EDIT: I'll tie all of these chapters together again by saying this is what my mind thinks of when editing. Why did I start it? Why not! -Berix
So, I have to break some pretty unfortunate news to you all. Yes, as you might have guessed that means I'll be going on hiatus again. If you want someone to blame, you can direct it all at Brazilina (FFN:Pvsp). They're the entire cause, absolutely; don't look into it any further.
However, I refuse to leave you all hanging for this fic's ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY coming up at the end of October. I'll work on the next chapter until then to try and finish it, and I've been holding some ideas for something interesting for a while now which will also premiere itself for a limited time then.
A friend calls it an "omake", whatever that means.
Anyhow, I hope you enjoy what is only the beginning!
Kiritsugu settled his cup of coffee upon the large satellite image map draped across the table. It featured the entire layout of Fuyuki, with various small marks in three primary colours scattered about the city - hideouts, stockpiles, reconnaissance areas, potential forming sites of the Grail and previous battlegrounds of the last War. "The last most important piece would be to mark the homes of all certified masters: The Matou and Tohsaka families." With a large red marker, his apprentice did as suggested, making a large X over two separate buildings close to one another toward the south end of town. "We can mark the uncertain masters with circles," he guided. The Church and Edelfelt manor - both to the east - were quickly circled as well. Since they couldn't scout out each home individually, they had to make an educated guess on masters based on whether they were magi or not. It wasn't optimal, but it was better than nothing. With six marks on the map, Missy wavered over where to put the seventh.
"We don't have any other potential masters," she pointed out, settling back into her seat.
"Unfortunately," the man hummed. "We don't know of any other magi in Fuyuki either so the final master is a wildcard unless the Clock Tower decides to sponsor another magus as they did during my War." Curiously, the Magus Killer observed the back of his hand. Those familiar, half-formed crimson blotches still remained. Was the Grail merely waiting to make him a true master? If he were supposed to be the seventh master, which servant would he summon?
"Is there any more we can do for the young masters?"
Kiritsugu shook his head. "We've done all we can with the limited amount of information and resources we have. To make matters worse, I can't get in touch with my old contacts and you're too much of an unknown to track them down yourself so a large portion of possible assistance is entirely useless." In frustration, the man haphazardly tossed a small black book onto the table. It made a dull thud, slid to an abrupt halt and opened to a random page that contained minimalist, neat handwriting.
Feeling the projected hopelessness, the girl asked the only question floating around her mind. "Is there really nothing we can do?"
Taking a sip of his coffee, the man furrowed his brow. "Normally we could spy on other potential masters, but with my current status under lockdown, I can't do it myself. Even then, not all masters will be as kind as Rin and we almost had an incident the other day. As neither of us are masters, they don't have to abide by the rules established by the Church. We're both just inconsequential casualties."
Missy wrapped both hands around her own cup of tea. "So she only kept me alive because she knows me?"
"More or less," the Magus Killer agreed. "She may have kept you alive for Shirou's sake." Glancing toward the clock, the Magus Killer made a soft noise. "We should put this away before Shirou finishes his morning training, I just wanted this meeting to be quick anyway." Lifting his cup from the paper, the man carefully rolled up one edge and pushed it in Missy's direction.
Finishing the job for him, the girl formed a tight roll and bound it together with a simple string. "I'll make one last run to gather groceries before the start of the War. While we won't be here, Shirou will need them to feed himself and his servants."
The older man nodded. "Good idea. After you gather enough for Shirou, pick up additional supplies for us at the other location along with non-perishables and meal replacement bars in case this War lasts longer than expected."
With another task on her plate, the girl prepared herself to see it through. "I should be back before dusk," she claimed, getting a vacant agreement from her master just before she left the dining room.
Stepping outside into the afternoon sun, Missy used a small portion of her mind to play the part of an autopilot to her destination. It was a simple tactic that allowed the majority of her mind to focus on more important things like her memories. Things were almost coherent enough for her to understand bits and portions of her previous life. Still void of specifics, she could certify that she had lived in Japan, she had a family of some sort and she had come to Fuyuki searching for someone.
Who, why or if she found that someone was still an unknown. It was entirely possible that the serial killer who kidnapped her was the person she was searching for, but that merely complicated things even further. What was the reason for her search? Why a serial killer? Remembering her old life always brought with it a sense of uncertain anxiety as it likely would for anyone in her position. Would it be better to return to her old life, memory gaps and all, or would it be simpler to remain in the life she knew now? The one where she was a trained killer?
She had done a fair share of good working with Kiritsugu. Stopping potential wars before they had a chance to break out, removing massive amounts of drugs and unmarked weaponry from the common underworld. She had even taken down three rogue magi on her own. She couldn't fully comprehend Kiritsugu's reasoning, but it sounded important enough to get behind. All in all, Missy had killed dozens if not hundreds and for the strangest reason, it felt almost natural. It was the same way with holding a gun. No matter what type of weapon, it felt - for lack of a better word - right.
So would it really be better if she regained her memories and went back to whatever life she had? Wouldn't it be better to remain in Fuyuki, working alongside an experienced man to cleanse the world of true evil?
It was probably better to wait until her memories actually returned to ask those types of questions. Hypotheticals and unknowns were a breeding ground for overzealous imagination after all.
If she survived this War, she could start to consider recollecting the scraps of her old life.
If she survived.
… … …
… … …
Airports were always such a perplexing juxtaposition. Constant busy noise from people with nothing to do, scents of disinfectant, mingling perfumes and body odour and the perfect on-time order attempting to control mindless public chaos.
Noises, sights, sounds. It was overwhelming if you let yourself get lost in it. That was why the best option was to ignore it all completely. Even better if you could make yourself invisible to the public eye. The silver canister rotating around the baggage carousel had met the end of its travel and a hand quickly hefted it upward so that its sling caught its owner's shoulder.
This had never been the exact plan, but they had predicted that they would play a part in this for months. Forced into the role of master, they were unable to prepare, unable to discern the foe ahead, they had to bring everything - just in case it would come in use.
Stepping out of the terminal, familiar sights and scents struck all at once. There was nostalgia here, a sense of familiarity. With a moment of brief recollection over, they spoke. "Let's find the nearest place for a stiff drink."
A voice replied. "At two in the afternoon? Keep this up and we might just start to like each other."
A soft snort, a shake of the head. They were here now, though it wasn't like they could turn back before then anyway. Once they were together, their destiny had been sealed. While they may have been reluctant, neither one planned on dying. One of them even hoped to regale their story for years to come.
And as all good stories did, this one would start with a drink.
… … …
… … …
Skipping school again was enough to get Taiga infuriated. Arriving at the Emiya household in the evening, Kiritsugu was the only thing stopping her from tearing off his head and mounting it on a shinai. The old man ran defence, claiming Shirou was handling his schoolwork, just that he merely felt like staying home for a time, neither of which were lies, thankfully - Shirou was even able to prove his educational diligence after collecting what he needed a few days prior.
Following the summoning of his servant, his entire life had effectively ground to a halt. He couldn't go to school, he couldn't work at the Copenhagen and he couldn't even go outside for a walk without a servant escort. Saber was like the overprotective mother he never had and never really wanted.
She had a point, sure, but he could handle himself long enough for a servant to come to his aid. Besides, it would be an incredibly foolish decision by a magus to break the rules mandated by the Church. Shirou had fought an executioner once before - he didn't want to face another and he felt that outlook was synonymous with most magi.
With everyone home for the entire day, they managed to tear through a considerable store of board games before the two Emiya males broke the news of their plans to Illya and the servants. Lancer and Saber didn't seem phased either way. They likely considered one less liability to be nothing but beneficial. While the servants were apathetic, Illya was far from happy and she voiced that frustration with abandon. In the end, Kiritsugu was much more resilient in the plan than Shirou was. Where the younger Emiya would have folded, Kiritsugu merely sighed and restated that it was the safest option in the softest voice he could manage.
"Master, do you wish to abide by your father's guidance?" Lancer asked, staring at the small girl. Her features clearly showcased a steep conflict within her mind.
Following a heavy pout and an equally as childish groan, the girl crossed her arms. "Sure, whatever - I guess. Just listen to Shirou's orders like you listen to me."
Kiritsugu broke into a weak smile, something he had been doing far less frequently as time went on. "I'm glad you came to agree. Gather some clothes and we'll head out tomorrow, somewhere nobody should look for us."
Illya straightened abruptly, making a loud jarring noise as she nudged the table. "Right now? But the War doesn't really start until tomorrow, can't we stay here just one more night?"
Sighing, Kiristugu shut his eyes softly. "Yes, we can. But we'll have to leave at first light to avoid being spotted, so be prepared to wake up when Shirou does. These first nights are likely to be the hardest. Any master with a mind is bound to try prodding at our defences to see how difficult a foe we might be. For the first night, we should just wait and see what becomes of it. If there's no development we can act as the aggressor on the second night."
Shirou nodded simply, even while thoughts of a different matter roamed through his mind. They had gone over the first few nights dozens of times in the past but each plan of the old man's relied on information he'd expected to gather. Obviously he couldn't get anywhere near as much as he wanted, otherwise the plan wouldn't have turned to something so vague.
With roles decided, the group ate together in the house one last time. The tension around the table was so thick it could have been spooned out onto a plate to become another dish upon the table.
Nobody was talking, though whether it was in fear, nervousness or anticipation of what was to come wasn't entirely discernible.
Once the meal was devoured, the servants returned to their watchful posts while the remaining members of the house all went to bed early in preparation for what was to come.
Nightmares or not, Shirou would have to get some rest, otherwise, he wouldn't be at peak performance when he needed it the most. Settling into position on that side of the futon, he closed his eyes and prepared to drift off.
He would have too if it weren't for a whisper of his name preventing him. "I know you're awake," it claimed, forcing him to open his eyes. With a soft noise of annoyance, he shifted beneath the quilting to look at the perpetrator. The peculiarity of sleeping beside his sibling, who looked younger than him by a decade but was actually older by a year, was far from lost on him. "Well, I just thought that, since I'll be going early tomorrow and I'm not as talkative in the mornings, that I could tell you what I want to right now while I remember it."
Confused, Shirou scrunched up his face and wiggled to be more comfortable lying on that side. "What do you mean?"
The girl wouldn't look him in the eyes, staring at the pillow beneath his head instead. "Well in case we never see each other again I just wanted you to know that you're the best brother I could have asked for."
Confused, Shirou mounted a response. "Illya I'm not dying-"
"You might," she interrupted, finally looking into his eyes. "But it's not you I'm worried about," she paused, shifting his train of thought entirely. "Just in case someone gets to wherever we go-"
He made a noise that shushed her mid-sentence. "You'll be fine. Kiritsugu will be there to protect you and if you need him, Lancer will be there too." Pulling up his left hand, he flashed his command seals to her. "If you can't run away and you need Lancer to protect you, just use your command seals and summon him to you."
Shirou had absolutely no idea if such a thing would really work, but if the command seals were concentrated symbols of pure mana, they would theoretically be able to accomplish any request within reason, possibly even something near true magic. That possibility was merely increased when the master was as powerful as Illya. "But you're the one who really needs protecting," she argued.
He shook his head. "I'll be fine. Just promise me that you'll summon Lancer to your side if you're ever in real danger."
She hesitated for a moment, but silently agreed in the end. "I promise, if I need him I'll summon him."
Turning his back to the girl, he tried to settle into a relaxed, comfortable state. Even with his best efforts, he was reluctant to actually find sleep. It wasn't possible for him to be less excited about the nightmare which would undoubtedly come about. "Good, now let's get some sleep."
… … …
How many times would he return, how many times would he have to battle himself on that damned hill in the middle of nowhere? Was every night just going to be a repeat of this duel?
Snatching a familiar black weapon from the air, Shirou used it to shatter another incoming white one. Before he could commit to using the weapon, he quickly threw it forward where it homed in on another white sister-blade, shattering them both in mid-flight.
Contorting his body to avoid the next volley, he faced another set head-on, ducking at the last minute so the weapons that had reversed directions behind his back could collide over his head.
He planned to take a step up the hill but had he done so, he would have had his foot forcibly removed. Forming two fresh blades of his own into his hands, he lunged forward, taking down three weapons before spinning in the opposite direction of his strike to avoid being skewered with more.
It was as if he had gone through this battle constantly for days, but it was only during the brief hours of his dreams. Lifting his head disturbed his concentration but it allowed him to glare at that ominous black figure above him. That being with so much hate, so much fury in a shape identical to his own. During their battles, it had been growing stronger, while Shirou only seemed to weaken. Each dream started the same - friends, family, even strangers all dying horribly to a twisted arsenal of unstoppable weaponry.
Had he the power to do so, Shirou would have saved them and combated the force with an array of armaments of his own. Alas, in his dreams he could barely project a half dozen swords before his circuits just gave up entirely. He had watched his loved ones die so many times now, it almost stopped bothering him.
That was precisely what terrified him. Becoming more of a machine than a man. Becoming something even more twisted than his father, shrugging off the death of those close to him as if it were as easy as breathing. Lifting his blades to prepare for the next wave, Shirou caught his own reflection in the edge of his weapon.
There was no compassion in those cold, lifeless gray eyes. There was no anger in those blank features. At what point did a face share more similarities with a blank sheet of paper? He was likely close at that moment.
There was a wet noise and a sharp stabbing pain. Briefly looking down, Shirou caught a glimpse of a sword buried to the hilt in his abdomen. His body locked up, and three more struck him at various points across center mass, sending him tumbling down the hill to the base. As his body flattened out onto his back at the base, the boy could only gaze upwards. Staring up at the clouded orange sky, the world started closing in from the edges.
"If that's what it takes."
… … …
Unexpectedly, the entire day flew by much faster than the boy could keep track of. It felt like Kiritsugu and Missy carted Illya away before Shirou could rub the sand from his eyes. With a dreary goodbye, three members of the house piled into a car and drove off toward the farthest still-livable and safest location they knew of: The ruins of the Einzbern Castle.
It was fortifiable and, while somewhat expected, its location was reasonably unknown. An additional benefit was that the entire path through the forest could be laden with traps to dissuade or downright stop any interlopers. For Kiritsugu, it was the optimal position. Benefits aside, Shirou couldn't help but worry over their safety.
Nightfall came faster than Shirou wanted it to. He had crafted a simple but tasty meal for the remaining members of his house - just Saber and Lancer - and prepared himself for what might come.
The two servants agreed - opposite to Shirou's father - that their best move would be to avoid staying in the house. The reasoning was that it was a known location for at least two other masters. That meant there was a high probability for it to become a battleground of untold proportions. If they were gone, the worst another servant could do would be to destroy the house in their absence. While unfortunate, such a thing was almost certain to happen anyway if they were to try and defend it.
"If we're such a high-value target then why don't we find Rin and try to work together? There's strength in numbers, right?" Shirou asked, getting a strong disagreeing look from his servant.
"While I wouldn't recommend it, it is an extremely risky option which is available to us. There is no guarantee that the master you choose to work with won't betray you in the future, and it's possible they will attempt to kill outright on sight."
Lancer nodded along with his king, but tilted his head and smiled sadly in the boy's direction. "I believe the master that Shirou has in mind wouldn't consider either of those tricks, hence his willingness to form an alliance."
Still sitting rigid as a board, Saber closed her eyes softly. "In either case, we need to act carefully. During my war, a battle took place within the first night that involved five servants, including myself. If nothing else, that should serve as a warning for how quickly things can get out of hand."
Shirou pushed himself to a stand from his seat. "The fewer servants we have to kill, the easier it will be to shut the Grail War down for good. We can't focus on our ultimate goal if we're fighting to stay alive all the time."
"Agreed, though-"
"And you said we needed to leave the house tonight, or that it would be better if we did. Either way, we can kill two birds with one stone. We'll either be able to test the strength of an enemy or form an alliance, all while the house remains empty." As Shirou moved to vacate the dining room and prepare, his servants rose to follow.
Saber's voice stopped him before he was out of earshot. "Shirou, do you think your friend will respond as well as you expect when two servants try to meet her head-on?"
Pausing to consider the notion, he found himself agreeing wholeheartedly. Even approaching with a single servant would be taken as a threat and in a best-case scenario it would hinder negotiations toward an alliance. "Then I'll go without a servant," he suggested.
As expected and nearly on cue, Saber pointed out a glaring flaw in his plan. "You'd go undefended?"
Shaking his head, Shirou turned his body fully toward Lancelot. "How well can you imitate Missy?"
… … …
"I think our first move tonight should be to attack the Emiya household. We can catch Shirou off guard and eliminate him from the War quickly," Archer claimed. The servant was leaned up against the wall just before the main entrance with his eyes closed and arms crossed; a typical pose for him that she had made note of.
Rin shook her head, lifting a cup of tea from the plate upon the table to her lips. "I think that's the worst decision we could ever make. I have little doubt that the Emiya family has already planned to be attacked by every servant in the War collectively. While obviously more than any master or servant could handle, if anyone could find victory against such odds it would be them."
Archer made a tsk noise, and the floor creaked beneath his weight as he moved off the wall. "So our plan is just to sit around the house and wait for a master to come to us?"
After finishing a sip of tea, Rin scrunched up her face and stared down into the beverage. "Of course not, but we have to do things carefully so we aren't taken out early, or so we don't become everyone's prime target." Taking a sip and replacing the cup on the table, Rin turned to look at her servant directly. "Every master will be the most active today. Eyes will be everywhere and each move we make will be scrutinized to the extreme. There might even be a master waiting to take down the weakened survivors of a battle."
Archer stiffened and returned to leaning against the wall. "I'm not used to you being so tactically sound," he admitted, looking off through the large window. "You're usually much more reckless."
"You can thank me for that - and this world's you I suppose," a soft voice claimed from the direction of the stairs. Hauling a small rolling suitcase down with her, the woman stopped at the base of the stairs to get a good look at her daughter.
"I'll be leaving now and I'll wait for your call to let me know when it's over." The woman paused, body stiff and straight as she gripped at her own hands nervously. Rin stood to wish her mother farewell and was caught by a wave of sadness after catching the look in her mother's eyes. Tears glistened at their edges and it seemed to be taking all of Aoi's willpower to keep them there, evident by a partly twitching faux smile.
Approaching quickly, Rin embraced her mother tightly, forcing the emotions welling up within back into herself. Rin had long since come to terms with the possibility of her death, but seeing her mother get so emotional over the same thought was an all-new heartbreaking pain. "I'll be fine, I promise. Expect a call from me, okay?"
It was a lie, a lie neither one of them believed by the way Aoi tightened her grasp and produced a sobbing noise. "Please be safe," she whispered then broke from the embrace and recollected her bag. Standing in front of Archer, the woman stared into the man's silver eyes long enough to visibly discomfort him. "Protect my daughter, do whatever you have to. Even if it means - even if you have to kill yourself."
Unsure of what else he could do, the servant nodded shortly and without much more delay the woman took her leave. "I don't know what to do now," Rin sighed. Returning to her seated position on the couch, the girl placed her face in her hands. "I really should have expected it but seeing my mother that upset - I don't even know if I should fight in this War."
Archer remained silent for some time, giving the girl more than enough time to compile her thoughts and come to her own conclusion. Cautiously sipping her tea, Rin managed to finish it entirely without managing to create a sure-fire plan. Just when she was about to give up and go with Archer's initial idea, a sudden painful pulse fired straight to her head and immediately sent her standing. It was a signal from her bounded field, one that revealed that its defences had been broken. It revealed the position of the break as well, but that only confused her more. The enemy was coming straight at her from the front entrance. What kind of play was that?
Her servant had caught wind of the disturbance as well. The man made a strange noise and snapped his head to peer toward the front door. "It looks like your decision has been made for you." Archer raised his hands and a bow materialized out of nowhere. It was something Rin had never seen before, something modern and formed of composites in a sleek matte black. It wasn't Shirou's tried and tested bow made of wood, that much was clear.
A projectile was forming in preparation to be fired. It wasn't an arrow and it wasn't quite a sword, but something in between the two. Rin had only seen Shirou fire swords with a bow twice in her life and each time it had been incredibly destructive. Not only had the sword pierced whatever it was pointed at, but the bow had also exploded violently as it struggled to handle the intense force. Leaping from the seat and clearing the room in a moment, Rin gripped the bow in her servant's hands and directed it toward the ground. "What are you doing? Who is it?"
Peering through the front door garnered zero results. It was too dark outside and too bright inside to even see a silhouette through the frosted glass. Archer merely scoffed and pulled the bow free from her grasp. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it faded away into blue sparks. "It's one of the ugliest things I've ever seen. Since you've disrupted my shot, you'll have to speak with it, if it can even communicate." Still perplexed by what the servant had seen, he began fading away to spirit form. "I'll line myself up somewhere else just in case you decide you do want to kill it."
With her servant gone to act on his own, Rin refocused on the entrance. The edge of the bounded field was only a few seconds walk away, the intruder would have reached the door by now if they were walking forward so why hadn't they?
The knife in her mind pierced her heart, activating her circuits so she could reinforce her body. If this was an enemy, the most disgusting thing Archer has ever seen no less, she wanted to be prepared. Opening the door tentatively, the girl peeked down the darkened walkway, spotting two people: Shirou and Missy.
The boy was formally dressed for a change, donning a no-nonsense suit that held an equally dark tie. Unlike some of the suits Kiritsugu had worn, Shirou's lacked any subtle detail or striping. It was as textureless as possible, with a colour darker than the night. The only reason she managed to see him, was due to his contrasting silver eyes and hair, features that were identical to the servant she had just been speaking with. Missy was standing behind him, a short distance away wearing something much more casual: an olive blouse and dark jeans.
Rin deflated. She had been expecting something else entirely, not this. But why was Missy with him? Had Kiritsugu broken the number one rule of magi? Had he really involved a normal person in the magical world? Then again, the man wasn't known to follow rules - especially not magus rules - so it wasn't entirely unexpected. Opening the door, the girl stood in the doorway, placed both fists on her hips and narrowed her eyes in a menacing front. "I know you're a master, Emiya, and the Grail War starts today so I can only assume what you're here for."
Archer's voice echoed through her mind as she finished speaking. "I've got a shot, just say the word."
"Let's hear what he has to say first," she decided, getting another disgruntled noise from the servant.
The boy shook his head, raising both hands calmly in surrender and shouting so his voice would reach her. "I'm not here to fight, Tohsaka. Why would I come here without a servant if I was?"
He made a good point. Missy was the only person beside him. That other girl, Miyo, who was apparently some Kyudo representative or something, wasn't there either. So what servant had he summoned? Or was he just that stupid that he didn't bring a servant with him even after summoning one? Rin remembered that it was Emiya she was dealing with, so such a thing was absolutely possible. "Then what are you here for? To beg for my help? I'm sorry Shirou, but I won't give up my family's dream for you, even if you are important to me."
"That's not it," he declared, surprising her. "I don't have a wish for the Grail. Everything I could want, I can and have to accomplish myself. Making a wish and having all the effort done for me just makes that victory cheap, it's just a cheat." He took a step forward, keeping his hands raised. "Even if I did have a wish, the Grail would never be able to make it anyway. I could tell you all about the War, tell you why it's not worth fighting, but I think it's better for you to see things for yourself."
Rin was speechless. That was almost exactly what Archer had said to her. Maybe they really were alike, maybe Shirou's fate was to become a counter guardian. She wanted to believe him, to put her faith in him and work side by side with the boy she lo-liked, but she couldn't bring herself to commit to the idea, not yet. "Is that all you're here for?" she asked instead.
"I just wanted you to know that I'm not your enemy. If you want to be allies, we can, but-" Shirou abruptly cut himself off with a pained noise. Clutching at the side of his head, he shut one eye and locked onto something up on the roof. Even from a distance in the dark, she could see his eyes widen. Before Rin could even ask what was wrong, there was a flurry of movements as Shirou scrambled to move, even Missy seemed to light up with surprise. Stunned by confusion, Rin could only gasp as a heavy pressure wave from an explosion struck her chest and obscured the boy entirely.
Flames, smoke and crackles of free mana particles expanded quickly to encompass the entire area, concealing everything within. Putting the pieces together far later than she should have, Archer certified his guilt with a calm, questioning "did I hit him?" Rin couldn't even react properly. It was as if a breaker had shut off in her mind and it was waiting for someone to reset it. Had her servant just killed himself in cold blood? With a single shot, had he put an end to someone so close to her?
Reeling, the girl grew furious and thrust both hands into her hair. "What do you think you're doing you, idiot? I never told you to shoot at him! God, you're even stupider than this Shirou and I didn't even think that was possible!"
"I'm eliminating a high-risk master before they can become a problem." The servant paused, audibly growling through her head. "But it looks like I missed."
Still watching the smoke clear, Rin caught sight of two shifting figures within. Stirring from the ground was a coughing, pained Shirou who was in the midst of stumbling away from her home with Missy to assist. The woman was shooting Rin an accusing glare, saying something indecipherable. Shirou obviously understood it, as he shook his head violently.
"This next one should be enough," Archer claimed, restarting Rin's mind.
The girl threw up her right hand and connected her magic circuits to the seals burned onto her skin. "Don't you dare, I will use a command seal on you if I have to!"
There was a lengthy pause, long enough for Rin to worry about whether or not Archer was going to go through with his plan regardless of her threat. As she was about to ask if he had spontaneously died, his voice returned. "Fine, but you'll be squandering the greatest opportunity we have."
Releasing an already exhausted sigh, Rin took a step outside and waved one hand to catch Shirou's attention as the boy divided his attention between looking over himself and looking for the attacker. "Are you alright, Emiya? I'm sorry but my servant is a little slow - mentally." The irony of subtly calling Shirou an idiot to his face without him even knowing wasn't lost on her, though her enjoyment was lessened due to her concern.
Waving his hand to waft away the smoke, Shirou stood and coughed into his hand. "No, no, it's fine. Attacking a defenceless master who just wants to talk is totally fair game, I get it," he claimed sarcastically. Coughing to clear his lungs a few more times, Shirou scanned the perimeter for further threats, rightfully on edge. "I take it your servant is Archer then?"
Rin twitched, both in anger at his sarcastic comment and because of his surprisingly on-point guess. She supposed that it wasn't really that difficult. What other servant class could fire explosive projectiles from seemingly nowhere? She couldn't be angry with that, she was angry with the fact that he now had more information than she did. Shirou knew what servant she summoned already while she still had no definite idea what servant he had. Then again, Emiya was a simple, honest boy. She could toy with him to get the answer easily enough. "And you've summoned Saber, isn't that right?" Relying on Archer's possibly incorrect information, Rin made a gamble.
The boy didn't make a blatant face of shock, but the subtle tensing of his body and sharpening in his eyes revealed more than she could have hoped. "How did you know that?"
"Interesting decision not to decline, but admit guilt through a question," Rin pointed out, smiling at his simple mistake. Even after the struggles and rigorous training he had no doubt gone through, Shirou was still as easy to coerce and interrogate as ever. The boy simply couldn't lie - at least not with his face showing.
"Tohsaka you know I can't lie, so even if I did I wouldn't be able to get away with it," he complained, rubbing the back of his neck.
Rin found herself smirking. She hadn't spoken to Shirou in some time and had nearly forgotten how enjoyable it was. "As for how I knew you summoned Saber, well," she paused to flick one of her twintails with the back of her hand teasingly. "Just call it my woman's intuition." As soon as Rin began to enjoy their interaction, she reminded herself of what they were involved in and the smile immediately soured.
Shirou hardly seemed to notice, still occupied with looking himself over to make sure he wasn't missing parts. "Since that's how your servant reacted, I don't think it's a good idea for us to team up. So why not just a ceasefire then? We won't have to protect one another but we don't have to attack each other either. Neutral parties to each other."
Looking at the small crater that used to be her walkway, Rin contemplated her decision. On one hand, Shirou was a powerful ally and he was practically throwing himself at her to act as her partner. On the other, her servant, the narcissist, had already reacted so violently to himself. Who was she to say he wouldn't try killing him again at some point, a point where she wouldn't be there to stop him?
Rin's heart fell. As much and as often as she called the boy an idiot, he was far from it in reality. Shirou had come here for a specific reason otherwise he wouldn't have been so desperate for an ally. Had he witnessed a master or servant that demanded teamwork with others? What if he moved on to ask another master and left her behind? There was a chance he would ask Sakura and then her sister would win their little battle over him with ease. While they agreed to share, they still fought for the majority of his attention. At least, they had been, before the Grail War reared its ugly head. Scowling deeply, she reconnected with Archer. "Damn you, you big idiot. Even if I wanted to partner up with Shirou you've ruined my chance. There's no way he will agree when he thinks you're trying to kill him!"
She didn't get a response but hoped he felt bad regardless. "A cease-fire will work fine," she sighed. "If I figure out what you mean about the War, I'll come talk to you, alright?"
Rin was left speechless as the boy nodded and expressed a polite farewell before vanishing into the night. Going over the events once more in her mind, she concluded who the real idiot was: herself. Why hadn't she specifically told Archer not to attack once she realized who it was? Why did she not jump at the chance to work beside him?
Groaning loudly and sinking into a compact squat, the Tohsaka lowered her head and gripped at the sides tightly. "Why does everything have to go so wrong? I summon my own boyfriend as a servant and I have to fight my real boyfriend to the death in a magical war."
"I'm right here you know," the servant commented, eliciting another sorrowful noise from the girl.
"Good, I wanted you to hear it anyway," she huffed.
Archer made a soft sigh, holding his tongue while Rin silently condemned herself for being foolish. "I must admit, I am rather concerned. During my War, Saber followed me around like a lost dog. She was unable to enter spirit form, so she had to. So even if this Shirou has summoned a different person, where are they hiding?"
Grumbling, the girl tried to decide on her next move. She could go after him and form an alliance, she could send Archer out to finish the job he started or she could do something much simpler. Lifting her head from between her knees, the girl produced an order. "I want you to watch over him from a distance, can you handle that?"
"An interesting decision, master. I'll leave right now." Before the servant could dematerialize, Rin stood, turned and shouted at him to hold his attention.
"I'm limiting your mana draw and I'll be watching to make sure you don't project anything." Pointing an ominous finger at his face, the girl sharpened her eyes. "If you even try I'll use a command seal so fast-"
The servant lifted up both hands. "I understand. You want me to be a totally neutral observer. If I die because I'm unable to defend myself though, that's your fault."
"If you die I'll take full responsibility. And if you want to avoid that, just don't let any of the other servants see you," the girl claimed.
… … …
A bolt of lightning was slow in comparison to how fast Shirou's mind was working. There had been so much data, so much information. He should have died to that blade, but something had warned of his incoming doom in advance. It was mysterious and ephemeral, a vision of sorts that was equal parts familiar and entirely foreign.
That was nothing compared to the blade itself, which had been the cause of such unexpected and careless destruction. It was a blade made entirely of mana. Considering Saber's blade was also made entirely out of mana, that wasn't the strangest thing to hear, but the configuration and design were identical to his own. It had been a sword projectile, but it was a sword designed to be fired from a bow just like an arrow, precisely like Shirou had experimented with. The configuration even matched some of the weapons he had used. The differences between a mana-based weapon like Saber's and his own projections were comparable to the differences between cubic zirconia and genuine diamonds. While they appeared identical, the atomic structural makeup couldn't be any more different and a master of structural grasping like himself could see that as plain as day.
There was only one person Shirou knew that could create weapons with that sort of makeup: himself. Though, was he really the only person who could create something like that? Perhaps there were others or historical legends who had a similar process that was leagues beyond his own - that would explain the peculiar homing feature it had at least.
Considering the weapon brought his focus to the impact it left behind. Shirou didn't like to gloat, but his response to the threat had been commendable as well. Rather than try to block the attack directly, he merely projected whatever popped into his mind to move the sword off course. It had worked, albeit barely. Unlike normal projectiles, that one had curved in mid-air just like a homing missile. Perhaps it was the servant's ability? Or another ability among many?
A loud, feminine shout of his name finally broke his involved rumination. Abruptly stopping his halt and turning to face the sound, he spotted Missy - or what appeared to be Missy at least - staring at him in disbelief. "Shirou, why did you forbid me from returning the attack? I had a clear visual. If you had only projected a bow I could have-"
Shaking his head indignantly, Shirou raised a hand to his forehead. He had contracted an incredible migraine after leaving the Tohsaka manor and he hadn't the faintest idea as to why. "No, I meant everything I said. I don't want to attack Rin if I don't have to, she and Sakura are my," he paused, considering how to word it without coming off as too attached. "Rin is a good friend," was what he settled on.
Hearing the servant's manner of speaking in Missy's voice was unnerving, the formal and dignified speech from a woman known to be educated and quiet was a subtle but glaring contrast. "Even after narrowly escaping death, you choose to brush it off and settle with peace. An admirable quality to be sure."
Hissing in pain as the headache grew worse, Shirou threw one last look toward the Tohsaka manor. "I'd just prefer if we could make it out of this without fighting anyone at all. I know it won't be possible, but I can dream and hope - can't I?"
Twisting to search for Saber in the designated meeting spot, he was unable to see the concern on Lancer's disguised features but his voice showcased it well enough. "Are you feeling alright? While I haven't known you for all that long, you don't seem like yourself."
Walking forward as he shut his eyes, Shirou pressed one hand against the side of his head. "I'm fine, I'm just-" he paused, uncertain of what he was feeling. He was being bombarded with questions at every turn and the uncertainty was getting to him. "I'm just a little stressed."
Opening his eyes to focus on his path, he caught sight of Saber sprinting into view from around the corner. As her eyes landed on him, her eyes lit up and she immediately began relaying new information. "Shirou, you returned just in time. An incredible amount of magical energy is being released to the east."
"Is it a servant?" Shirou asked first while Saber approached.
Within normal speaking distance, the woman stared valiantly into his eyes. The shade of green was so intense in the low light that it was actually causing him pain from the migraine. "It's entirely possible. During my first War, a servant did something similar in order to challenge others to a battle. It was the first component to the five-servant battle I spoke of some time earlier. That being said, it's equally possible that two servants have engaged in battle to produce the effect."
"To the east?" Humming in slight pain, Shirou rapidly considered the direction. "Just across the Mion River or far away?"
Saber's eyes twitched partly before she answered. "Just a short distance, though it's hard to triangulate with precision." Pulling up a mental map of the area, Shirou came to a single conclusion that made him stiffen on the spot: Luvia's house was in that direction. Was she a master as well? It was possible since she was a magus and she had been in Fuyuki. She even had a strong desire that the Grail could have taken into account.
If Luvia was a master, there was a strong chance that the mana signature Saber detected was a sign she was under attack. While her goal was to kill his father, the Magus Killer, they had still been friends in another life, that had to mean something. Maybe if he explained his reasoning and why her goal was so foolish, she would drop it altogether. Trying to keep everyone alive in a battle to the death was already getting exhausting and his migraine wasn't helping the situation. At the very least, it was gradually fading. "How fast can we get over there?"
There was a wild glint which formed immediately in Saber's eyes and the beginning of an unsettling, overjoyed grin blossomed on her face. The woman reached into the breast pocket of her suit, withdrawing a single key that glimmered in the soft moonlight. "That depends entirely on how tightly you can hold on."
A pit formed in Shirou's stomach, every instinct declaring that whatever the knight had planned was dangerous if not outright deadly. Although, with no time to debate other options, what choice did he really have?
… … …
… … …
Of all the women in his life to meet head-on, it had to be her. It couldn't have been Fergus mac Róich, Cú Roí, Ferdiad, Lóch mac Mofemis, The Morrígan or even one of his sons.
It had to be her, the foulest existence he had ever known. She had kept him at close range for the past few minutes, but after a stumble on her end, he had a chance to break away. Lifting his staff high, a wall of rock formed between the two and an effeminate squeak sounded from the opposite side. Leaping backward, the man thrust the same staff forward, shattering the wall with a blast of concentrated air to shower his target in rocks of varying sizes.
Slamming his staff on the ground while leaping upward, he was launched dozens of meters into the sky. From there he panned one hand across his front, forming several glowing runic sigils in the air in an ominous red. Shortly after forming, each rune turned into a fireball that shot forward at an incredible speed. For good measure, the man formed another barrage by moving his hand back to where it had started. As each fireball impacted the ground, a huge blast decimated the land below and concealed the area with smoke.
It seemed that his miserable luck followed him beyond the grave, as he wasn't even summoned in his true class. Being part of such a pitiable, lowdown class was just another dagger in his back.
Landing on the ground with a soft thud, the servant swirled his elongated wooden staff around his front before tapping it on the ground. "I told you then and I'll tell you now. All the drink in the world wouldn't be enough to make me even consider bedding you."
Even though smoke and dust clouded his vision, he could see the mana radiating from his mortal enemy just fine. She was alive for sure, though it wasn't as if he had expected those meager fireballs to kill her anyway.
There was a bright, cheerful giggle from within, a noise which simultaneously sickened and haunted him. "Oh my precious hound, stop being so dramatic. Whether you know it or not, you've already submitted yourself to my undying love the moment you first declined."
Grimacing, the man slashed his staff horizontally, blowing away the smoke with a gust of wind. There were dozens of large craters spread out over a considerable area. Small streams of smoke were beginning at the edges of these craters, where the heat had singed once-green grass. Standing in the middle of the devastation on the only untouched piece of earth was a truly twisted existence. While her appearance was equal to that of a goddess, the woman inside was more akin to the devil himself.
A meagre five-foot-two and a near-emaciated ninety pounds, she was light enough for him to throw like a baseball. Those proportions worked rather well for her outfit at the very least. For how tempting and alluring it was, it was surprisingly modest, concealing everything from the upper mid-thigh to the shoulder. The curve-hugging rose-pink ensemble was incredibly intricate, with several thin layers that beautifully tied together. Thin chiffon, flowing silk and transparent hardened feather-like segments around the skirting offered an almost angelic appearance. The entire outfit seemed to maintain a pristine sparkle as if it were finely coated in gemstone dust. Covering her hands to the elbow were incredibly fine gloves which featured the only contrasting portion of her attire, a frilly black portion which extended beyond her elbow. There was a single piece of metal on her entire body, a snug silver collar around her shapely neck.
The head above the aforementioned collar was something else entirely. It would be more fitting to see atop an immaculate statue made of the finest stone than on a living woman. Velvety smooth, blemish-free ivory skin with a soft, permanent rosen blush. Bright, joyous amber eyes that resonated with a fierce inner fire. Sharp but simple features set in permanent enjoyment with a wide, welcoming smile complemented by soft dimples. Atop her head was an ice-like tiara with peculiar spikes. It served to divide her incredibly long pink hair, keeping two thin strands to frame her face while the rest fell down her back.
With a soft flick of the wrist, the riding crop in her hand made a sharp snap against her own arm. Ominously, the striking end seemed to take on a reddish aura. "Just be a good boy and bow down to your supreme queen," the girl cooed, swaying her hips alluringly.
With the sourest expression he could manage, the caster turned to one side, extending his staff to point at the woman directly. "If you expect me to do that, you're even more clueless than I remember."
Pulling both hands to her chest, the woman turned her shoulder to him and pouted heavily. "I don't remember my dog ever having so much bite."
Snarling, the man formed a rune four times as large as the others at the end of his staff. "Come a little closer and you'll remember it much more vividly." Funnelling mana into his attack, the man watched his enemy cautiously. He had created this rune under the assumption that she would advance. Rather than a raw fireball that he had used earlier, this attack was a blistering gout of flame. It couldn't be dodged, but the range limited its effectiveness.
Unexpectedly, the girl continued holding her saddened pout for a few tense seconds. Wondering whether the last scraps of her brain had dribbled out her ears, he was surprised when she looked up at him with an equally as saddened grin. "Unfortunately I can't keep toying with you, my adorable dog. Your master seems to be more than they can handle."
Dispelling the rune, the man lowered his staff so it could rest back at his side while he looked off into the distance. "Hopefully your master has to retreat and we can stop this battle, I'm still not in the mood to even look at you."
"So you do want to look at me sometimes?" Snapping his head to look back at her with emboldened rage, the woman's newfound manic smile rapidly shifted to unmistakeable worry. "Scary hound," she murmured as her body faded away into a cloud of snowflakes.
Lowering his head once he was gone, the man released a lengthy sigh. It couldn't have been anyone else, anyone at all. Following the line of mana that led back to his master, he informed her of the situation. Assuming they were in combat, he left his message brief. "You've got company on the way. Could have, but don't want to stop her, will tell you later over a beer."
Staring up at the darkened sky, the man took a great inhale of hot smouldering air, catching a whiff of identifiable perfume that ruined his entire mood once more. "A few more seconds is all this should take," a confident woman's voice returned to him, coming across as strained. That brought a small smirk to his face. If she had nearly wrapped things up already then she had to be at least half as good as she claimed.
Deciding to start walking back, the servant moved his staff to settle over his shoulders. With his front-facing a new direction, he became aware of a distant noise. It was a continous growling, barking noise which grew louder with each passing moment. In the middle of considering what it might be, he was interrupted by his master's voice once again. "Caster, I hope you only knew about the one servant because if you knew about all three I'm going to kick your ass. Get the hell over here, now!"
Twitching at the panicked about, Caster rapidly shifted his body to spirit form and took flight across the landscape toward his master. Three servants, add him and that made four. It seemed like his bait had worked a little too well. At the very least, tonight would be far from uneventful.
… … …
Holding on for dear life was an understatement. Saber decided that the best way to get across Fuyuki was by vehicle, a motorbike to be specific. Lancer wholeheartedly agreed though that was likely because he had his own bike and didn't have to ride as a passenger. Together, the two servants sped through the streets of Fuyuki like demons straight from the pits of Hell. Shirou had wanted to get there as soon as they could, but he also wanted to arrive alive as well, a memo Saber seemingly missed.
The bike itself was something Shirou had never seen before, but it was supposedly gifted by Kiritsugu shortly after their summoning. It didn't take the boy more than a glance to realize that significant modifications had been performed from the ground up. Performance semi-slick tires, updated front and rear disc brakes. It even had an updated suspension to make the bike much stiffer for greater handling. All of the handling upgrades worked in tandem with a brand new engine featuring forged internals all with the goal of maximizing performance and preserving durability. That durability was also much needed, considering a forty-shot nitrous kit had also been installed.
While Saber hadn't used it - so she claimed - Shirou couldn't honestly tell sitting on the back. What would have normally taken thirty minutes at a leisurely, law-abiding pace, had hardly taken five. Dismounting from the mechanical beast, Shirou thanked whatever deity had smiled on him long enough to survive the trip. It took him a few seconds to take in the situation and begin his evaluation.
The destruction of the landscape was incredible. Most of the grass surrounding the manor and a path leading away was vacant, replaced with miniature craters holding fresh, upturned dirt. The grass which did remain was coated in a fine layer of dirt, with the occasional clump clearly sticking out above the blades. The edges of the craters were singed, with some still smouldering to produce a thick, burning scent that purveyed the entire area.
Tightening the gloves upon her hands, Saber viewed the scene and made her own deduction. "So a battle between two servants then." Extending her hand, an invisible sword formed within her grasp.
Lancer, still acting as Missy, contributed his own opinion. "The path of destruction leads away from the house, perhaps one servant drew the other away?"
Narrowing his eyes, the boy took note of the silence. "But where are they now?" Shirou asked, walking toward the manor.
As if on cue, a blur violently exploded from the second-floor window. Glass sprayed from the outside in and within seconds, a dark blob of something collided with the ground.
Running forward on autopilot, Saber shouted for him to wait but he had already committed to his idea. Activating his tracing, two blades formed within his grasp and a third struck the ground behind him. It was a copy of the weapon Lancer had asked for during their spar, just in case the servant also needed a weapon.
Within the first few steps forward, the fallen blob shifted until it stood upright in a twisted, humanoid form. It was easily the height of two men and at least six feet wide. Humanoid in shape only, the being was top-heavy with an oblong, gaudy shape that made it hard to differentiate where the shoulders, neck and head actually were. Arms just seemed to sprout from the sides, large tree-sized appendages that ended in rounded nubs. The legs were similar, but the feet were wide stump-like bases, likely for stability.
Tracing active, Shirou determined that it was a being made entirely of mana, of ether. It was familiar, but in a new style the boy had never witnessed - still, it was easily recognizable to him as one of Lectra's creations. The creature's existence meant that she was alive at the very least, which was a weight off his shoulders. She was a sweet girl and he would consider them friends had he not betrayed her trust and lied to her face for months.
Breaking his reflection, Shirou realized there was a person fighting the ether monster, someone unmistakable. His mind hit a sudden wall, but the pieces fell into place quickly. "Bazett?" he shouted questioningly. Immediately, the woman in question snapped her head back in surprise, locking eyes with him for a moment as they both recognized what was going on.
The recognition didn't last as long as the enforcer returned to her main priority, the ether monster. The creature had launched a surprisingly fast overhead swing, which the enforcer halted with a cross-arm guard. With a loud grunt, the enforcer bent at the knees and pushed her entire body upward, throwing the monster stumbling backward. With a left hook, the woman cleaved the creature's entire left leg in two, sending it careening onto its side.
Off-balance and far from centered, the ether construct fell onto its back with a ground-quaking noise. Not wasting a moment, the enforcer hefted one foot high in the air. Flames suddenly ignited at her heel and as it crashed down to the earth, a blast of flame razing the entire ether construct, rendering it down into nothing more than a fine powder.
With one threat finished, Bazett twisted on her heels to face Shirou directly, eyes flickering to watch those approaching at his side. The two remained silent, unable to work out what to say. After a period of painful silence, the older woman spoke first. "So you here to kill me, kid?" Nodding her head upward, he remembered the blades in his hands. So much was racing through his mind. This was his first momentous decision in the Grail War and it was unlikely to get any easier. In order to protect one of his friends, he would need to sacrifice another, but who was he to choose?
His head drifted downward. He had known a time like this would come, but why did it have to come so soon? What use was all of the training and planning if he couldn't bring himself to actually commit to them? "I-"
His name was shouted, and it was enough to snap his head upright. Bazett had shot forward into range, with one fist reared back to lash out. She was too close for him to block and much too quick for him to consider trying. Trying to save himself how he could, Shirou twisted his body backward, trying to make what distance he could and reduce the incoming impact. During their training years ago, a strike like that would have been enough to disable him for the entire day. At full strength, it was entirely possible that it would destroy his organs.
Shutting his eyes and grimacing in preparation for the pain, he was surprised when none arrived, but a loud clang echoed throughout the night. Hands wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him stabilized before just as quickly departing. Re-opening his eyes, the explanation revealed itself.
With the spare sword he had projected, Missy had intercepted the attack by placing the flat of the blade in the woman's striking path. Standing tall, the disguised servant glared ominously at the enforcer, who held a peculiar expression as she looked at her knuckles. Opening her mouth to speak, Lancer let the facade fade away. Missy's body was shrouded in a fleeting cloud of inky black, revealing a fully armour-clad knight in its wake.
From his position, Shirou could watch all seven stages of grief wash across Bazett's face in a second. "Two servants," she murmured, tightening her body. "You wouldn't consider that last attack an accident, would you?"
Lifting the ivory and gold weapon from the ground, Lancer snapped into a combat-ready stance. "Just like the barbarian to surrender at the first sign of resistance."
Striding past Shirou, Saber donned her own kingly armour before standing beside her own knight. With a heavy clank, the invisible weapon in her grasp mirrored her comrades' stance. "If you wish to engage in combat, bring forth your servant, but we will not allow you to harm our master."
Shirou's mind was at the tail end of restarting and as the process completed, his body snapped into a combat-ready position. He had considered working with Bazett but now deemed it impossible. The woman was a proud enforcer who took little attitude, even from a man as notorious as the Magus Killer. While she would have been a powerful ally, she would have never swallowed her pride or bought into the secret facts he held on the War.
Positioning himself behind and between the two servants, he stared into Bazett's eyes and the two found respect over the newborn battlefield.
Before the tension grew disturbing, a voice rang out through the night. It was sweet enough to give cavities and rather than from a single source, the sound blanketed the area from every direction simultaneously. "Will any servant do?"
Over Bazett's shoulder, Shirou clocked the formation of a servant and was immediately floored. It was an impossibly beautiful woman that demanded his eye's attention. He couldn't explain it, but it was a beauty that felt undeniably forced or fake. It was likely a result of magecraft, unlike Saber who naturally pulled something similar off.
In the middle, Bazett caught on to where everyone else was watching and looked over her shoulder to spot the new enemy herself. "Trapped between two servants and a whore, how fun." With a speedy leap to the side, the woman put everyone nearby toward her front, keeping her back protected.
"By that response, I take it that the woman behind you is not your servant." Making a gesture with her blade, Saber pointed the invisible tip toward the woman in question.
Lancer let down his guard somewhat and turned his head to keep one eye on the new servant and his king. "I could tell in our spar that you've been itching for a fight, so I believe I'll offer you the honour of duelling this servant first, my liege."
The servant of pink tilted her head. "A duel, my liege? While your beauty pales in comparison to mine, you would make a much better queen than a king." Shirou didn't even have to see Saber's face to know her eye twitched at the comment. Shirou had made the unfortunate decision of making a similar comment and it had thoroughly annoyed the servant.
"Mind your tongue. There is no reason for this engagement to become a trial of insults."
The pink servant giggled softly. "I apologize if it seems I insulted you, I merely express the truth for there is no woman of past, present or future who can compare to my beauty."
Parting his attention from the coming battle, Shirou turned to face Bazett, who was being held at a safe distance by Lancer's watchful eye. Like always, she was wearing her burgundy leather gloves. Because of that, he couldn't tell for certain whether she was a master or not. He opened his mouth to speak but the woman started before him. "So why haven't you killed me?"
Blinking, Shirou was momentarily distracted by the sound of battle. "Is that what you want me to do? Nobody has to-"
"Six servants need to die and it's usually easier to kill the master than the servant." Facing him, the woman narrowed her eyes. "So, what are you waiting for?"
The boy was silent, considering the implications. "This would all work better if-"
The woman cut him off sharply, maintaining that accusative glare only she could pull off. "Remember what I told you: Don't stop fighting until your enemy is dead."
Like an alarm bell going off on his head, every sense told him that something was wrong. Reinforcing his body, he called up another stage of defence in his mind, shields. With several imagined in his mind, the boy started projecting them around his body like a steel tomb. But it was likely too late. Already, a wave of heat lashed out at his back and it grew hotter with each passing moment. Shutting his eyes and tucking his head down toward his chest, the best he could hope for was to survive whatever was about to strike.
… … …
… … …
Stumbling over a patch of broken concrete, Lectra felt herself being yanked into step by the hand. Panting, the woman asked if they could slow down but Luvia was resolute. The shorter of the two gripped at her chest to try and calm a sudden stabbing pain. Creating so many fortified ether constructs had drained her entirely. It had taken every ounce of mana she had to keep that enforcer at bay and it had only been enough because they were further bolstered by Luvia's gems. "That enforcer's taken out the last of my constructs."
"That's fine, it held on long enough for us to get away so good job." Pausing to take a large breath, Luvia continued speaking. "Did you see through the window? Shirou arrived with two more of those people. That makes four in total, so it's good we made an escape while we could before everything started exploding - more than it already had been anyway." Rounding a corner, Luvia continued tugging on her hand like she was an ignorant mutt, leading her further away without regard for her condition. While the Edelfelt had taken a beating of her own, she could have been slightly more considerate.
Gasping for air, Lectra bared her teeth and focused on moving her painfully sore legs forward. She hadn't felt this much pain since she used that weird jewelry during her last battle in the previous year's Magus Tournament. At least then her body had been kind enough to let her pass out.
Rounding another corner, Lectra caught her foot on the edge, sending the rest of her body sprawling onto the ground as her hand slipped from Luvia's. Lectra lifted her head but her vision was blurred and the colours were extremely washed out. Even her hearing had faded away as Luvia's speech sounded like they were both underwater.
Struggling to her feet, Lectra used the wall and her friend for balance. She subconsciously recognized that an arm had slipped beneath one arm to wrap around her body. Gradually, the blurred images within her eyes righted themselves, becoming complete within a dozen seconds. When Lectra returned to herself, they were in an entirely new area, heading down a dimly lit alley with a street lamp illuminating the other end of the street at its exit. "Just a little bit more, stick with me, alright? I bought a little place just down the street for situations like this."
Panting out an agreement, Lectra struggled to keep her legs moving so she wouldn't be dead weight. Without having to support her own mass, the task was much easier. A dozen feet from the end, a dark red shape moved into position and Lectra struggled to focus on what it was.
"Shirou?"
It was a question both girls asked at the same moment as they looked upon the boy standing ominously ahead of them. Even with her pain-distorted vision, she could see him twitch in the low light. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Luvia decided to continue. "Why are you wearing that weird get-up?"
Looking down at himself, he cleared his throat and responded in a rather raspy tone. "I thought it looked kind of cool."
Lectra wanted to say that it was the sort of outfit someone trying to hard for a fantasy roleplay would wear but she couldn't summon the energy. She wanted to be friends. Even if he was Blade, even if he had lied to her and hurt her in ways he couldn't even understand, all she really wanted was her friend back - the boy who had treated her so kindly when nobody else would, the boy who led her to so many new friends and even opened up the chance for her to have an actual relationship.
Her heart ached because of him, but it also hurt due to the lack of him. Lectra hadn't realized that an abnormally long amount of time had passed since anyone last spoke. Luvia decided to take charge again. "Well, I think this is the most awkward situation I've ever been in." Shrugging Lectra up tighter against her own body, Luvia continued. "Lectra is hurt so can we just get by this once? What are you doing here anyway?"
The boy shuffled in place and crossed both arms over his chest. "To be honest, I've recently taken up a trade as a vigilante. You just happened to be down one of the alleys I was checking on this night's run."
Lectra tried to keep her eyes open, but a looming sense of fatigue seemed to be creeping across her entire body. She was leaning more and more into the arms of her friend and safety seemed ever more distant. "I guess that would explain the ridiculous outfit, though won't people recognize your face?" Lectra had known Luvia just long enough to know where she was going with the comment and panic bloomed in her slow mind. "So where's your scarf?"
It was a question that Lectra would have preferred to ask at any other time. Right now, they were both wounded and the last thing they needed to do was piss Blade off. If anything, they needed his help to survive whatever was going on. "I think I left it at home. Do I often wear a scarf?" It wasn't the response Lectra had expected at all. Was her relief greater than her sense of worry?
Luvia made a haughty noise. "Even when you're caught you keep lying. We know you want to kill us but I know you like Lectra." Even halfway to passing out, the comment made Lectra herself embarrassed. "So as a favour for her, just let us go and we'll pay you back later alright?"
There was another long period of awkward silence. By the time Shirou responded, Lectra was allowing most of her body to be supported by her friend; unable to keep her own weight aloft with her two shaking legs. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't believe I've ever met that girl."
Lectra could almost hear Luvia rolling her eyes. "You were at the Clock Tower for a year, you two fought in the Magus Tournament together. What's the point in keeping up this lie if you've already been caught?"
The man laughed, a hollow bitter sound that was nothing like the Blade she knew. "I suppose you're right. Remind me, did I ever use some sort of forbidden magecraft during my time there?"
Luvia stiffened, an effect felt by Lectra, obviously. "You have access to something like that?" was what she murmured and it seemed to be an answer for him.
"Never mind, I wouldn't worry about it too much. We both seem to be in a hurry." The man took one step out of view but held himself back abruptly. "If you can remember, the next time we talk you should slap me across the face. That might jar my memory into place, alright?" Without allowing for another word in, the boy left with obvious haste, leaving questions in his absence.
With a shuffle, Luvia tugged her friend up onto her shoulder for better grip, continuing forward to their hideout. "He didn't seem like himself, did he? It almost sounded like he was putting on a voice too."
Lectra couldn't be bothered to comb over the conversation. Her greatest wish at that moment was a nice bath and a warm bed. "Just get us somewhere safe."
… … …
… … …
Illya bit at the tip of her thumb, staring ardently at her knees. While it had only served to worry her more, she had been watching through Lancer's eyes for much of the entire day. She had only grown concerned now when she watched in real-time as Shirou took an attack from a servant directly. He managed to come out alright - alive at the least - but the charred skin on his back and pained expression on his face did little to calm her down.
"How are you doing, princess?" a voice asked, snapping her from Lancer's vision. Her father had moved beside her, bringing forth a cup of cheap pudding as an offering.
They were in the ruins of the Einzbern Castle, the place that would have been her home eventually had her father not rescued her. She knew that, but couldn't quite explain how she knew it. It was similar to how she could understand the process of summoning a servant and what to do during a Grail War. The knowledge was there, but its origin was mysterious.
Wrapping a hand around the pudding, Illya gently tore off the top to reveal the chocolatey substance within. Calmly, her father leaned over to deposit a plastic spoon in her cup. "I know this isn't the best place, but it's the safest. Unknown, far from the battlefield," he paused to consider more benefits.
"Away from Shirou," Illya added for him, grasping the spoon and collecting a scoop of pudding. She was seated in a stone nook which rested before a window. It was more than deep enough for her to sit comfortably and just wide enough for her legs to fit within while being bent partly, even with her short height.
"Shirou can handle himself," the man quickly pointed out, settling onto the edge of a queen-sized western bed a few steps away. After arriving, Missy and Kiritsugu had selected three rooms in close proximity to one another. They were all identical in layout, design and furnishing but Illya's was the cleanest, spared by pests and destruction. "I know you want to help, but this is the only way you'll be safe."
Illya was silent for a while as she carefully cleaned the pudding cup, trying to distance her mind from the battle she knew was still going on. "Did you stay here with Mommy during the last War?" she asked eventually.
Her father made an audible inhale. "We did, yes. It was the site of a banquet for the servants in fact, though that had likely been a major contributor to its current state."
Illya's voice went soft and she turned her head to peer out of the window into the dimly lit forest surrounding them. "Did she die here?"
"No," the man replied immediately, voice equally as cold and distant. "If you want to know, I can tell you how and where."
Illya shook her head and tucked both knees up to her chin. "I think it's better if I didn't know." Agreeing with silence, her father remained in the room for some time before he eventually stood and departed. "Tomorrow you can help Missy and I clear the central courtyard. Engel Note would prove quite useful in trimming the grass."
Nodding silently, Illya returned to looking toward her feet while her father quietly left the room. Connecting with Lancer again, Illya saw an entirely new sight, as expected. It felt wrong to eavesdrop through the eyes of another like this, but it was the best she could do to keep herself from running to Shirou's side. As much as he wanted to protect her, she wanted to protect him as well. If he got hurt, who else would be there to heal him?
Replacing the tip of her thumb between her teeth, Illya carefully examined the battlefield, worrying about Shirou for each moment that passed.
… … …
Clenching at her heart, the woman doubled over in pain. "You can't- you'll kill them all-" she gasped, extending another hand toward the servant standing in the doorway.
The servant turned to face his master, pulsing crimson sword illuminating the area in a demonic glow. "Precisely. That is the ultimate goal of every master and servant pair, is it not? I shouldn't be too long. Once I'm finished, we will only have two more servants and masters to defeat, wherever they might be hiding."
"You'll kill the masters-" the girl strained, resting her weight upon a nearby piece of wooden furniture.
"The easiest way to eliminate the servant, correct. There's no reason for you to worry, handling four servants is entirely within my ability." Tilting his neck to each side resulted in visceral cracking noises. "In fact, it should be quite easy."
The woman stood on shaking legs, finding her energy slowly. It had been a mistake trying to tell him no. To keep her from standing in his way, he had shifted his draw from himself back to her and her pitiable reserves couldn't maintain such a powerhouse. Something like that really should have been expected, considering she wasn't a real magus. "You can't, please," she pleaded one last time, hoping the inhuman servant would heel.
Resting one hand softly on his own chest, the man bowed his upper half deeply. "Place your trust in me, master. You can consider both servants and masters as good as dead, I will find victory for you in this War." The servant turned to leave but a sudden bright flash of red light sent him stumbling into place. Like he was halfway through freezing, the man made jarring, shaky motions to turn back toward his master. "A command seal," he murmured, shouldering the weapon in his hand. "An interesting decision, master."
"I won't let you- you can't kill my friend," she begged. A second flash of crimson pulsed through the room, her last hope given light. One wouldn't be enough to stop a servant like this, she had to use two, but even then-
The servant made a hollow noise. "A valiant attempt, but ultimately a pitiful failure." As if her binding had no effect, the servant carried on with his path outside, unabated in the slightest. Such an act left his master gaping, appalled at what had transpired. Clutching at her pained chest, the girl extended a hand toward the open door, hoping, praying that her servant would return.
She knew he wouldn't, but there was nothing else she could do. The command seal had been her last hope and even two had done absolutely nothing. The servant was a monster, and not even two command seals would act as an appropriate leash.
… … …
He awoke with a pained gasp, reeling for air but finding nothing but hot smoke. Standing upright from his position laid out upon the ground was a mistake, as seething pain coursed across his entire back. Hissing loudly, Shirou desperately tried to gather his bearings. Everything was on fire, the world around him was a hellscape of smoke, embers and wartorn craters. It was harrowing, but far from the worst thing he had witnessed.
"Shirou, it is good to see you back on your feet," a man murmured. "You're just in time to experience the calm before the storm."
Blinking, the boy groggily comprehended the servant's meaning. Like three points of a triangle, groups of servants and masters looked upon one another with varying emotions, not just hostility and apprehension. The pink servant, standing alone was still overjoyed and entirely unharmed. How someone without any detectable means of defence has managed to remain unblemished was absolutely baffling to Shirou.
There was a new servant on the field now, a man. A touch over six feet, and a touch under one-hundred-fifty pounds, he stuck out like a sore thumb. His hair, a uniform azure, was the most contributing factor to this irregularity. It was straight, short on the sides and long at the top and back, spiked outward from the top of his head with long trailing tails going down his back to make their appearance again at the base of his spine. Being honest, Shirou thought he had a rather homeless look about him. While his clothes weren't dirty or too distressed, they were incredibly airy, loose and thin. A translucent garment covered his abdomen from the pectorals to the hips, with a furry hooded shawl resting comfortably along his arms. A segment of heavier white fabric spanned his hips, keeping his rear and sides concealed while being belted tight at the waist with a makeshift length of braided fabric. He wore a type an extended skirt that draped down over his shoeless feet. Of all the pieces of his outfit, the skirt was the most well crafted, with golden ribbons creating a pleasant Celtic design upon the face.
In his hand sat an equally as peculiar staff, with a thin tapered bottom beneath a gaudy, brick-like head that held a small circular silver charm at the far end. Beneath the head was a segment of gnarled, braided wooden branches that connected to a golden grip. It was likely a safe bet to call him Caster if his choice of weaponry was any indication.
The man's face was full of pride and confidence and something else entirely. He was an admittedly handsome man, with a chiselled face that also held boyish qualities. There was a soft glint that caught Shirou's eye, directing his gaze to the man's ears. Hanging from each lobe were small silver earrings, earrings identical to Bazett's. It was safe to say the servant originated from them, so the hero she summoned was somewhere around two thousand years old but that didn't help in determining his identity in the slightest.
Delving into his parameters as a servant, Shirou was rather unimpressed. B rank mana and phantasm had credit, but an abysmal E rank luck and D rank endurance weighed heavily against him, though it was somewhat expected by his appearance. Shirou was surprised to find a Caster-looking servant with C rank strength and agility, though with Bazett as a master, some of them had a chance to be skewed.
"Well then, this has come down to quite the standoff, hasn't it?" the man joked, glancing between the three other servants.
"A standoff would imply that either of the two other parties have a chance at victory," Saber quickly retorted, standing shoulder-to-shoulder ahead of her master once again.
"I agree, neither of you have any chance at defeating me," the pink servant declared, gazing seductively toward Caster.
There was a softened tsk from the magical servant. "Overconfidence is a slow and relentless killer. That being said, you, the two knightly types," he directed, nodding his head toward them as he spoke. "I don't usually ask for help in fights, but the lass over there is someone I really can't stand. What if we worked together to get rid of her before continuing our own little thing?"
By the look of shock on Bazett's face, Shirou could tell that the question had been made without running it by her first. "An interesting query. Perhaps after hearing that, our other friend might wish to propose the same thing against you," Lancer pointed out, a pained smile on his face.
Caster tossed the staff around in his hand ardently. "Don't take this the wrong way but you might be fighting for her side regardless of who you choose first."
"Hey, don't ruin the fun!" came an annoyed shout. "If you do, I'll tell everyone your true name!"
Barking like a dog, Caster shot back: "Then I'll just tell them yours!"
The pink servant wrapped both arms around herself, face warming as blood rushed to her cheeks. Shirou absently tuned out the woman and her deranged thoughts, focusing on himself and the creation of a line to Saber. "How long was I unconscious?"
The knight's voice returned to him immediately while her physical form hardly moved an inch. "A few minutes at the most. Caster attacked while we were preoccupied and a battle erupted between us all. Lancer and I managed handily and the two separated as you see now. It was only because you created such a rapid defence that you are still alive."
Alive, but not entirely well. His back had been destroyed by the attack and while the pain was high, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. After all, every night for the past year he had been creating circuits with his nerves. The pain was bound to dull eventually. Closing his eyes to find Avalon, he discovered the sheath diligently working away to regenerate the demolished flesh, though it was struggling to repair such thorough destruction. Saber spoke aloud then, bringing his attention back to reality. "You attack our master then wish for an alliance. Quite an underhanded move, but nothing unexpected from the weakest servant class."
Still scowling over his row, the servant brought his staff across both shoulders and gripped it tight on both sides. "You'll have to thank my master for that. I would have attacked her," he gestured with a nod toward the pink servant. "But orders are orders."
Lancer twirled the projected weapon in his hands around to stick into the ground, laying his hands upon the pommel to use it as a rest. "Before talk of working together, it would be best to understand who we were working with. As this is a game rooted in deception, a full formal greeting might be a bit much. However, nothing is stopping us from revealing our class names."
A heavy silence descended on the servants. "Don't everybody jump at once. If you require motivation, allow me to make the first step." Bumping a closed fist against his chest with a mighty clank, Lancer identified himself as such.
It was enough to get the other servants speaking. The man revealed himself to be the suspected Caster while the woman declared her role as Rider.
Saber identified herself last, moderately shocking the other two. "Two servants working together? That's so unfair, isn't that against the rules?" Rider complained, pouting heavily.
Caster shut his eyes softly, appearing rather complacent regardless of the bad news. "I thought you two were nothing more than an oddity - a servant divided in two. Looks like my guess was a little off."
"There's nothing against the rules with forming an alliance, or for a master to lead two separate servants for that matter," Saber defended righteously, getting a nod from her knight.
Keeping an eye on both servants, Shirou observed Rider with her head down moving her lips in a hushed tone. Immediately, Saber prepared her weapon and Lancer withdrew his own from the ground. "Rider is using magecraft. I am unable to discern whether it is her noble phantasm."
Sparing a glance at Caster to confirm if he noticed the same thing, Shirou was greeted by the sight of a particularly fearful man. "Depending on what that is..." he murmured, sharpening his crimson eyes heavily. The staff was removed from his shoulders and the bottom grounded at his front.
Rider finished speaking and looked up immediately with an unnatural forced smile. It was unlike her previous expression and carried with it something akin to worry. With an equally as forced laugh, the woman glanced between the two rival parties. "Unfortunately, your adorable queen must make a quick departure. As much as it would please me to collar my pet and make him mine, I would rather escape with my life to try again sometime." Bouncing on her feet toward Caster, the temptress offered a blown kiss before fading away into what looked like ice particles.
Caster growled like a wild dog but sent a cautious glance toward the two knights. "You know, I was a warrior once too." Nodding to himself as if he were met with disbelief, the man carried on. "It's why I can see that the only thing stopping you two from taking me directly was her, in case she decided to take us all out while we were exhausted. If that's your end goal I won't stop you, but I sure as hell won't go down without a fight," the servant menaced, sneering animalistically while pointing his staff in their direction. With the top of the staff's head leveled in their direction, Shirou felt a palpable amount of energy striking him indirectly. Unlike a normal spell, which impacted his senses in a much more visceral way, the energy from Caster's staff seemed to stir from around him in every direction, as if the air and earth were responding to his call.
Saber made a soft noise of derision. "A keen tactical observation for a sorce-" She hesitated, visibly twitching as if someone had snuck up behind and scared her. The abrupt end to her speech was jarring for two people in particular. Both Shirou and Lancer gave the king a strange look while she hesitantly panned about her surroundings. "Something's wrong," she mumbled, eyes alight with worry. "I've felt this before, though it was never quite as strong."
Watching his king with curiosity, Lancer seemed far less confident than he had previously. "Relying on your gut instinct has gotten us out of many trials in the past, I have no reason to doubt such a thing now."
Keeping her blade prepared for an assault from Caster, the knight peered around herself. "Whatever it is, we must decide now whether to run or stand and fight. I leave the decision up to you, master."
From behind, Shirou glanced between Caster and his own servant before finally staring at Bazett. The two exchanged words through their eyes and decided that a battle wasn't worth either of their time yet. "Caster, withdraw," the woman ordered, keeping her eyes glued to his.
"Saber, Lancer, let's get out of here," Shirou mimicked, nodding his head partly to the enforcer. This was merely the first night of the War. They were under no obligation to kill one another...yet.
All three servants seemed taken aback by the snap decision and one was particularly reluctant. Sighing heavily, the sorcerer dipped his head. "Just when I get the chance to really show my stuff against a powerful opponent, my master gets cold feet. Hopefully, the next time we meet, we can really enjoy ourselves - preferably without Rider of course."
Spinning the staff in his hand once more, the base met the ground and a sudden gale swept the two straight off their feet, propelling them like plastic bags out of sight with surprising control.
Alone, Saber turned to face her master directly. "Shirou, we must leave immediately. I will explain later when we are safe." Without waiting for him to make a decision, the king and her retainer made a hasty retreat toward their departed mounts.
Shirou was left to follow, keeping up while an odd sensation struck him. He felt like a third wheel, like some tag-along follower rather than an actual combatant in the War. Perhaps it was merely the surprise attack that had jarred him, but he felt entirely unnecessary and he didn't like it one bit.
Blinking, he autonomously clambered onto Saber's death machine, mind sending him warnings but for a new reason entirely. Beyond the feeling of uselessness, he subconsciously registered that they were being watched. Typically when he was met with such a feeling, his mind guided him to the perpetrator. This time, it was vague, like his mind determined that the watchful eyes were from every direction simultaneously.
In the midst of his confusion, the engine of the motorbike roared to life and Saber wasted little time in leaving the area.
... ... ...
"Interesting," a rasping voice claimed. "Very interesting. Five servants total, with two bonded to a single master."
"A peculiar thing," another eerily similar voice resounded from almost the same area.
"They seem disconnected, foreign. Two servants with their own masters working together under one," yet another chimed in.
"An agreeable conclusion."
"Eliminating the masters should be no trouble. They seem uncoordinated and undefended. Master of two was almost eliminated by another servant already."
"They weren't even trying to kill him either." There was a hollow laughing sound that rattled off the walls and echoed across the landscape. It was something heard in nightmares deep within the darkness, a haunting noise that settled within the ear and refused to leave.
The first voice spoke again, similarities with the other voices making differentiation nearly impossible. "Had we been able to join, our competition would have been quite reduced."
"Master wishes for us to remain hidden, so we abide," a voice provided.
"We agree, keeping watch from a distance."
"Can they support us all at our fullest?"
"Absolutely, possibly, unlikely," another voice rattled off inconsistent predictions.
"Then we act individually unless the situation deems additional support."
The laughter returned, hollow, inky and chilling. Several sets of burning blue eyes beamed out from their shadowed spot, peering down at the former battlefield as a lone servant, the aforementioned fifth, stepped into view.
A gnarled, sickly-looking digit protruded from the darkness, nearly of the same shade as the night itself. "There, as the doctor to the graveyard, the sinner as he enters hell."
"A straggler, a lone sheep among a band of wolves." More hollow laughter responded through the buildings, whispering nightmares to the sleeping within. "Are we the butchers or the wolves themselves?"
"Perhaps we should see. Master wished for no involvement with the other masters for now. One shall go, one of us who is worthy."
A shape shifted from the darkness, moving partly into the moonglow. "A knight to the dragon, I shall claim the hoard." There was a soft grunt as the being leapt from their perch, streaming across rooftops to their objective with righteous purpose.
"With weakness acknowledged, confidence is foolish," a voice deeper within intoned.
"To be confident with cluelessness is even greater foolishness," another supplied, garnering another round of sickly laughter.
"We shall see who has underestimated whom soon."
From within the darkness, flaming blue orbs examined everything through angry slits. The watchers, the planners, the insane, the wise. They had many names, but only one would fit them all. One by one, the orbs disappeared, fading into the darkness or blinking out of existence entirely.
Had they even existed in the first place?
… … …
The doors opened, and a servant stepped into the room. "I apologize master," they spoke immediately, but the sorrow ended at their voice. "I was unable to take out any of the other masters, I was too slow."
The woman let out a shaky sigh, sucking in a sharp breath as she leveled a glare at the servant. "I'm glad you were so slow. If you had gotten there in time, you would have-"
"Eliminated all enemy masters and servants, of course." Tilting his head to one side, the servant shouldered the ominous crimson blade. "Master, I am beginning to wonder if you desire victory or even the Grail at all."
"Of course I do," the woman shot back defensively, clapping both hands at her front. "But if you killed every master, I wouldn't be able to make my wish."
The servant was silent for a brief moment before they moved further into the room. "I see, so your wish is dependant on the livelihood of a particular master. If that is the case, I will have to adjust my tactics so that I do not harm them directly."
Hope gleaned in the master's eyes. "So you won't kill that one master if I tell you?"
"Possibly," the servant claimed, doing nothing to satisfy their master. "You interrupted my briefing, master. While I was too late to attack any masters, a servant approached as I was leaving and challenged me to a duel of sorts."
"Isn't that an important detail to miss?"
"The servant died within seconds. They were a pitiful existence which underestimated my strength and paid for their mistake."
The woman blinked, surprise holding back her voice as she digested the information. "But I-"
Her servant carried on with his own thoughts, seating himself to take a minor rest. "Five more servants to go. As I have said: Even combined, the might of all servants summoned is unlikely to match my ability, though we shall see how correct my estimation is in time." There wasn't so much of a hint of boasting or gloating glee in the man's voice. He was entirely confident with his ability and after defeating a servant, he could back it up.
The woman felt entirely dissociated from her own body, a vacant observer viewing a life that wasn't her own. "Promise me you won't kill one master." Twisting his head to look at her straight on, the servant silently asked who she was referring to.
Swallowing thickly, the woman stood rigid. "Promise me you won't kill Saber's master."
… … …
… … …
Hissing, Shirou picked the remnants of his formerly pristine suit from his back. The semi-synthetic fibres had bonded to his scorched flesh and Avalon's healing merely exacerbated the problem. The situation reminded him of a similar one he went through during the Magus Tournament. It was different this time though - rather than removing it from charred flesh, he had to cut out the fabric from fully healed portions. It was arduous and agonizing but a necessary evil to prevent whatever infection would plague him from having clothing inside his skin.
Dematerializing the bloodied instrument in his hand, Shirou hesitated to look down at the disturbing sight within the sink. Avalon was a blessing, but for things like this it was a painful curse. If only he could toggle the regenerative effect when he desired, but that was asking too much from a relic that provided literal immortality.
Sighing, Shirou recalled the day's events. So much had happened that it was difficult to process all at once. Rin was unapproachable as a potential partner, as was Luvia - who he suspected to be a master as well. Sakura was a possibility, but he had gotten distracted and was unable to even ask, let alone see if she was a master. As the only Matou remaining, she almost had to be, but at this point who really knew?
He was fighting alone, though he was far from being in the worst position possible. With two servants under his command, his odds were already greater than normal. Couple their desire for honour and chivalry with his own desire to preserve his friends and family and they collectively made a solid team with a mutual goal.
Speaking of the supposed team, Saber was acting incredibly strange in the brief moments before they left the Edelfelt battleground. As she claimed back then, the king explained her reasoning for such a hasty departure after returning to the house. According to her, it was nothing more than an intense "gut feeling" that something terrible was on the way, and every warning sign she had as a knight told her to leave. Lancer was quick to chalk it up to her being scared, a comment she despised and quickly made that fact clear.
As much as she tried defending herself, Shirou believed Lancer's explanation. If only guessing by body language and tone of voice, she had seemed rather frightened back then. But what sort of servant or force would be enough to scare a king that seemed so resolute?
Turning his head over his shoulder and examining his back in the mirror, he could almost see Avalon slowly knitting the flesh together bit by bit. It was still stinging from the attack but appeared fully healed. It was a known aftereffect of Avalon pertaining to burns specifically - the outer layer could appear pristine but the inner layers would still be burnt.
A gun fired in Shirou's mind and blue lines appeared across his entire back. The design hadn't advanced all that much since the last time he had looked until he realized its efforts were being directed to his front. The ends that had terminated on his pectorals separated as if they were buds blooming from a branch. So he was still developing, though it wasn't nearly as drastic as those initial stages.
Sighing, the boy picked the pieces of skin bonded to fabric from the sink, throwing them in a trash bin before washing the blood from within. He would need to take that out later before it started to stink, but he could handle that the next morning. What he really wanted was some solid rest to prepare himself for another day. Hopefully, it wouldn't be as bad as the first.
Running a hand through his short silver hair, Shirou collected the shirt from the set of spare clothes he had brought with him. The first day of the War had already been eventful, to say the least. There were still three servants that had yet to make an appearance, but they were likely to reveal themselves within the next few days.
Throwing on his shirt, Shirou released a controlled breath and stepped out of the bathroom. All he was concerned about was getting a good night's rest, however difficult that would be for him.
Just realized that I haven't been saying my little suggestion at the end of each chapter like I normally do!
Maybe that's why nobody is making any reviews, making me feel abandoned?
Remember to follow, favourite and leave a review! Also, give some thanks to my wonderful beta who is still going strong - Talndir!
