Chapter 1- The Final Piece
The boy awoke at the crack of dawn, the violent pinpricks of light that pierced the shed had disturbed him. It was not unusual for him to fall asleep in the shed after tinkering with something all night, in this case he had been messing with an old heater that he had been given. He stood up and stretched his arms, yawning slightly as he did so. Sleeping on the solid floor was taxing, it was about time he kept a futon on hand. There were plenty spare in the house, no one ever stayed over anyway.
He left the shed, glancing at the circle inscribed in the floor as he shut the door. He would be putting it to use very soon, within the next twenty four hours. He had no catalyst, Kiritsugu had told him that it would work regardless. The morning sun shone down upon him, causing him to lift his hand out of reflex.
The command seals had already begun to form, a series of small red welts littered the back of his left hand, informing him that he was one of the chosen few. It should be obvious that he would be chosen, he was one of few active mages present in Fuyuki. Mage probably wasn't the right term, he did not practice magecraft like anyone else. The term his father had taught him was spell caster, someone who used magecraft like a tool to further their own goals. He gathered his thoughts and entered the house to change into his uniform, he still had to attend school as normal even if there was a war about to break out.
Entering the schoolyard as normal, he headed for the archery club's dojo. Slipping in without a word, he changed clothes and took up his position on the range. The floors had been cleaned so thoroughly that he could see his own reflection in them. If he had to guess, he assumed it would have been done by the Matou girl in the year below. He put the thoughts out of his mind as he stared across at the target. In this moment all that existed was the target, the bow and the arrow. No one else was present.
He lifted the bow up high, nocked the arrow on the string and let the bow fall down an inch or two before loosing the arrow. Every movement was perfect, as if it was done by a machine. The arrow flew from the bow, shooting straight into the heart of the target, the sound of it shredding the air with a whistle before letting out a satisfying thunk as it connected with the target echoed throughout the empty dojo. 28 metres felt like nothing, the arrow met the target in less than a second. He sighed before resuming his original position. Lift, nock, lower, loose. The same process. The arrow struck true again, as he knew it would. He had only ever missed once, knowing the arrow would miss the target before he even loosed it. It was all too easy for him and had started to become boring.
It was good practice for honing the mind and it's principles could be applied to magecraft. Trace, analyse, image, create. The same four steps he followed every single night without fail. The arrow met the bullseye repeatedly until he had fired nine times. He replaced the bow, moved to retrieve the arrows and put them back where they belonged too. He changed back into his school uniform, wrapping a red scarf around his neck before heading to class for the day.
At lunch, he headed to the roof to be alone. He ate lunch that he had prepared the day before, a basic salad that would provide the base nutrients he needed. He had made complicated dishes before but that was when there were more people present to eat. Kiritsugu had been gone for a long time and Taiga did not come round often. She was busier now that Raiga had died and said she did not have much time. She even had to quit teaching. He did not ask why, he just accepted things as they were. He never complained, a trait that Kiritsugu had pointed out many times. He cooked for himself, ate by himself and lived by himself.
The past few months had been different though, he had been preparing for something. The Holy Grail War, a life changing event that would grant a single wish. Seven participants would arrive, with seven different wishes. Six of them would be trampled underfoot by the victor who would claim their wish with hands soaked in blood. This was the concept of the Holy Grail War that the Einzberns, Tohsaka and Makiri had developed. Kiritsugu had drilled it into him and left behind even more information in his diaries. It seemed like Kiritsugu had been affiliated with the Einzberns from the way he talked about them. He always looked somewhat sad when the topic came up. Kiritsugu had also told him of how the grail was ruined by the Einzberns themselves.
He had said that the grail itself was corrupted to the point that it would only spew destruction and death when it was full. This was Shirou's reason for entering the Holy Grail War, to win it so that nobody could wish upon it. He would win the war and smash the grail to pieces, a plan that he had put in place with Kiritsugu a few years back. Kiritsugu had determined that the Holy Grail War would likely happen again in Shirou's lifetime so he had decided to teach him what was necessary. He was not entirely unprepared, he had come a long way in projection magecraft. Most things were useless but he seemed to have a high affinity with anything weapon related, particularly bladed weapons such as knives and swords. He had even gone so far as to project an arrow in the dojo before when he was alone, it had flown far faster than a regular arrow and left a nasty mark in the target. He wondered just what it could do if he packed more magical energy into it. He sat up on the rooftop alone eating in solitude as he pondered on what was to come.
Night had fallen and Shirou had yet to return home, he was still at the dojo and cleaning up after himself. It was not like him to stay for this long, he normally shot for an hour and returned home but something had kept him here this time. He had fired over and over again until his fingers had begun to bleed from pulling the drawstring. That did not bother him, he continued to fire for a bit after that but stopped when he heard the drops of blood splatter onto the polished dojo floor.
After cleaning it up, he left the dojo and noticed that something was off. He could hear noises coming from the courtyard, sounds of steel clashing against steel echoed throughout the area and he observed the chaos from afar. Hiding behind the chain link fence, he knelt down so that only his head would be visible. Two things were going at each other, a huge man wearing armour and a cape faced off against a small slender woman with black hair that flowed down her back and covered part of the ground around her feet. She wore a white skull mask that covered most of her face except for her mouth, which showed no movement as she flitted across the courtyard to try and throw off the man she was fighting. He was sat upon a horse, one that was seemingly made of bronze. In his hand was a sabre with an ornate guard made of gold and he was waving it occasionally. Every time he swung his sword, it clashed with something that Shirou could not see.
The sound of steel meeting steel flooded through the area upon each swing and it seemed as if the tall man was being forced back by the small woman. Every time they clashed, violent blasts of air were released that washed over the area. They were moving at speeds that should not be possible, his eyes barely able to keep up with them. The woman moved fastest, seemingly remaining out of distance of the man whilst flipping acrobatically and shaking her head as she did so. That was when Shirou realised what her weapon was. Thin strands of hair caught the moonlight, they were as strong as steel yet they moved so brilliantly that they still resembled hair. One of the strands that was cut flew towards Shirou, missing him by an inch and leaving a thin cut across his cheek as it flew through the chain link fence that he had hid behind. He ducked down even lower, terrified that the next time that happened would be the last thing he ever experienced.
The man was fighting off each strand that came towards him, every single one would cause death if it met it's mark. He was barely able to deflect each one before retreating a distance himself, his horse moving far too fast and turning at a speed and angle not possible. It seemed as if instead of turning, it had simply disassembled and reconstructed itself to face that same position in a matter of milliseconds. The man on the horse spoke aloud for the first time to his female opponent.
"You are mighty impressive, Assassin. A woman of the East I see. Why don't we put our hostilities aside and have a drink? I daresay you might like me enough to take off that mask afterwards."
The man grinned at her as if his words had another meaning. His accent was definitely foreign, Shirou couldn't quite place it though. She responded to his grin with a single strand of hair that found it's way through his guard and cut open his cheek. Fortunately for the man, he had leaned back in time to avoid having his head cut in half. He had also brought his sword upwards in a brilliant arc whilst leaning back which had cleaved the hair in two before it could do any more than a shallow slice. He bit back a look of anger before kicking the hind of the horse and disappearing into the night, his horse moving at a speed that outdid even the highest performance sports cars.
The woman that he had called Assassin paused for a moment and surveyed the area, causing Shirou to remain stiff as a board in his hiding place. Her eyes locked onto his hiding place and he almost passed out. He could feel her looking at him, but she did not seem to notice his presence. He eased up on his breathing and remained completely still. After a few moments, she put her hood back up and disappeared into the darkness. It was as if she had melted away completely and left the area. He let out a breath that he had been holding in, his tense stomach easing up. He fell to his knees and vomited up the salad he had eaten earlier. He had been so close to death that he could still feel it, the hairs on his body had stood on end when that woman had looked in his direction. He wiped his mouth off with the sleeve of his uniform before getting to his feet. He took a few deep breaths, in and out just to ensure he could move properly. He left the schoolyard as fast as he could, moving out of the gate and running home as fast as he could.
He reached his house and didn't even bother to go through the front door, instead opting to clamber over the garden wall and head straight to the workshop. He kicked aside the heater he had been working on, sending it flying into the wall with a loud crash. It had to be now. He knew in his core that he absolutely had to summon it now. Something told him that if he did not summon it now, he would die. He cleared the area and stood over the summoning circle. He remembered the words that he had been taught by Kiritsugu and began to speak them.
"Heed my words, my will creates your body and your sword creates my destiny."
He spoke the first line as he raised his right arm over the circle.
Something stared down at the puddle of bile on the floor and the blood spattered against the chain link fence. It wiped it's finger on the blood and tasted it. It was fresh, someone had seen it. It had been seen. It had been seen. It had been seen.
"If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning!"
It flew across the deserted rooftops, leaping from each one frantically as it chased the trail left behind. It had been seen. It could not allow that to be. If it was seen by someone, that someone had to die. Those were the rules. The wind sent it's hair flying everywhere, brushing off of objects harmlessly.
"I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat... all of the evil in the world!"
He spoke this line with incredible passion, it was not just a line for the incantation but also a principle that he lived by. The words came from his very being.
It could sense the birth of something. A ritual was taking place, the same one it had been involved in. It had to get there now. Now, now, now. Or it would fail.
"Seventh heaven clad and the great words of power…"
It was about to arrive, it's hair curled around a lamppost as it swung with incredible momentum to launch itself up into the sky. Twisting as it soared upwards through the air, it's hair extended and it became silhouetted against the silver moon. The thing was bathed in moonlight as it flew over the walls of the Emiya estate.
"Come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of Scales!"
He screamed the last line, the bell in the main house had begun to ring as the words left his mouth. The red welts on his hand joined up into a unique pattern. He felt it within his core, something deep in his chest resonated with the summoning circle and his legs gave way.
He fell backwards as a thin hair slashed through the wall, it would have taken his head off had he remained stood in the same position. A bright blue light filled the room, painting the building in blue for a moment. The woman from before stood in the doorway, her hair shifted as it flew towards him. For the first time he heard her speak, that word would forever be etched into his brain.
"Zabaniya."
An unearthly rasp that shredded his eardrums, as if the woman had not drank water in a hundred years. At that single word, the strands of death bore down on Shirou, intending to slice him into pieces. He sat against one of the beams, facing the figure that was standing in the doorway. Everything had seemed to move in slow motion, he had completed the summoning and right as he had finished the incantation, the Assassin had come to take his head.
Her first strand had failed to decapitate him as his legs had given way, but it did cut a line across his chest causing blood to stain his uniform. There were two seconds between the end of the chant and the activation of Zabaniya, leaving him almost entirely defenceless to the Assassin's weapon. He had seen what the hair had been able to do before, except now that it was seriously trying to kill him; her prior attacks looked almost lazy.
After the woman had spoken that word, every strand exploded towards him violently. Like a frag grenade of hair, each strand shot outwards from the Assassin but seemed to approach from different angles. They sped towards him at an extreme speed that would make it impossible to dodge even if he was standing. Instead of closing his eyes, he glared at the Assassin, determined to go out with fire in his heart. That was when it happened.
A beam of light originated at the other end of the shed, like a pinprick that grew bigger until it was the width of a flashlight. It exploded violently, incinerating the hair that was about to claim his life. Heat washed over him as did a feeling that he had not felt in a while, hope. Less than a second after Zabaniya had been activated, it had been destroyed. The beam had blown a hole in the shed too, but he would not complain. It had saved his life. He understood instinctually what had caused that beam.
Moonlight shone through the new hole, painting an extraordinary scene. In front of him stood a girl. She could be no older than twenty. She held something golden in one hand that quickly became obscured, and was clad in full plate armour and a regal blue dress. The moonlight fell down upon her, bathing her in it's radiance. It caught her straw coloured hair, turning it gold for an instant. She turned to look down at him, her green eyes studying the boy meticulously.
"I ask you. Are you my Master?"