A Moon's Reflection

by TheArrowblackcabary

An ending often leads to a new beginning, and even the most tragic end can give way to a happy beginning. Shirou Emiya has been reborn and must now live in a world where gods and monsters still exist. This is the story of the impact one person had on the world around them, while on her quest to not only find a new purpose in life, but to also make peace with who she is. [GenBend]

8. A collision with the moon

Atalanta's POV

---

"What'd you want to see first?" Dad asked me as we walked through the museum.

The museum was mostly empty, possibly because it was very early in the morning. It was so early that the museum only opened half an hour ago. The morning sunlight was barely visible through the skylights above my head.

"I don't really care," I shrugged from my father's side. "This is your idea; why don't you choose?"

"You have to make everything difficult, don't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Atalanta, just relax and enjoy life," Dad said while looking down on me.

I looked at him before looking away from his puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," I responded, and then I looked around the museum.

There were several temporary signs around us. Each of the signs leads to a different one of the temporary exhibits.

The museum was hosting traveling exhibits based on ancient Egypt.

The signs pointed towards exhibits on Egyptian weapons, architecture, deities, and pharaohs.

"Let's go look at the weapons," I started to walk towards that exhibit.

"Sounds like fun!" Dad followed after me, a huge grin on his face.

"It seems like it would be more fun than learning about dead old guys."

"Of course, learning about the dead is less fun! I mean, weapons are cool and awesome," Dad responded while a nostalgic look formed on his face.

"Thinking about old times?" I asked him while looking up at him.

"Yeah," Dad smiled slightly, remembering some far-away memory. "I was just thinking about the first time I used a sword."

My father and I entered the exhibit as he finished saying that. There was only one person in the exhibit. Said person was a child a few years younger than me. The boy had dark skin and brown eyes. He was wearing a grey shirt and dress pants. The child was sitting on a bench between two of the displays, reading a book. The book had an Egyptian symbol on it, but that was the only thing that I could make out.

The boy looked up from his book as we entered the room. At first, he looked at my father until he turned and looked at me. For some reason, his cheeks went red; then, he quickly hid in his book.

"Did you stab your eye out?"

"Nope, I was actually a natural," Dad responded with a hint of pride.

"Really?" I asked in slight disbelief.

"Is that really so surprising?" Dad asked with a slightly hurt inflection.

"I've seen you with a kitchen knife. If your sword skills are equal to your skills with a kitchen knife, then you're only a threat to yourself."

"I'm not bad with a kitchen knife; I'm just bad at cutting food."

"Tell yourself whatever you to sleep at night, Dad."

Dad slumped slightly before looking around the room. "What do you want to look at first?"

I looked around the room while ignoring the boy.

The room was huge and housed at least twenty displays, at least from what I could see.

Each one was dedicated to different weapons from throughout Egyptian history.

I started to walk towards the display on Egyptian swords, or khopesh specifically. There were several other displays on different types of swords from Egypt, but this one was the closest.

"What do you think about these swords?" I asked my family member as he looked at the exhibit with me.

"It's pretty cool," Dad said while looking down on the case holding the weapons. "They didn't have swords like this back home."

He was careful not to mention his past life, despite the fact that we were basically the only people in this part of the museum. Exact for the young boy hiding in his book across the room.

"Hm, do you think these Egyptian swords are better than Greek ones?"

"No weapon is any better than any."

I twitched slightly as he said that—painful memories of my fight against the saber card user.

I would like to see him say that after seeing Excalibur.

Huh… I realized something as I looked over one of the swords.

The information Unlimited Blade Works should have recorded from the Egyptian sword wasn't there. I focused on the bottom-most sword, my pupils constricting, then I felt the weapon being analyzed.

This sword was a new replica, created to show off the Egyptian Khopesh without having to deal with the risks associated with a real one. If this blade was stolen, then it wouldn't be a huge financial loss. And its dulled blade prevents it from being used as a weapon.

None of these facts matter to me, though. What I want to know is why didn't Unlimited Blade Works automatically trace the sword.

I looked away from the replica and looked at the words written next to it.

Or what should have been words?

The text was completely jumbled up, even worse than normal. And trying to read it was causing my head to hurt.

"Is everything alright?" Dad asked me as I grabbed my head.

"Yeah," I shook my head as I tried to reread the words, to no avail. "Greek demigod's minds are hardwired for Greek, right?"

"That's what your mother said," he responded in a low tone that matched my own.

I see… Unlimited Blade Works is a reflection of my mind and soul. Any changes to them would be reflected in my reality marble, changes like my mind and soul being hardwired for Greek.

When I first tried my tracing, I found that Greek weapons came to my mind first. Now it seems that the inverse is true. Non-Greek weapons need me to actually focus on them to be traced.

No, that's not right. It's not non-Greek weapons that are an issue; it's weapons that are part of a different pantheon. Neutral weapons, like butter knives, haven't changed.

It seems that there is a drawback to tracing weapons that belong to different groups. I wonder if the words being scrambled are the only ones.

But wait a minute, that doesn't make sense. I can still trace weapons that are distinctly part of other traditions in this past. So why is my mind acting up now?

I blinked… what was I thinking about again?

"Why don't you sit down while I go get you some water?"

"What?" I asked my father.

It felt as if the meaning of his words was lost on me, as if he were speaking a different language. But his words clicked after a moment.

"Sorry," I said while shaking my head.

"I'm going to get you some water; you stay here."

"I don't need you to do that," I waved him off after a moment.

"Yes, you do. I'll be right back," he said before walking away. "Stay here, ok."

Dad walked away, not listening to my protest.

I crossed my arms as he left the room, my eyes strained as I tried to read again. Some of the words were finally starting to make sense.

I was starting to develop a headache. I took my eyes off the display and turned around.

It felt as if my mind was a program that only accepted numeral inputs and was being forced to accept letters. And that was causing a cascading meltdown.

Maybe reading something that is a correct input could help my mind sort itself out.

I placed one hand on my backpack strap. I looked around the room.

There was only one place to sit, which was on the bench the boy was sitting on. The bench was large enough to fit at least four adults, and the kid was seated on the far-right side of the bench. It left far more than enough room for me to sit.

I walked towards the bench while pulling my backpack around, allowing me to reach into it.

Placing my hand inside the bag, I pulled out a gift from my mother. It was a book written in ancient Greek or translated into it. Her goal was probably to introduce me to ancient Greek.

It's frustrating. Reading any language that isn't Greek is extremely hard for me, but it's not like I can instantly read Greek. At least it's easier to learn than English.

Especially with the book Mom gave me.

I pulled the book out of my backpack as I reached the bench. I sat on the left side of the bench while placing my backpack on the floor.

The boy looked at me, and I just ignored him.

I opened the book, Wildlife Across the World.

It almost caused me to sigh. I've honestly grown sick of getting this type of book from Mom, but at least this book will be useful in teaching me ancient Greek.

Apparently, Mom made this book with the help of the goddess Hestia.

According to Mom, Hestia works with some of the other gods to write these books for their children. Each one is based on the interest of the Godly parent because all children's interests match their parents.

I shifted slightly as I opened the book to the last page I was on.

I would've preferred a book on recipes from Ancient Greek over another book about wildlife. But I couldn't bring myself to tell Mom that, especially when she told me that most gods don't make these books for their kids.

I started to read the book, having reached my previous page.

The text at the top read, Léon, which was Greek for lion. One corner of the page had a mythological picture of a lion lying on the floor next to a king. The pages were divided by several sub-titles that divide the information between biological, cultural, and mythological information related to lions.

My headache lessened as I read the pages on lions. I went through the pages slowly, taking my time to make sure I understood as much as possible.

The biological and cultural information didn't really interest me. It was all extremely basic information.

My interest was peaked by the mythological section, which only included information on lions in regard to Greek mythology.

Yet, there was no information on the original Atalanta.

Mom said that she wrote this book with Hestia's help, so why would she leave out something so important to herself?

I wonder if she feels guilty for what happened to Atalanta, or did Atalanta anger her?

Maybe I'll ask Mom next time she visits.

By the time I got to the end of the section on lions, my headache was gone.

I wonder if I can read English again.

Closing my book, I placed it back into my backpack. I got up and moved towards the nearby display, leaving my backpack on the floor.

I read the display on spears, taking care not to look at the spears themselves.

The text was as readable as it should've been.

"What are you doing?" the boy asked me, looking up from his book.

I glanced at him, "What does it look like?"

The boy withered under my gaze, "I don't know, you just looked like you were concentrating really hard… Do you need help?"

"No, I don't need your help," I shuffled slightly.

I would rather struggle to read than have a little kid do it for me.

"Yes, Ma'am."

I cringed slightly, "don't say that."

"say what?" the child asked innocently.

"Ma'am," I answered while glaring at him.

The brown-eyed boy shifted slightly under my glare, "Um… why?"

"Because I told you to."

"But my Dad said I should respect girls."

"Then you should do as I say."

"Ok," the boy responded with a quiet, defeated voice.

I turned away from him and went back to reading the display, content to ignore the kid.

"Have you gone to the building section yet? It's really cool!"

But the kid wasn't content to leave me alone.

"No, I guess I'll go look at it," I told him while turning towards the entrance to the exhibit.

I had no interest in going to the exhibit, but I didn't feel like talking to the kid. Besides, I need to go look for Dad; he's been gone for a long time. He's probably lost in the museum, trying to find his way back here.

"Aren't you going to wait for your Dad?"

"No," I responded as I walked away, not looking back at the kid.

Turning around would just invite him to continue this conversation.

It's not that I disliked the kid in any way; in fact, I was indifferent to him. I just feel compelled to leave this room. Probably caused by my ADHD acting up, wanting something interesting to focus on.

Walking out of the gallery of weapons, I made my way back up the hall I had previously walked down with my Dad.

It was quiet… too quiet.

My nose started to twitch as I reached the cross-section between the exhibits.

The air suddenly smelt like sand. It was an ancient and potent smell.

I suddenly yawned… Hmm, well, it's not my problem.

My eyes suddenly grew heavy; my mind suddenly started to shut down.

A nap sounds nice…

No.

I managed to gather all my willpower just before I lost consciousness.

Using the little time that I had left, I opened my magic circuits and started to convert my od into magical energy. I then spread the magical energy throughout my body, purging myself of any foreign influences.

I could still smell the source of the magical energy, but it wasn't making me tired anymore.

No, that isn't accurate. The source of the magical energy wasn't making me tired. Magical energy can't naturally make someone tired. This was the work of a magus or a monster.

I looked at the hallway that led to the magical being. It was the path to the architecture exhibit.

Biting my lip, I ran towards the exhibit.

Several questions came to mind as I ran down the hallway.

Is this the work of a magus or a monster?

If it's a magus, what is their goal?

Knowing mages could range from taking out a rival mage to trying to destroy part of the museum because they don't like it. The goal of a magus would most likely be completely unrelated to me.

The motives of a monster are far easier to guess. According to my parents, monsters mostly hunt demi-gods and the like. Monsters need to be killed as quickly as possible, or they'll just keep trying to kill me.

I reached towards my back, only to find nothing but air.

I turned and looked at my back, only to see nothing there. I must've left my backpack back at the weapons exhibit.

There isn't enough time to go back and get it. The mist should prevent anyone from realizing what's inside my bag. From what my mother told me, the daggers she gave me should look like batons to anyone who can't see through the mist. At the same time, the book she gave me should appear to be in English.

"Trace on."

A single dagger appeared in my left hand.

It was an Azoth blade with a red gem attached to the hilt. The dagger was brimming with magical energy, enough to bring down part of the building if detonated in the right place.

Or I could activate it in someone's chest; the resulting explosion should be more than enough to kill most opponents. Assuming I can get close enough to use it. But this isn't a strategy I want to do against other humans.

Mom is an ancient Greek god; she won't care about me being a murderer. She might even applaud me for defending myself.

Dad wouldn't condemn me for killing someone, but he wouldn't be happy about it. No, it would just make him more concerned about me.

If not killing will put my father at ease, then that's what I'll do.

My eyes widened as I caught the sight of Dad leaning against a wall.

He was sitting on the floor, snoring loudly.

"Dad?!" I called out to him.

What is he doing here?

I came to a stop in front of my father.

He was sleeping peacefully; his breathing was deep and slow. I placed my hand on his forehead; his skin was cold.

My hands started to shake as I removed my hand from his forehead. My breathing grew rapid.

I brought my hands to his eyelids and raised them. He didn't react; his eyes were as glassy as a corpse's.

I threw back my quacking hand quickly, letting my father's eyelid close.

The way he was slumped over… the coldness of his skin… his eyes…

Clank

A loud sound echoed off the hallway walls as I dropped the dagger.

Memories of corpses flashed through my mind.

Thump Thump Thump…

My heart started beating faster as the memory of Kiritsugu's dead body came to mind. The pain and sorrow I felt that morning came flooding out from the depths of my heart.

I placed one hand on the wall my dad's body was leaning against. My other hand covered my mouth.

He isn't dead. My father is alive. I need to calm down. Panicking won't help him.

I slowed my breathing. My hands slowly stopped shaking. I reached down and picked up the traced dagger.

Using Rule Beaker, I could probably break the spell placed on him. But I can't do that. Waking him up will just make this situation far more complicated. He'll feel the need to deal with these magic users alone.

That's unexcitable. I refuse to let him put himself in danger.

I restarted my run towards the source of the magical energy source.

First, I need to figure out whether I'm dealing with a magus, a monster, or something else.

With that information, I'll form a plan.

I was slowing down as I got close to the magical energy.

There were only a couple of yards until I entered the room housing the architecture exhibit.

It was easier to examine the magical energy source at this distance.

My first realization was that there wasn't just one magical signature, but two.

Each one was massive, greater than what a normal magus should have. In terms of sheer size, it was greater than my own when using the archer class card and was even larger than the caster card user. They were both around a quarter of my current maximum magical energy. But they were probably far more skillful at the use of magical energy than me.

I should also expect them to either have potent magical abilities or ancient magecraft.

The magical signatures' scents were surprisingly nice.

Hm, that doesn't mean they won't be hostile, but it does increase the chance of a peaceful resolution.

I slowly made my way down the hallway and into the massive room housing the exhibit.

There were dioramas lining both walls, protected by glass. Each model was based on a different type of Egyptian architecture, ranging from different types of pyramids to the layout of entire cities.

In the middle of the large room was what looked like the shattered remains of an exhibit. There were two men standing in front of it; their backs turned away from the entrance.

The man on the left was tall and extremely buff. He was wearing a nice suit that was far fancier than you would expect at a museum. But many magi are arrogant and show it through their dress, so his clothing didn't surprise me.

The other guy was even taller, but he had a leaner build than his companion. The man's pinstriped suit looked ridiculous when combined with his fedora.

Their appearances weren't the most interesting thing about the men.

One of the skills I inherited from EMIYA was his skills in identifying and examining magic circuits. Even if I've only been able to inherit a small fragment of that skill, it still should be enough to detect magic circuits, especially opened ones.

Yet, I can't detect magi circuits in either of the magi. It's as if they're converting their od into magical energy without having to refine it with their magic circuits, which should be impossible.

Entering the room quietly, I hid behind a pillar just out of the pair's view.

I listened in on the men's conversation as I looked for weak points in the museum's structure.

With how powerful these magi are, I know that I can't beat them in a straight fight. Luckily, it doesn't look like the magi have set up a boundary field to keep anyone out. Instead, they've set up some sort of sleeping spell that was knocking everyone within a certain radius out.

Blowing up part of the museum would attract outside attention, enough to force the magi to focus their efforts on covering everything up.

"You need to stop this, Julius!" The man with a fedora yelled at his companion.

"No, Amos," Julius responded seriously; there was a hint of anger in his voice. "Ruby's seen the future! She's seen the end of the world!"

My hand tightened around my dagger.

"All she's seen is a vision of the future; you've decided it foretells the end of the world. It's not enough to justify reaching out to the sealed gods."

Sealed gods?

They clearly aren't talking about the Greek gods. Are they talking about the Egyptian gods?

"I don't care what you think; I'll do what it takes to protect my family and the world," Julius declared before turning to march out of the room.

"If you continue down this path, then you'll make an enemy of the House of Life."

"I know," the man declared as he charged out the room without looking back.

Amos looked sadly at Julius's fading back.

It seems that the magi aren't trying to attack anyone, but one of them is an idiot.

Hmm, I wonder what the House of Life is…

"I know you're there," Amos said as he turned and looked in my direction.

I swallowed as his magical energy suddenly grew and was directed towards me. My nose started to burn.

Seeing no point in hiding, I walked out from behind the pillar.

The man's eyes widened slightly when he saw me. The sharpness in his eyes faded as I felt him examine me with his eyes. His attention ended up focused on my traced dagger.

"Why don't you put down that knife? I just want to talk," the man said gently.

I looked at the man, thinking about plans to run if he tried to attack me.

"Sure," I shrugged and tossed the dagger to Amos.

The man caught the blade, despite being caught off guard by my actions.

Hopefully, if we break into conflict, I'll be able to detonate the dagger. Worst case scenario, I release that projection and make another.

"What are you doing, miss…."

"Atalanta Moonlit."

"Moonlit. A young girl shouldn't be stalking alone in the darkness. Even non-human ones."

I scowled at the man. The man was instantly able to tell that I was not human. Mom's magical jacket is useless, isn't it?

"How can you tell?" I asked while walking towards the exit, putting it directly behind me.

"I can see the glow of your divinity and the chaos radiating from you."

"Chaos?" I asked as my face contorted into a confused expression.

"Nothing, that's something you shouldn't worry about," the man shook his head; his eyes were suddenly filled with sadness. "Now answer me, where is your guardian, miss Moonlit?"

"My father was knocked out by your spell," I glared at him while clenching my fist.

Amos looked away sheepishly before his eyes suddenly widened. "Was your father the man in the hallway wearing a black t-shirt and jeans?"

"Yes," I responded angrily. "Now tell me what you did to him."

"Don't worry; he'll wake up once I undo the sleeping spell. I've also erased his memory of our encounter."

"Encounter?"

"He stumbled onto me while I was preparing the sleeping spell. He tried to stop me, but I easily knocked him out and wiped his memory."

My glare turned from Amos to the doorway I entered this room from.

Someone needs a lecture about being an idiot, and they're going to get it.

Amos turned towards the broken exhibit and then pulled something out of his pocket. Due to the way he was standing, I couldn't see what it was, nor could I see what he was doing.

He muttered something that I could hear, and then the broken exhibit suddenly started to put itself back together.

Hm, repairing things is basic magecraft, but it seemed different from the spell Kiritsugu taught me. Not that I'm skill enough in magecraft to know what was different. Especially when I couldn't even see what the guy was doing.

Amos straightened his body, and his magical energy suddenly faded.

He turned towards me with empty hands; whatever thing he'd pulled out had vanished.

"Your father should wake up soon, Miss Moonlit," Amos smiled gently.

I responded with a cold stare.

"Thank you for not harming my father, but I need to know, what did that other man mean by the end of the world?"

The smile on Amos' face faded, replaced with an expression that seemed strangely familiar. "Don't worry; the world isn't coming to an end. Julius is just paranoid."

"It doesn't sound like he thinks so," Amos frowned as I said that. "If you don't stop him, then he will get himself or someone he cares about killed."

Amos looked down at me, his gaze becoming sympathetic. "I wish it were that easy, but we both know that that's impossible."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked slowly, with a tone that was deceptively calm.

"I don't need to be a mind reader to see the loss in your eyes," Amos said before walking towards me. "I'm sorry, child, the lives of demi-gods are far crueler than any innocent soul deserves."

Amos placed his hand on my shoulder as if he were trying to comfort me.

I showed his hand all my shoulder and stared at him coldly. "I don't need your sympathy. And I plan on living a happy life."

Grimacing, I turned and started to make my way back towards my father.

I could feel Amos's gaze on my back, but I ignored it.

I don't need the support of a stranger. Especially one who couldn't tell the first thing about me, who was clueless enough to call me an innocent soul.

I shook my head as I marched back to Dad.

A frown was frozen on my face.

---

Later that Day

"What were you thinking?!" I loudly asked my father from across the dining room table.

"I don't remember," Dad responded sheepishly.

"Then guess!" I shouted at him.

He looked away from me for a moment, his face twisted as he contemplated why he foolishly went after a magic user.

"I must've seen the guy doing some magic thing… then I tried to confront him, only to be knocked out."

"And have your memories erased," I added with a glare.

"That too," Dad said while rubbing the back of his head. Then he suddenly smiled, "but don't worry; I'm perfectly fine."

"Fine?" I repeated incredulously, a look of utter confusion on my face. "You were knocked out and had your memories messed with! What part of that is fine?"

"It could've been worse, Atalanta," Dad tried to maintain his happy façade, but I could pick up on the sadness he was trying to keep hidden.

That sadness triggered something in my heart, as it reminded me of how much he has gone through.

My anger gave way to sadness and worry.

"That doesn't make your actions better. If anything, it makes them worse. What would've happened if they decided to kill you?"

"I would be dead," Dad responded with a slightly shaky voice. It was almost as if the idea hadn't crossed his mind, but he was terrified of the possibility.

"Exactly; if you were worried about the guy, then you should've informed me about them."

"Then what?" Dad asked calmly; his voice had returned to normal. "Let you go off and fight them on your own?"

"Yes."

"No."

I stared into his eyes while he stared back. Neither of us was willing to concede to the other.

I can't let him get hurt. I need to know that he's ok.

He doesn't want to see me hurt.

Our desires are incompatible.

He'll put himself into harm's way to protect me, going against my need to protect him. And in putting myself in danger to protect him, I deny his want.

The only difference between our desires is that I'm right and he's wrong.

"I'm a demi-god, Dad! I don't need the protection of a weak human!"

"Weak human?" Dad repeated with a confused frown.

"That's right. In a battle between gods and monsters, humans like you should go away," I stared into my father's eyes unflinchingly. "All you'll do is get yourself killed."

"Atalanta, I've survived in ancient Greece. As a hunter of Artemis, I've faced and killed monsters before. I've survived your mother's wraith. Nothing can stop me from protecting you, my little moon, because there's nothing more precious to me than you," he said with a gentle, calming tone.

I physically flinched at my father's sincere words.

But still… I can't accept Dad putting himself into danger, no matter how much his eyes burn with love.

I got up from the kitchen table and started to walk out of the room.

"Dad, I don't care about your feelings; you will not be fighting from now on. From now, you will leave everything to me."

I quickly strode out of the room before Dad could respond. I quickly ran outside.

---

It's been several hours since my conversation with my father. Neither of us has tried to talk with the other.

I leaned back and looked up at the setting sun. The light of dusk was filtered through the trees around me.

My magic circuits were fully open, causing them to glow a bright white. The heat that they were radiating was causing me to sweat.

I sat up and took off my jacket, which I then placed next to me.

I've spent the last few hours practicing my reinforcement.

Now that my parents know some of the details of my past life, I no longer have to hide my magical training. Unfortunately, despite that, I haven't been able to make much progress, even with the extra training time.

Projection still costs far more than it should and takes too long. And reinforcement still has to be done slowly, on top of being weaker than it was in my past life.

If I'm going to be strong enough to defeat Orion and protect my family, then I need to remaster my magecraft.

Closing my eyes, I imagined the structure of the butterknife I was holding in my hand. Thanks to Unlimited Blade Works, even details were revealed to me, almost appearing like a schematic in my mind.

For reinforcement, I didn't need to know the butter knife's history, so I disregarded that information. Instead, I focused on its physical and conceptual existence.

Using that information, I injected my magical energy into the knife, causing a white pattern to spread across it.

I sped up the process, trying to complete my reinforcement as quickly as possible.

The white pattern on the blade flickers red for a moment before the blade itself breaks into a hundred pieces.

The broken butterknife dematerialized.

"Trace off," I said with a scowl.

My magic circuits closed, though there was still some discomfort.

At this rate, it's going to take years for me to regain my skills in magecraft. Years that I don't have.

I looked down at my empty hands.

Should I do what Mom told me and forget about my past life?

If I forgot 'Shirou Emiya,' then I would grow stronger as 'Atalanta' that is an undeniable fact as my attention would no longer be split between training my magecraft and my divine powers.

But forgetting 'Shirou Emiya' feels wrong to me; I've put so much effort into my magecraft that it would be a waste to turn my back on it now.

I closed my hand and brought it up to my chest. My heartbeat was slow and steady.

Is it even possible to separate 'Shirou Emiya' from 'Atalanta Moonlit?'

Mentally, there have always been times where I felt like I was more one than the other, and there are times where I felt like 'Shirou Emiya' was fighting with 'Atalanta Moonlit.' But despite that, my current consciousness couldn't exist without myself as 'Shirou Emiya.'

To cast away 'Shirou Emiya' would be to cast away the very foundation of who I am. I would become someone whole different than the person my parents love. But wouldn't that person be more worthy of their love than me?

Emotionally, I don't ever think I could forget about the guilt I feel. The sorrow of my past life isn't something easily forgotten. Nor could I ever separate the actions of my past life from my own.

I let out a sigh.

"Stupid Atalanta, making everything harder than it needs to be," I chastised myself.

"I don't think you stupid, my little moon," Dad said from behind me.

I rolled my eyes at him, not turning around to look at him as he walked towards me.

"Hey! You're going to make me cry if you keep ignoring me!"

"Is there anything that doesn't make you cry?" I asked him sarcastically as he took a seat in front of me.

"Seeing you smile," Dad responded smoothly. A kind smile adorned his face.

"What do you want?" I asked him while turning away in an attempt to hide my blushing cheeks.

"I just wanted to continue our talk from earlier," Dad leaned back against a tree as he said that.

"There's nothing to talk about," I responded dismissively as I looked back at him, confident that my cheeks had returned to their normal coloration. "I will handle any fights from now on. You will come to me anytime you encounter something you think is dangerous. A human like you has no place on the battlefield."

"It's not your fault."

"Excuse me?"

"Me getting knocked out, that was my fault. You shouldn't blame yourself."

What's he talking about? Of course, it is my fault. He was under my protection.

"But knowing you as well as I do, you won't accept that," Dad shook his head with an amused smile. "So instead, I'll tell you this, thank you for protecting me while I was unconscious."

Unlike with Mom, Dad had no aura that seemed to comfort me, to tell me that everything was alright. He was no god; he was simply human. But that might be why the smile he had after he said that cut deeper than a knife.

My eyes widened as his smile faded. I've always admired beautiful things, and my father's smile at that moment was one of those things.

"I wonder if your mother looks like you right now when she's flustered."

Unfortunately, my admiration ended when my father decided to open his mouth again.

"You need to know when to shut up."

"You're probably right," Dad jokily conceded. "Anyway, what've you been doing out here?"

"I've been practicing magecraft," I responded while opening my magic circuits again.

"Made any progress?" Dad asked with definite interest.

When I first told my father about my past life or part of it, I proved it with my magecraft.

A small smile appeared on my face.

My father's reaction when he saw my magecraft was so funny. He looked like a child that was trying chocolate for the first time.

It was so different than Kiritsugu, who viewed magecraft as nothing but a tool.

"No," I grumbled.

"Is something bothering you?"

I looked into my father's eyes to see if anyone could understand my problem; it was him.

"Dad, should I stop practicing magecraft?"

"Why would you want to stop?" He asked out of concern for me. "You've never been one to give up just because of something hard."

"Mom told me to cast away everything from my dreams… my past life," those last three words still feel strange to say out loud. "She even disapproved of my magecraft, saying it wasn't fit for her child."

"Ata…"

"I wonder if she was right. No matter how much I practice, I haven't been able to improve significantly. I haven't been able to reach the level I was in my dream."

A slight flare of anger passed through my father's eyes as I mentioned Mom's disapproval of my magecraft. That anger quickly disappeared, replaced by understanding.

"Atalanta, forget what your mother told you. Your magic is beautiful and fits you perfectly."

I looked at him strangely. I've never once found my magecraft to be beautiful.

"I know, let's work on your magic together," Dad said with a grin.

"What do you know about magecraft," I asked him, without any hostility. "I didn't know you, a prince, was trained in magecraft."

"I have absolutely no knowledge about any forms of magic."

I glared at him, "that's right, you might not have been trained as a magus, but you received training as a jester."

"You wouldn't make that bad of a jester yourself," Dad shot back. "But why don't you tell me what's wrong with your magic."

I looked at him and sighed. I brought this on myself, so I might as well tell him the basics.

"Ok, Dad, here's a basic rundown on magecraft and my problem."

I explained magecraft to my father, along with my problems with reinforcement.

Specifically, how my magic circuits have changed from my past life; they now take in far more magical energy than they did in my 'dream', and it's extremely hard to control.

I've decided to hold off on explaining projection to him and Unlimited Blade Works. His head would probably explode in excitement if I told him about my ability to rewrite reality itself in the area around me.

Not that I can use it right now.

"Wait, Atalanta," Dad rose his hand as if he were a student in the class. "Your problem is with your magic circuits, right?"

"Partially yes," I responded with some hesitance. "My magic circuits are different from the ones from my past self."

Dad suddenly lightened up as if he had an epiphany. "Hey, you said that the main difference from them is that they're only stronger, right?"

I took a moment to think about my response. My magic circuits aren't just simply stronger; I think that their composition might be slightly different due to my divinity. And I think that there's a possibility that my elemental alignment might've been influenced by my bloodline, but I have no way to prove that.

"Yes."

"Then I have an idea!" He had an excited grin on his face. "When I first picked up a bow in this life, I had the opposite issue. I didn't have your mother's blessings, such as super strength. So, I found myself over correcting myself when firing a bow, leading to my accuracy being even worse than it should've been."

I see. I don't know how valid my father's theory is, but it wouldn't hurt to test it.

"I'll test your theory," I said while reaching out to project another butter knife.

"Good, but don't worry if you fail once or twice."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I muttered under my breath as I finished projecting the knife.

The butter knife was the same as the ones I was practicing on earlier.

"Why do you use butter knives?" Dad asked with true interest.

"My origin is [sword], and my element is/was [sword]. This makes it so that I'm extremely skilled at magecraft related to the concept of 'sword' but terrible at everything else."

"That's awesome!" The magic geek in front of me exclaimed.

I just nodded along and focused on interjecting magical energy into the butterknife.

I didn't focus on limiting the magical energy that went into the blade, nor did I take any extra steps to manipulate said energy. I reinforced the blade in the same exact way I did in my past life.

My magical energy entered the bladed…

"It didn't break," I simply stated that fact.

"Does that mean it worked?"

"Yes," I responded flatly. "I still need to practice on objects not related to weapons or armors, and I'm not yet confident enough to reinforce myself, but this is still great progress."

The ability to instantly reinforce any weapons is invaluable. And can make up for my weakened projection.

"Thank you, Dad," I showed the appropriate appreciation towards my father.

"I- um… You're welcome?" Dad stuttered, surprised by either my smile or my thanks.

"Stop acting so surprised," I complained. "It's only natural for someone to thank someone else for helping them."

"Yakow, it's nice to feel appreciated sometimes. But anyway, this proves my point from earlier."

"What point?"

"That you should forget about what your mother said, the knowledge that you inherited from your past life, is something you should embrace. You'll never reach your full potential if you just suppress your past life, and you'll most definitely not be happy."

I looked at him, not sure what to say or feel. Dad, meanwhile, got up.

"Stop overthinking things," Dad said as he walked to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. "Just go with the flow; you'll find yourself eventually. Trust me."

I just nodded in response while considering his words.

"Good," Dad took his hand off my shoulder. "Do you want to come inside? We can watch a movie or something."

"No, I need to keep training."

"Ok, don't overwork yourself."

I didn't respond as he walked away. I was too busy thinking about his words.

Mom told me to forget my past life.

Dad told me to embrace it.

Both only want what's best for me.

….

Maybe Dad's right; I'm overthinking things. Maybe I should just be the myself that my parents love?

I yawned as I projected another knife.

My thoughts were getting in the way of my training, so I pushed them to the side and focused on reinforcing the knife again.

---

My body felt heavy as I used all my strength to look around my surroundings. My eyes widened in pain as I took in the area around me.

Why?! Why do I keep having this nightmare!

My body suddenly erupted in pain, but it was a familiar pain that I'd never forgotten.

Weakly, I look at my body.

I wasn't in the body of Atalanta, but the body of a young Shirou Emiya. My arms were cut up and bruised; the pain was constantly radiating from them. One of my legs was trapped under some rubble, making it impossible to move.

Nearby was a broken mirror that I could barely see the reflection of my face in. Everything about my face felt both wrong and right. Instead of the silver eyes I've grown used to, familiar amber eyes adorned my face. And my hair was no longer the long beautiful black hair that I cherish so much, but that was replaced with a head of short red hair.

My golden-brown eyes were almost completely dead; they wouldn't be out of place on a corpse.

"Shirou!" I heard a voice that was almost forgotten call out; it took me a second to realize the voice was calling out to me. But despite that, my body automatically looked towards the voice.

Also trapped in the wreckage caused by the earthquake was a woman. For some reason, it was almost as if the woman's face had been blacked out. Her only identifying characteristic was her long red hair.

No! No! No! Pain and terror gripped my soul, but a small feeling of relief passed through my body as I saw the woman try to move through the wreckage to get to me.

"Mo-mom," my body called out without my input. My voice sounded strange to my ears; it was almost impossible for me to reconcile my voice as a young boy to my current one. This effect was only made worse due to my body's cry being in Japanese.

"I'm coming-," the woman said as she tried to get to me.

Knowing what's coming next, I try to turn my head away, but my body won't let me.

The woman made one wrong move, her foot hitting just the right piece of debris to cause a shift in the wreckage.

She only realized this as she felt herself being crushed by the falling debris; her eyes were focused on me in their final moments.

This was your fault, Shirou Emiya.

A voice in the back of my head told me as the last of the life in my past selves' eyes died. Said voice sounded just like my original mother's.

I felt all the hope inside me die. My father and mother are dead; no one knows where I am. This is where I'm going to die.

All my weak past self could do… all that I could do was sit there, trap in the wreckage. Death was the only thing that would save me from this pain.

Familiar feelings welled up inside me as I was trapped under the rubble with my mother's corpse.

Feelings that death was only fair.

Why should I live when everyone else dies? Especially since I ran away from people that needed my help, I should of stopped and saved them.

In a just world, the good guys get rewarded, while the bad guys are punished. And this is my punishment for not stopping to help the others, for trying to survive when they didn't.

Mentally, I started to shake, even if I couldn't force my body to move a muscle. It took all my willpower not to be swallowed whole by the emotions of my past self.

All I have to do is endure this until I wake up…

It felt like I was there for an eternity, but I found myself unable to wake up. What ended my pain was a familiar sight.

Slowly but surely, more light started to peek through as the debris was skillfully removed.

Once again, I felt the emotions of my past self. The pain remained, but I was filled with confusion.

Was someone coming to save me? Why me? Why didn't they get here sooner?

At that point, I felt something that would guilt me for years to come, the desire to live.

If my past self wasn't so broken, they might've tried calling out for help. But he didn't; he just sat there, barely clinging to life.

As the wreckage gave way, a familiar face came into view. It was Kiritsugu.

I swallowed as I thought about what came next. This was where Kiritsugu saves me, smiling all the while, then I'll wake up from this nightmare.

But that's not what happened; Kiritsugu moved in on me, carefully freeing my leg. He then picked me up.

Kiritsugu looked at me with cold dead eyes, the ones that I came to associate with him as I grew older. They were the eyes I tried so desperately to copy after his death.

This isn't how I remembered it. I remember Kiritsugu smiling as he saved me, his eyes full of life.

I started to feel emotions independent of this nightmare and my past self.

I felt denial, denial of Kiritsugu's dead expression as he pulled me out of the wreckage. I tried to convince myself that this was just a dream of my past, twisted by my guilt. But then I remembered that I've questioned the validity of this memory before and that it didn't make sense for Kiritsugu to smile while saving me.

After all, Kiritsugu never smiled when saving anyone else. Why would he smile for me? Why would he feel joy in saving me?

You were nothing but a tool to him, which is more than you deserved.

As the idea that Kiritsugu's smile was an illusion solidified in my mind, my heart was confused.

If Kiritsugu's smile was fake, something conjured up by my child mind to protect itself, then was my struggle for nothing?

I spent years debating between being a hero and protecting Miyu. All of that was rooted in this day.

My desire to make up for surviving. It was because of this that I agreed to fulfill Kiritsugu's plan that night. To use Miyu to save the world.

My desire to be as happy as Kiritsugu was when he saved me. It was what got me to ask him to take me with him. It was what kept me going through his merciless training. And is part of why I held onto his ideal for so long.

By using Miyu's wish-granting powers, I would save everyone, which would make up for my failure to save anyone on this day. And by saving everyone, everyone would be happy. I thought that everyone being happy was then worth the death of one person.

But if Kiritsugu's smile wasn't real, then Miyu's sacrifice would've been useless. It wouldn't make anyone happy.

The more I thought about it, the more it hurt. Even if I should be happy about this idea, as it proves I made the right choice in saving my sister.

My dream body blinked, and I suddenly found myself somewhere else, having never gotten to see Kiritsugu's smile.

This time, I was standing in a destroyed graveyard.

My body was still injured, but these injures were from the battle against I foe I'll never forget.

The saber class-card user, Zachary Ainsworth, the father of my best friend, was hunched over several meters in front of me.

Mentally, I felt old guilt well up inside of me, which was compounded by my body.

Even if I couldn't see it, I knew that my current dream body was that of my past self just before death. Despite the fact that it was my body, part of me felt like I was trapped in someone else body.

An overwhelming desire to be back in my current body swelled inside my soul, but my prayers weren't answered.

"I'll leave Julian to you…," Julian's father told me, with a slight smile.

Your hands are forever stained with the blood of your friend's father…

I suddenly felt a horrible pain in my body as I found myself in the place where I had died. But the sky was blacked out, leaving not a single star in the sky. And Miyu was nowhere to be found. The only other person here was Angelica Ainsworth.

And his sister.

As the voice in the back of my head, my subconscious reminded me of the horrible things I did. I finally got a small reprieve.

Suddenly, I found myself in the woods. I felt no small relief as I looked down to see my small pale hands and finally felt my divine blood running through my veins again.

That relief didn't last long, though, as I looked around the unfamiliar forest.

Terror gripped my soul as I looked at the scene a couple of yards in front of me.

I saw my father dead, and Mom was barely alive. Standing in front of her was a man that was at least ten feet tall. His skin was light, but it wasn't pale like Moms or mine. He had dark hair, but that wasn't his most distinguishing feature, which was his mechanical eyes.

As I looked into those eyes, I realized who that man was. I've only ever instinctively hated one person, Kirei Kotomine, but the hatred I felt towards this man was far greater. If I could move, then I'd be doing everything in my power to kill him.

I did everything in my power to control my breathing and calm down.

This is just a dream, nothing more. Dad is alright. Mom is fine.

Orion leaned down and grabbed my mother's unconscious body.

"Now you're mine, Artemis," Orion chuckled, my body starting to shake in rage, despite the fact I couldn't move it before. "Hm… I think the first thing we'll do together is to teach you a lesson you missed growing up."

Wake up! Wake up! I kept shouting, though I wasn't sure if it was to myself or Mom. I opened my magic circuits, not caring if I opened them in the real world. The more magical energy I gathered, the more I could move. It wasn't enough, though, so I started to go through my mind, through UBW.

"It's time for someone to teach you the joy of being a woman, don't worry by the time I did you'll understand why women show—no desire to be below men," to someone else, Orion's smile as he said that might've appeared mesmerizing, but I saw the deranged monster behind it. "Luckily for you, I've got more stamina than any other man, so our sessions can go on for a long time."

No matter what I did, I was unable to move more than two or three steps. For some reason, it felt like something was holding me back.

Calm down, Atalanta. Remember, this is a nightmare, nothing more. I'll just need to imagine something else, and this'll go away.

This will only happen because you were born, Shir-

I completely ignored everything around me and tried to imagine being somewhere else, anywhere else.

As I did so, a place I've both never been to and have been to appeared in my mind. The image was incomplete undefined, but I felt like I would be safe there.

My mind strained as I did everything in my power to force myself to that somewhere else, but it felt like my nightmare wanted to keep me trapped here.

I took one last look at the dream version of my mom.

And with that sight, I managed to force myself from that dream. As the force, a possibility some part of the mind lost the power of me.

Something like that nightmare has no power over me because it will never happen. I will die a thousand deaths before I let Orion anywhere near my parents.

I felt mentally exhausted, despite this being a dream. I collapsed onto my back, falling into a hill of snow.

Looking around my new location, I knew what this place was instinctive.

My inner world- Unlimited Blade Works

It felt as if the nightmare was fading, becoming less real, almost as if I were returning to normal sleep.

But that didn't stop me from looking around my reality marble. This is the first time since my rebirth that I've been able to see even part of it.

It was nighttime; the sky was almost completely blotted out by dark clouds that hid the stars and the moon. But some moonlight managed to break its way through the clouds, providing a little light in this world of sprawling darkness.

The swords around me seemed to glisten in the moonlight as if they were drinking it in. No, that's not right. It felt like the moonlight was one with the swords, each one part of a system that was greater than the sum of its parts.

They were truly beautiful.

The hill around me was covered in snow and blades, like the rest of my reality marble, but there was a strange sight around the hill.

Despite the snow, there was a series of golden flowers, just like the one Dad gave me, growing sporadically around the hill. It is impossible for such a flower to grow here, in a world of eternal snow and night. But for some reason, I could picture these flowers one day growing all around this hill.

As I blinked one last time, I tried to look as far into the distance as I could, but I couldn't see anything.

I wonder what's out there, in the land dissolved by darkness.

More swords? More flowers? Maybe a forest?!

If only there was more light.

If only the clouds weren't blocking the moon.

If only the clouds weren't blocking the stars.

Then maybe I'd have my answer.

Closing my eyes for the final time, a stray thought that I knew I wouldn't remember crossed my mind.

When was the last time I called myself Shirou Emiya? Even subconsciously?

---

Artemis's pov (?)

"Death is to light a punishment for the defilement of my temple," I told myself as I looked up at the empty night sky. "They'll regret the day they crossed me."

The glare on my face didn't change as I walked through the forest surrounding Hippolytus's house.

It took less than a minute to reach the child I was looking for.

So… that's her? She's grown since the last time I saw her.

Is she really foolish enough to fall asleep in the middle of a forest?

She didn't wake up, even as I approached her.

How unsightly. She should be more aware of her surroundings.

The girl was lying on the ground, using a jacket as a pillow. Her black and partially white hair was silky clean.

She looked very healthy.

I stood above her, watching her sleep. The girl was trembling; she must be suffering from a bad nightmare.

Seeing the girl tremble was strangely discomforting. It was like her agony was my own. Every fiber of my being was telling me to comfort her. She was someone to protect with my life.

I slowly sat down next to her, doing everything I could to not wake her.

I frowned slightly.

In all my years as a god, I've never gone out of my way to not wake someone up. Yet here I am, worried about disturbing a kid's sleep.

Why does my other half love her so much?

My soft hand gently pushed her hair to the side.

Her forehead was pulled into a frown, and her eyebrows were in a position that indicated stress.

Pain welled up in my chest. Intense profound feelings weld up from my soul.

Before I knew what I was doing, I gently lifted the girl into my lap. Slowly, I stroked her hair.

I shifted slightly so that my back could lean into the tree behind me. The girl laid across my lap sideways. While she's not small enough to fit in my lap, more of her fit in my lap than I expected.

It reminds me of the last time I got to see the girl.

The pain in my chest was burned away by an uncomfortable warmth as I remembered holding her as a newborn baby. Instinctual feelings emerged in my heart.

As a baby, she had superb self-control. No matter what I did to her, she never cried and maintained a stoic face as expected of one who carries my divine blood.

I gently stroke her hair, unsure of what I should do.

Just because I have my other half's knowledge, that doesn't mean I know how to use it.

As Artemis, I've had years to build up my ability to deal with this girl. But I haven't interacted with her since she was an infant.

This girl was conceived by Artemis and birthed by Artemis. Her connection to my other half has only been further cemented by their time together.

Yes... I'm worrying far too much.

At this point, Artemis is so closely linked to this girl that I will switch from Diana to Artemis when she sees me.

After a moment, the girl's eyes started to open.

Knowing her nightmare was over made me feel oddly satisfied. My other half can take things from here.

Atalanta took a few seconds to fully wake up and then took a few more seconds to register my presence.

"Mo- Mom?" Atalanta stuttered, her eyes widening.

What?

Whenever a Roman god is in the presence of someone related to their Greek selves, they switch personalities and vice versa. So, why am I still Diana?!

Unless... I don't think of Atalanta as belonging to one side of myself. She is important to my being.

"Mom?" Atalanta asked again, a confused expression adorning her face.

"What is it, Atalanta?" I responded while quickly masking my confusion. Her greek name sounded foreign to my ears.

"What are you doing here?"

"I suddenly felt the urge to visit you. Do you have a problem with that?"

That was the truth. I had been angry, and then the thought of visiting Atalanta popped into my mind.

"No," Atalanta responded while not making any effort to sit up. My hand continued to stroke her hair. "It's surprising to see you visited again so soon."

A small flash of loneliness appeared in her soul, but it quickly disappeared.

"Why are you sleeping out here?"

"I was training and must've overdone it."

"Your training is important, but you should only do it in moderation. A highly planned training regiment would be the most effective way for you to better yourself."

Atalanta snickered.

I looked down at her; I would've punished most people for snickering at me. Yet, I found her snickering kind of enduring.

"You of all people don't have the right to say that."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"During our hunting trip, your training was completely unorganized."

Artemis's inability to plan training is one of her worst traits. And I have no attention to taking the blame for it.

"That unorganized training was caused by the failings of my other half."

Atalanta's eyes widened. "Other half?"

"I have two halves; both equally make up who I am."

"I see," Atalanta accepted the information quickly, admirable. "And what half are you?"

"I am the roman version, Diana."

Atalanta's eyes widened. "Why didn't you tell me this before? Does Dad know?"

"I never told you because I wasn't supposed to. And no, Hippolytus doesn't know."

"Why not?"

"Because Greek half-bloods and Roman half-bloods have a tendency to kill each other."

The girl frowned at my response. "Why? It can't be some stupid blood feud, right?"

"Your faith in the other members of your kind is commendable but misplaced. The two halves just like to kill each other over petty millennium-old conflicts."

"How stupid," Atalanta condemned her fellow half-bloods without batting an eye. "Is there even a difference between Greek and Roman half-bloods?"

"Overall, not really. Any differences are mostly superficial. What makes them different is their cultures. Roman half-bloods are sent to Camp Jupiter, or Wolf House more specifically."

"Wolf House?"

"It's where Roman half-bloods are sent to, where they are tested by Lupa. If the half-blood passes, they are trained and later admitted to Camp Jupiter. Failures are devoured by Lupa."

Atalanta looked at me like I was crazy. "Failure equals death? How many half-bloods die in this test?"

"Less than greek half-bloods by that age."

Greek Half-bloods don't live long lives. Most of them die before they make it to adulthood. Whereas almost every roman half-blood survives to adulthood. A demi-god devoured by Lupa would have died soon after anyway.

"That doesn't justify leaving your child to die," the daughter of my greek self protested.

"A greek would see it that way." I stopped stroking the girl's hair. Incomprehension was painted on her face. "No roman god would acknowledge a child that hasn't proved itself. Even myself."

My chest hurt as I said that.

"What do you mean?" Atalanta asked; there was a slight deadness in her voice.

"My other self has accepted you despite not having proved yourself... but I don't," those words made my soul shutter in denial. The love for Atalanta engraved on my core would never deny her lineage. No matter what she does, it will always accept her.

The small light in Atalanta's eyes was hidden behind a fog of doubt. I could feel her tense in my arms. She reminded me of a wounded animal cub, but she wasn't running.

"I understand," she nodded despite being hurt. "Then let me prove myself."

Why did she want to prove herself to me? It's not like I'm the mother she knows...

But I can't deny her feelings. She wasn't begging for my approval but asking for a chance to prove herself. It was commendable; this is how she should hold herself. Instead of giving up in the face of someone's challenge, she accepts it and strives to succeed.

Now, it was my turn to meet her will. I must give her a chance to prove herself.

It can't be something involving Camp Jupiter since gods are supposed to keep roman and greek children separate. Father will forgive me for telling Atalanta, but even he will be forced to punish me if I send a greek half-blood to interact with Rome.

Nor should I send her to hunt down a monster. Any monster fit for a demi-god her age is too weak for her to prove herself in battle, while I'd just be sending Atalanta to her death by sending her to fight a true foe.

What if I sent her to investigate the source of my latest anger? It would be a fitting service to me without that much danger.

"The chance to prove yourself is a privilege I wouldn't deny you," I said while my hands began to stroke her hair again. "One of my temples was desecrated, and I need you to investigate it in my place."

Atalanta nodded, willingly accepting the quest. "How was it desecrated?"

"Two people had sex on my altar," I answered as venom began to leak into my voice.

Atalanta's eyes widen in either surprise or disbelief. "Why didn't you smite them then and there?"

"Because the scum somehow knew about the division between my Roman and Greek aspects. Whoever they were, they are related to my Greek half, while they had sex on an altar dedicated to my Roman aspect. They committed the deed while my two halves were fighting."

"Could it have been Orion?" Atalanta asked; there was a venom in her voice that surprised me, but I approve of it.

"No," I answered coldly.

If Atalanta is someone that my very existence loves, then Orion is someone my entire being despises.

"I see." Atalanta seemed happy that Orion didn't hurt me, but I could sense that she was hiding something. "Tell me where the temple is, and I'll go look into it."

"I'll need a map first, but I'm sure your father has one. I trust that he's smart enough to keep maps on hand."

"You really aren't normal, Mom are you, Mom?" Atalanta asked, with a mix of awe and shock. "Normal Mom would never compliment Dad."

Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me.

"So, this is your kid, poor thing. Though it sounds like her father has it tough to."

---

Atalanta's POV.

"You really aren't normal, mom, are you, Mom?" I asked my mom, shocked and slightly awed. "Normal Mom would never compliment Dad."

Among all the things that I've happened today, seeing mom complement dad is by far the most unexpected.

After everything that's happened, I'm glad Mom decided to visit today. It gives me a way to ignore everything from that nightmare.

"So, this is your kid, poor thing. Though it sounds like her father has it tough to."

My body tensed as I heard an unfamiliar voice and what sounded like two sets of footsteps.

I felt Mom shift slightly, her posture changing to become more natural and laidback.

"Aphrodite, what are you doing here?"

Aphrodite?!

My eyes shot up as I heard the name.

Aphrodite is the traditional enemy of Mom and is responsible for Dad's first death.

"Why are you so hostile?" Aphrodite asked as she finally came into view, a fake smile on her face.

Aphrodite was shorter than Mom, with blond hair and red eyes. She was wearing an expensive white dress that had no place in a forest.

"If you're here to try a toy with my daughter, then there will be consequences."

"Here I was just bringing my daughter to have a sleepover. And I'm met with threats of violence."

I tried to sit up, all for Mom to prevent me from doing so. I looked at my mother's face to see it twisted in hostility. She almost looked like a mother hen protecting her chicks from a ravenous fox.

"Huh… Atalanta?!" a familiar voice called out to me.

"Silena?" I asked in response. It took me a moment to comprehend her being here. "What's going on?"

"My mom just grabbed and told me to come with her," Silena responded while sending an irritating glare towards her mother. The fact that she was still wearing her pajamas shows just how fast she was forced to leave her house.

I'm pretty sure Silena would bite off one of my fingers if I tried to force her to go somewhere looking like she does now.

"It's funny, isn't it?" Aphrodite asked with an artificial laugh. "For one of my daughters to be in the same class as yours, Artemis."

Silena's eyes widened as she heard my mother's name. She turned to look at it; all traces of irritation disappeared from her face.

"I knew it!" Silena shouted excitedly, a huge smile on her face. "You're a half-blood too!"

So, Silena is a demi-god, after all. I thought that it was possible due to her strange scent, but I didn't expect her mother to be Aphrodite.

"Why are you so excited about that?" I asked her.

"Is it obvious!" Silena squealed, appearing happier than I'd ever seen her before. "Can't you see how exciting it is to have a friend that you can talk to? And we get to go to camp together!"

"Don't you have a couple of dozen siblings you can talk to?" I asked her with a smirk. "Your mother is known for her affairs."

"That's just because she's full of love," Silena responded before lowering her voice to a whisper. "Well, except for love for her kids."

"What was that?" Aphrodite turned and looked down at Silena.

"Nothing," Silena said before pouting.

Aphrodite rolled her eyes at her daughter. "It's not that I don't love you all; I just don't have enough love to love you all equally."

Silena looked even more annoyed at her mother's statement, but Aphrodite didn't seem to notice. Or more like care to.

I made sure to keep my outward expression neutral. Aphrodite is not like Apollo or Mom; if I anger her, then she will try to kill Dad or me. All I have to worry about from Apollo is him coming by and embarrassing me with his silly uncle act.

"That's disgusting," Mom declared without any fear. "But I would expect nothing less from you."

Aphrodite turned and looked at me as she started to laugh elegantly. "Hahaha… Do you think you can lecture me on parenting after having one kid?! You should be begging me for advice."

"I've raised Atalanta fine on my own," Mom growled.

"Fine?" Aphrodite repeated incredulously. "It seems that I was right about you; you truly are a horrible mother."

"Think what you like," Mom responded why being unphased by Aphrodite's words. "But I know I've been a great mother; Atalanta told me so."

Mom looked down at me, a smile on her face as she stroked my hair.

"I pity you, daughter of Artemis," Aphrodite sounded surprisingly genuine as she said that. "It's truly a horrible thing to grow up with a mother that never teaches you how to love. Instead of seeking to make you just like them."

I glared at the goddess of love; anger boiled inside me. I don't need the pity of some stranger, especially one who insults my mother.

"Mom! That's mean! Ata and Miss Artemis clearly love each other!" Silena surprisingly came to our defense, surprising both me and Mom.

Aphrodite glanced down at Silena with a surprisingly calm expression. "And that's part of the reason I pity your little friend. The daughter of Artemis is blinded by her love for her mother. While Artemis is blinded by what she wants her daughter to be, and not what she is."

"You don't know a thing about my relationship with Atalanta."

"I may not know everything about you two, but I know enough," Aphrodite pointed at mom with one of her fingers. "You constantly push your daughter to be more like you, and you push forward without regard to what it does to your kid."

Mom growled, angered at the accusation. "I'm not trying to make Atalanta more like me; I'm just helping her reach her full potential."

"A full potential that looks a lot you, I presume," Aphrodite placed one of her hands on her hip as she smirked at Mom. "You don't need to answer that; I know that it's true. Your pride wouldn't let you not be the perfect role model. But I do wonder, Artemis, would the daughter you love still be the same child if you changed everything about her?"

Mom looked like she was about to jump up and kill Aphrodite.

"Mom, calm down; she's just trying to get under your skin," I tried to calm my mother down. "And she's wrong about one thing; you are the perfect role model."

My mother looked down at me, her anger quickly fading. Mom's grip on me lessened slightly; I am lucky that Mom has enough presence of mind to not hurt me, even when she is enraged.

I would've sighed if I wasn't smiling to help Mom calm down.

"You're right, Atalanta. Aphrodite doesn't know a thing about our relationship," Mom said as she glared at Aphrodite.

Silena had wandered off to the right and was watching everything go down with the bated breath.

"That's where you're wrong; I know plenty about the two of you, Apollo told me after all."

Mom and I looked at Aphrodite for a minute, trying to find any sign that she was lying, but we were unable to find any.

I vowed to myself that the next time I see Apollo, he's going to suffer.

Mom seemed to make the same vow.

"I do wonder, though," Aphrodite looked down at me. "Do you really think that your mother is perfect? Even in spite of her being among the most vicious gods?"

Before I answered the question, I noticed that Silena had paled slightly. I wonder if she was just now realizing how dangerous our mothers are.

"Miss Artemis doesn't seem vicious," Silena muttered louder than she meant to.

Aphrodite smiled as if she were overjoyed at her daughter's statement.

"Artemis has felled countless men and women with her arrows; one doesn't need to look further than her slaughter of an entire family for a slight insult against her mother. She has helped her brother spread plague and disease across the land for the crimes of two people. And for all of Artemis's talk about protecting women, she's taken the lives of many innocent maidens and victims. Such as poor Iphigeneia, who was sacrificed to Artemis for the sin of her father, or Callisto, who Artemis turned into a bear after Zeus forcibly bedded her. But not only is Artemis vicious beyond compare, but she is also a hypocrite! For she struck down countless people for forcing themselves on others but then had a girl's maidenhood forcibly stripped away from her."

"What do you mean?" Silena asked, causing me to wince slightly as I remembered that Silena was just a normal kid.

"What that means matters not!" Aphrodite continued with her almost play-like speech while strangely skipping around Silena's question. "All that you should know is this, Artemis ruthlessly killed people for this crime. Then Aura, a Titan-goddess, saw Artemis's body and, correctly, pointed out her breast were full and soft, while her cheeks shed a rosy radiance. Between those traits and Artemis's tender arms, none can fault Aura for saying Artemis had the body of a desirous goddess; as long as one remembers, I'm far more desirable! The great goddess of maidens decided to answer this accusation by going to Nemesis and demanding vengeance for the perceived slight against her! Aura's punishment was for her to have the purity she cherished so much, taken from her during sleep by Dionysus. Now baring children, two twins, Aura was forced to give up her life as a hunter, but that wasn't enough for Artemis. Artemis relentlessly mocked Aura for her pregnancy and the loss of her virginity. When Aura finally gave birth, she snapped eating one of her kids before jumping into a stream to kill herself."

Aphrodite finished her speech which I'm now realizing was probably preplanned. However, I will admit that Aphrodite has a good storytelling voice.

In the few seconds following Aphrodite's speech, it felt like the forest itself was silent, too terrified to make any noiseless it accrues the wraith of its master.

If I thought Mom was enraged before, then now she's livid.

"So, firstborn of Artemis, do you still truly believe your mother is one to be admired?"

I'm starting to see why Mom hates Aphrodite. "Of course she is; I admire Mom in spite of her flaws. She is far more worthy of admiration than you."

For a brief moment, Aphrodite's outward façade disappeared, replaced by a burning revulsion that she didn't even try to hide.

Her gaze wasn't that of a god looking down on ants, nor was it one of true hatred. It was one full of utter disgust as if she were looking at something actively mocking everything she stood for.

Which I guess she was. Mom stands for chastity and purity; she views romantic love – Eros- as a curse. Whereas Aphrodite probably believes that the more physical the relationship, the better.

Mom believes that it strips people of not both their sanity and independence. It's a sign that one has lost control of themselves.

Seeing as Mom views self-control as a virtue in itself, while playing Tarzan for most of the year, her hatred of love should come as no surprise.

The basis of Mom's philosophy was something that I strangely found myself believing in, but our conclusions are different.

Unlike my mother, I've almost felt passionate love before, with Sakura… or at least I think I did. After all these years, the details of those dreamlike days have started to blur, but the nightmare that followed is as clear as ever.

I still remember every little detail of Sakura's confession to me and her resulting death. Yet, despite that, I was never able to understand why Sakura loved me.

Sure, I acted positively when I was at school, but that was only an act. A performance to trick me into thinking I was a real person, if only for a few hours. And she could tell.

So, why would she fall in love with someone she knows is lying to her?

It wasn't until recently that I figured it out when I realized I was overthinking things the entire time.

Sakura's family was dead. She had no friends and was all alone.

And that's why she fell in love with me. I was the only person she could attach herself to, add in teenage hormones, and her attraction suddenly made a lot more sense. That is the only reason I can think of for Sakura to fall in love with me.

When I came to that realization, I finally came to understand the foolishness of passionate love.

Sakura's love caused her to do something insane and betray Ainsworth, getting her killed.

And if I'd accept her proposal to run away, giving in to my love for her, then I to would've suffered the same curse as Sakura. I would've become completely dependent on her and her on me. Our love for each other would've been the only thing keeping us going. But I don't know if it would've been enough to save a Shirou Emiya that abandoned his sister.

In the short term, it might've worked, but passion eventually dies. And I would've been left with nothing.

I've come to realize that going down the path of love would be the end of me.

But I'm not like my mother, who thinks all romantic love is wrong.

Because even if Sakura was stupid for falling in love with me, her smile was still beautiful.

Something so beautiful couldn't come from something truly evil.

Unfortunately, I don't think Aphrodite would approve of my views.

Fortunately, I'm not one of her followers.

Aphrodite looked from me to Mom. There was an intense staring contest between the two. Their hatred for each other was almost papabile.

Silena, meanwhile, was giving me a thumbs up from behind a tree. A lot of good that'll do if they decide to fight.

Aphrodite stopped glaring at Mom, instead choosing to return to her act. Mom just looked like she was plotting how to hide her body.

"I heard you're sending your embarrassment on a quest," Aphrodite insulted me as she spoke. "Someone like her will need some help, Silena."

Embarrassment? Have I been an embarrassment for Mom?

Mom suddenly looked very confused.

"What?!" Silena shouted from behind a tree. "I can't do that! Quest is dangerous! And my hair will get messed up!"

"If you go, I'll give you the makeup kit you've been wanting."

Silena's eyes suddenly went from outright refusal to hesitant. "I don't know…."

"If you don't help, then the quest will never be fulfilled. A small child-like her will need help if she wants to survive."

"Fine, but you better not go back on your word," Silena agreed to come on the quest.

Aphrodite turned to look at Mom just as her face was illuminated with realization.

"No, your spawn will not be involved in this matter," Mom coldly told off Aphrodite.

"Hm, that won't work," Aphrodite shot back. "Just can call this a hunch, but I don't think your precious baby girl will survive this quest alone. She might get in an accident Silena could've prevented, and those due happen often."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, it's a warning."

"Just let Silena come, Mom."

Mom looked down at me, still scowling. "Atalanta, Silena will cause trouble…."

"I can handle it," I waved off her concerns. It was just a trip to one of Mom's temples. The people responsible for defiling it are long gone.

"It's settled then," Aphrodite smirked as she walked over to Silena. "You can explain the quest to her tomorrow morning."

"I haven't agreed to anything."

Aphrodite reached Silena's location. "This conversation was over the minute your kid agreed. I'm just saving us both time. Silena, it's time to go."

"See you tomorrow, Ata!" Silena shouted as she left with her mother.

I looked up at Mom; she still hadn't let me up from her lap.

It was strange to see her so irritated, angry, and exhausted.

"Mom, can you let me go?" I asked her.

"Fine," Mom finally let go of me. However, she wasn't happy about it.

I changed positions so that I was sitting right next to her. Mom put her arm around me.

"Atalanta, you should know that Aphrodite was lying," Mom's voice grew warmer as she talked.

"Can you be a little more specific? Most of the things she said were lies," I made my distaste for the goddess of love known.

Mom chuckled; a lot of her pent-up emotions seemed to leave her at once. "Why don't we start with Aura?"

I stiffened my back slightly. This wasn't the first thing I thought we'd talk about. I thought we'd talk about how blatantly wrong Aphrodite was about our relationship.

Instead, we were talking about Mom's actions in the past.

I know that Aphrodite was either lying or being misleading, but I don't think Mom's version is going to suddenly make her the hero. And if it does… then there is a good chance of Moms changing the story.

"That's fine," I responded to my mother.

"One day, I went to bathe alone, taking care to hide. Aura saw me and was then foolish enough to swim over to me. She said I wasn't really a virgin since my body was too womanly. Then she had the nerve to claim her body was better than my own," Mom almost seemed emotionally detached from the story.

Mom took a breath before continuing. "After Aura's insults, I went to Nemesis for revenge. I asked Nemesis to turn Aura to stone, but she refused; instead, she had her own plan. Nemesis simply had Eros make Dionysus fall madly in love with Aura. Dionysus's lust would do the rest. And since Aura ended up pregnant, I got to personally get revenge on her by delaying the birth of her children."

I looked up at my mother with a completely blank expression.

Even though I've known of the horrible actions of the Greek gods, it's still shocking to hear your mother admit to such a horrible crime. I can't honestly say she was in the right.

She's different around you, acting as Artemis the mother, and not Artemis, the goddess.

My father's words played back in my head.

Gods are said to be dangerous creatures that use humans as playthings.

They can murder countless and not feel anything.

They're supposed to be petty, cruel, and selfish.

A god trying to understand a human is supposed to be like a human trying to understand an ant.

Yet despite that-

"Is everything alright?" Mom asked while looking me in the eyes. Her silver eyes seemed to glow like one of the stars in the sky.

-I love my mother, faults, and all. And she loves me.

"Of course," I answered her while leaning into her side.

I think anyone who says gods and humans can't understand each other is a fool.

---

AN: Hello. Sorry for taking so long between updates.

Some IRL stuff came up, and by the time I could write again, I developed a massive case of writer's block. Not that that's any excuse for taking so long to update.

Anyway, the ending of the last chapter was heavily disliked and going back over, I could see why. So, I quickly rewrote it. Basically, I rewrote it like the night after the chapter was released, so if you read the last chapter in the first day or two, you should probably go back and read it.

Now then, on to this chapter. There are some things in this chapter that'll probably be controversial, so I want to talk about them here.

On the Egyptian stuff. Firstly, I lost a good bit of it (and most of the end of the last chapter), so I had to rewrite that. Then I wasn't satisfied with the rewrite, so I rewrote it again… and again… and again. What you guys do is the cut-down version that I finally settled on. It was originally much longer and would've set the groundwork for future chapters, but it was cut down to the bare minimum. So, details like why Atalanta got her mind jumbled when she traced the Egyptian weapon got their explanation cut but will be explained in later chapters. (But it is not that her mind is set for Greek, so non-Greek stuff messes it up. Atalanta was completely wrong on that point.)

The next controversial thing that'll need to be talked about is Kiritsugu's smile. I believe that I mentioned this before, but here's a quote from Miyuverse Shirou's entry from the Prisma Illya movie materials, "That scene is burned into Shirou's memories even now, but actually, whether the expression that Kiritsugu put on was real or not is on the verge of the questionable."

That line direction pulls into question Kiritsugu's smile during Miyuverse Shirou's flash, and all things considered, there's a high likelihood that Kiritsugu wasn't smiling when he saved Shirou (or at the very least wasn't smiling like he was in Shirou's memories.) The reason for this would take too long to go into, but the easy way to think about it is this- Kiritsugu had to go through fate/zero levels of suffering to reach the point that he was smiling so purely when he saved Shirou, Miyuverse Kiritsugu didn't go through the events of fate/zero or events even close to them. Nor has anything indicated that he was responsible for the disaster that MV Shirou was caught in.

Assuming you're willing to play ball with the idea the MV Kiritsugu wasn't smiling when he saved Shirou, what is the point of this? Well, that's easy to answer; the point is to force Atalanta to evaluate her ideals personally. And it's also how I'm going to address one of the bigger issues in this fic.

See, this fic has an issue in Atalanta's character, in that she's supposed to be dealing with her personality and stuff (trying to keep it vague and short here.), but that makes her especially hard to write since I'm trying to walk a very thin line. Change Atalanta's character to little, and the point of the story is rendered mute, and change it too much, and Atalanta might as well be an OC, or is not at the very least. A lot of feedback has informed me that I've crossed that line and make Atalanta way to you. Having Atalanta reevaluate her ideals gives me the chance to bring Atalanta back to the fine line I'm trying to walk, without having to change a bunch of the past stuff.

Next up, Atalanta's view on love and Sakura. Firstly, Atalanta's views are supposed to come off as kind of hypocritical and wrong. (Given everything she complains about Sakura doing, she did for Miyu.) It will be explained more in later chapters, so don't worry about it for now.

Now on to the thing that might cause the most amount of controversy, Aphrodite's speech.

As a character, I did everything in my power to show Aphrodite's more benevolent side since she'll probably be an antagonist for most of the rest of the story since we follow team Artemis. Thus making it easy for her to come off as nothing more than a petty goddess while making it look like Artemis is always right when she isn't. Aphrodite is even meant to have a point about Artemis and Atalanta's relationship.

Artemis and Atalanta love each other; there is no doubt about that. Their love is so deep that it literally runs down to Artemis's divine core and is as much a part of her other aspect as it is a part of her. And Atalanta loves her mother unconditionally.

But in their relationship, there are defiant problems that have been hinted at since chapter one when Artemis decided to get Atalanta a bow over something she would actually like (Miyuverse Shirou viewed archery more as a job than anything else and didn't really enjoy it.).

Then, Atalanta keeps pushing the line back on her mothers' actions. Going from 'I don't think she'd do that stuff,' to 'she might've done it to 'I don't care that she did it, I still love her.' Atalanta won't call her mother out on her bad actions until they are directly rubbed in her face, which the next arc or two will do.

Hopefully, that'll work out, and y'all like… TBH it's kind of nerve-wracking since the last chapter's ending wasn't set up well; I'm worried this one won't be enjoyable either. Well, there's only one way to find out!

Anyway, I was going to talk about the changes I'm working on for past chapters and stuff, along with plot points I'm thinking about dropping, but I want to post this chapter tonight, and it's getting really late, so we can save that for later.

Hope everyone has a wonderful day/night/evening/morning and stay safe. :)