper past his exterior, he would have found the truth much more harder to bear...

''I. AM. IGNEOUS!''

...

''Huh?!'' Ruler woke up with a start from the tree she fell asleep against. So even being like this she could have dreams?

Blinking several time and rubbing eyes out of habit, the blonde saint girl looked at the temporary residence she found herself in. Technically, Saber was the one who set the entire thing. Her partner was truly something else. First thing they did after leaving Domremy, Saber broke into the school and took the maps from geography class. At night of course.

She was against such act, but he provided the explanation that it is not something to be dearly missed by the school, since apparently they had more than enough material. When she tried to fight back again his next line completely discouraged her. 'Are you being fanatical in face of impending war?' Well, she couldn't exactly argue with that. So she let it go with the warning on what he most definitely should not take without permission. He looked at her like second head was growing and carried on his task.

''He can be really hardheaded... But I guess that is part of who he is.'' She sighed out. It was a losing battle anyway. ''Was this all necessary?'' The war mediator inquired to no one on the small secluded clearing in the forest.

Saber literally transformed the place to a mini-campsite. Every night he would explore the surrounding area and salvage things he thought were of value or will be useful on the way. He even found them clothes. Now that was a strange story. According to him, it was standing in the middle of the closed facility. It wasn't really worth contemplating on her side.

Obviously, when they had about four weeks to reach the destination, Saber was resolute in leading a semi-normal hermit lifestyle. Despite Servants not needing food, drink or proper clothes, he simply wanted to provide them with that much. It was thoughtful of him, in a way of sorts and Jeanne did appreciate the effort. Right now, they were at Masurian Lake District, Poland. It is quite the beautiful place with more than hundreds or maybe thousands of lakes. Amazing what nature can make.

Also, she kind of felt left out in these situation. She didn't know anything about camping or traveling long distances like this. And she could barely cook properly. Saber surprised her when he first made a simple dish from a hare. It was nothing exquisite or fancy, but the meat was pretty well-cooked. Survival skills, he told her. Yet another thing about the Servant of Sword, but still nothing on his real backstory.

Jeanne didn't want to pry much, so she avoided the topic for the most part, but after what she has experienced a moment ago... Well, it only brought about more curiosity. ''That's strange? Why would he leave these behind?'' Jeanne wondered as she walked over to pick the helmet and a white scarf. Saber had a peculiar ability to store things with him as well as change clothing in an odd fashion. She first thought he was using Mana to change, but the regular clothes he found were not magical, so he must be a secret trait or ability behind it.

And whenever they were just sitting idle waiting for the day to pass, he would often fiddle with this article. ''It must be very important to him... But the helmet?'' It wasn't the one from the middle-ages that's for sure. It looks ancient Roman or Greek to her knowledge. Gazing directly at the visor of the headpiece, she started to vividly remember the pictures from her dream... Those red eyes...

''Igneous?'' It... It sounds very fitting.

''Oh?''

''...?!'' The blonde girl almost dropped the items as Saber silently made his return. How very Assassin like...

''Do be mindful of those. They are both memento.'' He informed and Jeanne now saw that he had his spear out. And on said spear...

''Fish?''

''Carps.'' The readhead corrected her. ''Surprisingly, being a Servant makes one into an almost perfect hunter.'' He noted with some interest as he sat on his log and brought out a knife with a flash.

''How do you do that?'' She pointed at his hand as he started removing the scales off the first fish.

Saber paused and raised a brow at his summoner. ''I learned at... Ah. The knife? I store it. That way it is always within my reach.''

That was too simplistic and Ruler wasn't quite satisfied with it. ''But what about the other things you've gathered? They are not part of you. Does that mean you can bring a house with you?''

Tapping his chin with the blade point a few times Saber shrugged at the end and continued with the task. ''Perhaps, but it would be highly redundant and impractical.'' Not to mention that there is a certain limit of what he can carry. Adding a house to it... Not in this life or any.

Thinking the conversation finished, Saber switched to gutting their would-be dinner. ''Can I help with that?'' Ruler on the other hand had different ideas.

Pausing again, he asked skeptically. ''Have you ever prepared fish?''

Not wanting to be put off by the question, Jeanne gave a confident smile. ''No. But I did help my mother with cooking on occasion. I'm not completely helpless, Saber, you know.'' With the bravado rivaling the masters of French kitchen, she plucked the second carp from the spear, and after being supplied with a second knife, Jeanne made a new stride at reminiscing on her culinary skills...

Lesson one on properly removing the fish scales: Grab a hold of a fish and keep it steady. *SPLUT*SPLUT* Now try explaining that to someone who never actually held a fish in their life. Past or present. ''M-Mon Dieu! Arrête de bouger! (Oh God! Stop moving!)'' True to having reflexes far above normal humans, the fish would not fly from grasp. But it can still slip from grasp. Time and time again.

''A flying fish slipping from grasp never to be held yet not escaping clutch?'' Saber couldn't but sweatdrop at the scene of a young blonde hopping around the site while trying to get a proper grip on a dead aquatic animal. Since this is a Servant we are all talking about and you get the picture of irony... People would honestly pay to see this...

''Haaah!'' With a heave and dexterity guided by the Lord himself, Jeanne managed to tame the little scaly monster. Now finding itself in a new position against a very developed bosom. ''Triomphe!'' Before Saber could make any comment on how much unsavory he finds the scene to be, the mighty carp gave one last ditch effort in mocking the living Saint.

*SPLUT* At the end it is all science when one looks more closely. The sheer pressure that French maiden applied coupled with the lack of friction that fish scales enabled for the purpose of better swimming through water. Add a few more conventional laws of physics and it conveniently lands on someone's face or head. Jeanne, naturally spared of further torment was lucky in accommodating the fish on her yellow mane.

''Praise the Neptune. The sea calamity has been subdued.'' Saber finally found his voice. ''You would make a fine angler, commander.''

Ruler just stood there. The fish's tail dangling in front of her eyes. One word she would use to describe the whole ordeal would be: dreadful. Amongst many other choices. Slumping in complete depression, the carcass on her head began sliding down towards the dirty grounds.

''My fucking dinner!'' Valiantly throwing himself, Saber despite his bad luck stats saved the meal from getting further sullied. There's no way he's going back to the lakes to clean it again. Or was it all so good and well?

''Wha-Heehhh!'' The trajectory of his path turned into a tackling experience. Not expecting anything of such, Ruler had no room to react to the man almost twice her size heading her way. Fast.

''Ufff.'' Holding the fish in the air, safe from the dust and filth, and by the gills Saber let a breath of relievement. ''Saved... Hm?'' Taking his eyes from the renewed catch, Saber now noticed additional weight on his chest and a pair of wide amethyst orbs looking straight at his ruby ones.

''...''

''...''

A beat.

There are just soooo many wrong things with this position right now. Being somewhat of a pessimist at the times, the redheaded man's mind ran through several different scenarios in a short amount. All of them included him, a dull edge of a blade, a spit, fire and an angry, angry ardent glowing eyes looking down on him. You... are so fucked. And his own element is fire... Maybe low level of luck does have something to do with this?

Breathing again and peering at the smaller girl he spoke with grave seriousness. ''We... are to never, ever break word of what transpired on this night. If by any chance you happen to come upon a dark blonde dimachaerus, a green-eyed witch or one very selfish, brazen spitfire in this life or next... I care not if you think lying is a sin... For both our sake, you will give false tongue.'' Bringing them both from the sprawled and compromising looking setting he grabbed Jeannes shoulder and demanded further confirmation. ''Agreed?''

Not even knowing half the things Saber just said, but understanding the gist of it, Ruler only nodded robotically to his request. It would be for the best if no one ever knew... Particularly that selfish, brazen spitfire. Whoever he or she was.

While the flame-haired Saber was cooking the evening meal, Jeanne gave a long and profound prayer before they started to eat. God forgives those who repent. And to make sure her prayer would have true value, she will have to give apologie to her partner as well. Yes, that is a right thing to do.

When the fish was properly prepared, by Saber's estimation, both of them were hesitant to start eating. And for good reason it seems...

''I'm sorry/Apologies...'' Ruler and Saber blurted out together. That wasn't odd at all...

It was Saber who decided to break the unpleasant silence. ''It seems our minds are aligned here.'' The Servant of Sword muttered. ''I want you to know that I bear no ill will, commander. What happened was due to my poor reaction time.''

Placing the skewered meat in her lap, Jeanne waved her hands dismissively. ''No, no! I cannot allow you to take all the blame!'' She noticed how hastily that was and stopped to gather more bearings. ''Truth is, I was too much zealous in my attempt that I disregarded things around me. And I would have ruined your hard work at making us dinner... so the fault is on me.'' Quickly glancing at Saber on her right she dug into the night dish.

Sighing at her adamance, the red-clad warrior wanted to return them to equal ground. Truthfully, the responsibility is shared by them. ''Then we shall share the burden of our mistake.'' When she turned to protest, he immediately added. ''This is not negotiable.''

The Maid of Orleans conceded there. The issue was seemingly resolved and should be left behind them now. No reason thinking it over, least it spoils the feeling of pleasant supper.

Upon finishing and throwing the used sticks into the stone ring containing fire, Jeanne recalled something she wanted to know from her partner. Before she got to ask him about it, the light of fire casting shadows across the campsite revealed the fact she failed to notice on her fellow Servant. His face. Now, she is not any good at judging the looks of men, but Saber can honestly pass as a rugged kind of handsome. The only thing that would make others turn face in slight aversion or fear were those scars on his face.

'That's right. He was a gladiator, wasn't he?' Reminiscing about the fact didn't come easy to Jeanne. He was basically a slave, fighting for the amusement of masses who were blessed with freedom. Even the unbiased Ruler had to clench her hands in slight anger at such injustice. Just spilling blood to stay alive, knowing nothing but fighting... What was that line from her dream? '' 'Burden of choice and conscious equally removed...' '' She unknowingly quoted it out loud.

And the man a few feet beside her had to perk at what he heard came from her mouth. Letting go of his freshly tied scarf, he peered at the Saint. ''Where have you heard that?'' The tone might have come a little forceful, but he wasn't aware. There is no way someone like her would have a cause to repeat that specific line. So what was the deal now? Saber had to get to the bottom of it.

''Eh?'' The French blonde responded a little dumbly for her tastes. She really said it out loud? ''Good job, Jeanne. Now how to tell your partner you were dreaming of him after a few moments ago you...'' She shook her head furiously, not wishing the mental image to reappear in her mind. Seriously, how does she explain and not come off as weirdo?

Seeing that Saber was expecting her response, she tried to put it most diplomatically as possible. Or as she thought was possible. ''You know there exists a bond between Master and Servant summoned by the Holy Grail?'' Saber nodded, prompting her to continue. ''Well... when enough time is spent during contract, a connection of sorts appears. I am not entirely sure how it manifests to others, but apparently, uhh, I receive a glimpses of your past life.'' She finished succinctly, hoping that Saber would get the right idea.

''You have dreams of my life?'' Hellbent on breaking every ounce of grace she held with his blunt nature. Ruler could only confirm his simple statement. No matter how ashamed she felt by it. His next inquiry and the tone he asked might have surprised the mediator of the Holy Grail War. ''What have you seen?'' It was a perfectly reasonable sounding.

''Mostly voices randomly talking. I can only recall one event. You were standing on an empty grounds of the Arena... There was fire, lots of fire. And blood...'' Replaying the scene was making someone like her, who has seen the horrors of war, a little queasy.

Scrunching his face in concentration briefly, Saber declared. ''So that one is what you witnessed...'' Taking a few more seconds to mull over something his eyes found Ruler's again. ''Make no mistake, commander. Throats that I sliced, guts that I have pried open... lives of those who fell by my hand, I would not change the outcome either way. Because what stands before you is the man who walked the path of crucible, his sole desire back then... To live.'' Survival of the fittest at the first half of his life, next came deceits, hardships, followed by more blood...

Putting his helmet back he started walking away from the sitting space. The sentry hours he suggested were still in action, and the night was barely at its peek. His shift has yet to end.

''Igneous!'' Freezing mid-step, the once former gladiator turned his head to his superior. It came unexpected that there were no traces of anger, scorn or disgust coming from Ruler. Her entire posture and disposition only gave away kindness, sympathy and... understanding of all things. ''I won't pretend to know what you have been through. But you are a good person, that much I know.'' Flashing another sincere smile his way. ''Sometimes it's best to simply confess to another person. I won't push it, but if you ever need to do so, I will always lend my ear.''

Completely, utterly inconceivable. ''This woman...'' Had only there been more like her, the world would already be a better place. Wishful thinking, Saber knew. He knew the nature of humans. But here is the proof that even among the blackened filth there would be rare gems like Jeanne. If only... ''You should rest some more. We leave in a few hours.'' Looking at the position of the moon he deduced there is about two or three hours until midnight.

Watching his retreating back, the Saint of Orleans suppressed an exhale. Looks like she is still in for a bumpy ride concerning her relation with Saber. ''But commander,'' her head snapped at his demi-amused tone he called out, ''that is not my name.'' His voice carried through the shadows of a forest.

Bitting the inside of her cheek, Jeanne now fought feeling exasperation with all she had. ''But it was... The name was... Oh dear.'' Finally succumbing to it, she went on to get another round of shuteye. Hoping that dreams of anothers past would avoid her the second time. She had enough of for one day. Thinking about a dimachaerus, witch and spitfire should be put aside for now. Preferably when Saber is ready to be more open...

Okay, witch she could understand, but what do dimachaerus and spitfire have anything to do with?

Grumbling under her breath, Jeanne screwed her eyes shut tighter. Curiosity kills a cat. In this case, it kills sleep. Not so much of a good idea. Saber would probably scold her for not listening. He usually was in the right with these situations...

XxX

''Uuuggghhhhh...'' Who would have thought that waiting for a war to happen was this boring. Does that even sound like something a sane person should think about? Well, when you are a Servant who was one of the greatest combat specialists in your actual life... It's perfectly rational.

Being summoned under a Berserker class, a supposed war-hungry, battle maniac does not help the situation at all. ''Maldito sea... (Damn it...)'' Even with all her faculties perfectly sane and currently intact, Berserker had to groan in annoyance. ''Guess it's true when they say boredom can kill a person... Slowly and agonizingly.'' And at this moment, the blonde Servant of Madness felt like drowning in it.

Illya had another, important lesson with Smiley which she was not going to stay over and listen to Sella's droning. No thank you, she knows enough for herself. Even if some things had to be learned the hard way, like by being tied and drugged for not watching your step and then having to face ugly cannibals on a deserted island that wanted you for supposedly being a manifestation of their long-lost God...

Or getting temporary stranded with giant flying rodents dressed in a pink costume whose owners are some high delirious punk who rooms with a trio of similarly unstable whiners... Then you find out the peaceful tribe who plays as your host are actually misguided mooncalfs prating on some forbidden prophecy of Purple Moon... Or was it pink again? ''Oh look, that cloud has wings and is rapidly approaching...'' What in the scarlet woman's dry nethers? ''Well, fuck...''

Leaping from the rooftop of a castle at high speed, Berserker landed in a crouch at the hedge maze. All the previous damage from the last fight gone like it never happened. Creepy much? ''Goody gumdrops, this might be juuuussstttt the thing good doctor ordered.'' Berserker muttered while cracking her neck. ''Vamos a darle! (Let's rock it!)'' With a renewed eagerness and a grin that would make lesser ones piss their pants, she dashed into the fray.

Running in the random direction, she waited for the enemy to make a first move. Plenty of cover here, and with her being busy with familiars, she would find it difficult to use her nose for more extensive periods of tracking targets. Smart, little... Dodge left! Unlike last time, this was an eagle. Wing span over six feet, majestic copy of fearsome bird of prey. Too bad, it bitten more than it can chew.

As it dived up against the wall, Berserker followed after with inhuman agility, running across the rocky surface and leaving small imprints on where her feet touched the stone. The reason was simply so she could avoid two pairs of Zelle fired from behind her. The beams of light also leaving dents on the wall, albeit missing their mark.

''Has to be near somewhere... But first to take care of the main threats.'' A somersault and she turned focus to the pursuers hot on her tail. Catching the doves in her hand, she squeezed until the Prana constructs gave out under the grip of Servant's high ranking strength. Nothing but two strands of brightly silver hair remained, now harmlessly falling to the ground along with Berserker.

Unsheathing the blade on her back mid-fall, the tall blonde did a hundred-eighty rotation and slashed at the two more light bullets now coming from left and right. ''Don't give your opponent a break... Heh, good she did pay attention.'' However, it would take so much more than that for a clean shot at her. ''If that's your best, then you may as well call it quits! This is too easy!'' Not a sound or a twine was heard to the goading.

There was a flutter of wings. Undetectable for regular hearing of course. The eagle was back and it just hoovered in one place. Watching, observing on a higher ground next to an opened window... Now she was the one being needled. ''So be it, then.'' Not known to turn back from a challenge, Berserker went to attack head on. Springing into the air like bouncing of a very rubbery floor, she threw her white blade with a black stripe at the awaiting eagle.

Her left hand remaining hidden behind her back, ready to draw her hidden surprise, that Illya has yet to know about, the blonde expected for another assault at her seemingly unguarded back. What she did not expect was, the bird to rush straight at the white makeshift projectile and splitting in two smaller avians second before impact. ''Woah, that's a new one...'' But still, even mid air she can deal with two more, no problemo.

''Did you also think about this?'' She could hear Illyasviel's voice that far from the inside, her primary weapon busting through the glass and high quality mortar and making to the other side. That line just oozed with smugness.

Further decomposing at first sight, the duo of eagles changed structure once again. Or more correctly, they just returned to a simpler design of a rope bindings. One for each of her hand. Knowing it won't last for nearly as long against Berserker's brute force, Illya send a final command to the last remaining, hidden Adler. This one was smaller, a testament of how much effort the small homunculus has put in making and sustaining the bright familiars. She must have planned this for quite some time.

Closing her eyes, Berserker had to smile at the ingenuity of the girl's scheme. She came a long way for sure. ''You are an outstanding Master, Illya... But I was never the one to concede. Not even in the face of defeat. You should know that my arms are not the most lethal weapon I have.'' Her amber slitted eyes opening, the golden blond now switched to her core and leg strength. From the crucified position, she made a half-backflip, muscles and tendons working full throttle to keep her steady.

And so with her upside-down, arms partly incapacitated she stared at the incoming projectile spearing his way towards her body. A perfect shot, no way of dodging. Had there only been another person bound, then maybe... ''Let me respond in kind! Fire Dragon's Bolide!'' Their voices and breaths pure Prana itself. Wild, untamed, dangerous... The fiery sphere, roughly the size of a normal person emerged to meet its counterpart.

The result was a resounding explosion as the fireball steadily consumed and bested the animal look alike missile. There was literally no questioning it. Dragon's Breath is a thing a few, if any, modern offensive Magecraft can top.

Gracefully landing on the ground, previously broken the improvised shackles, Berserker didn't turn to greet her approaching Master and the maid. The wisps of ardor began falling in her wake, making it seem like a flammable dew. ''Welp, I gotta give it to you, Illya. You put a good deal of sweat in it.''

Sighing a defeated breath, the little girl was sounding far from pleased with her achievement. ''It still wasn't enough to even nick you.'' She is not even certain if Berserker allowed her to bind her upper limbs on purpose.

Clicking her tongue some, the tall blonde looked down at her Master wiping her brow delicately with a handkerchief. ''Now don't be like that. You made me work my ass off to take out the birdies. Really, you caught me by surprise there for a second. I had to resort to using Dragon's Breath to get out of tight spot.'' She reached with her left hand to ruffle the silver princess's locks slowly.

''Hmmmh... you're probably right.'' Illya exhaled pleasantly, leaning against her Servant's thighs for support. She truly gave it her all to make her plan a success. But alas, Berserker is simply off this world. ''M 'xhausted...''

Chuckling at the slurr, the warrior woman picked the girl up with Illya trying to nestle into a more comfortable position. She is just the cutest little thing when being like this. ''Almost like...''

''I cannot possibly fathom the immense trust Lady Illyasviel has in you.'' Sella snipped from the side.

Not giving the maid/teacher a glance, Berserker strolled indoors. Sella, naturally following in tow. ''What did you expect, Smiley? I am the best Servant out there.''

The homunculus in purple-patterned clothing withheld a snort. ''It is safe to say that nobody has expected you. As you might know, the original Servant intended for Lady Illyasviel was the Greek hero Heracles.'' Unknown to her, the female Berserker started pulling all the knowledge the Grail could provide about said hero. ''The entire process of reigning over such force under the Mad Enhancement would have been extremely wearisome to my Lady.''

''Riiiigt, is there a point to this? Or are you complaining you got six feet, blonde chick who talks instead of an oversized, tight-lipped meathead?''

Not showing any perturbation, Sella kept on. ''Everything has its advantages and disadvantages. My point is, in a scenario where Heracles was summoned, my Lady would have been forced to endure lots of pain in order to gain full control of such beast. However, she would also gain an obedient Servant that knew to follow instructions given to him. You, on the other hand, are a mystery. A wildcard. You are Berserker that retains lucidity, but with that comes many factors that could put my Lady in danger.''

Stopping her stride which Berserker copied, the hall only resonated of her suspiciously analyzing tone. ''Your name, as well as the full extent of your capabilities remains largely hidden. Which is why I consider you an enigma and a loose cannon.''

If she wasn't holding Illya she would have added a clap to the snarky comeback, but it would have to do with one for now. ''Wow. That was profoundingly deep. Do you think me that stupid to put my Master in peril, least I fade before even doing what I came here to do? I know you and I don't see eye to eye, Smiley. You think me a swindling vixen that just leads Illya on as I go. Honestly, I don't think much of you than a glorified room service.''

Heading up the stairs to where her blade still resided embedded into the wall, she shifted the deep-sleeping princess in her arm. ''But Illya? She's a special girl, that much I could tell since she first summoned me. Now, there's also things about her that I am yet to understand,'' she peered one lazy half-lided eye at the maid, ''but one thing is for certain. Einzberns don't deserve her.''

Reaching the spot where her sword was pinned to the panel, Berserker pulled it ever so slowly not to rustle her dozing Master. To her annoyance, Sella wasn't quite yet finished with talk. The thing she came to realize about this Servant in a month and a half time it remained at the castle was the sheer overprotectiveness and, if she is not mistaken, nursing concern it shows to her Lady.

Far be it for someone like Illya to pick upon the subtle hints in the behaviour of her Servant. Sella on the other hand observed the signs carefully and came to a conclusion. ''Your loyalty to Lady Illyasviel is unquestionable.'' The maid narrowed her dull red eyes slightly. ''Although one would have to wonder, does said loyalty stems from your own ambitions... or is the affection you show around her the product of your past being a m...''

''...!'' Since her programming was not battle-oriented, Sella could do nothing but become a mute when the white weapon found itself below her throat. There was a subtle feeling of metal grazing her skin just next to the artery, but not enough to cause any harm yet.

As for Berserker, she stood sideways with right hand outstretched and head bowed just so her front locks were obscuring parts of her face and lips. ''...I would choose those next words carefully. You are so dangerously close to the edge you had no idea you've been walking on.'' She whispered the chilling threat, her tone lacking the usual blatancy or sass.

''Everything... all right?'' It was Leysritt that broke the tense atmosphere in the hall.

Feigning innocence in a well practiced fashion, the taller blonde swiftly looped her sword arm around Sella and brought her in a one-armed hug. ''Perfectly peachy, Liz. Me and ol' Smiley were just having some heart-to-hart here. No biggie.'' She grinned at the newly arrived maid, the whole scene passing away as old friends chatting. For extra insurance she squeezed Sella some more. ''Right?''

''Of-Of course...'' the homunculus in question grunted out with a forced tone.

The bustier of the two homunculi gave a simple blink and accepted the explanation. ''The bath is ready.'' She informed and looked at Sella pointedly this time. ''Should I call for repairmen crew... Smelly?''

Barely wiggling out of the Servant's clutch, the more refined of the maids cleared her clothes of any apparent creases. Truly, the influence of this woman... ''That would be for the best. In the meantime, I will assist our Lady...'' Cue when Berserker has already left to the bathroom. For the longest minute, she stared at an empty space Servant of Madness occupied seconds ago.

Insufferable, deplorable...

Progressing more than a hundred steps away from the maids, the draconian lady leisurely meandered to the bathing area. She could use a good scrubbing herself in all honesty. It would serve her good after the insinuations that nearly brought back painful memories. ''Way to ruin the fine day, Smiley... Good thing Liz had enough wit to set a clean up beforehand... Wait a minute...'' Not breaking her stride, Berserker's eyes widened in sudden realization. ''I don't know where the damn washroom is...'' She spoke to the currently empty corridor. ''Puta madre! (Motherfucker!)''

Sans the potential ghost, no one else was there to laugh at her misery. The vibrating bundle near her chest proved otherwise. ''That's how it's gonna be, huh?'' Illya picked the wrong moment to play possum.

''BUH!'' The little Einzbern gasped, gulping much needed oxygen after her nasal channels being impaired. ''B-Berserker, you tried to suffocate me in sleep?!''

Removing fingers from blocking the air supply in the nose, her Servant rolled eyes mockingly. ''Forgive me for interrupting the catnap, your highness.'' She said with all the fakeness in cordiality. ''Would you be so kind to point this ignorant thrall to the baths?'' Batting the thicker, yellow eyelashes, she threw in a polite request. ''Por favor?''

When Illya finished giving her Servant a lecture on how to wake her out of training hours, with Berserker saying she would think about it, they reached the designated room... It was the opposite direction of where Berserker originally headed... Sue her for not knowing the chateau like the back of her hand.

Surprise, surprise her favourite real homuculus was there waiting. If one were to look closely, they might have picked the way Sella tapped her foot slightly. ''Your punctuality is impeccable.'' The bonne holding towels in her hands, noted dryly.

Ohoh, so even prim and proper Sella can snark. In that case... ''Wassup Smiley!'' The blonde Servant greeted her. ''Just so you know, I was totally heading this way, but the thoughts of meeting you again kept making me do all the wrong turns... And then my Master and I got lost on the road of life.'' Berserker gave her erudite explanation with a close-eyed grin, her face almost going 'U' shape.

Sella's processing power and capacity could helplessly try and fail to decipher what she has just heard. It was a layered taunt, but how does someone make an excuse of 'getting lost on the road of life' in the fortress that was the Einzbern's home? Cannot compute, cannot compute... Solution, delete it from every facility and artificial gray matter...

Illya had to stifle any laughter that would immediately put her other teacher in lecture mode as she was put down and headed to strip. Praised be her Berserker when poking fun with all around her. She learned plenty to know not to make needless comment least she ends as a victim. The rest on the other hand can steadily be roasted by her Servant's sharp-tongueness. The habit of entertainment from watching said show was tenderly being nurtured...

''Nice scrubbing chamber you got here. Love the archaic style.'' The warrior woman whistled as she observed the architecture of the capacious, steamy room. This is more like a public bathouse than anything. Wonders of being from an old money...

''It's astounding to hear you in awe out of battle-concerning stuff.'' With the last ruffle of clothes hitting the ground, the Einzbern princess emerged from the dressing compartment. Traces of tire were yet to leave her face, but the late afternoon dip might be just the thing she required. A nice, warm, relaxing bath... ''Ahhhhhhhhh...'' She gave a long satisfying moan after submerging from the stairs of the large pool-tub.

When on the subject of battle. ''Speaking of, you should dematerialize for Lady Illyasviel's faster Mana recovery.'' The still present personal maid suggested from standing near the tub, back turned from the Servant. When will she learn that you don't rib the dragon? Her answer was the sound similar to zipper being pulled...

''Cannonball!'' The dragon merely burns you in return! Or in this instance, making you skin-wet with a mighty splash!

''Wuahh!'' Illya yelped after the mini-tsunami happened.

''Pffft! What in the-?!'' Sella sputtered, her robes clinging to her and turning her visage into that of a shrunken, moist paper.

Emerging from the water post skinny dipping, Berserker groaned. ''Shit, this is shoal...'' getting the excess hair from her face with a flourish, she rubbed her bum, ''ouch, think I busted my ass?'' Tapping the stone underneath, she sighed in relief. ''Kay, the floor's still whole, no need to panic people.'' That would be hard to find an excuse...

''Are-Are you out of your mind?! The bath is not meant for you!'' The wet maid fummed, the steam rising from her form, making it look like someone put the cold water on a heated object... Comparison is dangerously close... ''My Lady... Huh?''

''Bwahahahha!'' There was no support from the mistress, because she was too busy enjoying life's greatest wonder. Humor. ''Y-Y-You lo-haha-k like a-hah-ah-ah seawee-ha-d!'' She pointed finger at her Servant. True to her words, the darkening of the Servant's locks and the sheer disarray it now took form reminded Illya vaguely of those pictures on oceanography and marine life.

Sella turned sharply to the girl by the edge. ''My Lady you shouldn't laugh so hard, you might unintentionally swallow water.'' She chided the older, child-like homunculus. A lot good that did to her...

''Quit being a killjoy, Smiley. You stand there like a smokin' hot wet nurse!'' The dam was further expanded by that quip.

Illya stopped for a moment and turned her head to look at Sella. Hot smoke? Water? Wet maid... Nurse? ''Oh... OHH!'' ''MWWWWAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH!'' The bawling was so fierce that her eyes stung with unshed tears, the stomach started aching and mouth so much stretched it hurt... Yet she could do nought to actually stop...

This is what Leysritt came upon after directing a reparation homunculi to their job for today. ''Joint wash-up?'' The bustier of the two models inquired her counterpart. The response was only a twitch... Mistress was faintly giggling and together with her Servant they floated aimlessly in the large mass of water.

''Hey Liz, you made it! C'mon and hop in with us!'' She raised Illya above the water and held her with flat palms while the girl stretched, mimicking the star. ''How about it, Master? Will reward loyal service by allowing them a moment recess?''

Feeling too lazy to even mull over the answer, the little girl waved her hand idly. ''Mmhhm, sure, fine... I'll permit it... Now down.''

The non-combative homunculus was about to protest, when she witnessed that Leysritt was already half naked. ''You cannot possibly be thinking of doing it.'' She gaped at the short haired maid.

The less eloquent Leysritt paused and shrugged. ''Lady gave us orders...'' Turning her dull orbs at the still fully clothed Sella, she started slowly approaching her. The Master-Servant duo watched for what happens next. ''Time for cleansing... Smelly.''

''W-Wai-!'' 'Smelly' stood no chance as the stronger bonne manhandled her and forcefully brought her in the water. Another round of laughter was inevitable.

...

''See? Isn't it better this way?''

''...'' Sella only glared at the culprit while Leysritt was washing her longer hair. She won't be baited into the conversation with that women this time around.

''I completely agree with you! What can top a nice get together of girls in a big, private bathroom?''

''...''

''Exactly!''

While Berserker was doing her 'talk-friendly on a daily basis' spiel, Illya, now more awake and rested than earlier was oddly silent. Why you ask? Well, she was trying and failing to decide on how to approach on a particular topic. Of course, it included her Servant who was now sitting on the edge of the tub, one leg crossed over the other which remained sunken.

The thing that drew little girl's attention was the body of her Servant. What was so special about it? While she new that Berserker had an exceptional build for a female, anyone could see that even when she was dressed, this was the first time she has seen her in the nude. Defined muscles on arms, legs, back and the outline of her abdominal six-pack truly marked her as someone who took physical part of her life extremely seriously.

But what caught most interest was that... tattoo? If it could be called as such. Apparently the three-pointed crimson mark on her cheek was merely the part of a grander design. It ran all the way down her neck, twisting around the right arm and ending with a... spiked line? The rest spread across the right half of Berserker's back and front parts of the stomach, slithering to the lower calf. What's more, the left side was virtually unblemished. Save for the two spots: a horizontal scar on the navel and a black blotch on her left ankle she never got a proper glimpse of.

Coupled with the fact that she knows next to nothing about her Servant's history, even the true name. Somewhat a naive girl at times, Illya was naturally always happy when a person treated her kindly. Berserker was doing the role quite good. Sure she had a few quirks... Okay, maybe more than few, but she didn't give Illya any reason to not treat her as a close friend... family... ''Family... like... like...'' Unhappy memories started flooding her mind. Of what was taken from her... Of that dream she had... Broken promises... Traitor! Murderer!

''Huh?'' She was jolted from the brooding by a hand shaking her left shoulder. ''Wha...?'' She followed the strong limb to the slitted eyes of warm amber colour, like a furnace fire...

''I called you three times and you didn't answer... I'm hurt, you know.'' The blonde spoke with a subdued tone than her regular one. ''What's been eating you?''

Blinking at her reflection in the water, Illya didn't raise her head when asking the question. ''When you have dreams that feel so real, do you always listen to what they tell you?''

The Servant let out a short, ponderous hum. ''That would depend on the dream. Mostly I don't even recall what goes in the never-never land when I wake up. Dreams that do stay etched in your memory... must be pretty strong to leave a lasting impression.'' The woman summed it. Illya wouldn't ask if she wasn't seriously bumped about it. Taking the part of a listener, Berserker prodded further to find the gist of the problem. ''So, tell your partner about whatever bedbug or incubus bothers you, and I'll grill them to death!''

Chuckling a little helplessly, Illya re-positioned herself unconsciously next to the dragoness. It simply felt... right. Berserker said nothing against it, and patiently waited for Illya to sort her thoughts before telling her. ''My coming to this world was different than the rest of homunculi,'' she began, ''rather than cultivated and created, I was born of my mother... and another man.'' No one missed how she forced that word from her mouth. Like it was something filthy never to be tasted anew.

''That's why you have such a distinctive scent. More human than artificial.'' The blonde Berserker noted, now connecting some dots. ''Go on.'' She encouraged.

Illya until now wasn't aware that her Servant's nose could pick such varieties. Sure, she knew of the ability, but not the exact extent of its potency. Putting it aside for now, she followed on the advice. ''You know how the last war eleven years ago was a disaster? No one won, and most participants were never heard of...'' Clenching her small fist tightly enough to go numb, she got that look again which made her exude hatred unnatural for someone of her appearance and stature. ''Along with the Einzbern's competitors. My parents.''

Now this was news Berserker wasn't expecting. She hid it well enough, but it came as a shocking turn of event. Plenty more questions started popping up, but Illya wasn't finished yet. ''They promised... he promised me everything would be fine, that he would return for me no matter what!'' Tears of sadness couldn't be held back as they slowly came out of her eyes. ''He killed her! He killed mama! *hic* And then he left us, me to the mercy of wolves!'' Abruptly standing, she rubbed her eyes furiously to rid of the pesky sensation, but it did no good. ''I will never forgive him... That is why we are going to War, to cut loose ends and win!''

If Berserker was holding to the edge it might have cracked under massive duress. This girl... What were the odds? Heaving a sigh, she considered the next words carefully. In the volatile state Illya was right now, the slightest of missteps could prove fatal. ''You want to kill him. Your father.'' A statement more than an inquiry.

''If that were only possible.'' The orphaned homunculus stated, her Servant raised a thin yellow brow in return. Turning to the seated blonde, salty liquid still freely falling. ''He died years ago... But the legacy he has fathered lives on,'' with renewed clench of her hands her face morphed into an ugly sneer, ''A boy... A boy that took my place... His blood will serve in Kiritsugu's stead. When we arrive in Fuyuki, he will be the first to die.''

There was so much deviation from the rules her it wasn't even funny. ''We are to take down a boy, who might not be an opposing Master for all we know. This is seriously close to getting sidetracked from the rules of engagement, Illya.''

Eyes wide in shock from Berserker's defiance, the silver Master directed her ire at the Servant. ''You are saying you won't fight for me?''

Berserker shook her head and began to clarify her previous declaration. ''Don't jump to conclusions, I never said that. What I meant was, I am not going to execute someone who has nothing to do with Holy Grail War.''

See, this is where Sella's earlier run down comes to effectuation. With Heracles it would have most likely been a simple command... A brief wave of a hand... A point of a finger. With the Berserker that is now, however... ''And if I told you that he is in fact one of the seven Masters?'' Maybe she was grasping for imaginary straws here, but at the same time the possibility is still there. Normally the Grail prioritizes Three Founding Families, each with one representative. Another three are aspiring Magus with potential, usually from Mage's Association and a rare case of a Wild Card Master.

Requirement for a person to become a Master is to have Magic Circuits. There is just no way that Kiritsugu hasn't taught the boy even an ounce of Magecraft. In all likehood it's a gamble, but not unfeasible. Problem is, Berserker didn't know that, and it would be best if she was kept in the dark about the little fact.

''Then I will act accordingly and if need be, deal the death blow.'' Berserker answered without missing a beat.

Again with curves like 'need be'. For now, Illya would accept it. If her suspicions turn to be truth, then contingency plan was necessary. She will ponder it later, right now all she wants is to finish and go to bed early. This day was more exhausting in her role as a Master. ''We are done. Let's get out.''

As they dried from the mostly successful social event, Berserker was left in a sour mood while she adjusted her suit. She was dead serious when she said about not harming the non-participants of the war. It was, technically, a localized happening and involving the rest of the populous who have nothing whatsoever to do with it, nor are aware of what could be transpiring just behind the corner... It was beneath her honour.

But her Master's agenda will prove to be troublesome. She didn't know enough about the girl's parents to have any say, despite once having a similar hurdle in her life. One thing is certain, the path that Illya wanted to walk, or was already walking is paved with death. Once you meet death, once you get eerily familiar with the feeling... There's no turning back for it remains glued to your very self.

''You know Illya,'' the one called stopped dressing mid-way, ''vengeance is like a double-edged sword. Once you've done the deed, try not to look back after finishing the job. It might leave more questions than answers.'' And having all that on someone's mind could potentially shatter it under its enormous weight.

''Are you speaking from experience?'' The small Master asked in turn, now dried and fully clothed.

''Not quite, but...'' Gazing at her right palm with a forlorn expression she said. ''You'll have to trust me on this.''

Illya sniffed some and looked at her side dejectedly. ''That's just it... Trust...'' Her voice was quiet, but she Berserker could pick it all without hinder. ''You keep telling me all that, yet do you trust me at all?''

''What do...'' But the white princess wasn't finished there.

''How can you expect me, your partner, to place faith in your words and promises? You heard my story, you know about our history... But I know nothing, if anything about you. Not the class or your powers, but you. The woman that is behind the Servant Berserker.'' In a an almost pleading voice she let out. ''Tell me, how?''

This part of Illyasviel von Einzbern that is largely human... That it has a soul which can laugh with happiness or weep in misery. Not programmed or carrying out written directives. She really is one special girl. ''The stumbling block, huh...'' Before Illya could asked what she meant, Berserker chuckled ruefully. ''Sorry, sorry... It's just, we may have more in common than I thought. Come along, and we'll try to work out the details.''

Pursing her lips, the girl could merely skip after her Servant. Her anxiousness coupled with curiosity on finding new, interesting particulars on her partner were unbearably irritable. Sella's warning to take it easy minutes before sleep came as secondary concern.

''And Illya,'' a fanged grin Berserker was sporting did nothing to deter the first Master of the war, for she knew there was no threat or malice behind it, ''from now on call me... Mari.''

Perched on one of her favourite places that were the strong shoulders, the girl had to match the smile. In a more dignified fashion, of course.

Later at night, deep in her slumber, Illya would come to know parts of the reason her Servant decided not to fully share her personal history.

Children were crying... Orphans were embraced with their new foster families... Only one girl, with hope in her eyes remained waiting. Forever waiting. It never came, the salvation...

''Why?'' The voice was even more delicate than what will become in the future...

Why was there someone for every person but her? Why was she left out of the family? She didn't do anything wrong, she knew that! It wasn't her fault! So why?! ''I'm sorry...''

Two men wearing a finely cut robes meant for priests were watching the small blonde sitting at the pier, looking at the vast ocean spreading beyond...

''Una pequeña? (A little girl?)'' The shorter one turned to the caretaker, an older woman. ''Es esto una broma?! (Is this a joke?!)'' He tried to tower intimidatingly over the nervous wreck. They called them to this filthy place for a six year old?!

The old lady tried to reason with them as much as possible. ''Por favor, tienes que entender. Nadie quiere adoptar ella. (Please, you have to understand. Nobody wants to adopt her.)'' She leaned in and spoke with a hushed tone. ''Dicen que ella es... maldecida. Por favor llevarla lejos de aquí. La ciudad cierra mi orfanato. Ten piedad! (It is said that she is... cursed. Please take her away from here. The town will close my orphanage. Have mercy!)'' Falling to her knees she begged the man.

The man didn't look convinced at all. ''Tal vez deberían. (Maybe they should.)'' Trying to get his companion's attention only to find him crouching near the girl. ''O-Oye...''

Meanwhile the little lass was surprised at the man that was scrutinizing her. ''Puede entenderme? (Can you understand me?)'' She suppressed a wince, for the language was spoken at her old home not as often as another. Other children tended to mix them in conversation, but she was less proficient.

''Un poco... Sí. (A little... Yes.)'' She uttered shyly, not lifting her head to meet his eyes.

He shook his head in disappointment. As expected from her alleged background. ''And now?'' This time, she nodded faster. ''We would like to adopt you. The clergy of our temple. We have many children there as well.''

And why would a child who didn't even know the meaning of 'clergy' refuse? She would have people to call family again! Maybe when old enough they would let her wear one of those shiny necklaces with the sand bulbs! She forgot the name of it.

...

Pariah of her family...

A bastard that came out of wedlock...

Her sin, taking her mother's life upon birth, an action she had no control over...

Would rise to become one of the most prominent figures of her homeland, a future pioneer of the Stars...

Only to fall, her wings cut short, betrayed by those she dared call allies and comrades...

...

''They should have never underestimated one's will for living...'' It was a male voice that spoke...

Blazing eyes snapped open... The majestic creature lifted its long, scaly neck pointing the maw towards the heavens...

Mighty jaws opening... The sheer heat it was emanating akin to that from the depths of the planet's core... An untamed force of nature feared by many, descending from legends...

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!" And I must roar...


Forgot how tiring it was... I tried to finish this in one day, but you know, life happened. So here it is, the fourth chapter and the longest one for now. The scenes I sure you are all eagerly expecting, the first day of HGW, will happen in sixth chapter that much I can promise you.

What we had here was a deeper look on our unusual Servants not belonging to the Nasu Earth's history. Saber you already know who he is if you read my other fic, so I won't be wasting my breath explaining him in these notes. Berserker on the other hand... Well good luck with that. I wanted to include Caster, but couldn't really without making this chapter twice as large... yeah, I don't need that. Hopefully she comes in the next chapter (no, really) along with our other band of misfits.

We had a very first compromising incident here (poor Saber and Jeanne) and a some Illya and Berserker heart-to-heart... Just not in a conventional, sappy way. Problems for everyone all around. Servants and Masters still not on a full level of agreement, but cordial enough to be partners... For now maybe...

Axel says: See ya' next time! Stay safe and enjoy life!


Now for the Guest Review Section (wish you guys would have accounts, but I'm not pushing or anything):

Dragon: I am glad you find it interesting. Keep reading, things might yet surprise you.

E.N.D: Thank you! Much appreciate it! It wasn't that hard to guess I bet. She will stir this crazy pot that is Fifth Holy Grail War for sure!

Note to particular flamer from the first chapter (you know who you are): I'm still waiting for response from the mails I sent to your quite balant and rude comment. If only you included an explanation behind those three simple words, I might have found it worthy of contemplation. Now, I could care less. I have zero time to dedicate to haters with no backbone and enough brain cells to think of a more articulate reply.