'I hate you.'
The words were insidious. Words that shouldn't have been said. Were supposed to be impossible to fall from the lips of something lost to its own madness. A poisonous snake through her thoughts, her mind was on fire, blood rushing through her ears, her heart pounding and pounding and pounding and pounding. Like it was ready to burst inside her chest.
'I hate you.'
She shook, ensnared in this dreams' grip, hateful red eyes staring back at her behind shadow shrouded armor.
She shook her head. 'No. No!' She denied, more fervently than she felt. 'Its not real. This is not real!'
The Black armored behemoth growled, a low, rumbling sound in his throat loathing in his eyes.
He was done...he was dead...she knew because she drove the sword into his chest herself.
'Get out! Get out! Get out!' She shouted, her thoughts railing against this corrosive remnant. This thing dragged out of her memory like some grotesque taunt.
He's dead.
'Get out!'
She opens her eyes with a strangled gasp, feeling her skin hot while her bones were achingly cold.
"Saber." She heard Shirou's voice, saw the shock of red hair, framing her Master's face as he came into view.
"Shir-" She groaned, clutching at her skull. A spike of pain driving itself through her head and straight down her spine
'Soul of the lost withdrawn from its vessel.'
Her eyes stung now, the candle lights of the nexus too bright, Shirou's voice too loud. She turned her head, twitching and shivering with what she could only guess was some kind of fever, finding the maiden kneeling next to her, hands clasped together in what seemed like a prayer, an orb glowing white blue infront of her.
'Let strength be granted so the world might be mended'
Her ribs felt like they were crushing her lungs, spasms of pain ripped through her whole body as she groaned, clutching herself as she doubled over, feeling herself curl up, her knees to her chest now.
Soul of the lost withdrawn from its vessel.'
"Saber. Saber look at me." Shirou's voice seemed far away, but louder than a thunderbolt in her ears. All pretense of dignity and stoicism were gone now, she lay there, shivering in miserable pain...so much pain. The wounds of battle she could shrug off, the injuries of memories long since scabbed over to become scars she rarely allowed herself to dwell on these days.
'Let strength be granted so the world might be mended.'
But this...this was something wholly alien, as though her own body were fighting against her, her bones growing too long or her muscles tightening and tensing to the point of tearing, a prisoner in her own flesh. Saber turned back, looking at the worried eyes of her master and felt the words slip out of her before she could stop them.
"What's happening to me?"
She choked down fire, heat spreading through her whole chest until she felt her insides burning.
'Soul of the lost withdrawn from its vessel'
She gasped, feeling as though a hundred razors were now flaying her skin off her bones, the throbbing headache splitting her skull, ice down her spine. A myriad of sensations, all of them agonizing tearing through her in the amount of time it took for her to suck in that breath.
'Let strength be granted so the world might be mended.'
Her hand reached out, gripping Shirou by the wrist, and even that felt like she was grasping needles, but she gripped harder, he was there, and she needed something...something to keep her grounded, to keep her focus. Something that might help her against whatever invisible enemy was hurting her now.
Shirou's free hand fell over hers, light brown eyes finding hers even as they clouded over with the beginnings of delirium. "I'm right here Saber.
'So the world might be mended.'
Rin felt the beginnings of a headache coming on, staring at Biorr with the most irritated expression one could fathom. "You're joking?"
Bior took a heavy gulp from his wineskin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I wish lass. Truth is, even if the fog had let you pass after we defeated that monster there's still plenty of fight ahead of ye."
Rin didn't want to be reminded of that blasted fog, after defeating that Knight Demon, and finding the Archstone, Biorr had tried to venture forward a little further, as she and Shirou gathered Saber and Ostrava, hoping they'd be able to return to the Nexus this time for sure. Only for Biorr to be tossed back like the polarities of a magnet had been switched, launching him back nearly five feet.
So now even the freaking air was stopping them from finding this library.
Add to that:
"Whatever Demon lies at the top of the King's tower is protected by the spirits of Boletaria's greatest knights and a Fire breathing White Dragon. Bigger, and a lot angrier than that wee red lizard ye faced over the crossing."
Her hands flew up to her face, the back of her head falling against the stone she leaned on. An aggravated sound, half between a scream a groan and a sob escaped the muffle of her fingers.
Then a thought occurred to her. "How do you know if we couldn't get past the fog?"
"The Fog wasn't always this strong girl. The soldiers of Boletaria, Stone Fang and the rest of the kingdoms put up a fight before the demons overran us. My brother Valarfax broke through the fog at the Kingdom's edge, and managed to call for help. I tried leadin an assault through the city to retake the King's tower." He said, his expression darkening. "I took nearly five hundred men, every soldier I could find. We got to the foot of the steps, cutting down demons and madmen...then the Dragon came, the Dragon, the King's possessed knights, and that witch Miralda!"
"Miralda?" She asked, her interest peeking.
"Aye, she was The Good King's executioner, lovely face, loyal to King Alant. She used to pray over those she was sent to execute, offering many of them peace before her blade removed their heads from their shoulders."
"She sounds like a real saint for her job." Rin muttered as Biorr shrugged.
"It was as good as some men could hope for with their crimes. She did her duty but never enjoyed it. But now she's a madwoman like all the rest, laughing and giggling as she hacked men to pieces, dressed as some ghoul. Saw her claw a mans eyes out and speak about putting them on a chain to wear as jewelry. That woman is more beast than maiden fair now I can assure you."
"So that's how you were captured then?"
"Aye. Don't know why they kept me. Maybe they wanted to turn me into another Miralda. The elder of Boletaria's Twin Fangs would be quite a boon eh?" He smirked.
"You keep mentioning that. What exactly are the Twin Fangs and who's the other?"
"My brother, Vallarfax. Good man, always with a book. We're Boletaria's Twin Fangs, the last in a long line of knights that guard the King personally. Gifted with the finest Armor and weapons, bar the kings own arms, Daemonbrant and Soulbrant. My brother and I have served for nearly thirty years, ever since King Allant took the throne. The Kings are raised beside the two boys who would be chosen to become the Twin Fangs, the title being passed down along with the crown. My brother and I are the only family to ever have the honor of both Twin Fangs to share the same bloodline." He smiled, a fond upturn of the lips. "Our mother cried so much that day. She was happier than even the King himself, and he was the one receiving the crown."
Rin sighed, leaning back against the stone. "So now...our only way back is out of our reach because of some Demon crap fog, is guarded by elite knights, a fire breathing dragon, and a mad woman who giggles when she claws peoples eyes out."
"And the demon itself. Just by the feel of it, that one up there, atop the tower. Hmm, the one we brought down the other day wouldn't even be considered good practice."
She groaned, her face scrunching up. "Just shut up."
Biorr smirked. "Look on the bright side." He said. "At least you escaped the last fight unscathed." He looked at her ankle, bandaged and sprained from when she'd been thrown back by the shockwave. "Well...mostly."
She wasn't sure weather she should rage or cry.
When she saw Shirou again, her red headed schoolmate looked haggard and worn thin, his skin sallow with worry lines carving themselves into his face.
Her features softened in sympathy. "How is she?" She asked, as much for him as for herself. Climbing the god only knew how many steps to where they were keeping Saber in one of the farther anterooms was not exactly the smartest thing to do on a sprained ankle with no crutches.
She often chastised herself for such, seeing as how Saber was a servant and the war was still in play, but she did care for their resident stoic blond.
Shirou shook his head, sighing. "I...the maiden says that this is the strongest Demon soul she's had to subdue...its..." He paused, shaking his head again, pushing the thoughts away as he looked to her, "How's Ostrava?"
She gestured to the unarmored man, Biorr sitting by his side. "Still sleeping with whatever the girl in black chugged down his throat. Probably be out for a few more hours."
He nodded moving to step away, walking towards the corner he'd taken as his own sleeping place, ready to grab the stretch of wool that was his 'bed' and make his way back up to Saber when her hand shot out and grabbed at his wrist. "Not so fast there." She said, and with both hands wrapping around his wrist, she pulled herself up to stand on one foot.
He stared at her oddly, no doubt tired but they were gonna be stuck here for a while and the sooner they got started the better. "Alright lets go."
"Go?" He said. "Go where."
"To practice remember? You projected a demon's weapon, I haven't forgotten that load of BS. We need to figure out how you did that and how you can do it again."
Shirou groaned. "Rin...its been a long day, Sabers sick and-"
"And you'll do her no good just sitting around. Come on." She said with a careless shrug. "I'll just annoy you until you do Emiya."
The redhead rolled his eyes, scratching the back of his head before he decided to give in, turning and beginning to walk before Rin's loud 'Ahem' made him turn around.
She raised her arms magnanimously, throwing a look at her injured ankle.
Five minutes later Shirou knelt down, feeling Rin ease herself off of his back to sit at the floor, at the far end of the hallway at the foot of the nexus, it led nowhere, forking to a T shape that lead to dead ends, the only real advantage was the rather mystifying view it offered of the massive statue that hung perpetually above the starlight floor in the center.
The weight of the sword Boldwin had grudgingly granted them was almost natural in his hands, the heft of the blade was fine, but the weapon itself was nicked in places, scratched. It'd seen fights that was for sure.
The spear, shield and axe he had in his other hand felt a bit more awkward.
And heavy.
All of these weapons paled in comparison however to the monstrosity Rin had corralled Stockpile Thomas into dragging over here for them.
The poor man was shaking beneath the weight of that Zewiehander, a six foot crushing slab of steel that passed itself off as a sword.
It was taller than all of them for crying out loud.
The man strained with the weight, dragging half the blade on the floor.
"Ohhh" He groaned. "Did they forge this for a man or a shaved bear?"
Setting down his weapons, Shirou stepped forward. "Let me help."
Grabbing onto one side of the blades massive hand guard, Shirou pulled.
And with surprising ease, the blade lifted.
He blinked, half in wonder half in confusion. Altering his grip to grasp the weapon by its proper hilt. "Huh?"
Thomas looked at him wide eyed, retinas going from him to the blade and back to him, then after he deduced that Shirou was indeed lifting a weapon that he had trouble just dragging, looked at his own arms, poking at the biceps.
Rin stared, wide eyed. "Huh...well I guess those Demon Souls are having an effect?"
Shirou turned to look at her. "Huh? Say what?"
"The Demon's Souls." She said slowly, drawing out the words. "If you're able to do that, the two you've taken must be having an effect. You just hadn't realized by how gradual its been." She tapped her chin in thought. "Huh..." She looked at her own biceps. "Maybe I should try lifting weights or something."
"Didn't you use yours to learn that spell?"
"Oh right." She said with a careless shrug. "Guess that means you'll be my pack mule." She smirked viciously and Shirou realized he'd walked right into this. "I see Fujimura and Sakura had the right idea. Always good to have a man around that's house broken."
Five minutes, indignant sputtering and a departing Stockpile Thomas later, Shirou sat across from Rin with a longsword, a dagger, a shield, an axe, a spear and one monstrous slab of steel pretending to be a sword laid out between them.
"Ok." Rin said, grimacing as she folded her leg into a more comfortable sitting position. "Lets start out small." Reaching forward, she lifted the dagger "Try this one."
As Shirou stared at the weapon, Rin spoke, hoping her words would help tap into whatever the hell he'd tapped into beforehand against the dragon. "Try to think. What was it that you did, or what were you thinking of when you projected that weapon Shirou."
His brow scrunched up in thought.
He hadn't been thinking about much of anything...
He'd just...remembered...
Like a switch had been turned on, he remembered that the knowledge was there just...unused...like riding a bike.
Like a thread, laid out before him he tried to follow the thought, tried to reach through whatever had been tossed aside for that one moment, caught between disorientation and adrenaline fueled fear and debilitating worry.
But there was nothing, nothing to guide him, nothing to help him, nothing to let him see. Just the half faded memory of a nearly forgotten dream.
He stared at the weapon held in Rin's hand.
And again, like a switch he found it.
Judging concept of creation.
Hypothesizing on structure
Duplicating material composition.
Imitating the skill of its making
Sympathizing with the experience of its growth
Reproducing the accumulated years
Excelling every manufacturing process.
"Trace, On!"
And right there in his hand was the perfect replica of the dagger Rin was holding.
The brunette smiled so wide Shirou was half afraid of it.
What seemed like an hour or so later, after several projections of the various pieces of equipment infront of them Rin had gotten people to bring other things.
They rather quickly discovered that Shirou's ability was limited to weaponry.
Or more specifically the swords.
He could trace the shield, and the spear, but at close inspection Rin and he could see the weapons were slightly imperfect in their replication. Not exactly the same.
"But you traced that big demon's lance." She finally said with a frown. "I saw it plain as day."
"Maybe it was the same as these." Shirou answered, gesturing to the shield and spear. "Maybe it just looked like a perfect copy. We didn't have time to sit and stare did we?"
Rin frowned. "Project it again."
"Huh?"
You heard me." The brunette said imperiously. "Do it again. You did it before you can do it again."
"What just...off of memory?"
"That thing nearly ran us through a few times. I'm sure you have some idea of what it looked like. Its only been a day and a half."
Shirou stood up now, shrugging, the red head closed his eyes as he tried to run through his memory.
And crystal clear as day the image of the lance came to him, perfect recollection of the weapon in every way.
And with a though, it took shape in his hands. "Trace, On!"
The drain was immediate and profound, where the other weapons had been only a slight pull on his magic circuits, this felt as though someone sucked the energy right out of them now. Liquid fire running beneath his skin, Shirou gasped, grimacing with the shock of pain.
"Hmm? What's wrong?" Rin asked, looking at the sudden sweat that beaded his brow.
"This was...tiring."
She nodded, hand going to her chin in thought. "Of course, the greater the weapon the greater the strain no? Seems obvious." She took a closer look at the weapon, her features scrunching up in thought. "Hmmm...its close...but now that I'm looking at it it does seem off, somehow."
Shirou looked at the weapon too. She was right. It was off. The differences were subtle, but unmistakeable, like staring at the same model and color of a car owned by two different people. You could always tell the difference, even if there shouldn't be any at all.
"Alright well...now we know you can do it. But it does seem like you do better with swords. So one last test eh?"
He looked up at her, trepidation on his features, already an inkling of what she was going to say forming in his thoughts. "And what's that?"
"The last demon we fought had a very nice, very strong sword."
"You want me to project it?"
Rin nodded. "Yup. Consider it the ultimate test. Worth ninety percent of your final grade."
The lance dispelled. And Shirou closed his eyes again in concentration.
Once more, the image of the weapon came to him. He focused on it, coiled his mind around it, channeled all of his energy into this strange thing they'd discovered and...
Judging concept of creation.
A weapon. Meant for fighting, killing. Its purpose was to be used, wielded. To shed blood.
Hypothesizing on structure
A weapon. Its body consisted of a blade, a hand-guard, a hilt and a pommel.
Duplicating material composition.
A weapon. Forged from ancient blue steel, lined with shards and ores of pure clearstone.
Imitating the skill of its making
A weapon. Made by the King's own smith, heated in fires stoked with coals from the Stonefang, pounded with a hammer gifted by the storm tribes, blessings from clerics dedicated to the temples of Latria with chants of Umbasa.
Sympathizing with the experience of its growth.
A weapon. It found its first blood in the battle of the Ash plains, and again in the rebellion of the six tribes, and again in the war of the Twins.
Reproducing the accumulated years
A weapon. Years and years of bloodshed. Of service.
Then...
Corrupted, changed, perverted, enhanced, malformed...
Stronger.
Excelling every manufacturing process.
A weapon...A sword...A demon sword.
Shirou opened his eyes.
"Trace On!"
She climbed the nine hundred steps, the sound of her foot falls would have been silent, if silence did not already permeate the entire upper mezanines.
When she stood before the monumental, the shriveled child inclined his head up to her, his weary eyes blinking slowly. "How is the lady Arturia?"
His question shot into her mind as it always did, words passing unseen.
"She rests." The maiden said. "I have never seen the like. Even my attempts to quell the demon are met with harsh resistance."
"You will never see the like again. Arturia Pendragon is the soul of a long lost Hero, given corporeal flesh. A spirit within a mortal coil."
The maiden took a moment to digest this. "She is like the Demon's then...spirits, given form."
"She is."The monumental admitted. "I had not considered it. But because of this, the Demons are not as impaired against her as they would be in trying to combat a human. They are Body and Soul both. Arturia like the Demons, is more soul than body. She will find, that defeating the demons in the physical sense, will only be half the battle. The easier one perhaps."
"She cannot prevail." The maiden said, turning around to begin walking back down the steps to tend to her patient. "She fights, and her will is strong but the Demon may soon overpower her."
"Then do all you can. Subdue the Demon, suppress it, quell it, lull it to slumber if you must. But save this woman from my failing."
She nodded. "I shall do all that I am able."
Shirou set himself down beside Saber, weary and bone tired as Rin slid down the wall at the ill blonds other side, casting a worried look as Saber's brow beaded with sweat, her breaths shallow and shaky as her eyes clinched themselves closed.
"She'll be alright Shirou." Rin said, throwing the worried redhead a look. Almost promising him as best she could.
The youth took a breath through his nostrils, laying back to rest on the tough wool cloth, he closed his eyes and tried to find sleep.
A moment later he felt something slip into his hand, his eyes snapping open he turned and found Saber's green orbs staring back at him.
Half lidded with exhaustion, his servant managed a single nod, as if to back up Rin's assurances before she began pulling her fingers away to close her eyes.
Shirou moved before she could finish, taking her hand again in his own, more firmly this time.
The servant fluttered her eyes open again, visibly struggling with the effort to find Shirou's gaze again as he nodded with unspoken words.
She let herself succumb to sleep again.
