Prologue
This is wrong.
That thought crossed Caster's mind as she sprinted out of the Ryuudou Temple gate, her bare feet pounding heavily on the stone ground. Glancing behind her, her eyes darting wildly, scanning her surroundings.
This shouldn't be happening.
Infinite numbers of stars embedded in the night sky, the only source of illumination that pierced the darkness that was consuming the lonely Mount Enzo. The spectacle the stars were providing that night was absolutely breath-taking.
A perfect night to watch a victim writhed in despair and pain at her feet before succumbing to death, Caster would have mused darkly, if it wasn't for the fact that she was currently in a life and death situation.
WHY?
"…!"
The only answer she got from her unspoken question was an invisible sword enshrouded by wind that seemingly materialized from her left. Aiming straight at her head.
Caster's eyes widen, her heart felt like it ceased its beating. Although she was a Heroic Spirit, even she could hardly follow the swift and fluid motion of the sword (it doesn't help that it was invisible). Caster could feel the air beneath the parted under the might of the sword, descending like a blade of a guillotine, no doubt cleaving through her cranium like knife through butter…
Staring at seemingly inevitable death with dread-filled eyes, Caster did not realized what happened next would save her life, at least for the moment.
She tripped.
Normally, this would be rather embarrassing for Caster, being the former Princess of Colchis, such a way to avoid danger would hurt her pride as royalty. But now, at desperate times like this, surely beggars can't be choosers, can they? With her attention on the invisible sword, Caster did not realized that she had reached the first of the stone steps leading from the bottom of the mountain to the temple. The sudden change in land height caused Caster to lose her footing and with a yelp of surprise and fear, fell head-first down the steps.
She could vaguely hear the sound of metal striking against stone but Caster could not care less at the moment, for she was trying desperately to cover her body with her arms as she bounced down the steps like a barrel. She considered ending her descent, to stop the pain that erupted in her arms everything she landed on the steps, but she was too weak. She had spent some of her prana reserve holding off her enemy and she could not afford to waste any more precious energy on such actions. So she gritted her teeth in endurance as she rolled down the steps a few more times before sprawling unceremoniously on the stone landing.
Shaking her head to get rid of the dizziness that assaulted her, Caster quickly crawled to her back and turning to face the temple gate, just to see her pursuer descending down the stone steps like a gush of wind.
She's fast…Caster thought dumbly as her pursuer's metal boots clanked against the stone steps, her figure a blur. About a few metres away from Caster, the petite pursuer gave a barely audible 'hmph' as she leapt from the stone steps into the night sky, her armoured hands lifting the sword behind her head as gravity pulled her back to the Earth.
"HARRRGH!"
"D…Don't underestimate me!" Caster growled, though not as intimidating as she had hoped. Raising her gloved right hand, purple glows of pure magical energy began to encircle her hand.
"βίδες!"
Immediately, the area Caster was in an eerie purple glow as multitudes of purple lightning shot from her outstretched palm towards her descending pursuer.
If there were any normal Magus facing such an onslaught of magical bolts, they would pale at the raw power emitting from the attack, despite Caster's weak state.
However, to her pursuer, it was just a Tuesday.
Not a hint of fear or worry crossed her delicate feature as the invisible sword hacked and slashed away, causing the bolts to explode as it came into contact with the blade.
An observer far away from the mountain would have dismissively concluded that the light display at Mount Enzo was probably fireworks for a festival in Ryuudou Temple.
By the Gods…what does it takes to stop her? Caster grimaced as began to cease her useless attack, preferring to save whatever prana reserve she had left and watched helplessly as her pursuer eliminated the last of the magical bolts as easily as a squashing an ant with her finger.
Truthfully, Caster did not know whether to feel disappointed or pleased. On one hand, even in her abnormal and weak state, she felt that her power as a witch from the Age of Gods could not even hold a flame to the sheer dominating might from the sliver knight. It hurts her pride, quite badly in fact, that she could not even make her pursuer flinched at the danger she imposed to her. At that same time, she was glad that her decision to capture her pursuer hadn't been wrong. The knight was powerful, so powerful that it was miracle Caster had survived so long. If she had been struck down by the barrage of magical bolts fired at her, she would make a pretty useless ally, one Caster would discard as soon as she outlive whatever meagre use she has.
Realizing that her pursuer would soon be in striking range, Caster made a frantic dive out of the way just as the invisible sword struck the ground, causing a miniature crater. The force from the sword sent Caster flying, landing into a puddle of rainwater with a splash.
Her head hurt. Her arms hurt. Her feet hurt. Her everywhere hurt. Groaning in pain and exhaustion, Caster's feeble arms barely managed to lift her upper body up, unintentionally looking at her reflection in the water.
She looked dreadful. Her battered hood has left her head, hanging behind her. The braids in her hair was undone, and her violet hair was messy and dirtied, with random strands of hair poking out her and there that gave the impression of bed hairs. Her face was bruised, though not that badly, and a tickle of blood slithered out of her nose. Her dress was torn, with several holes decorating it.
Pitiful.
Caster shut her eyes as tears began to well up in them and clenched her hands into a fist. Even after more than two thousand years, when the Gods are now memories of a past long gone, it still seems as though their presence has not left her side, constantly tinkering and toying with her life, to heap misfortunes one after the other, savouring gleefully at her reaction every time bad luck has befallen over her, watching, waiting to see how far she would endure before how mind slowly erode away into nothingness.
Why can't they leave her alone, let her live the life she always dreamed of. The Holy Grail was the chance she needed, to achieve her wish, but now…
The clanking of metal boots snapped Caster out of her self-pity. Slowly raising her damp face, she saw with increasing despair that her pursuer was calming approaching her. Adverting her eyes, she saw something to her right that brought a tingle of hope to her.
Rule Breaker. Her Noble Phantasm lay a short distance away from her. The jagged blade must have fallen out of her possession when the force of the sword sent her flying. She just need to stretch her arm a bit more…
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The cold feminine voice dashed her hopes into the rocks. No doubt another ploy by the Gods to amuse themselves seeing her fall into despair. Caster felt a prick on her throat and at once knew what it signify.
She has lost. And she is going to pay for her failure in obtaining the Holy Grail with death.
Caster retracted her quivering hand back in front of her, glaring at her pursuer with tear-stained eyes.
"Saber."
The knight did not flinched at the glare that was sent to her way, nor did she immediately respond. Saber's green eyes stared coldly into Caster's, the bangs of her blonde hair swayed in the gentle breeze, her girlish feature held no trace of emotion, only determination. The hand that gripped the invisible sword was as still as a stature.
The young knight radiated pureness and goodwill, of gallantness and nobility, of everything she once had but lost. Caster felt a pang of envy, and felt a need to corrupt this pure soul into something like she was now, yet at the same time, admired those qualities the knight possessed and lament of her loss.
"You put up a nice counterattack, but now this is your end, Servant of the Spell." Saber spoke, lifting her sword away from Caster's throat and above her head.
Caster drooped her head, a weary chuckle escaped her lips, tears slipping from her face and landed into the puddle of water. This is the end, it seems. No chance to seek the Holy Grail, no chance to have her wish granted, no chance to be with him…
If there is any way out of this this, to survive and continue the Holy Grail War, it would be a miracle, and Caster had been through enough misfortunes to know how unlik-
"WAIT!"