Chapter 20 – One Promise
(Beta: RavingScholar – Published 02.24.12)
Waver Velvet was many things, but an idiot was not one of them. He was perhaps a bit too trusting of others for a man in his position and a Magus to boot, but he didn't really mind. He had learned that to receive trust, one had to trust the other first, though it sometimes backfired spectacularly.
Having just barely recovered from the sedative his backstabbing bodyguard had administered to him, Waver observed the battlefield from the vantage point of the nearby rooftop.
He wasn't an idiot, so he understood immediately what he was seeing. As if the familiar words the boy had spoken weren't enough of a giveaway, the overwhelming presence that the purple clad woman now exuded was unmistakable to a survivor of the Fourth War.
As if the situation hadn't been bad before, it had now slipped in a total shit-storm scenario. Just how could it be possible that a Servant had been summoned fifty years earlier than expected? Did it mean that the Holy Grail War was actually starting much sooner than it should have?
And why, why, why did he of all people have to be there now? There should be a limit to how much a man's luck and timing could suck, but apparently that wasn't the case for Waver.
And now it was up to him to drag his sorry excuses for bodyguards out of the hole they had dug for themselves. For a split second, he honestly considered leaving them to suffer the consequences of their choices and fleeing before he could be spotted and targeted by the irate Servant.
"You contemptible little worms! " the Heroic Spirit raged. Fury leaked from her with every breath she took. "Violating the sanctity of my home, assaulting me and wounding my Master. Death wouldn't be enough of a punishment for the likes of you!"
Though he was already on the move, Waver knew he wouldn't make it in time. There was just no way.
Jun felt the awareness that victory had just been snatched away from their fingers moments before they could finally claim it. Understanding dawned upon him when he first heard Emiya speak the terms of the Contract. Mention of the Holy Grail was all he needed to figure out the nature of the extremely powerful woman that they had tried to kill, and every remnant of doubt was wiped away when the redhead managed to complete the aria in spite of the deadly wounds they had managed to inflict on him.
He couldn't begin to imagine the circumstances that had brought the present situation: how a Masterless Servant could have existed and acted for so long, and why the hell she had been summoned in the first place when the Grail War had taken place just ten years before.
The only thing that mattered was getting the hell away from there as fast as they could, hoping that the enraged Heroic Spirit would prioritize the health of her dying Master over the retribution she clearly wanted to unleash upon them.
He turned to his wife to signal their retreat just in time to see a blast of light vaporize her legs at knee height. He hadn't even made a full step in her direction before both of his arms disappeared in a similar fashion from the elbows to the wrists, his legs following shortly after.
"GAAAARGH!" they both shouted, writhing on the ground in pain, the stumps of their limbs sizzling from the extreme heat that had mutilated them. Through the blinding pain he barely managed to comprehend just how unprepared they were for this situation. The power of a properly sustained Heroic Spirit wasn't something a human being could or should face, regardless of being a battle experienced Magus.
"Worms are meant to crawl in the dirt, so crawl," the Servant snarled before turning her attention to the man in her arms, muttering spell after spell to heal his wounds. So much for escaping while she was too busy attending her Master. They weren't going to go anywhere on their own anymore.
Forget that. They just weren't going to go anywhere at all. Trapped and wounded beyond recovery in another Magus' territory and at the mercy of an enraged Servant, these were no doubt their final moments. At least… at least he would be near the only person he cared about.
Slowly, he dragged himself toward the fallen form of his wife, ignoring the pain he was in. Jin was probably thinking the same because she was slowly making her way toward him. They had almost closed the distance when they froze, spell bound and completely unable to move.
"If you think I'll allow you will to find comfort in each other, you're sorely mistaken," the woman hissed at them, not having stopped treating her Master as she did so. "Your last moments in this world will be nothing but pain, I assure you."
Unable to move and unable to speak, the soon to be dead Magus could only stare at his wife without even telling her a comforting word. No… he could not tolerate that. Death was something he had learned to live with, but to be so close to the love of his life and unable to hold her… it was the worst possible torture imaginable.
Medea sighed in relief. The bleeding had been reduced a great deal, and as such Shirou's life was no longer in peril. Admittedly, healing wasn't her forte. Bewitching, ensnaring, manipulating and killing were her fields of expertise. Saving lives was something she usually did just to postpone an enemy's death long enough to torture him to her heart's content. Regardless of that, her ability with spells had no equal, and she was therefore confident that she could heal him completely given enough time.
In spite of that, he probably wouldn't be able to walk for a few days, and even then he would be in great pain every time he was conscious. She could of course lessen his burden, but she couldn't remove it completely without interfering with the healing process.
To think that he had to suffer like this because of her… she would make sure to revisit his pains on the culprits by a factor of one thousand.
"You over there," she shouted at the pale and trembling police officer that had been completely ignored in the past few moments.
"W-what?" he yelped. His terror wasn't all that surprising. Actually it was, but in the opposite sense than she would have expected. For someone suddenly thrown into the world of Magecraft and in the presence of a superior entity such as her, he was remarkably in control of his emotions.
"Help me carry Shirou to his room," she demanded.
"Uh," the man stuttered, obviously not particularly interested in getting any closer to her after witnessing what she could do at full power. "Right."
Somehow finding his courage he ran in her direction, shooting a glance at the fallen duo that was a mix of curiosity, disgust and pity, with disgust being the most prominent one.
He was halfway to her when a voice echoed loudly from all directions at once.
"Fervor, mei sanguis!"
A blob of silvery liquid splattered on the ground and coiled around the cop as well as the fallen Magi, dragging the three of them inside it.
"Guah-" the office had time say in protest before he was swallowed entirely by the silver mass.
Medea promptly leaped back with Shirou still in her arms. Just a glance told her what kind of Mystic Code she was against, but she wasn't about to underestimate an opponent right now. Securing Shirou was her only priority.
The Mystic Code didn't attack but rather it moved backward with surprising speed, taking its three prisoners inside along for the ride. So the two worms had backup after all. Did the fool think they could escape her? That he could avoid her wrath any more than his foolish companions could? Such arrogance was already worthy of death in her eyes.
"Wait, Servant of the Spell," the disembodied male voice said before she could do anything. "I'm not your enemy."
"Empty words from a coward that doesn't show his face," she retorted angrily, eyeing her surroundings warily and building up the Prana for three high level spells to be unleashed at a moment's notice. At the first hint of danger she was ready to vaporize the entire neighborhood.
"I'm not suicidal, Caster. I know better than to show my face around a Servant."
"You seem to have at least a modicum of intelligence compared to your friends," she conceded, though anyone who heard could tell that she hardly being appreciative. "What do you want?"
"To retrieve these two fools that disregarded my orders to not attack you and your Master, and to determine if they have set up some other plan behind my back."
"Do you expect me to believe you aren't involved with their actions?" she demanded imperiously.
"Believe what you wish. I hardly have any proof to convince you of my intentions. I'll just take these two and leave. I'll make sure they never cross your path again, even if they were fool enough to attempt something at your expense after your display."
"You will do no such thing," Medea replied coldly. "The only option I'm inclined to grant you is thus: you flee by yourself or die along with them. Thinking about it, I don't think I will allow you even that choice."
"I was afraid you'd say so," the hidden Magus sighed. "That's why I took a hostage."
On cue, Dojima's face appeared from the liquid sphere lying at the opposite end of the courtyard.
"What the hell is -gh," he managed to choke out before being submerged again.
"You should have found a better bargaining chip," Medea scoffed. "I don't even know that man's name or his reasons to help."
"Maybe you don't, but your Master seemed to care enough about him to save his life, and even if he didn't I hardly believe that he would so easily sacrifice a bystander just to sate a grudge. Are you going to disregard your Master's wishes so blatantly?"
"And if I did?" she challenged. He might have been right about her not wanting to upset Shirou by killing an ally… but what Shirou didn't know wouldn't harm him. The gall of this man who thought he could manipulate her of all people angered her to no end.
"Ah, well," the Magus clicked his tongue. "If you did something like that and killed me nonetheless, then I'm afraid that there would be no one left alive to prevent the news of the Magus Killer having a son in Fuyuki from spreading at the Clock Tower. I'd think that with so many Magi just waiting to get back at Emiya Kiritsugu through his adoptive son, this place would be swarmed in less than a week. Not to mention all the Enforcers that would come asking questions should I fail to report back soon. That being said, your Master is in dire need of extensive treatment lest you want him to be a cripple for the rest of his life."
"…" Medea didn't say anything. She had already allowed too many things to go wrong because of her anger. Regardless of the truth behind this unknown person's words, there wasn't much she could do without endangering Shirou's life. To think that she would have to let these people go after what they had done enraged her to no end.
"Very well," she conceded coldly. "But know that there isn't a place to hide from me in the entire world. I will find you and I will make my displeasure known."
"There won't be a need for that, I assure you. Before this entire mess happened, I had intended to approach your Master with a deal, but my elders had a bone to pick with Emiya Kiritsugu and took action behind my back. If it's agreeable, then we shall meet in a week's time to discuss this like civil people, as it should have been from the beginning."
"Are you foolish enough to show yourself before me again?" Medea asked as her brow arched.
"I do have little choice in the matter," the Magus said, sounding genuinely regretful. She could not tell whether that was due to fear for his life or some other emotion. "I still need to acquire what I wanted from your Master in the first place."
"What is that you want from Shirou that's worthy enough to risk your life?" she demanded to know. Ignorance was a weakness she couldn't afford at this point in time.
"Vincent Guilford's Rule of Blood," came the carefully measured reply.
"…" Medea didn't answer with words, but the temperature around her dropped considerably. The thought that all of this had happened because of her former Master served only to fuel her resentment even further. Perhaps sensing her cold rage, the nameless Magus hastily proceeded to clarify.
"Don't misunderstand me, if I hadn't been ordered to acquire it I would have nothing to do with anything that man had laid his hands on."
"Regardless of what your intentions are, what makes you think my Master would part with such a valuable and dangerous thing such as that. What do you have to offer in exchange?"
"Understand this, Caster, Rule of Blood is the recipient of a Sealing Designation from the Association. The Clock Tower will go to great lengths to bring it back. So long as it's in possession of your Master, he will have a horde of Magi coming after him. The sooner he gets rid of it, the better off he is."
"That doesn't answer my question. What do you have to offer?"
"I'm willing to seal all knowledge regarding your Master's existence, and I offer my sponsorship should he decide to join the Association in the future… as well as my experience as Master of Servant Rider in the course of the Fourth War, of course."
While Medea was actually surprised by the presence of a Master of the previous war, she didn't show it in any manner. She calculated the worth of this person's offer versus the risk of letting him and the other two leave alive as well as her thirst for retribution. Ultimately, it was her need to give Shirou a more serious round of treatment that tipped the scale in his favor.
"Very well," she conceded begrudgingly, "but know that if you were to double cross us you will spend the rest of your existence in pain the likes of which you have never experienced before. Do I make myself clear?"
"Quite," he agreed gravely. "Here, as a gesture of good will."
The blob at the opposite end of the garden… blobbed, and a moment after a very startled police officer was shot out screaming…
"Woooahh- ghk!"
… and ended up rolling on the ground several times, reaching a stop only at Medea's feet.
"Fucking alien probes," he coughed with some difficulty. "I'm too old for this shit."
"With that out of the way, I'll take my leave. You'll hear from me in a week time, as agreed." Without waiting for further acknowledgement on her part, the Mystic Code leaped away, taking the maimed Magi along with it, disappearing beyond the wall and out of the Bounded Field.
Medea sighed and turned to the house.
"There's a first aid kit in the bathroom near the entrance," she told the man who was still trying to stand back on his feet. "Fetch it and bring it to me."
"But…"
"Make haste," she said, completely disregarding his protests before he even properly formulated them, "and don't even think about escaping. My Master might care for your wellbeing, but if you betray us then I will kill you were you stand. Now go."
"Ah, whatever," the man said dejectedly. "I give up. This night can't get any weirder anyway."
For a moment Medea thought she would have to give him a painful incentive to get him moving, but he appeared to have made up his mind and moved in the direction of the bathroom. All she had to do now was lay down Shirou and continue healing his wounds as much as she could.
Dojima's ability to think rationally had been lost sometime long before during that insane night, and he was now moving mostly on autopilot. He had seen a lot of crazy his in line of work, from the stupidest pranks gone slightly wrong to some of the most atrocious murders a person could imagine.
His experience had made him more or less unable to be shaken by anything, or so he thought, while adrenaline was pumping through his body. Not anymore. The amount of out of this world shit he had seen in the span of a handful of minutes had completely broken his perception of what was possible and what wasn't, and he was having a hard time coming to terms with this new development.
So he let his instinct guide him, as he usually did when there was no time to think. The boy was wounded badly, and they should have taken him to a hospital as fast as they could. He saw the extent of his injuries, especially the one on his back. It would be a miracle if the boy could ever walk again. His days as a vigilante were over.
Or were they? He had seen some incredible bullshit in one night, and the way that woman had stopped his bleeding by… what was that? Magic. Yeah, magic did seem to fit the bill more than aliens did.
And yet the woman felt alien to him. She had this… overwhelming presence that seemed to make breathing more difficult, as if the air had become suddenly thicker after the boy did… what it was that he had done.
Yeah, Dojima was way out his depth, but he would not remain like that for long.
Having reached the bathroom, he ransacked the first aid kit under the sink and hastily made his way back. He didn't know where the boy's room was, but he just had to follow the increasing pressure of the woman's presence to know that he was on the right way. Of course, the strange lights flashing out of an open door were like literal neon signs pointing the way.
When he reached the source of the lights, he peered inside and saw the wounded boy lying on his back while the woman's hand hovered above his sickening injury. Her lips quickly muttered words he couldn't discern, and her hands flashed through several colors. Dojima held his breath as he watched Shirou's flesh slowly regenerating, starting from deep within his injury and slowly reaching for the surface.
Surprisingly, the woman stopped before the process was complete, using the back of her hand to clear the sweat from her forehead before she slowly turned her patient onto his stomach to repeat the process on his back.
This wound was far longer if less deep, however that didn't mean it was any less serious. The gash on his back went from his right shoulder in a diagonal line all the way to where his left kidney was. His muscles were cut horribly, along with a few of his ribs and most certainly his spine.
Without proper medical help, that would quickly become a lethal wound, but it appeared that this woman, this… Witch could deal with such things in ways he couldn't even begin to fathom.
It took her fifteen minutes to get the process done. Fifteen excruciating minutes during which his bones were snapped back into place and muscles were sewn back together seamlessly. Only an ugly red scar remained of his previous injury.
As she finished she let out a sigh that mirrored the relief on her face. It lasted just a few moments before she realized his presence and sharply turned to look at him.
A different kind of pressure loomed over Dojima. The closest thing he could relate it to in his mind was having a gun pointed at his temple by a very unstable individual. She was undoubtedly pondering if it would be better to dispose of him where he stood as she had promised she would have had he not complied with her demand, or if there was more value to his life than initially estimated.
To his credit, Dojima did not flinch under her intense scrutiny, nor did he stepp back under the pressure. He held his ground and met her stare with all of his willpower. If this were the moment of his death, then he would face it like a man.
"You didn't run," she said as if she was surprised by his behavior, even though it was she who had threatened him with death if he had done so.
"It's not my style to run when somebody needs my help," he retorted as if to remind her that he had not run even before when he was faced with things he didn't know, but met them where he stood.
"Fair enough," she acquiesced with a nod, the pressure disappearing as quickly as it had arrived.
"How is he?" he asked, finally stepping into the room and sitting on the ground on the opposite side of Shirou. She didn't remove her gaze from him for a single moment.
"He will be fine in a matter of days," she told him evenly. "Though he will probably be in pain most of the time until he heals completely. Have you brought the bandages I asked you?"
Dojima handed them over and watched with interest as she took a strange vial out of her cloak and soaked the bandages with its content. She then proceeded to wrap them all around his torso before setting him on his back to let him rest, seemingly peacefully.
For a moment, no one said anything. The woman simply kept staring at the unconscious boy with a look in her eye that could only be called… huh. Dojima wasn't sure how to call it. Caring? Worry? Elation? Her expressions seemed to shift subtly every now and then as her hand idly moved a strand of hair away from the boy's forehead.
"Say," he begun warily, causing her to look at him again with annoyance now on her features, "what are you people?"
The woman shook her head as she said, "This entire night wouldn't be enough to explain it in a way that would make sense to you. … What's so funny?"
"Nothing…," Dojima replied stifling a chuckle but the humor dissipated quickly as she narrowed her eyes dangerously. His tone rapidly sobered. "Sorry. It's just that you said exactly the same thing he told me a few weeks ago when I asked him what the hell was going on in this city."
"So you do know my Master," she said.
Master. Dojima filed away that word for later. It was the second time he'd heard this woman use it to refer to Emiya. Had he been the kind of person whose head tended to land in the proverbial gutter, the connotation of that word would have been definitely sexual, but he was better than that.
"Sort of," he agreed. "As Archer, he asked my help some time ago on a case he was working on. Took me a while to figure out his real name."
"You were keeping him under surveillance," she noted and the air around her seemed to drop in temperature. "And all those weapons you have brought to his house. You…"
"Hey, that was purely for self-defense," he somehow retorted somehow in spite of feeling again as if he were being kept at gunpoint. "I didn't know what the hell was going on; still don't by the way, and I'm fairly sure somebody messed with my memories the last time I staked out this house because I have a black out during which my car magically travelled over fifty kilometers. What would you have done in my place?"
The pressure seemed to relent as he explained himself, her head tilting to the side slightly.
"Memory modification? Hold still."
She reached out with a glowing fingertip to his forehead, tapping it gently.
"The hell are you… -GAH!"
Dojima recoiled. Previously locked memories assaulted his conscious mind: Emiya's house at night, a crazy chase through the streets of Fuyuki and the out of town; an explosion somewhere in the forest, a loud scream among the trees; an unconscious girl on the ground with a twin tailed girl standing by, her eyes peering into his own, dizziness and confusion washing over him; moving as if pulled by invisible strings, and then nothing.
Dojima used a hand to support himself or else he would have slumped to the side. The other was busy keeping his mouth shut, lest he vomit from the sudden sense of nausea and vertigo that had washed over him.
"Do you remember now?" she asked with the kind of voice of someone who already knew the answer.
"Yeah," he replied with a foul taste in his mouth. "I remember a mansion in the forest, a girl by the name of Tohsaka Rin and her interest in my knowledge about Magic. That's what you do, isn't it? Magic."
"Magecraft," she replied as if there were even a difference between the two terms, "but essentially yes, that is correct."
Dojima leaned backward, resting his suddenly heavier shoulders against the wall. Magic, Magecraft, whatever; how was he supposed to deal with this crap? He was just a normal human cop. It was no wonder the kid had any idea how to explain the subject to him in a way that made sense.
Fuck, even if he'd told him outright he would have called bullshit on him and demanded to know the truth. Well, at least they weren't alien invaders or anything among those lines. Wizards… and according to Emiya, there was an entire organization of them that kept things hushed up when something really fucked up happened in Fuyuki.
Damn, that was so far out of league that he didn't know how to measure the distance from him to the problem. Archer was right in saying that he had no way to protect himself and his family from these things with powers and abilities he could neither match nor predict.
And this boy, this… man had been fighting by himself all of this time against these forces. Granted, even if he had the same supernatural abilities it couldn't be easy to deal with a situation like this, Dojima felt
He was ashamed to have even favored the thought of running away, of putting several hundred miles between him and this apparently cursed city, of leaving a fifteen-year-old… man doing all of the dirty work. No, there was no way he could do something so against his nature. Not a chance in hell.
Slowly he turned his eyes from the unconscious man to the woman that was still eyeing him in an appraising manner.
"How can I help?" he finally asked. Her head tilted further in response
"Why do you think you can help at all?" the woman asked, scorn and curiosity present in equal amounts in her tone. "By your own admission, you had no clue about the true happenings of this city. Why would you want to help to begin with? The events of this evening weren't enough to dissuade you from poking your nose where it doesn't belong? If I were you, I wouldn't want to have anything to do with all of this."
"Well, you aren't me, are you, lady?" he snapped. "I'm asking you because I don't know how to help and I want to help because I'm a cop, you hear? Keeping people safe is my damn job, and it's apparent that I haven't been doing it nearly well enough as of late and he," he pointed at Emiya, "has been picking up the slack for everyone without anyone even knowing it. It has to end. Now!"
"Well," the woman said after a long moment of pondering, "at least you seem to be in the right spirit. Most men would have broken much sooner when faced with such life-shaking discoveries, but you have handled yourself remarkably well in the face of unexpected danger. My Master seems to trust you at least in some measure, and you appear to have a good head on your shoulders, which is probably the most important thing for anyone to have."
"Then...," he began, only to be interrupted by her once more.
"Quite frankly, I don't know what measure of assistance you can offer under the present circumstances, and even if I did I'm not comfortable in making agreements without the consent of my Master," she said with a note of finality. "I was already forced to do so once, and I have no intention of doing it again the very same day."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Dojima said, sighing in frustration. "What then, should I just come back tomorrow? Is he even going to be awake by then?"
"My Master is strong," she confidently. "I believe that he will be conscious again by tomorrow morning, but it will be better if you were to come back in the evening. There are a bit too many people in here during the day. It would be complicated to explain to them the situation."
"Good," he said standing up, "I'll do that."
"I'm sure I don't need to tell you that you must not speak of what transpired tonight with anyone. The repercussions if you don't will be tremendous for everyone involved… but mostly for you."
Dojima knew how to recognize a warning and a threat when he heard one and that sentence definitely qualified as both.
"You're right, there was no need for you to say it," he told her, dismissing her concerns in an almost casual manner. Then he turned and walked away, his mind still caught in wonder by the events he had just witnessed. Suddenly, he stopped and turned to the woman that was still watching him.
"I never got your name. I'm Dojima Ryutaro."
"You may call me Megissa," she replied politely before returning to her… Master's side.
With those last words spoken, Dojima left the Emiya household with even more questions than when he'd first arrived. That seemed to be a trend since he moved to Fuyuki. With a shake of the head, he thought, maybe this town was really cursed.
Volumen Hydragyrum slipped inside the hotel room's window that had been wisely left open beforehand, while Waver came in from the door. A small, perhaps needless precaution, but there was no need to have the hotel's employees wonder when and how he got back in.
Slowly, the Mystic Code placed the maimed Magi on the wide bed and then retreated to a corner of the room, ready to act at a moment's notice. With the ease of someone who had seen many wounds, Waver started to treat them as best as he could. He had very little ability with healing Thaumaturgy, but luckily their wounds had no remnants of Magecraft in them. The wounds might have been caused by some very advanced Magecraft, but ultimately it affected only the body and not also the mind or the soul.
Of course, this was a small blessing considering the Cheungs' lives as mercenaries were now certainly over. The Magus community had some very advanced prosthetics that could allow any handicapped Magus to live more or less normally, but nothing that could handle the extended strain of Magecraft enhanced combat. Unless they drastically changed their approach to battle, their career was over.
Sighing, he finished treating the woman and was about to move onto her husband when he noticed that he was awake and staring intently at his wife.
"Mr. Waver… how is she?" Jun asked, voice straining to be level.
"She'll live," he replied evenly. "The extent of her wounds is limited to what you can see, just as yours are."
As if noticing his condition only after Waver brought it up, Jin looked at the empty space were his limbs once were. After a moment he sighed wearily, but gave no other sign of distress.
"You're taking this fairly well," Waver pointed out.
"I might be a mercenary, but I'm still a Magus, Mr. Waver. Accepting death is our very first rule, after all. In proportion, even grave injuries are really acceptable results for something gone so horribly wrong."
"I suppose that is true," he agreed.
"I don't understand one thing, though," he continued, frowning in confusion more than pain. "Why did you come to our aid after we so blatantly ignored your wishes, and especially when it was apparent that the enemy was the most powerful type of familiar?"
"By all means I should have let you reap what you sow," Waver began, "but I'm not the kind of person to simply leave people under my responsibility to die when I can do something to prevent it."
"Under… your responsibility?"
"Of course. You have been hired by the Archibalds, haven't you?"
"But not by you," Jun pointed out. "If we had been working for you, we wouldn't have acted against your instructions."
"I know that, idiot" Waver replied snappishly, being his usual short-tempered self. "If you had betrayed me, then there was no way I would have pulled your sorry asses out of the fire. I am the current head of the Archibald family, and just like you were honor-bound to carry out the orders you have been given, I am honor-bound to take responsibility for what those morons told you to do."
As Jun stared at him incredulously, Waver continued, "What? Do you think I would have even bothered coming here to Fuyuki to solve a mess that they started if I didn't think like that? Like it or not I am Lord El-Melloi, with all the advantages and disadvantages that come with the title. Granted, I haven't seen much of the advantages lately… or ever, for that matter."
Jun let out a pained chuckle. "I must apologize. I have severely misjudged your character, Mr. Waver."
"Yes, well, you're hardly the first one, and most certainly won't be the last." Waver rubbed his eyes wearily. "It can be an advantage in the right circumstances… but a pain the rest of the time."
"I can only imagine," came the weak if amused reply of the wounded Magus.
Waver worked in silence for a few minutes, during which Jin kept looking at his wife beside him.
"Mr. Waver…"
"What is it?" Waver snapped distractedly.
"As a Magus, I have lived without fearing my own death even once. I was more than prepared to lose my life during any assignment, but I realize now that was not ready to sacrifice anything else. Tonight, you saved the one thing I was not willing to lose. I am in your debt, more deeply than you could possibly imagine. For this reason, until the day I have saved something of equal value to you, I'm in your service."
"That's –"
"And I as well," Jin agreed, without opening her eyes, making both men wonder how long she had been awake.
"- completely unnecessary," he completed his statement, which had turned from a vehement protest to a resigned sigh. "You're not going to just let this go, are you?"
"Debts must always be repaid," Jun said firmly, his gaze not wavering in the slightest. At his side his wife nodded just as firmly.
"… I bet he's laughing his ass off right now," Waver said, shaking his head.
"Who?" the wounded Magi asked.
"Just another guy that never listened to a thing I said. The kind of person who would find this situation to be entirely too amusing," he said as he rubbed his eyes wearily. "Nevermind. I accept your pledge; that's what he would do in my place I think. Be warned, though: I don't go easy on anyone."
"We will be ready for anything," they both promised.
"Just worry about getting back... in health," he wanted to say 'back on your feet', but it would have sounded like a very poor joke at the expenses of the recently crippled Magi. His near faux pas didn't go unnoticed, as said Magus let out a pained snort of amusement.
Waver just shook his head and continued treating their wounds. Things just kept getting more and more complicated. What had he done to deserve this?
For the rest of the night Medea sat by her Master's side as he slumbered and recovered. With the urgency of treating his wounds finally passed, she had managed to reach a state of relaxation, or a close imitation of it. In spite of not having to rush anything anymore, or maybe because of it, she now had the time to assess the situation more properly, starting with herself.
She was now bound by a Contract, the deepest form of connection that any sort Familiar could have with someone else. It was both a form of bonding and of binding at the same time, and something she had grown to loathe fiercely in the past. It was, of course, because of her original Master: that despicable excuse for a human being who Shirou had fortunately removed from the world of the living.
However, Guilford was entirely different from Shirou, and that was why Medea was troubled. While she wouldn't have had any trouble in backstabbing the former, she couldn't even begin to think about doing the same with the latter. It was that conviction that was exactly the source of her worries, further shown by the trembling in her hands.
To think that he had almost lost his life because of and for her caused her to feel mixed emotions: elation, for having found someone who genuinely cared for her and paralyzing fear at the thought of nearly losing that same person.
This vortex of emotions swelled within her, making her unable to plan her future moves. The only thing she was certain of was that she wouldn't allow anyone to harm her Master, not even if it meant her life.
Resting her upper body against the wall, Medea slowly fell into a deep sleep, still holding his hand, which now bore the sign of their promise.
The void had no color, no sound, no smell. There weren't such unnecessary concepts like up and down, left and right. Weight was a foreign concept just like temperature, and the flow of time was a subjective notion at best. There was utterly and completely nothing around.
Nothing… except her.
She floated, for a lack of a better word, for an immeasurable amount of time. Alone with her thoughts, she could only replay what had happened over and over again.
She had heard a voice calling to her, a familiar call that had happened before. She followed it through that incomprehensible… swirl that had first welcomed her when was sent hurling through space and time to obtain what she had been promised in exchange for her services. She had just stepped over the threshold of the physical realm for the tiniest fraction of time before her connection was suddenly snapped. She fell backward, remaining stuck in a place that was neither here or there and neither now or then.
She could only wait patiently for something or someone to reach out for her from either side sooner or later. To her benefit, she had plenty of patience and absolutely all the time in the world.
And so she waited, waited, waited, waited…
The fire was everywhere around her. It stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see. It burned more than anything she had ever experienced; yet it chilled her to the bones. The crackling of the flames and the voices of the dying were like familiar curses in her ears, condemning her for the simple sin of being alive.
No, they weren't cursing her. She was but a spectator in all this, looking at events that didn't belong to her no matter how familiar they might have felt.
The curses were directed toward the small, red-haired boy hair that kept advancing unsteadily on shaky legs. His eyes were dull, void of anything but utter hopelessness. They were so different, yet she could never mistake them and her heart clenched because she could do nothing at all, not even look away.
Under her horrified stare he kept advancing, growing increasingly weaker under the weight of the curses that flooded him from all sides, as well as from the black sun that shone in the distance: it hovered ominously above an equally black tower filled with things beyond the scope of reality.
It was a sight that made no sense, even to her who had witnessed things that humans could not comprehend. It was something so nefarious that she couldn't stand to look at it, yet she didn't have the ability to look away either.
It burned and it poured its wicked contents onto the last living thing beneath it, crushing him under a burden that no single person could or should ever bear. It came as no surprise when he finally fell, exhausted and spent, resigned to being consumed like everyone else around him.
She could do nothing for him except weep silently, praying for something, anything to save that precious life which she had come to treasure. For once, her prayers were answered in the form of a man who looked more dead than alive, rushing to his side.
The man's eyes looked equally spent and tired as the boy now beside him, but in his hands shined a light, Gold and Blue that poured all over and inside the boy, forcing away the darkness that was about to claim him.
The boy looked at the man who was both smiling and crying for the small life he had managed to save, an act that somehow had saved him in return. The boy fell peacefully asleep with a clear question in his eyes…
'Could I smile like that as well if I saved someone else too?'
When Shirou opened his eyes again he immediately wished he hadn't. He was in pain everywhere. His back felt like it was on fire and his stomach felt like it had been ripped apart.
… Which wasn't that much far from the truth considering last night…
...!
Pain was immediately forgotten as his mind recalled what had happened the previous evening. His eyes immediately wandered the room in search of Medea… and he immediately relaxed as he found her at his side, fast asleep against the wall with her hand firmly wrapped around his.
She looked unharmed, though she seemed to have cried in her sleep if the tears still running down her cheeks were any indication. Was she having a nightmare?
His attempts to wake her up by calling her name turned out to be an exercise in futility, as his mouth was so dry he couldn't even say a word. With more effort than he had ever thought would be needed to perform such a simple action, he squeezed her hand a couple of times.
She woke up almost in slow motion with a dazed look in her eyes, but she immediately snapped to full consciousness when she met his eyes.
"Shirou!" She nearly shouted. "How are you feeling?"
He mouthed the word for 'water' in response. He wasn't in any condition to make elaborate sentences without wetting his mouth a little.
"I'll be right back," she promised before running out of his room and returning a moment later with a glass full of the much-needed liquid. She helped him lift his head a little and he drank in small sips.
"Better?" she asked worriedly.
"Yeah," he croaked out in a hoarse voice. "Thanks. How are you?"
"You should worry more about yourself, you fool," she frowned. " I don't have a scratch on me, thanks to you."
"Good… good," he said, almost to himself. "What about those other people, and Dojima-san? What happened to-" she silenced him with a finger gently placed on his lips.
"Hush. I've taken care of everything; don't worry. Focus on resting and recovering properly. I treated your wounds as best as I could, but they were extremely serious injuries," she continued, brow creased in worry. "It will take a few days for the pain to subside and for you to walk again properly."
"Guess I'll be skipping school for a while then," he joked, though he clearly was in pain.
"You worry about the silliest things," she reprimanded with a smile. "Let me take care of everything, would you? I'll sort things out with Taiga and Sakura if they come by."
"Hmm… 'kay," he agreed, conscious of his current state of weakness. He trusted her to deal with anything that might come up.
"Do you feel like eating something? I can prepare at least some white rice and some chicken broth."
"Sure, but… you should get yourself cleaned up," Shirou said in mild consternation. "You have blood all over you."
She looked down as if noticing her current state for the first time. Shirou's blood had dripped all over her the previous night, but she'd had far more important things to worry about than maintaining her appearance. However, she looked reluctant to leave his side for longer than strictly necessary.
"I'll be fine," he told her jokingly, smile strained as if reading her thoughts. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Your sense of humor still needs a lot of work, Shirou," she deadpanned, though she did seem to be relieved by his ability to shrug off his condition. "Are you sure you'll be fine?"
He nodded and she stood, turning to leave but stopping at the door.
"Thank you, Shirou. For everything," she told him without turning around, her voice laced with more raw emotions than he had ever heard coming from her.
"Anytime… Medea."
On the way to the bathroom, Medea used part of her barely restored Prana reserves to put the courtyard back in order. The place looked like a war zone, and there was no way of hiding that from Taiga without using Magecraft. It wasn't that much of a strain for her, but since she was still pretty exhausted the prospect of taking a bath became all the more welcome.
Soaking in the warm water was a blissful experience that she would have liked to prolong even more. But of course, she had to take care of Shirou, which took precedence over her own comfort. Hastily drying and redressing herself in clean clothes, Medea quickly vacated the bathroom and made her way toward the kitchen.
… Only to almost bump into Sakura as she did so.
"Ah, Megissa-san. Good morning," the purple haired girl greeted politely. "It's been a while."
"Sakura. How nice to see you." As if! That was the worst time ever for her to visit: with Shirou wounded and unable to move. She had to get rid of her immediately. "Sadly, Shirou-kun is bedridden with a fever. I'm afraid he's got a bad case of the flu. I don't think he will be able to attend school for a few days at least."
"Oh, no," Sakura said, dismay and concern in her voice. "Did you call the doctor?"
"Yes," Medea lied smoothly. "He prescribed him some medicine and told him to rest as much as he could. Shirou is always working so hard. It's no wonder he has fallen sick."
"You're right," she smiled, if a little worriedly. "Maybe this will teach him to take things easier for a change."
"Somehow I doubt it. Say," she said, hoping to change the subject. "I was about to prepare him something to eat. Would you mind helping me with that?"
"No, not at all," Sakura said with a bright smile at the idea. "It's been a while since I last cooked for him. Besides, with him being ill somebody has to fed Fujimura-sensei or else she's going to be grumpy for the rest of the day."
"Who exactly is going to be grumpy, Sakura-chan?" an ominous voice filled with dread asked from behind her.
"Eeep! Fujimura-sensei! How long have you been there?"
"Long enough," the teacher answered with a frown. "So Shirou is sick again?"
"Yes," Medea replied evenly, not missing the emphasis Taiga had put on the last word. Last time Shirou had "been sick" he had later been found out with a foreign woman in his home. "I'm afraid it's really serious this time."
"I'll be the judge of that," she promised as she stormed past the other woman. "Shirou!"
She reached his room in a flash, and with no courtesy whatsoever she slammed the door open.
Taiga's mind immediately registered a number of things as soon as she laid her eyes on her ward: Shirou in his futon, completely covered up to his neck; his deadly pale complexion; and his face covered in sweat.
She immediately felt bad for doubting him, but the feeling lasted a mere moment as her eyes caught sight of the first aid box in the corner of the room, as well as a roll of bandages laying inconspicuously right beside it. That was most certainly not the standard product to take care of the flu.
"Hrmm?" Shirou groaned, cracking his eyes open. "Taiga? What's wrong? Are you hungry? Sorry… can't cook today. Not… feeling well."
She was about to call him out on his bullshit; she wanted to so badly, but Sakura had just reached the room as well so she refrained from commenting. She knew that Shirou wasn't sick at all. No, this was probably the result of one of his reckless nighttime activities, but it was better not to drag Sakura into the argument she was building up toward.
"Yes, well. Make sure to rest properly. We're going to have a nice little chat about the way you keep getting sick lately as soon as you get better. No wriggling your way out of it, believe you me. And you," her head snapped in Megissa's direction, "make sure to take care of him properly, understood?"
Surprisingly, the purple haired woman didn't flinch at all under her fiery glare.
"That goes without saying," she replied firmly. "I'll be by his side all the time."
Taiga kept glaring at her for another few moments before she stormed once more past her and toward the exit.
"Ano, Fujimura-sensei. Aren't you going to eat breakfast?" Sakura asked uncertainly.
"I'm not hungry," she said without turning back. It was heresy even to her own ears, but she really didn't feel like eating, worried as she was for Shirou's well-being It was high time she put her foot down on his shenanigans once and for all.
Shirou sighed inwardly after Medea left with Sakura to get breakfast ready. Even in his weakened state, he hadn't missed the comprehension in Taiga's eyes. She knew, somehow, that he was up to something at night and that he was not sick at all. Well, it wasn't like he was cornered or anything like that. He could easily make her forget the things she didn't need to know, but unless he was willing to repeat the process every time it came up he would be better served coming clean and telling her how things really were.
Of course, he's never thought he could keep under her radar forever. She was very observant when she wanted to be. No oblivious dolt could possibly be a decent Kendo-ka, and Taiga was at national level as far as that sport went. Observing, understanding and anticipating were fundamental traits of those who seriously practiced any martial art. Taiga might have acted the part of a fool, but deep down she was a true martial artist and he knew he couldn't hope to avoid her indefinitely. If he wanted to move more freely, he needed to tell her everything, and hope that she would be able to handle the truth.
Frankly the thought of having Taiga know about Magecraft and the Holy Grail War chilled him to the bone, but with Magi now coming after them and the police snooping around, it was better if she were aware of the details and able to make her own choices. If she wanted to have nothing to do with him after knowing the truth, it was probably for the best.
He didn't believe in manipulating people if it could be avoided, all the more so for those who were like family to him. He was willing to resort to that course of action only if Taiga took the news badly and really freaked out, something that he couldn't allow for the sake of everyone involved.
And then there was Dojima… he didn't know what had happened with him yet, but he was fairly sure Medea hadn't killed him. He'd have to ask later… when he could keep his eyes open… for a longer…period of time.
…
Sakura was reluctant to leave Shirou's house that morning. There was something wrong with him, and it was definitely more serious than some common flu. Fujimura-sensei had figured it out as well but hadn't openly addressed the issue. The only person who seemed to know more was the mysterious Megissa, if that was even her real name.
Sakura wasn't blind. She didn't know what had happened, but something had definitely changed between Shirou and Megissa, at least as far as the latter was concerned: her drive and stubbornness in wanting to prepare his breakfast in spite of not being as good as Sakura was a dead giveaway.
And the final nail the coffin, Sakura knew the look on the older woman's face all too well. She saw it every day in the mirror when she was about to meet him. Yes, no matter how much it scared her to admit it, she was fairly sure that Megissa's feelings for Shirou were the same as hers.
And she hated it, she hated, she hated it, she hated her!
Why did she have to appear and take him away from her? Sakura was there first. What right did Megissa have to be allowed to know his secrets while she was left out? It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair at all!
If only she just disappeared….
No! No, she shouldn't have thoughts like that. Regardless of the circumstances, Sakura knew that she had no claim over him. Sullied as she was, it was better if she didn't get any closer to him than she already was. She knew that better than anyone, and yet…
… and yet she couldn't stop thinking of him, nor she could stop this black feeling from surging into her chest every time she contemplated the thought of someone taking him away from her.
What was she supposed to do to put this black flame to rest once and for all?
Medea returned to Shirou's room half an hour later with a light breakfast on a tray. It had taken her some effort to persuade Sakura to let her take care of Shirou's breakfast, something she had no intention to let anyone else take care of.
Of course, the teen relented only because Medea had allowed her to prepare both lunch and something for dinner in advance as well. Medea didn't know her reasons, but she could now definitely understand the girl better where the resident redhead was concerned. Maybe he had saved her somehow as well?
She had the distinct impression that the younger woman had something…dark in common with her, as well, though what it was she couldn't tell. What was with Shirou and his propensity in helping tormented souls, anyway?
… She knew what it was. She had seen it with her own eyes after all, just like he had done with her. The fire and the curses she dreamt about had scarred and forged him at the same time.
Shirou knew pain, he knew hopelessness, and despair. But instead of being crushed by it or selfishly clinging to it and rejecting everyone else, he turned the knowledge of those feelings into a driving force to help others.
He might have said he was a sinner like her, but there was just no comparison. He used that nefarious experience to make himself into a better person, while she had closed her heart and ruthlessly walked the path of betrayal.
Well, no more. Even if it was just one person in the world, it was one person she would not betray. It was one person she would support through thick and thin at all costs just as he had done with her, and maybe… maybe it would be just what she needed for her to revaluate herself at some point. She didn't know, and it didn't matter either. For once, she could do what was right for no other reason than that it was the right thing to do.
It was funny…just a few short weeks before she would have laughed at the thought. She would have laughed even louder if she had known that such a change was caused by the intervention of an over-idealistic Magus of fifteen years.
Amazing how life still managed to surprise her from time to time, and for once not in an unpleasant manner.
… She could definitely live with that.
XXX
Sevant's s stats page:
Servant Caster: Medea of Colchis – Master: Emiya Shirou (age: 15)
Alignment: True Neutral
Strenght: E
Endurance: D
Agility: C
Magical Energy: A+
Luck: B++
Noble Phantasm: C
Class Abilities:
Territory Creation: A
Item Creation: EX (note: the ability is still limited by the quality of the base materials of the current era, but she no longer has personal limitations in making tools imposed by her status as a Servant. Therefore her ability ranks EX because it can no longer be properly measured.)
Skills
High Speed Divine Language: A
Golden Fleece: EX
Author's notes and a bit of in-universe mechanics (yeah, specifically in this order).
… Why is that many people asked me if put up the last chapter fast because of In Flight and From Fake Dreams? I don't really care for what people think so I'll say this just once.
I have a single criteria for updating my stories, which is putting the new chapter up as soon as it's done and edited (sometimes even before it's edited). This is not a damn competition so I don't try to "ride" the wave of other author's popularity and whatnot. I daresay I've done well enough without squeezing an extra review or two using some dumb update strategy.
With that out of the way let's address a few issues about the last chapter and the universe in general
- The summoning ritual:
I got a lot of people telling me that since Schweinorg is Sakura's and Rin's ancestors they are the only one who can use that specific aria. I disagree. My interpretation of the term ancestor is a reference to the fact that Schweinorg is a Dead Apostle Ancestor and having taken part in making the Heaven's Feel Ritual of Fuyuki, using that particular Aria is like saying "this ritual is patented." Certainly another Aria can be used, but to me that's the most appropriate one unless the prospective Master bothered making a new one by himself and it's not something that requires a couple of minutes to be done. So he went for the "Summoning Ritual for Dummies."
- Mystic Codes and Noble Phantasms:
Yes, I know that Noble Phantasms can exist in the real world as well but let's make a few things clear. Those NPs that can be still found in the world as Noble Phantasms were made as Noble Phantasms to begin with. Fragarach was made by the gods, Avalon was artifact from the Fae that is a Conceptual Weapon, a gate to the realm of the Fae and the crystallization of the wish of mankind for a world without pain. Something like that could only be a Noble Phantasm from the very beginning. Of course I'm aware that the passing of time and the gathered fame can eventually make a normal tool, a conceptual weapon or a Mystic Code into a Noble Phantasm but generally the very passing of time that grants them this enhancement destroy their physical form before they get a chance to reach that point.
- The summoning of Saber:
For those who haven't watched or read Fate/Zero I'm going to inform you that it's the Grail itself that summons the Heroic Spirit in accordance with the offered Catalyst or Magus' character. What the Magus only does if providing an anchor and an additional energy source for the Servant to exist in this plane. On a minor note, most of the sustainment of a Servant it's done by the Grail itself and that why Saber couldn't remain in this world at the end of the Fate Route (and the anime). Of course Rin, being the Prana juggernaut that she is, has more than enough power to maintain a Servant like Saber in this world by herself (though it constantly takes over 80% of her reserves to do so).
- The age of the characters and general timeline
Originally FSN took place in February of year 200X, sometime later the events of Tsukihime (if you are familiar with it, if not that's an unforgivable sin ). Shirou was 16 and in his second year of high school. The story is now about to reach the summer of "200X -1" so it's around 8 months earlier than Canon and Shirou is still 15 and in his first year. Consequentially Sakura is still in middle school and doesn't attend Shirou's school. This doesn't mean that it will take eight more months for the war to start. It will start earlier than Canon so don't breath on my neck about it. It's still a few months away, though. Deal with it.
That's all for now. I hope I made everything clear.
Many thanks to RavingScholar for yet another excellent job at editing this chapter.
See ya soon.