'Would it kill you all to add some heaters in here?'
She supposed it was par for the course in a typical New York high school like hers. While it would probably be better for her to remember a decent chunk of the school staff sympathized, and would probably also love it if the school could afford the luxury, trudging down the fifty degree hallway to the fifty degree classroom was making it hard to-
"Sophia, you're late." 'By what, five seconds?' "Sorry, Mrs. Dodds."
"When will you be paying your detention? After school today, or early tomorrow morning?" Mrs. Dodds gazed at her like the humanoid vulture everyone said she was behind her back. The nose really sold it.
Sophia channeled the last bit of willpower in her veins to reply that she'd do it today. Unfortunately, that meant her willpower battery was dry, so she had no reason to pay attention to class material.
And now she had to spend an additional half hour in a fifty degree cafeteria.
"Hey, at least you won't have to spend it alone."
Sophia barely managed to register the words before a little pink eraser zipped through the air and suddenly there was spilled coffee soaking the day's homework, and a large portion of Mrs. Dodd's skirt.
"Mr. Castellan…" Her voice carefully steady, "What is the meaning of this?" She addressed the young man to Sophia's left. Matthew Castellan smiled serenely in return, not a hint of remorse in his eyes, as he ran a hand through his pale blond hair.
"Sorry, Mrs. Dodds, I was aiming for the trash can and missed."
Maybe today won't be that horrible after all, Sophia mused as she spared a glance at the trash can, a solid five feet to the right of the vulture's desk.
A couple hours later found them both in the cafeteria, silence mandated and enforced by the janitor's not very watchful eyes. Frankly, Sophia was certain he was more engrossed in the magazine he was reading. Either that or the rumored magazine hidden within the magazine, which she was also certain probably wasn't school appropriate. Nobody bothered to complain though, more thankful that Mrs. Dodds was just as tired of them as they were of her.
"You know you really didn't have to do that today."
Matthew shrugged in reply, "Eh, didn't want to leave you here all alone, Sophie. Besides, beats going to one of my dad's parties."
Sophia remembered the man in question, and despite her friendship with Matthew, she could count the number of times she'd met his father on one hand. She was pretty sure he hardly remembered her either, seemingly more interested in judging her choice of shoe ware than shaking her hand.
"I'd imagine," Sophia replied, raising a brow at something else that caught her eye. "Speaking of your dad, he doesn't strike me as the kinda guy who'd approve of tattoos," she remarked on the red motif on the back of Matthew's right hand.
Matthew winced and pulled the cuff of his hoodie's sleeve up. "He's not, so don't bring it up to him next time you see him."
Sophia could feel the uncomfortability in the air, so she simply pretended to zip her lips shut before changing the subject. The conversation swiftly changed to shared complaints about the teacher who landed them in detention in the first place. Sophia brought up the prospect of whether or not they'd get her to say "Listen here, you little shits." Sophia was confident they could get it out of her by the end of the year at this rate. Matthew cackled.
Sophia thanked Matthew for driving her home.
She didn't see or hear him take a deep breath before driving off again.
She was too focused on getting inside from the cold, and then focusing on the priest in the living room. 'I can feel a joke coming on here, except I don't like the punchline.'
Father Harold had returned.
"Thank you, Eveline. The children will be in good care, you have my word."
Eveline didn't respond. Sophia didn't blame her. The orphanage had been in her care some years before she was even born.
"Nana?" Sophia called. Eveline perked up at her voice, a smile gracing her wizened face, but the lingering remnants of sadness failed to hide.
"Ah, Sophia, welcome home," She answered, "could you get Father Harold some-"
"Tea would be appreciated." Harold finished for her. Sophia made for the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the shudder that went down her spine.
It was around six in the evening when Matthew entered his father's manor, feeling he could only drive around the city to push this off for so long.
His father, predictable in his expectations, was the first to greet him.
"You're late."
Matthew didn't bother to apologize. Mages didn't want to hear excuses. He simply followed him to the cellar.
Everything was laid out for him when he got there. Just like always.
A silence fell over them. Eveline and Harold sat on opposite couches in the living room, a fresh cup of jasmine tea in Harold's hands, a fresh migraine in hers.
Sophia had went upstairs to check on the other kids after handing Harold his drink.
"She isn't eavesdropping, is she?"
Eveline sighed and focused. Firing up her old magic circuits was no doubtedly going to leave her sore in many places. A simple pulse through the bounded field that had been established nearly thirty years ago revealed Sophia in one of the kids' rooms, talking to, or more likely, comforting, one of the youngest girls, the door closed.
"No."
Another moment of silence passed. Eveline would consider each one a blessing from a higher power at this point.
"Eveline, I promise you the kids will be in good care with my church."
"Say it a thousand times, I still have my doubts."
"It's the safest place for them to be in for now. You know the church is neutral ground, no master would dare step foot there unless-"
"They lost their servant, I know. But the rules are arbitrary," Eveline countered, "Mages would do anything to get their hands on the Grail. The lives of a few children and something like 'morality' means nothing when they have an opportunity to reach the Root."
"Mages do underhanded things, I understand that as much as anyone. The animosity between the Church and the Clock Tower exists for a reason," Harold conceded, "But I assure you the children will be under our safe watch. We will watch any mage who comes to our door like a hawk. You may rest easy."
"Hardly" Eveline scoffed, "Need I remind you that church doesn't exactly have a stellar record when it comes to-"
Harold cut her off this time. "You know me, Eveline. I'm not that kind of person, by Mary, I've only been to the Vatican once! The children will face no harm while the local church is under my control. Besides, my understanding is your financial situation isn't satisfactory."
Eveline's eyes drifted to the television. Senator William Ainsworth's speech was muted, but the subtitles provided his words. Promises of new jobs, promises of growth, promises of a greater city.
"How many Masters are we up to now?"
"Four."
Eveline heaved another sigh, "That will be all, Harold. I will have the children moved to the church in two days."
"At the latest. I can't promise their safety afterwards," Harold replied as he stood to leave, "I can promise you, whichever mages decide to participate, your children will be safe with me."
Eveline didn't reply as Harold left her home. Her thoughts only drifted towards the catalyst on her desk, two floors above her head, and the red marks on the back of her right hand that Harold didn't know about.
'Five, actually.'
Sophia paused on the landing of the stairs for a moment, and once she was sure she couldn't hear the voice of a priest, joined her caretaker in the living room.
Eveline turned to gaze at her wistfully. Sophia mirrored the look.
"This is it?" Sophia asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. Will you be joining the other children?"
"I don't know yet. Hard enough breaking it to the other kids, I don't blame them for wanting to stay."
"I can hardly keep the lights on anymore. It will be safer," Eveline replied.
"Are you telling that to me or to yourself?"
Eveline let out a chuckle at that one, "You always were a bright one. Maybe you should go to your parents' manor."
Sophia remembered the empty and dark building about three miles away, that belonged to the parents that died in a car accident. She'd only been inside the building a handful of times, and didn't go much deeper than the first few rooms beyond the foyer. The building was under property of some foreign real estate company she didn't know the name of.
"What do you want me to do, live there or loot the place and find somewhere else?"
"I suppose it's up to you." Eveline gave an age-defying mischievous grin.
Tobias' fingers left the keyboard. It had taken hours of meticulously covering his tracks as he went along, multitasking with keeping his chatroom open on the side of the screen. After hours of juggling these separate tasks, he'd finally done it.
He was looking at a confidential email server belonging to one Senator William Ainsworth. He passed a few minutes scrolling, looking for something leak-worthy. He stopped when he saw a particular email from a contact in London with a pdf file attached, dated November 5th. 'Clock Tower Department of Summoning?'
He opened the pdf file, and was greeted by an intimidating image. A multi-layered circle design containing a six pointed star, certain points filled in, others empty, and old-looking symbols lay throughout. Instructions filled out the next page.
'Didn't know the Senator was into the occult. Well, it'd make a sick wall or floor art design.'
Tobias grabbed his can of spray paint, and his white, moustached mask, and headed for the other room.
Eveline sat alone in her chair, basking in the moonlight she'd normally be slumbering under at this ungodly hour. Instead, she rose from her chair, letting a few groans slip as she felt her old joints work overtime.
She made her way to the basement. She came to a stop on the opposite side of the already drawn magic circle from the table that housed her catalyst, a single black feather she'd disguised as a quill pen.
She raised a hand, observing the simple crimson motif of three pillars side by side, angled together.
Eveline huffed, a habit she'd noticed herself picking up very strongly as of late.
'This one's for the kids.'
Matthew held the mana-infused gems in his enclosed hand over the presently glowing circles in front of him.
Let silver and steel be the essence.
Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation
Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall
Let the four cardinal gates close.
Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.
Eveline chanted.
I hereby declare.
Your body shall serve under me.
My fate shall be your sword.
Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail
If you will submit to this will and this reason…Then answer!
Matthew winced as the circle's glow increased to an almost blinding radiance.
An oath shall be sworn here!
I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven.
I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell!
Eveline observed the glow turn from bluish green to a deep red to match the Command Seals on the back of her hand.
From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power,
Come forth from the ring of restraints,
Protector of the Holy Balance!
The light disappeared fast enough to make Matthew cover his eyes to try to recover from the temporary blindness. When he was able to see again, he lowered his hand.
Within the center of the circle stood a figure, a man, looking to be in his early forties if Matthew had to wager a guess. Dark golden armor formed a chestplate, shoulderpads, and gauntlets. His armor was fitted over a gray tunic, black trousers, and brown boots.
"I ask of you, which of you is my master?"
"I am," Matthew displayed his hand, the three command seals on the back of his hand forming the silhouettes of feathers swirling around each other, "What class of Servant are you?"
"Archer," the man replied.
"Well then, Archer, come with me. We have battle plans to make."
The light faded, and Tobias found himself wondering if he just got flashbanged and the authorities had just bashed down his door.
Tobias stood and dusted himself off, only to catch the sight of a red tattoo on the back of his hand that hadn't been there before. Along with the man now standing in his basement. The man wore an old looking top hat of sorts, the brim casting a shadow over his face. A black cloak fell off his shoulders, the gap revealing old looking clothing beneath, what looked like a white button-up shirt beneath a black vest. A black leather belt held up black trousers, which settled into black dress shoes.
The man's gaze slowly and calmly panned around the room, before settling on the mask Tobias had set aside. He snorted in amusement as he walked out of the circle and took the mask into his hands.
Tobias' brain decided this was the proper moment to check back in.
"W-w-who-" Okay, maybe his mouth would need another minute.
The man's gaze drifted back to him, "Oh, I see. You are not a mage, are you?" He spoke in a heavy British accent.
Tobias cleared his throat, "No, now could you please answer my questions?"
The man chuckled in his reply, "You may simply call me Assassin for now. I have quite a bit to fill you in on…"
Sophia left school later than usual after a migraine-inducing study session. The sun had already abandoned her to the biting late autumn winds, the darkness, the smell of smoke-
'Wait-'
Sophia's head snapped up to see the plume of smoke, the dark cloud's undertoned by the glow of flames. Coming from the direction of-
Sophia broke into a sprint. She reached the sight of the orphanage, or what was left of it. The blaze roared as it ate away at the debris, the stench of smoke and burnt metal permeated the air.
"NANNA! NANNA!"
She wasn't answered by Eveline or any of the children, only a deep, reverberating laugh.
A man, or something like one, stood among the flames. He was humanoid for sure, muscular torso exposed, some kind of large beaded necklace rested draped around his shoulders, a three pointed crown resting on his head, matching intricately detailed golden gauntlets and boots over baggy black pants. That was where the resemblance ended though. His skin was a deep crimson, pointed nose and ears, thick, wavy black hair and moustache, and fangs protruding from his grin.
"Well now, it turns out there is a child here. My master didn't lie to me after all," he chuckled as calmly walked towards her, through the flames like they didn't affect him. Sophia felt the ground under feet sway, like she was going to be sick. Something about this man, beyond his appearance and brimstone scent, unnerved her.
"Who are you?" Sophia managed to get the words out.
"I would say 'none of your concern,' but I'm afraid mage law states normal people aren't allowed to witness magecraft and live to tell about it. My master was quite insistent upon this, unfortunately for you. Fear not, however, I can sense strong potential for magecraft from you. I can use that mana-"
His voice abruptly cut off as he stared at her in appallment.
'No, not at me, at something right behind-'
The nausea passed. Only to be replaced by cold dread.
"Attacking children, are we?" A female voice called.
When Sophia saw the source of the sound, a part of her felt like she wished she hadn't.
The woman perched atop of the debris pile. Ornate spear in hand, the woman's appearance was beautiful, but also off in some indescribable way. Her pitch black hair framed blue eyes that seemed to glow and pierce right through Sophia. The woman didn't look like she was actively paying Sophia any mind, instead calmly fixated on the man in front of her with an almost nonchalant look to her.
The man loudly sniffed, then licked his lips.
"I smell divine blood," The man smirked, "Have I met a worthy foe?"
"Yes, though I have not," the woman began calmly striding down the debris pile, coming to a stop at Sophia's side, leveling her spear at the man's chest.
"Who are you?" Sophia asked her in fear.
"You may want to back away, young one," she said without turning to acknowledge Sophia, but she was quick to agree.
"You're letting her go?" The man growled in dismay.
"You said your master was quite insistent on killing witnesses. Mine is quite insistent on the opposite. Back down now or die."
The man merely let his smirk slip back into place.
"Wouldn't be the first time I angered the divine. I SHALL BRING LORD SHIVA YOUR HEAD!"
The two moved. The woman's spear deflected off the man's crossed gauntlets, but when he tried to retaliate, the woman was quick to retreat a few steps and try attacking from a new angle. The man only used one armored arm this time, so he had a clawed hand free to take a swipe at his opponent, who quickly blocked it with the shaft of her spear. The man launched himself into the air and brought his foot down on the woman from above. She almost seemed to simply phase out of the way, leaving her enemy to growl in frustration in the middle of the web of cracks in the pavement his impact had caused.
'Who-What are these people?!'
The woman stopped and twirled her spear absently in her right hand, letting a smirk of her own grace her lips.
"I wonder what class of Servant you are," Sophia heard her taunt. It occurred to her that staying any longer would most likely be poor for her health, but she couldn't tear her eyes away.
The man tensely stared back at his enemy.
"You haven't drawn a blade to fight back, so you aren't a knight. You lack the insanity of a Berserker. You fight far to physically for a mage, so you're certainly no Caster, either, are you, lad?" She paused, mockingly pretending to be lost in thought as she slowly circled him, "That makes you a Rider."
Her enemy growled even deeper, "You on the other hand are easy enough to classify. You're Lancer."
He rushed her, to which she responded by dodging out the way. He didn't stop though, charging straight towards Sophia.
She turned and bolted, hearing the woman called Lancer yell something. Sophia dared another peak over her shoulder, to see some kind of magic circle glowing beneath Rider's feet. He tugged on his legs to continue running, but seemed immobilized.
"Keep running, lass! Don't stop!" Lancer called after her as Rider continued to struggle.
"So, it's begun?"
"Yes, Mr. Ainsworth. My familiar witnessed Rider attacking an orphanage about ten miles away before it was destroyed in the crossfire," His associate responded.
"I see. Send out more. I want eyes all throughout the city. And I think it's time you paid this Harold a visit."
"You're the boss. Come along, Caster," William's associate waved to his servant. A woman wrapped in a royal blue, hooded cloak silently nodded and followed after him.
William sighed once he was alone in the room. Well, not entirely.
"Do you hear that, Berserker? It's almost time to hunt."
He smiled to the hulking mass of canine muscle and fur, wrapped in chains.
Sophia attempted to get her breathing under control. Pure adrenaline allowed her to run the distance to her parents' abandoned manor, bust the lock on the front gate, and make her way to the cellar, where she was currently hiding behind a crate.
"Who...the hell...were they?" She wondered aloud.
"I could answer-"
'Oh for the love of-'
She managed to tuck and roll away just as the crate was kicked to the side. Rider smiled at her.
"-But I'm afraid it would be rather pointless. Now, make this easier on yourself. Stop running and I will be mercifully quick about it."
Sophia scowled back at him. She obviously couldn't fight him if he was some kind of super human. 'Could use a tall, dark spear lady right about now, she seemed friendly enough.'
Rider calmly approached. Sophia backed away slowly. Rider took a swipe. She tried to dodge it but one of his clawed fingernails managed to scrape her arm. It was a shallow cut, not very painful.
But it was enough.
Sophia's blood dripped to the floor. Once, twice, three times. Then the floor started to glow.
"WAIT WHAT THE-"
That was all Rider managed to say before he was swatted aside.
'Or another guy with a sword, that works too.'
Rider groaned as he picked himself up from hole in the wall. His calm demeanor vanished entirely, replaced by furious frustration.
"Another Servant!?" He growled at the newcomer.
At least six foot tall, handsome with a mediterranian complexion, jet black hair and stubble along his jaw, sky blue eyes, black cloak cascading off of his shoulders, silver armor protecting his torso over a dark blue tunic, black pants tucked into boots made of the same metal as the armor on his torso and arms, and black gloved hands clutching a silvery-metal double-handed greatsword, the blade reaching at least four feet in length.
"You must be Saber," Rider growled.
The newcomer, dubbed Saber, smirked, "What gave that away? My sword?"
"Oh, ha-ha-" Rider started.
Saber didn't give him time to finish. He rushed, a stab pointed at Rider's heart. Rider blocked it with a gauntleted arm, before trying to retaliate with a punch. Saber's left hand departed from his sword's pommel, catching and grabbing Rider's fist, and yanked. Rider found himself being pulled in, as Saber punched him in the face with his other fist, sword still in hand. As Rider recoiled, Saber took a back handed swipe. Rider managed to dodge it, but not the follow up kick that sent him to the floor.
Rider groaned again, glaring at Saber, who calmly gazed back, albeit maintaining his stance. Rider gave one last growl before disappearing in a haze of blue light.
Saber seemed to relax himself, then turned to face Sophia, who stared back at him, dumbstruck.
"I-Is he-?"
"He went into spirit form and fled. You don't have to worry about him for now. Anyway, are you my Master?" Saber asked.
Sophia didn't really know how to respond, "Okay, first, hi, my name is Sophia, second, who are you and what the hell is going on!?" But she could improvise.
Saber blinked back, then laughed, "Oh, I see. You aren't a mage, are you?"
"Do I look like Harry Houdini to you?" Sophia countered.
"Well, do you believe in magic?" Saber raised a brow in amusement.
"Well, I guess I have to now, don't I?"