Disclaimer: The works of Type-Moon and Jō Taketsuki are their own despite my most fervent wishes. This is a fan work and if anyone does pay me for it the only thing it will accomplish is to get me into trouble. This is being done purely for fun, constructive criticism is welcome, and flames will be ignored. Please be gentle though, this is the first fanfic I've put on the net.
Well, here I am again. Just to be clear I've decided to work on this fic exclusively for the rest of the year. Why Me? has not been abandoned, I just felt like making some real headway on my main work.
On another note Campione! has finally revealed the identity of the King of the End. I confess to having been a tad disappointed by their choice of true identity, but I have only given it a quick skim read. Once the whole thing is out I'll read it in more detail and I imagine it will make more sense then.
A number of my readers commented that my last chapter was a little thin on the ground in regards to Shirou himself. After going over it I have to agree that my last work was a bit on the thin side as far as the main character went, but I suppose the main thrust of the chapter was to show how the world in general was reacting to the events of the last plotline. This chapter will hopefully give my main character a chance to grab a bit more screen time.
SPOILERS.
Just so everyone is quite clear, I have absolutely NO idea as to how the Japanese high school year is set up in regards to holidays and special events. I'm pretty sure that the whole 'school fair' business is held during summer, or at least that's how it's always depicted in the manga and anime I've seen. How close that is to the half term holiday, or even if they have it at all, is something I'm not too clear on. Still it fits into my story, so if I can mess around with the origins of gods in order for it to fit into my writing I guess I can do the same for the high school year schedule.
By the same token I'm largely ignorant of the geographical nature of islands about Japan. What I do know is that in half the films and anime I watch the main characters end up on some sort of island. So if popular media is to be believed the ocean about Japan is lousy with them. The way I figured it was that some of the smaller ones, those large enough to have some sort of small ecosystem but not large enough or too distant to warrant serious development, would be rented out as camping sites or the like for those with the wealth and resources to reach them.
I imagine there will be those that will say that due to Shirou's distorted nature he wouldn't be as vulnerable to mental or emotional wounds as I'm depicting here. In fact I agree with you, please bear in mind that most of these observations are coming from those about Shirou, those that aren't aware of his mental state; as a result they think he's somewhat more fragile than he actually is.
The Omake I cooked up for this chapter was the result of several reviewers commenting on how they wanted Shirou to have a more 'official' harem. It doesn't fit into my main story so well, but after reading the works of several other writers I found myself wondering what would happen if poor Shirou found himself saddled with an Authority specifically designed to get him a harem. As a result this Omake came into being.
If all truth be told this version of Shirou is actually more powerful than my 'canon' one. This Shirou has access to almost unlimited servants, dozens of additional Authorities and divine servants that are pretty much of Servant level of ability, though with Authorities instead of Noble Phantasms. All of whom are fanatically loyal to him and whose numbers are actually not that hard to add to at all. If he were to meet Godou's harem all he'd need to do in order to gain his own clones of them would be to lend them aid in battle or something as simple as helping them find their way around town. Once that was done their 'record' would be stored in his Authority and they'd be available to aid him. However, for obvious reasons, Shirou is not exactly eager to exploit the full power of The Harem.
Poor guy.
On a last note I've found myself having a bit of trouble with the next chapter. I have a fair idea of where I want it to go, but I'm drawing a blank in regards to the scenes leading up to that point. As such I'm taking suggestion. If you have any idea for fun on the beach or adventures in the island jungle feel free to put them in a review or send them to me in a PM. My only stipulation is that it can't be something that would take longer than a day to play out. I can't promise to use ever suggestion given of course, but any that are sent will be gratefully received.
The same goes for the Christmas special I'm trying to get ready. If you have any ideas please feel free to send them to me.
On a final note I would once again like to offer my sincerest thanks to my Beta for all his hard work and his excellent advise.
Chapter Twenty Five: Fun in the Sun
"Right, enough of this Shirou! You're coming with me!"
The eighth Campione looked up to see his adopted sister standing in the doorway to his study, her fists on her hips and what could be called by some her 'war face' on her features.
In truth the expression she wore was not the one she wore when she really was getting serious. That one was much more intimidating and featured in some of his nightmares, normally the ones that involved him being chased by a Berserker that had somehow contracted vampirism and developed a specific taste for the blood of adopted Emiyas. Illya was normally featured as riding on her vampiric Servant's shoulder and cackling manically.
There were times that Shirou was genuinely worried by what must be swimming around in the depths of his subconscious.
"Huh?"
Alright, perhaps that wasn't the most articulate response he could have used, but he'd just been trying to puzzle his way through a scroll that was using unnecessarily flowery language to describe the effects of a spell as well as the reagent components used to power it. His gift of languages might allow him to perfectly comprehend ancient Cretean, but that didn't do a thing to make the chosen words more understandable. It had taken him the better part of an afternoon to work out 'glass blessed by the searing strike of the Cyclops's gift to the eldest' meant a fulgurite, a crystal formed by lightning hitting sand or soil.
The sudden change from trying to get his head around the over elaborate descriptions to listening to Illya had been a bit on the jarring side and it was taking him a moment to shift mental gears.
"See? That, right there! That's why you have to get out of here. You've spent every spare minute you've had for the last few weeks either in here researching or in the dojo training. Do you even know what day it is?"
"Uhhh, Sunday?"
That was right, wasn't it? Yesterday had been Saturday hadn't it?
"Yes, it's Sunday. The Sunday that starts the half term holiday!"
Really? But wasn't that still a few weeks off? Well . . . now that he thought about it the Emiya heir realized that it probably was about time for it. Time really had managed to get away from him.
"Anyway, come on, we're going!"
Not brooking any sort of protest his white haired sister marched around the desk, seized him by his right wrist and dragged him away from his workplace. Alright, it would have been easy for him to resist her, but Shirou was well aware that if he did so the he'd just be inviting more trouble later. For a moment a brief flare of anger bubbled up within him, irritation that she'd treat him this way and dare to disturb his research. But it was a small thing that was quickly buried and snuffed out.
Maybe she was right. He had been spending a lot of time here lately, working hard to try and find a way back home. The hours and days had bled into each other until he completely lost track and still he wasn't able to make anything like the breakthrough he was hunting for. The reports, texts and scrolls that he'd pored over didn't seem to have the information he wanted, no matter how he looked.
The concept of the planes of existence was a well understood one, possibly even more so than it had been in his own dimension. With the semi-regular appearance of Heretic Gods the people of this world had possessed ample examples of extra-planier beings and equal motivation to learn about them. The realm of Legends had been researched as much as was possible for mortals to achieve, and the Netherworld, one of the closest 'other planes' had been explored and studied by the more powerful mages that had been able to access it. Granted that exploration had been relatively brief and tentative given that even powerful mortals could only survive there for so long unless they had some sort of divine protection or favour, but even so it had been the work of several lifetimes.
And none of it was of any great use to him.
Mortal mages had done lots of research on other planes. They had performed detailed investigations into the natures of the Netherworld and the realm of Legends the gods resided in. They had even studied the way that the power of a god could combine with the nature of these other planes to allow those of great power to travel up and down the currents of time. But despite all these different avenues of research the magic users of the world he found himself in had never given much thought to the existence of entirely separate worlds and dimensions, consequently he wasn't finding any prior spells or enchantments that would be of any use to him.
Oh, there were hints and signs that both mages and deities had known of the possibility that other worlds existed, but that was it, nothing but vague notes and broad hints. Shirou had spent the last few weeks relentlessly chasing these minor speculations in the hope that they might yield something he could use, but so far there'd been little success.
Was it really any surprise that he was in a less than pleasant mood? No, not really. But that didn't excuse the sudden surge of dark emotions, regardless of how minor they might have been.
Maybe Illya was right; he should get out a bit. A change of pace might be enough to get him out of the rut he found himself in. It didn't have to be anything too elaborate, just a day out with his sister to see-
His train of thought was cut off by a distinct click from behind him. Realizing that he'd gotten lost in his thoughts the King of Steel turned round to see that his white haired sister had just locked to the door to his study and was now dropping the key into the small purse she always carried about with her.
"Errrrr . . . Illya just what are you doing?"
"Well, we can't have you going in there while we're out, can we? I know you don't have anything too sensitive lying around, but I thought we'd best be sure."
Alarm bells began to ring in the Emiya heir's mind, not big ones, but definitely persistent. The reason that Illya had given for locking his study up was paper thin at best. After all any thief that managed to get that far into the manor, past all the traps and bounded fields they'd set up, wasn't going to be deterred by something as simple as a locked door.
All this was running through Shirou's head as he followed his adopted sister, but he still wasn't sure how to voice his queries about it. Of course the fact that he was just realizing how tired and fuzzy his mind was feeling didn't exactly help. He was still trying to think of a way to ask when Illya suddenly came to a stop next to one of the doors in the hallway.
"Ah, Asuka got it ready," there was a distinct note of satisfaction to her words as she gestured to Shirou, "Here, can you give me a hand moving it Onii-chan?"
For a moment her adopted 'older' brother just looked at her and the object she indicated with a sort of blank incomprehension. Then Shirou shook his head, as though trying tot get the thoughts in his head to rattle enough to connect to each other again. Damn, he really was more tired than he'd realized, maybe that was the real reason he'd been having so much trouble with his research. If his brain cells were really this fried then it was hardly a wonder that he'd be missing important clues and hints. This day off was looking more and more like a good idea.
Reaching out he grabbed the indicated object, then blinked in surprise as he realized what it was. Testing the weight he found it to be surprisingly heavy, a fact that made him turn to his still smiling sister and voice his thoughts.
"Illya, why do you need such a big suitcase and why is it so full?"
"It's heavy because I stuffed it with all the things I'll be needing to enjoy the next week. You know, clothes, toiletries, some manga, those anime I haven't had time to watch, a portable DVD player . . . the essentials." Her eyes flicked from the suitcase and the back to him. "Don't worry; we've got yours ready too."
"Huh?"
There it was again, he really needed some sleep if that was the best that he could keep coming up with.
"Come on Shirou, your case has already been loaded up. We have to leave now if we want everything to go on time."
"Already loaded up? Illya what are you talking about?" His sluggish mind finally having picked up enough speed to make a coherent query Shirou asked the question that had been running around in his mind.
"Your holiday of course, now come on."
Holiday? Had he planned a holiday? Shaking his head in another attempt to wring some sort of co-operation from his exhausted recollection the eighth Campione found himself being dragged along by his smaller sister. The large case was being carried without much effort, but that didn't seem to change anything as the girl he'd once thought of as a snow fairy pulled him along like a toy on wheels.
"Ah, so Shirou-sama has decided to join us then?"
It really hadn't take them very long to reach the manor's main drive, or to be more accurate in his exhausted state the young King of Steel hadn't noticed the time it took them to get there. The one that had spoke was Yusuke, the resurrected soul having been standing ear to the door as the adoptive siblings came out.
To Shirou's surprise the revived accountant was dressed in loose denim shorts, sandals and an eye-wateringly bright Hawaiian t-shirt. Ever since Yusuke had entered his service Shirou had only ever seen him dressed in working clothes. Some had been more casual than others, but for the most part it had all been the kind of thing that one could expect to find in any office with a semi relaxed dress code. The sight of him in a sky blue short sleeved shirt with shockingly red parrots on it was so discordant it actually shook him from his exhausted haze.
"Y-Yusuke?! Wh-What the . . . ? You . . . ? Why . . . ?"
Well, maybe it hadn't shaken him that much back to sense, he was still having trouble forming coherent sentences.
"Come on!" Illya was tugging him along again, this time towards the van that Yusuke had bought a couple of weeks back.
The van had been purchased in response to the fact that in the past they'd had to move a fair number of people about during the various crises that had hit. The vehicle was large enough to comfortably carry as many as eight people, and could take up to twice that many if no-one minded being tightly packed, possessed a surprisingly powerful engine and was of a design that wouldn't attract too much notice in the city.
However since its purchase the van had done little more than languish in the garage since there hadn't bee much use for it. So what was it doing out now?
Shirou found himself being pushed into the vehicle and he realized that right at that moment he really didn't care. The seats inside were new and still unbroken in and were also surprisingly comfortable. There was also a headrest at just the right setting for him to lean against it. As his eyes drifted shut the young Campione assured himself that he was just going to take a short nap, just enough to get rid of the fluff that was clogging up his brain.
That was all.
Two minutes later Shirou let out a soft snore as Yusuke started up the car engine. He continued to do so even as others boarded the van. He didn't even stir when the tires turned and the gravel crunched beneath them as the van began its journey.
-()-
Alexander Gascoigne, known to the world as Black Prince Alec, was an intelligent man. He was not someone normally prone to acts of irrationality and was a sound thinker and planner.
That said he did have some blind spot, triggers that when tripped would lead him to stubbornly follow a course regardless of how unwise it might be to do so.
One such trigger was the Holy Grail, an artefact that his father had devoted his entire life to searching for, a search that had driven away the future Campione's mother and had in time indirectly led to his father's death. It had been his own search for the Holy Grail that had led Alexander Gascoigne to being in the right place at the right time to encounter the Fallen Angel Ramiel. The encounter had ended with him slaying the divine being through a combination of good fortune and sharp instincts and becoming the first of the 'modern' generation of God Slayers. Even after becoming a Devil King he had continued to search for it using the increased influence his new power afforded him.
He had searched and none had stood in his way. When he found something interesting he took it, normally leaving only a small note to identify who the thief had been, a minor vanity of his. An organization of likeminded people had built up around him and even the Witengamot had come to be wary of.
And yet for all that the object of his search had eluded him. Or at least it had, up until the day he had seen it right before him.
The Holy Grail, the ultimate vessel of magic, it had been offered to him by the queen of the witches herself in exchange for his oath of aid. What he had been searching for his entire adult life, right there before him, and all it would have taken for him to gain possession of it was a single oath.
What a joke, as though he would ever do so. Once he knew who held the Grail all that was left was for him to take it from their hands and place it in his own. And that fact that it was held by Guinevere, the Divine Ancestor that sought to revive the Strongest Steel, made it all the easier to decide upon his course of action.
Since that day he and the witch of Britannia had been enemies, and as such he had kept a close eye on her activities.
And that was what led him to his current situation, namely sitting at the desk in his hotel suite and gripping the report he had just read as though it might try to run away if he gave it the slightest chance. The contents of the report regarded the recent series of events in Japan that had led to the witch Queen apparently taking up residence in the home of the eighth Campione.
The situation was absurd to the point of being unbelievable, but none the less it was the truth. And more than that, the report that he'd just read had contained details that had been stolen from the innermost files of the History Compilation Committee, details about the impossible sword that Emiya Shirou had revealed himself to possess. This Gem Sword that had been shown to the other Campione in his home at the time seemed to be a magical vessel on par with the Holy Grail itself.
In short, an impossibility.
The original Holy Grail had been a masterwork beyond human ability that had only been made possible by the willing sacrifice of a goddess of uncommon power. With the power it held and the purity of its contents the San Graal could perform miracles the likes of which even Devil Kings and Heretic Gods would have trouble matching. Alexander was as of yet not entirely certain if he was right, but his current operating theory was that the Holy Grail was in some way connected to the King of the End, possibly as a tool to aid in his revival.
Whatever the case might be, the Holy Grail was the object of his long time wish. Now there was another prize as well that had caught his attention, this Gem Sword.
He wanted it.
Something like that, something that was on par with the legend that his father had spent his life chasing; he would hold it in his hands and call it his own. Afterwards he'd probably return it to Emiya Shirou, but the important thing would be that at least for a brief time it would be his.
Of course there was the problem of how to get hold of it, but he was confident that his own Authorities, resistance to magic and the skills he had developed over the years would be enough to see to it. The real obstacle was Emiya Shirou himself. Well, him and Guinevere.
If the witch queen was staying at his residence then the Black Prince had no doubt that she had already seen to strengthening the defences of the manor. And Alexander was well aware from his own past experiences that the wards she was capable of putting up were several magnitudes of power greater than anything a mortal could manage, potent enough that they could inconvenience even a Campione such as himself.
Actually, now that he thought about it, there might be a way to use this to his advantage. For the time being his enemy was under the protection of Emiya Shirou so the Black Prince couldn't move against her without making the younger King his enemy. Though Alec had no doubt as to his ability to overcome the more inexperienced Campione the thought of going up against him, Guinevere and Lancelot was far more on the daunting side.
However if he could lure her away, perhaps even trick her into attacking him, then she would be outside Emiya Shirou's protection and be a single target.
His thoughts were interrupted by the cell phone in his pocket buzzing against his ribs. Flipping it open he saw that the caller id was from the agent that he had keeping a discrete eye on the eighth Campione's manor.
"Yes, what is it?"
As the agent on the other end replied a small but satisfied smile broke out across the fourth Campione's face. This piece of news might be just what he needed.
-()-
"Onii-chan, onii-chan. Time to wake up, we're here."
The first thing that came to Shirou's attention as the mists of sleep cleared from his head was the sound of seagulls. They were quite close and he found himself wondering if Asuka knew of a recipe to cook them, given that she seemed to know a recipe for practically everything else.
The next thing to register was that Illya was gently shaking his shoulder in an attempt to wrest him from the gentle hold of sleep.
"Ah, you're awake!" the look on Illya's face was that of a mischievous child about to pull a big prank. Under other circumstances the Emiya heir might have been suitably wary, but as things stood his brain hadn't finished booting up. "Here, put this on, you don't want to spoil the surprise."
Shirou stared down at the scarf that had been thrust into his hands, unsure of just what he should be doing with it. With a 'tsking' sound of easygoing frustration his adopted sister took it back and quickly secured it over his eyes as a blindfold. As soon as the scarf was firmly in place she took him by the arm and guided him out of the van and began to walk him to some unseen destination.
Under his feet he could feel the unyielding hardness of concrete and nearby he could hear the dull roar of the sea. The seaside then? What would Illya bring him here? He wasn't aware of any special event coming up such as a birthday or something like that. So that begged the question as to just what was going on.
Slowly his muzzy brain shook off the last cobwebs of sleep and started to analyse the available facts. Illya had been talking about having enough things to last the week, and she'd also mentioned that his own case had been packed. This meant-
"SURPRISE!"
The blindfold was suddenly pulled away and Shirou found himself blinking in the bright noonday sun. His eyes quickly adjusted and he stared at the sight before him.
It was a yacht. To be more specific it was a VERY big yacht. A very big yacht that gleamed in the sun, with all the lustre of an item that had a price tag with far too many digits on it.
From end to end it must have been at least forty metres and towered over them high enough to confirm that it had at the very least three floors to it. A number of antennae and small satellite dishes studded the topmost part whilst a gangplank led from the dock to its rearmost lower deck. All in all the craft looked like the kind of over luxurious private ship that was normally the purview of royalty or insanely wealthy.
"Yusuke?" There was an almost dreamlike quality to Shirou's voice as he spoke to his first resurrected servant.
"Yes Shirou-sama?"
"This yacht . . . it's not a rental is it?"
"Oh no, as per Illya-chan's orders I bought it lock, stock and barrel. The whole thing and everything on it are yours. Well . . . technically they're mine, since my name was needed for certain legal documents and permits, but we all know that such a thing is in name only. The boat is yours in absolutely every sense that matters."
The young Devil King nodded at that knowing the truth of what his servant said.
"And how much did it cost?"
"I think the finally total was two billion, four hundred and twenty million, fifty eight thousand, one hundred and twenty hundred yen."
When he'd been told how much the mansion that Yusuke had purchased for him was the world had seemed to revolve about Shirou for a brief period as his mind had struggled to come to terms with the sheer amount of money that had been involved. Now the King of Steel could not have felt more disconnected from reality had Mordred himself suddenly appeared before him clad in orange armour and struck him across the face with a live salmon.
"That . . . that's more than the whole manor." Shirou was a bit embarrassed that his words came out as something of a squeak. "I . . . I thought that we were trying to keep a low profile. You know, try not to amass too much wealth to draw attention. How did . . . this happen?" his question was accompanied by a vague gesture that took in the huge yacht before him.
Yusuke blinked at him, clearly taken aback by the question.
"I thought that you were aware Shirou-sama. I did give you an update on our current financial situation both two months ago and a couple of weeks ago. Both should have let you know what was going on."
Shirou opened his mouth to reply . . . then shut it again as his mind recalled a stack of documents on his desk. Letters from local interests in the magical world, requests from businesses hoping to talk him into investing in them, offers from various auction houses and antique dealers trying to drum up business. And, somewhere in that mass, the reports that Yusuke had about the state of the financial empire he was building.
The young Emiya really hadn't meant to let it get away from him the way it had. In the beginning he'd tried to keep on top of the mass of correspondence, but over time it had become a losing battle. The fact that very little of the things he went through had any real importance had only heightened his feelings of antipathy to the task.
Then there had been the whole mess with Venus, the arrival of Guinevere and Tiamat, and the strange sense of irritation that had been dogging him for the last few weeks. Given all of that dealing with his paperwork had fallen even further down on his list of priorities as he had thrown himself into his research into trying to find a way back home. As a result he imagined that the still unread report was buried amidst the rest of the small tower of sheets and envelopes that had once been his in-tray.
Perhaps seeing signs of his guilt on his King's face Yusuke coughed delicately before continuing as though he hadn't said anything.
"That was true when you originally commissioned me, however back then I was only managing the resources appropriate for your cover as a young man that had inherited a small fortune but no business interests. Since Illya-chan gained control of the Circle's assets and you set me to managing them that changed significantly."
"But I thought all the businesses that we got from them were only for show," Shirou said, confusion clear in his voice, "I mean, I know you were working on them but I wasn't expecting anything like . . . this." He once more gestured vaguely at the enormous yacht before him.
"I might have been somewhat more successful in my attempts to rework the former Circle holdings into something profitable." Yusuke said his features those of one slightly abashed.
The eighth Campione's silence was the only reply the resurrected accountant received, so proceeded to explain himself.
"You see, once that mine in southern Italy, the one that they had on the books as a prop, was put into actual work it was found that there were rich coal seams that had previously been missed. Once everything was sorted out the mine was producing a very healthy profit. That reinvigorated the local economy which led to the mine buying up other businesses in order to better support itself and . . . well . . . The thing is that you now own about forty percent of a growing town, and that's only one thing.
"A couple of reopened textile factories have begun to produce cloth that has become part of the latest fashions due to its fine weave. A newly opened printing house is producing the spy novel that has become a national hit. There're even a set of vineyards that are actually making wine for the first time in years, and now there's a waiting list a mile long for their first bottles. Even previously minor businesses have become huge successes. I mean it wasn't as if every single venture was a massive success, some of them failed catastrophically. But even so . . ."
Yusuke paused and looked over to his King. The God Slayer that had battled legends and slain them was staring at him with something like horrified fascination on his face.
"My King . . . your luck truly is an amazing thing."
For his part Shirou was still trying to get his head around what he'd just been told. He was aware that as a Campione his luck was different from that of a regular human. The normal laws of chance were different for him in that he was able to defy the fate of humanity. Exactly what that meant for anything other than fighting gods was a bit on the unclear side, but every document on the subject that he had read was quite clear on the fact that the luck of a Devil King was one that didn't follow the normal rules. He just wasn't sure how this had led to the current circumstances.
As far as he knew specific Authorities with these kinds of effects were very rare. Luo Hao was famous for having one that ensured the prosperity of whichever city she currently inhabited, but that was pretty much it. On the other hand he wasn't aware of any other Campione that had set up a small business empire. Rule of the Underworld had given him access to not only almost limitless wealth but also a means to recruit skilled and absolutely loyal servants. When looked at from that perspective though the Authority was one of the least 'combat worthy' abilities he possessed it was almost tailor made for logistic support. In these modern times that had equated to the kind of wealth and property that Shirou now found himself as the possessor of.
Taking a deep breath he steeled himself and asked the next question.
"Okay, just how much do my total assets come to now?"
"Well," Yusuke's eyes took the far away look of one that was making mental calculations. "Several investments are tied up so that you wouldn't be able to access the funds involved. And then there's the money that's in circulation between the businesses. Still . . . I suppose that if I had to raise the maximum amount of immediate funds by selling everything that I could and getting all the investments together . . ."
There was a pause as the revived soul reached into a bag that had been beside him and pulled out a calculator. A couple of minutes passed as he tapped away on it, but the adopted siblings waited patiently, Shirou with a sort of morbid curiosity, Illya with a genuine interest in the answer.
With a nod to himself Yusuke tucked the small device away and smiled over at his King.
"If I was willing to burn some long term gains in order to get the maximum amount of money now then I think your total assets would come to the total of just under one hundred and sixty billion yen."
Shirou thought that he'd been braced for it, but even so the sheer scale of the numbers made his brain stutter. One hundred and sixty billion yen? If you had told him a year ago that he'd one day have that kind of wealth he'd have thought the one telling him so was pulling his leg. Now . . .
"So . . . how many teddy bears is that?"
Illya's innocent question broke through his thoughts and brought him back to the matter at hand. For a moment the Emiya heir just blinked as he tried and failed to work it out in his head, then a cough from behind him brought his attention back to Yusuke.
"I think that if Shirou-sama bought all the teddy bears that he could he'd have upwards of twenty four million of them."
For a moment Shirou's mind's eye saw a vision of a city of Tokyo populated entirely by hoards of the same metre tall polar bear teddy that his adopted sister had convinced him to buy her. More than twenty four million of them. Alright, that wasn't quite as many as Tokyo's entire population, but it was a good two thirds of it.
Shaking his head in order to clear away thoughts of a teddy bear metropolis the eighth Campione forced himself to concentrate o the matter at hand. His brief sleep seemed to have helped somewhat because the exhausted cobwebs that had previously fogged his mind seemed to be largely gone.
"So what's this all about?" he asked, his arm swinging in a gesture that took in the huge yacht.
"Well, both myself and Illya-chan agreed that you needed to take a vacation. These last few weeks have not been kind to you and you've been pushing yourself far too hard. I commented that perhaps some time at the seaside would do you good and then the next thing I know she's planning this whole thing out."
"Mmmhmm," Illya agreed, "This is going to be a great holiday Shirou, we're going to go to an island a few hours sailing from here which we've rented. We can spend a few days relaxing on the beach, swimming, exploring and camping."
His snow haired sister's face suddenly turned adorably stern as she glared up at her taller adopted sibling.
"And you are not going to train, research or study. You are going to relax; even if I have to tie you up to make you do it."
For a moment Shirou felt a surge of the irritation that had been hounding him ever since the fiasco with Venus. Irritation that his work had been interrupted, irritation that his little sister was telling him what to do, irritation that the world in general seemed to be conspiring to get in his way. For a brief moment it hung in his mind, then like a candle flame blown out by a puff of air it was gone.
An almost self mocking chuckle threatened to escape his throat, but he kept it down. Illya was right, for the last few weeks he'd been running himself ragged in an attempt to accomplish something, anything really. He'd managed to sharpen his skills and had gained some useful assets, but it hadn't been the kind of thing he was looking for. The problem was that he wasn't really making any sort of progress lately. In fact, given his state in the last few days, he probably had been working so poorly that he'd have to go over everything he'd done so as to ensure that there weren't any mistakes.
Yes, a holiday might be just what he needed.
Still that did leave one question.
"So why this?" once again he gestured at the yacht, "Why not just rent one or something?"
In answer to the question Yusuke rolled his eyes once before staring rather pointedly in Illya's direction.
"Well, you see I saw an article about private yachts and how they made for awesome vacations, so I looked up the best ones for sale and found this one."
"Illya . . . that yacht cost more than the mansion we're living in."
"I know, that's just how awesome it is."
He really had no reply for that, Illya's innocent statement had managed to render him speechless at the what she'd done. In a single purchase she'd spent more money than he'd ever even seen in his entire life on a something that was really just a gross luxury item.
"Come on, I want to show why it's so great." Tugging on his arm once more Illya dragged him towards the massively costly boat.
-()-
Godou swung the wooden sword he down with all the force that he could muster.
"Not good enough! Tighten your stance and be careful with the set of your shoulders! Now, a dozen more stokes!"
The seventh Campione was not a vindictive or malicious person by nature, indeed out of all the Devil Kings that he'd met he took some pride in being the least prone to violence. That said he still briefly contemplated summoning up his Shining Chariot Authority and then using it to run over the object of his irritation a few dozen times.
It had all started a few weeks back when he'd received a message from Luo Hao stating that she was dispatching gifts to both him and Emiya Shirou. In all truth the elder of the Kusanagi siblings had been a bit worried about just what his oath sister would send him as a 'suitable' gift for a fellow King. He'd been plagued by wild notions such as her sending him something like a tiger cub for a pet or setting up some over elaborate statue outside his front door.
But as it turned out what he'd received in the end had been even more troublesome in its own way.
Tanaka Kenshirou had apparently been in the service of the Chinese Campione for almost his entire life. His parents had been martial artists that had immigrated to the mainland in order to study under the woman that stood at the absolute pinnacle of the Martial world. As it turned out they and their art had been impressive enough that her Eminence had taken them as part of her personal attendants.
Consequently Kenshirou, who had only been three years old at the time, had grown up in the presence of the beautiful God Slayer and had developed an almost fanatical level of loyalty and devotion to her. For the next forty years he'd served her with dedication and competence and had earned a place as both an agent and a student. Though not a direct disciple like Lu Yinghua he had still had the honour of personal instruction from Luo Cuilian on a number of occasions, all of which had been most enlightening and instructive.
He had been greatly honoured with the latest assignment that she had given him, and had resolved to give it his all. To that end he had travelled back to the land of his birth and had presented himself to the sworn brother of his most honoured teacher and King. He had explained that in her graciousness and generosity the Ruler of the Martial Realm had decided that it was unseemly for her sworn sibling to possess as Sword Authority and yet to lack the training to swing it properly.
Kenshirou had found the notion to be almost unbelievable. For a young King to wield one of the great blades that surpassed all human creations and yet not be able to use it properly was . . . unthinkable, and yet Her Majesty had confirmed it to him. In her words; 'King Godou is a most worthy King, one able to snatch victory from the very jaws of defeat through pure perseverance. However for all that he might as well be swinging about a farmer's hoe as a divine sword, his skill in both their uses is about equal.'
Well, it was his task to see about changing that. Out of all those that served her Eminence he was by far the most skilled in the use of Japanese blades, having reached a level that the Chinese Campione had deemed 'acceptable' in one of her attendants.
The servant of Godou's sworn sister had admitted that that thought was always one that brought a smile to his lips, given that what his liege deemed 'acceptable' was what most grandmasters would look upon with envy. And now it was his sworn duty to pass those self same skills onto the young King that had so impressed his Ruler.
All of this had been explained to the seventh Campione at their first meeting, along with the reason that Kenshirou had been sent to Japan once more. Once he learnt of Luo Hao's intentions Godou had been less than pleased with her plans for him. He'd explained to the balding sword master that he didn't really have any interest in learning the ways of the blade. To Godou's mind in the modern world, where simply carrying around a sword could end up getting you arrested, the skill of actually using a blade was largely useless. That in his case such a thing was decidedly NOT the case had been ignored as inconvenient.
Unfortunately neither Erica nor Liliana had been willing to go along with that particular bit of hypocrisy. As far as they were concerned the notion of him learning to wield the Ama no Murakumo no Tsurugi with even some degree of skill was a notion worth pursuing. It had taken them quite some effort and time, but in the end they had been able to badger their King into agreeing to take lessons with Kenshirou every other day.
At first it had been quite the uphill struggle to get Godou to make any sort of progress. He found that he just didn't have any sort of enthusiasm for it, no real drive to improve. The servant sent by his sworn sister to act as his instructor had been polite, patient and understanding. Well . . . he had been to start with anyway.
Kenshirou was no fool and had quickly seen that his approach of gentle instruction was simply not yielding the desired results. With that in mind he had politely enquired of the young Devil King whether or not it would be permissible for him to alter his teaching approach. Somewhat irritated by his own lack of clear progress Godou had informed him that if he thought it was for the best then he could do whatever he wanted.
Oh there were nights he regretted those words.
The next day his calm and understanding sensei had been replaced with a drill sergeant from the very depths of hell. From then on each lesson had been a gruelling ordeal that had always left him exhausted both mentally and physically. No flaws were allowed and no mistakes were tolerated, if he made one wrong swing then he had to do twenty flawless swings to make up for it. Again and again he'd swung the wooden sword he was given until his hands blistered and his muscles screamed.
And the worst part of it all was that despite how much he hated it all this approach really was providing results. Every day the swings and thrusts of his sword were coming easier to him. Each day he made fewer mistakes and progressed a little bit further. It had been less than a month since he began his training, and already he was at a level where he could spar with Erica or Liliana, so long as they used no magic. Granted, he had yet to achieve a single true victory against either of them, but the fact that he was able to spar with them as opposed to being beaten in one or two moves was impressive in and of itself.
According to Erica, and Kenshirou had voiced his own agreement with the idea, Godou's nature as a Campione was allowing him to advance at an accelerated rate due to his enhanced vitality and hidden warrior instincts. The training was progressing well and soon he'd be able to wield Ama no Murakumo no Tsurugi far more effectively than he had before.
That still didn't keep him from daydreaming of the Boar trampling this instructor into the ground when he was being particularly strident.
Still, he was able to derive a certain degree of satisfaction from the knowledge that he was not alone in his suffering. Shirou must have also received a 'gift' from Luo Hao, after all if she had sent something to her sworn brother then it was a certainty that she had also sent a similar gift to her sworn ally. That was just the kind of personality she had.
He knew it was petty and childish, but the knowledge that it wasn't just him having to go through this did make him feel a bit better.
As he brought his wooden sword down once more, hard enough that droplets of sweat splashed out off his slick arms, he wondered just what kind of hellish training Shirou was being put through. He was already a really good fighter, especially with those weapons that he could create. Sure, his skills weren't at the same ridiculous level that Doni possessed, but even so, even without his Authorities the King of Steel was a nightmare to fight. With skills like that it was unlikely that he'd be undergoing mundane training like Godou. No, more likely he was doing something more . . . exotic.
A small smile touched his lips as he imagined the red haired teen slogging through snow drifts or jogging across a desert. Yeah, for someone like Shirou hellish training like that was probably what he'd have to go through.
"Do not let your mind wander! Twenty more strokes! And make them PERFECT!"
As he settled to once more focusing upon his strokes the seventh Campione wondered just what kind of nightmare terrain the eighth Campione was being forced to endure.
That and whether or not it made him a bad person that he hoped it was as unpleasant as having to deal with Kenshirou's tender teachings.
-()-
The yacht was less of a boat and more like a floating mansion. That was the first concise thought that had gone through Shirou's head since Illya had begun to show him about the yacht that she'd had purchase as a surprise gift for him.
There were four decks to the boat, each one a sight in and of itself. The uppermost and smallest was an open sky deck suitable for sunbathing or just enjoying the view. A number of recliners, deck chairs and parasols were set up so that there were a number of options. To make matters even more comfortable was the large Jacuzzi built into the deck to offer an even more luxurious option.
The next deck had an outdoor dining area, which was adjacent to a small but well equipped gym with an en-suit bathroom. There was also another sun deck available upon which to laze and soak up the sun. The rest was taken up by the captain's cabin and the yacht's bridge.
The next floor boasted an indoor saloon complete with entertainment system, bar and lounge as well as an outside aft deck area that served as a second lounge. There was also the yacht's master bedroom, an affair so grand that even world class hotels would have been pressed to match it.
The last floor, at least the last floor that 'passengers' had anything to do with, was mainly taken up with various cabins for either the guests or crew. There was also a small built in 'garage' at the rear of the boat that housed a pair of jet skis and a small inflatable motor boat.
All in all the yacht was something akin to a small palace. The rich carpets, elegant furnishings and tasteful decorations all combined to produce an air of sophisticated luxury that was somewhat pleasing to be in.
"The Committee sent us some people to act as the crew," Illya explained as they sat down in the main lounge. "So we can just sit back and enjoy the ride. The kitchen's fully stocked, so you can have as much fun as you want. This time there'll be no Asuka to get in your way."
Strangely, or not if one knew Shirou, it was the promise of unlimited access to the kitchen that lifted the young God Slayer's heart the most. A sea trip and a holiday on a privately rented island was nice, but to be finally able to have unrestricted access to the kitchen without his domineering housekeeper looking on disapprovingly, that was something near paradise.
"So where-"
A suddenly clattering of wood on wood cut off Shirou's question before he was able to finish it. Looking behind him he saw Guinevere was trying to make her way up the gangplank. Unfortunately her efforts were being hindered by the collection of wooden lengths and rolls of cloth that she was carrying, a collection so large that she was having trouble keeping her balance.
Without really thinking about it the young King got up and quickly moved to exit the lounge and join her. As it turned out he was just in time, the large nature of her burden as well as the fact that she couldn't see her feet had come together to tip the child-like immortal off balance. The railing of the gangplank was enough to ensure that she wouldn't fall off, but the bundle she was carrying was not so lucky. But as it started to tip over Shirou reached out and caught the end.
"Ah, that you Sir Shirou. It would have been most inconvenient had that fallen overboard, this is Guinevere's favourite sun chair after all."
The witch queen's smile was a bright and happy thing as she adjusted her grip on the mass of wood and cloth.
"Why are you carrying it around like that? Wouldn't it be easier to transport it with your magic?"
Honestly Shirou wanted to know why she was coming at all. Why had she left the safety of the manor? Was it to stay near to him? That did make some sense, given that he was the source of her protection. When looked at from that perspective it only made sense for her to want to accompany him.
The buddle shifted again and the form of an uninflected beach ball poked out.
Or perhaps she simply wanted to go to the beach. It was a strangely human motivation to ascribe to an immortal child with more magic than any mortal could ever hope to possess, but perhaps such humanity was not the sole purview of man alone.
"Tis a holiday Sir Shirou, and on holiday one does not do things as they normally would."
"On that we can agree Lady Guinevere. However that does not mean that you have to take the most inconvenient route."
The voice came from Shirou's right, from a place he knew full well had not been occupied by anyone a moment before. Turning his head he saw the tall and sensual figure of Tiamat, her clothes hugging her form most pleasingly even as her shawl flapped in the slight breeze rolling in from the sea. Rather than looking at either him or the Divine Ancestor her gaze was focused upon the horizon, to the point where the ocean met the sky.
"So you'll be coming too?"
"Of course," there was no hint of shame or embarrassment in her reply, "Though I am much reduced I am a goddess of the sea. As soon as I heard your sibling preparing her plans I informed her that I would be accompanying you upon your short voyage."
She paused for a moment as she took in a deep breath of ocean air.
"I had forgotten how good it can feel to be close to the great seas again. I must remember to do some service for your sister as thanks for providing this most welcome opportunity."
Without waiting for anyone's reaction to her words Tiamat began to make her way to the bow of the ship where a small deck with some chairs was available. At a guess Shirou imagined she was going to claim one of those seats and stay there for a good long while enjoying the sea air.
For her part Guinevere hadn't shown much reaction to the fallen goddess's words. There had been a slight narrowing of her eyes, but other than that she hadn't seemed to be surprised by her appearance. As the Mother of Dragons made her own way off the Divine Ancestor adjusted her hold on her bundle and carefully made her way onto the yacht.
"Hello Guinevere, please . . . let me show you to your cabin."
Shirou almost jumped when he heard Illya speak from almost directly behind him. Really, how was it that even after all the combat awareness training he'd been forcing himself through she was still able to slip up on him as easily as she had the first day she met him?
"Guinevere is quite fine, I ca-"
That was all the child-like immortal was able to get out before the one-time vessel for the Holy Grail seized her arm and, with the inextricable force of a helpful child, dragged her off. As she left the red haired teen heard her chattering cheerfully to her 'captive'.
"Don't worry, I know you don't want to be a bother but there're a limited number of cabins available so we have to be careful about who gets which. I think that you . . ."
Her voice died out as she led the protesting Divine Ancestor down some stairs and out of sight.
Finding himself alone on the deck Shirou leaned backwards against the railing and gazed up at the sky. It was a nice sky, wide and blue with only a slight dash of clouds to give it a bit of character. The sun shone down with the kind of brightness that was warming without being too harsh or blazing. A soft breeze rustled his hair and carried the scent of the sea to him. All in all this was a day almost tailor made to be on holiday.
With a nod to himself Shirou came to a decision. Illya was right; he needed some time off, away from his research and his study. Taking some time off to recharge his batteries wouldn't be a betrayal of Sakura or anything like that; it was just something he needed to do if he wanted to keep going at his best.
"Ah, hello Shirou-sama. I'm pleased to see that you'll be joining us as planned."
Glancing back down at the dock the young Emiya saw that Kaida and Manaka had just arrived, some car he didn't recognize having just dropped them off. Both pulled wheeled carry cases and were dressed in casual clothes. That was somewhat odd, having gotten so used to seeing them in their maid uniforms it was odd to see the Hime-Miko in a light blue sundress and her bodyguard in jeans and a t-shirt. For a moment he considered why they were coming along, then decided that they had as much right as anyone. Among the staff of his manor apart from his resurrected servants they were really the ones he trusted the most. They'd stood with Illya when he needed them to, even when the odds they had faced were so fearsome as to be ludicrous.
He'd been meaning to get to know them better, to spend a bit more time with them, but even in the weeks following the Feast what time he had spent with them had been focused more on the magic lessons that they'd been giving him rather than simple socializing.
Actually, now that he thought about it, that had been the case with almost everyone that he'd interacted with over the last few months. Godou, Luo Hao, John Pluto Smith, Guinevere, Tiamat, Kaida, Manaka, the various representatives from the Committee, the members of the Circle that roomed at his manor, to all of them the only face that he could show was that of the King of Steel. He'd originally worn the face and personality of the False King as some means of bluffing the local powers that, at the time, he'd thought would inevitably move against him. By putting up a façade of regal authority and command he'd hoped to forestall any moves against him and cover up his own weaknesses.
Now though that same mask had become something he wore practically all the time, the only ones he could be himself around were Illya and the resurrected souls that he knew to be loyal to him. It was starting to chafe, that was the plain and simple truth. He was spending so much time as the Devil King Emiya-sama that he didn't seem to be able to spend any time as Shirou.
Maybe this trip would be good for more than simply recharging his own batteries, it would also be a chance to be a bit more informal with his guests and . . . what were Kaida and Manaka anyway? The term 'servant' didn't quite suit them, even if they were technically his maids, yet at the same time they weren't yet close enough to be friends. Allies was a good description, but it didn't seem quite right either . . .
Ah, why was he agonizing over something so trivial? What did it matter what he called them in the privacy of his own head, with any luck once this trip was over he'd be able to call them friends, that was good enough.
Nodding to himself in ever so slight acknowledgement of his own point Shirou then nodded more obviously at the girls.
"Would either of you like a hand with those cases?"
He might as well start as he meant to go on. Both the Committee agents were visibly surprised by the offer, but both shook their heads politely.
"No thank you Shirou-sama," Kaida called back, "They aren't too heavy, and Manaka is more than able if I have need."
In physical illustration of her friend's assertion the witch fighter reached down and lifted up both the suitcases as though each weighed no more than a rolled up newspaper.
As he watched the two young women come up the gangplank Shirou decided that the next few days were definitely going to be interesting.
-()-
Guinevere was careful to remind herself that Sir Shirou would not be in the least pleased if he found that she had turned his sister into a salt statue. Granted it would be difficult and would have nowhere near the same level of potency as the transformation induced by a god's Authority, but she could do it.
The moment had been so perfect; Sir Shirou had been lured in to help her by her perceived inconvenience and had entered into conversation with her. From there it would have been easy to persuade him to promise her some time over the course of this holiday. Once that was secured she'd have been able to subtly question him on the possible origins of his unique qualities, nothing major, just some casual querying that would hopefully give her a starting point for a more detailed questioning that wouldn't bother her host.
It was a good plan, a simple one with the absolute minimum of aspects that could go wrong. Even if she was to fail and Sir Shirou chose not to share anything with her there would probably be little negative impact to her standing with him. Indeed, the hardest part of the plan had been deciding just what she was going to ask him given the multitude of mysteries that followed him about. His nature of Steel? The impossible blade Arondight? The world of weapons that had allowed him to defeat two of his peers simultaneously? His connection to her long missing King? There were just so many things that she could ask about.
Well, for now at least the plan had been neatly curtailed by the intervention of the young King's sister. To be sure, there would most likely be more opportunities in the days to come, but she'd been hoping to establish a metaphorical beachhead early. However by the looks of things this Illyasviel Von Einzbern was wise to her plans and had quickly moved to cut them off.
"Here you go. I'm sure this will prove comfortable for your stay here."
Guinevere blinked as she realized that the short trek had ended and they were now standing before a door to one of the cabins. The door was open as the white haired child was politely holding it open for her since her arms were too full with the sun chair she was carrying to be able to properly do it herself.
Once in the room the witch queen was pleasantly surprised by how spacious it was. Though many of her memories from her previous lives were hazy or just gone she did have recollections of some sea voyages she'd been forced to undertake the mortal way so as to go unnoticed. Days and even weeks of being crammed into a small stuffy room with bedding that grew increasingly pungent as time went on and latrines that started to smell worse and worse as time passed no matter what measures were taken. At the time it had taken all of Guinevere's considerable will power not to burn the entire galley behind after she left using her magic.
This time the cabin in which she had been housed was far roomier. A large queen-sized bed took up the middle while portholes on either side of the room let the light in. An en-suite bathroom could be seen through a small door, while one side of the cabin was taken up with a dresser and the other side by a comfy chair and cupboard.
All in all the accommodations she'd been given were more along what she would have expected from a fine modern hotel rather than a cabin on a private yacht.
It was surprising in a way, she honestly hadn't expected Sir Shirou's sister, a girl that quite obviously distrusted her, to provide her with such comfortable accommodations. Given her status as a Divine Ancestor, and a powerful one at that, she had not expected to be granted insultingly small quarters, but she had expected them to just skirt such an offence. Instead she had been granted a cabin that was nearly as luxurious as the rooms she'd occupied in her own manor.
Putting down her bundle Guinevere turned to face her small companion. Well, perhaps calling her small was a bit unfair, given that they were more or less the same size. But in both their cases she was aware that their diminutive stature was deceptive of the power they wielded. In a way the sister of the King of Steel was someone that she had to be more wary of than Sir Shirou himself. Her host was one that would treat her gently even if they were to become foes, her past actions in aiding him had ensured that. To be sure if they were to somehow become enemies the witch queen had no doubt that he'd put his full force into stopping her, but likewise she was sure that he would aim to defeat rather than slay her.
Illyasviel was another matter entirely. Even when they'd first met Guinevere had been aware that there was something about the young girl that made her wary. At the time she had been in the company of four God Slayer, three of whom she had only passing knowledge of, and despite that it had been the white haired sister of Sir Shirou that had unsettled her the most.
Careful observation of the girl in the months since the Feast had done little to reduce that caution. Illyasviel had proven herself to be an excellent mage, though the school and method that she used was one that the Divine Ancestor was unable to place. Her personal reserves of power were enormous, much larger than should have been possible for a mortal even thrice her age and with a lifetime of training. And of course there was her ability in battle. The Japanese spear that she wielded was bad enough when combined with her magecraft, though as of yet the girl had made only small advances in that direction and only recently. No, the real cause for concern was the huge black juggernaut of a hulk that she could some into existence at an apparent whim.
The first time she had seen the giant Guinevere had thought that the girl had somehow managed to tame some sort of Divine Beast to her will, there had seemed to be no other possible explanation. The creature was simply too powerful to be some sort of golem or bound spirit. However closer inspection had shown it to not possess ay sort of independence that would mark it as a divinity. Quite frankly the dark giant was a mystery to Guinevere, it was almost something that could be regarded as an Authority, and yet it was also clearly not.
So much like the world of weapons that Sir Shirou had conjured up.
The simple fact of the matter was that both of the siblings seemed to go out of their way to turn what were century long conventions on their heads. But Sir Shirou was a Campione; a human that had defied the hierarchy of the world by killing a god, to him such a thing was almost natural. That his sister could do something similar was far more . . . unsettling.
"This will be most comfortable indeed, Guinevere thanks you for it." The queen of the Divine Ancestors declared as she inclined her head slightly in thanks.
"That's fine," the bright smile that Illyasviel gave her was slightly irritating. It seemed to be entirely too pleased with itself and made Guinevere wonder what she was missing. "We'll be giving the other queen-bedroom to Tiamat-san while Kaida and Manaka will be sharing a two bed cabin and Yusuke will have the other two bed cabin to himself."
A frown touched the eternal child's face as she mentally went over the floor-plan for this yacht that she'd seen a couple of days ago. There were two queen sized cabins, two double bed cabins and four bunk bed cabins for the crew. Apart from that there was the captain's cabin and the master cabin. So that begged the question . . .
"So . . . Guinevere trusts that the master cabin is reserved for Sir Shirou?"
"Of course, this is onii-chan's holiday so he has to have a nice room to stay in."
"Then . . . where are you sleeping?" the number of cabins didn't add up, so that meant-
"Oh, I'll be sharing the bed with onii-chan."
The statement was made with such casualness that Guinevere almost missed it, it was only the sight of the blush colouring the young girl's cheeks that made her stop and re-examine what she'd just heard. In fact the Divine Ancestor had almost begun nodding and turning away before her mind caught up with what she'd heard. Once it did her head whipped round to face the girl so quickly that Guinevere felt a very slight 'click' in her neck.
"It's hardly an unusual thing," there was a definite hint of defensiveness in Illyasviel's tone even as the flush remained on her face, "I've slept with Shirou before and I thought it would be nice to spend some more time together during this holiday."
Oh that sneaky little minx! The blush on her face told of her having decidedly un-sisterly thoughts on the matter. That meat that she was positioning herself to block any attempts by either herself or Tiamat to surprise Sir Shirou in his bed chamber.
. . . Not that she'd had any such plans of course. She was the queen of the witches, not some loose moraled strumpet after all. She would have made no such move to try to seduce her host, most certainly not.
Really.
And those dreams that she'd been having, nothing but idle fancies. Her heart was still devoted to the resurrection of her King and she would not allow a childish infatuation distract her from her goals
Even if she really did like those dreams where Sir Shirou held her close and kissed her and praised her and-
Aaaahhhh, she was doing it again. Guinevere felt her own cheeks begin to flush as embarrassment ran through her, but forced it down with an effort of will. This was nothing, merely a minor setback. She'd be able to adapt.
"It is so kind of Sir Shirou to treat his sister so kindly, truly his care for children is a most admirable quality."
It was a rather weak dig, especially since it applied to her as much as it did to Illyasviel, however it seemed to go home since despite her best efforts a scowl did touch the child's features for an instant before she was able to control herself. It was a small victory, but in her current situation the witch of Britannia was willing to take what she could get.
"I hope that everything is fine for you," Illyasviel said, her face all smiles once more, "I'll get back to onii-chan now. Just so you know we should be casting off shortly. Once we're sailing you can join us in the lounge to discuss plans for the next few days."
With those words the white haired girl let herself out and closed the door behind her.
(Oh ho, it would seem that a most troublesome rival has appeared to block your attempts to woo King Shirou.)
The words, spoken in an amused tone of pure good humour, caught Guinevere by surprise as she stared about her trying to find their source. Oh, she knew whom it was that spoke to her, indeed she knew that voice as well as she did her own. What surprised her was that she was hearing it here and now.
"Sir Knight?"
(Indeed, this knight thought it time to share my words with my most precious child.)
"B-But how? Guinevere is most pleased to be able to speak with her beloved protector, but I thought that the spell that bound you meant we could only speak when using the waters of a lake save for when you had manifested upon this plane. Though it is most fortunate Guinevere would know how Sir Knight has broken this restriction."
(I feel this latest change may be laid at the feet of that young King that you've been following about. Ever since this knight held the sword that he lent me much of the strength and vitality imparted by the sword has yet to fade completely. Though the old restrictions still bind me those bindings are looser than they have been for centuries, thus may this knight speak to you using the reflection in this glass in place of the face of a lake.)
That came as a surprise. In the centuries since her knight had undertaken her protection and entered 'his' incompletely descended state 'he'd' only been able to regain 'his' lost vigour by bathing in the power of thunderbolts. Their power had injected vitality back into 'his' lethargic frame despite the pain enduring them caused. For them to have found something else that was more effective was both a boon and a concern.
"Sir Knight will be able to speak with Guinevere more often then?"
(Indeed, this most fortunate changes means that this knight may speak with his beloved charge far more freely than in days past.)
She could see 'him' now. In the glass that made up the covering of the porthole nearest to her was a hazy image. To most others it would have been indistinct, but to her there was no doubt as to who it could be. The angle of the helm's curves, the shade of its metal, the way that the red tassel at the back moved in accordance to the helm's movements. All of these she knew as well as she did the colour of her own blood. Granted, it was strange to see the familiar image upon glass rather than the surface of a lake, but if it meant that she could see her dear protector more often then she was not going to complain.
(Now then, let us begin planning how you may capture the young King's eyes and ensure that his attention shall be solely yours. This knight will do all he may in order to let his dear child attain the goal she seeks.)
Or . . . maybe it wasn't quite so fortunate. It would seem that her beloved guardian was now far freer to be 'helpful'. Unfortunately, though she loved 'him' dearly, Sir Knight could never be called much of a deep thinker. All 'his' talent was in battle and charging. If 'he' tried to be of aid to her plans then things might become much more complicated very quickly.
Oh well, what was the worst that could happen?
-()-
Yusuke smiled to himself as he unpacked his suitcase and stowed his clothes away in the small cupboard built into the side of the cabin.
Things were coming along quite nicely. When Illya-chan had proposed this idea to him he'd been a bit concerned with just how his King would react to it. With his recent ill humour the resurrected accountant had worried that his liege would be unwilling to take the time to enjoy the newly purchased yacht. However by the looks of it Shirou-sama had realized just how much he was wearing himself out and had understood the wisdom of taking some time off to recharge his batteries.
As he hung up his last shirt Yusuke felt a slight shudder run through the ship about him and heard the soft rumble of the engines grow slightly in volume. Though there was power there the actual volume of the noise was very low, still that was hardly a surprise. Given how much the Yacht had cost the fact that it came with not only a top of the line engine but also the very best and latest in sound proofing as well was hardly unexpected.
If all truth were to be told the resurrected soul would have preferred to have bought a less expensive yacht. There had been a number of smaller models that would have served just as well for what had been planned and would have cost considerably less. Unfortunately Illya-chan had the utter inability to grasp the concepts of money that came with never having to worry about financial matters even once in her entire life. To her the concept of objects costing money wasn't so much foreign, as it was something that had just never applied to her. In her mind prices weren't so much things to be concerned about as they were markers of how valuable something was.
Simply put as far as the young girl was concerned the more expensive something was then logically that meant that it was that much better. And since she had wanted to get her adopted brother the best yacht for him to go on holiday in that meant that the more it cost then the better it must be.
Well, at least they had certainly received their money's worth; the yacht was equipped with every luxury that could reasonably be crammed on board as well as a couple that stretched the limits of credulity. Even his cabin, technically the smallest for the guests, was equal or superior to most hotel rooms that he'd stayed in during his youth.
Thoughts of his youthful travels through China, Mongolia and Russia were cut off as he moved his towel and saw the first thing that he'd packed when he was getting ready to leave.
He still wasn't entirely sure why he'd chosen to take the tablet from his office with him. At the time he'd been thinking that the cabin he'd be staying in might be a bit on the dull side and that maybe he should bring along something to give it a bit of character. He'd considered grabbing a poster from his room, or bringing along a framed photo, but in the end he'd elected to bring along the stone tablet . . . that wasn't really all that interesting to look at . . .
. . . And which weighed nearly as much as everything else in his suitcase put together.
. . . And which he had no way of fixing in place.
. . . Why had he thought this was a good idea?
With a shake of his head Yusuke propped it up on the top of the small dresser that was built into one of the cabin's corners and then framed it with a couple of hardback books that he'd brought along to read in the evenings. Alright, that might not be the most secure fixture in the world, but as long as the yacht didn't have to sail through any storms or get attacked by whales or giant squids then it should be alright.
The undead accountant paused for a moment as he re-evaluated his last thought and realized that he had indeed been taking the possibility that the ship would be attacked by terrible tentacled monstrosities from the deep seriously. Granted, he was setting the metaphorical sails with a God Slayer on board, and if you took that into account then the concept of being attacked by creatures out of legend and mythology were somewhat less absurd than otherwise. Still, the fact was that he had seriously wondered whether or not the tablet would remain in place if the yacht was attacked by a swarm of deep sea monsters.
Maybe Shirou-sama wasn't the only one that needed to take some time to recharge his batteries. His workload over the past few weeks had been considerable to say the least. Granted it had been the sort of thing that he lived for, and having a nigh unlimited budget to work with had let him do things he'd always dreamed of, but never had the money to pull off. But even so he'd been running on maximum burn for almost the entire time straight, and even if his need for rest and sleep was curtailed by his status as a resurrected soul it looked like he still had his limits.
As his thoughts turned to the possibilities of restful sunbathing and rediscovering his lost skills in sand castle building Yusuke turned back to his suitcase and dismissed the stone tablet from his mind.
Behind him the eyes of the figure carved onto the tablet's surface glowed for a moment, then faded back to normal stone.
-()-
Shirou stood on the deck of the yacht and drew in a deep breath of salty sea air.
It had been about an hour since they left the Tokyo harbour and the small ship was now swiftly making its way towards the south-eastern isle that was their goal. It was still a fair distance away, enough that the trip would take a few hours yet, but that was fine with him.
The young King felt . . . uplifted, unburdened with the pressures that he'd been piling onto himself for the past few weeks. This really had been something that he'd needed, some rest and relaxation.
And some fun, that was something he'd been in short supply of in recent times. There had been satisfaction in his studies and exhilaration in his training, but save for his less formal times with Illya he hadn't derived any genuine entertainment from any of his more recent activates. For that matter even his time with his adopted sister had been somewhat spoilt by the constant nagging feeling that he was letting her down by not yet having found a way back to their home reality.
Now though, things were a bit different. The whole point of this trip was for him to unwind and have some enjoyment. Well, if that was the case the he was going to start right now.
At one end of the deck was a white and black boxy structure that tugged at his mind. Moving over he checked the item, sliding back the curved 'hood' at the top to get a look at what was underneath. What he saw brought a smile to his lips and an idea to his mind.
Right, first move was to raid the kitchen and see what kind of herbs, spices and sauces were available. He was sure there'd be some garlic to be had, maybe some lemons as well. Simple salt and pepper were pretty much guaranteed so that left him with a number of options. Depending on what else he was able to get together then he'd-
"Ah, Shirou-sama, good morning to you."
He was brought out of his thoughts the sound of Manaka's voice. Looking up he saw that Kaida's bodyguard was just coming through the door that led onto the deck. She was still dressed in the same jeans and t-shirt as before, but now she'd also donned a bright green cap, one decorated with a startlingly yellow canary, that jarred rather discordantly with her dull red t-shirt. She must have noticed him staring at the cap, because a slight blush touched her cheeks as her shoulders hunched slightly in a defensive gesture that must have been purely instinctual.
"It was a gift from Kaida-sama. She thought it was cute."
It was all Shirou could do not to chuckle . . . and that made him pause. Why was he trying to hold back his mirth? He was sick and tired of having to be the King of Steel all the time; would it really be so bad to just be Shirou for a bit?
The witch fighter actually looked rather shocked when the chuckle finally made itself heard, and for some reason that seemed to be even funnier which prompted another series of stifled laughs.
"Uh . . . Shirou-sama . . . ?"
Shaking his head and letting a smile spread across his face the Emiya heir gestured for her to follow him as he headed down to the kitchen. An extra pair of arms to carry things might well be useful and could save him having to make a second trip.
"Tell me Manaka-san; are you any good at fishing?"
The magically trained body guard blinked in surprise at the apparently unrelated question.
"I-I've never really tried, but I do think that Yusuke-san mentioned there were a couple of rods somewhere. He mentioned that it was one of the ways he relaxed in his younger days and was looking forwards to trying it again."
"Hmmmmm . . ."
For his part it suddenly occurred to Shirou that this was one of the few times he had ever seen Manaka without her charge nearby. Odd that, it was only slightly more frequent that he saw Kaida without her bodyguard than he did the reverse.
"Where's Kaida?" he asked as he made his way down the spiral staircase to the lower deck that housed the kitchen.
"She's having . . . trouble adjusting to being on a boat. She's lying on her bed right now and said that I should have a look round since she wanted some alone time."
Kaida was seasick? The image seemed rather absurd when he thought about it. The black haired Hime-Miko always had a certain air of dignity about herself, even when her over-energetic tendencies shone through. The notion of her lying in bed and looking green from the rocking of the yacht was just too at odds with her normal self to be taken seriously.
"I hope she feels better soon. Hmmm, maybe I can fix her something to settle her stomach. If there's some ginger and maybe so . . ."
The seventh Campione's musings trailed off into silence as his thoughts spun around the planned cuisine that he'd soon be preparing.
Behind him Kuhoutsuka Manaka followed and quietly wondered just what was going on with the King she had sworn to serve.
-()-
The first hint that Illya had that something might be going on was when her nose caught a slight hint of smoke coming in through the cabin's porthole.
The second hint had been the sudden explosion that sent a small tremor through the entire frame of the boat.
The snow haired girl had been in the process of setting up a second bed next to the suite's master bed. Granted this second affair was more like a slightly elaborate camp bed, but given the good weather it should be more than enough. She was well aware, despite her earlier digs at Guinevere, that her onii-chan might not look upon her sleeping every night in the same bed as him with complete approval.
That was what the second bed was for. As things stood the only other option to rooming with Shirou was to bunk down with Yusuke, and while she was slightly fond of the funny and hardworking old man Illya had no intention of spending the trip with him. With that being the case it would be fine for her to share the room with Shirou, and if she got lonely in the night and slipped into his bed every now and then . . . well, she was just an innocent little girl that wanted to spend time with her beloved adopted brother.
There were some advantages to her status as a child, though if all truth were to be told Illya would have much preferred to looking her real age, it would have made seducing Shirou to be much easier.
The thought had been made more in jest than anything else. Though the Einzbern representative still didn't quite approve of her adopted brother's choice of lover she did acknowledge that he was in love with her. Still, that didn't change the fact that her own affection for her adopted sibling had some distinctly unsibling-like qualities to it.
When one thought about it this was all Shirou's fault. What did he expect to happen when he offered kindness and affection to a young girl that had been starved of such emotions ever since her parents had disappeared from her life? When you took that into account was it any surprise that her feelings for him ended up going beyond mere familial affection?
Well, whatever the case might be her contemplation of her feelings to her adopted brother were brought up short by the loud boom that shook the vessel.
The shudder that ran through the boat came at just the wrong moment for her. She'd just been in the process of lifting her now only partially full case up onto the top shelf of the cupboard when it happened. Sadly, due to her slight height and build, she'd been forced to balance on her tiptoes in order to reach high enough to get it done. Sure she could have waited for Shirou to arrive and ask him to do it for her, but she'd been feeling stubborn and hadn't wanted to have to rely on someone else.
The tremor came at just the right time to make her overbalance and fall flat on her back with her case coming down on top of her as it sprang open.
Really she was lucky that it did so since rather than the whole weight of it and its contents falling on her, instead a small avalanche of shirts and underwear rained down on her and acted as a slight cushion when the case flopped over her. It was the less painful option, but it didn't do anything for her dignity.
Struggling out from under the entire mess took a few seconds longer than she'd expected, it was as though the clothes and the suitcase were both actively trying to obstruct her given how they wrapped around her or slid in just the right way to throw her off balance again. In the end she was able to fight her way out and quickly made her way over to the cabin's door as she made sure that there weren't a pair of panties or the like clinging to her where she couldn't see them, she'd seen enough anime to know not to fall for that gag.
Alright, the boom had come from the far side of the cabin, so that meant that it came from the other side of the yacht. Passing by the stairs to the deck below Illya burst out onto the deck her hands already going to her head to ready some hair in case she needed to create one of her mystic codes immediately.
"Oh, there's another one Shirou"
"I see it!" There was a hissing rushing sound and a small splash, "Got it!"
The words registered in the young Einzbern's mind a split second before their tone did. That was why she was in the middle of materializing her puppet Berserker when she saw Shirou holding some sort of harpoon in one hand and a fish as long as his arm in the other. The sight of it, as well as the large and almost smug grin on his face, was so at odds with her expectations of the situation that she paused in mid-summon to get a better idea of what was going on.
The scene before her was not the one that she'd been expecting. As opposed to being engaged in pitched battle both had broad grins on their faces and were clearly in high spirits. As she watched Manaka reached down to the chain of charms she wore at her hip like a keychain, selected one of the charms and in a single movement threw it out into the sea.
Illya had just enough time to wonder what was going on before a second boom rang out and another tremor ran through the yacht. There was a brief moment as her brother and the witch fighter stared at the ocean's surface, then another swoosh as Shirou threw the harpoon once again. There was another splash and in a single movement the red haired God Slayer yanked back on the harpoon's line jerking the weapon, and the fish that it had impaled, through the air and onto the deck.
"I think that's enough!" he declared, looking down at the fish he held, the one on the deck and a third beside it. None of them were smaller than a foot in length and all of them looked like they had a lot of meat on them.
"Are you sure we shouldn't do just one more?" The almost childlike disappointment in the young bodyguard's voice was so at odds with her normally impersonal and slightly disdainful professionalism that for a moment Illya found herself wondering if this really was Manaka. Though never rude to her or Shirou there was always a sense that she never really cared about them, there was no sense of connection or camaraderie. The only one that she cared about was Kaida, all else was subordinate to her loyalty to the black haired Hime-Miko.
Now though, she seemed more . . . engaged, more invested in her interaction with Shirou. The Einzbern heir felt her eyes narrow slightly as she evaluated the scene before her, to be sure Manaka wasn't nearly as at ease as she was about Kaida. There was still a certain tension to her stance and a wariness in the way she looked at the world about her. But even so this was the most open that she'd seen the bodyguard acting.
Realizing that she'd allowed herself to be distracted Illya stepped up onto the deck and took a closer look about her. The smoke was rising from the other side of Shirou, but as things stood him and Manaka were blocking her view. There was also a table on the side, one laid out with some knives, a large chopping board and a number of herbs and spices.
"Hey Illya-chan, things aren't quite ready yet, but they will be soon."
"'Done'? What's going to be done? What are you doing?"
"Fishing." The answer came with an absolutely matter of fact tone as though that single word explained everything.
"But . . . what were all the explosions?" Illya was having a hard time understanding just what was going on. The Shirou before her was so at odds with his demeanour over the past weeks that it was almost jarring, that Manaka was also acting out of character was simply adding to the odd sensation of unreality.
"Well, I was having some trouble spotting any fish to spear but then I remembered a show I'd once seen when someone used dynamite to go fishing. The explosion makes a shockwave underwater that kills or knocks out the fish which then float to the surface."
Even as the white haired young girl simply stared at her adopted brother Manaka stepped forwards to put her oar into the current.
"Shirou-sama was going to use one of his swords to create the explosion, but I remembered the kind of detonation they were capable of from the battle with his fellow Kings. I suggested that perhaps my own spell charms would be more suited to bringing up some catches without completely depopulating the local area."
Shirou . . . had been planning to use Broken Phantasms as fishing aids? That strange sense of unreality was back, as though the world was off kilter and she was having trouble adjusting her own mental balance to compensate.
"I think it worked out better," her adopted brother commented as he laid one of the fish out on the chopping board that was on of the table top. "Manaka's much better at controlling the force of her explosions than I am."
The smile on the bodyguard's face spread into a full fledged grin as her hand dropped to her keychain once more without any conscious thought on her part. The next moment though she noticed her actions and her hand jerked away rather like a child who'd been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
Shaking herself to try to throw off the odd sense of surrealness that had had swept over her Illya tried to force herself back onto her original course. It looked as though the yacht wasn't under attack, which was a good thing. On the other hand she had no idea as to why Shirou had decided to take up fishing with explosives. In the end her frustrated bafflement was expressed in a single short sentence.
"Shirou . . . just what are you doing?"
"I'm preparing a barbecue."
"Huh?"
Out of all the answers that the Einzbern heir had thought she'd be getting that had not been one of them.
Stepping out of the way Shirou gestured to the barbecue that was built into the deck. Though she was no expert on ship construction Illya thought that the way it was built was quite clever; its curved frame set so that the chances of the burning charcoal within falling out were slim to nonexistent, and even if they did the whole deck was plated with metal, so there was nothing to burn.
And right now that barbecue was full of glowing red charcoal and white ash, the source of the smoke that she'd smelled earlier.
"There's a recipe I read once for simple fish steaks marinated in herbs and cooked on an open grill. It was really simple so I thought 'why not'? If I'm going to take it easy on this holiday I might as well start now."
As he spoke her adopted brother slapped the fish he was holding down on the cutting board and grabbed a kitchen knife.
That was it? He was just trying to get into the mood for the holiday?
Uuuuhhh, why did this have to all be so hard? Why couldn't understanding how Shirou was feeling and how to help him be easy? For a moment Illya almost found herself missing the old days when she'd been living with the Einzberns. Granted it might have been a torment of training, suffering and modification, but at the very least her life back then had been simple. She was going to take revenge upon her father's adopted son both in place of Kiritsugu and for the crime of stealing her father away from her, most likely in a painful and extremely bloody way, then she would fulfil her duty as the Lesser Grail Vessel by gaining the Holy Grail for the Einzbern family.
Then she would die.
Not the most pleasant of fates, but it had been all she had known, all that she'd been allowed to know. It had also had the virtue of simplicity to it, a minimum of complicated parts to confuse her. She loved her new life, she loved her anime, her manga, her games, her toys, her school friends, she most especially loved her brother, but it was all so complicated.
But it was worth it, there was no question of that.
So, that meant that she had to work out what to do now. Was she going to get mad about them scaring her and being reckless in the use of their magic? Or . . .
"How long until the first lot are ready?"
See if those lessons that her adopted brother had wheedled Asuka into giving him had improved his already good cooking.
-()-
Manaka gazed down at the rolling ocean as the yacht sailed on and felt a slight sadness that she'd only gotten to detonate three of her charms.
It was one of her better hidden secrets, but the fact was that she took an almost childish delight in blowing things up. Granted in her line of business she normally had ample opportunity to unleash her varied arsenal of combat spells when faced with an enemy, but that lacked a certain something. There was a definite pleasure to be had from simply making big booms when there wasn't any life or death combat about to distract you from the explosions themselves.
Honestly she was surprised that she'd been able to let go of her normal detachment and have a bit of fun, that really wasn't like her.
Come to think of it, it had been a while since she'd experienced the same sort of irritation and contempt that she'd so often felt for others before she met Kaida. With her ability to see the inner natures of those she looked upon through their Aura Signs it was always easy to see the flaws and weaknesses of others. Manaka did not consider herself to be a particularly arrogant person, but she knew she was good. She had potent magic and natural talent in its use, but she had never relied upon that talent to see her through, she had trained herself ferociously to hone her natural abilities to a razor edge. She had pushed herself until she'd coughed blood, studied until her eyes were shot with red. She was good, damned good, and she had earned it.
It was just too easy to see all those flaws and weaknesses in others, and to compare them to her own strengths. That had always been the root of her irritation and disdain of those she met, she would see their weakness, their lack of commitment or drive, and then she'd get angry that they couldn't find it in themselves to push as she did. Their half hearted efforts, their tendency to give up, it all added up to a recipe she held in contempt.
To be sure there were those that she respected despite the flaws that marred them. The head of the Kuhoutsuka clan, several of her instructors, and of course Kaida, all of them had shown themselves to be able to rise above their flaws and weaknesses through hard work or sheer stubbornness. They were the ones that she could respect, the ones she could work with. Swearing her service to the black haired Hime-Miko had been the best move she'd ever made. In one fell swoop she'd gained a friend she could respect, a charge she could be proud to protect and a part in the magnificent future that she'd spied in the Aura Sign flash she had witnessed.
And then the hurricane known as Emiya Shirou had swept into their lives.
Meeting him had been . . . beyond anything she'd ever experienced before. Granted she had once had a brief encounter with a Campione before, but that had been a brief spilt second before she had passed out. Standing before the eighth Devil King had been beyond anything she'd felt before.
In the weeks that followed her entering his service she'd remained wary of him, but in time her fear had given way to cautious respect. He had been a distant figure in those earlier days, like a mountain that overshadowed her life but remained far off. Then had come the whole incident with the Monkey King, Mordred and the Feast of Kings. A historic occasion marked by a gathering of Campione the likes of which had not been seen in recorded history and she had been there to witness it. It had been at around that time that her King had unbent towards her and her friend. She could understand how he had been distrustful of them, though she was still unsure as to why that had been, but no matter the reason their relationship had improved because of it.
Having her King's confidence had been an interesting experience. He'd become less of a far off figure and more as someone that she could interact with. Before too long she had been aiding Kaida in her lessons to both the Emiya heir and his adopted sister. That had been something of a surprise, given the superhuman capabilities of a Campione, such as their vast magic reserves and potent vitality; Manaka had anticipated a genius student.
After all he was an all ruling Devil King, a monarch that transcended humanity and entered the realms reserved only for the divine. With that in mind she had anticipated a 'student' who would not only learn everything that she had to offer but who would swiftly eclipse her as he grew in power.
Much to her surprise though King Shirou had turned out to be one of the worst pupils she'd ever had to educate. His work ethic was excellent and she had no complaints as to his ability to familiarize himself with the theory behind the lessons she tried to impart. The problem was that when it came to any sort of practical application the King of Steel had all the talent of a ripe kiwi fruit, which was to say none at all. He could cast the spells, though managing even that much was a chore and a half for him, but even when he did so the results were either lack lustre or flawed to the point of being near useless. By contrast Illya had been a near perfect student; one gifted in a way quite close to what she'd imagined would be the case for her adopted sibling. She soaked up knowledge like a sponge and was able to apply it with near surgical precision almost immediately afterwards.
What had really surprised her was how well Emiya Shirou had taken the revelation of his limitations. He'd simply nodded and returned to his research as though he'd been informed that a piece of furniture would be delivered late. Such forbearance had really been against her image of him. The same fearsome King that had threatened her and Kaida with a demonic snake spirit and undead warriors was about as far removed from the calm and accepting young man that she'd seen that day as one could get.
Although . . . now that she thought about it his lack of talent was hardly the crippling limitation for him that it would have been for others. With Rule of the Underworld it didn't really matter if he had no aptitude for certain forms of magic, or even all forms for that matter. The Committee was already providing him with the artefacts and remnants that he needed in order to summon the souls of mages as servants. Once he had a good enough selection at his disposal it wouldn't really matter if he was himself unable to use the spells he wanted, all he'd have to do was summon the soul of one that could and the spell would be cast regardless of his limitations.
That thought made her tilt her head in consideration. When looked at from a certain perspective Rule of the Underworld was one of the weaker Authorities that Shirou possessed, at least as far as combat ability was concerned. However when considered in terms of pure flexible utility the Authority gained from Hades was almost mind bogglingly useful. Hardly a surprise that Campione were regarded as they were, not when something like that could be considered a 'weak' Authority.
"Ah, Manaka."
The sound of her friend's voice brought the young witch fighter out of her thoughts and back to the present. Just coming out on deck was Kaida-sama. She still looked a little green about the gills and her gait was still a bit unsteady, but all in all she looked much better than the tortured moaning wreck she'd been shortly after their departure from the docks.
However the main change in her demeanour was the way that her eyes were zeroing in on the cooking fish like a shark that had scented blood in the water.
The brown haired bodyguard couldn't help but smile slightly at the thought. Her charge was a young woman of fine manners and excellent work ethic; she was an earnest and forthright individual that drew much admiration and respect. Given all that it had come as something of a surprise to her that Kaida-sama's one weakness was fish dishes. In the presence of a well cooked dish she tended to abandon decorum and gravitate towards it in much the same way a rogue planet would be drawn in by a nearby sun.
Glancing over at the barbecue with the sizzling cuts of fish on it brought her attention back to the young King that had been occupying her thoughts not a moment before.
The King of Steel was standing before the burning charcoal with one hand holding a large fish slice while the other had a pair of cooking tongs. As if that wasn't a discordant enough image he was also wearing the apron that Illya-chan had gleefully given him as a gift. Now the god slaying Devil King wore the covering and sported the legend; 'Not a cook, the cook!' in bold printing across the front.
This was the seemingly unstoppable warrior that had faced two of his kind in open combat and defeated them handily? The mage that had rewritten the world with his magic in a way that had previously been thought to be only possible through the use of divine Authority? It was still not quite fitting into her head. Earlier, when King Shirou had first acted unusually . . . casual, she had found herself caught up in the general thrill of setting off some of her charms. But even then she had been unable to quite get why he was acting so differently from normal.
She just didn't get it, that was the simple truth. She was aware that since the Battle of the Three Kings there had been something going on with her liege, that he'd been moody and irritable. But how that had led to his current state she just wasn't able to understand. Manaka was sure that with some time to observe and analyse him she'd be able to work it out, but for the time being she was foxed.
Well, she could live with that, at least for the time being.
"Alright, the first lot are ready!"
The witch fighter turned as soon as she heard the declaration from her King, but even so she wasn't fast enough to keep up with her friend. There was only a blur to indicate that Kaida had moved, then the Hime-Miko was right there in front of Shirou with a plate ready in her hands. He looked momentarily surprised, but recovered quickly and placed a beautifully cooked fish steak onto her plate as well as some barbecued vegetables.
For her part Kaida simply stood there for a moment gazing down at the food ready for her. It might have been a trick of the light, but for a moment Manaka could have sworn that she saw a thin line of drool running down the side of her chin. But that was ridiculous; her Kaida-sama would never have been so uncouth.
Mind you, that fish did smell damned good. She had no idea what had been in that sauce that he'd marinated the steaks in, but it smelt like it had worked pretty good.
Deciding to shelve any thoughts about her King's unusual behaviour for now Manaka grabbed up a plate of her own and made her way over to get her own portion before they were all taken.
-()-
The barbecue had been a splendid idea, Shirou decided.
It had been just the right thing to set the mood for the start of this holiday, Illya, Manaka, Kaida and several of the crew provided by the Committee had joined in quite readily. It had become something of a small party as people had taken their food and then lounged about in the sun as they ate the freshly cooked meat.
Oddly enough neither Guinevere nor Tiamat had joined them. The queen of the Divine Ancestors had remained in her room and the goddess of salt water had been nowhere to be found. Now it was late in the afternoon and everyone else had either gone off to fulfil their duties or to laze about as their meal digested. Illya was currently snoozing in the lounge while Kaida and Manaka had moved to one of the lower decks to find a slightly shady spot in which to enjoy the weather. Even Yusuke had retreated to his room after having consumed three separate portions of the fish his King had cooked and commented on feeling the need to sleep them off.
For his part Shirou had been left with the task of clearing up, but he had no trouble with that. As things stood he was simply happy that he'd had the chance to cook and to serve up his food to others. It was a simple pleasure that had been denied to him due to Asuka's rigid sense of propriety. To his way of thinking everything had gone well, he'd served everyone plenty of food, he'd used up all his ingredients and nothing had gone to waste, everyone had been happy and he'd enjoyed being the chef.
All in all a full win as far as he was concerned.
"I see that you have been partaking of the bounty that the sea has to offer King Shirou."
The effortlessly sensual and throaty voice came from off to the side and almost made the King of Steel jump in surprise. Why was it that all of these supernatural types were able to so effortlessly sneak up on him? Archer had been well trained in being aware of his surrounding; enough that he'd made his way through several major conflicts and survived a number of assassination attempts. While not his equal Shirou had inherited some of his skills in the department when he'd assimilated the Servant's arm fully into himself. And yet still people kept on surprising him.
Illya he could explain, at least to some degree. She was the person in this world that he trusted the most, consequently he wasn't nearly as guarded with her as he was with others, which meant that she was essentially a blind spot. But both Guinevere and Tiamat had managed it, and so had Athena and Luo Hao now that he thought about it. Granted none of them had been trying to conduct an assassination attempt, but even so they had slipped past his awareness too easily.
Well, they all were powerful supernatural existences in their own right; maybe they all shared some sort of presence concealment ability or something similar. That might be something to worry about in the future, for now he had other concerns.
All of that went through Shirou's mind in the space of a second or two, just about all the time it took for him to turn and look at the source of the voice.
Tiamat was standing straight; one had resting on the decks rail as she gazed out at the ocean. The shawl normally about her shoulders was now about her waist and hanging from her arms. Beneath it she wore a blood red sari like garment with an ocean blue trim. The combination of colours complimented her long mane of hair even as the cut of the garment revealed the flawless skin of her bare arms and uncovered midriff. Upon any mortal woman such a garb would have heated the blood of any man. As it was now, being worn by a literal goddess, he doubted she could have walked down a street without acquiring a following of willing worshippers.
Idly Shirou compared Tiamat to the other women that held special places in his heart. Saber, Rider, Rin . . . Sakura. If he was to be truly honest in terms of sheer beauty the Mother of Dragons eclipsed them all save for the former Medusa. However while the Servant of the Mount had possessed an almost . . . serpentine beauty to her Tiamat's was more like the ocean to which she was linked. It was an inhuman splendour that hinted at something far vaster than what could be seen on the surface, something gorgeous and magnificent, yet terrible and divorced from humanity.
She came towards him, her smoke stained clothing discarded piece by piece as she advanced, each falling item revealing more of her perfection to-
Again there was a flash of . . . something. His thoughts scattered and the irritation that had dogged him for the past weeks swelled up in the young Campione once more. Damn it, why was he feeling this way again? Today had been a good day, he was rested, he had enjoyed himself, he had done what he liked, so why was the sensation of dissatisfaction and sullen anger gnawing at him once more?
"It still dogs you, does it not?"
A frown touched Shirou's brow as he looked over at the fallen divinity once more. Was he really so transparent? He'd been doing his best not to let his turbulent emotions show on his face, but it seemed like he hadn't been as successful as he'd hoped.
"What do you mean?"
He asked it more as a stopgap measure than anything else. He wasn't too interested in what his guest thought might be the root of his ill humour of late. No, that wasn't quite true, he was curious, he simply didn't think that whatever she might have to say would prove to be all that relevant. It was frustrating as hell, like he should know what had happened to him to make him feel this way, but the exact recollection was just a tiny bit beyond his reach. It was just so-
"The crime that was committed against you, the crime your mind cannot remember but which your heart can still recall."
For an instant the King of Steel felt as though the blood in his veins had been replaced with frozen water.
What had she said?
What had she said?!
She knew, somehow she knew just what it was, just what escaped his conscious thoughts every time he tried to pin it down. She KNEW!
But the question was; just what was it that she knew?
-()-
Tiamat was a goddess, no matter how reduced she might be she still was a being that had faced the father of skies and who had once held the tablets of destiny. She was a primordial being that had witness the birth of the world and faced the wrath of gods. Yet despite all that she still felt her heart stutter in her chest as she felt the pressure of her host's gaze fall upon her. There was weight to that gaze, not anger or violence, but a dreadful potential for both that weighed as heavy as a mountain.
This was a gamble, a very big one. A gamble that could well lead to her ruin if she wasn't careful.
She knew what it was that plagued the young Emiya; it hadn't been hard to work out, not after watching him carefully for a few days. His sudden surges of irritation or suppressed anger seemed to always coincide with displays of affection or closeness to females. She was also aware of just what Venus had planned for him, though she had never seen it take place.
The problem was that though she could share that information with him it would also reveal that, for a time at least, she had been the ally of the goddess that had usurped his heart and mind. Indeed, she had been the one that had originally set the goddess of love on the track she had used to ensnare the red haired King. To be sure Venus had already been planning to hunt him, that had been her entire reason for descending to the mortal plane after all, so she would have come after him regardless. But even so it didn't change the fact that Tiamat was at least in part responsible for what had been done to him.
If he learned that, and if he blamed her, then their alliance would vanish like ice in the desert. Both of them had sworn oaths, so it was unlikely that she would simply be cast out of his home, but even if that was the case then any good will between them would be lost. She might retain her security, but any chance of growing closer to King Shirou would be lost.
And even if he placed no blame upon her there was the question of how he'd deal with what he'd learn. To find you had been . . . used in such a manner, and in such a way. The way that Venus had violated his heart was a painful enough thing on its own, but to learn that she had used that control to violate his body as well was another level of pain to be endured. Some men, shallow and lustful, might not have had any problem with a beauty as transcendent as the Roman goddess of love using them in such a way, indeed they might even have derived some pleasure from it. But Shirou was by no means like them. She had seen first hand how absolute his dedication was to this 'Sakura' that held his heart.
He was strong, but she had seen . . . cracks showing in the last few weeks. What Venus had visited upon him had left tiny wounds, even if he could not consciously remember what had been done. If she were to tell him the truth would those cracks heal or would they grow until he broke? The anger that had dwelt within him had been a banked and sullen thing, something that he had held in control despite the way it had eaten away at his mood. Would learning of his violation change that though, if he learnt of the crime that had been visited upon him would his rage flare into an inferno?
She had seen him slay Mordred through his inhuman determination. She had watched him defeat his fellow Kings with his power. Both had been spectacles that matched the deeds of any hero from legend, so what then might his rage be like?
She had a distinct suspicion that would involve such words as 'cataclysmic' or 'apocalyptic' might be applicable should the King of Steel give in to anger.
Still, this was a gamble she had to take; those same cracks and wounds in his psyche were a weakness that could be exploited by an enemy or could in time leave him broken. The problem was that she had to be very careful in just how she revealed to him what had happened.
'Just so you know, Venus raped you while she had you under her control. Repeatedly. Over the course of several hours. I think there might have been the use of a stick of butter involved in there somewhere.'
The thought of such a blunt and irreverent answer danced in Tiamat's mind for a moment. That was a fairly accurate example of the worst possible answer she could give. In fact if she wanted to provoke a response that might well lead to the immediate destruction of the vessel they were on, that would be it.
No, she had to tell him something, but to simply state the facts of the matter in a single go would probably be more damaging than helpful. She needed to say something that would give him a starting point to work from, a warning that would let him prepare himself for what was to come.
Very well, here she went.
"As you know for a short time I was a . . . distant ally to Venus."
A good start, not a lie, but it did downplay her connection to the Roman goddess. In fact it was pretty close to the truth, Venus' uncaring attitude and unrepentantly lustful behaviour had curtailed any chance of a close working relationship between them. Venus had been disdainful of the Divine Ancestor for her fallen status and Tiamat had been of no mind to try to change that. She had been willing to play her part of the plan and that had been all that she cared about.
"I am aware that when she had you under her control she brought you back to the hidden temple that we were all using as a base of operations."
A base that she and Brynhildr had built with their magic. A place that the goddess of love had used as her home for nearly three weeks before the plan had gone through.
"I don't claim to know all of what was done to you . . ."
Technically true, while she had a general knowledge of just what Venus had done with her thrall she didn't know, or have any desire to know, the exact specifics of the carnal acts she had engaged in with the enthralled King of Steel.
". . . but I have a general knowledge, and I know that you were not treated kindly."
Again that was a technical truth, but one that left out details that could be revealed later.
"I suspect that though your mind does not recall what was visited upon you your heart does and that is the cause of the black moods that have been taking you in the past days."
Silence descended on the deck as King Shirou gazed at her with those almost golden eyes of his. There was no hostility or aggression in them, which was definitely a good sign, but they still weighed down on her.
"Why are you telling me this?"
His voice was also calm, of course that could just mean that he was about to explode on her, but Tiamat thought that to be an unlikely possibility. He seemed to be more . . . thoughtful than anything else. It was so far from what the fallen goddess had been expecting that it was almost unnerving. His choice of first question was also a surprise; she'd been prepared for demands of an immediate and complete revelation of all she knew. She had expected impatience or even desperation to know the full truth of the matter.
Instead the first thing he asked about was her motivation in this.
"I . . . I am now your ally. The alliance between us secures my safety while I am weak, but such a pact is not merely one way. I have seen how the wounds left on your heart are hurting you, as an ally it is my duty to aid you just as it would be yours to protect me."
It was the truth, not the whole truth, but no part of it was a lie. She'd simply left out the fact that part of her motivation to help him was that she wanted to get closer to him, and that another part of it was guilt at having provided aid, however slight, to Venus in her actions against him.
"You know more than what you're saying now, but you're holding it back."
It was a statement rather than a question, a declaration of facts rather than a query. In the face of it Tiamat found herself struggling ever so slightly to hold on to her composure. She hadn't expected for her vagueness to be seen through so quickly. She hadn't intended to hide it; indeed it had been her plan to flat out state that she was holding some details back for the time being, but for him to pick up on it so quickly was both unexpected and unsettling.
"I do not think that you should yet know all the details." The Mother of Dragons stated carefully, "To learn too much at once could be . . . more harmful than helpful. If you would trust me, I think it would be best if you mull over what I have already told you for some short time before you ask me for the rest."
As she spoke Tiamat lowered her eyes to the deck in a gesture of submission. This was the delicate part, seeing whether or not he'd agree to her proposal or demand she reveal all now.
But even as she did so though a part of her buried deep within seethed at the indignity of what she was being forced to endure. She was a goddess, a being of power that mankind had once worshipped and feared, she had brought forth monsters and disasters at her whim or bestowed her blessings and mercy. Now here she was, reduced to accepting the authority of a god slayer due to her weakness.
Her thoughts drifted to the brief period in which she had possessed her full power, to that brief time of glory before she had been betrayed. What would she do if she had that power again? Would she challenge King Shirou, seek to defeat and destroy him? No, though they hadn't had much interaction Tiamat didn't think that she would derive any sort of satisfaction from his death, quite the opposite in fact. Despite being in a position of power the young King of Steel had not abused it and had treated her with both a kindness and a respect she would not have expected from a child of Pandora.
Dismissing her wandering thoughts she raised her eyes once more and looked at the King whose reaction she awaited.
For his part Emiya Shirou's expression remained the same thoughtful one that she had seen earlier. There was no anger in his posture and his hands were occupied with carefully stacking the dirty plate that had been left behind. Quite frankly his strange calm was more unnerving than any flare up of temper could have been.
"You will tell me the rest soon?"
The question's tone matched his demeanour, calm to the point of almost being flat. Wordlessly Tiamat simply nodded.
"Then I can wait."
Tiamat blinked, her mind suddenly grinding to a halt as she tried to process what she had just heard. That . . . that made no sense, he was going to wait? Just like that? She had been preparing all kinds of reasons, justifications and arguments to bring her host round to her point of view. She'd spent literally hours over the last few days preparing herself to be able to meet and defuse any objection or demand he might have.
She'd been ready to put up a fight, to endure his anger at feeling manipulated or betrayed. The simple fact was that she was in great part doing this for his benefit, she might be gaining something from it, but she was doing it do help him overcome the wounds that Venus had left upon him.
She didn't want to see him scarred, not by something that was in some small part her fault.
So she had been ready to stand firm, to face him whatever his reaction might be. Anger, disappointment, vitriol, she'd girded herself for them all, and what had he shown her? Calm acceptance.
Why did she even bother? For all that he seemed to be a King that ruled over his subjects with an orderly and just reign the truth was that she'd never been able to predict him. She'd thought he'd let her die and he saved her. She thought he'd slay her when she was weak and he instead offered her encouragement. She'd expected him to bargain with her when she sought his protection and instead he had simply asked for her to be a gracious guest.
Both chaos and order seemed to serve her host in equal measures it would seem.
"I . . . no-I mean . . ."
She was stuttering like some virgin maiden whose tongue had been tied by her words. Taking a deep breath the Mother of Dragons took hold of her emotions and once more forced them beneath her rein.
"My thanks for both your understanding and your trust King Shirou." She stated as she inclined her head in gratitude.
There was so much more that she wished to say, justifications and explanations for why she was doing this. However she held her tongue and maintained her silence. She was a goddess, she would not let herself fall so low as to bleat excuses for her actions like some lowly servant. Her reasons were her own and while she was a guest her host should know that they would not serve to harm him.
Still, the trust that he was extending to her in this matter was . . . touching, heartening even. That he was willing to have the faith in her to wait for her revelation made her heart beat that much harder in her chest.
It was good to know that he was intelligent enough to recognize one working in his best interests. Too many of those who held power had been convinced that they always knew best. To see that King Shirou did not fall into the same trap made her feel that much more confident in her decision to have him as her future l-
Tiamat cut that thought of with the mental equivalent of a double headed axe before it could finish.
No, she would not allow such thoughts to distract and confuse her. To be certain King Shirou was a fine young man who possessed both power and kindness. It was also true that he was an intelligent and dedicated individual that she could admire and that he was not drowning in the privileges his ranks bestowed. Also he was a good looking example of a man, one in fine shape if the few occasions she'd seen him take off his shirt during his training were anything to go by. And he had some considerable prowess as a lover, enough that he had kept Venus 'entertained' for several hours, and been quite successful at it if the volume of her cries had been anything to go by.
. . . Wait, what had been the point of her thoughts on the King of Steel again?
Realizing what had just happened Tiamat felt the blood trying to rush to her face as embarrassment swept over her. Perhaps it would be best if she simply took her blessings where she could and retreated for now.
"I-I think I shall go and see what manner of cabin your sister has prepared for me."
She admitted to herself that as excuses went that was a pretty weak one, but for the moment it was the best she could come up with. Drawing her shawl up about her shoulders she started to turn, only to be halted as the eighth Campione raised a hand and gently laid a fingertip upon her arm where the shawl covered her skin.
There wasn't any aggressiveness to the move. Indeed the action was so feather light that had she not seen it Tiamat might well not have noticed it. This was an action meant only to give her pause, and it was offered in such a way that it was clear he was doing his best to avoid offering any possible insult. For a moment the fallen goddess just blinked down at the light touch, held in place as effectively as if by the strongest of binding Authorities, then she looked up at her host.
His eyes . . . there were no words; it was as though for the briefest fraction of an instant he was looking not at her but through her. As though her very soul had been stripped bare of all protection and had been laid out for his observation and convenience. She could have stood before him whilst he was wearing his strongest armour and bearing his mightiest weapons while she was naked and unarmed, and she would have felt less vulnerable than she did in that instant.
"Thank you."
That was all he said, but with his short message delivered his hand fell away from her arm and he turned back to clearing the mess that had been left behind, yet it was enough to break the strange spell that the moment had cast upon her.
It was good that he was not looking at her, because if he had then Tiamat might well have dived overboard in order to hide the flush that she felt roll over her features. He had seen her, not merely her features and expression but something deeper, something more intimate.
Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour Tiamat headed to her cabin and hoped that none would see her as she went there.
-()-
Shirou kept his attention fixed on the plates before him even as he heard the fallen goddess make her way down to her cabin. With meticulous care he stacked the plates then loaded the cutlery onto them in a single ordered heap. He gave the task extra attention, centring all his focus upon it.
That helped, somewhat. It kept him from giving into the urge to chase after Tiamat, seize her by the shoulders and shake her until she told him all she knew. And that urge was a strong one, no doubt of that.
She knew, of that he was quite sure. She knew about-
-Lips so red they might as well have been coloured with fresh blood curved into a savage smile as her hand trailed down his chest, her nails leaving the faintest of impressions as they-
-what had happened to him.
It would have been so easy to force the information from her. He would not even have to resort to violence, he had several weapons and artefacts in his Reality Marble that could compel her to talk. She might have her power as a goddess, but it was a weak and wounded thing, nothing compared to the might she'd wielded in her complete state. His own resources, backed by his power as a Campione, would have been more than sufficient to overcome any resistance she might have if he'd needed to.
But . . . something had made him hesitate; the same instincts that had served him well in battle had stayed his hand.
When he'd first heard her start to talk about what had happened while he was under Venus' thrall he'd felt as though his heart had suddenly seized up in his chest. It had taken all his willpower not to let his shock show on his features and instead maintain his expression of calm. The irony of the situation would have almost been humorous in other circumstances. Not even a few hours ago he'd been resolving to forego his mask as the False King whilst on this holiday and yet here he was, hiding behind it once more as soon as something unexpected happened.
It had been a struggle, but he'd managed to maintain his mask until Tiamat had explained what she could as well as her reasons for holding some of the information back. He didn't like it, in fact some part of him was seething against the idea of being denied for even a short time, but despite that he told her that he could wait.
It had been hard to say; hard not to roar at her to tell him everything now, but a number of realizations had driven him to the decision.
On the simplest level raising his hand against her in that way, no matter how restrained he might be, would be a violation of the pact into which he had entered with her. To be sure he was relatively certain that he could endure any punishment the pact inflicted upon him, but that wasn't something he was willing to face casually. Both his own power and Tiamat's had gone into forming that pact, so he doubted that it would exact a minor price should he break it.
That had made him pause, but it had not been the deciding factor. What had made him hold back was the thought that had followed after that realization. The same pact that made him hesitate also bound her, as long as she was his guest she could not take action to his detriment without bringing the power of that oath down on her head. But the pact was still intact and she had not abandoned her status as a guest in his household yet, that meant that whatever her reasons for holding back the information she possessed it was not to his detriment.
So, she wasn't aiming to do anything that could harm him by holding back, then that must mean that . . . what? She was working in his best interests?
In the end what reasonable choice was there but to trust her, to wait until she was ready to tell him the rest?
Even as he said that he would wait he found himself wondering at the control he was showing over his initial impulses. Back during the Holy Grail War he'd often gone with his initial inclinations without a thought to consequences. That had been what had nearly gotten him killed by Berserker on the first night, it had been what had gotten Saber consumed by Sakura's shadow form. He'd learnt to curb it to some degree, but he was never very good at it.
Now he was though. Indeed, ever since getting to this world he'd been increasingly able to control and hide his emotions and impulses.
Almost involuntarily he glanced down at his left arm. Was that the source of his change? Was this part of the legacy he'd inherited from his other selves?
It made some sense. Archer had been quite skilled at hiding his feelings and intentions until he was good and ready. In one world he'd been able to fool and manipulate even Rin, and given how sharp the young Tohsaka was under almost any circumstances that was a noteworthy achievement.
His attention was brought back to Tiamat as she spoke to him once more.
"I-I think I shall go and see what manner of cabin your sister has prepared for me."
His response to her words was purely instinctual, he just reached out to stop her from leaving, not while he was still conflicted as to how he should feel or even think of this. It took all of his self control to stop from seizing her arm; instead he turned the gesture into a light touch on her shawl covered forearm.
For a moment the face that she turned on him robbed him of the power of speech. It wasn't anything so . . . unworldly as her divine beauty or the strength of her presence, quite the opposite in fact. Tiamat had always carried herself with a certain dignity, no, that wasn't quite right. Regality, yes, that was a better word for it. Even when she'd been face down in the mud with the major part of her power stripped from her after her ally's betrayal, she had still stubbornly hung onto some shred of her royal bearing.
Now though that had been lost. No, not lost, it had been shed. For that moment, for that instant he was seeing Tiamat shorn of all poise and bearing, this was the real her in a way that he doubted he'd ever see again.
Why she had shown that side of her for even a brief instant he was not sure, but it was something important, a vulnerability that she should have guarded like her life. And yet he had seen it.
"Thank you."
He honestly wasn't sure if he was thanking her for her actions or for what she had shown him, however unintentional it might have been. He did feel a certain relief though, that glimpse, it had not been of a schemer or a manipulator, it had been of a young woman that was only one step ahead of making it all up as she went along.
Well, either that or she was the single most convincing actress that either he or Archer had ever seen. And if she was that artful in deception . . . well, he might as well give up right now, because if she was that good then he really didn't stand a chance.
He dismissed the thought from his mind as she left, her movements ever so slightly faster than they needed to be. Perhaps she was feeling vulnerable after he had caught that fleeting glimpse of her hidden self.
Almost plaintively he wondered how things had gone wrong so fast. This was meant to be a holiday, a chance to get away from all this worrying and planning. Then this went and just dropped into his lap.
Proof positive that the world had a sense of humour and that it was a twisted one.
Maybe things would get simpler once they all reached the island. Yes, that was something to look forwards to; when he'd been younger Shirou had sometimes dreamt of going up into the local mountains to do some camping, just like Fuji-nee had told him she'd done when she was younger. He'd been too young to go on his own and his adopted father had been too weakened by his condition to take him. Fuji-nee had offered a couple of times, but her own father had vetoed the suggestion, commenting darkly under his breath about his daughter and poisonous mushrooms as he walked off. After Kiritsugu had passed on it had been one of the things Shirou had forgotten about as he'd worked to try to fulfil his adopted father's dream of being a hero.
Well, now he was old enough to give it a go. According to what Illya had told him, in between bites of her second fish steak, the weather for the next few days was going to be pretty much perfect., ideal for a night out under the stars or something like that.
Yes, things ought to improve as soon as he made it to the island.
-()-
"Twould seem that the King you sought to battle has decided to take leave of his home for the time being."
There was no mockery or insult in the voice of the goddess, only mild amusement at the predicament her ally found himself in.
"That might be my lady, but the trail of my quarry is still fresh in the air. The power we seek to take from him trails behind him as bright as any signal fire. Following him will prove to be no great feat. Indeed this works to our advantage, his journey takes him away from this city and away from the territory he shares with the other King of this land."
The pair of deities stood before the manor that was the home to the child of Pandora that they hunted. Both their forms were concealed beneath potent spells that Circe had cast upon them, obscuring them from the strange magics that permeated the city and which would otherwise have detected them. She had been impressed with them though, so much so that she'd even commented that whoever had cast the spells was one that she would have liked to meet were they not already engaged in a plan.
"So, we are to pursue then?"
"Indeed, their course takes them out to sea from what I can tell. We shall have little trouble in following them there, not when we shall be riding upon my ship."
No further words were exchanged as the pair of Heretic Gods faded from view as they began their pursuit.
-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-
Here's the Noble Phantasm Shirou used to go fishing with, just in case anyone was curious.
Legacy of Ahab: Spear of Retribution
Type – Anti-Unit Rank – D - A Range – 3-50 No of Targets – 1
Once there was a whaler that lost his leg to a Sperm Whale with white skin. Incensed at the injury dealt him the whaler pursued the beast relentlessly in an attempt to gain his vengeance. However the whale he sought to slay was no mere beast, but a being that had obtained a tiny fraction of Gaea's essence, her way of fighting back against the continual hunting of the whales by the men of the time. Though not on the level of a true Phantasmal Beast the whale possessed uncanny ferocity, cunning and endurance, enough to be able to attack and sink whaling ships.
Though unaware of this the whaler was relentless in his pursuit, continuing on even when seeing the wreckage left in the creature's wake. Eventually he ran his quarry down and engaged it with his crew, on the first attempt a boat was lost and the crew scattered. The next day a second attempt was made but all three boats launched were lost and the whaler lost his prosthetic leg of whale ivory as well. In defiance of rationality and against the protests of his crew the whaler persisted and launched a third attack on the third day. This time the entire ship was lost, the crew almost all dead and the whaler dragged into the depths still locked in combat with the whale.
The lone survivor of the crew was picked up by another whaling ship and his account of the events later inspired the famed book. The whale itself died of the injuries inflicted upon it during its last battle with its nemesis and the body was found by another whaling ship, the last harpoon of the dead whaler still lodged in its body. The weapon was taken as a sort of talisman and was eventually named after the fictional character that made its tale famous.
As a weapon under normal circumstances the Legacy of Ahab is a lacklustre Noble Phantasm, however its strength lies in the fact that its rank and power increase each time a condition is met. The conditions are that the target or enemy are sworn opponents to the wielder. That the enemy or target has some marine or ocean-going aspect. And that the enemy or target possesses a 'legendary' quality. The power gained by meeting these requirements is stackable, meaning that should this Noble Phantasm be employed against one that covers all three its rank will rise to 'A' level.
In addition the Legacy of Ahab possesses a number of minor abilities such as increased accuracy when used as a thrown projectile against a target in water or endowing increased surety of footing on a moving deck. However these enhancements are relatively minor in nature and as such are of little use against a Servant.
When activated this Noble Phantasm will gain power proportionate to its rank and expel it all in a single blast as soon as it makes contact with another object. Given its nature as a harpoon the Legacy of Ahab is a weapon suited for both being thrown and for stabbing at point blank range. At minimum power the blast delivered is still sufficient to deal considerable damage to an unarmoured or unprotected foe; at full power it can deal lethal damage even to those with A rank Endurance. After this power has been used the Noble Phantasm will require a 'cool down' period of at least three minutes before it can be used again, going against this rule risks breaking it.
Omake: The Harem WILL Be Fed!
The members of the leading families of the History Compilation Committee took their seats and faced the agent that stood before them. The atmosphere in the room was tense, but that was only to be expected. They all knew what this meeting was about, they all knew what they feared was coming.
"Akito, if you would be so kind."
The young man standing nervously before the assembled members fidgeted slightly as he felt their attention fall upon him. He hadn't been the first choice for this assignment, or the second choice, or the third, or the . . . Well, suffice to say that he had been fairly far down on the list for this job. Sadly given how recent events had proceeded he'd gained his position by dint of being the only one to still be in full working condition at this point.
"Ummm . . . this, this is the data we've b-been able to gather about . . . umm, Emiya Shinto, I mean Emiya Shirou."
The poor man was now visibly sweating from the stress of having the most important people in the organization that ran his life set squarely upon him, but despite that he soldiered on.
"W-We know that he turned up in Naples about a week ago and that he somehow managed to kill a god that was wrecking havoc at the time. The thing is that before that there's no trace of him, we've been trying to find out all that we can but it's as though he appeared out of thin air. Our agent who was on scene at the time went missing shortly thereafter."
He paused for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing.
"After his defeat of the unknown god he was last seen fleeing the city in the company of three females, a young girl, a young woman bearing a resemblance to our missing agent and a young woman in rags covered in tattoos. It was at first assumed that the tattooed woman was some sort of servant, but this changed when the hero god Perseus arrived to confront them. He identified her as Angra Mainyu and engaged her in combat.
"The exact details of the battle that took place are unavailable to us, but it would seem that Emiya Shirou somehow defeated him and shortly thereafter was seen in the company of a third young lady who bore a strong resemblance to Perseus and insisted on being called by the same name. Not long after this report arrived the agent that sent it in went missing as well, though we have since heard from her again, but we'll get to that later.
"About three days later the group was attacked by the Heretic God Hades and another of our agents was close enough to witness the fight and send a constant update to us of what was going on.
"Apparently Hades identified two of the women that follow Emiya Shirou as copies or fragments of other gods that are now enslaved to the newest Campione. He apparently took this as a grave insult to all gods and attempted to kill Emiya-sama.
"The battle was a protracted affair, but it has been determined that both the gods that serve him have retained their Authorities, though they seem to be diminished in scope. In the end a joint attack by Perseus and Angra Mainyu succeeded in creating an opening which allowed their master to take Hades' head. Before she went out of contact our agent reported that she saw a new woman appearing, one that bore a striking resemblance to the defeated Hades.
"Since then we have found that the group has begun to make their way east towards Japan, according to the last information we received Hades has been supplying King Shirou with gold and gemstones which he has traded to gain money. Apparently he has been trying to buy tickets for a flight to Japan, but has been hindered by the fact that he has no official documents for himself or any of his companions."
Akito paused and took a look about himself at his audience. The elders of his clan and the various others were all gazing at him. These were people whose decisions had influenced the course of history, and they were all looking at him.
For a brief moment he feared he might pass out.
"So we can be certain that the eighth Campione is making his way to Japan?"
Ironically rather than scaring him more the question gave him something to focus on, something with which to ground himself enough to force the fear back.
"Y-Yes, that does seem to be his goal."
"And what of the agents that went missing, you implied that they have contacted us since."
Ah, this had been the question that he'd not been looking forward to.
"They . . . they called in to tender their resignations. Apparently they felt that they could not continue to be members of the History Compilation Committee while also being part of the new organization they joined."
"And what organization would that be?"
The question was asked by one of the old matriarchs, a lady of advancing years who none the less looked perfectly capable of chewing through a metal girder and spitting out nails if she was so inclined.
"Errr . . . that would be the 'We love Shirou' branch of the Emiya Shirou Fan Club."
Even as he said it Akito couldn't help but wince slightly at the sheer absurdity of what he was saying. These had been hardened veterans that had served the Committee for years and who had been steadfast in their duties. The notion that they would simply abandon those duties and join what sounded to be an organization normally put together by otaku high school students was ridiculous.
And yet it had happened.
"And why has Katsuhito joined in this foolishness?"
"Ummm . . . in . . .errr . . . 'his' last communication we were informed that he'd changed 'his' name to Nanami and she was now taking bridal classes so she could one day become a bride."
Dead silence filled the entire conference room as all eyes stared at him.
"I-I . . . ah, I mean . . . it-it would seem that Katsuhito ran afoul of Emiya-sama's Authority before he fully learnt to control it. He followed him in the hopes of learning some way to reverse the change, but in his last report he stated he'd 'awakened to the joys of maidenhood' and was going to 'follow his King to the end'."
The silence now had an uncomfortable quality to it, not fear or outrage but rather . . . embarrassed disbelief? Akito could understand why, Katsuhito had been one of those 'alpha males' that constantly asserted their masculinity by shameless flirting and conquest. He'd left a wide swathe of broken hearts behind him but had none the less never had trouble finding further female company. His reputation was such that several temples had forbidden him entry for fear of their Miko-Hime losing their 'maiden' status.
The thought of him apparently being a maiden and undergoing bridal training simply failed to compute in most of their heads.
"So, to put things in simple terms we have a Devil King heading to our shores who has no less than three gods, however diminished, at his command as well as a number of our own agents forming a fan club for him and joining his ever expanding entourage. Not only that, he is also powerful enough to be able to deal the final blow to a powerful god like Hades on his own, needing his servants only to create an opening. And we have no idea as to his origins, his history, his motives or his plans for when he reaches our shores."
The voice of the Matriarch of the Seishuuin clan broke the silence as she summed up the situation that they were facing with brutal simplicity.
It was not a pretty picture that her summations painted; indeed it was a bleak one. With his ability to essentially enslave the gods he defeated this Emiya Shirou was able to grow in power at a rate that was unprecedented in Campione. Normally when a Devil King slew a Heretic God they would gain one Authority from the victory. Sometimes there were exceptions to this rule, such as John Pluto Smith's Metamorphosis or Kusanagi Godou's Persian Warlord, but those generally came with conditions or restrictions upon their use.
By making the gods he defeated his servants, in addition to gaining an Authority when he defeated them, this Emiya Shirou gained control over every single Authority they had, though admittedly on a reduced level. Heretic Gods could have any number of Authorities depending on their legends and history, ranging from just two or three to dozens. And each time another god fell to him the new Campione gained all of those Authorities.
They could well be looking at the birth of the strongest Devil King in history here. Depending on how events progressed I the future Japan might well become the territory of a walking apocalypse.
"So . . . what should we do?"
The question was querulously asked by one of the more junior members of the council.
"What do we do? What can we do? The answer is nothing, nothing save wait and see!"
There was definite bitterness in the Seishuuin Family's representative was clear for all to hear.
"What do you mean? Surely we can try to reason with this new King, offer him our allegiance, offer him servants or riches, anything to curb his wrath. Failing that we can always contact Kusanagi-sama, warn him of the approaching danger. He has battled Heretic Gods and other Campione before, could he not aid us here?"
"We can offer him nothing that he cannot gain himself with ease. Wealth? He has access to the limitless wealth of Hades! Servants? He already has an entourage of some of our best! Women? He has goddesses serving him with impassioned eagerness!
"As for asking Kusanagi-sama to move on our behalf, that should be a move of last resort. We were immensely fortunate that the destruction of Tokyo Tower was all we had to deal with after his battle with Marquis Voban. Had things turned out differently then the entire city could have been lost to a sea of flames.
"No, we shall have to play the waiting game and see how things progress. If we are fortunate then Emiya Shirou will prove to be a reasonable King whom we can serve in some periphery manner. If we are unfortunate then we will lend all our support to Kusanagi Godou and hope that he is victorious and that the islands of Japan still exist once the battle ends."
There were general sounds of agreement, but for the most part nobody had anything else to say. As things stood this was really the only option open to them that had a reasonable level of security. Other options did exist, but they were all long shots that only the desperate or the deranged would take. Seeing that she wasn't going to have to convince any dissenters the Seishuuin Matriarch relaxed slightly.
Well, that was at least one minor issue dealt with. Hopefully this would keep any reckless hotheads from following through on any ill thought out plans. There would be a level of stability available that would allow her to set up plans of her own.
Such as emergency evacuation protocols for her family in the event that fleeing the country became an issue.
Still, even as she began working out her next steps she found her thoughts wondering back to the newly minted Campione. What might he be doing right now, given the immense power at his command? What plans was he concocting, what long term stratagems might he be devising?
-()-
"I get to feed onii-chan!"
"NO! I do!"
The throbbing in his temples was becoming a sensation to which Shirou was growing far too familiar. Glancing to the side he saw Illya glaring at her identical twin who was glaring right back with equal venom.
"I . . . I don't really feel too hungry." He offered as he stood up.
His stomach tried to rumble in disagreement to that particular statement, but by dint of pure will he was able to suppress it. Making sure that no-one was watching him he slipped an apple off the table and into his pocket. Granted it wouldn't be a full meal, but it would be worth it to get away from this
Both of his 'sisters' were too caught up in their glaring match to pay him much attention, so Shirou took the opportunity to leave the kitchen of the set of hotel apartments they were in and made his way to his room.
"Ah Shirou-sama!"
They were still calling him that? Well, at least it was better than 'Master', but this was the best he could get without giving out direct orders. Turning he was met with the sight of a tall dark haired beauty striding down the corridor towards him, her face an imperious mask.
"Just so you know I've managed to get the gold bullion accepted by some local merchants and exchanged for some capital that we can use. That Nanami girl says that with that kind of money she should be able to acquire the documents that we need to depart this country."
That news brought a relieved smile to his lips. At last there'd be at least one less thing to have to worry about.
"Thank you Hades, that's excellent news."
Her imperious mask lasted for about two more seconds, then collapsed into a crimson blush as she glanced to the side in an oddly bashful manner.
"W-Well, it's not as though I did it just for you or anything. I do want to leave this country as well, and since you have forbidden the use of my Authorities to carry us off this is the next best thing."
He knew he was missing something here, but at the moment the thumping in his head was just too distracting. Offering the best smile he could he nodded to his third divine servant and continued on to his room. Maybe using her chariot of black flames would have let them get to Japan quicker, but since it couldn't fit them all and he had no intention of dragging around those that wouldn't be in its protective aura through the air like balloons that option wasn't even on the table.
"Ah, Master Shirou!"
He'd only just turned the corner when another voice called out to him. Doing his best to keep any irritation from showing on his face the eighth Campione turned to see who had called. No, actually he already knew who it was, only one person continued to address him as Master despite his attempts to do away with that mode of address.
The young woman approaching him was a blonde clad all in white. Like Hades she was a beauty, but her beauty was a bright and energetic one rather than the dark and regal one of the other divine servant. She was quite tall and an irrepressible grin seemed to be etched onto her face.
In a moment she was beside the young red head and had companionably thrown an arm about his shoulders.
"So, I've found where a dragon may be sealed away in the nearby lands. I was wondering if you would be interested in hunting the beast and indulging in the joy of dragon slaying."
"Errr, maybe later."
It was a rather weak response, but for the moment it was the best that Shirou could come up with. The wretched dull throbbing of his headache was getting worse and worse. However despite his refusal the bright grin on the woman's face didn't dim in the slightest.
"Perhaps next time then. It would not do for us to fail to leave a true mark of legend upon this country before we depart after all."
Actually Shirou would be more than happy if he could leave this country without any further incidents. His 'retinue' was already composed of his sister, her clone, three divine servants, four agents for this History Compilation Committee and four more from various other mystic societies. He also had three 'ghost' followers, the result of him experimenting with the changes in his power after Hades, and a half dozen perfectly normal girls that were clones of people he'd just helped on the street.
At least the more mundane clones had stabilized to the point where he could dematerialize them, but the more powerful ones remained stubbornly at his side. Oh, he could have ordered them away, he was well aware that when it came right down to it his will utterly dominated theirs, but he'd sworn never to do that. There was a terrible power to having absolute control over someone, and he'd made a promise to himself that he'd not abuse that power.
"Ah, Shirou-sama."
No matter how tempting the prospect might be.
The soft voice had spoken out as he finally entered his room, and he looked down to see the one it belonged to. She was a young woman so covered in tattoos that it was rather hard to tell of just what ethnicity she was. She was clad largely in ragged lengths of red cloth that did little to hide the lushness of her body or the strange beauty that shone through the markings upon her skin.
Her posture was that of a devoted supplicant, her face pressed to the floor, her arms outstretched, her knees pressed into the carpet and her rear raised quite enticingly by her posture.
In her outstretched hands was a pair of fine boots. Shirou could immediately tell that they were his exact size and their design and materials were just what he wanted. Strong, durable, steel toed and thick soled. Still he was a bit surprised to see them held in the hands of his first divine servant. Just what did she . . . ?
"Please," Her voice was the same soft, almost contrite, yet heated sound that he'd grown accustomed to over the last few days. Really it was quite unbelievable that in the first days she had only ever spoken to him to either curse him or insult him. "Please . . . take these boots and wear them to walk all over me."
And what was even more of a surprise was that he'd find himself looking back on those days when she'd be constantly spewing bile at him with every word and find that he missed them.
Ever since Angra Mainyu had fallen under the influence of the Authority the Emiya heir had gained from Perseus she had become far more devoted to the Devil King to whom she was now a slave. Unfortunately this had somehow translated to her developing a masochistic streak a mile wide.
"Angra . . . I've asked you to stop doing this."
Shirou had to constantly remind himself that he would not give a direct order to any of his servants. He would not. He would not. He would-
"Ah, you're completely right Shirou-sama. I've been a bad girl. I've been a bad girl and I really should be punished."
The last sentence was punctuated by a suggestive shake of her posterior in clear indication of just what kind of punishment she felt would be appropriate.
For his part Shirou was wondering just what was going to happen to him if he ever did make it back to his home reality.
That and trying not to cry.
The Harem
The Harem is a unique Authority in that rather than remaining static it incorporates new aspects into itself each time Shirou gains a new Authority. As a result rather than gaining new Authorities each time he defeats a god Shirou's sole Authority continues to expand in power and utility.
In its first form The Harem was derived from the Authority gained from Angra Mainyu; Curse of Enslavement.
In this form the effects of the Authority were similar to Marquis Voban's Cage of Undead Servants in that it automatically affected any foes vanquished by Shirou. Their essence is at once contained and copied to create an avatar that is under Shirou's complete control. In the case of a god a portion of their power is broken off as they die and used as material to form a sort of spiritual clone. The power of the clone will vary depending upon a number of factors, but generally the result is something akin to a midlevel divine beast, ones that retain scaled down versions of their Authorities. These clones retain their original memories and personalities, but are absolutely obedient to Emiya Shirou. This does not prevent them from actively hating him, but they are completely unable to go against even the most casual of his orders. Such orders can be given verbally or mentally as Shirou remains telepathically connected to all his servants.
The clones created by this Authority remain summoned for a minimum of two weeks before they 'mature' enough that Shirou can materialize and dematerialize them at will. Servants that are 'unsummoned' will enter a state of sleep within the Authority until they are called out once more. There appears to be no limit to how many individual servants can be stored within The Harem. Any servant that is 'killed' by having a major portion of their form destroyed will require time to heal within The Harem proportional to the severity of the injury before they can be summoned again. Total physical annihilation requires about a week of regeneration before the servant can be summoned again.
No clone can ever go further than 100 metres from where their summoner is. If they do they will act as though straining against invisible chains that they cannot break no matter what. There is no limit on how many slaves Shirou can have summoned at a time apart from the energy it takes to maintain them. Mundane servants cost practically nothing whilst mages and magic users are a bit more difficult. How many god clones can be maintained at a time is as yet uncertain, and can only be confirmed after he gains more such servants.
After being absorbed into The Harem this Authority became Curse of Female Enslavement as all servants produced by it came in the form of comely females of one sort or another. In addition the curse can be inflicted upon others causing me to become women that are compelled to obey Shirou. These can be sent away though and as log as they aren't in his presence they will be able to exercise their free will. During the first few minutes after gaining his Authority Shirou was randomly discharging this curse on several occasions before he got it under control.
The second aspect, gained form Perseus, is Adoration of the Maiden.
In its original form this Authority acted as a far more potent version of the Hero's Bride, allowing Shirou to ensnare the hearts of any maiden he lent aid to, no matter how casual that aid would be. Those maidens that fell under the influence of this Authority would be bestowed with the rank of 'Priestess' and devote themselves entirely to the service of their new King. All such 'Priestesses' would receive divine power in exchange for their service, meaning that all under this Authorities influence possess power equal to a talented mage at the very least. The powers that the maidens gain is tailored to their talents and personalities thus enabling a vast variety of powers.
After being absorbed into The Harem this Authority became Adoration of the Claimed. In this form it had three potent effects.
Firstly it ensured that every clone in service to Shirou is now utterly besotted with him as well as totally devoted to his service. All members of the harem will regard each other as allies, though there may be a level of rivalry for Shirou's attention and affection. This eliminates the main negative aspect of Curse of Female Enslavement as he no longer need micro manage his servants to ensure they do not wilfully misinterpret his orders.
Secondly this Authority allows him to enhance the servants that he summons. At the cost of increasing the amount of magical power it takes to maintain them the powers of Servants with abilities of their own will effectively double in potency. Shirou will also gain a higher level of control over his servants, sufficient that he can use their senses as his own and control their actions directly. Due to the considerable mental stress of such an action he can only maintain such control for two servants at a time and only for short periods.
Thirdly Adoration of the Claimed loosens the restrictions upon the creation of spiritual clones so that now rather than slaying his foes to create servants he need only defeat them in order to have a female servant of them. He can even gain clones by simply aiding women, their 'pattern' immediately being added to The Harem as soon as he finishes aiding them. It should be noted though that this release of the restriction only applied to mortal foes. When faced with either gods or other Campione their deaths are required to create a servant clone due to their sheer power.
The third aspect, gained from Hades, is Called up Ghosts. Much like Rule of the Underworld's summoning aspect this allows Shirou to call up the ghosts of the dead by using something connected to them as a reagent. While this version cannot incarnate them into servant bodies, merely summoning them up as ghosts or skeletons, the reagent restrictions are far looser. Rather than something closely connected to them it can be something as simple as a room in which they worked or a pencil they once used.
After being absorbed into The Harem this Authority became Brides From Beyond the Grave. Its function was altered so that now Shirou could use reagents to call up the souls of the dead and then use them to create more spiritual clones for The Harem. Servants produced in this manner are all flesh and blood like his other Servants, but retain their 'ghost' powers and are comparatively 'cheap' to maintain. As a result he can raise large umbers of power capable servants that don't drain him to use.
From a purely clinical point of view The Harem is a powerful Authority that provides Shirou with a veritable army of fanatically devoted immortal servants obedient to his command whose power can range from normal mortal to being on par with a Heretic God. These servants can be further strengthened by granting them Traced Noble Phantasms. Given that such servants can be employed in a suicidal manner without causing them permanent harm facing Shirou's harem in combat is a prospect that can be daunting to even a powerful god.
On a more practical note this Authority is the source of innumerable headaches of Shirou.
