A / N: I've changed the story and its pacing as well as included additional POVs. These include, but are not limited to: Francesca Prelati, Archer, and Caster. Therefore, I've deleted the old, unedited chapters.


Chapter 6

Hands on her hips, sleeves rolled up, striped down to her black-collared dress and feet bare, Liesel assessed what remained of the summoning chamber now that most of the rubble was cleared away.

The only things left to do required nothing more than a simple broom to sweep away and wiping a grimy hand on her forehead and turning her attention up to the enormous hole in the chamber ceiling, sunlight shone down from it, spotlighting the incantation circle permanently seared into the floor. It still steamed, days old, and she watched as Sofine meticulously guided her broom around it, a pile of burnt bristles and brooms in the corner of the chamber. Hopefully it would cool down soon as they only had so many brooms to spare.

A blackened stain was visible in the incantation circle's center.

… Ilseviel had also been damaged.

Acting as a conduit for the pillar of light that was "the Servant answering it summons", Ilseviel borne burns over her entire body from what the Ancestor had called "a harmless bout of the Servant's wrath". A small price to pay for victory, she said, and, of Ilseviel's burns, one stood out: an ugly crimson brand beneath her right eye. Undoubtedly her three Command Spells. Meaning the ritual had been a success, but, not without consequence, just as she'd thought. Which, begged the question: how many of these "small prices" would they have to pay, before the War's end?

Before you stands Angra Mainyu, All the World's Evil, as he truly is—

That night, after hearing those words, Liesel had thought him to be a thing of shadow, disaster, and death like the one who'd summoned him, though he was the embodiment of all that was wrong with the world in a very different fashion.

Though he may be merely a boy, inside him is a rage rampant and wild—

… An unfortunate soul sacrificed by his people for the evil he was said to bore, chosen as the one to carry all the evil in the world in his heart because of their simple-minded beliefs, cleansed so that they might not suffer their God's fury. An insignificant, pitiful, and hate-filled youth who wanted one and only thing: revenge.

Such a sad thing, what humans do to one another, to ease their troubled minds…—

First impressions aside, just because there was no convincing her this boy to be a threat, didn't mean there wasn't one. Even now, with the War only little over a week away, there was no doubt in her mind that the other Masters were already making their moves and securing their holds, and it was high time they did the same. Thus, now the question was: with their Master injured and Servant underwhelming, how would they go about it?

Bringing a large guard of homunculi to accompany them would only draw unnecessary attention. Alternatively, having only she and Josefine—while they were both trained in the art of combat and able to hold their own solidly enough—were no match for a Servant alone, regardless of the class. Therefore, their best chance was either fool's luck, or a small, special force comprised of competent homunculi who, together, could protect Ilseviel and Avenger. Her shoulders slumped.

If only they had such a force.

"So, then, why not just create one yourself?" the Apostle quipped, having come beside her presence unannounced and equally as uninvited.

Giving her a sideways glance Liesel often found herself doing to avoid the pull of those eyes, it took all of her inner strength to not let her gaze travel down. "Do you usually make it a habit to invade the minds of those who show you hospitality, or is that only when it amuses you?"

She heard the Apostle chuckle, and imagined her smiling eerily. It sent a chill down her spine. "Only those whom I have an interest in."

"Well, whatever you may think or might have seen, simply 'creating one myself' is not an easily accomplished task."

"Oh? Are you so certain? I believe you would be able to do it. The very least you can do, is try."

Those words harking back to a time better left forgotten stung her, and, when Liesel felt her eyes move away, she dared to look. Smaller in stature, two full heads' worth to be exact, the Apostle was no longer an ancient ready to embrace death, but, a young girl, eager to confront it, skin smooth and pristine, with lips fuller, and eyes even colder. It was almost comical, if not for the fact that even as she was now, the Apostle was still capable of decimating entire countries alone if given the incentive to do so.

"As you guessed, the ritual—materials, summoning, and all—had taken a greater toll than I imagined," she revealed, in answer to the unasked question of how and why. "Therefore, to conserve what little I have left, this is the form I have assumed; one that I shed nearly a millennium ago. I think it suits me quite well. Would you not agree?"

Brow furrowed, Liesel closed her eyes, unamused. "Was your only goal in coming here to irritate me?" When she opened them again, she dared look into those eyes.

"No need to glare, child."

Not wishing to deal with her any longer, Liesel turned her attention back to Sofine. The girl was trying her hardest not to stumble, trip, or otherwise fall all over herself. The anxiety of that day, that fear of making another punishable mistake, still loomed heavily over her shoulders. She saw from the corner of her eye, the top of the Ancestor's head, as it tilted up to where the stained glass portrait of the Grail's conceptualization had once been. Gathered about it were many ravens, crowded around the one she always observed, and, eyeing them rather closely, almost as if she could see into their black, feathered bodies, the Ancestor let out a short, ugly show of dark bemusement.

"Curious creatures, are they not?

"No," she snapped back, tired of their little game of cat and mouse they'd been playing since the Apostle arrived and decided to stay. It'd been like this for the past few days and gone on as long as she could stand anymore. She told Sofine to be on her way and soon as the girl was gone—pile of brooms, debris, and all—met the Apostle's eyes once more and held it this time. "So, are you ready to tell me what you're doing here? "What is your interest in our affairs truly is?"

… And the smile she'd imagined? It was there in full.

"Such a strong, deviant child," the Apostle said, her swirling, black pupils in a deep, dark, bottomless void. "Justeaze chose well."

At the casual mention of the Lady's name, Liesel's body trembled and she couldn't tell if it was because of her failing functionality, or, the anger she felt for harboring emotions that she shouldn't have developed in the first place. Anger that she couldn't quite control, no matter her efforts. Fear, that wouldn't go away and she was ashamed to admit she possessed. Her lip back curled in disgust.

"Answer the question," she snarled.

"Very well," the Apostle said, seeming to give a shrug. I might, in due time, but, right now, I would rather stay here for a little while longer and… observe." She broke eye contact, going back to the ravens. "Such lovely creatures…"

"Observe?"

"Why, is that not obvious?"

She scowled. "No, it isn't."

"Do you not think it odd that they are gathered all within this one place?"

"... What?"

She smiled. "You'll see soon."

With that said, the Apostle began to disappear, blending into the shadows from whence she first appeared, leaving a whisper of farewell that echoed in Liesel's mind.

I wish you well, child. Till next we shall meet…

Now alone with the ravens, Liesel was left to wander in her thoughts, lost in those memories best left alone, searching for answers to questions long abandoned, and knowing that she would never find them.

"Create one myself, indeed," she scoffed, before turning on her heel and heading back to the castle.