Hey everyone!
As promised, I did move over to ao3 on account of the website being a bit safer, although my audience was all over here. That said, I just want to say that I have uploaded a new chapter over there, I use the same author name. For all of you, thank you for sticking around and I hope you will support me moving there. That said, I will still continue to post chapters here, but it probably will be a bit more delayed than on ao3.
Anyway, here it is the next chap!
Arturia opened her eyes to a deep blue, neverending above with a glass-like floor below. Bubbles escaped her lips and traveled downward, escaping through the clear window beneath.
Where am I?
The question echoed through the crystal waters, unanswered.
Confused, the king swayed her bare legs in the current, following the little orbs of air downward. A wall made seemingly of cascading water flowed before her. Through it, an eerily familiar enchanted forest, one that she knew in the back of her mind.
The edge of Camelot.
Her hand reached forward, breaking the image, and she was yanked through.
My king, I offer everything that I was, everything that I am, everything I will be to you.
A head of dark hair bent down to kiss Arturia's fingertips. She nearly flinched when his dark eyes met hers, full of determination and loyalty and something...more.
Sir Lancelot?
He was translucent, skin wispy, as if he could be blown away by a breath, yet there was no mistaking the younger figure of the man before her. She could never forget those dark orbs, those high cheekbones. It was as if he was but a ghost...or a memory.
The image of Camelot's Queen appeared beside her, calling out the knight's name.
Guin?
Sir Lancelot stiffened, his stoic face betraying the slightest grimace, then he bowed and made his way over to Guinevere.
The two figures silently walked toward the stables, their footsteps ghosting over the ground. Lancelot looked back once, met her eyes for more than a moment, then steeled themselves and refocused on the queen.
"Saber."
Arturia blinked, and now before her stood her former master, face blank as Lancelot's was. A quick look around told her she was in the dreamscape from before. Both she and Kiritsugu stood on the surface of the same clear lake. Above them, shards of the sky moved, suspended in the air with black nothingness peeking between the cracks.
Saber heard a familiar laughter, and her view was brought to one of the floating fragments of the sky, where the memory she had been experiencing shone through. Guinevere was smiling, with Lancelot ever stoic by her side. That was the only thing new. Beyond Kiritsugu's shoulder floated her father's crown, just like before.
The woman sighed as she faced the magus killer. Fortunately this time, they were both dressed.
"Kiritsugu," she nodded, "A seal has appeared?"
"That it has." His fingers twitched, as if he was itching for a cigarette, but as he was a visitor to this place he couldn't control a mind that wasn't his. "Let us wait for the others. They should be joining us shortly."
As if on cue, a feminine figure rose from the lake water beside Arturia, her long, braided hair flowing down the side of a white collared blouse. It was Medea.
Her violet eyes met Arturia's, but her tinted lips were silent. Caster sighed as she looked over to Kiritsugu. He and that albino woman had kept their promise. Whatever magic they had used on Souichirou had held true. It was as if Souichirou Kuzuki had never died. He was just as serious as when she had met him, and built exactly the same. She'd double checked to see if any magic was used to alter him in any way, but he was just the same ordinary human that he was before ever getting involved in the Fifth Holy Grail War.
Unfortunately, that also meant that Caster would have to uphold her end of the bargain and follow Saber's lead. No matter what the others said about her being evil, Caster still did have an honor code. Though the thought of leaving Kuzuki alone so soon did break her heart a little, all she could do now was make sure she came home.
Beside Medea appeared an equally beautiful tanned woman with darker hair. She appeared in a skin-tight, black outfit with a similarly colored black scarf around her neck. She was followed by the familiar hulking mass that was Heracles, and lastly, another one with long, violet hair, Sasaki Kojirou.
Kiritsugu waited til he had their attention to speak.
"The first seal has shown itself, and in the middle of the desert, of all places. Modern-day Persia," said Kiritsugu.
All eyes went to the female Assassin standing in their midst. Kiritsugu gave the servants a quick glance and almost sighed. They couldn't have had a worse group. Most of them had armor unsuited for the heat and sand. As it stood, only the Assassin could possibly complete the mission with ease. Kiritsugu himself hated missions in the desert. There were always too few places to hide, mornings were scorching, nights were freezing, and there was the imminent threat of dehydration to think about, not to mention the numerous poisonous critters just waiting for a bared ankle.
It didn't matter though. It couldn't. It was imperative that they complete the mission at all costs. They were heroic spirits, surely some way they could adjust in the heat.
"Remember, the mission requires that you destroy the seal completely, using whatever means necessary. Any other result equals failure."
A few nods around the room.
"If it's so simple as destroying a seal, surely the King of Knights would suffice. Why send us all?" asked Sasaki, eyeing the multitude of Servants before him.
Kiritsugu inhaled, long and slow. He tilted his head back, wondering how best to explain. He was hoping he wouldn't have to, and the Servants would learn on their own.
"The Grail...it has its own person, so to speak. I am certain it will employ certain defense mechanisms the only way it knows how," Kiritsugu drawled. He was counting on the Servants' natural affinity for helping the world, otherwise, without any other means to fight in the real world, humanity was quite frankly, doomed.
"I trust you will be able to find your own way there, and soon. The seal must be destroyed before it has the chance to fully integrate itself into the world. At the rate it is going, I believe that gives you seven days."
WIth nothing left to be said, Arturia watched her fellow servants disappear one after the other, til only Kiritsugu was left with her.
"What is it you are keeping from us, Emiya?"
The magus killer looked at her with eyes as dark as the void seeping through the cracks above. He didn't grace her with a response.
…
Fear was a mongrel's feeling.
Gilgamesh was arguably the most powerful heroic spirit to ever grace the Holy Grail War. From the day his feet touched upon the Earth, he was the strongest who ever walked it. The gods knew. His subjects knew. His enemies knew it better than anyone else. The King of Heroes was formidable. His name, revered by anyone who dared to hear it. He'd conquered many lands, decimated armies, slain magic beasts with power unfathomable while barely breaking a sweat. Mere mortals could never hold a candle to the things he's done. Those mongrels could only accept their pitiful fate whilst cowering in the corners.
Fear was a mongrel's feeling.
And yet, Gilgamesh could feel the bile in his throat rising as he took in Arturia's limp figure, slumped to the floor with blood trickling down her face. His heart hammered at his chest as if trying to break free from its cage and his fingers went limp.
He barely registered the glass shards digging into his knees as he checked her pulse.
"Shit." His hands were useless, he was so agitated all he could feel was his own frantic heartbeat. He lay his head on her chest, listening, begging, for the steady beating of her heart.
Ba-dump...ba-dump...ba-dump.
He felt his own heartbeat ease, and his own breathing slow. She was alive. For the first time in millennia, the ancient king felt like thanking the gods, but that thought quickly disappeared as he swiped off a trickle of blood before it reached her eyes.
The old king thought to destroy the distasteful coffee table that did this to her forehead, but decided against it. It was best for her and his knees to get out of the shards of glass. Like one would lift a princess, blonde slipped his arms behind her knees and below her back, and lay her down on the first bed he found.
His...concern for her well-being startled him. If he was this affected by a simple fainting spell, then what did that mean for him? Red eyes went to the now cleaned cut on her forehead to the small, darkening spots of blood between his fingernails. Perhaps this woman had more influence over him than he thought.
Ha! As expected of her.
…
The piercing sound of broken glass struck Kay's ears as he stepped off on the twenty-fifth floor.
Arturia.
The knight veered left as fast as his legs would go. The door swung open with such ferocity, the collision snapped the doorknob right off. But stingy, silver-tongued Kay cared for nothing else but his sister. He felt something crush under his weight and looked to find a small grape. His eyes then landed on the remains of a glass bowl and...blood on the corner of his coffee table.
Frantic eyes darted across the room til they landed on her bedroom door, slightly ajar, and an unfamiliar figure. Kay could barely feel the longsword in his grip when he took a strike straight for the man's head.
Metal clashed with metal before the lawyer could land the blow. Confused, the knight looked up to see a trident protruding from a golden portal.
A SERVANT?!
A low, animalistic screech bellowed from his throat.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY SISTER!?"
The stranger glared but said nothing, and instead pulled the covers up to Arturia's steadily rising and falling chest. In his periphery, the knight of Camelot registered what looked like a damp washcloth and a piece of gauze.
"You will not speak to me in that tone henceforth, mongrel, or I swear, I will relieve your pathetic excuse of a body of its tongue. Are we clear?" the stranger warned.
"I only answer to her!"
"And it is for that reason only that I do not kill you where you stand," said Gilgamesh who cocked his head to the right.
Kay gulped as he noticed the golden dagger grazing his neck. It was protruding out of a different, smaller golden portal. He was too blinded with emotion to notice. Whoever this Servant was, he wasn't to be taken lightly. With a heavy heart, the knight let his sword clatter to the floor.
"Ready to talk, mongrel?"
…
The four small indents in his hand contrasted so starkly against the fair skin of his palm, as red paint on white canvas would.
Diarmuid lay on his new bed, new to him, at least, and examined the little welts his fingernails had left.
What...was that? An episode?
He'd forgotten about them til he'd seen blood red in the shower drain, but the marks as they were, were hard to ignore. Diarmuid considered bandaging them, but if he did so, he wouldn't see them.
That time in the café, he hadn't felt such rage since the day Saber's master had done what he did. That moment, he wanted nothing but to rip Fionn's corpse from his grave and tear thebastardshandsoffanDSHOVETHEMUPFIONN'S—
He sat up abruptly, feeling sweat drip from his forehead.
For the second time that evening, Diarmuid got in the shower. He would not sleep that evening, no matter how many dishcloths he'd tied around his hands.
...
Saber shot up like a bullet, with their new mission in mind. She had to find the others posthaste. They had a week to do what was demanded of them but who knew how strong those seals would be. Surely, Kiritsugu wouldn't call on so many of them for no reason.
"You've awoken."
Gilgamesh's voice.
Arturia's eyes focused on the man standing in the doorway of what she supposed was her new bedroom, if its emptiness meant anything.
"Yes, ah—" Saber's hand immediately went to the side of her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Gil shift, almost uncomfortably. There was a foreign expression in his eyes. For just a moment she swore she saw something other than pride.
Was that...guilt?
Her studying of his expression was not unnoticed, and quickly the King of Heroes sought to distract her.
"The mongrel is asleep in the living room. And after all that talk…" he said, shaking his head.
Kay. Arturia thought. He must have returned while she was asleep. The woman swung her legs to the side of the bed and collected herself. They had to leave soon.
"What did your mongrel master say?" asked the King of Heroes as he turned to give her way.
"The first seal appears tomorrow evening. And in….Iran. Kay, do you have a bag I could borrow?" Arturia said, spotting her brother on the couch.
Iran?
Gilgamesh watched his future woman rush back into the bedroom, bickering with her brother. The walk-in closet at the far end, which Kay had just filled with clothes Merlin provided for Arturia, was pulled open and as she sifted through its contents, it seemed to him the little king was hoping that they would fit.
Though the thought of watching her undress was delectable, the King of Heroes had several other things on his mind. For instance, why it was that he wasn't selected for this particular assignment when he was obviously the most capable. There was also the matter of the desert, which Arturia was hardly accustomed to. If that mongrel of a master had any sort of intellectual capability, he would have sent the King of Heroes.
"Gilgamesh."
The man looked up to meet her eyes. What a sight she was, with her blouse pulled down by her creamy shoulders. He'd barely seen a little skin and already he could feel the excitement inside of him grow in anticipation. But the King of Knights, face tinted pink as it was, clearly wanted something else, if those fierce eyes were any indication. No matter, they had time on earth for him to see even more, he thought, as he closed the door behind him. Besides, the mere sound of fabric hitting the floor was satisfying enough in itself.
"It's imperative I convene with the others at once. We have to leave immediately," Arturia voiced, coming out in an even more modest outfit, with long, loose white sleeves and a plain pair of slacks. She made her way to the door while expertly putting her hair up in a ponytail and hooked a small back bag over her shoulder. A quiet hiss escaped her mouth as the gesture let her clip the cut on her forehead.
"And just how exactly do you plan to do that, Arty? I do not remember Merlin ever teaching you any transportation spells." Kay shut the door just as Arturia was leaving.
"The same way the humans these days go about."
"And what of everyone else's required documents? Passports?"
"Already taken care of. I just...have to visit Shirou's."
The older knight had completely forgotten her relationship with Shirou. The ginger lad was an acquaintance. They'd met after Merlin insisted on visiting Rin Tohsaka when more of the Table had begun appearing along with a good amount of others. The old spellcaster told him of their relationship and they'd crossed paths a couple times since, but Kay wasn't sure how much Arturia knew about Shirou. Surely he'd told her already right?
Arturia took advantage of Kay's distraction to head out the door, with Gilgamesh a few steps behind. It suddenly occurred to the english warrior that they'd barely had time for each other and yet here she was again, walking away from him.
"Arty, please, you just got here. I don't want you going off like this."
He couldn't lose her again. Not after what happened back then. Not after what he did.
"You dishonor your king by doubting her," Gilgamesh said sharply, as he turned once to seethe at the mongrel.
Kay froze at the doorway.
The few steps it took her to reach the elevator, Arturia could hear her brother gently close the door and a soft thump as he leaned against it, as he often would do after he and their father had an argument.
She had missed him. Even during the Grail War she thought often about her brother, though it had been centuries since they'd bonded. Still, she couldn't afford to lose any more time.
"That was hardly necessary," she lectured, aware of her similarly blonde shadow. He just smirked, as it was wont of him to do.
The numbers above the elevator doors lit up in increasing order, counting down precious seconds of time she should be spending destroying the seal. Finally, the doors opened and she stepped through.
Gilgamesh was about to do the same, when he felt a small palm pressing on his chest.
"Kiritsugu didn't mention you. He said only we were allowed to fight."
"Ridiculous. What was the point of the mongrel bringing us all here then? I'm coming with you."
His fingers curled around hers to pull the obstructing hand away, but she wouldn't budge. The man opened his mouth to protest, but no words left his lips. He couldn't speak, not when she was looking at him like that, not when they were this close. The mere inches between them let him see the few specks of yellow that resided in her emerald eyes, the tiny, almost unnoticeable freckles just under her long, delicate lashes. Her breath was warm and sweet on his skin.
"Stay out of this, Gilgamesh. Please."
And just like that, the moment was stolen away by a simple bell chime. The double doors began to close, and her fingers slipped from his.
Gilgamesh was left staring at two steel doors, wondering whether or not he should still follow.
…
"Saber? Wha-what are you doing here this late at night?"
Rin answered the door in a white nightgown, her long, dark hair out of its usual half-updo. Arturia heard frantic shuffling around the house and a few curses from Shirou before the ginger lad appeared at the doorway.
"Saber, I thought you texted you just moved in to your brother's?"
Hoping the night concealed the heat on the tips of her ears, Saber cocked an eyebrow. So much for her being welcome at the Emiya mansion any time. But, perhaps it really was late. Shirou never let his hair get so disheveled (though he still looked quite handsome), nor did Rin. Arturia tried to peek around them, but they seemed glued to the door.
"...May I come in?"
The pair flinched.
"Oh, about that, Saber. The house is quite messy right now, and I would rather you not come in."
Saber peeked over Rin's shoulder to see a few shoes and discarded socks scattered around, but it was no bother.
"I assure you, I wouldn't mind," Saber reasoned, but it only seemed to make the two magi more agitated.
"No, really. Is-Is there something we can do for you?" Rin offered.
The King of Knights sighed, and explained what Kiritisugu had told them. She requested the documents for the other Servants that they had all been working on since their arrival. Arturia was sure she had one for each of the servants present when they convened with Kiritsugu. Hopefully, they would accept the new identities she and the magi worked so hard to fabricate
"All these, Saber?"
"All of them," she replied, taking the stack of documents and passports and slipping them into her bag. "I promise to repay your kindness, Rin," she said, holding up the red wallet she was given, which probably contained lots of cash and several credit cards.
"Wha- well, will you be alright then?" Rin asked, struggling to keep up with the shorter woman as she made her way out of the compound.
"Kiritsugu said we have a week to destroy the seals. I am meeting with the others at the Fuyuki Airport. Goodbye, Shirou, Rin," she nodded curtly.
The couple watched their mutual friend hurry into the night and prayed she'd find a ride even out here in the provincial half of Fuyuki. Rin berated herself for wishing Saber gone so badly and for the way she had sent her off, but she couldn't be more relieved that the petite king was out of sight.
"We have to tell her, Shirou," Rin reasoned, hearing the light padding of footsteps coming from the spare room.
Shirou ran his hand through his rapidly greying hair, hoping to the heavens for the right time and place to come. The entire time Saber had spent with them, they'd danced around the topic like idiots, too afraid to break the news. But they would get to it soon. When Saber returned. Definitely.
"Mom...Dad? I had a bad dream. Can I sleep with you tonight?"
"Of course you can, Hoseki. Come, now," replied Rin as she scooped up her sleepy daughter. She and Shirou locked eyes and sighed. Looks like even after dodging confrontation with Saber, they couldn't continue their little game after all.
...
Saber arrived at the airport second, surprised to see Sasaki there waiting in the airport lobby. She was grateful he'd chosen more casual clothes to wear, but his long hair still caught the occasional eye.
"Greetings, sword-wielder," said he, offering her a friendly bow, which she returned.
"I didn't know you were staying nearby," she said, handing the samurai spirit his respective documents. She changed his name, for though it was not uncommon to be named after a legend in this country, it might have been suspicious to have both names. She hoped that he was amenable to the other information she and Shirou made up.
"You could say I had little interest in going elsewhere. I did originate in this country after all," he replied, directing Arturia's attention to where Medea was saying her goodbyes to a stoic Soichirou Kuzuki.
The King of Knights felt a slight pang in her heart remembering how distantly Shirou had just treated her, and how odd her former master had been since she arrived. She banished the thought. There were more important matters to be dealing with now, she reasoned, just in time for the humongous greek hero to arrive.
"Medea. Heracles. These are yours. Our flight leaves in two hours, and apparently we've a connecting flight after that. We'll arrive tomorrow evening, if all goes well, with more than enough time to destroy the seal," Saber explained.
"I do not...see any reasoning behind us specifically being picked for this mission," Heracles remarked, sneaking glances on the papers of the witch Medea. He didn't feel like he was forty-five, nor did he think Hercules Grecia was the most appropriate name, but there was nothing more he could do.
"Neither did I. I don't even see the compatibility, given our talents are so diverse," added the newcomer, the female Assassin. Saber's eyes widened at the beautiful amber of her eyes, and the soft curve of her face. Assassin was dressed so ordinarily that the King of Knights hadn't noticed her presence til the woman spoke up. The woman took two files from Arturia, nodding approvingly at their names. Zayd for her partner. Zhavia for herself.
"It matters not, now does it?" interjected the lovely spellcaster, Medea, "The sooner this is finished the sooner we can get back to whatever in Olympus' name we were doing. I don't know about the rest of you, but I am not keen on wasting another life.
…
Heracles was a fearsome opponent. He possessed strength beyond all men, strength so potent it could bring him back from his own death multiple times. In all his years on Earth he'd toiled, slaying all that he had to and offering it up to his father. He was, in many ways hardened by battle, molded into one strong as a force of nature.
However, the forces of nature acting upon him right now several feet up in the air, he was hardly prepared for. Zeus help the poor, tiny men who had the misfortune of having their entire leg space taken up by the massive piece of nauseous meat Heracles Grecia was. The gods only knew if that tiny paper bag in his hands was enough to hold the three bentos worth of undigested food Arturia had purchased for him back at the airport.
A row behind, the petite king contemplated buying the huge man an entire row for himself next time, for poor Zayd and Sasaki were nearly suffocating.
"Would you perhaps know of a spell for motion sickness, Medea?"
The woman beside her smirked. "Bold of you to assume it was not I who caused it in the first place."
She snapped her fingers and just like that, Heracles begun to relax. Much to the relief of his seatmates. Arturia stifled a chuckle, which earned her a tiny smile from the Caster.
"What have you been up to these days, Medea?" she asked, truly curious. Besides tea and walks with Diarmuid and the occasional unwanted visit from the King of Heroes, she'd neither seen nor heard about the Servants.
"I didn't think you'd be so comfortable speaking with me right away."
Considering that Gilgamesh of all people was the reason she and Shirou were able to escape Medea's clutches with Sakura safely in their care, of course Medea would think that. However horrible the circumstances were before though, they were on the same side of the war now.
"Is there reason to bear any ill will?" Arturia asked, with the rare teasing smirk tugging on her lips.
"...Dressmaking," the woman answered, her cheeks pinking just the slightest bit.
"Unexpected," Arturia said, cocking an eyebrow, "but not unwelcome. I was not aware the great Medea had the skills of a seamstress."
Caster chuckled. It seemed whatever animosity there was between them had gone. The past? Swept under the rug.
"It was one of the ways I passed the time in the old days. My master has gone back to teaching, so I needed another way to make myself useful to him. I haven't made any sales but I'm sure they'll come in time," said the great magus.
Soichirou Kuzuki, the man that granted Caster her wish before the Holy Grail War ever reached its completion, and perished along with her. Or, he should have. He was by no means a Heroic Spirit nor a magus. Yet, by some miracle, Kiritsugu had managed to pluck his soul from purgatory and place him back in Fuyuki so that Caster would agree to come on this mission.
"I theorize the Grail really did store him away, for no matter what tests I run, he really appears to be the same person. It's uncanny," answered Medea, to the question plaguing everyone's minds.
"And you, pretty king?"
Arturia wondered whether or not it would be a good idea to answer, especially when she believed she couldn't keep the job if she tried, Merlin be damned. She was about as fit for modelling as a shoe fit a fish. Especially now, looking at the two gorgeous women she was seated with, she felt more than a little out of place in that kind of industry. Zhavia, especially, with those beautiful hazel eyes and exquisite facial features. Now, she looked like she could be the face of magazines. It was a shame she hid that face behind a skull mask all those years.
"I've recently found a job. An odd one, definitely," was the reply Arturia settled with.
"And your master?"
Arturia was once again reminded of Shirou's treatment of her. It was more than unsettling, when not long ago he was kissing her fervently, wishing on every star that she could stay. She could almost feel the heat from his arms back when he'd helped her make dinner, feel the way his breath would tickle her neck, make her hair stand on end.
"Why do you ask?" she said, barely over a whisper.
"Last we met in the war, you didn't seem to have a normal relationship. I would know," she said pointedly. "In fact, I was expecting to see him with you today."
If Arturia was anything less than a king, she would have given up the perfect posture and slumped in her seat, sighing away a bruised heart like a half-drunk lad who'd lost the favor of his lady. But, she was what she was, and that was not what was expected of her.
"...He's in good health, but we haven't had the chance to talk as much."
Even though Arturia spoke with the same pleasant smile, anyone who really looked could tell it wasn't genuine. It seemed the it heroines had nothing more to talk about, and the polite smiles and pleasantries faded into the quiet humming of the plane engine.
One seat ahead, the samurai smiled.
…
Miles and miles away, Diarmuid O'Dyna had given up on sleep completely. But a few minutes ago, the sun peeked over the horizon to find him still staring down at his palms. He might have been sitting on his bed but whatever it was that granted people rest had surely missed his doorstep.
He was right about not getting a wink, and only hoped Merlin or whoever his new boss was that they would not fuss too much about the dark bags under his eyes. His reflection, for one, was quite disappointed.
Diarmuid glided the tiny plastic razor slowly down his cheek, and got rid of the excess shaving cream on the blade before starting on the other side. He'd never cease to be amazed at the advancements in technology brought about by the age of man. Such a clean shave was only dreamt of back in his day. Men either wore stubble, or let their beards grow. As he finished off his cheek, he silently thanked Arturia's old master for teaching him how to use these little devices. He didn't nick himself this time.
Dry, red flecks swirled down the sink drain as Diarmuid rinsed his face. Ah, right. There was the matter of the red marks his fingernails left on his palms. He'd be sure not to show that to Merlin either. The knight patted down his chin and ran the towel through his wavy hair.
At the very least, he'd see Arturia again today. It always lifted his mood, being with her.
"She left?"
Why didn't she say anything?
"My theory is that she didn't think it would be so important, Mr. Diarmuid," answered what would have been the equivalent of the woman in question's godfather.
The fair-haired man did, in fact, fuss over Diarmuid's eyebags and the small welts in his palms. Not a great way to start his career.
"Merlin," Kay warned, knowing the mage was just being catty because Arturia had come and gone so soon, a feeling Kay definitely shared. But it was no use taking it out on RTK's newest recruit. The guy was obviously just as upset, perhaps even more so. No amount of rainbow-hair flipping succubus tantrums was going to change anything, so Merlin should really just drop it. The mage was so red in the face, it looked like he was about to stomp those pretty brown oxfords like a whining child.
"Arty has a ridiculously strong, and infuriating, sense of duty. In that, at times, she's got tunnel vision," Kay offered, not really sure why he bothered comforting the new model. Merlin was roughly swishing a pound of concealer under his eyes, grumbling as he went, and was sure to busy the guy with enough coverage to mask the exhaustion.
However, the knight recognized that solemn look on the Irishman's face. It was one Kay had seen in his reflection for a very, very long time. It didn't matter how many times he'd sloshed away his reflection in the bathing pools back in Camelot, nor how many days he'd checked himself in the mirror once he had made his way to Fuyuki. It was always in his eyes.
The Rolex on his wrist told him he really should be going, so he picked up some more of Diarmuid's signed forms and made his way to the elevator. At the very end of the hallway, he came across one of his first prints on the cover of RTK. Sure enough, there it was again, with the same kind of loneliness in both his eyes. It was a hit with his fanbase, he was even famous for them, but to Kay, he only ever believed he looked guilty.
Guilty for never truly supporting his only sibling in the pursuit of her destiny. Guilty for allowing her to throw away her life for the good of everyone else. Guilty for leaving his beloved sister when she needed him most.
He just took what he owned and ran.
Now, as he stood alone behind the elevator doors, he couldn't help but think he was abandoning her again. He believed in her strength, he did. He was witness to it a thousand times over, and he knew she could handle herself as she always had. Merlin's clairvoyance hadn't seen anything disturbing either, otherwise the wizard would have said something, but for the first time in years he felt worried.
This new life was his chance to repent. Repent for the faults he dealt her all those years ago. He prayed he would at least have the chance.
He gave a glance to the papers in his hands, papers that would aid in legitimizing Diarmuid's life here. In his briefcase were Arturia's. Just last night he'd met the first of all heroes. Perhaps it was time he paid the Emiya's a visit. He may not have been able to go with Arturia this time, but if he could help her...friends?
Bollocks. Hopefully this wouldn't cost him his job.
...
Arturia picked at the black scarf Zhavia fastened securely over her head, completing the look of the locals. How and where Zhavia had retrieved these, Arturia would never know.
It provided protection from the arid climate, but no matter how much skin she'd hidden under the layers of clothing she'd been given, somehow the sun found ways to seep between the folds and scorch her arms.
"Hair and eyes like yours are not that common here," she explained, fastening her own in the bathroom mirror. "The witch's dark hair would pass, but-"
"I am not a witch!" the woman hissed, earning her a few looks from passers-by.
"Apologies," hushed Zhavia, as she huddled the two alliens close to her. "Medea's hair would pass, but the culture here is quite conservative. It's best we respect the customs so that we can reach our destination without much fuss."
Walking just a little ahead of them, were their three "husbands", donning certain headdresses the other Assassin procured. All but Zayd were similarly uncomfortable due to the heat, and they wondered just how long it would take til the sun gave it a rest.
"When your master told us the location of the seal, I was able to visualize the way there without much difficulty," Zhavia mentioned, watching her fellow assassin negotiate for a travel van that could take them most of the way there. "Is there any reason at all that the seal appears in the True Assassin's birthplace?"
"You pertain to the original Hassan-i-Sabbah?" Kojirou Sasaki chimed in, directing the three women towards their new travel van.
"The great da'i, yes. We are only one of the nineteen who have ever had the honor of being called the same name moniker as the original "Old Man of the Mountain"," she replied, closing the van doors behind them. Heracles got into the driver's seat, with Zayd right beside him, and they were off.
Though the air conditioning was doing its best, it seemed to Arturia that the heat was seeping through the glass of the windows. Outside was land she'd never laid eyes on before. Sand everywhere, more warm of a color than the kind on the shores of her old kingdom, and strange shrubs and trees she'd only read about. The buildings were wide and painted in fair tones, much unlike the compact houses they had to keep in the heat. Their temples were elaborate, exhibiting such precise geometry, and all seemed to be facing the east. Different, but quite beautiful.
"Are you all right?" asked the japanese samurai, her acting "husband" if any of the locals ever wanted to know. His cheeks were reddening just as hers were, and sweat shone on his forehead. She nodded, wiping away the beads of salt collecting on her brow. The heat was brutal, and with no sign of any clouds in the sky, the Servants had no relief to look forward to.
The taller buildings slowly turned to simple settlements, and then to dry farms and small houses, and soon Zayd directed them under a small tree to park. By that time, the sun was orange, dipping below the horizon as they exited the car, and to Arturia's surprise and relief, the temperature was dropping. However, the sunset meant they'd already used up their first day. Though there were six more left, Arturia had a feeling they needed all that time.
Zhavia said she was being led just a bit further up ahead, to a mountain with more vegetation then the town they'd passed, and very soon the servants came upon a clearing between cliffs, with shadowy trees to the side and huge boulders littering the sandy terrain.
"Are we certain this is the place?"
No sooner had he spoken did Arturia feel her veins burn with a surge of magic. She gasped as she felt her mana spike, the familiar power washing over her like the holy waters of the Lady of the Lake. Excalibur materialized in her hand, shining bright gold in the dusk, her fingers tingling from the touch. Just under her skin she could feel the soft growl of the prana dragon inside of her, low like an engine just put into ignition.
Kiritsugu had lifted the limitation on their powers, so it seemed. They were in the right place.
When she looked up, however, she noticed all the other Servants, save the assassins in their skull masks, were dressed differently. Medea's normal hood as Caster was now a midnight coat that seemed to blend into the dark. Heracles, with his large axe-sword in hand, wore a black hood over his warrior garbs. Even Kojirou, who fought in the traditional umanori hakama and kimono, replaced the indigo with the color of night.
It was Arturia who surprised herself, her armor nearly non-existent, replaced by a long navy scarf and dark garbs that gave her little protection.
Suddenly, it seemed all the fauna was silenced, not even the wind's quiet whispers dared. Confused green eyes swept the clearing, but there was nothing she could see. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, her mouth was dry. She knew there was something out there, there had to be.
"Medea, move!"
Aaaaaand that's it for now. This is actually half of a chapter that I decided to split up so you will probably see the next chapter in a few days!
Thanks! I hope you find the time to tell me what you think! :)
-akampana
