Giselle woke the next morning with a throbbing headache. She… she couldn't remember anything. She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, wishing the throbbing would stop. She felt dizzy and delirious as well. "Oh god." She muttered, reaching to the bedside table without opening her eyes and digging around for the painkillers she kept there. She was too pained to even go to get a glass of water, so she took them dry, and then lay down and pulled the blanket over her head, groaning in pain. That's when she realized, she still had to go to work today. Giselle whimpered, then made up her mind, reaching over for her phone, and dialing her office's number. She was too sick to come in today. As the phone rang, she caught sight of Robin across the room, staring at her reproachfully. "What?" She asked him with a disgruntled tone.
"You are a disgrace." He spoke quietly, then turned his back on her.
"What did I do?" Giselle quipped back.
"What did you do?! Where do I start?!" Robin gave her a disgusted look.
At that moment, the phone on the other line gave a click, signifying that it had been answered.
Giselle held up a finger, as if to say, "Hold that thought." "Yes? Hello, this is Giselle, I'm sorry, I need to call in sick-" Her voice trailed off as a faint whispering in some kind of ancient language was heard on the other line. For a moment, she was confused, then, her eyes glazed over, and she answered in a dull monotone, "Yes, of course." She dropped the phone on the bed, not even bothering to turn it off.
A new voice echoed through the speakers. "Hello? Who's there? Excuse me? Who's calling? Is anyone there?" Giselle pushed the blankets aside, slowly standing, revealing herself to be fully clothed, as if she had not even bothered to undress the night before. She picked up a trench coat from the coat rack on the wall, throwing it about her shoulders and pulling it on with a flourish, despite her oddly mechanical movements. She didn't even look around the room to see if her servants were present. Without further explanation, she said, "Let's go." She took three slow steps forward, then pushed open her window, stepped out onto the balcony, and climbed onto the railing. Without looking down, she jumped, falling two stories to the ground and landing on all fours with a terrifying crushing sound. As she leapt into the air again, a small crater like indent could be seen where she had landed. Mid leap, she disappeared for a split second, then reappeared 10 feet to the right, perched on the top edge of a neighboring roof, her coat fluttering about her.
Kane sat on his bed near his two servants, pondering the fight with the Berserker's master two days previously. Before him were spread sheets and sheets of paper, each detailing all the info they knew on this so called, "Granny". "It doesn't make sense." He said to the room at large for what was probably nearing the millionth time. "Everything here points to her being from a lowborn, weak, mage family. Apparently their blood was so diluted by this point in time that the only thing they were known for was their excellent green thumb. No new mage blood has been introduced for over one hundred years, and according to everything I can find on her, 'Margaret Wells' hasn't done anything magic related or enhancing her entire life."
Diarmuid, who was sitting cross legged on the opposite end of the bed, pressed his thumb to his lips. "On another note, did anything about that fight seem overly clean cut to you? Almost as if she lost the Berserkers on purpose? As if she knew she would be facing four mages instead of two?"
Cu Chulainn leaned over Kane's shoulder, unwittingly making the younger man slightly uncomfortable. "Yes, and did you notice how Saika's death opened up the position of the master of the Casters within minutes of Ol' Marge losing the Berserkers?"
"And yet," Kane continued, trying to ignore the body heat rolling off of Cu Chulainn in waves, "When Saika was killed, I didn't sense a rise in mana output by Margaret. Almost as if Saika was…"
"Assassinated." Diarmuid finished his sentence.
"That could be…" Cu Chulainn returned, suddenly noticing the effect he was having on Kane and keeping his oblivious pretense as he leaned closer to the boy. "But haven't we faced Assassin before? If he could use arrows, why didn't he just shoot us then?"
Diarmuid's eyes widened. "Do you think perhaps we are also facing Archer?"
"That could be," Cu Chulainn continued "Or perhaps Assassin just WANTS us to think we're also facing Archer."
Kane had lost track of the conversation, and was now completely red in the face.
Diarmuid, oblivious to Cu Chulainn's antics, blinked at him. "Kane, are you alright?"
"You're squishing me." Kane said to Cu Chulainn in a very tiny voice.
Cu Chulainn burst out into peals of raucous laughter. "You're fun." He chuckled, giving Kane a light shove before removing himself from the boy's space bubble.
Assassin's master sat on a boulder near the back of the cave she shared with the two servants. In her hands was a small, gold picture frame, and in the frame, was a picture of a young man with light brown hair and green eyes. "He was so beautiful, back then." She said quietly. Tracing the neckline of his blue school uniform with a fingertip.
The animal like servant crawled toward her. "Beautiful? What is beautiful?" It said in its gurgling tone.
The girl answered slowly. "Sometimes, humans are. It's when you see something, and that something makes you want to smile. Sometimes, that something makes you feel like your heart is full of sunshine."
"I am not beautiful." The creature gurgled, almost sadly. "I am a monster."
The girl smiled, and reached up, ruffling the creatures puffy mop of black hair. "So am I, Johnny, so am I."
"Meeeeeeee?" Her second servant said, in its child like, whispering tone.
The girl laughed softly. "Yes, and you, Jack."
Damascus scrubbed away at last night's dishes. He had found them that morning, and it was clear that no one had done them after he'd gone to his room for the night. It was early, the sun had just breached the horizon moments ago, but he expected his sisters would soon be readying themselves for school.
He paused in his scrubbing, realizing his servants hadn't checked in with him that morning like they normally would. Concerned, he reached out with his magic. Upon being able to sense them both not too far away, he relaxed. If there was trouble, they would have warned him. Perhaps they had just decided he needed space. He had never been all that kind to him, he supposed. He rinsed the dish in his hands. Maybe he should start being kinder. After all, they did work very well as a team, and had even saved Abeytu's life, and looked out for Damascus' family, and his ally, Kane, even though Damascus himself was the only being they were required to protect.
Boudica and Achilles lay in a field a bit away from Damascus' house. Close enough to sense if something was amiss, but far enough to be mostly alone. "I didn't think I would ever see you again." Boudica's voice was soft.
Achilles ran his fingers through her fiery copper hair. "Fate is a cruel mistress. That we would be cast to live in different times, and then, when we could have the chance to see each other, placing us both as the rider class…"
Some time in the distant future, the Holy Grail had caused an anomaly in time, allowing the two servants to meet each other on earth for the first time. Neither had thought that they would see the other again, since rules normally applied that only one of each class could be summoned at a time, and both of them were Riders.
"But let's not fret about it. We're here. We have today. It's more than I ever thought I'd get." He smiled, then leaned down with a mischievous glint in his eye and buried his face in Boudica's chest. The woman laughed, bringing her hands up to push him away. Their eyes met, and they shared a smile, and then a kiss, which all too quickly became a tangle of limbs and lopsided armor.
The taller Archer sat with his back to a brick wall. On the other side of the wall, Mordred stood, examining the sword in his hand. "Are you sure you won't join us?" The Archer said. "Mordred… The Traitor. Surely you would fit right in with our crowd."
Mordred curled a lip. "I have no desire to be lumped in with your skulking ilk, Helsing."
Van Helsing chuckled. "Well, clearly, you were intrigued by the prospect, or you wouldn't have accepted my invitation."
"Invitation?" Mordred scoffed. "It is plain and simple huntsman, I came here to kill you."
"Kill me? Ah, but we're having so much fun."
"Isn't this a bit out of character for you Helsing? You sought to rip that monster Dracula to pieces, and yet here you are, allying yourself with those monsters."
Helsing laughed. "Ah but this is different, Mordred, these monsters didn't touch my woman."
"I'm somewhat jealous, you know. You're seen as the hero, and yet, you were no better than the monster. I am always known as the traitor. Possibly one of the most infamous traitors in all of ancient myth. And yet no one stopped to wonder what my mother did to me."
"Morgana?"
"Morgana is my Aunt. My mother is Morgause. See? Humanity was so deluded by my father's shining light, that they don't even remember who my mother was. Let alone what she raised me to believe. They call me a Traitor. But do they remember Uther? How he killed my mother's father, because he was blinded by the beauty of his best friend's wife?"
Helsing interrupted his rant. "You're pretty worked up about this."
Mordred was silent for a time. "Was that all you wanted from me?"
"Perhaps…" Helsing stated. "But you didn't accept my offer. And now you know of our plans. The best move would be to kill you right here and now."
Mordred tensed. "I'd like to see you try, huntsman."
Helsing laughed again. "Very well. But perhaps another day. For now, I at least know what you are doing to your master, and partner saber. That's enough for me. Even if you are not officially on our side. You are still, a very valuable playing piece."
"Thank you, I guess." Mordred replied.
"You're welcome." Helsing shot back. "Until we meet again, sir Knight." And with a dramatic whoosh of his cloak, he was gone.