Author's Note: A very big thank-you to my good friend and co-author, Pallan Minerva (who really deserves equal credit and FF, when are we going to be able to tag multiple authors?) When I stuttered on plans for this story, he helped keep the dream alive. I owe him a huge debt.
Without further ado..
—-
The snakeskin rustled with the sigh of old paper as Rin gingerly lifted it from its box. It felt thin and dry against her fingers, a husk shrivelled under the sun. Brown markings patterned across the almost translucent white, the memories of ancient scales.
It was strangely beautiful in its way, shining pale under the candlelight. Or perhaps her mind simply made it so. Because the skin represented her hopes, her strength, her very life in the coming nights. She stood on the eve of a bloody conflict, the Holy Grail War that had killed scores of magi before her. Even her father had fallen to it. As the heir to one of the founding families, she had no choice but to be involved. And without a Servant, she wouldn't make it through the week.
This was it, then. Succeed in the summoning ritual, or die.
She shivered, but it was entirely due to the cold of the basement. Certainly not fear of death, for she had long ago accepted that possibility. A magus walked hand in hand with death, as her father had always said. As that twisted aesthete of a priest had confirmed, part of his lectures on the beauty of suffering.
Rin grit her teeth. She could do this. She had been born for this War, raised to it, trained and prepared her whole life. She would triumph and fulfill her father's dream for the Root. And all her sacrifices, all her blood and sweat and tears—
—Her mother's eyes, glassier than any flawed jewel, as she sat in her wheelchair while Rin chattered away about her schedule for the day, desperate for a smile or a frown of disapproval or any reaction, just so long as Mother saw her—
—Her friends' bentos, tucked neatly under their arms as they waved at her on their way out. She waved cheerfully back, a smile plastered on her face as she struggled to keep her feet from following the warmth of their boasts and laughter. The Crest burned ice against her arm, reminding her once again of the vast distance between them, deeper than any chasm—
—Her aching knees, broken on the cold floor of her basement, her head spinning from fatigue and blood loss, and still she stubbornly reached for a fresh set of gems, placed them around the crimson circle for yet another attempt—
—would be worth it. Had to be worth it, or she might shatter under the weight of her regrets.
She forced herself to breathe. She would make it work. She ran her hands again over the crinkled surface of the shed, the same catalyst her father had held a decade ago. The catalyst that would grant her the strongest Servant and assure her victory.
The strongest Servant? Don't make me laugh. How could he be, if he couldn't even save Father?
The thought rose up unbidden, just long enough to make her tremble, before she managed to shove it back down into its cage. No, she growled to herself, I can't start doubting now. She had cast her dice, set her fate, and all that remained was to see it through.
She checked the clock on the wall. The cold, marble face read one-thirty. It was time.
Rin picked up the small chest on the table and reached inside, felt the gemstones lying cold and hard against velvet. She winced as she grabbed a fistful, the first of many. The contents represented half of the jewels left to her, a stark reminder that she could not afford to fail – figuratively and literally. Even if by some miracle she managed to avoid the War, she would still have to give up magecraft due to sheer financial ruin.
She bent over the runic circle engraved in the floor, painstakingly carved into the stone by her great-grandfather. As she did, she reached down deep into her mind, to find the knife that formed the conceptual trigger for her magic circuits. Ruthlessly she plunged it into her heart, bore the spiritual shock with stoicism born of long practice. Her arm burned with cold fire as her Crest flared to life.
Mana pulsed along her circuits as she murmured the spell, feeling the jewels in her hand pulse with sudden heat. Hotter and hotter, until the heat searing her palm was almost unbearable despite the protective magic, but she forced herself to hold on as the stones melted into a thick liquid. She could not afford to waste a single drop.
Drip. Drip. Carefully she filled each line and whirl with molten gems, trailing each burning drop along her forefinger. Then she painted the runes in each concentric circle and along each edge, with precision down to the millimetre. Her eyes hurt with the strain, but she bit her lip and made herself work slowly. In a ritual of such power, the smallest mistake could be fatal.
Several times she melted another handful of jewels, and each time the circle closed a little further. Instead of the familiar crimson of blood, it shone with every hue of the rainbow, brilliant even under the flickering candles. She might have thought it beautiful if she'd had the mental energy to spare for it.
As she worked, she recited the words she had been practicing for almost a decade, every syllable seared into her mind.
"Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the Archduke of Contracts be the foundation. Let white be the colour I pay tribute to. Let my great Master Schweinorg be the ancestor."
The air seemed to grow colder, settling on her shoulders as a mantle of black ice. She thought she heard something high and sweet in the distance, a musical note ringing out across an impossible ocean. She frowned, refusing to be distracted as she raised her voice, clear and bold among the shadows.
She was the heir of Tohsaka, the daughter of great magi. She would not fail here. She would not.
"Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road lead from the Crown and reach unto the kingdom."
A soft glow crept along the circle, illuminating each line and run in pale white. She bit her lip and fought the trembling in her hands as she continued, the gemstones oozing to fill the last gaps in the pattern.
"Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Five times for each repetition. Then destroy the filled time."
As she pronounced the final word, she let the last of the liquid drip to form the final rune. Blue-white radiance suddenly flared between the points of the inscribed star, drowning out the candles entirely. The magic in the room was palpable now, pulled from the air around her and concentrated in that otherworldly light. And now she could recognize the tolling of a distant bell, the pure sound of silver striking crystal.
She smiled grimly as she took her position at the edge of the circle, cradling the snakeskin in her hand. She spared one last glance at the time. Two o'clock, the peak of her magic power. Exactly as planned.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it reverberate through her. Rin Tohsaka was no longer human, she told herself. She had to believe it. Because no human could bear what would happen next.
"Anfang," she whispered, and braced herself.
Mana poured through her in a sudden flood, lightning coursing down every nerve until it might burst. Raw magical energy burned through her, a sudden blaze of pain chased by icy winds stripping her to the bone, then acid in her belly eating her from the inside—
Even as her nerves screamed in pain, she held on. For with that agony came power, the power to work a miracle. She felt a rising triumph as words keep spilling from her lips.
" I announce. I will command your body, your sword will command my fate. If you would submit to the Grail's call and obey my mind and reason, then answer me!"
Distantly she saw shadows thrashing along the walls, before her vision was ruthlessly and remorselessly cut off. Icy wind rushed around her, lifting her hair and clothes with freezing fingers. The bell was still far away, lost in the mists of that other world, yet also frighteningly close. It rang high and clear and sharp in her ears.
She clenched the skin in her hand as she faced the gale, her voice hoarse with her resolve.
"An oath shall be sworn here! I shall attain all the virtues of all of Heaven. I shall have dominion over all the evils of all of Hell. From the Seventh Heaven clad in the Three Great words, come forth from the ring of control, Guardian of the Holy Balance!"
A sharp crack, the sound of a bell splitting in two and crashing to the ground. White light so nova-bright she could feel it burn against her skin, even with her vision lost to her. Power rushed out of her, violently pulled from her every circuit as the sharp tang of ozone filled the air.
And Rin Tohsaka grinned to herself, even as she staggered and almost fell. The burn in her circuits, the harsh static of spent mana, all of it could mean only one thing.
She had succeeded. No, more than succeeded, she must have drawn the strongest Servant, for the spell to react so violently. She couldn't wait for her vision to clear. Would her Saber be clad in shining armor and holy sword, a paladin from the greatest epics? Or would his shield be battered and ruined, his blade drenched in blood? She didn't care, so long as he was hers.
Silence stretched on as she blinked against the darkness, marked only by the muted ticking of the clock. The smell of electricity dissipated, leaving behind a vague coppery taste on her tongue and in her nostrils. Finally she could see light again, the candles small and weak compared to the blaze of the circle.
The circle. She stared at its dull etchings, the jewels dull and lifeless. It was entirely empty.
"No..."
Her eyes stared unbelievingly at the space where her Servant should have been, willing there to be a glint of armor, a hint of metal, anything. Nothing, absolutely nothing.
"No! No, I can't accept this. I won't accept this!"
Her heart hammered in her chest, panic rising in her blood. Desperately she forced herself to think through, to explain it, anything to keep herself from screaming.
Impossible. This is impossible. She knew she had been chosen as Master. It was her right as the heir to Tohsaka. Any doubt had been dispelled by the burning itch, the glowing marks on the back of her hand, the precursor to the Command Seals. The ritual then? But no, she had done everything perfectly, followed every step as practiced a hundred times. She had burned an ocean of power, she had heard the toll of the otherworldly bell that heralded the opening of the gates—
—you failed you failed and now you'll die just like Father but nobody will even remember your name you're just a failure you—
She pulled savagely at the skin in her hands, almost tearing it in the anger born of fear. In that moment she wanted to rip it to pieces to paint a tapestry that would match the last shreds of hope that were rapidly slipping through her fingers.
"Why? I did everything you asked for, everything you ever wanted of me. So why?!"
She raised her hand, maybe to tear it off and fling it to the ground, maybe to drive her fist into the wall, maybe to kick the desk her father had left her into pieces; she just needed to make a meaningless gesture to vent her rage and ease the choking in her throat. But as she did, a red glow caught her eye. Red lines, burning on the back of her hand.
Command Seals.
A flood of relief washed over her. She had not failed then. She still had a chance. She still—
A sudden explosion sent her staggering anew. It roared from upstairs, almost deafening in the closed space of the basement. She felt the floor shake under her, bottles and crystals flying off the shelves to shatter against the floor.
An attack already? She really did have the worst luck.
Where the hell is my Servant? Not here in the basement, that was certain. Maybe he was already fighting upstairs? She hesitated—she felt absolutely drained, every circuit a dull ache in her body—but she couldn't just hide here while her home was assaulted. She had her pride as a Tohsaka.
She grit her teeth as she ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time in her haste. Her hand slipped into her pocket, closed around the rubies secreted there.
The living room door was broken, impossibly crooked within its frame. She had no time to coax it loose.
"You're in my way!"
She kicked it hard, sending it crashing open. She burst into the living room, two gems held threateningly between her fingers. If nothing else, she could have the element of surprise.
Then everything faded before the vision that greeted her. A radiant woman, as regal as any lioness as she lounged on a throne of gold. Red eyes swept down the throngs of people shouting their devotion, their love for her, and she rewarded them with a proud smile. Shining hair of the richest orange-blonde tumbled carelessly down her shoulders to meet black cloth and fine gold armor. Still the majority of her torso was bare, showing off the toned figure of a warrioress born, marked with jagged lines of red to emphasize her fierceness.
Rin stared, unmoving. She was lost in the aura of power radiating from the woman, threatening to overwhelm her with its sheer force. The splendor of sun shining down on gold, the roar of the crowd, the scent of sweet herbs burning in a brazier.
Then she blinked and the scene was gone, replaced with the ruins of her living room. It was a disaster of broken chairs and collapsed furniture, torn curtains and shattered glass. The golden throne was just a fallen bookcase, resting at an awkward angle against the remains of her table. But still the woman sat upon it, as haughty as any empress. And Rin couldn't help but feel small as those scarlet eyes turned to her. Brazenly looked her up and down, considered her.
Then the woman grinned at her. "Hah! Rejoice, mongrel, for you have the king's own luck! Now that you have summoned me, all your troubles have come to their end."
She spoke in a rich alto, sweet and smoky as the best golden-brown mead in her father's cellars. It was honey poured directly into the ears, with just a bit of hard bite underneath. Rin found herself savouring its sound until the words registered, then stared disbelievingly at the woman. Did she really just call her a—
"Nothing to say, mongrel? I suppose it is to be expected,' the woman preened. "My brilliance is that of the sun, after all!"
Rin ground her teeth. She might be beautiful, but her Servant was also unspeakably obnoxious. "I am your Master," she bit out. She glared as she lifted her hand, showing the seals tattooed in red.
The haughty expression remained firmly in place—no, it intensified. "That remains to be seen. You may have summoned me, but surely you don't expect to command the king? No, rather, it is the other way around. I will command, and you will attend me."
"Excuse me?" Rin's temper, always the chink in the iron of her self-control, flared up hot and bright in her breast. "Just who the hell do you think you are?"
"Are you unable to recognize me at a glance? How far have mortal eyes fallen!" The woman rose from her seat, moving with elegance and controlled strength. Rin knew herself beautiful, but even she never managed such an easy grace.
Damn her, does she have to look that good? Still she maintained her frown. She was the heir of Tohsaka. She would not lose her composure with a simple motion, no matter how appealing her Servant.
If the woman saw her inner turmoil, she gave no indication of it. Instead she grinned again as she lifted her arms high, gauntlets flashing gold. "I am Gilgamesh, King of Heroes! Be honoured that I have chosen to answer your call, and fall before my stunning beauty!"
"Not likely—wait, Gilgamesh?" Rin's brain caught up with her, forcing her mouth open in disbelief. "Gilgamesh of Uruk? That Gilgamesh?"
"The very same! Hah, now you realize the full depth of your good fortune!"
"But you're..." The most ancient of heroes, dating back to the earliest epics known to humankind. The snakeskin had been hidden away in her father's deepest effect, without a letter or an explanation. But now she understood her Father's boast that he would have the strongest weapon.
"You were my—" She bit down on her lip, choked the rest of the words threatening to pour from her lips. No, now was not the time for that. Right now she had to establish her Mastership.
At her Servant's raised eyebrow, she cleared her throat and crossed her arms, unconsciously assuming the 'lecturing' pose she was famous for among the students of Homurahara. "Ahem. You are my Servant? Then explain this!" She waved her hand, encompassing the rubble, "Why on earth did you destroy my living room? Is this your idea of a show of power?"
"Don't insult me, mongrel. As if I would resort to something so crude. I simply appeared in this broken hovel, not fit for a personage of my status. Rather, you should be begging my forgiveness."
"You—!" She was about to launch into a tirade, when her eyes happen to fall upon the wall clock that had miraculously escaped the devastation. The clock which now read ten past two o' clock, which meant—she flinched. Which meant it was actually one o'clock, wasn't it? Because the clocks had been set an hour late, and why was she remembering this only now? She could have kicked herself, if it wouldn't make her look even more ridiculous. The Tohsaka curse once again, she raged to herself, that ability to get everything right only to botch a crucial detail at the final hour. She had been short of her full magical strength, but acted as if she had access to it all. Which meant...
Which meant that this mess was probably her fault.
She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Alright, fine, she made a mistake. That still didn't excuse this amount of damage. And that arrogant smirk, placed mockingly below the elegant ridge of a nose that many girls would die for, did not help matters at all. Time to grab what shreds of dignity she had left and throw them over her shoulder. Her mantle as Master might be a bit tattered, but she would still wear it.
She lifted her chin, ready to order her Servant to clean up the mess. But try as her brain might to force the words out, they withered on her tongue every time she looked into that face. That noble face, with its clever eyes and widening grin watching her with growing amusement. It was wrong to imagine it bent over a dustpan, as impossible as caging the sun to heat her tea.
She almost backed down entirely, but the silver wire of her pride snaked up her shoulders and straightened them. Fine, she wouldn't order around her Servant like a drudge. She still needed to place herself on some kind of even footing, before she found herself floundering helplessly in the Servant's wake.
She glared at the woman. "Very well. I'll accept this is both our faults."
"My fault?" asked the king incredulously as if she had just declared the sky green.
"Yes. I may have made a small error in the ritual, but a Servant as powerful as you should have been able to mitigate the damage. So we'll do it like this."
Rin grabbed the broom and dustpan from the broken cupboard in the corner. She kicked against the nearest collapsed shelf, a maple-wood giant lying heavily on its side. "You lift, I clean. That shouldn't be such a great offense to the king's dignity, right? And we're supposed to be working as a team anyway. Think of this as practice."
Red eyes widened in astonishment before narrowing dangerously. The king's lips compressed into a grim line. Still Rin forced herself to stand tall. If she backed off now, quailed under those fierce red eyes, she might never find the courage to meet them again.
Then suddenly Gilgamesh burst out laughing, merry peals that vibrated in the air and hung there like a blaze of sunlight. Laughter without the slightest shame or restraint.
She leaned forward to grab Rin by the chin, turning the sputtering magus' face this way and that.
"Good! At least you have some fire to match your looks. You may make a suitable handmaiden after all."
"What?" growled Rin. " How dare you-"
"Fuahahaha! Don't yelp so, mongrel. You should be proud to be chosen by the king." She glanced around the room, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Very well, then. This shelf first?"
"Obviously," said Rin, not bothering to mask her irritation.
But Gilgamesh only laughed as she hooked a hand underneath the massive piece of furniture. She yanked it up as easily as Rin might have lifted a teapot, not the least bit of strain visible in her muscled arm. Admirable strength, but in such an infuriating woman.
No, don't give her the satisfaction of seeing you angry. And didn't you just say you wanted to work as a team? You have to show her you mean it.
So Rin contented herself with a huff as she swept up the broken glass. She muttered to herself as she melted each gathered shard back into the swinging cabinet doors with a quick bit of spellwork. It was more tiring than she cared to admit, but she did not dare complain. She could not show weakness, not after she had already screwed up up the summoning.
They worked in silence for a little while. Gilgamesh hauled up each piece of furniture under her direction, smiling with an indulgence that raised Rin's hackles a little higher with each passing moment. Then the magus would attempt to quell it by busying herself with the dust and splinters, which worked until the next time she glanced at her Servant's face and saw the mocking laughter in those eyes.
She was about to hurl down the pan and give her a piece of her mind, king or no king, when Gilgamesh suddenly threw aside the curtain rod she had just extracted from the rubble.
"This ceases to amuse, and we have much to do. You've shown your diligence, now watch your king settle the matter." She snapped her fingers. "Behold!"
Before Rin's dumbfounded gaze, a golden portal appeared in the air behind her, rotating slowly in the air. A fine leather bag emerged, thrust forth by an invisible hand. The red cord wrapped tightly around its mouth came loose. Then a roar of rushing air and strong winds surged from it, whipping her clothes and hair as they blew past her. In wonder, she felt them swirl around the floor, picking up dust and debris until they spun around in a mad dance around them. Shelves and tables rightened themselves, pulled into place by unseen hands. Chairs mended before her very eyes before obediently placing themselves under her restored table. In less than a minute, her living room stood pristine before her, as if nothing had ever happened. No, better than nothing – everything was spotless, not a single mote of dust on any surface.
She turned open-mouthed to her Servant, who was watching her with pride and amusement in her scarlet eyes. She huffed and turned her head up haughtily. "Hmph. I could have done that, if I wasn't drained from summoning you. If you think that's enough to impress me, you're sorely mistaken."
"I would be disappointed if you were," laughed Gilgamesh, light and airy as if smiling at the antics of a precocious child. "And what might your name be, little mage who is so very unimpressed?"
"Tohsaka Rin." This felt like progress of a sort, although she didn't care much for the patronizing tone. "You can call me Rin."
"Then rejoice, Rin, for you have only begun to witness my wonders. Now come! The night is yet young, and I wish to see my kingdom."
Metal boots padded against soft carpets before clinking on her best polished floors, as carelessly as if on dirt. The king held her head high as she strode towards the living room door, which opened wide at her approach.
"Wait! Where do you think you're going?"
"What is the use of beauty, if not to display it? What is the nature of a king, if not to claim her property? Out there skulk six pretenders to the title of hero, six thieves seeking my treasure. I will crush each one with grace and beauty! You wish to see my true power, my full glory? Prepare to feast your eyes!"
Rin found herself chasing those golden footsteps, down the hallway and towards the front chamber.
"Saber, wait!"
"Saber?" Gilgamesh turned to look at her, her noble brow creased with disdain. "If you must address me by something as dull as my Class, then at least do so properly. I am Archer."
"Archer? But Saber is the strongest class."
"To those poor enough to hold only one sword, perhaps. But the king holds a vault of them, as numerous as stars in the sky. Limit myself to a single one? Hah!"
"I don't understand. You're saying you have lots of Noble Phantasms?"
"I only need one, Rin. If you please me, perhaps I shall allow you to fully witness it. Fuhahaha!"
Her laughter rang through the night air, the rich vibrations carrying far on the breeze. Rin winced, thinking of what enemy might be observing them even now – to say nothing of her neighbours.
She watched the woman striding confidently down the pavement, as out of place as a dragon in a dog run, and heaved a great sigh of exhaustion and doubt and spent rage.
What have I gotten myself into, Father?