The Hill of Swords

by gabriel blessing

When Louise Valliere performed her summons for her familiar, she certainly didn't expect for it to be a human! Strangely enough, the boy she summoned, Shirou Emiya, didn't expect to get summoned so soon. He hadn't even died yet!

21. Distant Utopia: the Twenty first night

The Hill of Swords: Distant Utopia: The Twenty-first night

Author's notes: First off I'd like to apologize for a grievous oversight. I forgot to mention that last chapter's theme song was 'This Illusion' from the Fate/Stay Night soundtrack. Feel free to reread with that playing in the background. I'm happy to announce that this chapter's music is 'Sword of Promised Victory', also from Fate/Stay Night soundtrack. If you want to wait for the perfect moment to play it, it should be evident enough. Just wait for Shirou to be peaking in his badassedness.

Now, onto the quickness of this update. Whatever fiendish muse that had caused me to update so quickly in the earlier chapters and then abandoned me, well, it's back. And it brought several of its muse friends. And a keg. And then the whole lot of them went wild on me. I finished this chapter the day after the last one had been posted. And then I started writing the next one. I had originally planned on waiting a few more days before posting all three of the completed final chapters, but decided that in commemoration of my earlier insane pace to go ahead and put this one out before the last two were finished. I'm halfway through the next, but will not post that till I have the final chapter finished as well. I have my reasons for that choice, but if you're on the edge of your seat waiting for the conclusion of Hill of Swords don't worry. Trust me. You'll want the final chapter out as soon as possible after the next one.

Now, onto a few specific elements of this chapter. Be warned, *spoilers ahead*

Most of these notes will be concerned about elves. I was reviewing the source material and found that the elf fight in cannon was pathetic. Seriously. That was the best we could expect from an undying immortal race? Hence, I took liberties with it. I would like to point out that the liberties I took are actually not as great as I thought they would have to be. While researching aspects of F/SN I found a good number of parallels between the elves 'Ancient Magic' and good old Nasu's 'Marble Phantasms'. I go into a good bit of depth into that in the chapter. I'm sure that many of you will have certain opinions on my interpretation, and I invite you to express them, even if they're derogatory. I know quite well that this was a risky move to take, and I want the opinions of those of you who are more informed then me on just how i handled it. On this topic, once more, be it good or bad, please, let me know what you think.

As for the rest of the battle, well, this entire chapter was based around setting it up. I tried my best to make the elf into something more than a chance fore Saito (the original protagonist) to have a redeeming moment. I wanted something more than just a well timed void spell here. I wanted something akin to what an undying race could really achieve, so I did my best to make a fight scene worth the reading.

For those of you who like following Shirou's weapons, rejoice! There are two blades used here that are pure cannon Noble Phantasm. I did my best to allow them the opportunity to shine as they should. Let me know if I did them justice!

The final divergence from cannon, and I think some of you might enjoy this, was Louise's first original spell. I tried my best to give FoZ's lead heroine a chance of her own to show just how much she developed during Hill of Swords, and hope that I managed to please any of you out there who might have been hoping for just that.

The moment I finish posting this I'm going back to finishing the last two chapters. Considering how hyped I am, you can expect them to be finished soon.

For now, please enjoy the next chapter of Hill of Swords. If you enjoy it, let me know. If there's anything that stood out, good or bad, tell me about it. And now, on with the chapter.

*Story Start*

It was a scene of devastation the likes of which I found hard to attribute to just one person. It had never been a secret that Tabitha was strong. In the academy she was one of the few triangle class mages, even including the teachers. She had to have been at least line in order to use ice, which required two elements at least to form. But what was around me now as I strode the mansion at Orleans, the place where Tabitha's mother had been unofficially exiled while they tried to kill the young girl, was destruction that was on the scale of what I would expect of Karin.

"Tabitha did all of this?" Guiche muttered as he strode through the ruined parlor, occasionally stopping to finger the vicious gashes that had been torn through some of the walls.

Irukukuu, in her human form nodded, her smile bursting out of her cheeks. "Yes! Big sister is strong! Kyuui!"

"'Kyuui', she says," Malicorne whimpered, slumped over in despair. The day after we escaped I had had Irukukuu reveal herself to the others of the group. If she was going to be traveling with us, it would have to be in disguise. However, the truth is having a dragon in the group was just too important for the others to know. The knowledge that Irukukuu could protect herself if needed, or even fly us to safety if called on was just too critical for the others not to know. Most of the group had taken it rather well. I had been right though:

Malicorne's reaction had just been too hilarious to pass up.

"Until she came across the elf," Professor Colbert spoke up, ignoring Malicorne's mope fest. Since it had been revealed that he had no chance with Irukukuu Malicorne had lost a great deal of his motivation for this little quest, and hearing him whine had become so common in only the two days it took us to get here that everyone had already learned how to just ignore him. "Truly, the Ancient Magic of the elves is a terrifying thing to behold."

"Everyone keeps mentioning how terrifying the elves are," I spoke up, my eyes tracing the scars of battle as I did so. I was trying to put together what happened judging by the marks that were left on the terrain. So far I had only been able to find damage that had no doubt resulted from Tabitha's ice storms. I couldn't find anything that might indicate what magic the elf had used to subdue the blue haired assassin girl. "Are they really so scary?"

The rest of the group let loose almost synchronized shudders at the question. Standing near Professor Colbert and I Kirche wrapped her arms around her waist and shuddered. Professor Colbert just looked down, his face troubled. That set me on edge right there. If even a monster like him was nervous about them, then that was all I needed to know.

"Alright then, what's their magic like? You called it 'Ancient Magic', right? What makes it different from yours?" I tried again. Maybe it was just because I hadn't been raised hearing horror stories like they apparently had, or maybe it was just because the only elf I had happened to come across so far happened to have been one of the kindest creatures I have ever met in my life, but I really wasn't seeing just why the very mention of the species seemed to be enough to cause nightmares.

"It's because their magic uses the logic of the world." Surprisingly enough my answer didn't come from Professor Colbert, whom I had been addressing. It came from behind me at my shoulder.

"Derflinger?" I asked, surprised that the sword had spoken up out of nowhere. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the magic drinking blade was actually sentient. Despite the fact that it could talk, Derflinger was still a sword. It didn't think or react like a human did. The last few months had mostly been a routine of training and living normal school life, events which didn't seem to interest the blade that much. What did a sword care about starting rumors, or involving itself in schoolyard or even country politics? The only time it generally added to the conversation was when Louise and I were busy working on her void magic, providing stories or explanations from its time under the Founder Brimir. Well, that and whenever events seemed to spiral so far out of control that it couldn't stop itself from laughing at them. Apparently some of the situations I seemed to find myself in were so utterly ridiculous that the sword found the novelty of them humorous even after its six thousand years of existence.

"When human mages use magic," the sword continued, sounding serious for the first time since we left Albion, "they impose their logic upon the world, making the elements obey their will. However, Ancient Magic is different. Instead of opposing the logic of the world it uses it, changing it to the magic users will. What's stronger, partner: a human's will directing a fire, or the will of nature itself directing a fire?"

The will of nature instead of the will of the user? But that sounded like…

I froze, and broke into a cold sweat. "Derflinger," I said slowly. "Are you telling me that to use Ancient Magic is to be a wielder of a Marble Phantasm?" I shook my head. "No, don't bother answering. That must be what it is. Even if it isn't the same, it's close enough that it doesn't matter." I wiped the sweat from my forehead and let loose a shaky breath. "Marble Phantasms. Root be damned Marble Phantasms."

"Shirou," Professor Colbert spoke up, "What are you talking about? What are these 'Marble Phantasms'? Is that what your homeworld calls Ancient Magic?"

Recovering my composure I nodded slowly. "It sounds similar enough for me to say that. If it is, than that means I've been taking the elf threat far too lightly." I knit my brow in thought as I considered what this meant for the rescue attempt; if we were facing something like that than this whole task just upped its seriousness to another level.

"It seems like a rather silly way to call something so powerful," Montmorency muttered, sounding unsure. "Marbles? They're not very imposing at all."

"Indeed," Guiche chimed in, also sounding doubtful. "Are you certain that you are correct? Surely if your home was aware of such things they would give them names which are more suitable to their power."

"The name comes from the way the ability works," I informed them, as I continued to study the room at large with greater intensity. Depending on the abilities of the elf, there might be some kind mark to just how the creature used its powers.

A series of clatters from behind me drew my attention back to the others. It seems that Professor Colbert had dropped his staff at the same time Guiche had knocked over an expensive looking vase that had somehow managed to survive the battle, all while Montmorency had apparently stumbled over the leftover remains of an ottoman. The rest of the room was staring at me, except for Irukukuu who seemed to be more concerned over playing with what looked like a broken chair. "What?" I asked, my hand drifting to my sword as I searched the room for whatever it was that had startled them. "An enemy?"

"You know how Ancient Magic works?" Professor Colbert whispered, his hand shaking.

"Wait, what?" I asked confused by the response. "Don't you? Just a second ago weren't you about to explain it to me?"

"Nobody knows the specifics of Ancient Magic besides those who use Ancient Magic, partner," Derflinger told me and I glanced back at it, now definitely confused.

"But weren't you just telling me about it?" I asked the sword, my eyebrow knitted with puzzlement.

"Even Brimir never could figure it out completely," the sword admitted sheepishly. "He thought he might of, but even with the power of the void he was never certain whether or not he'd survive a battle with an elf, so he usually fled when he came across one."

"Well," I admitted, "If he was right about his suspicions then yes, I suppose I do know how it works." I turned away from the sword to continue my investigation of the room at large only to suddenly find my entire view filled with the flushed face of Professor Colbert. "Gah!" I yelped, stumbling backward. How in the Throne of Heroes did he move that fast?

"Shirou! You must tell me how Ancient Magic works!" the Professor declared, his hands lashing out like snakes to grasp one of mine. He fell to his knees in front of me, desperately clutching my captured appendage as he shamelessly begged. "Please! Please instruct this unworthy one!"

I swallowed slowly, trying my best to surreptitiously free my hand from his. "Um, there's no need to be so…." I froze as my other hand was captured. Glancing away from the bowing Colbert I found the other limb now to be in the clutches of Kirche. Her eyes gleamed up at me playfully as she started bowing the same as Colbert, though she made sure to pull my hand so she was holding it against her chest. "What are you doing, Kirche?" I asked, my voice strained as I tried to free myself.

"Just trying to make sure I'm near when Professor Colbert drags you away," the redhead told me saucily. She leaned over so that she was pressed against the professor who didn't even notice her presence as he continued debasing himself as though I was an idol of an ancient evil god and he was a cultist trying to use my power to strike down his oppressors.

"Um, Louise," I called desperately, looking for help to escape. "A little help here?" It seemed the pink haired girl was also curious but not to the same level as Colbert. My Master rolled her eyes and set over to start prying the two off of me, starting with Kirche.

"Sir Emiya," Guiche spoke up from nearby. He, Malicorne and Montmorency had also approached, though at a more sedate level. "If you know of Ancient Magic, then please, explain it to us. If we were to face the elf, it might be a matter of life or death for us." At least the blond swordsman had his priorities right. Whereas Professor Colber only seemed to want to know for the sake of academia, Guiche was trying to learn so he would know what to expect in battle.

"Well, the first thing to remember is that anything is theoretically possible," I started, and that seemed to be enough to get Professor Colbert to release my hand. I blinked and where a second ago he had been clutching me desperately he was now standing right in front of me, leaned over in intense concentration and clutching a pen to an open book. Kirche on the other hand continued to remain latched on, with my pink haired Master pulling her off.

"Anything is possible?" Professor Colbert prompted when I shook my head, trying to figure out how the man was just so Root be damned quick. "What do you mean?"

"Technically it's possible that lightning would strike the ground around us right now, or that a complicated series of meteorological events would cause a tornado to form directly around us, or that a small earthquake would erupt beneath us and cause a spike of rock to shoot out of the ground," I elaborated. "Any of these things could happen at any moment. It's just extremely unlikely that they would. A Marble Phantasm is the ability to cause things like that to happen with absolute certainty."

"Wait," Derflinger spoke up, sounding confused. "That's it? That's Ancient Magic?" Professor Colbert looked up at me with begging eyes, pleading with me to elaborate.

I sighed. "Well, in a nutshell, that's what it is. The actual mechanics of it are more complex." I rubbed my head, trying to figure out how to explain it. "For one thing, it's generally impossible for a human to achieve that effect. It's like you said, humans use magic by imposing their own logic on the world. The truth of the matter is that we, as a species, are too far removed from nature to truly understand it. I mean, when we're babies our parents have to warn us not to touch a lit match because it's hot, or to stay away from lakes or we'll drown, right? Have you ever heard of a baby animal doing something like that? Accidently killing themselves by walking into a fire or drowning? Even though they're not as intelligent as us, they still are connected to nature enough to know not to do something that stupid."

"And how does this connection to nature make it impossible for a human to use Ancient Magic?" Kirche prompted, sounding confused. Louise had managed to pry her hands loose enough for me to reclaim my own.

"When a human manipulates magic, they have to use their own logic to do so, like Derflinger said," I explained. "This logic is different from natures, so it is much diminished in effect. However, if something with a greater understanding of nature were to attempt to do the same thing their spell would be instantly more effective because its working with nature rather than imposing its own will on nature."

"That fits in with what we know," Colbert murmured, chewing on the feathered edge of his pen before dipping the point into the inkwell.

"So why do they call it a 'Marble Phantasm' in your world then?" Montmorency spoke up, seeming more focused on the name itself then the explanation I was giving. I suppressed a grimace, not just at the question but at the girl herself. Regardless of the fact that she was the only water mage of the group, and a skilled one at that when it came to healing, it didn't change the fact that she just wasn't a combatant. I didn't like her that much in the first place, seeing as she was the one among the nobles gathered who was still the most spoiled and self centered, and the potential of her being a millstone around our neck if we ever got in a fight only cemented my distaste for her presence.

"Let's say you were to have a jar that had one hundred black marbles and one white marble mixed up in it," I said, using the metaphor that gave the ability its name. "If you were to be blindfolded and reach in and pull out a marble you would have a one in a hundred chance to pick out the white marble. A Marble Phantasm is the ability to always pick out the white marble, regardless of how many black marbles there are. In other words the user of the phantasm isn't making a fireball or a blade of wind. Instead, they are causing nature itself to make the fireball or the blade of wind. It's when a creature is so connected with nature or the reality around it that it is in essence remaking reality to obey the creatures will."

"T-that's unreal," Louise stuttered, her eyes wide at my explanation. It seemed Derflinger admitting that even the Founder, the most memorable master of void magic in this world's history, being out matched by Ancient Magic had unnerved the girl.

"It's different, but it's also limited in its own way," I admitted, trying to reassure her. "A Marble Phantasm is limited in its effects to what nature can produce. And even then, they can't change reality permanently. Nature will eventually correct itself. Plus its effect is limited by the user's imagination as well. I mean, look over there," I nodded over at Irukukuu. The dragon had apparently collected all the pieces of the broken chair and reassembled them. As the rest of us watched she then happily sat on the now put back together piece of furniture. Naturally, it fell apart under her wait, causing the dragon girl to fall back to the ground with a startled 'kyuui!'. Malicorne sighed at the sight, looking forlorn. "Even though Irukukuu is changing reality itself right now to make herself into a human, it doesn't change the fact that she's very young by her race's standard, and, well, not to bright."

"Adorable, yes," Kirche nodded, watching as the dragon girl managed to right herself and began to reassemble the chair again, puffing her cheeks out in determination. "Bright, no."

"The problem is, just how powerful is the elf?" I rubbed my forehead in irritation. I had to ask, but it didn't change the fact that the question I was about to put out just couldn't be worded without sounding stupid. "I need to know: if you kill and elf, will it die?" The rest of the group glanced at each other in confusion.

"Shirou, pretty much everything dies when you kill it," Louise told me, speaking very slowly as though she was addressing a child.

"Indeed, Sir Emiya," Guiche added, sounding reluctant. "It seems natural that such a thing would happen."

I grimaced and closed my eyes. "In my homeland there is a species of creatures called the 'Shinso', the True Ancestors," I said flatly. "They are, for lack of a better way to describe it, the beings closest to true immortality. They are undying creatures whose connection with nature is so great and their natural power so vast that even if you were to carve them into a hundred pieces, they would simply be able to reconstruct themselves. If you were to burn them to ash, they would just regenerate from that ash." I opened my eyes, my face dead serious. "I already know that elves are pretty damn close to undying as it is. What I need to know is that if one is killed, will it die?"

My dark tone let the others know just how important this question was. Surprisingly, it was Montmorency who spoke up. "I remember hearing about some battles were humans managed to kill elves in the past. I think human's won at the Battle of Toule."

"But that was when the humans had an army of about fifty thousand and the elves only had around two thousand," Malicorne spoke up, his high pitched voice cracking, probably as much from nervousness as puberty this time.

"Five hundred," Guiche corrected, swallowing as he did so. "The number of elves was reported higher than it actually was so that the shame of such a close victory under such conditions would be lessened."

"So they can be killed," I breathed, not caring for just what the ratio was, sighing in relief. "That's all that matters."

"Amazing," Colbert whispered, scribbling away in his book. "If only humans could somehow manage to do such miracles."

I shrugged. "It's very, very rare, but with enough training or practice sometimes a human can change their own perception enough to perform if not the same then similar magic," I admitted.

"Really? What an amazing thing!" Colbert crowed, closing his eyes in blissful thought.

"Now, why don't we get back to figuring out what happened here so we can…" I started, getting ready to put us back on task when I was interrupted.

"Oi, partner," Derflinger spoke up, its voice serious. "There's something I have to ask."

"Oh? What is it, Derflinger?" I blinked in surprise. It's not like the sword to interrupt, or ask questions for that matter.

"Your magic," the sword said bluntly. "It's Ancient Magic too, isn't it?"

The room as a whole froze. The only noise was Colbert's book clattering on the floor when it slipped from his frozen fingers.

I was silent for a moment. "It's not quite at that level, but its closer than most humans ever get," I admitted flatly.

"W-w-w-what?" Louise managed to stutter out. Montmorency made smacking noises as her mouth opened and closed rhythmically without anything managing to get out.

"I'd wondered for a while now," Derflinger admitted, still serious. "If it were just a matter of you making swords like noble boy over there," Derflinger made a jiggling motion at Guiche who seemed incapable of doing anything besides blinking, "that would be one thing. If you were maybe enchanting them too, that would be another thing. But some of your swords are just too much. Like that one that you almost used on noble girl there," and this time Derflinger jiggled at Montmorency. "That one had awareness. You can't just enchant awareness."

"True," I admitted. "But like I said, it's not a true Marble Phantasm. My perception is different from most, but it's still too human to cross that line."

"W-w-what?" Louise managed to stutter out again.

I sighed. It looks like I was going to have to explain myself if I really wanted anything to get done here. "I told you before, Master," I addressed Louise directly, ignoring the rest. "By the standards of my homeland I am a complete failure as a mage. When I was creating my Tracing skill, I was doing the original projection skill wrong. During that time, and due to certain other factors, my skills strayed from that which would be considered magecraft."

"B-b-b-but," Louise managed to get out, "but how is what you do different?"

"Yes, Shirou," Professor Colbert enthused, book back in his hand and writing eagerly. "How is it different? Describe it in minute detail! Leave nothing out!"

"I told you before, Louise," I continued, ignoring the enthusiastic professor for the sake of my sanity. "I can recreate any sword I see. I don't think you realize the scope of what that means." I held my hands in front of me, as though cradling a blade that wasn't there.

Trace on.

"This is the sword that was wielded by the fifth person of the fifth squad that I attacked during the Battle at the Hills of Saxe-Gotha," I said, tracing the weapon. I detraced it and replaced it with another. "This one was wielded by the fourth guard we came across at your manor when we visited there." Another sword came out. "This one was wielded by the chief orc when we were cleaning out the Temple of Brisingamen." Another. "The second lieutenant of the Musketeer squad during our third meeting with the princess." Another. And another. And another. "Every weapon I have ever laid eyes on, no matter how briefly, is mine."

"Amazing," Colbert muttered, scratching away. Apparently, Derflinger disagreed.

"Humans do that kind of thing all the time," it pointed out. "There have been plenty of people out there who have perfect memories or never forget anything."

"True," I acknowledged. "But it's more than just their shapes for me. When I trace a weapon, I trace every piece of it. I recreate the exact structure, the forging process, its age, even its battle experience. Thus when I recreate a weapon I can even recreate the powers it accumulated through the years."

"So," Derflinger said slowly, then hesitated. "So partner," it began again, making a gulping noise. "Could you even trace…me?"

I let loose a crooked smile at the blade. "No," I admitted. "You're the second blade that I couldn't make, and part of the reason why what I do isn't a true Marble Phantasm. There are some things that I as a human just can't comprehend enough to recreate." The admission seemed to satisfy the blade, and strangely enough seemed to relax the others as well.

"Why not?" Louise asked, sounding like she was getting back in control of herself. "Why can't you…trace…" she used the strange word as though it didn't quite fit right in her mouth, "Derflinger? Or the other blade?"

"In the case of the other blade, Ea, the Sword of Rupture, the blade which cuts both heaven and earth apart, it was because it was made out of a fallen star," I explained softly. By the Five True Magics, even now thinking of that sword caused me to shiver. It had been unnatural to see such a thing, something so alien and different, so much so that it had nearly caused me physical pain to have been in its presence. "I simply could not understand it. In your case, Derflinger, it's because of your age. You're over six thousand years old," I reminded it. "It's just impossible for someone like me, a human, to comprehend that kind of time."

"Ah," the sword said, sounding happy for the first time since it started the conversation. "That makes sense! Man, that's a relief. I was worried what might happen if you ever did something like that to me! I mean, what would I have to talk about with myself?"

"Yeah, meeting yourself can be kind of annoying," I admitted. "You might just discover that you're a jerk."

Stupid Archer.

"So is that why you know so much about Ancient Magic, Sir Emiya?" Guiche asked, sounding more at ease now. In fact he looked like some of his confidence, which had been unusually low since we began this adventure, was starting to return in spades.

"Partly," I admitted. "My homeland has studied these kinds of things a bit more thoroughly than yours has."

"I feel relieved!" Malicorne pronounced, also sounding a great deal more cheerful. "If we have Ancient Magic on our side as well, then even if we do face an elf than we can win!"

"Well," I pointed out dryly. "It doesn't change the fact that if we do face one it'll be a centuries old creature that has experienced probably thousands of more battles than I have, developed skills so outlandish and powerful that it will most likely regard us as insects to be crushed, and also have the ability to manipulate all of nature around it, instead of just weapons like I do." And there the confidence went back out of them as they deflated to the ground like balloons that had been popped. "Let's worry about finding Tabitha first, and then we can figure out what to do about ancient unstoppable killing machines."

"Well," Kirche murmured, stroking her chin, "when you put it that way, I kind of want to celebrate being alive a bit first." She then grabbed both my hand and the hand of Professor Colbert, causing the professor to drop the book he was still writing in with a yelp, and began to drag us out of the room. "You children keep looking for clues, while Darling, Beloved, and I have life reaffirming sex, won't you?" she tossed over her shoulder in a singsong voice.

"My research!" Professor Colbert wailed, not noticing his impending seduction as he desperately tried to get his book back.

"Master! Save your loyal Servant!" I yelped as well, trying to retrieve my arm from the vice like grip that Kirche had managed to attach to me with.

"Kirche!" Louise yelped, sounding outraged once more. Beside her Montmorency sighed and sank her head in her hand while Guiche shuddered at the thought of a threesome that only involved one girl and Malicorne shook his fist at his lack of a love life. "Not the time, Kirche, not the time!"

Considering just how much the redhead's actions seemed to lighten the mood, I couldn't help but wonder if that had been her desired response all along. I wouldn't put it past the devious Germanian.

Still, that didn't change the fact that I was in grievous peril of being ravaged.

Just when I was ready to start fighting back, a noise at the edge of the room caused everyone to stop and wheel about.

"Looters? Get away from here, you scavenging dogs!" a voice came from hallway, revealing the source of the noise to be what appeared to be a butler that had fallen on hard times wielding a candlestick and prepared to fight to the death.

He was also apparently an angel in disguise because Kirche instantly stopped her attempts to drag Colbert and me into the dark. "Percerin?"

The butler froze, peering over towards where he had apparently heard his name. "Lady Zerbst? Is that you?"

"Percerin?" I asked, confused at how Kirche had apparently known the manservant.

"He's Tabitha's mother's chief butler," Kirche explained, sounding excited. "He might know where they have taken her!"

I turned back to the old man and let loose a grin. Finally. Something useful showed up.

*Scene Break*

It was later that night in the crowded room of a cheap inn that all of us gathered together to pour over a map and use the information that we had gotten from the butler to plan our next course of action.

"So where is this Alhambra Castle?" I asked, studying the map carefully. Colbert pointed it out easily enough, on the far side of Gallia.

"Here," the professor said, his voice serious as well. "It's all the way on the other side of Gallia. It will take several days of hard travel in order to reach."

"However hard the travel will be doesn't matter," Kirche declared passionately. "We will need to hurry. There's no telling how long we have before whatever sentence they decide upon is done."

"It's not just a matter of how long it will take us to get there," Louise muttered, studying the map carefully, "but also how long it'll take for us to get back." I glanced at my Master, proud at the perceptiveness of her statement. "Don't forget we'll probably end up being pursued after we rescue her."

"It is no easy thing to cross a country while being chased by soldiers," Colbert admitted, sounding as though he was reliving a memory he was not very happy with.

"Truly, such an event is not one I wish to experience," Guiche spoke up also studying the map. The only other one in the room was Irukukuu, who was already asleep despite the relative earliness of the evening. Malicorne and Montmorency were out back, preparing our caravan for our departure. I don't know how the noble girl had found the supplies she had brought us, but somehow she had managed to locate both a brightly colored wagon and enough costumes for the lot of us to disguise ourselves as circus performers. It was a curiously effective disguise for us. On one hand we managed to attract the attention of everyone we had passed on the way here, but the attention was tempered by the fact that our disguises covered a good portion of our features anyway. Except for Kirche's that is. She had decided on a dancing girl costume for herself, though the lack of covering in her case was every bit as distracting as the rest of ours. "Perhaps we should not then?"

"What do you mean?" Louise asked, trying to understand what the blond swordsman was saying. Guiche leaned over and traced a route over the map as he answered.

"If we instead cross north into Germania, then will not Gallia be forced to halt its army at the border?" he proposed.

I nodded considering. "However, if Gallia were to demand our capture then they might be able to compel Germania to hunt us themselves."

"No, look here," Kirche pointed out, tracing a path herself. "I know this area well, seeing as my family owns land near there. If we can reach it then I can guide us through until we reach the Zerbst estates. Once there we will be protected until we can cross back into Tristain territory."

"That is true," Colbert murmured, liking this plan. Louise on the other hand shuddered. It took me a second to realize why. Not only would it involve her being forced to rely on a Zerbst, something that seemed to be anathema to her Valliere name, but the nearest place to cross back over would be to the Valliere territory itself, which would mean…

I suppressed a shudder myself.

"We will need to inform Henrietta about the change in plans so she can let the Valliere family know to expect us," I said with absolute certainty.

"But there is no way for us to deliver a message to her Majesty," Guiche pointed out, worried. "There are already warrants out for our arrests. It would make it difficult for us to get an audience with the Queen."

"There isn't one out for Professor Colbert yet," I pointed out. "He'll just have to go back."

"I don't like the idea of leaving you all by yourselves," Colbert pointed out, sounding resistant to the idea. I didn't like the idea of throwing away such a potent combat asset either, but the options…

"It would be a shame to make it back to Tristain just to be killed at the border," Louise supplied, looking white as a sheet. I nodded seriously in affirmation. This seemed to surprise the rest of the group.

"But why would we be in danger once we're back in Tristain?" Guiche asked, puzzled.

"Louise's mother is Karin the 'Heavy Wind'," I pointed out bluntly, "and Louise has just been arrested for treason."

"What!" Guiche and Kirche snapped, turning to stare at the white faced Louise.

"Ah! So that's where you met…Karin…." Professor Colbert started out enthusiastic, and then seemed to realize just what I had said. "Ah," he admitted. "Yes, it would be a shame to die after all that, wouldn't it?"

Guiche and Kirche didn't seem to know what to make of Professor Colbert's agreement, turning to look between him, me, and Louise. That absolute seriousness we spoke of us dying seemed to unnerve them.

"This way if we do get captured once we're out of Gallia, Henrietta could be prepared to request our extradition as well," I pointed out. "Germania would probably be much more inclined to hand us over if that happened than Gallia would."

"Shirou," Colbert said seriously. "I don't want anything to happen to any of my students."

"I'll keep an eye on them," I assured him dryly. He leaned over and put a hand on my shoulder, drawing my gaze to his serious expression.

"I consider you one of my students too, Shirou," he said seriously. "You take care of yourself as well," he ordered.

I met his eyes for a second, and then let loose a small grin. "Understood, Sir."

*Scene Break*

It took us ten days of travel to make it to the city at the foot of Alhambra Castle. The castle itself was a mostly abandoned structure, which at some point had been constructed as an outpost in the war against the elves. It had been supposed to be man's triumphant declaration that they would sweep through the desert that lay beyond it, which had been claimed by the elves at some point in history, and take back their holy land which lay beyond.

That had apparently lasted until the first battle with the elves which had ended in total route for the humans. It had apparently taken less than a week before every man, woman, and child who had dwelled in what had been supposed to be an impenetrable fortress had been slaughtered.

It seemed that some time later a treaty had been made with the elves, and humans had been allowed back in, forming a city at the base of the ruined citadel, but that the castle itself had never again been used as a military base. The region surrounding the desolate castle and the town at its foot was harsh and dry, as could be suspected of a city at the edge of a desert which was oddly enough named the Sahara, just like the desert back in my homeworld. It wasn't the first name I had noticed that had similar natures as those that were found back where I came from, so I paid the similarity no mind. The buildings were tan brick constructions, resembling what might be found in any desert region back where I came from, and most of the trees in these regions were tough citrus plants.

The very day we arrived we were able to discover all the information we needed. It had taken Kirche getting one soldier drunk on both wine and the Germanian's lush and mostly exposed beneath her dancing girl outfit body to confirm the presence of disgraced royal family members that were mother and daughter at the castle. After that Malicorne using his wind magic spell called 'Distant Vision' had been able to count the number of guards as being three hundred swordsmen with ten nobles as their commanders. There had been no way to confirm the elf's presence, but I personally had my doubts. However it was that the Gallian government had managed to get the services of one of the sworn enemies of their race, it was entirely possible that whatever deal they had made was over. Perhaps they had simply hired one as a mercenary, or requested ones service as part of a deal over something or other. Whatever the case, elves were potent as both fighters and deterrents through fear. It was entirely likely that the elf had already been called away to take care of some other matter.

Likely, but not certain.

Still, the plan that had been developed was simple, but potentially effective. Montmorency would be called to use the potion skills which had troubled us so in the past to make as much of a sleeping potion as he could, while Guiche was sent around town to buy up every drop of wine he could. Once dowsed, we would approach the guards themselves and offer them the chance to purchase back both the wine, and the opportunity to ogle some half naked dancer girls. Once they were all conked out, it was just a matter of opening Tabitha's cell, and then running like hell north towards Germania.

All the preparations had been made, and the only thing left to do was for Kirche to try and get some basic dancer skills into Montmorency and the human shaped Irukukuu. I was doing my best to rest up for the evening so I could be in top shape if anything went wrong. However my attempt at sleeping was being hindered by an unexpected distraction.

"Look! Look look look! Look Shirou! I have breasts!" Louise was happily singing while bouncing her apparently newly discovered chest which was wrapped in a dancing girl outfit with her hands. When Kirche had taken the other two girls away to start showing them how to shake their money makers she had ordered Louise and I to rest up for the evening. Louise had naturally taken that as an insult to her figure, and in retaliation had put on her own dancer outfit so that she could prove that she could compete when it came to figures

It quickly became apparent that she had only been doing that for the principle of the matter. When she had discovered that all unnoticed her figure really had been developing over the last few months, she had quickly forgotten her outrage in order to flaunt her developing chest.

"Yes, Louise. I noticed," I assured her dryly from where I was laying back on a cot with my hands behind my head and my eyes closed.

"Not too big yet," she muttered from where she was standing in front of a mirror and presumably ogling herself. "But Cattleya always told me she was about my size until she got her growth spurt. Shirou! How big am I compared to Cattleya!" she demanded of me.

"Not quite there yet, Master," I assured her.

"Hmmmm. How much longer! Shirou! Do you have weapon somewhere that can make them grow faster?"

"Why certainly, Master," I told her dryly. "Because the first thing I think of when I consider swords is their potential for mammary enhancement."

"Hah! Take that Kirche," she continued, confirming my belief that I was in the room not so much for meaningful conversation but more for the sake of her having an audience to crow to. "Who's flat-chested now!"

"Most certainly not her," I noted.

"Stupid Kirche, telling me to go sleep," Louise muttered, her voice hitching at odd times in what was most likely do to her new found fascination with doing things to her chest that she should probably wait till she was in private to do. "Even after everything we've been through she's still looking down on me!"

A new voice spoke up, causing me to crack one of my eyes open. "I'm not looking down on you, Louise. I'm acknowledging you." Standing in the doorway to the room where Louise was flaunting her newly discovered talents and I was attempting to nap was Kirche. Louise 'eeped' and wheeled to face her long time adversary.

"Look! You see! Stupid Kirche! I fill out one of these outfits just as good as you do now!" Louise declared, stomping one foot and pointing an accusing finger at her long time family nemesis. It wasn't an entirely truthful declaration, but then again I think nine tenths of the female population of the world didn't quite manage to reach Kirche's level of 'filling out'. The two of them were dressed in what could loosely be described as a handful of handkerchiefs and jewelry. The dancing girl outfits, which most likely originated from the same place where the barbarian outfit that Siesta had tried to con me into wearing, consisted of two small pieces of fabric attached to strings for the chest and one long piece of fabric that was attached in some way to a belt chain that provided a long flowing loin cloth like garment that hung down from the front and back of the waist. On the feet were sandals laced high up to the knees, and from their wrists, ankles, and necks dangled a variety of jewelry. Kirche, with her lush figure, filled the garments out to the point where the garment couldn't even begin to fit itself into any definition of 'decent'. Louise on the other hand was discovering that she had at some point in the past managed to transcend the point where she would have looked like a cross dressing boy and managed to definitely point herself out as female. My Master was still tiny of stature, but, as she had triumphantly discovered much after the peeking former members of the Undine Knights had, had began to fill out. She was still only an 'A' cup, and not even on the larger side of the size, but she was no longer as flat as a washboard like once she was.

"Yes, Lady Valliere, you most certainly do," Kirche acknowledged freely, and in a voice that was lacking in malice of any kind, or even in humor as well. Louise blinked in surprise at hearing her long time schoolyard menace speaking to her in such a fashion. "As I said, it is not in derision that causes me to ask you to rest, but rather hope. You two are to be our trump card in this encounter."

Her formal tone was enough to make me open both my eyes completely so that I could study her, and caused Louise to straighten and flush, unsure of what was going on.

"W-w-w-what do you mean?" Louise stuttered, looking unsure. "Do you meant use us as sacrifices if we come across the elf! Stupid Zerbst! If you think to run away and leave us to die, don't take us so lightly!" My tiny but still growing Master proclaimed, pointing at Kirche in accusation as she did so.

"Not at all," Kirche smiled at her softly. It wasn't often I saw the Germanian so serious. Well, admittedly I saw her serious all the time, but it wasn't often I saw her so serious about something that didn't involve bedrooms or other suitable substitutes. "Indeed, I'm counting on you to win. There is little doubt that at some time tonight we will come across the elf. If that happens, than I'm trusting you and your Servant to be all that preserves us from death. Your Servant, the wielder of magic not unlike Ancient Magic itself, and yourself, whom uses the power of legend."

Louise froze at that. "Y-y-you know about the void?" my Master whispered, sounding shocked. Kirche smiled in response.

"I've seen you chant many times now, Louise. Magic unlike anything I have ever seen. It is not so hard for one who has watched you cast to figure out what it is you wield." Standing in front of my Master the fiery redhead lowered herself to both knees, and bowed till she rested her head on the floor. "Please, honorable descendent. I apologize, on behalf of all the slights I have given you in the past, and all those my family has given yours: please lend this selfish one your power in my quest to save my friend."

She was serious. Kirche, the fiery seductress, the free spirited fire mage, was being serious. I sat upright, my eyes focused on the prostrated redhead as she humbled herself in front of my Master. Louise seemed frozen.

"G-g-g-get up Kirche," Louise told her, sounding like she had no idea what was going on. When Kirche looked up, still earnest, Louise flushed and glanced away. "It's not like I could refuse such a request. Tabitha is my friend. And so are y-y-y-you."

It looked like the Valliere admitting that to the Zerbst might have quite possibly been the hardest thing my small Master had ever done. A small smile cracked my lips as Kirche beamed up from where she was still kneeling.

"Oh! You are so cute!" the redhead squealed, launching herself to her feet and dragging my Master into the embrace of her pillowy bosoms. Louise had time for only one startled 'eep' before she found herself in a place I had visited all too often in the past. "I want to steal you away from that nasty repressed little country and bring you home with me to Germania! A woman as fierce as you deserves to be there!" Kirche gushed as she continued to smother my Master with her boobs.

"Help!" Louise managed to get out. "Shirou! Why are you standing there! Help me!"

"Because however twisted it might be, the relationship the two of you share is most definitely friendship," I murmured, and Kirche turned to beam at me. I smiled back, then laid back down to try and get some sleep as Kirche squealed and continued to molest my Master.

*Scene Break*

It was a wonder that the plan had worked as well as it had. A wonder, and a testament to Kirche's ability to wrap men around her finger. When we had shown up at the gates of the guardhouse with a wagon full of wine, the guardsmen had been complaining about how there was a shortage of drink in the city. When the redhead had brazenly announced that the reason the city was dry was because we had already bought it up, and the only way they'd get it back is if they paid a great deal more in order to watch her dance I was almost expecting a riot. Instead, the guards had proven willing to pay it back with extra added on. It was as much a part of her showmanship as it was her physical talents. By the end of it, she had sold them wine twice the going rate, and made them happy to pay it. If we really had been just a traveling group of performers, I had no doubt we would be rich within a year.

The only thing which might have been considered a hitch was the fact that the commander of the troops, a noble which looked as though they took a great deal of advantage of the title to live a life of decadence most of us could only dream about, had refused the wine, calling it low class, and had instead insisted that Kirche give him a private showing later.

The show had gone off nearly flawlessly. The troops, stationed in a hot dusty middle of nowhere with the inglorious task of guarding only two women, one of whom was mad and the other still looked like nothing but a child, had been restless. They had considered this job beneath them, the kind of pointless thing that was given as busy work to people whom had managed to piss off their higher ups. The commander himself had been of the same mindset, and so when the opportunity to allow his troops to blow off steam with over charged wine and beautiful women dancing had arisen, he had given permission to the entire garrison to attend. So while Kirche, Irukukuu, and to a lesser extent Montmorency and my Master gyrated on stage in barely decent outfits, the entire garrison of three hundred men plus nine of the magic using nobles had drank their fill. The sleeping potion was diluted over several casks and would take time to set in so we had to make them drink as much as we could as fast as we could. Fortunately, nothing wets a man's thirst like sight of four lovely ladies in next to nothing after having been stationed in the middle of nowhere for who knows how long.

The first dance alone, with all four of our girls, probably saw to it that enough potion was consumed by all present to knock them out for hours. The biggest problem we experienced was trying to keep them all distracted enough not to notice that the drug was kicking in. After the first dance Kirche had left the stage, presumably to go pleasure the commander, the only man that hadn't been present at the show, with a 'private dance'. In reality she was to pretend to get lost and search as much of the castle as she could for Tabitha and her mother. Unfortunately, with the loss of our biggest, and I mean that both figuratively and literally, attraction we had a dicey moment where the crowd began to get restless. Irukukuu might have had the assets to properly distract the crowd, but when the more ribald members of the crowd had began shouting things like 'take it off,' the dragon had very nearly done so. She simply didn't have any body shame to speak of, not being in her own true form. Unfortunately, that could have led to various complications. When we dragged her off stage, the crowd had gotten restless with only Montmorency and Louise left there.

Fortunately, we stumbled upon a way to keep the masses occupied. Regardless of their body type, both Montmorency and Louise were nobles. More than just magic, nobles were educated in numerous fields. One such, the dances of the courts, proved to be enough to distract the guards. With the typical upper class pressure to distinguish themselves from the masses, nobles had developed several routines which were meant only to be performed away from the eyes of the ignorant masses. When Louise and Montmorency started to perform one, the sight appeared both graceful and strange enough to capture the attention of the near riot guardsmen.

"Well," Guiche muttered, sounding exhausted from all the playing he had done, "that went well enough." Malicorne, who also looked like he was on the edge of his rope, nodded as well. It had fallen to the two of them to call on the common noble belief that all true members of the nobility knew how to play at least one instrument and provide the background music for the dances.

"Don't act like you two have a right to be tired," Montmorency snapped at her boyfriend. The blond was also panting after having been forced to perform onstage with bright lights all around her. Louise had been up there as well, but thanks to the training she had forced on herself was in much better shape than her blond cohort.

"That was fun! Kyuui!" Irukukuu chimed in, sounding like the experience of wiggling her body back and forth for several hours while countless dirty unshaven men shouted lewd things at her had been good fun. Then again, dragon. They weren't exactly known for their understanding of other species. And if any of the men had actually tried something, well, the blue haired girl would have probably changed back and eaten them.

"They appear to be out. Monmon," I snapped, all business now, "how long do you think we have?"

The blond grimaced and pushed a strand of sweat soaked hair from her eyes. "Given how much most of them seemed to have been drinking we probably could kick them for the next six hours and not have to worry." The blond paused, noting one in particular face in the crowd, and put action to words, driving the heel of her foot into the snoring man's sides. "Illiterate pig," she growled at the one she had kicked. Apparently she had been taking note of just which face in the crowd had been saying what, and that poor sod had been particularly noticeable.

"Save it for later," Louise snapped, her posture straight. Even in the dancer girl outfit right now she was in full on game mode. The other's looked surprised to hear her say something so forcefully. "Right now priority is on supporting Kirche and finding Tabitha. Shirou. Where to next?"

I answered back quickly, knowing that time was of the essence. We had managed to neutralize most of the forces in the castle, but that was only the forces we knew about. There was at least one other human, the commander who had disdained the wine in order to focus on Kirche, and possibly more as well, perhaps a secret guard unit held out of sight for emergencies. And that wasn't even counting the distinct possibility that the elf was still here as well. "Kirche was going to focus on the lower chambers. She's had nearly an hour and a half. Since she hasn't returned she most likely hasn't found Tabitha there. We should start high, and work our way down till we meet her."

"Right," Louise nodded, and turned to the other. "We move out now. Malicorne, the stairs to the towers were on the east side of the castle, right?"

"R-r-right!" the chubby boy stammered, staring at my Master with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

Don't think about Eleanor. Don't think about Eleanor. Don't think about what the two of them apparently had in common….

"We begin there, and move in a group. If we come across resistance, the rest of us will move ahead and leave Shirou to handle it. Servant," Louise turned to address me directly, and steel was in every part of her body. "There is no one in this castle we need except for Tabitha and her mother."

"Understood, Master," I answered back, my tone expressionless. The time for tact had ended. My Master had just given me the carte blanche to meet anyone we encountered with lethal force.

As a group, we raced across the courtyard of Alhambra Castle, me darting ahead of the others, circling wide and scouting each corner before moving on to the next, often before the others had even a chance to catch up. I kept my hand on Derflinger at all times, using the power of Gandalfr to boost my movements. It had been many months since Saxe-Gotha, and with my own rigorous training schedule, most often against various magic users of this world, I was now noticing the increase in my ability. I wasn't reinforcing, not yet anyway, but I could detect an increase in my speed from the last time I had been in a situation as tense as this.

Alhambra was a medieval style castle, and the layout of it was pretty simple. There were three layers to it, the inner courtyard bounded by a wall, the middle plaza also bounded by a wall, and the outer area, bounded by the final wall. It was a military outpost, and each section was designed to be a fall back point for if the outer layer beyond it was breached by siege. Originally the design was meant for each layer to be completely defensible, but the castle had already fallen once before. There were great rents throughout each of the dividing walls, rents which hadn't been bothered to be repaired when the castle was reoccupied. Since our group was meant to start at the top and work our way down, it took us barely a handful of minutes to make it from the outer area, where our performance had been staged, to the inner plaza, half way to the center of the castle. In the very center of the three layered city was the tower like manor where the lord of the castle would have dwelt. Considering the fact that Tabitha was in fact royalty, it seemed likely to me that as a royal prisoner her cell had most likely been gilded. It was there, in the center most region, that I was banking on finding the imprisoned princess.

I paused, waiting at the gates that would lead to the center courtyard, as the rest of the group hurried to catch up. I must have been quite a sight, in my black pants and boots and bereft of my cloak, which had been surrendered when we had been arrested by Henrietta, but still wearing the tattered arm sleeves that Louise had knit so long ago.

"Are you well?" I asked the others as they stumbled to my position, all of them panting.

"We've been dancing and playing for hours while you just sat in the corner and looked ominous!" Montmorency panted, looking like a wilted flower. "What do you think?" she demanded, sounding annoyed at the injustice of it all.

"Don't worry," I told her dryly. "If anything happens from here on out I'm sure I'm the one who'll be doing the heavy lifting."

"I hate this," Louise muttered. "It's been going too well. Things never go this well. If it keeps up we'll be able to just grab Tabitha and get out of here." I winced at that. If ever I needed proof that Louise had been influenced by me, that was enough right there. This was a world where stories ended up with happy endings, and legends were all filled with morals. It took a world like my own, and experiences like my own, to engender that kind of cynicism in these parts.

"But Louise," Guiche panted, looking like he as well as Louise was marginally less winded than the rest of the group, "Isn't it a good thing when things go well?"

"In stories, yes," my Master snapped back, looking agitated. "But in real life…."

She was interrupted when the tower in front of us erupted in a geyser of flame, the sound of old brickwork being shattered and erupting in an inferno of flame and broken stone echoing through the air. Every head in the group snapped up to witness as the wall which led to the inner sanctum of the castle exploded in a pillar of crimson light. I closed one eye as I studied it to preserve my night vision, but then the closed lid launched up as I froze, staring in horror.

Even as the others made their exclamations of surprise or shock, I watched, tracing the shadow caught in the middle of the flame as it followed an arc through the air, my body frozen in unnamable dread.

As the others ducked and attempted to cover themselves from the raining masonry, I could only whisper in shock. "Kirche."

Her body struck the ground with a wet thump, rolling across the stones of the courtyard as the clatter of rubble fell around her. I didn't notice the others, striding forward to stand above the fallen body, feeling as though I was crawling through molasses as I did so. They were saying things, shouting, but even the voice of my Master wasn't enough to penetrate the hot buzzing noise which had erupted in my skull. Kirche. The fiery redheaded Germanian. The unashamed sex bomb. Even before Siesta had truly befriended me, Kirche had been there, offering her hand in welcome after her familiar had adopted me. More than anyone else in this world, she had always been open to me. It had taken me showing my power before Louise had accepted me. It had taken nearly killing him before Guiche had. It had taken me proving myself before Siesta had. Kirche had never once doubted me, looked down on me, flinched away from me. And now, she was laying broken on the courtyard in front of me, her body twisted with burns, her long hair scorched away, her flesh blackened from fire.

Kirche.

There were noises there, in the background. One of them sounded familiar. I think it was Guiche. It sounded vaguely like, 'Sir Emiya, you're scaring me.' There might have been another. It might have been Montmorency. It sounded vaguely like, 'She's badly hurt!' There might have been another. It might have been Irukukuu. It sounded vaguely like, 'I'll help.'

They were irrelevant.

I could feel a snarl forming on my lips. I could hear my breath coming in short pants. I could feel my body shaking.

I could feel rage.

A voice came, and I recognized it only because it was the voice of the one who had my attention. It was Kirche, and it sounded pained, as though every breath was an agony to take. It said, "Elf…Be careful."

Elf.

So that is what I was about to kill.

In front of me, there was an opening. A set of stairs. They led to where the thing I was about to kill was. I walked to them.

I was half way up them when I noticed that there was someone beside me. Even in my state of mind, I recognized them.

"Master," I said.

"Servant," came her voice. That was enough. Kirche had been Louise's nemesis for most of her school years. But with time, and experience, whatever hate my Master might have felt for the redhead had changed. It was a strange thing, how love and hate could get intertwined. To love something so much you could not be near it. To hate it so much you could not be without it. I don't know where my Master stood in that regards, but it didn't change the fact that today she had admitted her friendship for the one that lay broken behind us. And to have that newly acknowledged connection so casually stamped upon, so easily shattered…

My Master walked beside me. And both Master and Servant wanted blood.

The stairway we traveled was low, and opened up into a courtyard filled with ornate columns. I understood, intellectually, that the courtyard was designed to be a last ditch hold out against invading forces. The stairs had curved clockwise as we had taken them. This was so defenders, who were mostly right handed, would be able to fight freely while the aggressors, also right handed, would be impeded by the natural slope of the stairs. The stairs themselves would have been the optimal time for anyone to impede us. However, whoever it was that suddenly launched fireballs at the two of us obviously wasn't aware of the true nature of castle stairways. They waited till we were framed in the doorway before launching their attacks.

With the runes of Gandalfr glowing so brightly beneath my sleeves that the light was enough to cast a ghastly illumination into the otherwise darkened room I batted the feeble attack away with the swiftly drawn Derflinger. The blade drank deeply, the magic behind the fireballs feeding it. With swiftness that surpassed anything I have shown so far, the humming magic of the runes strengthening me to a level I had not yet dreamed of achieving, I crossed the distance between me and the stone column that hid the aggressor. The pale light of the moon reflected of my blade as I cut through the column leaving a bar of silver afterimages in my wake as I finished my attack.

Two thumps echoed: one from the body of the attacker, the other from the head.

I spared the head a glance, only long enough for me to determine the length of its ears. They were normal shaped. So this was not the elf which I was seeking.

"So you two are the friends of the girl just now?" a clear voice echoed through the columned courtyard.

My eyes traced upwards, and found the speaker. It was male, and quite frankly beautiful to behold. Its features were chiseled, yet soft. It had a beauty to it, yet was distinctly masculine at the same time. It wore a wide brimmed hat, and its soft looking blond mane flowed down across its back in a wave of gold. It wore a soft looking coat of a light amber color that flowed around its body.

And it had long ears.

So this was what I came here to kill.

"An elf, partner," the sword in my hand spoke to me. I sheathed it. It wouldn't be enough for what was to come.

"I am Bidashal," the figure in front of me spoke as it descended the stairs that would lead deeper into the tower. "Let me inform all of you now: I don't like battles. If you leave now, then I shall not pursue."

"Be silent," I told it, holding my right arm in front of me and tracing. The Muramasa blade in my hand, a blade which had been created for no other purpose but to end life, a blade which desired to do so above all else, which hungered for blood and death and pain, shrieked in pain. For the first time in its existence it tasted a blood thirst which surpassed its own, and it felt what all those poor mortals whom had been overwhelmed by its sentience in the past felt: fear. "The dead have no use for words."

The speed with which I closed on the elf in front of me tore at my clothing, causing them to crack as they snapped to and fro in the wind left by the wake of my passage. The Muramasa blade, eager to please the one whose bloodlust surpassed even its own, screamed as it cut through the air parting stray pillars as it passed through them like paper when I swung it. The elf in front of me did not move, only sighed as it closed its eyes and waited.

Neither of us was surprised when the blood drinking sword in my hand bounced away from the figure in front of me without closing within a foot of it.

"It is pointless, barbarian swordsman," the elf managed to get out before I drew Derflinger on my back and swung it as well. I had been expecting the reaction. Irukukuu had described the battle between Tabitha and the elf, Bidashal, many days ago. The dragon had spoken of how every attack that had been launched had reflected back on the caster. Swinging Derflinger down, I felt resistance at the same point where the Muramasa blade had been stopped. This time, instead of allowing the sword to be rebuffed I placed my left hand on the back the magic drinking sword and forced it down. It ground against the invisible wall that stopped it, not being able to penetrate yet the force behind it not letting it be flung away as my last blade had been.

"It's no use, partner," Derflinger ground out, the quillion between my hand and the blade itself shaking. "It's like I thought. It's Counter!"

"A wise sword indeed, to know this," Bidashal spoke, not seeming surprised by the fact that my sword had just spoken. "This is indeed the Counter magic."

If they were expecting this revelation to be in anyway meaningful to me, then they were both in for a disappointment. I set my feet and pushed, trying to force Derflinger through the invisible resistance through sheer power. I had vaguely hoped that the magic drinking blade would be able to cancel the spell if I kept it in contact long enough, but it seemed this hope was futile; if this was indeed nature magic then it seemed to be either too different or too powerful for the ancient blade to consume. The keen edge of the sentient sword dragged across the invisible barrier, always staying the same distance away from any flesh as it did so. Finally allowing myself to be rebuffed, I took one step back, and sheathed Derflinger in one move.

The elf raised one cool eyebrow at me, its expression disinterested. It hadn't bothered to move through either of my attacks. "So now you know, barbarian. There is no way for you to advance. Leave, and I shall…"

"I am the bone of my sword," I interrupted it, raising one hand above my head. "Steel is my body, and fire is my blood."

Trace on.

The blade that formed in my hand was sleek, double edged, and long. Its hilt was of fine black ebony and gilded with gold. It shone silver in the poorly lit courtyard, far too bright to simply be reflecting the poor illumination and casting strange shadows against the pillars which were around me.

"Shatter this shield, Durandal," I ordered it, and brought it down hard on the elf.

Durandal, the favored sword of Sir Roland, granted to him by King Charlemagne whom had been granted it in turn by an angel. Once traced, this blade no longer required my od to use. With the ability to grant three miracles, and the promise of never losing its sharpness, regardless of the wielders state, I used one such miracle as I struck at my foe in front of me.

For the briefest of seconds, the sword was stopped as well, the elf beginning to look bored at the repetition of my attack. And then light blossomed around where Durandal was halted, glistening through the air like the sun being reflected from some strange curved surface. Bidashal's eyes shot open in shock, and a second later the blade shattered the defensive magic that it had been so proud of with the noise like thunder, the Counter spell shattering away in pieces as though it was nothing more than glass.

Durandal completed its arc, and buried itself into the ground, splitting the rock there with another enormous cracking sound.

I had missed.

No matter that I had managed to overcome one of the elf's tricks. It didn't change the fact that this creature measured its life in centuries. Nothing lasts that long in a dangerous world and doesn't learn to be more than a little dangerous itself. The moment it had saw its defenses start to fail, it hadn't wasted a moment gawking in surprise, it had instead displayed its own speed, leaping backward in a series of short jumps till it was across the room from me.

"By the dark children of Shaitan," it breathed, its eyes locked on the holy sword in my hand. "What manner of treachery is this?"

That was all it got out before it discovered that I too wasn't one for standing idly by. With od pumping through my body and sinking into every muscle therein, and the glow of the Gandalfr runes still so bright that my sleeves could not conceal it, I closed.

When next I struck, the elf was prepared, and now no longer willing to stand idly by and let me exhaust myself with my attacks. When Durandal swung at it again, this time it shot its hand out to intercept. Once more the flare of Counter emerged, and then shattered, but despite being penetrated the spell slowed my blade enough for the elf to slip away from the edge of my blade. Again and again, I struck, and again and again the elf dodged while using one hand to buy it precious time to evade. It was astounding, watching the flesh and blood creature manage to keep up with my inhuman speed. This was what it meant to fight an elf, to cross blades with the weight of the experience that their inhumanly long lives granted them.

Even as it continued to fend me off using one hand, it raised the other above its head. Its eyes narrowed in concentration of both defending itself and apparently preparing whatever spell it was about to cast it chanted, "Spirits of the rocks of this place, hear me! Cast thy form into daggers, and pierce this foe before me!"

"Partner!" Derflinger snapped. "It's contracted the spirits of this place! Watch out!"

Heeding the swords warning I was prepared when the ground itself surrounding us began to shatter and peel like the skin of an orange being pulled off. Long strips of hard rock tore themselves from the ground, and then melted as though clay and reformed themselves into long sharp shards. When they flew at me, I was prepared.

Drawing Derflinger once more I began a desperate whirlwind dance of steel. I couldn't let up my assault, because to do so would allow the elf time to cast even stronger magic. With it being forced to split its concentration between me and the spell, I was banking on the fact that this was at best a half assed effort to get me to separate long enough for Bidashal to catch his breath. Instead I continued striking at it with Durandal while calling on all my experience to defend myself from the daggers of stone that launched themselves at me from behind with Derflinger. Moving quickly, I also circled the elf, putting it between me and the worst of the attack. I was banking on the stones not being able to maneuver in the air well enough to circle around the caster and hit me anyway.

It was hard, and it caused sweat to pour down my face from both the exertion and the concentration, but I weathered the attack. The blades that found the elf between me and them were rebuffed by the elf's own Counter magic, and somehow I managed to maintain my brutal attempt to bludgeon the thing in front of me to death with my holy sword while keeping the worst of the attacks from finding my flesh. Some of them I managed to block while others I managed to dodge, twisting my body in ways I knew I'd feel the next day. Still, some of them managed to cut me, sawing their way through my flesh in a collection of small wounds which would quickly add up if I wasn't careful.

Still, this wasn't going to be enough. I was pressing the elf, and I could make out sweat beading on its forehead just as surely as it was forming on mine, but it didn't change the fact that the elf had already found a counter to my counter for its Counter. It would have been inspiring to watch, a battle every bit as fast and glorious as what might have occurred between Servants in the Holy Grail War. I could easily imagine watching Bidashal exchange blows with Rider, or Saber, or even Lancer…

I see. Yes, that would work. But executing it….

"Shirou! Above!" came the voice of my Master, whom I had almost forgotten had come along as well. Heeding the warning in her tone I launched myself backwards, desperately seeking distance to escape whatever attack it was that had put the panic in her voice.

Above me, I saw it. The blades of stone, the ones I had dodged, hadn't simply fallen idle after their attack. Even as I watched the last few of them lifted in the air, breaking up and then compressing as they joined the enormous mass that had been forming in the air out of my line of sight. It was like looking at the giant stone fist of Fouquet's golem that I had faced so long ago, though the titanic limb that was forming above me dwarfed even those nearly three times over. My mind raced. What did I have that could stop that? Sure, Rho Aias would stop it, but at the cost of rendering me immobile. Against a foe like this, that would be about the same as just taking the time to paint a bulls eye on my forehead, or maybe drawing a dotted long across my neck and writing the instructions 'cut here'. I needed to cut through and close again so I could maintain the offensive…

Once more my Master's voice penetrated the air. "Shirou!" We had been in many battles, fought and trained together, ate, drank, and even slept together. I could read what her voice told me with no more words being needed. My Master had a plan.

I set my eyes on Bidashal, the elf staring at me across the courtyard with narrowed eyes, and trusted in Louise to protect me from the attack above.

"I see now there will be no reasoning with you," the elf proclaimed, sounding pompous as it did so. "Since you will not depart, then it shall be my duty to end you. Farewell, barbarian swordsmen."

As the massive stone fist began to descend, my Master cried out a third time. "Disintegrate!"

It was my Master's first true void spell, and not just one she had learned from the Founder's Prayer book. It had taken her months, nearly a year since the first time she had used the void, but finally she had managed to identify her own element, to master it enough for her to create her own spells. Disintegrate was at best a line class spell, lacking much of the subtlety of what mages of other elements might be able to cast with the same amount of power, but it was effective. Combining the wave like nullification of the Dispell spell with the ability to affect the physical of the Explosion spell, it was her first true accomplishment, and a mark of just how powerful my Master was.

True to its name, a distorting wave met the fist, and the fist ceased to be. Crumbling away, like watching a wave erode a cliff side in fast forward, the enormous stone above me dissolved into boulders, and then the boulders dissolved into pebbles, and then the pebbles dissolved into sand, and the sand itself faded away.

"The power of Shaiton! Polluter of the world!" the elf gasped, and for the first time in the fight it sounded afraid. Even as it swung its eyes to try and find my Master, it found me in them instead. I had dismissed Durandal and sheathed Derflinger. Despite being apparently weaponless, the runes on my left hand still illuminated the room around us. Bidashal's eyes widened, and some experience in its life warned it of what was to come:

I was about to kill it.

Desperately, even as I leaned forward and began my charge, the elf thrust both hands at me. The wall behind it shattered and launched itself, the elf not even taking the time to attempt to sharpen the projectiles this time. In the same way as Tabitha had when we fought, it focused the stream of raining death at me, the column that leapt to crush me much faster and more focused then even the impressive blue haired girl had managed.

This time, unlike against the ice mage, I didn't bother drawing a weapon to try and parry the attacks. I just put my left arm in front of me and across my body, and charged in, holding my right hand behind me as I prepared.

For several long moments a noise like hail on a tin roof was all that could be heard in the shattered courtyard. Finally, the elf's managed a strangled question, its voice laced with disgust and horror. "What are you?"

I was crouched in front of it, my body low and my feet spread. Behind me my right hand held the weapon I had chosen, but the elf's eyes were locked on my right arm.

Erupting from every inch of it, from the knuckles of my fist to my elbow, were swords. They pierced out of my flesh as though they had grown there, extending and interlocking like some kind of unholy tangle of barbwire. In the sparse illumination of the courtyard they glowed silver, a luminance which was marred with dark splatters of my own blood as it dripped down them, the spilled life fluid black in the light.

"My body is made of swords," I whispered, and then flooded the weapon still held behind me with od. Murder filled the air; dark, potent, and heavy. The crimson shaft knew what would come next, and hungered for it. I spoke the last words of the battle.

"Gae Bolg."

Gae Bolg, the spear of impaling barbed death, wielded by Cu Cuhlainn as the Lancer during the Holy Grail War. It is an evil weapon, cursed, and once called upon in battle it always found the heart of its target. Indeed, it reverses time itself to do so. The moment I had spoken its name, Bidashal was already pierced. When I thrust the lance, it was simply a matter of me proving it to the rest of the world. It was an unblockable and undodgeable attack. There is no defense against it. Even Counter magic, which had managed to slow Durandal enough so that the elf could dodge, was useless.

Still, Bidashal tried. I saw the air around it thicken in some way, possibly an unused defense ability, and the elf leaped backwards, trying to move far enough away that the lance wouldn't reach him.

It was a noble effort, but it failed. Mid-leap, the red spear in my hand found him, and drove itself through his chest and into his heart. He clutched at it desperately, his hands grasping the shaft weakly as he tried to pull it out of himself, still hanging in the air where I held him.

Wordlessly, I shifted my grip, and slammed the elf into the ground, forcing the lance to penetrate all the way through him and pin him to the rock beneath like a butterfly in a display case. The rocks screeched as they were shattered by the blow, and Bidashal opened his mouth in a strangled gasp, blood from his lungs which had been cut by my thrust erupting from his lips, staining his face.

And then he died.

For a moment, I stood above his corpse, looking at it without expression. I hated that weapon. It was powerful, and useful. But it was evil beyond measure. I had thought I understood that the first time I ever encountered it, when it had been my heart that it had found. But to actually wield it in battle, to feel its malice and hold its hate in my own hands…

I turned, and walked away, back to my Master. She stood at the edge of the courtyard where she had waited and watched. She was panting, most likely from the effort of having cast her spell. Disintegrate was the hardest spell she had, not having been properly polished or refined as the other spells in the Prayer Book most likely had. And to do so without any apparent chanting was the same as her having cast just raw magic at the attack. She would be exhausted tonight.

She also wasn't alone anymore. Apparently at some point the rest of the group had caught up. Guiche had Kirche on his back, her arms thrown over his shoulders and her legs grasped around his waist. The redhead still looked like she needed a haircut to trim away the singed spots, but her skin no longer was blackened and burnt. Beside her, Montmorency hovered. I decided then and there that I would never speak ill of the blond water mage again. It was most likely her skills with healing that had saved the Germanian. Malicorne was there as well, as was Irukukuu. The dragon girl was naked again. She must have transformed back into a dragon at some point and then returned to her human guise, causing her clothes to get lost in the switch.

My gaze focused on Kirche, and she managed to crack one eye open at me. "Darling…"she managed to get out, and then her eyes closed again. She was weak and tired, but she'd recover.

The rest of the group except for Louise and Irukukuu flinched at my approach. "An elf," Malicorne whimpered, looking at the corpse across the room. "He killed an elf."

"Sir Emiya," Guiche whispered his eyes wide and locked on one part of my body. "Your arm."

I looked down and realized what he was staring at. I was still sprouting blades from it, and now that I was paying attention I could make out a steady 'drip drip drip' noise as my blood still leaked out of the great slashes in my flash that they emerged from. Wordlessly I dismissed them. Without the steel to block the wounds my blood began to pour out faster now.

"Here," Montmorency whispered, swallowing hard and stepping up. She put her shaking wand against my arm and I felt the cool of water magic begin to close the tears in my flesh. I nodded at her without speaking.

"Well then," Louise finally managed to get her panting under control and stood up straight. "Let's go collect Tabitha then, shall we?"

*Scene Break*

In the room on the top floor of the tallest tower, we managed to find her. She was dressed in white night gown with a book in her lap as she sat beside a bed which held a woman that looked so much like her that she had to be the ice mage's mother. Tabitha looked small, and innocent, and I realized with a start that she just seemed out of place without her staff. I suppressed a twinge of guilt at that. It had been me that had taken that piece of her image away.

"Big sister!" Irukukuu cried out happily, throwing her naked body across the room so she could hug her Master. Tabitha looked confused, and hesitantly put her hand on the head of her familiar.

"Why? Why are you here?" she whispered, her eyes crossing the room to lock with mine.

"To save you," I answered her.

The blue haired girl was silent, and tears began to trail their way down her cheeks and onto the book in her lap. She closed her eyes, her fingers clenching the cover of the tome. Finally, her voice choked with sobs, she whispered, "thank you," before succumbing to the tears of relief.

*Scene Break*

We were making our exit from the castle, preparing for the long night and days ahead of us of fleeing towards the Germanian border when I paused at the exit. Louise, who had succumbed to the exhaustion her spellwork had put her in and was being carried in my arms, mumbled slightly, shifting in discomfort. Guiche, who had been the last one out before me noticed and paused.

"Sir Emiya, we need to hurry," he said, his voice soft and nervous.

"Yes. Tomorrow once they discover their elf dead and their princess gone they'll start to deploy troops, and try to track us," I murmured.

"Hence why we need to hurry, Sir Emiya," the nervous noble pointed out, fidgeting away and glancing between the castle we just left and towards the caravan the others were already loading and preparing.

"Troops, like the ones sleeping helplessly in the castle behind us," I pointed out, and Guiche froze, turning slowly to look at me. I continued. "Do you know, in my home world, we have two kinds of heroes, Guiche?" I spoke softly, slowly, no real expression on my face. "The first kinds are the ones you know doubt now about, the ones who perform great acts of nobility, and perform their goals while remaining above reproach, the kind who inspires others for generations to come with their purity." I glanced back towards the castle as I carried on my explanation. "The other kinds of heroes are called the anti-heroes. They're ones who also accomplish goals, and may even save thousands with their actions, but in the end the actions themselves are bloodstained and most often dishonest or just plain unforgiveable."

Guiche was silent, following my gaze towards where the slumbering forces still lay. Tomorrow those men would be hunting us, and if they caught us they'd bring the full might of their country down on us. The thought that if they caught us then Tabitha would be back in their hands, as well as my Master, and Montmorency as well, fluttered through the young noble's mind. Finally, the blond spoke. "Give me Louise. I'll watch after her till you catch up. I'll tell the others you're covering our tracks."

I handed my sleeping Master over to the blond swordsman. "Hurry up. Don't worry about me; I'll catch up before dawn."

It didn't seem right to draw Derflinger for this. The sentient sword deserved to be used in battle, not for whatever I was about to do was called. Instead I traced Kanshou and Bakuya. Bakuya gleamed like ivory in the moon light, and Kanshou was just one more shadow in the night as I walked back through the gates.

Time for the legend of the King of Swords to become something to scare another kingdom.

*Scene Break*

That night Louise fell asleep with a warm feeling in her chest. She knew it was a little shallow for her to feel that way, but her pride in the strength of her Servant was simply so great that she simply couldn't help but once more feel overwhelming joy at the luck she had when she had summoned him so long ago.

It wasn't just Shirou's physical strength, though after this night she would forever hold it in the highest regards. Shirou had killed an elf, nearly completely unaided. Yes, she had lent her aid to the battle, but there had been no doubt in her mind that if she hadn't he would have been able to manage anyway. Even Louise's mother, the legendary Karin the 'Heavy Wind', had never managed to kill an elf.

It was also the strength of Shirou's character. She knew that the reason he had been able to fight as hard as he did wasn't from some desire to prove himself, or to measure his own strength. The reason he had done so was because the elf had hurt Kirche. When he had been in that courtyard, his blows so fast that he resembled nothing more than a silver whirlwind given direction, he had been there for the redheads sake. He had been avenging her, fighting for the sake of her life and for the lives of the rest of the group.

She had known that there was still fire left in him, had searched for it, had kindled it, and just as she always thought it would be it had been Kirche that had ignited it completely.

Honestly, and this still surprised Louise to her very core, if he hadn't done it then she would have herself. The very thought of someone hurting Kirche, her childhood tormentor, eternal thorn in her side, and the first person besides Henrietta to figure out her secret and yet guard it for her despite their childhood animosity had lit a fire in her that had surprised the pink haired girl with its intensity. She didn't blame Shirou for losing it like he did. If he hadn't, then there was a very good chance that there might have been an Explosion spell cast that would have dwarfed even the one she had cast at Tarbes.

She had laid with her eyes clothes, pretending sleep as Shirou and Guiche exchanged words. She knew that he was off doing something right now, something that he most likely would not be proud about later. She also knew that whatever it was he was doing might be the thing which kept them safe long enough to escape. Tomorrow, she would wait till they were alone and call him out on it. Depending on what it was she would either praise him or scold him for it.

But that was tomorrow. Right now, they had battled the evil monster, saved the princess, escaped the city, and were rolling fast towards freedom.

So Louise allowed herself to sleep, curled against recovering Kirche rather than her Servant, and dreamed about swords and battles.

And definitely not about kinky threesomes. Stupid Kirche, being all grabby in her sleep.