A/N: New chapter!
The room was dark, a single candle placed in the centre of the floor the only source of light. Constantin preferred it that way. The contrast of the darkness pressing in all around against the single, small flame was aesthetically pleasing. Perhaps even calming.
Seated before it, legs crossed and eyes closed, his mind began to wander over the events of last night.
Embarrassing.
Pathetic.
Demeaning.
All words that could be applied to his… 'battle' with Ilyasviel von Einzbern. At the thought of the pale girl, he rubbed his throat unconsciously, feeling the ragged scar that stretched from his chin to his collarbone. A memento from her father.
Twenty three years ago, Emiya Kiritsugu had been at the height of his infamy. The assassin of magi, given the title of 'Magus Killer' out of respect, disgust and fear. Whole experiments had been stopped by the mere suggestion that he might be in the area. His wrath against those who used others as fodder for their experiments had been legendary. He had even killed his own father over such an event. What chance did any other magus have of mercy in the face of a man like that?
Twenty three years ago, Emiya Kiritsugu had killed his brother.
The memory hurt more than it should have. For magi, who were supposed to be detached from shallow bonds such as blood, he and his brother Petr had been quite close. Even in his youth, he hadn't complained when his brother had been given the position of heir. He hadn't wanted it anyway. It gave too much responsibility. As the second, lesser child he'd been given much more freedom than his brother. While his brother had aspired to the heights of magic, he'd been content to sit in his shadow.
And then Petr had been killed.
He'd been experimenting in concealed bounded fields, the speciality of the Escherdt family. To test these, intelligent subjects had been needed, so as to show whether the concealment was functioning correctly. The inhabitants of the local town had more than sufficed. But the sudden rush of disappearances also drew the attention of Emiya Kiritsugu. The result had been the same as whenever the attention of the Magus Killer was gained. Except for one vital difference.
Petr's body had been burnt to ash, along with almost all of the magic crest of the Escherdt family. In one fell swoop they'd been reduced to little more than a first or second-generation family of magi. The backlash against him had been terrible. Suddenly he was the heir of the family, the first link in a brand new chain. The freedom he'd taken for granted was stripped from him and he was all but forced into the workshops and libraries to futilely struggle to regain more than two hundred years worth of magical knowledge in a single generation.
He'd longed for revenge. To kill the man who'd slain his brother and forced him into a life he didn't desire. But as if fate was mocking him, Kiritsugu had shortly after come under the protection of the Einzbern family, putting the Magus Killer well beyond his reach. And so for years he'd been left to stew in bitterness, sitting quietly among the libraries of his family.
And then the Fourth Grail War had come.
For a time, no-one had been sure who had won the War, nor even who had survived. Then news began to trickle out. The prodigal magus, Waver Velvet had returned, with new confidence and power, bearing news of the death of his old Master, Lord El-Melloi and his fiancé. The Tohsaka family had likewise suffered the loss of their family head, Tohsaka Tokiomi. Of the other Masters little was known.
And then came something no-one had expected. To the world at large, the Einzbern had declared the removal of Emiya Kiritsugu from their household. That had caused quite a stir. There'd been more than one family with a grudge against the magus after all. When he was sighted on the Russian mainland, the hunt had been on.
Constantin had joined more than willingly, dismissing his family's complaints with all the influence he'd garnered over the years. At last, he'd thought, he could avenge his brother. He could put his grudge to rest. He could look Emiya Kiritsugu in the eye as he died, and spit on the corpse.
It had been a disaster.
If Emiya Kiritsugu had been considered merciless before, he'd been as a demon then. He'd burned down entire sections of forest, levelled buildings as a distraction, left the corpses of his enemies rotting behind him as warnings. Constanin hadn't cared. Even when others began to turn back, fear and caution overcoming their blood thirst, he'd persevered.
And to reward him for his efforts, Kiritsugu had carved out his throat with a jagged branch. A branch. It had been humiliating.
He'd used every ounce of power at his disposal to live, cauterising the wound shut and using all the limited healing magics he knew and even then he'd been lucky. Kiritsugu had left without a second glance to spare at the body he presumed dead or dying, stumbling forward like a man possessed. Even so, Constantin hadn't possessed the energy to move.
And so he'd lain in the snow, his body growing colder and colder as time passed. Until a girl from a local village out for a walk, or to pick flowers, or to search for something, or something equally trivial, had found him. She'd taken him back to the village and called a doctor. Over the course of the next few weeks he'd recovered, bit by bit, clawing his way back to health and another chance at revenge.
By the time he had completely recovered Emiya Kiritsugu was dead, and he was left with grudges that could not be fulfilled.
Until now. Until he had been granted the title of Master by the Holy Grail, allowing him to fight, to punish, the last remaining family of Emiya Kiritsugu on equal terms.
And yet once more he'd been dismissed, thrown aside as nothing more than a hindrance, a bump in the road.
With a growl of frustration, he began to scratch deeper into the scar, nails cutting the flesh until fresh blood began to flow. He'd refused to have to wound healed, despite the difficulties it created in his speech. It was a mark of lessons learnt, lessons that he'd forgotten in his mad rush to battle Ilyasviel. The pain he caused himself now was to reinforce them.
Caution. Patience. Preparation. Words that he'd lived by for nearly a decade, only to casually throw away.
Well, no more. He thought angrily. I will not be brushed aside again!
Sitting there, the single candle before him, he closed his eyes and let darkness envelop him.
After agreeing to meet up at the temple footsteps at nine 'o clock, Shirou and Rin had headed back to their respective houses to prepare whatever they thought they might need for the attack. He'd headed back to the church at a brisk pace and made his way down into the cellars, opening an innocuous looking wardrobe. And then opening the wooden back, to reveal a fairly respectable armoury of assorted weaponry.
Shirou examined the varied collection of armaments in front of him with a practiced eye. Most of it wasn't of much interest to him, as he simply hadn't had the time to actually practice their usage. Weapons weren't his speciality to begin with, as his primary focus was on magecraft and unarmed combat. But he was assaulting the stronghold of a Servant and he'd need any edge he could get his hands on.
Eventually though, he shook his head in dismay. Everything in the hidden storage cupboard that contained the conventional weapons of the household was essentially useless against Servants. While his claws, when reinforced, would technically be capable of damaging Servants, the idea of going head-to-head with an being like a Heroic Spirit wasn't an appealing one.
Next to him, Assassin seemed to have reached a similar conclusion as to the usefulness of the equipment, replacing a bandolier of throwing knives on their shelf. "…Shirou, none of these will work against a Servant."
"I know." He said, closing the cupboard up again and stepping out of the wardrobe it was concealed in, brushing aside a long priest's coat as he did so. "But I've got something else in mind."
If the conventional weapons were useless, he'd just have to use the unconventional weapons.
Moving deeper into the small labyrinth below the church, he eventually came to a wood panel. Nothing about it signalled it as being different from those surrounding it and indeed, it wasn't. Except for the fact that behind it there was a fairly hefty armoury of sanctified items.
His father hadn't been so eager to train him in the use of most of them, calling them distractions that he didn't need. Indeed, he'd only agreed to teach him how to use any of the holy artefacts after Shirou had demonstrated that his magecraft had advanced far enough.
He'd done that by warping a hole through the three inches of solid oak that separated him from them in the first place. A feat that he was repeating right now.
He ducked slightly as he entered the alcove, looking down at the collection of divine artefacts. Or one group in particular.
The Black Keys were the symbolic weapons of the Executors of the Church, a type of conceptual weapon that excelled in damaging spiritual phenomena. While they weren't quite powerful enough to destroy Servants, they were still one the few weapons that could actually damage a Heroic Spirit. That made them worth bringing along. The only weapons more dangerous in the entire household were those contained in Gilgamesh's armoury. And Gilgamesh wasn't good at sharing. Not that he could even ask; his brother had pulled the same vanishing trick that his father had been so fond of lately.
The dozen long blades sat there, exuding a quiet sense of menace. Casually, he picked one up and fitted it between his fingers. A flick of his wrist and the weapons was embedded very nearly up to the hilt in the floor.
He grinned in childlike glee. It looked like his father had maintained them perfectly. Wonderful.
He glanced across the remaining inventory. Rosary beads, crucifixes and other items he could quite recognize or see the use of. All useless to him. He lacked the faith required to make such items function in their true capacity. While he was technically Christian, that was exactly the problem. Technically didn't cut it, not when dealing with holy artefacts. The Black Keys were an exception. Even someone with his rather lacklustre faith could use them.
Suddenly, he frowned. Folded up in a neat pile was a black cloth that he'd never seen before in the armoury. Picking it up, it opened into a long black coat, similar to the one he'd brushed aside just five minutes ago. A piece of card tumbled to the ground as it opened and he quickly stooped to catch it. The side closest to him was blank, so he flicked it over.
Shirou. For when faith is not armour enough.
Also, I've no doubt that I didn't give you permission to come in here, so make sure that everything you don't take is in it's proper place before you leave.
Your father.
He blinked in surprise and gave the coat an examination. Now that he actually looked at it, it was shorter than his father's. Almost a perfect fit for him. He gave an amused snort. It looked like Kotomine Kirei knew him better than he'd thought.
Slipping on the coat, he twisted experimentally. It was surprisingly light, and expertly tailored. His movement didn't seem to be restricted at all. It was also damn stylish, which was always a plus.
"How do I look?" He asked, turning to face Assassin.
She looked him up and down for a moment, then nodded. "Good."
He gave the cloth a quick rub, then grinned again, If his suspicions were correct then this coat was a good deal tougher than it appeared. Anyone trying to bring him down with small arms fire, magical or mundane, would be in for a surprise. Not much use against a Servant, but then not much was. Besides, he was aiming for the Master. He had a grudge to bring to bear on that bastard.
He felt the childish excitement at the new equipment dwindle as his thoughts turned back to the events of the day. Another surge of guilt rushed through him, but he quashed it with a renewed anger. He'd already been through this a dozen times in his thoughts yet it seemed that no matter how he rationalised it, his mind just wouldn't leave him alone about it.
He couldn't help Yukika yet, but he could avenge her.
That was all.
Assassin was angry. A lifetimes practice of dissembling allowed her to hide that from the world, yet it didn't change the terrible wrath snaking through her mind.
Someone had hurt Shirou.
She didn't particularly like Yukika. She was closer to Shirou than Assassin was comfortable with. But her pain had obviously troubled Shirou, made him sad. Unhappy.
So someone was going to suffer. Starting with Caster and ending with… well, ending whenever Shirou was happy again.
She watched Shirou cook from her perch on the dining room chair with steady eyes. He was trying to hide it, but it was obvious that he was still depressed. She didn't like that. She didn't like that at all. Anything that hurt him had to be destroyed. The idea of assaulting the temple tonight, of slaughtering the Servant and Master inside, was an appealing one. Wouldn't killing Caster be one more proof to Shirou of how important he was to her?
And then there were the possible opportunities that the assault would provide.
She'd been frustrated when Rin had first offered the partnership to Shirou, but it hadn't taken her long to see the advantages inherent in the alliance. Working beside Rin would provide innumerable chances to strike when Shirou's attention was elsewhere. Before Rin could betray Shirou, she would kill her. It was simple. The only problem was Rider.
She frowned at the thought of the crimson haired Servant. She couldn't help but feel that under the affable, carefree persona that the Heroic Spirit presented to the world, there was an all too perceptive mind. It was worrying. More than that, Rider just plain annoyed her. She reminded her of the whores and nightwalkers who'd made their living selling their flesh in the alleys and streets of the city she'd been born in. That same lack of concern for consequences, that same seductive air.
Involuntarily, her hand clenched her dagger. Old grudges began to rise within and despite her attempts to force them down, spite began to roil through her veins once more…
"Assassin, dinner's ready!"
The sound of Shirou's voice snapped her out of her thoughts instantly. She marvelled at that. Just his voice alone seemed enough to set her free of her past.
To have someone like that forever…
Wasn't that worth any price?
Seated on bottom of the steps leading up to the temple, Rin shivered in the cold night air. Next to her Rider stood as a physical presence, seemingly unconcerned with the steadily lowering temperature. Given that she was wearing little more than that halfway opened coat, Rin could only attribute this to her spiritual nature.
"He's late." She ground out between teeth that chattered continually, despite her attempts to restrain them. She'd cast a small spell to keep herself warm, but it appeared that she'd somewhat underestimated the depth of the chill. It was definitely unusually cold for this time of year.
"No, Master." Rider sighed. "We're early. Like I said we'd be."
Rin shot the Heroic Spirit a glare. Weren't Servants supposed to be loyal, dedicated warriors? Not taking every chance they got to take a dig at their Masters? At the very least she'd been hoping for a Servant with some manners.
"Ah!" Rider said cheerily from next to her. "There you go, Master. He's right on time, unlike some early birds I could mention."
Biting down her retort to that, she turned to shoot a bile filled comment at Shirou instead only to freeze.
Shirou looked… different. Gone were the t-shirt and jeans he wore practically everywhere out of school, replaced by a hauntingly familiar coat. His eyes seemed slightly dull, as if deep in thought, and his face was stoic. For a brief moment, he looked like some kind of wraith walking among the living.
For a brief moment, he truly looked like his father.
She shook her head violently, clearing the vision from her head. Opening her eyes, Shirou was once again in front of her, looking a little tired and wearing clothes that didn't suit him, but still… still Shirou.
"Oh?" He asked, giving her a curious look. "You're already here? Am I late?"
"Of course you are!" She ground out, giving an indignant huff. "I wouldn't have been-"
"You're fine, Shirou-kun." Rider interrupted, cutting across her tirade. "Rin's just cold and irritable."
"Is that it?" He replied, giving her a glance. He stretched out a hand and laid his palm against her cheek. She blushed slightly at the contact, but didn't pull away.
"W-what are you doin-"
"Analysis start."
Almost instantly, a rush of heat began to burn it's way through her chilled muscles, eventually settling down into a pleasant warmth. She restrained her circuits instinctive attempt to block the foreign prana. Shirou gave her a once over, then nodded in satisfaction.
"Feeling better?"
"Y-yeah." She said, a little breathlessly. As always, it seemed Shirou was using his straightforward approach to problem solving, regardless of minor things like personal space. He looked at her for a moment longer.
"By the way Rin, aren't you putting on a little too much weight around your hips?"
She stared at him momentarily. There was no way he'd be stupid enough to actually say that, right? Her ears had just been deceiving her, surely? Behind her, Rider snickered.
"You really should watch out for that." Shirou continued, voice earnest and calm. "I can get rid of it if you want, but overeating is a habit that you really shouldn't get into…"
Rider doubled over. Rin fought the urge to kick her.
"Also-" Rin held up a shaking hand to stop him in his tracks.
"Shirou. Just… just stop there. For your own good." Shirou's honesty, no matter how well intentioned, hit like a truck. He paused at that, then nodded.
"I guess you're right." He looked up the stairs. After a few hundred feet the shadows of the night swallowed up the steps from sight, making it seem as if a wall of darkness was spread across their path. "We've got more important things to worry about."
"Oh, I don't know about that." Rider whispered next to Rin's ear, her words audible only to her Master. "A girl's weight is pretty big issue, isn't that right? My chubby little Master?"
Very purposefully, Rin ignored that, facing Shirou. "Where's Assassin?"
Shirou opened his mouth to reply but before he could so much as say a single word, the white-haired Servant appeared, taking on her physical form right next to him. She gave Rin and Rider a nod of acknowledgment but said nothing, seemingly content standing silently by Shirou's side.
Rin eyed the girl with some concern. If Rider was right, then the white-haired Servant was after her life. If that were true, then the Heroic Spirit gave no signs of it. Her face was expressionless and reserved. For a second, she considered telling Shirou about Rider's suspicion here and now and confronting the issue head on. The thought of attacking a Servant with one of own allies looking to kill her wasn't a pleasant one.
But even if she brought it up, would he believe her based on little more than Rider's testimony? Just because the issue was closer to hand, it didn't mean the circumstances had changed. Eventually, she bit her tongue. It grated, but she'd have leave it up to Rider, just as the Servant had suggested.
The moment passed. It left a feeling that Rin had made a decision, or missed a chance, or something.
"We should head up now." Shirou said quietly, turning and beginning the long walk up the mountain road.
Moving up beside him, Rin remained silent as they ascended. Shirou felt… odd. While that comment about her weight had been characteristic of him, he was strangely silent and withdrawn for the most part. He'd been in a similar mood when they'd met at the shopping mall.
Just tired, my perfectly proportioned backside. She thought, glancing at his face from the corner of her eye. His gaze was focused on the path ahead and his face expressionless. That was the most chilling part. Shirou's face had always been open, whether he was giving a cheerful grin or grouching about her teasing him. Stoicism just didn't suit him.
And then there was that damn coat. The thing was a bloody copy of Kirei's down to the last thread. The fact that it looked perfectly natural on him just made it worse.
Tempting as it was to confront him on whatever was on his mind, this wasn't the time. After they'd finished with Caster though, she'd give him an earful about hiding things from her. Not that she was worried about him or anything like. It was just that they were allies after all. Transparency was essential for efficient cooperation.
As they neared the summit, the sheer strength of the bounded fields that had been constructed around the ancient temple became even more apparent than it had been through the familiar's eyes. Countless barriers overlapped one another, creating a thrum of power that could be felt even without touching the constructs. Next to her, Rider gave a low whistle.
"You really weren't kidding about this place being a fort, were you?" She raised an eyebrow, apparently impressed. "Even I can feel that."
"Can you get in undetected, Assassin?" Shirou asked, staring at large stone gate little more than a hundred meters ahead.
The white haired Servant closed her eyes in thought momentarily, then shook her head. "…I can hide my presence from Caster, but crossing the boundary fields will alert them to the presence of an intruder."
"Is that so?" Shirou murmured quietly. After a second he gave a small, vicious smile. "Then let's give you a smokescreen."
He closed his eyes and gave the order.
Caster's head shot up as the feeling of nearly a dozen presences forcing themselves across her boundary burst into her senses. Among them, most horrifyingly, was a Servant. For a brief moment, the warning sounds of the boundary field blurred together in her mind like a terrible cacophony.
She threw herself to her feet, just as the sliding door of the room slammed open, revealing her Master.
"Who is it?" His voice was surprisingly calm as he spoke, his composure seemingly restored.
"Enemies, Master." She replied, hurrying into the orchard. "Almost a dozen and with a Servant among them."
"That many?" He scratched his neck thoughtfully. "Not Einzbern then. She would have come with no more than her Servant."
"You should hide yourself, Master." She continued, speaking over him. While actively trying to protect him grated on her sensibilities, the fact remained that without a Master her powers would be greatly weakened. She wouldn't be able to escape this battle, let alone triumph. And if he was wrong and it was the Einzbern girl, if it was Saber…
She'd need every advantage she could get her hands on.
He nodded in affirmation and retreated into the depths of the temple even as she took to the air, robes fluttering behind her.
Almost instantly she was forced to raise a barrier as a hail of projectiles slammed into the field with enough force to shatter stone. She glared through the glowing shield at her enemy. The red-haired Servant was levelling a pair of pistols her way, firing them with reckless abandon. Despite that, she were horrifyingly accurate with not so much as a single shot not striking off of Caster's barrier. It was a vicious fusillade, one that could have levelled a house through sustained fire.
She smirked. Compared to the tempest Saber had created, this was hardly worth talking about. She spoke the Divine Words and orbs of light began to form around her, each and every one containing a force that was far beyond the capabilities of modern magi. With a single gesture, they were released, lancing forward like harbingers of destruction.
Even as the bolts were launched, she noticed the two forms running for the temple, faster than a normal human could ever hope to move but not at anything like the speed of a Servant. Magi then. Her smirk grew wider. There was a good chance that at least one of them was the Master of the Servant that opposed her. If that were so, then killing them would create a speedy resolution indeed.
Shirou sprinted towards the relative cover of the temple, the loud crack of Rider's guns hurrying his pace. He wasn't quite sure how she'd managed to keep up such a sustained attack given that her pistols appeared to be flintlocks, weapons that weren't known for their large ammo capacity. Then again, expecting anything a Servant did to be physically possible was a futile endeavour in and of itself.
A hail of energy shot past him, detonating against the ground more than a dozen metres behind him. Nevertheless, the shockwave of the explosion caused him to stumble. He barely caught himself before falling and quickly glanced around. Rin had managed to hold herself up and was already getting her pace back. And Rider had somehow managed to dodge the storm of light, already responding with a renewed attack. The courtyard itself was rapidly becoming little more than rubble, the bolts of power having carved craters deep into the earth.
The plan was simple. Shirou and Rin would rush for the temple to confront the Master (or at least get cover from Caster), while Rider distracted Caster. That would also allow Assassin to close in on the opposing Servant, hopefully allowing for a quick kill. In the best case scenario, Rider and Assassin would quickly finish Caster and move in to support them, turning the battle against the enemy Master into a one-sided slaughter.
He wasn't optimistic enough to hope for the best case scenario though. And frankly, that was fine. He wanted to do this with his own hands. To see the life fade from the man behind it all.
Suddenly, his gaze shot up. Another wave of those monstrously powerful spells that Caster seemed to be able to produce at an ungodly rate approached. With a sinking feeling he realised something horrible.
They were aimed at him.
Oh, this is gonna suck.
He braced himself to leap aside, hoping to carry himself far enough beyond the epicentre of the explosion to at least survive, when a lance of light shot past him. It expanded into a crackling field of power, colliding with the oncoming hail. The explosion shook the ground and the flare of light shone like a new sun, but more prepared this time he carried on without so much a stumble. He grinned as he burst through the smoke created by the clash of magic. Nice save, Rin.
He'd long known how powerful Rin's jewels were, but the fact that they could match the incantations of the Servant Caster was impressive by any standard. While his own magecraft was versatile, it lacked anything with that sort of direct power. Then again, so did almost any form of magecraft he'd ever heard of. The Tohsaka Jewelcraft was said to be able to match the lost magecraft of the Age of The Gods and given what he'd just seen, he was feeling willing to give that rumour the benefit of the doubt.
The entrance to the main building of the temple was close now and he leapt forward with one last burst of speed to carry him to relative safety.
Caster gave a dissatisfied click of the tongue as the pair vanished into the shadows of the Temple, even as she launched another storm of bolts at the pistol wielding Heroic Spirit. Given that she didn't know the location of her Master, randomly bombarding the place had too much risk of hitting the wrong target. Well, she wouldn't shed any tears if her Master were to get hit, but it would cause her too many problems.
That aside, she was impressed. That female magus had managed to block one of her spells. Through the use of a reagent certainly but even that was still more than she'd expected from the magi of this era. Against a magi like that, her Master stood no chance in a fair fight. She smirked at that thought.
It was a shame the girl wouldn't get one.
Another hail of bullets smacked off her barrier, forcing her to renew the energy retaining it once more. The red-haired Servant opposing her was proving to be an annoyance. She always seemed to just avoid the worst of her spells, slipping through them by some strange quirk of fate. And her attacks never let up. If she hadn't been bolstered by the life force of hundreds of the townspeople, she might have been worried about running out of prana before she finished the Servant off.
As it was, she merely had to keep this up until her enemies luck ran out and then finish the two inside the temple, if her Master hadn't done so already…
A horrible realisation struck her. That was only three people. Almost a dozen presences had forced their way into the temple grounds. So where were they?
No sooner had the thought struck her than a mist descended.
Her vision went white and in panic she struck upwards, her spell of flight propelling her towards the open sky. It never came. No matter how far she sped, it felt like she barely moved at all with nought but mist surrounding her.
It took only a moment of thought for her to deduce the cause. This was a bounded field, one very nearly on the same level as a reality marble. Even now she could feel the fog sapping her strength, stealing the speed and strength from her movements. Her eyes narrowed at that. Magecraft? Someone was trying to attack her with magecraft? Did they have no idea who they were dealing with?
Her senses reached out, feeling the connections that ran through the field. It was powerful, stronger even than the fields that surrounded her temple. A Noble Phantasm then. Normally beyond even her ability to dispel. But this was her temple, the area that favoured her more than any other, that empowered and fed her. As long as she was in this place, even a simulation of True Magic was not beyond her.
She screamed out the Divine Words, the sheer power of the incantation causing the air around her to vibrate. Like a bomb had detonated, the fog cleared, blown away by the force emanating from her. As if the fog had been shielding it from detection, the presence of a new Servant appeared. Caster's head whipped round.
The new intruder was small, short white hair framing her face. Standing more than thirty feet away, she seemed like a doll. There was no mistaking the look of shock on her face though. Or the readied dagger clasped in her hand. Caster raised a hand, a ball of light forming in front of her fingers. She never got the chance to release it.
Almost instantly, the girl flipped the knife round in her hand, hurling it at the magus with blistering speed. Abandoning her attack, Caster raised a barrier into place, even as the hurled projectile struck. The half-formed shield strained for a fraction of a second against the dagger, before simply collapsing. It was still enough though, diverting the weapons path from the centre of her chest to slashing through the flesh of her shoulder.
Caster grit her teeth in pain, but launched herself into the now unobstructed sky to gain distance from both of the Servants on the ground. Her barrier cracked as more bullets crashed into it as she rose, higher and higher. The wound on her shoulder throbbed as the air pressed against it.
Abruptly, she turned in mid-air, spinning to face her enemies still on the ground. Behind her, orbs of light began to spring into existence once more. Her cloak spread out behind her and from within its gloom yet more appeared, like stars bursting into life in the night sky.
With a vicious gesture of her hand, the light fell to earth.
Shirou let out the breath he'd been holding as he reached the shelter of the temple. The corridor he'd found himself in was almost pitch black dark, with not so much as a single light to guide their footsteps.
"We should hurry up." Rin said firmly, stepping in front of him. "The more we waste time, the longer Assassin and Rider have to deal with that witch out there."
He nodded in agreement, moving to follow her as she stepped into the temple.
The world exploded.
A glaring light pierced his eyes, even as a sudden detonation lifted him off his feet and threw him against the stone wall of the temple. The collision forced the air out his lungs, even the thick coat surrounding him dulling it only slightly. For a moment he lay crumpled against the wall, his mind too dazed to even comprehend exactly what had happened.
Slowly he pulled himself up, staring around blearily.
"What was that?" He croaked out, rubbing the back of his head. No answer came. "Rin?"
His heart nearly stopped when he saw the prone figure lying a dozen feet from him. Wild panic filled his mind. "Rin!"
He ran towards to her body, kneeling down next to it. He didn't touch her though. For all he knew, her current curled up position could be all that stopped one of her ribs from digging into something vital. "Analysis start."
He gritted his teeth as he took in the full extent of the damage. The flames of the explosion itself had done comparatively little damage, with only minor burns on her arms and face. He could fix those in little more than a second. Far more worrying was the internal damage. Her lungs had quite literally been smashed into her chest wall, causing numerous pulmonary contusions. Her right shoulder was cracked like a broken egg shell from where she'd presumably struck the wall and there were more than a few small fractures in her ribs.
Luckily, she'd avoided any major head trauma. She must have blacked out from shock or pain rather than a fractured skull, which was a relief. Treating a head injury rarely turned out perfectly and operating on his childhood friend was something he wanted to avoid. Still, healing was still needed. And with more care than normal. Working on another's body was intrinsically more difficult than his own, especially if they were a magus.
"To all creatures of the earth, life is given as a gift." He recited, the words of the Aria rolling off of his lips. The pulmonary contusions were the most dangerous wounds. Broken bones would heal in time, but fluid building up in the lungs was an immediate concern. "A gift most precious, to be held and guarded by a fortress of bone and flesh."
Repairing the capillaries within her lungs, he moved onto her shoulder. The bone there was little more than shards. Without magical healing or some fairly skilled surgery, it'd probably never heal fully. Fortunately, he was more than capable of providing the former.
A fluttering of Rin's eyes cheered him no end. He'd been worried that he'd have to force her awake. "Have a nice nap, Sleeping Beauty?"
"…It… it could have been better." She moaned, shifting slightly. "Did it get you too?"
He shrugged. "A couple of bruises. Not even worth healing really. You're in a worse state." He continued healing even as he spoke. Talking while heavily injured wasn't the best of ideas, it was better than Rin lapsing back into unconsciousness. "I don't suppose you know what that was?"
She frowned slightly, whether from pain or annoyance he couldn't tell. "A… bounded field, I think. One set to contain a spell for release when… someone crossed it."
"But we should have sensed that." Shirou said, a frown of his own covering his face.
"It was… hidden." Rin stated. "I've heard of it before, but this is my first time seeing a fully concealed field." She coughed, shuddering in pain. "Could've… could've gone better."
"Well, when we get our hands on the bastard who set it up, let's see if we can prise how he did from him." Or from his corpse. Shirou was fine with either.
"Yeah. And speaking of which…" She brought her left arm up, shoving him away gently. "You've gotta get going."
He stared at her.
"I don't bloody well think so." He said firmly. "Your ribs look like someone had a dance on them. I'm not leaving until-"
"Listen to me." Rin growled, cutting across him. "Rider and Assassin are out there fighting Caster right now. The sooner you kill the Master, the sooner we can pack up and leave. And if you waste too much time on me, then we might not all be going home together."
For a moment, a vision of Assassin's corpse lying shattered on the ground flashed across Shirou's mind, like some terrible vision of the future. He clenched his teeth. That was just a possibility. Rider and Assassin could probably take Caster by their own, regardless of whether or not her Master was alive. But that wasn't certain either. He didn't know the full extent of any of the combatants abilities after all. And Rin's injuries weren't fatal, not now that he'd healed the worst of them…
He snarled in frustration. Standing up, he gave Rin an apologetic glance. "I'll be back in ten minutes tops."
"I know it." She said, giving him a pained grin. "Bring me something nice as a souvenir." She paused. "But be careful. I doubt that's the only present that's been left lying around."
"I've got an idea for that." He said grimly.
Behind him, there was movement in the shadows as manifold shapes moved through the door, heeding their master's call.
Constantin bared his teeth in a triumphant smile as he felt the concealed field trigger. While Emiya Kiritsugu might have destroyed his brother's work on the traps, Constantin hadn't exactly wasted his time as the head of the Escherdt family.
Even if they'd survived the fields activation (which was possible, given that only a limited amount of prana could be forced into the field without breaking the concealment) they wouldn't be in much shape to oppose him. Or get past the other three fields.
Despite that thought, yet another field triggered. He frowned. Caster had said that almost a dozen people had entered the temple grounds. If that was so, then how many had come for him personally? Enough to penetrate his prepared defences?
The second remaining field collapsed. One left.
When it broke, he drew back into the corner of the large, lightless room he'd occupied. Another field was wrapped round it, this one not for attack but for allowing him to sense the location of all who entered. In a dark enviroment, it was a critical advantage. Even a magus with reinforced eyesight wouldn't be able to detect his presence well in almost absolute black.
The final field detonated. He quieted his breathing. From the site of the last hidden trap, it was little more than ten seconds to this room. The door slid open and the group entered. He bit his lip. Four of them. If any of them were magi, he'd have to be careful. The moment he ran magic through his circuits, there was a chance that a skilled magi would sense him.
There was a rapid series of sniffs, as if an animal was scenting the air. How odd for a human to-
A terrible thought sprang to mind. What if his pursuers were not human?
No sooner had the notion sprang to mind than one of the group leapt in his direction, its compatriots behind it.
Throwing caution to the wind, he swept out a hand, screaming out an Aria. "Fires of my nightmare, seek the thief!"
A small ball of flame burst into life on his palm, casting a dull illumination into the room as he lifted his arm to throw it. Even as he did so a small, shadowed form leapt at him. His left hand struck out on reflex, catching it dead centre. Rather than throwing it away though, the thing held fast onto his extremity. What felt like tiny claws dug deep into his flesh. A vivid stinging sensation rose in his forearm, as if a wasp was attacking him. Another pain blossomed on his wrist, the feeling of flesh tearing beneath jagged teeth.
He cast the ball of fire at his feet, setting the floor between himself and the encroaching enemies alight. Whatever this thing on his arm was, he wanted rid of it. To his horror, the presences didn't so much as slow down, leaping through the flames without a moment's hesitation.
In the new light, he could finally see the thing that had attached itself to his hand. He nearly screamed in instinctive fear. It superficially resembled a rat, but one from the nightmares of a madman. Six clawed legs held onto his flesh, even as teeth resembling a shark's tore into his wrist. A scorpion's tail lashed out at his forearm and three beady eyes stared at him.
Blind to the pain, he ripped it from his hand in panic, casting it into the flame. Even as he did so, a vicious pain erupted from his leg. He stared down. He wished he hadn't.
If the rat had been nightmarish then these were simply monstrous. Teeth and fangs where none should be, unnatural hooks and barbs poking out from their flesh. There were only three of them, but he couldn't even tell what animal they'd been originally. An animal that vaguely resembled a cat, or perhaps a small dog, threw itself onto his thigh, dragging itself up his body with it's claws. In the midst of the flames, the rat stirred, pulling its flaming body toward him.
Screaming, he stumbled backwards, trying to pull the abomination from his legs. As he grabbed it's fur a fresh scream of pain ripped from his mouth.
It wasn't fur. It was spines. Hundreds and hundreds of tiny, razor sharp spines.
He fell against the wall and if sensing his weakness the monsters went into a frenzy, tearing and biting and stabbing everything they could. His legs gave out and he collapsed. His hand was already swelling, and a burning sensation was beginning to run up both of his arms. They were poisonous, he realised with a dull horror.
He lifted his right arm up, trying to force the words of an aria from his trembling lips. A thrown blade pinned the offending limb to the wall. He stared at it, uncomprehendingly. Another hurled sword pierced through his left shoulder and the fresh stimulus broke his shock, causing him to release a fresh howl of pain.
A fifth presence entered the room. A long, dark coat. A single readied blade. Cold eyes. The man glanced down at Constanin's left hand, where his command seals had carved themselves onto his skin.
"E..ex..Executor…?" Constanin murmured quietly, his mind already blacking out from pain. In some small part of his mind, he realised the abominations had ceased their attack. It didn't matter. His body was already shredded. Venom ran through his veins freely. He was going to die. The man who so resembled the agents of the Church in front of him was merely proof of that.
"I didn't want you to die so easily." The red-headed man said calmly. "But this will have to do."
The blade swung round.
Constanin Escherdt died.
Caster felt it. That sudden yank, as if a plug had been pulled out her spine. Her Master, that cruel, foul man, was dead.
At any other time, that would have been enough to make her nearly exultant. Locked in combat with two Servants as she was, only dread filled her mind.
Every spell she cast now merely drained her strength further, dragged her closer to fading from the world. This battle was a lost cause. She had to flee, find a new Master and regain her strength.
She launched one last salvo of light, destroying what remained of the temples courtyard, then turned in mid-air and dove down towards the town.
Her vision went white.
In her panic and already weakening physical state, it took a few seconds to realise what it was. A few seconds too long. The fog bit into her hungrily.
She heard the words whispered in her ear like a curse.
"Maria."
A ripping pain tore through her, along with a strange sound. Through the agony, she could hear it, that cruel sound existing both on the edges of perception and ringing in her mind like a bell.
Ring-a-ring-a-roses…
She was falling, no power left to sustain her flight.
A pocket full of posies…
Why did she hurt so much? She looked down at her body with blurry eyes. Huge incisions had been carved into her flesh, her very organs torn from their place within her body.
Hush! Hush! Hush! Hush!
The poem rang through her mind, even as the curse tore her body to pieces. She closed her eyes. The ground neared.
We're all tumbled down…
Shirou stared at the body laying in front of him. It occurred to him that this was the first time that he'd killed another human and the first time he'd killed another living thing out of pure hate and spite.
It had been surprisingly easy.
There was no regret, no lingering sense that he'd done something wrong. He was fairly sure that they said you were supposed to feel something like that when you killed. All he felt was a faint sense of satisfaction. He'd avenged Yukika and Rin's injuries, he'd made Assassin and Rider's job easier. The thought made him happy, if anything. He certainly felt better than he had all day.
After a moment, he shrugged. So what if he wasn't reacting like most people did to murder? It wasn't like he'd been a poster boy for normality before this. Dismissing the concerns from his mind, he grabbed the arm of the fallen Master, dragging the body behind him as he left. He'd never had the chance to dissect a dead magus before. If the man was from an established family, there was the possibility he could extract the magic crest from his corpse. Or maybe he could even transfer the command seals out of his body. That would be fascinating.
The flames that the magus had created were already dying away, apparently sustained by his prana rather than any conventional source of fuel. That was good. It saved him the trouble of putting it out himself. His familiars trailed obediently behind him as he left. He'd lost three to the traps but of the ones remaining, only the rat had suffered any serious damage. It would require repair. Or maybe he'd simply break it down into spare parts. He'd decide at a later date.
He stepped out into the corridor and his thoughts froze. Vertigo swelled in his brain and visions danced in front of his eyes. He was hot, he was cold, he was in pain, he was comfortable, he was standing in a forest, he was standing in a desert, someone was forcing his head underwater, someone was slitting his throat, he was slitting the throat of another man, he was poisoning someone, he was being poisoned, he was both victim and murderer.
He staggered, but remained standing. Stars and shapes swirled before his eyes. There… was something he had to do, wasn't there? He was supposed to be looking after something. Where was it? Or was it something else? Faces danced in front of his eyes. A girl with white hair, a girl with black hair, a women with red hair. They were important, weren't they? There was something else though. He was supposed to have it when it lost. Where was it? There was a hollow pain in his chest. It was supposed to be there. Where was it?
He stumbled forward, but felt resistance from his right arm. He was holding something heavy. A body. It wasn't important. But it was interesting, so he decided to keep it.
He walked on.
Assassin landed perfectly, touching on the ground lightly. Maria hummed softly in her hand. She stroked the blade softly. It had done well.
But there was still one target left.
The Mist still flowed around her, her perfect hunting ground. She sensed the desired prey and stalked towards her victim with the grace of a consummate predator.
Within the temple, she found the prone form of Tohsaka Rin. She was unconscious, injuries and the sapping effect of the Mist having forced her from the waking world. Assassin considered her body. As much as would have liked to finish the girl off with her own hands, knife wounds would be too obvious. Shirou might figure something out. No, she'd simply let the Mist finish the girl off. It wouldn't take long, her injuries provided easy weak points for the hungry fog to erode. All she had to do was wait…
"Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?"
She spun round, knives flicking out. Rider stood there, an obnoxious grin on her face and a raised gun in her hand. "Shame about the fog though." A second gun rose to be level with its twin. "I don't suppose you could do something about that?"
Assassin's mind spun. This was impossible. No-one except her could find their way through the Mist. Only those with exceptional instincts could even escape it!
"How did you get here?" She spat out.
Rider raised an eyebrow, then grinned even wider, baring her teeth. "You mean through this fog? Call it luck."
Assassin glared at the buxom Servant, who continued. "More importantly though, I don't suppose you'd drop this pretty little trick of yours? I just don't think that this damp air is good for my Master, you see."
Assassin raised her knife. She'd been planning to simply let Rider fade away after killing Rin, but it looked like she'd have to take a more immediate hand in things. That was fine. Maria could deal with Rider as easily as it had Caster. Rider sighed at her expression.
"All right then. No choice." Her smile vanished. "Golden Wild Hunt!"
A dozen cannons blurred into life behind her, the air rippling around them. Rider glared down at Assassin.
"Now here's the plan. I know you're fast as all hell. And I know you've got some nasty trick up your sleeve, 'cause Caster ain't exactly in one piece anymore. So here're my cards, flat on the table. You'll drop this damn fog, or I'll level this entire building, with Shirou in it." Assassin froze. "And I won't enjoy it, cause I like Shirou. He's an interesting guy. But I'll do it nonetheless, because he's not my Master. Rin is. And I'm not going to let her be killed because of some psychopathic little girl with more issues than the navy has boats! Are we understood?"
There was a silence for a moment. Assassin glared at her. A simple choice then. If she kept the Mist up, Rin would die, but Shirou would likely be hurt, perhaps… perhaps even killed. Her heart seized up at the thought. No… no! Nothing was worth that. Nothing!
She dispelled the field.
Rider smiled again, a little more softly this time. "Good girl. There's hope for you yet." She stepped next to Rin, but kept the cannons present. The threat was obvious. "Now let's just wait patiently for Shirou to get here, shall we? And don't worry," She gave Assassin a wink. "We'll keep this little debacle between ourselves for now."
Assassin said nothing, merely leaning against the wall and staring down the corridor for a glimpse of her Master.
It was barely a minute later when Shirou trudged round the corner, dragging a body behind him. He stopped when he saw them, blinking rapidly. Assassin straightened up, a small smile on her face as she quickly moved towards him.
Shirou collapsed.
Assassin stared at his body, utterly still for a moment, then leapt forward, crying out in near hysterics. "Shirou!"
Rider sighed and ground her face into her palm. She called out after the white-haired Servant. "Just for the record, that had nothing to do with me!"
She stared at the bloody mess laying in the bush. It resembled nothing so much as a bloody slurry, flecks of bone visible in the crimson liquid. But it was alive. She didn't want to watch it, but she didn't have much choice. Something was forcing her to look, her soul held as if in a vice.
It twisted and turned, growing rapidly. She didn't know what is had been originally, but as the seconds passed, its new form became apparent. First the skeleton formed, then the muscles and veins, building up around the white bone like snakes coiling around a pillar. Finally, the skin grew, blessedly covering the inner workings of the body from her sight.
For a moment, the form lay still. Then its, his, eyes opened. Fierce gold eyes peered out of the sockets. The man stood and stretched under the starlight. His dark skin was covered in red and black spiralling tattoos, almost impossibly complex in their design as they stretched across his entire body.
The man inspected his body for a moment longer, then nodded, apparently satisfied. Clothes formed out of raw prana, wrapping themselves around his waist and a red headband curled around his skull, concealing much of his shaggy, dark hair. Covering the lower part of his body seemed to be his only concession to modesty though, as his torso was left uncovered. He turned slowly, until those savage eyes met hers.
"Hello there, young lady." He said, his voice mocking and cruel. "Fancy a chat?"
His tone made it clear that Caster, what remained of her very existence held in a grip of steel, had no choice in the matter.
-End-