Ch 14: Caster's End / Saber's Enemy

There was no sound in this place. There was no future for me here, but that was to be expected right? When it comes to falling, I'm no stranger. I look around me, walls of imitation stone to each side and trash behind me. Even in this modern place with white sterile walls and lavish lights, there was filth out of view. No one with sense will visit this place. The day was about to end and above me was the moon. Despite the craters that dot its surface, it is far above the filth of this world. What would Hecate think of me if she saw me as I am now?

The lunar staff I was given was broken in two by that red headed boy's arrow along with my spine. It easily circumvented my conceptual shield.

The stockpile of mana I had gathered was stolen by that girl's shadow along with my Servant. Was that the true form of the "Holy Grail"? Truly, magi were never to be trusted. I as a magus myself know that better than anyone else.

I stop the bleeding and mend my wounds just to get my thoughts in order.

In my original life and as I am now, I was always someone who lost things. I was someone who was forced to lose things. I was someone who will always lose things over and over again. That was the role I was born to play.

In my youth, the Goddess Aphrodite had taken my will. Without my will, I lost my little brother by my own hand as well as my father's love. I was forced to discard my morals, to aid the man I was forced to love, yet in doing so his friends denounced me. In the end he cast me away when associating with me became a liability. I betrayed others and others betrayed me. At that point, I had no place to return to. I lived the rest of my days as an outsider. I became nothing more than a witch to those around me and I repaid their expectations in kind. If something can be said about the life I had lived was that I faithfully played the role I was given and it seemed that nothing had changed. I was still playing the same role. A witch they branded me and I witch I became.

I hate it. I hate it, I hate it. Even though I despise my role, I continue to play it. To display the ugliness in others meant displaying your own.

All things are lost in time and this "dream" I was living up until now was no exception. I could quickly lay a trap to immobilize my pursuer and turn her over to my side with my Noble Phantasm that severs all contracts. These modern cities were densely populated, if I decided to consume as many souls as I could right now without reservation, I could easily support a Servant. I would be lying if such schemes didn't surface just moments ago, but we spirits were simply parasites to the living.

Souichirou was gone.

It was true that the "Holy Grail" could grant most wishes, but it could not grant my original wish. It could be used to grant me a second life, but…..

Souichirou was gone.

The me right now was only a temporal copy of a woman that may have only ever existed in myths, so all those moments from this "dream", won't even have a chance to fade. What right did I have to impede on the living in the first place? Yet what right did the living have over me? If I struggled miserably here, I would simply be playing the role of the witch everyone expects of me. There is no escaping retribution. I would simply be delaying the inevitable. This Holy Grail War was a stupid farce from the start. A scam concocted by modern magi, but that was to be expected of magi.

Besides, Souichirou was gone.

When I was saved, it must have been a miracle. The one who saved me was no magus, but he took me to the temple, one of the four keystones of the ritual. He had no wish for the Grail, but he saved me and supported me. I have only lasted this long for that reason, yet it seems that miracle was a curse in the end.

Souichirou was gone, but he would have lived if he hadn't met me. It was wrong for me to be hopeful. Maybe it was right of those people back then to discard me? What a joke. If things were going to end like this, I...

Descending from the starry sky, garbed in blue and silver, unmarred and untouched, a being that could hardly ever be called human is what takes up my view. Back then, before I became a witch, how would I compare to this beautiful young princess? Was I not a princess once?

"...Saber," is what I manage to say to the otherworldly beauty.

The petite figure towers over me and she inspects my broken form. "The same robes," is what she mutters under her breath, but there is no hesitation when she raises her unseen sword. There is no place for me to flee. There was no place for me in this world in the first place. To live as a witch and die as a witch, this ending was expected.

"If you've already accepted death, then I'll listen to your final words," she delivers with crystal clarity.

A pure voice without a grudge or deceit, the knight before me, despite seeking the same Grail was nothing like me. She certainly carried herself differently from the "heroes" of my time who reeked of self interest. I like this girl who was dignified and sincere. Her words were a matter of fact with nothing beneath them. She will kill me and she won't sugar-coat her actions. It was a chilling kindness. It was the only kindness she could afford to someone like me. In exchange for that kindness, I'll give her the unfortunate truth with my ailing voice. The truth behind that shadow that had blotted out the straight path I was walking.

"From one victim to another…...I'll give you a warning. We were not invited to this ritual out of generosity, but to be consumed by that empty Grail….. because the modern magi could not prepare the contents themselves. As someone who isn't a magus, your fight here is meaningless," was a truth she should not believe in and she doesn't, yet she does not accuse me of lying. She ponders a bit, but her words are resolute.

"Even if what you say is the truth magus, I made an oath to be my Master's sword," was her response.

It's an answer that suits her, the knight among knights. Saber's Master? That little girl was certainly luckier than my little brother to have that red headed boy as an older sibling. Truly blessed that little girl is to have Saber as well. My situation was pitiful, but how will it end for Saber? What she sought might already be within her reach, but before I could speak anymore I had already spoken my final words. To die like this, is a joke right? I….

Saber brings down her sword.

I bring down my sword.

Magi were tricky folk in any era and all the more tricky if time is afforded to them. My upbringing, my rule and the previous Holy Grail War cemented that fact. Caster could not be trusted, but even so outside her territory without a Master to anchor her, she was in no position to harm me. My immunity to most magics doesn't even have to be mentioned. If she showed any indication of an invocation, I would have bisected her before she could speak, but she didn't. No fear or anger. The knights that served me, the knights that turned against me in the end, the queen by my side, they were the same way. It was the expression of someone about to be executed. She was an enemy of mine, an obstacle to my goal, but I was never one to hate my enemies. To bring about one's wish is to trample on the wishes of others. To me, that's all the more reason to act chivalrous, but others have disagreed. That's why I'll try to listen to the final words of my enemies. That will never change.

My sword bites concrete, the robed body disperses and Caster is no longer in this world, yet all the while, I felt something was off. The robe that remains is carried off by the wind. It alone remains, yet before it disappears from view, it's skewered by countless swords.

"...Of..course.," was Caster's final whimper as her existence ceases. In the end, she tried to escape, but my attention turns to the newcomer.

"You could have died beautifully, but what could be expected from a mongrel?" was that voice.

I turn my gaze and prepare myself for the next obstacle. Up on the roof top, watching the whole exchange was a pair of red eyes. A blonde figure simply stands illuminated by the moon. Even if the clothes were different, standing before me was the same Servant that was in my way when the Grail was within my grasp 10 years ago. He must have been the source of that unsettling feeling.

"All you do is clean up the messes of mongrels, no, failing even that, yet claim yourself a king? If you became my wife, then I can assure you that you won't have to deal with filth any longer," was that haughty voice that could only have belonged to that one man. I try to control my own voice, but the words flow out before I could even think.

"Why are you still in this world Archer?"

Spirits who answer the call of the Grail to take on the role of Servants were supposed to disappear at the end of the ritual. Still, I shouldn't have been surprised. These Grail Wars were never what I had expected from the start.

"To collect what's mine, isn't that obvious? Has it already been 10 years? Are you still not ready?" is what the self-proclaimed King of Heroes says to me.

There was certainly something wrong with these Holy Grail Wars. When I answered the call last time, I expected a competition against heroes of legend, yet at least half of them couldn't really be called heroes as I know the term. The tyrant from last time continues his nonsensical talk.

"Making a king wait, but I'll forgive you. It must have been like yesterday for you. So have you found your answer? Right now, there isn't anyone around but us," is how he converses with himself.

"If you stand in my way, I'll cut you down. That's all there is between us," are the words I use to prepare myself.

There was no issue with the mana I was supplied. My body was at its peak. I was in better condition than the last time we had fought. I may be able to best him this time.

"So, we'll continue our battle from ten years ago? We'll there isn't some low life in the way to interrupt us this time," was the tyrant's conclusion despite the tinge of disappointment.

He raises his arm and with golden shimmers, his weapons wait behind him ready to fly, but I don't give him the chance.

The clustering stars will cut open a path where the light shines!

"Excalibur!"

The roof the tyrant stood on is enveloped in light, but it doesn't mean my enemy had disappeared. A large black shield had absorbed the light and as it is cast away, I see the tyrant. Looking down at me from a throne in the sky, a diamond with wings. It was the same contraption from 10 years that Lancelot had faced. No longer in that modern black attire, he had donned his golden shell.

I don't hesitate. I can't hesitate. I act.

I pick up speed, bouncing against the walls in order to ascend, I rush at my enemy. When I ran out of footholds I let my prana burst against the air and I propel myself skyward with each step. The stars gather in my hand. The air dissipates in the path of my swing.

"Excalibur!"

The light blasts away the projectiles that were thrown so casually at me. I charge at the throne in the sky like a shooting star, yet the throne was quicker. I miss my target and descend back to earth, yet I am showered with metal all the while.

I deflect the swords and use a lance as a foothold to push myself away with another burst of prana. I have plenty of reserves this time around, yet my sword still could not reach him. No, he could not afford to let me get close to him for he was supposedly an Archer after all. I take refuge on a roof, but it was only a minor respite as the sword rain continues.

I run across the space between the heaven and the earth. From skyscraper to skyscraper, with each explosive step, I weave and dodge. My thoughts drift back to that arrow Shirou had used. It was able to track down and hit Caster despite whatever aerial maneuver she employed. Still, would he be able to knock that tyrant off his throne just as easily? I cast away the thoughts. To rely on someone who wasn't a Master, for someone who had no wish for the Grail was arrogant on my part. The Holy Grail War ideally was a battle between heroic spirits. Even though my wish is to erase my own past, there is still a warrior's pride within me.

The throne sits among the stars. The air rumbles. Clustering the stars, I swing my sword once again.

"Excalibur!"

The blinding light scars the night sky, but I am unable to swat down the tyrant as my slash is intercepted. He was waiting to receive as the identity of the rumbling reveals itself.

"Enuma Elish!"

Two forces of equal magnitude clash and for a second, the night had become day. No, they weren't equal because I'm blown away. The pain in my back and the blurring of my vision, it seems I was injured, but where was I?

"Saber! Are you in trouble?" is the distressed voice of my Master that rings in my head. Yes, that blinding light should have been noticeable by everyone.

Distressed voices rattle around. I regain my vision and see the scattered papers and broken desks. I must have crashed through an office building because all around me were confused office workers. Maybe it was from the sleep deprivation, but the salary-men working overtime did not register what was happening immediately. Some were still sound asleep at their desks despite the commotion. Someone reaches for a phone, but before that person could finish dialing, his head was removed with a flying crescent blade and it was then the people started screaming, but it quickly stops. Someone was killed in front of me and as that fact registers, in that time frame, all the other office workers had their lives ended with a shaft through their hearts before they could run away. In a span of a few seconds, all the witnesses were silenced.

"To make me clean up after you, you truly have no talent for cleaning, but cleaning is not a job befitting my wife. You're quite the troublesome woman aren't you?" was that unperturbed voice of the perpetrator.

The golden tyrant descends from his flying throne, but he refuses to step through the wall that wasn't there anymore. He grimaces at the dust and debris. Something was boiling within me.

"Archer, you!" but I'm cut off.

"When I received news that you were in the vicinity, I thought I would gift you with my presence, king of Knights, but it seems you still need time to think. The Holy Grail War is still young, so I'll be patient," were those nonsensical words again.

Before I could get up, he simply flies away.

I look around me, at the tragedy that unfolded. I grimace at the corpses. Ordinary folk simply working to support their families to die in such a way because of me, it's not something I could make up for. Once again, I'm reminded I was a relic impeding on the living. To fail those in the past, yet to fail those in the future as well, I hated the feeling. The present is what it is because of the past. For me who wanted to change the past, it was hypocrisy, but I quickly discard those thoughts. I enter a burning calm.

There was no way that the residents of this city haven't noticed the cracks of light in the dead of night. Three instances in one night no less. As my injuries seal up, I hear the footsteps approaching. I needed to disappear quickly. I exit through the way I came.

I feel the wind on my face. The moon was still up. The stars continued to shine.

"Saber?" was my Master's voice once again ringing in my head.

"I'm fine. Caster has been taken care of, but there is something urgent we must discuss at home tomorrow morning," is all I could report to my Master through our link. If she knew the lives that were lost on my watch, a girl like her wouldn't be able to sleep. Despite what I wish for, I could not throw away my pride.

Buildings scraping against the night sky all around me, they were brimming with light that could be mistaken for stars. Despite what had happened just 10 years ago which was yesterday for me, the people down below continue to live their lives. No matter what horrors happen, humans will always move forward. The buildings that did not exist the last time I had fought were testaments to that, yet it couldn't be denied that there was something sterile about them. They were certainly different from the older buildings on the west side of the river. No matter how much people move forward, something of the past always remains. Even though we of the past have lived our time, we continue to impede on the living.