Author's Notes:

Here we go then. I can't stop writing. I guess getting a day off from work is bad for me. This will be the last scene of serious Saber fighting for a bit, so I decided to make it as descriptive of the fight as I could. Ended up saving a fair bit of the reminiscing for the time between the end of the fight and when Shirou finds her in the dojo. That bit's not done by the way, and yes, I guess the end of this chapter is a tad corny, but I think it flows right into the next one I am writing.

Anyways, here's comes the hack and slash. Eat up, and please R & R.

Momentarily, I am forced downward, the wind knocked out of my lungs, as our blades clash. Finally, I deflect, giving myself a mere moment to leap over his next swing. Immediately, I decide that my best option was dodging the blows, considering how much in jarred my body to have them clash. Still, every now and then, I am forced to block, and my two arms together barely have the strength to match his one. Where it was my strength that gave me the edge in the battle with Lancer, here I would have to lean on my speed.

I had to get him moving, turning, twisting. It is much easier to topple a large man in motion than one standing still. Silently ducking another sword swing, I implement this strategy, rushing past the monster's left leg and his twisting sword arm towards…An iron pole. Ugh…I'm trying not to think about that here. I use my momentum to run up it with magical ease, then push off as he tries to hack it down, landing behind him. But I barely have my feet set before I have to jump backwards again, getting my hands on an iron bar jutting out. I help myself onto the wires, carefully moving my blade so that it doesn't cut them.

Dashing along them, I realize getting myself caught in straight line motion was a mistake, what with the Berserker's longer strides. Still, after trading blows, I realize what had to be done. Beating Berserker blade to blade would take too much of my magical energy, and without a source to replenish it from…As he chops through the wires, I leap from that set to the on across the street, then back again, momentarily confusing him, and meanwhile pushing ever onward.

Finally, I land on my steel sabatons, my tassets whirling about my thighs, knees bent, ready to strike upward and slay the Master. But this was Ilya von Einzbern, the child of a friend who nursed my wounds, cared for me and steadied me when I was shaken. How could a Knight do this to her? How could do the King of Knights do this? I cannot. I have hurt enough of those who cared for me out of duty for one lifetime. The last Berserker reminded me of that.

I straighten with a tight lipped frown, only one hand on my blade. I do not know what I hoped to achieve with that…Maybe show her I did not intend to threaten her? If that was the case, I failed. She pouts, and I wonder if it is a flicker of recognition, or just hostility. For a moment, I am distracted.

I barely have time to bring up my blade and protect myself, and my feet are not set for the impact. I grunt my dismay as I lose my footing. Chips of stone and flakes of iron get tangled in my hair, as I crunch into one of the walls, my sword cutting at one of the iron poles beside me. Shirou cries my name in alarm yet another time, and this time, I must agree he has good reason to.

My head rings, hearing Ilya's high pitched voice cheer her Berserker on…as if he needed the support. I push up from my knees, back onto my feet, with the help of my blade, and give my foe what I hoped was a defiant look. I will not be so easy to 'finish off' as Ilya hopes. Biding my time, I wait for the Berserker to bring down his sword, shattering the earth, before I leap up and summon the mana I need for Invisible Air, getting a firm grip on Excalibur's hilt with both of my gauntlets, and extending it as far back as I could go. Crying out, I unleash as hard a blast of air as I could at impact, though the brute parries, deflecting some of the wind back in my face, making my hair whip around my ears.

Somersaulting backwards, I realize something gave in my last attack. A shot of pain riddles my torso and I fall to one knee just after I land, requiring one hand to put pressure back on my breastplate. The wound had opened…I was in trouble. Again, my name is called out, for all that good that would do. I needed to come up with something else. Gritting my teeth, I focus on the visage of this monster…If only I was at the fullest of my strength...I hear my Master plead me to retreat, and I turn to see him rushing towards me. Thankfully, Tohsaka holds him back…and then, buys me time to think? If I get out of this one, I really would have to thank her. But, between the pain in my side and Shirou's repeated pleas for a withdrawal, I cannot plan. I just settle on my old plan, the hard part being trying to make it past him again. This time, there would be no hesitation with Ilya. She does not even recognize me, does she?

I failed to accelerate fast enough and his blade finally catches me with my sword down. In a blink of an eye, I was hurtling backwards, and I could not feel anything below my waist. His mighty sword had ripped into my flank and I bite down even harder, trying to keep my eyes focused on my foe, despite a small part of me repeating in the back of my head that I was done.

My vision darkens, and I cry out in pain as my lower back, soaked in blood, hits the pavement, then, rolling over as my arms flailed wildly, my forehead cracks against it as my next groan is muffled by the cement. I do not even want to look down, at my gown, feeling a pool of blood forming…Distantly, I hear my alias being yelled once more.

I crane my neck up, and my green eyes could not even get my foe in focus. Everything was blurred red, and I realized blood was dripping from my scalp. I hear Shirou's footsteps, and raise my blooded gauntlet up to signal him to back off. Raising Excalibur up, I try to use it to support myself and rise, back to my feet. My body shudders as each aching limb and muscle is forced to move solely by my will, causing more blood to pour out of my wounds. I close my eyes and push myself even further, getting one knee off the ground. But that was as far as I got. Between maintaining my armour and my sword's invisibility, I just had nothing left.

My left flank burns, my shoulder aches, my head throbs, but I focus solely on the blood dripping down my blade. It seems the only blood it shall drink this war will be mine. My breathing is ragged and heavy, as I try to hold back tears, knowing I had failed again…failed my Master…failed Britain…failed in my promises. I imagine it is my pride pouring from my wounds, not my blood.

Ilya's voice makes my side ache even more. A friend's child…I guess betrayal has always been my destiny. A King is ever lonely. She tells us all the identity of my foe, and if I had the strength to care, I would have disagreed with Ilya's assessment. My blade could match the legendary Heracles…if only I had the energy to summon it. A girl knight, by herself, however, would indeed be overwhelmed. Ilya then assesses my regenerative abilities, and gives the final orders to finish me off. An execution, how fitting.

I cannot regenerate in time. I keep my head bowed, and arms bent. My blonde hair is already bound up, and will not be in the way. The monster will have a clean stroke. Maybe I deserve this, for all my sins…

"Leave her alone!" That was Shirou's voice…and getting closer.

I look up, startled, and immediately regret the pain it brings my head. I turn towards the sound, and gape as I realized how close he was. My eyes could focus now, focus upon him, and then I brace myself for the impact of him falling upon me. Surprisingly, his touch is light, and I realize this is the first time he has ever truly held me. But instead of pushing me further down, he pulls me up. My right arm is knocked to one side as I am helpless to resist. And even if I did have my strength, I was too confused by all that was happening.

He tosses me to the ground, out of the sword's reach. I hear the sickening crunch, and am thankful that I did not see it. Was that how it sounded when I got hit? On my knees, I ignore my agony, and I turn towards my Master. Shirou! Our roles are reversed, and I find I am the one gaping and crying out his name, stunned as I was. I survey his body, almost certain the wound was fatal. If so, I would vanish anyways. Why did he have to suffer the torment I was supposed to bear alone? It would be another weight on my mind, when I return to the Throne of Heroes, and then, my body, to rest…

Everyone else was stunned too, and when I look up, I see Ilya, and I glare at her with uninhibited rage. I was too weak to do more. My mind faintly registers Ilya leaving, then Tohsaka and Ilya trading barbs, and finally, Tohsaka cursing Shirou for saving me. Saving me! The concept was almost ridiculous.

Slowly, I start to crawl over to the body, wondering how I had not faded yet. That meant he lived…I get rid of my blade to give myself more energy, when I feel I am faltering, and I succeed in giving myself enough to collapse on top of him. This could not get more humbling, could it? I dispel my armour for even more strength, leaving myself with the bloodied blue and white gown. Moving myself around, I wrap my arms around his body, and giving an agonized cry, force myself to stand. It takes me two tries before I succeed, and I am afraid my blood is already mingling with his, and splattering over each other's clothes.

It is all I can do to stay upright, my Master in my arms. I feel a soft hand on my shoulder, and I turn to face a worried Tohsaka. But the next word she says set my heart racing…"Archer."

My injured foe from that earlier encounter reappears, glaring daggers at me. Despite that, I am in a far weaker state than he is. I try to concentrate on resummoning my armour, but it is no use. A single arrow, and I would be finished. What Tohsaka does next, however, astonishes me.

"I'll take him home. Archer, escort Saber back, will you. She's hurt, so be gentle with her waist." Alright, maybe it could get more humbling after all...

Shirou is taken from my grasp, and Toshaka bears him gently home. My knees weaken but Archer grabs my arms, and keeps me from falling. I do not know why, but that touch feels so familiar. He airs my sentiments for me…or well, our sentiments are the same, "What is this? Are we to cuddle our foes into submission?"

"Saber may have acted to protect Shirou, but in the same act, I was protected, while you were injured."

"Really? It seems to me that Ilya girl's whims is what saved you."

"Just…help her." Tohsaka finishes there conversation. He takes my arm around his neck and allows me to stagger alongside him. The rest of the trip to Shirou's home is a blur, though I distinctly remember Archer studying the curves of my bodice at some point along the way…and getting rebuked by Tohsaka for it.

I collapse into a chair as Tohsaka gives detailed instructions to Archer for where to get a few sets of clean clothing in my size to replace my currently ruined combat garb. As he leaves, she then turns to me, holding out bandages. I shake my head and point to Shirou, whose wounds were still bleeding. My body always cured injuries from the outside in, and while they still hobbled me and sapped my strength, the cuts I received had now sealed.

Lapsing in and out of consciousness, I find myself in a room with a futon laid down, and change into the simple set of clothes I was given, a white top and a teal skirt. Tucking myself in, I fall asleep and do something rare.

I dream…