How many times can a man apologize before it becomes vacant? I guess I'll find out. Someone count how many times the AN's have started with me making excused for being late and then add this one to that number as well.
Work sucks, as it usually does. 10-12 hour days with 2 hours driving on either side. Sleeping in a hotel away from home because we have to be big heroes or something. At the very least, the money is good, though I have no time to do anything besides eat, get a few words on a chapter and maintain a modicum of personal hygiene.
Excuses, excuses, I know. Anyhow, here's another chapter. I hope you enjoy :)
With a forceful shove of the shoulder, the stuck door finally swung open. Shirou stumbled inside with the leftover momentum, stirring up dust from the floor.
The interior of the building was far more distressed than the outside. Cobwebs, thick dust and a distinct stale, mouldy stench were all features gifted by unuse. It was far from a five-star resort, but under the stains of time was a spacious, well-furnished home. Finishing his quick check of the dim interior, he turned back to the door and called out. "I got it and I'm not dead!"
After a few seconds, Illya shouted from outside, "How do we know you're really alive, though. It could be an impersonator trying to coax us in."
Pursing his lips, Shirou tried something simple. "Your favourite colour is purple and you like sleeping on the left side of the futon. That way you can sleep in later because the sun doesn't hit your face for another hour."
Through the door, he heard a soft "good enough" and a figure stepped through shortly after. Examining her surroundings, Illya grimaced. "It's a lot worse than I expected."
Rin followed through as well, but instead remained silent and did a deeper investigation of the faded paintings on the wall. Bazett was the last to enter and after examining the remains of the front door, the Irish woman whistled in awe. "Pretty big place, helluva lot bigger than mine anyway."
"Kiritsugu sure let it go though," Rin mumbled prior to blowing on the painting before her to rid it of dust. The particular one showcased a large, happy-looking family of seven. On appearance alone, Shirou would say they were upper-middle-class, based on a thin father-figure working a presumably white-collar job. It was definitely not Kiritsugu. "Or maybe the last owners haven't been around in a while," Rin hypothesized.
Peering around, Bazett stood within the middle of the room and planted her fists upon her hips. "If you spent a couple days cleaning, this would be a pretty bang-up place to live. Smaller than your home in Fuyuki but more than enough for you three if you needed it."
Giving the Enforcer an odd look, Shirou wiped some dust off the walls with a finger. "You're a lot more excited about it than I am." Shirou was no novice when it came to cleaning and his mastery in the craft meant he could see the space beyond the dust and neglect for its true form. Even so, he wasn't all that impressed. "Did you need a place to live?"
The woman's eyes glimmered as if she was a child receiving a Christmas present. Just as quickly as the glint appeared, she wished it away. "This is your house, I couldn't take it from you. You aren't serious, are you?"
The boy shrugged and panned the room again. A staircase led upwards from an entrance foyer to a second floor that likely contained bedrooms. Immediately left of the front door was a doorless passage into a living room but the right only held pictures, a coat rack and dingy umbrellas. It was all rather quaint but he didn't exactly need a home to live in while he had a dorm. "Would you clean it up and take care of it?"
"Of course," she answered quickly. "I'll treat it like my own and make sure it's maintained for when you need it."
"Then sure," he agreed. "After you and I finish cleaning you can live here as long as you want until I say otherwise." Approaching a wall, the boy laid one hand upon its surface and traced the building in its entirety. Knowing Kiritsugu, a safehouse of his would hold a secret compartment somewhere. Just as he expected, a bounded field made by his father guarded and concealed a hole beneath false floorboards in the living room.
Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, hesitation formed in her voice. "This isn't going to come out of my pay, is it?"
Turning to face her, he blinked and asked, "Should it?" only to walk past her into the living room as she struggled to respond.
The bounded field lay in a corner of the room in an entirely inconspicuous location. There was no rug to try and conceal it, nor were there any sort of furniture overtop to try and block it. Looking at the spot with his bare eyes, the boy couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.
Clueing into how odd it was for him to be staring at a corner, Rin stepped beside him and asked, "Is something there?"
The boy nodded. "My father has a bounded field in that spot." He knelt down and placed a hand on top to make it obvious.
Rin was bemused. "I couldn't sense that at all," she admitted.
"Instead of making them hard to break or to attack when disturbed, Kiritsugu focused all his efforts on making them invisible. I could only find them after he taught me the technique and what I needed to look for." Running his fingers along the ground, Shirou activated his circuits to begin dismantling the field.
Rin knelt beside him, interested in watching him work. "So you can make bounded fields like this?"
The boy shook his head and paused before dismantling the field. Before he went that far, he needed to make sure he could even access whatever lay below. "You and Kiritsugu taught me how to make fields but I can't make them on a level like this."
Rin snorted. "That was so long ago now. I still remember that you could only make defensive fields."
He struggled for a moment with trying to find a way to access the hole. There were no hinges and the panels weren't cut in any way to make lifting them out a possibility. "Not much has changed," he eventually admitted.
"It probably has to do with your sword origin and element. The mana for the field shares the same image it has in your body. Thin, impermeable and stiff." Illya strode into the living room and ran her finger along the top of a chair, noting and grimacing at the amount of dust she had just collected. "Or that's my guess, anyway."
From all his investigation, Shirou couldn't figure out a way to access the hole. Inhaling deeply, he came to one single conclusion. "This was never meant to be opened, at least not quickly."
"What do you mean?"
Shirou stood upright and offered Rin an assisting hand as well. "The old man always planned ahead and he accounted for every foreseeable scenario. My guess is that this is an emergency backup. Maybe it's a pile of cash or weapons but it's not meant to be used."
"Cash sounds nice," Bazett chimed in.
"So we should leave it for a situation like that?" Rin asked, ignoring Bazett entirely.
Shirou thought it over, then eventually nodded. "I think that's best. If any of us get into trouble, we all know where it is at least." Staring at the spot for a moment, he couldn't help but wonder what exactly was under there. Unfortunately, as good as his tracing was, advanced bounded fields obscured contents even from him.
Abruptly, he turned, looked at each of the three girls and crossed both arms over his chest. "Who's ready to clean?"
Instead of one of the girls, the ringtone from his phone answered him instead. Retrieving it from his pants pocket, he excused himself hurriedly.
Stepping outside back into the sunlight, he flipped open the device and offered a simple "Hello."
The female voice on the other line was clipped and held subtle hostility. "You wanted to speak with me?"
Shirou nodded slightly to himself. "I've got an important job, high risk, high reward." Would this one fall through like the last or had he found someone desperate enough for the money?
… … …
… … …
Tugging at his lapels, Shirou slipped on the pair of sunglasses. It was the first day of class for the girls, which meant it was his first day of "work." Twisting, he watched the two girls as they organized what they would need for the day. The one thing his new suit lacked was a fitting pair of gloves. He supplemented a copy of Bazett's leather gloves in their place but it was almost an injustice for such a nice suit.
His previous first day had seen him as a lackey for Luvia. He hadn't the luxury of freedom then, though he hadn't exactly needed it either.
"...we'll be together most of the day so if you happen to have forgotten something you can just borrow it from me." Shifting from Illya, Rin slung a book bag over her shoulder, made one final check of its contents and gave Shirou a nod.
Ironically, not much had changed. He was still a lackey and attendant, just to different people. The added benefit was that he didn't have any school work to worry about.
Setting off for the day, Shirou simply trailed behind the girls as they moved from class to class. Once there, he either sat in the class if there was room or meandered about the halls if there was no space. On rare occasions, he elected to stand outside the door and think.
To say it was boring was an incredible understatement and he hadn't realized how painful being a bodyguard would be. At the very least, the idleness gave him plenty of time to converse with strangers that caught his eye or go through his mental armoury.
Regarding the latter, there were still a plethora of weapons that he had to examine in person, but making a list of priority ones to go over first increased his chances of finding something interesting. If he wanted to make a dent, he would need to start spending his evenings on it.
As for the former, speaking with the other magi wandering through halls gave him glimpses into the current events transpiring in the magical world. It wasn't often people stopped for a full-blown conversation. In fact, most people he tried to speak with outright ignored him and moved faster. Those who did grant him the courtesy to talk always seemed on edge as of he was about to murder them.
When he wasn't doing either of those things, the rest of his time he continued training his basic tracing. Counting the number of floor tiles, window panes, people in each classroom and even the moisture content of the soil in plant pots positioned across the entire campus. With eyes closed, he could see the entire Clock Tower before him better than he could with them open. When he stretched his mind too far, a familiar pain bloomed in his skull. Still, he pressed on until the pain was so great it began blurring the edges of his tracing, began degrading his concentration. He hoped that pushing himself repeatedly would eventually train his mind to handle the strain better, like a muscle. If that were possible, there was a chance he could trace and reproduce weaponry he otherwise couldn't.
Something he discovered rapidly, however, was that he couldn't visually trace anything with his sunglasses on. Rin had called them mystic eye killers, but he didn't have any. Obviously, they were capable of blocking normal eye-based magecraft too. It made sense, considering mystic eyes were nothing more than localized circuits casting their own magecraft. Either way, he would have to choose between discarding them or using the slower touch-based tracing if a need arose.
All of the thinking and training meant lunchtime came a little faster. The trio mobilized to the main commons where Shirou directed them to an empty table he had found during the walk there. Since he had the foresight to prepare lunches for them in advance, they didn't need to buy anything from the stores. Sitting down, they weren't even able to open their meals before the table was assailed by a crowd of noisy people.
Before they could suffocate the table with proximity, Shirou stood upright and thankfully appeared intimidating enough to maintain some breathing room.
Twisting about to keep eyes on everyone, he asked, "Is this supposed to be the welcoming committee?" With so many people and so many voices, it was difficult to decipher intention. Were they about to conduct a hazing or did they want an autograph? Receiving far too many responses at once to understand a thing, Shirou roughly grabbed the shoulder of the nearest man and pulled him closer. A smaller man with red hair and glasses, his formerly enthusiastic face split into terror. "What's going on here?"
Sheepishly, the man lifted both hands in surrender. "We all just wanted to see what all the buzz was about!"
Lowering his voice to keep up some light intimidation, Shirou asked, "What buzz?"
His tactic worked and the man shrank beneath his gaze. "W-well you're the Son of the Magus Killer, right?"
"What about it?"
It was obvious the magus in his grasp wanted to escape by any means necessary, even if it meant becoming a vapour. "You're already notorious enough, let alone with an Einzbern homunculus beside you!"
Shirou's confusion only deepened. "What does she have to do with anything?"
This time the response came from another man. "The Einzbern family hasn't been seen by anyone within the Clock Tower for over a thousand years." Shirou released the magus in his grasp to stare at the new one who approached. Sickeningly pale with matching white, parted, chin-length hair that rained down the sides of his head. He was a tall man just shy of six foot one in his early thirties. The most notable feature about him was his eyes. Sharp, seemingly eternally strained with a piercing azure shade. Turning to face Illya, the man threw out his arms. "Yet now, after all that time, we have the last Einzbern homunculus in our very school." Glancing toward Shirou, he dipped his head. "Don't get me wrong, the Son of the Magus Killer is unique, but nothing compared to her."
Shirou could see the switch in Illya's eyes before she even spoke. She was no more, replaced by a certified Einzbern and carrying with her all the authority the name provided. She stood upright and glowered in annoyance at the man. "What do you mean the last homunculus?"
He looked confused. "How is it possible the current, or rather only head of the family doesn't know?"
"Spit it out!" she ordered.
The man stood fast, hardly minding that he was shouted at. Instead, he only grew more intrigued. "It wasn't too long ago now that the Einzberns went dark. From the rumours I hear, their suppliers that typically received orders weekly haven't heard so much as a peep."
Illya was neither angered nor saddened. Instead, she matched the man's curiosity with her own. "That means nothing, the Einzberns have isolated before."
"They have," he agreed. "But one brave soul actually tried making the journey through the forest to the castle and succeeded. Didn't meet a single person either."
Shirou felt a tad bit lost, as the comment sparked recognition from Illya and Rin but not him. "Did they go inside?"
The man shook his head slightly. "Not that I'm aware of."
Rin took over with a question of her own. "But if they didn't enter, how can they be certain?"
He nodded in Illya's direction. "She knows as well as I do that the Einzbern bounded field is impossible to breach. It'd take ten expert magi to break through and by the time they did the entire castle would be a-buzz." He shrugged and a sly smile spread across his face. "So the only explanation is that they've all died."
It was hard to remember, but Shirou thought he could recall Kiritsugu mentioning that Illya was the Einzbern's last-ditch effort to recover their magic. That the head of the family would give up if they lost her. Had the wave of homunculi that kidnapped Illya been their final effort?
Illya crossed both arms over her chest. "It makes no difference to me. In fact, it's probably better if they are dead. I won't have to watch my back as closely."
The man obviously hadn't been expecting the answer, but his smile grew wider. "So there's more to you than I thought, how interesting." Suddenly, the man checked his watch and likely noticed he was late. Shifting to leave, he threw up a hand and began walking off. "You might see more of me on the sidelines, do not disappoint!"
Swallowed by the crowd, Shirou resumed trying to keep distance. It seemed as if the strange man's appearance had only riled the crowd more, or given them the confidence to move closer. Whatever the case, they were about to be swarmed.
Channelling mana to his gloves, Shirou clapped both hands together to produce a thunderous slap that echoed through the room. It was enough to silence the chatter and force some back. All eyes were on him, but it was obvious such a minor thing wouldn't drive everyone off. Intimidation might work on a few, but it also had a chance of backfiring horribly. Drawing a weapon or using his magecraft also weren't options unless he wanted to be punished by the Tower or found out that he was once Blade on the first day.
There was fear in the unknown. He could combine mystery and intimidation. The best option was the simplest; embracing the part of himself he'd rather leave buried. "If everybody doesn't clear out and leave us alone I'll personally show you how my old man gained his title."
Something open-ended and vague, enough to worry those with less resolve. Thankfully, his strategy seemed to work as the majority of the crowd dispersed to either watch from a distance or outright leave.
There were gaps in the crowd at least, space which allowed a smaller figure to force their way through. Popping out, Shirou easily recognized Lectra. "Well then," she huffed while adjusting her hoody. "I guess it will be hard to lose you, just gotta look in the centre of the largest crowd." Offering a greeting nod to the rest of the group, she peered up to Shirou and offered a smile. "So how's your first day been so far?"
Stunned into silence, he couldn't formulate a response. After walking through a crowd of people, that was the first thing she asked? It seemed to shock the other members of the crowd, as the voices quieted down. "It's been fine up until all these people swarmed us," Illya huffed.
Rin nodded. "It seems that hiring a bodyguard was the right decision. Though his own notoriety isn't helping."
Lectra hummed, looked around at the people surrounding the table then nodded diligently as if first noticing the gathering. "Good thing I have a solution. I came here to tell you guys anyway but the El-Melloi club room is really empty, especially at lunchtime. If you wanted to grab your lunch you can eat there without this audience."
Finding no objections, the group collectively decided it was the best idea and followed Lectra through the crowd of curious magi through the halls of the Clock Tower. To Shirou, it was a familiar journey to a familiar place.
Along the way, he grabbed Lectra's attention to ask a gnawing question on his mind. "Where do you get all your energy from?"
Lectra gave a confused glance. "What do you mean? I've always been this way."
"I know that, that wasn't what I meant." Shirou struggled with finding the right wording for a moment before deciding to be direct. "How is it you can seem so happy and friendly with me after all that's happened, after all I've done?"
Continuing onwards, Lectra was silent for some time until she let out a deep sigh. "It's complex, I guess, but we're pretty similar don't you think?"
"What do you mean?"
A slight pause to form her words properly. "Well, when we - Luvia and I - went to Fuyuki we both already had expectations that we weren't coming back. The plans we had for after were only if we survived taking on the Magus Killer. I know expecting death and having it happen are two different things but it did help a little." Taking a breath, she huffed once. "The saying goes that being a magus is to walk hand in hand with death. I think it's just been ingrained in everyone at this point."
Her words had been accurate when compared so well. Like her, he had gone through something similar with Kiritsugu. He'd always expected him to die but watching it happen had been different. She hadn't been present, but was she referring to that? "But-"
"It's not just that of course. Luvia and I were friends but we weren't exactly joined at the hip." The girl shrugged. "I only went with her because we made an arrangement that she would help me look for my dad afterwards." Spinning on one heel the girl turned around and walked backwards. "You're like me like I said." Smiling softly, she nodded as if expecting him to try disagreeing. "You're an open book and I'm like a," she paused, seeking for a word. "Librarian, I guess. We both think it's better to make peace and move on with our own lives like those that left us would have wanted." He couldn't quite find the words to respond, but his silence was enough of an answer for the both of them. Twisting back forward, the girl clasped her hands behind her back. "Isn't it better for everyone to move past the grief, be happy and make everyone around you feel nice?"
The rest of the journey was spent reflecting on Lectra's words. He hadn't expected such poignant wisdom, but she was older than him by a decent margin so it made sense. Was he that easy to read or was Lectra simply unnaturally good at it like Illya? Either way, she had hit the nail on the head in all ways. After the War, the only thing keeping him together was Illya and the thought of what Sakura and Kiritsugu would have wanted. Wallowing in his own despair and grief was definitely not in their wishes, it was as simple as that. Still, he couldn't wash away his sins entirely and his dreams replayed Sakura's final moments every now and then as a stark reminder.
Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted Rin and Illya deep in a conversation filled with hand gestures. "To be a magus is to walk hand in hand with death," he repeated under his breath just before Rin caught his eye and offered a short smile.
He couldn't help wondering if she was harbouring ill will against him, even with a smile on her face. She had taken the events hard and many threats of being unable to forgive him had been made the first couple of days. After thoroughly explaining his options, the possible outcomes and the risks repeatedly though, she came to a similar conclusion as he had.
He wasn't innocent and he didn't seek forgiveness, but that was fine. He could bear the weight so long as he remained confident it was the best overall decision.
Leaving the thoughts behind and simply walking, they reached the El-Melloi club room in short order. Opening the door, Shirou couldn't help but feel some nostalgia. Furniture had been moved, the room reorganized, but its presence was much the same. Even the people inside, Svin, Flat and Gray, were welcoming to his eyes.
Lectra entered first. "I brought friends, I hope that's not a problem!"
Gray, after meeting Shirou's gaze, turned her head and tugged at the edges of her hood. "Two of them are already Sir's students anyway," she commented offhandedly.
Lectra turned on a dime stricken with incredulity. "They are?"
The conversation continued, but Shirou couldn't shake an odd sensation. He felt watched. Watched like prey before the eyes of a lunging predator. His senses were telling him to be on guard but he had no clue who would have been directing such malice toward him.
Until his senses directed him to Svin.
The man was blatantly staring straight through Shirou, with an expression of abject hostility. Bristling beneath the sight, Shirou could only wonder why for a moment before his arm was tugged upon.
Looking to the source, he found Illya staring up at him. "You must have been pretty deep in thought."
"Yeah," he chuckled softly. "Just thinking about how I could get rid of a crowd like that if it happens again." He'd been able to speak convincingly but had no idea if his face would betray him.
By expression, Illya was still suspicious but seemed to believe him regardless. "Well then I'll ask again on Lectra's behalf. Would you like some tea?"
Relaxing partially, Shirou accepted the offer and after an exchange of names and greetings, sat down for lunch. The positioning and seating arrangements settled him on one end of a large couch with Gray and Lectra across from Rin and Illya. Svin had moved to take up a leaning position against the wall and while he didn't speak, Shirou could understand his unspoken words.
"I'm pissed off with you."
Trying to drown out what his mind continued flagging, Shirou begrudgingly accepted that he would need to have a conversation over what the aggression was about in the near future.
Considering the possible explanations, his mind fogged over the chatter going on around him. What little bits he did catch were typical introductory small talk centred around Rin and Illya. Occasionally, his name came up or eyes landed on him but Illya answered on his behalf, likely aware that he was deep in his own mind.
It wasn't until Lectra nudged his shoulder that he came out of his daze and returned to the present. "Are you good in there?"
Blinking a few times, he snapped back into his own body jarringly. "Yeah I'm fine," he assured. "Just lost in thought."
Suddenly she appeared wide-eyed and fearful. "Oh no, you're not thinking again, are you? God save us if you are." Just as quickly, the fear dissolved into a contagious, chuckling smile. "Since I have your attention, Thinker, I was wondering if you wanted to have a little training session."
Confused, Shirou furrowed his brow. "What sort of training?"
"Like, for fighting?"
It all made sense to him then. "A sparring match then," he clarified to which Lectra nodded excitedly.
"We never encountered one another in the War and I've gotten much stronger since you fought with me in the Tournament." As if hearing her own words, the girl illuminated as she mentioned the Mage's Tournament. "That's right, the Tournament! Are you going to join this year?"
He knew Lectra was eccentric but today she was on another level. Had someone put crushed caffeine pills into her tea? Subconsciously leaning away, he scratched a spontaneous itch on the back of his neck. "I don't know, doesn't seem like it'd be the smartest decision."
Lectra tilted her head. "Are you talking about Blade? Why would that matter? Magi fake their deaths a lot to avoid attention." Whether she had forgotten or simply spoken without thinking wasn't clear. However, she seemed to remind herself how his faked death had transpired. "Well, I guess they don't typically do it like you but still."
He was already getting enough attention from being Kiritsugu's son, he didn't need anything extra from being Blade, formerly deceased winner of the Mage's Tournament, able to recreate mystic codes. "Just to be on the safe side I'm going to try and distance myself from my former identity."
Taking on the expression of a kicked puppy, Lectra deflated and sank at the shoulder. "So no sparring then?"
Why was she so interested in fighting him? Was it to test herself or was she merely entertained with combat? She had signed up for the Mage's Tournament of her own will with no combat experience at all. Maybe she just enjoyed fighting. "If you want to so badly, we can give it a try one day in one of the training rooms." Even if he didn't plan on following through, the promise was enough to satiate her for the moment.
Despite his own thoughts, his words were like a Christmas gift to a child for Lectra. Face illuminating, she couldn't contain her excitement. Before either could talk, the door to Waver's office opened and the man himself stepped forth. Staring at Shirou directly, he sharpened his eyes into a vicious glare. "What is this I hear about sparring between my students?"
Both Lectra and Shirou stiffened. "Is that not allowed?" The girl asked genuinely.
Holding his narrowed eyes for a moment longer, his composure and face softened. "It's allowed, though if you plan on fighting one of my other students and booking a training room, why not see if any of the others wish to have a round? In fact, there's likely a room open tonight."
Shirou baulked. "I don't know about this, is it really necessary?"
The man nodded. "I believe so. It's been some time since you've last taken on my students. Perhaps they've improved since then. If you're interested, I can book a training hall after your classes. It would be a private affair with only the occupants of this room."
All eyes landed on Shirou, waiting for an answer. Considering that he was who everyone seemed interested in, it made sense.
Taking a deep breath, the boy closed his eyes and decided to think about it.
… … …
How had he been coerced into this?
It was the question that wouldn't leave his mind as he begrudgingly stood at one end of a circular arena.
Sequestered in a private training hall, the entire El-Melloi classroom along with Rin stood against one wall behind a dense bounded field. It was a spacious chamber beneath the Clock Tower on the scale of a gymnasium. The walls were bare concrete and large pillars supported the similarly stark ceiling. Despite the utilitarian nature of the space, the floor was rather fancy for something expected to be destroyed. High gloss, tacky gym floor finish protected two different sets of ceramic tiles that formed concentric rings to define the arena's bounds. The tiles themselves were elegantly designed with their own piece of a larger work of art.
Across the room stood Lectra in mid-stretch. She had elected to change out of her typical attire to put on a bodysuit from the Mage's Tournament, likely the same one she'd worn back then. Shirou on the other hand hadn't changed anything, he wasn't even bothering to stretch. Though, just in case, he had packed away his tailored suit into its watch form.
From what he could recall, Lectra wasn't all that worrisome of a foe. She had the potential to overwhelm with numbers, but he had a practically limitless number of blades to counter. None of her creations could really go head-to-head with him and it was only a matter of making her forfeit.
Still, going all out at the very start wouldn't be entertaining for either of them. Not only would that not teach Lectra anything, but he'd also be considered a jerk, plain and simple. Regardless, he wasn't exactly worried about his chances. "Are you ready?"
Despite intending to ask that himself, it had been Lectra to ask him. "Whenever you are."
Lectra threw out both arms toward the ground and thick black fluid poured from her fingertips onto the ground, fanning out far faster than Shirou had expected. In the time it took him to generate the form of his favoured blades within his mind, Lectra was already standing at the centre of a lake of roiling ether.
It was different, far different than before. The boy abruptly realized he couldn't rely on his expectations, but thankfully the fight hadn't gone far enough for the lapse in judgement to affect much. Clenching the handles of the forming emerald blades, a number of projectiles queued in his mind. Ahead of him, a greater number of shapes were rising from the black pool surrounding Lectra. Headless humanoids with the arms replaced by sharp, lengthy blades.
There were already a dozen beginning to sprint straight toward him and he hadn't even managed to project more than the two weapons in his hands. In the back of his mind, the hammer of a gun struck down, opening his circuits wide while he shouted "Trace on!"
He needed the extra firepower and both actions gave him the boost he needed to begin materializing weapons as the first creature neared striking distance.
It was poised to slice him in half from above, with one arm raised high. Shifting to one side, Shirou prepared to bisect the creation but suddenly noted its other arm. Pointed directly at him, it was extending beyond its normal length to try and stab him. Eyes widening in surprise, Shirou fired the first projection from underneath his arm at the clump's centre mass. With the blade striking true, the creature fell over only to be replaced by another.
Defending the incoming blows, Shirou rapidly reflected on what had just happened as violet-black blades danced off his own. The first clump had deliberately played on his reactions. Had Lectra been controlling that one so finely or had it made such a cunning feint on its own?
No, such a thing was impossible. Lectra's creations couldn't think, could they? Slipping beneath their locked blades, Shirou roughly jammed both weapons up to run a clump through the middle. Thankfully, the penetration seemed to destabilize the being and it melted into a liquid around his blades.
It was only one of many and he was quickly being surrounded. He couldn't see Lectra through the shifting forms which meant he wasn't able to get a clear shot with his projections.
There was no easy ending possible it seemed. Settling on the fact, an array of weapons began forming and firing from the air overhead haphazardly, focusing on volume instead of quality. Despite some being skewered sometimes twice, the clumps didn't seem all too bothered. He needed to change his strategy otherwise he'd be mobbed.
With one quick adjustment, he reworked the queued weaponry to be overloaded with mana. It was a tactic developed by his older self, something that took advantage of the disposability of his projections. Personally, he didn't like projecting unstable weaponry but for the exact situation he was in, it would work perfectly.
Catching the sword arm of one beast in the cross of his twin blades, the boy reinforced his leg and delivered a rough kick, sending the creature sprawling onto its back. Around him, weapons charged to the breaking point with additional mana poised and fired. Striking targets seamlessly, each weapon exploded upon contact and shredded the creations apart entirely. In short order, the mob surrounding him lay in slowly sinking, semi-coherent piles upon the ground.
Directly ahead, staring at him expectantly, stood Lectra. Cockiky planting one hand upon her hip, the girl tilted her head to one side. "If you're going to keep struggling so much against those basic clumps maybe we should call this fight off."
Shirou's brow twitched down in agitation. She was feeling bold enough to smack talk? Maybe he had taken the fight a little too lightly. Standing straight, Shirou projected and fired a single overloaded weapon at the woman.
Unexpectedly, she didn't move or try to dodge it at all. Instead, two inky shapes sprouted from her shoulder and struck down his weapon in mid-air. The collision of the conflicting mana created a large explosion that completely concealed Lectra in dark smoke.
Half expecting some new technique, Shirou wasn't surprised. Instead, he had already prepared a barrage for when she would expectantly burst from the cloud of smog.
Eyes catching a shift in the smoke's boundary, Shirou let loose six blades sporadically to try and randomly strike his target. Sinking into the smog, he only heard two clatters against the concrete walls, meaning four had struck something.
Watching the spot his weapons disappeared, he tried to peer through the smoke, concerned that he might have grievously harmed Lectra. His concern grew when he failed to hear anything for the following five seconds. Calling out her name, he took a step forward to investigate but stopped short when he heard a scratch from overhead.
Head snapping upwards, his eyes comprehended nothing more than a shape falling on top of him. Getting his blades up took everything his arms could offer and even then his defence was miserable by all accounts. Whatever the shape was, it struck close to the guard of his weapons with enough force to snap them both out of his grasp onto the ground. Clattering away uselessly, they had at least spared him from the worst of the attack.
The shape slammed into the ground and shot upright, revealing Lectra bound in a similar inky material to her own ether creations. Rising above her shoulder blades were two clawed appendages that matched the ends of her own two arms. He couldn't get a great look though, as she immediately readied her next attack.
Hands moving to block before the swords even materialized, Lectra's artificial claws produced sparks as they slid across freshly produced weapons. Abruptly, she switched to using the arms on both sides to attack simultaneously, forcing him to separate his blades. Once apart, her secondary set of arms wrapped around his swords and ripped them straight from his hands.
Weaponless, Shirou tried to dart back but something met his stomach before he could. His feet left the ground from the force and before he knew it, he was tumbling along the ground a moment until he threw out both arms to stop himself.
Reeling for oxygen as his diaphragm spasmed uncontrollably, the boy struggled to lift his upper body off the ground. He was certain one of her arms had slipped under to punch him, but why did it feel like he'd just been struck by a truck?
Finally managing to lift himself up and recover a gasp of breath, he planted a hand on his stomach to find his clothes had blown apart, leaving bare, bruised skin beneath. Being his first fight since the Grail War, he became instantly aware of Avalon's reduced capabilities. The pain that radiated through his core would have abated in seconds from something like that had it happened then. Setting his jaw, he settled with the fact he would just have to re-acclimatize himself to pain.
One thing was certain, Lectra was definitely better than before. Her, her creations and her tactics had all improved leaps and bounds. It wasn't possible to train so effectively within a month under someone like Lord El-Melloi the Second, so had she learned from Luvia?
Coughing violently before taking a deep inhale, Shirou ensured his lungs had survived the impact. His ribs weren't quite so lucky.
"Are you done?" The question asked from the centre of the room. Shooting the woman a glower from his half-prone position, she grew sheepish. "That looked really painful, so I wouldn't want you to keep hurting yourself."
Blinking rapidly and giving his head a small shake, he pushed himself onto his knees to begin standing. "How damaged can this room get before we have to stop?" he asked nobody in particular.
From the secured spectator area, Waver called out an answer. "So long as you don't bring the ceiling down on our heads you can do as you please."
Fully standing, he tore the last scraps of his shirt from his body and funnelled mana into his craft. Against the steaming hot circuitry, the cool underground air felt unbelievably refreshing. Beneath his nose, he could actually see a faint blue glow from his chest but he was too focused upon one single thing.
Understanding what his actions meant, Lectra took a step back in fear. More humanoid figures sprouted from the ground and between the two, providing the girl with distance. Ether from beneath her clothing and the ground collected around her, shifted, then took form. Instead of a woman with extra arms, what he could only call a demon stood in her place.
Standing on digitigrade legs to a height of fifteen feet, the figure featured a large body and wide shoulders to accommodate two sets of arms each ending with claws. A thick, neckless head sat between the shoulders with forward-facing horns like a bull's on either side. Dominating the face of the creature was nothing more than two angered eyes of pure contrasting white.
As formidable as it looked, Shirou didn't mind. He was still focused on the one and only thing he needed to be. Inhaling sharply, he snapped to firing position as Archer's bow formed in the space.
"I am the bone of my sword."
… … …
Rubbing his knuckles through his gloves, Shirou performed a quick analysis of his condition. His reality marble was doing its job holding his body together, but he would definitely need medical attention for his chest before he turned off his circuits.
After giving the fight his all, he hadn't taken any more damage, though it still hadn't been easy. He had used Time Alter and numerous mystic codes but didn't go as far as using a noble phantasm. Placing a hand on his chest, Shirou took an experimental deep breath and winced at the pain. He couldn't deny being surprised by the damage. Despite reinforcing both his body and outfit, a single blow had managed to almost knock him out of the fight entirely.
All in all, Lectra's abilities were quite commendable. She only fell short when it came to raw experience and strategy but both of those would come with time.
Turning, he looked over at the unconscious girl as she was tended to by Rin, Illya and Flat. In the end, he hadn't even really done anything. Merely trying to keep up with him had exhausted her to the point that she just collapsed mid-fight. He was somewhat thankful. Lectra was just as — if not more — stubborn than he was which meant she wouldn't stop fighting until she was physically incapable. To that end, it was better he hadn't been forced to harm her.
Rin peered up in his direction, stood and approached with a look of concern upon her face. Spreading to Shirou himself he asked, "What's the matter, is Lectra alright?"
Rin blinked a few times, eyes flickering from his own to his chest and back again. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror recently?"
Peering down at himself, he wondered what she was concerned about. He didn't see anything out of place. There were no wounds, no blemishes or any sort of strangeness to speak of. "What's wrong, is there something on my face?"
Approaching, she hesitantly touched a ribbon of his magic circuits and recoiled as if she had been burnt. "You've taken courses here, haven't you ever heard that magic circuits don't expand?"
Peering down, he noted the blue glow. The thick ribbons of his own circuits arching over either shoulder had connected to the small, intricate lines of Illya's crest in the centre of his chest. What was new was a sprawling mess of thin ribbons that branched off from Illya's crest both upwards and downwards. Thin, angular segments, most of which were under six inches in length, spidered out in random but symmetrical directions. Blinking a few times, he tried to come up with an explanation Rin would believe. Maybe feign ignorance? "Well I…" he trailed off. She definitely wasn't going to buy that. Worse yet, he just remembered that she would be able to tell he was lying by his face.
He could see the accusation in her eyes before she even spoke. "You knew about it and didn't tell anyone, didn't you?"
She was already suspicious and he couldn't come up with a convincing lie. Even if he could, his face was uncovered, meaning she'd see right through him. If the truth was coming out regardless, he'd just speed up the process. "I knew," he admitted, "I've known it's been growing for years now."
Rin blinked several times, shook her head partly in disbelief and struggled to begin a sentence. Eventually, she settled with, "How big of an idiot are you?" Shifting to anger, the woman took a step into his space and jammed a pointed finger dead centre of Illya's crest. "What have you been doing to pull this off, don't tell me you've still been converting your nerves into magic circuits!" Shirou opened his mouth and uttered a syllable, then decided against it and scratched the top of his head. Shoving both hands through her hair, Rin gripped tight and shouted in frustration. "You know how dangerous that is. Each time you convert a nerve into a circuit, you have the chance of causing a chain reaction and killing yourself right then and there."
"I know," he declared.
"You know? Then why do you keep doing it?"
If he thought of it, all his reasoning revolved around one thing: "So I can get stronger."
Rin pulled her hands from her hair and stared at him, totally dumbfounded. "So you'll risk your life countless times just for a fraction of extra strength?"
"It's not exactly a fraction," a calm voice pointed out. Feeling a poke to his back, Shirou twisted to find Lord El-Melloi the Second peering at his circuitry as well. "Even if you only place one grain of sand per day, eventually you'll have a desert. If he's comfortable with the risk, the potential reward might just be worth it." Making a small hum, he poked and prodded a few different places. "Though I've never heard of nerve circuits ever becoming permanent additions to a crest."
Rin thought for a moment. "That might be because nobody was stupid enough to try it so many times for so long. Then again, those that did probably died early in the experiment."
Approaching from the front, Lord El-Melloi gave a quick look toward Lectra on the ground, then faced Shirou directly. "Have you ever considered playing the lottery?"
Confused, Shirou tilted his head. "What does the lottery have to do with this?"
"Your extraordinary luck borders true magic itself. You must have converted hundreds of nerves into circuits. How you managed to avoid death each time is a miracle, truly."
"But how?" Rin asked in genuine stupefaction.
Shirou had an idea but it was just a basic hypothesis. Like many of the oddities in his body, it went back to Avalon. Not only was it preventing him from dying during the actual conversion process but somehow it was binding the freshly made circuits to his crest. He couldn't complain, it had been working so far. "Just another unique thing about me, I guess."
"Of course," Rin scoffed in defeat. Letting her hands fall and clap against her thighs, she shook her head. "Why wouldn't there be something else with you that's messed up."
"All parts that make Shirou who he is," Illya chimed in. "Now if you're done over there, I need some help carrying Lectra. I can't do it myself."
Welcoming the distraction, Shirou wordlessly moved past Rin and the Lord to assist Illya. Though, perhaps it was more accurate to say he took over entirely. Illya positioned herself to help take one side but Shirou carefully picked her up on his own bridal style.
Hauling Lectra to the spectator area while Illya berated him for working too hard, he carefully set her onto the ground. "I was the one who pushed her this hard so I might as well take the responsibility."
"You're correct in both statements," Waver commented. Passing on his left, the man knelt and laid a hand upon the girl's forehead. "I hadn't seen many of the techniques she used and she never passed out during her training." Pausing a moment to hum thoughtfully, the man stood and settled onto a bench up against the wall. "She'll be fine. She's just exhausted her mana." He didn't say anything else directly but his expression indicated he was holding something back.
Shirou poised himself to ask but was tapped on the arm before he could. Turning, he faced a murderous glower from one Svin Glascheit. "You're not worn out yet, are you?"
Shirou was a little unnerved by Svin's expression but was too bemused by the question to do anything but unconsciously answer. "I'm fine, why do-"
He wasn't able to finish his sentence before a hand landed and gripped onto his shoulder. Had it felt normal, it wouldn't have interrupted him. Only, it was far from normal. The hand felt larger than normal, the pressure was far tighter than expected and almost felt as if he had been stabbed. Furthermore, his feet had left the ground and he was being flung toward the centre of the room.
Tucking his head and shifting his weight, he was able to land on his other shoulder and use the momentum to roll into a stand. Twisting to face his assumed new opponent, emerald blades formed in his hands. Holding weight, a searing pain made itself known in his right shoulder.
From the spectator area, Rin called out his name in concern, then looked toward Svin. "What's wrong with you?" Stepping forward, she was held short by Gray. "That was a cheap shot and you know it!"
Glancing toward the source of pain, the boy discovered a few bleeding wounds where the material of his clothes had been torn apart. The wounds showed evidence of claws, a reminder of Svin's brand of magecraft. "Consider it a handicap," was all the blond replied with.
Staring at one another, Shirou tried to diagnose the injury without moving or bringing attention to it. With a self-trace and a squeeze of his hand he could conclude that the arm was functioning at half capacity. On the plus side, it was still attached and would remain that way due to his reality marble which had already stitched the wound together. Eyeing Svin, he tried to find a trace of blood. With sword-flesh, his body naturally lashed back and harmed his attacker - especially one that contacted him directly - yet he couldn't see any indication that it had done so.
Brain working backwards to latch onto Svin's words, Shirou put the pieces together. "If you keep stacking these handicaps I might lose too easily. Then you'd never know for sure if you're truly at my level." His magecraft was simultaneously offensive and defensive.
Leering unflinchingly, Svin bent slightly at the knee and flared out both arms. "If that were to happen, you'd fail to live up to rumours, Blade."
The name spoken with blatant hatred was a clue but nowhere close to a definitive answer. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to listen to rumours?"
Blue flame ignited beneath the blond's feet and flickered up his legs before rapidly consuming his entire body. Against expectation, the fire clung to his skin and seemed to take definitive shape. It was no longer a man that stood before Shirou, but a distantly familiar creature, a werewolf.
An unmistakable shape, especially since he'd had the misfortune of taking two head-on. There were two distinct shades of blue making up the fur of Svin's new form. Lighter blue surrounded what Shirou would call a mane as well as his tail and parts of his body as accents. Tracing from a distance, he discovered that Svin, like Lectra, remained inside like some sort of pilot in a suit. In fact, even the structure of the legs was reminiscent of Lectra's ability. Had she taken inspiration from him? Preparing himself for whatever happened, Shirou stared onward from behind his blades. "So which one of you taught the other?"
"That isn't important right now," the man-turned-wolf growled. "Shouldn't you be preparing yourself?"
Shirou did his best to appear unfazed. He considered trying to talk the man down but shut the option down quickly. It was obvious Svin wasn't interested in conversation and talking would further upset him. Instead of replying with words, Shirou created and fired a dozen projections at once.
As they materialized, Svin lunged forwards, running straight onward with seemingly no intention of deflecting the projectiles. The assumption held true and when wolf met blade, Shirou was appalled as the projected steel ground against and then off Svin's fiery fur as if he were made of steel himself.
The hardness was a surprise, but there was enough distance for Shirou to readjust his strategy. Dumping an overload of mana into the blades in his hands, the boy threw them upwards while simultaneously projecting his bow. A nameless sword modified to work as an arrow came next and he deliberately redirected his overhead blades to move just ahead of Svin's face. Hesitating a twitch to account for travel time, Shirou released the string and watched his calculations pay off.
The blades were millimetres from Svin's snout and the arrow struck them both simultaneously. On collision, the two weapons exploded violently, bathing the area in a cloud of blue released mana and black smoke. Waiting with another projectile primed for something to exit the smog, Shirou eventually released the tension and watched patiently once his senses detected no danger.
A careful combination of acts that took only seconds and relied on perfect timing. He had never tried the strategy before, but Archer's memories and his own theories supported it through and through. Archer had referred to the technique as breaking a weapon and the servant used it often. Shirou could see why. Even with basic weaponry, the effect had been as impressive the second time as the first. The technique was shifting from hated to liked with each deployment.
Obviously, basic swords weren't going to work if the battle continued, so Shirou prepared a unique weapon on standby as a precaution.
"You bastard," a cough insulted from the cloud.
"I gave you fair warning," Shirou defied, keeping his voice empty and level. "You forced me to step things up, I'm sorry if I hurt you." Despite agreeing to fight in the first place, he wasn't cruel enough to deliberately cause lasting harm to people he knew.
"I was suspicious from the start, your smell made no sense." Shirou blinked and his shoulders relaxed unconsciously. Had he missed the start of a new conversation somewhere? "Sharp, metallic, cold. Nobody normal smells like that."
The smoke was waved away partly as a large blue figure stepped out into sight. Readying his bow, Shirou projected another sword-arrow into place. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he calmly stated.
Gripping the side of his head before giving it a rough shake, Svin stood fully upright. "Exactly the problem," he growled. "You don't even know the pain you caused, the suffering you put Gray through." Furrowing his brow, Shirou fell deeper into confusion. Whether on purpose or by coincidence, Svin subsequently abated some of it. "Could you not see beyond your own purposes? The damage caused by a fake death? All you are is a cold, empty weapon."
The confusion that left was replaced with anger. "That's what this is about? It wasn't like I wanted to leave like that. My hands were tied!"
Swiping one hand as if to wipe the thought away, Svin lumbered closer. At such a range, there would only be two seconds to make a move. "No excuse, you could have told us an-"
Reinforcing his arms to their limit, the handle of his bow audibly cracked beneath his tight grasp. "And risk having any of you spill the information to Reines? Take a minute to think!"
Obviously getting to the wolf, the animal-boy lunged forwards into a full sprint. Releasing the string, the sword-arrow was fired and expectedly avoided. That was, until Shirou redirected it to strike the centre of Svin's back. Rather than the sound of piercing flesh, a grating, metal-on-metal noise echoed through the chamber. An arrowhead heavily modified to include tungsten carbide as a penetrator had done the trick.
Arching backwards, the man continued forwards perfectly into range. Casting aside his bow, the boy lowered both hands to his side to grip a handle that didn't exist just then. The halberd used by an Einzbern homunculus, Riesenarm, rapidly took form while he swung with all he could muster.
The weapon schematics alone told him it was obscenely heavy, but he hadn't expected it to be so ridiculous. His body had been reinforced to the limit and despite straining himself beyond that, the speed of his swing was far less than he would have liked.
Striking square, the power behind the impact sent Svin sprawling sideways while Shirou hardly even felt anything through the handle. Completing the swing, Shirou decided to release it, allowing the momentum to further carry the wolf-man away. The super-dense weapon crashed through and uprooted the tile floor as it carried both itself and Svin to the far wall.
So far, Shirou was far from impressed. Not only was Svin letting his anger over something meaningless cloud his judgement, but he also wasn't nearly as threatening as Lectra. Hearing a groan and watching the aforementioned man slowly stand upright, Shirou could certify that he was more durable if nothing else.
Another weapon leapt to mind from Archer's store. Though, would a noble phantasm really be necessary? He wondered if it would be considered overkill for the situation. On the other hand, it would be the fastest way to resolve the battle.
Svin bent down to collect the weapon that had been thrown at him. Interested, Shirou didn't even bother dematerializing it. Instead, he watched as the man tried, struggled and barely managed to lift the handle off the ground. "Selfish and heartless. You don't even care, do you?"
Making a decision and projecting a crimson spear into his right hand, Shirou shook his head softly. "Staying any longer than I did would have jeopardized the lives of myself and my family. If protecting them only cost a few hurt feelings, I'll accept that, but I won't apologize."
It was almost a waste of breath. With a feral grunt, Svin haphazardly flung the halberd in Shirou's direction and charged behind it. Standing where he was, Shirou dematerialized the weapon before it could contact him. Showered in blue sparks, the boy readied the spear in his grasp. The first strike was made by Svin, a simple slash that would have shredded Shirou's face had he not ducked.
The flurry of reckless, careless slashes that followed reminded Shirou of genuine bestial ferocity. It worked for Svin only due to his speed. Keeping up only barely, Shirou couldn't find an opening to use his projection. Thankfully, it seemed capable of holding up against Svin's strikes and worked well to keep claws away from flesh. The previous wielder of the weapon was remarkably skilled and his abilities saved Shirou's hide, literally.
"I'll keep you from hurting her ever again!" As the wolf reared back, Shirou braced both arms and positioned his spear to defend what was to come. With all the power he could likely summon, Svin crashed both hands against Shirou's guard, skidding the latter backwards with each blow. Each strike brought out another word from Svin, who seemed hellbent on muscling straight through instead of thinking logically. "Can't — even — give — an — apology?"
Growling, Svin switched from overhead strikes to an open palm underhand. The spontaneity of the act left Shirou unprepared, but his reactions were fast enough to adjust. Shifting his body back, Shirou released his weapon and allowed Svin to fling it upwards into the air.
Was the middle of a fight really the best time to have an emotionally laden dialogue? Wasn't that nothing more than a tired cliche? "The only thing I have to be sorry about is this!" Modifying the spear's velocity in mid-air, Shirou rotated and fired it at a specific angle straight down. Placing his hands outwards, the spear landed perfectly in his grasp with a hollow dong while the boy thrust it forward toward Svin's chest.
He had only been operating on the description in Archer's memories, but it was obvious by the soft patter upon tile that it had worked. Blood trickled down the shaft of the spear, trailing far enough to reach Shirou's hands and drip upon the ground messily. Gáe Dearg, one of two demonic spears wielded by the hero Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. Capable of nullifying and destroying all magecraft.
The head of the spear was lost behind the bright, flaming blue shell, seamlessly penetrating the magecraft to strike the man underneath. Uncertain as to where exactly, but hoping it was something non-vital, Shirou held short of thrusting straight through. He wasn't looking to kill Svin, just get him out of his deranged state of mind.
Holding the weapon stiff in place, Svin coughed and subsequently winced at the pain the action caused. Moving his arms, either to grab Shirou himself or the weapon, Shirou pushed forward, further embedding the weapon into Svin's body. Glaring up at the wolf-man, Shirou twisted his face into a scowl. "Keep fighting and this goes through you. Give up now and avoid the risk of dying."
The snarling head of a wolf glared back down at him. Without uttering a word, Shirou could sense he intended to continue through Svin's eyes. Had all sense gone out the window?
Svin reared back one arm, but Shirou had already prepared. Two more spears identical to the noble phantasm he had just used appeared over Shirou's head and shot forward. One positioned at head level and the other in the path of travel of the wolf's hand. Stopping short, Svin halted his own movements to avoid risking impalement on stationary weapons.
Drawing back, Shirou let out a sigh and shook his head. "This is over. I only agreed to this because I was asked to train you. There's no point trying to teach someone who can't control themselves." Turning his back, Shirou threw up one hand over his shoulder and began walking away toward the spectator area. "You wouldn't learn anything."
A growl of frustration, the noise of shoes on tile and their angered stomp away. "I won't forget this!"
Overall, Svin has been a disappointing opponent. If that had supposedly been his peak performance, it was far beneath that of Lectra and she was woefully inexperienced. Svin was only mildly more impressive than a genuine werewolf. His speed and strength were a near-identical match but Svin's sheer durability made him a dangerous foe to a typical opponent.
In fact, if Gáe Dearg hadn't been available, there wasn't a guarantee Shirou would have been able to stop Svin without severely injuring him just to get through his magecraft shell.
"Well I can't say the outcome was unexpected," Rin sighed loudly. Planting both hands upon her hips, she tilted her head. "He seemed really upset with you over something. Hard to hear anything from over here though."
Shirou opened his mouth to speak but the words were taken from him. "Blade's death affected both Gray and Lectra, and Svin took notice. I believe he's held quite the resentment for some time, understandably."
Albeit direct, it was a rather succinct analysis. "It makes sense, though what else could I have done?" Shirou's question was directed to no one in particular and it seemed that the same number of people wished to answer.
Eventually, Flat slapped both hands onto his knees and stood upright with a jump. "Welp, are you still up for a fight?"
Flinching in confusion and blinking a few times, Shirou had to think heavily on the question being asked of him. Before he could answer, Gray's coat shook with a muffled laugh. "You really don't know how to read a room, you incompetent oaf."
Twisting his head, Waver narrowed his eyes and growled. "I thought I explicitly told you not to speak in his presence."
Gray's coat grumbled. "Lay off, Lord. He's seen me a number of times now and nothing bad has come of it. This cat of yours is already out of the bag." Chuckling, the voice abruptly stopped and grew thoughtful. "Or would it be a cube from a cage?"
Carefully, Shirou tested the arm Svin had damaged. It was growing difficult to move as time stretched on but it was still holding enough to be usable. Recalling even the name of Gray's weapon brought the blueprint — and a stabbing pain — to the front of his skull. It was as if it had been written in a different language, an indecipherable mess that swarmed his consciousness and overloaded him with information. Similar to Excalibur, it plainly told him that it was irreplicable.
Wincing and bringing up a hand to try and force the pain away, Shirou shut one eye. "That's Add, right?"
Noticing his discomfort, the Lord raised an eyebrow. "Is something the matter?"
"No, I'm alright. Some weapons just give me a headache when I look at them."
"Is that so? Do you know which type of weapon causes such an effect?"
Rin glared at him from the side. Even though she didn't say a word, he could hear her clearly. Countless times, she had told him not to reveal anything about his magecraft to anyone, including her. She had grown accustomed to being involved with him herself but still hadn't given up on keeping him in check when it came to others.
Biting his tongue, Shirou tried to deflect the question with a half-lie. "I'm not entirely sure. It doesn't seem to be limited to a specific type or class of weapon."
Balancing on the line of plausible deniability once more, the Lord merely hummed. Shirou did in fact have a decent idea of what types of weapons caused him problems. Divine and Fae crafted were two types he could think of off the top of his head. There were obviously outliers, of course, Avalon being the most prominent. Still, he didn't truly know what caused him issue exactly.
"Perhaps there's merit in determining the precise reasoning for this issue then. It could help you avoid being caught off guard by new weaponry. Unfortunately, I have nothing of the sort to offer and the only source I could think of killed my servant in the Grail War."
It took a great deal of concentration to keep his face stoic and prevent any sort of subliminal response. The fact such a thing was brought up so deliberately meant it was a probe. A simple test to see how much Shirou knew of the Fourth War or something more sinister? Lord El Melloi the Second wasn't exactly a trusted, long-standing friend. He was, at the end of the day, someone his father had tried to kill and a magus seeking a higher status for themselves. "How unfortunate," he eventually went with. Electing to swing the conversation in an entirely new direction to avoid further questioning, Shirou turned to Flat. "If you're interested, I can still fight." Rotating his injured arm, the boy spent some mana to re-project his clothing. "Though I'm not exactly in peak form if that's a problem for you."
Flat's face ignited with joy as he exclaimed, "Not at all! It's been so long since I've been able to fight and since the last time you embarrassed Svin and me I've been waiting for a rematch!"
Pumping his fist victoriously, a look of determination spread along the blond's features. "Do you really think it's a good idea to keep fighting today?" Illya asked. "You've already stressed yourself enough."
"It looks worse than it is," Shirou passed off. For once, it wasn't a lie. Sword-flesh obviously looked bad, but since he had unlocked his reality marble it had practically stopped spreading while active.
Pouting, the albino crossed both arms over her chest. "You always say that," she huffed. "The problem is, you're so stupid that you actually believe yourself which means I can't tell if you're lying."
Clasping both hands, Flat placed the edges against his forehead as if to plead. "I promise I won't go overboard."
"Don't hold back just because I happen to be injured. Treat me like an enemy and go all out otherwise this isn't going to be worth it." Turning to walk back to the centre of the arena, Shirou idly rubbed both hands together to warm them up and test if they were bruised. He'd be lying if he said he wanted these sparring matches to end quickly. Fighting new opponents always gave him new information on tactics, possible abilities of others. It would always be worth the energy to learn something new, something he could use somewhere else.
Facing the blond, Shirou contemplated strategy. From what he could remember, Flat fought entirely with magecraft. There was no physical component to his fighting style which put him at a disadvantage against people exactly like Shirou. He'd start at a distance but if need be, he would be more than ready to close that distance and claim an easy victory.
Gauging his reserves, Shirou estimated he had about a third of his mana left. A decent amount if Flat didn't surprise him like the others.
Prepared as he could be, Shirou decided to give the first move away as he had done twice before. "Whenever you're ready."
Flat blinked a few times, deflated and then scratched the back of his head. "Actually, would you mind starting? My entire plan will only work if you attack first."
Brow twitching down, Shirou decided not to question it and began projecting blades. As the first dozen finalized over his head, Flat threw out one hand and spoke something to himself.
Firing the created weaponry, Shirou was shocked when they made an abrupt turn halfway and shot back toward him. Caught in a slight panic, the boy redirected them straight down but found some other force fighting back against him. Shaking violently at the conflicting forces, the blades haphazardly skidded along the tile floor or embedded themselves in pillars.
One blade managed to skim along Shirou's hip before harmlessly landing somewhere behind.
Narrowing his eyes, new strategies already began to brew. "So that's how it's going to be," he murmured.
… … …
Watching Shirou's own weapons fly back at him concerned Illya, but what could she really do beyond watch? She'd already recommended he take a break and her words fell upon deaf ears.
A groan from her feet distracted the girl from the battle ahead. On the floor, Lectra struggled to sit upright and eventually gave up entirely to instead place a hand upon her forehead. Searching and locking eyes with Illya, she asked, "Did I win?"
The Lord answered seamlessly before Illya could open her mouth. "You pushed yourself too hard and your circuits were unable to keep up. A rookie mistake that would have cost your life in a real battle." Huffing through his nose, the Lord leaned forward as if truly invested in the spar before him. "That being said, you performed far better than the others, so good work."
Turning her head to watch Flat and Shirou, the girl winced as one of Shirou's blades exploded against what appeared to be a metal nut thrown by Flat. "Who else has fought him? Did Gray go yet?"
"Just Svin," Illya replied. "He's been going back-to-back."
Ahead, Shirou seemed to abruptly lock in place, giving Flat enough time to throw out a length of tape that coiled around and tightened against the gray-haired man. Directly overhead Flat, more than a dozen weapons appeared and fired down, forcing the blond to move back and preventing further action. Paralyzation waning, Shirou strained against his binds and eventually shattered them after managing to wrap his hand around one of them.
Lectra huffed and eventually managed to sit up with some effort. "How is anyone supposed to beat that? He's not even giving it his all and he's beating us like we're toddlers."
"It's like fighting a servant," Rin added. The irony of the statement did not go missed. "You'd have to be inhuman yourself or have some incredible power that's comparable to his."
"You could take advantage of the part of him that's still human." The Lord turned his head to stare directly at Illya, narrowed his eyes, then turned back. Confused, Illya wondered what she had to do with his words. Did he mean to say that she was his weakness?
He always looked out for her, so there was always a chance such a thing would cloud his judgement. Still, she wasn't a detriment, was she?
Lost in thought, she deliberated over the meaning for so long with such concentration that it took Shirou's voice calling her name to break her out. Head shifting up, she found Shirou staring back with concern on his face." Blinking a few times, she straightened her back. "Sorry, what did you say?"
"I just asked if you were alright, you seemed lost in thought."
"I was," the girl admitted. She was stressing herself for no reason. She wasn't his weakness, surely. "Did you win the fight?"
Shirou nodded while Rin added her thoughts. "I've already treated Flat's injuries while you were distracted," the Tohsaka sighed while sitting down. Peering around, she failed to find the eccentric blond, assuming he had left for one reason or another. "Shirou could have ended it at any time. Once Flat exhausted all of his tricks, Shirou practically walked straight through and knocked him out with a single punch."
Shirou scratched the back of his neck with a half-hearted chuckle. "You make it sound easy. Weaving my way through all of his attacks wasn't exactly a cakewalk."
Lectra made a pouting noise and folded both arms across her chest. "You still haven't beaten Gray yet, so don't count your eggs."
"I think it's chickens," Illya corrected.
Throwing both arms up, Lectra exclaimed "whatever," and went through the labour of standing upright, using the bench for assistance. Both Rin and Shirou moved to help her sit properly. "Either way, it's not over."
Chuckling from the side, Lord El-Melloi stood upright. "I wasn't aware Gray intended to fight." Meticulously, the man reached into his jacket, withdrew a metal case, opened it, retrieved a neatly-cut half of a cigar and placed it between his lips.
"I don't," the woman in question murmured.
Lectra bolted upright and twisted to Gray, exclaiming as she did. "What do you mean? You're the strongest out of all of us, if anyone has a chance it's you!"
Even from her seat at the far edge of the spectator bench, Illya could see that Shirou and Gray met eyes, with the latter quickly darting her gaze away. "Even so, it would be pointless."
The sound of a striking match followed right after her words and with a few puffs, smoke began to cloud the Lord's face. "That's unfortunate, but nobody can force you to fight."
Shirou dropped at the shoulder. "Where was that line when everyone was pressuring me?"
Lord El-Melloi chuckled. "Perhaps my desire to see you fight got in the way." Taking a step away, the Lord aimed toward the door and Gray leapt up off the bench to follow. "Thanks for the display and the free lesson to my pupils, unfortunately I've other business to attend to." Throwing one hand over his shoulder as farewell, the man left the room with his assistant in tow.
Those who remained sat in an awkward silence before a noise that could only be described as falling metal chips sounded from Shirou and a large red stain formed at his shoulder. With a soft wince, he favoured his right arm and sent a hopeful look between Illya and Rin, asking, "Could either one of you stop the bleeding, please?"
Obliging, the two got to work. Expectedly, he was more damaged than he'd let on. There was a great deal of internal damage, including several broken or cracked ribs. Thankfully, it didn't take too long for Illya to fix what she could. Having had some training and practice with proper healing magecraft, she found that it was growing increasingly more natural. There was almost a sense of familiarity despite the fact that it was entirely new to her.
It was possible that, due to her nature as a homunculus, she was receiving knowledge from previous generations. Being the most likely explanation, it was the rationale she went with.
After fixing her brother, the group departed the training hall and returned to their rooms with Lectra splitting off after passing her own. Along the way, Shirou received another phone call and with a few oddly worded exchanges, ended without a goodbye. Inquiring, the boy outright avoided answering and conveniently focused on something else: Bazett leaning against the door to Rin's room.
Spotting the group's approach, the Enforcer pushed herself off the door and reached into her suit. "I don't know who you pissed off kid," she murmured with a shake of the head. Taking a few steps into arms-reach, she withdrew her gloved hand and offered a blank, sealed envelope.
Collecting the envelope, Shirou flipped it over twice, looking for any clue to the possible contents. "Who is this from?"
Bazett shrugged. "I'm in the dark as much as you are. I can tell you that it was delivered by a familiar but nothing else."
Rin quickly interjected. "How do you know it's for him then? Did it bring two letters?"
Bazett snorted. "Yes, actually," she stated bluntly. Reaching into her other pocket, she withdrew a crumpled piece of cardstock. On it, in elegant cursive was a small greeting directly to Bazett and a note.
Peering from underneath Shirou's arm was difficult, but Illya managed regardless. "Bazett McRemitz, please deliver this sealed envelope to one Shirou Emiya and no other. Tamper at your own risk."
"On a positive note, though," Bazett continued. "I've spoken with the board and they didn't laugh when I mentioned you wanted to become an Enforcer. In fact, they almost seemed a little scared."
Lowering the letter to his side, Shirou asked evenly, "That's a good thing?"
Bazett narrowed her eyes. "It might not seem like much, but there are only thirty-six Enforcers under the Clock Tower. The entry requirements are gruelling and we're feared for good reason." Jabbing a finger against Shirou's chest, the woman stepped close and stared up at him challengingly. "Don't forget you're the biggest exception to every rule, most aren't as lucky as you." When Shirou failed to elicit any response, the woman sighed and her expression faltered. "I've got another day of errands to deal with before I can focus on that other task you gave me, boss." Stepping to the side, Bazett strode past the group, offering a greeting nod to the others before she truly departed.
Once she was out of earshot, Rin made a thoughtful noise. "I think I preferred when she called you kid."
Illya watched Shirou examine the letter in further detail. "Boss didn't sound too natural, did it?" She asked no one in particular.
Shirou was too interested in the letter to reply. Instead, after examining it without progress, he held it up for Rin and Illya to see. "Can either of you notice anything off about this? Is it going to curse me or something?"
Even appraising it from a distance revealed a robust bounded field. "Someone definitely took the time to make sure only you would get to read it, though it should be alright so long as you're the only one touching it."
Shirou appraised the letter again and released a thoughtful hum. "Just making sure I didn't miss anything. Seems like it's using tamper detection and self-destruction glyphs. If someone else tried to break the seal, it would incinerate itself."
"Who do you think it's from?" Rin asked what everyone was thinking.
Shriou merely shrugged. "It could be from anyone. Maybe one of the other Lords is looking to employ me or warn me against staying here." Stepping forward, Shirou withdrew a key, unlocked the door and stepped into his room. "Whoever they are, they can wait until I've made dinner."
Isolating the word dinner, Illya straightened and sidled close to her brother as he walked toward the kitchen. "What are you making today?"
"Coq au vin," he replied seamlessly. "I had picked everything up yesterday but didn't have the time to make it."
"Wait a minute, you're both more concerned with food than what's in that letter?" Rin asked from behind. "What if it's a threat from The Queen of the Tower? Or maybe it's a summons from one of the three factions." Closing the door behind herself, Rin planted one hand on her hip angrily. "It could be something big."
Sparing a glance over his shoulder, Shirou opened the fridge and pantry to recover a number of ingredients. Illya had always been fascinated by him when he was cooking. It wasn't by his skill with kitchen instruments or the careful balancing act he performed with spices but the unfaltering confidence he had in organizing ingredients. No wasted thought or deliberation, just orderly selection. In the kitchen, he was no different than a machine.
"Something big can wait until I've eaten dinner. A couple hours isn't going to kill whoever they are, I'm certain."
Rin elected to settle at the dining table before releasing a soft sigh. "I'm just worried," she admitted. "When it comes to requests, magi aren't exactly the patient type."
"If they don't have a choice, they'll just have to learn," Shirou murmured back a reply as he focused on slicing a slab of bacon into small strips.
Per his word, Shirou didn't touch the envelope. He made dinner, enjoyed it along with Rin and Illya, cleaned up after himself and went so far as to have a bath before settling at the dining table again to break the letter's seal.
"I think you need to be holding it while you open it so that it doesn't explode," Rin noted. It was obvious to Illya that she was far more excited about the contents than Shirou was.
Shirou blinked, flipped the letter over a couple times, then appeared uneasy. "Do you think I still have to if I've already broken through the bounded field?" Illya snickered as Rin only looked on in pure stupefaction.
Projecting a knife, Shirou sliced the letter and discarded his creation all in one smooth motion. The contents were nothing special. It was a simple folded piece of paper which featured elegant cursive.
It was left brief and from what Illya could gather reading over Shirou's shoulder, it came from one Lev Uvall. He personally requested his presence for a meeting, stating that he "knew what he was seeking and had information on how to find her." Expectedly, the man wasn't wholly altruistic. There was mention of a favour in exchange for the information. After a few moments, Shirou turned his head partly and asked, "Have you finished reading yet?"
Huffing in annoyance at being discovered despite her discretion, Illya replied positively and Shirou turned the letter over to Rin. After reading it, she grew concerned. "That's the director of the Archaeology Department, but how would he know about you or who you're looking for?"
"I've been asking around and I suppose word came back to him, somehow," Shirou guessed.
Illya was more concerned with the purpose of the letter itself. "Who's this woman you're looking for?"
"She's someone I need to help me with something incredibly important." His words almost came too naturally and the meaning was left so vague she had no other choice but to believe he was hiding something.
Before she decided to pick a battle she couldn't win, she decided to ask outright. "You aren't going to tell me anything more than that, are you?" Shaking his head, she could only pout.
Coldly, Shirou blatantly ignored her attempt at convincing him and stated directly, "This is something I'll need to look into tomorrow morning." Looking across the table at Rin, he continued. "Would it be alright if I left while you were in class? I'd probably be back before you have to move."
Rin stiffened. "What are you asking me for?"
"You're my boss after all, so I need to clear it with you."
It was easy for Illya to see Rin's face quickly flush in embarrassment at the reminder. "This isn't good for her ego," she murmured under her breath as the woman in question puffed out her chest and cleared her throat.
"You're right and as your boss I'll allow you this one time to slack off in your duties." Smiling warmly for a moment, she seemed to remind herself of something in the next. "Just make sure you're back on time."
… … …
… … …
The Department of Archaeology was a region of the Clock Tower disconnected from the main building. In fact, it was so disconnected it lied in an entirely different region of London. It held no physical ties or connections and required Shirou to travel London to an area colloquially known as Rocks Road. Cobblestone roads, antiquated building fronts and a large imposing mansion built more like a castle at the centre, the research building. Unlike the Clock Tower, which resided in a section of a building inhabited by non-magi, Rocks Road was an entire region of the city separated from the normal world through use of a bounded field. From what Shirou had been able to research, normal people were unable to see this region and simply passed by unaware.
A short distance from the Clock Tower, Shirou had taken London's underground metro — lovingly named The Tube — so he would have enough time before Rin and Illya's next class. The physical distancing went hand in hand with the literal distancing of the Archaeology Department from the Clock Tower.
The two were opposed, with the Clock Tower's primary focus being politics and prestige, and the Archaeology Department's focus being pure academics and research into its namesake. That fact alone commanded a sense of respect from Shirou. They were alike, only he wasn't focused on a specific field but developing, perfecting and finding new methods to use his own magecraft.
Approaching and knocking upon the door to the manor, Shirou was surprised when the door immediately opened and revealed the figure of a servant. Not a long-dead hero from centuries past, but one concerned with domestic duties.
Bowing softly in formal garb, a man no older than Kiritsugu neatly folded both hands ahead of himself. Just shy of Shirou's height, he had short, black hair and almost unnaturally bright, pale blue eyes. Despite being under at least two layers of clothing, Shirou could see the top of a tattoo that trailed up along the man's neck on the left. "Greetings, Shirou Emiya. Please enter, the director has been expecting you." Stepping back to open the door wider, the servant fanned out his hand as a gesture.
Thanking the man, Shirou stepped inside and entered a grand foyer. What he noticed first was the glimmering crystal chandelier hanging from the centre of a vaulted ceiling. Next, were the great deal of cased artefacts on stone plinths. Dipping his glasses to trace them, he discovered from engraved plaques that they were supposedly powerful mystic codes. At the same time, he identified that over half were merely convincing, mundane replicas of the original.
Looking onward, he noted an impressive number of who he assumed to be students wandering the building. Leaving one room to the next and climbing the staircase to the upper level, they mingled about their business unaware of his presence. Through an open doorway, Shirou could see a multi-levelled library far bigger than even the foyer. He didn't have the tracing blueprint of the building yet, but he was certain the library would compete against the Clock Tower's own in terms of scale.
The servant from before stepped into view, drawing Shirou's attention as they spoke and guided him onward. "The director is on the third floor, I will guide you there."
Remaining silent, Shirou followed his guide and was brought up the main stairs, through hallways and eventually up another, smaller set to an antechamber before a set of double doors. Against the walls were seating arrangements as if one was expected to wait for entry.
Instead, the servant motioned for Shirou to remain standing, knocked upon the door and entered himself. Alone, Shirou took a brief moment to remove a glove and trace the entire building. Oddly, he found his ability abruptly halted upon reaching the ground floor. Unable to sense the foundation, he assumed there was a basement that somehow hid from abilities like his.
Just after refitting his glove, the door opened, the servant stepped out and then motioned for him to enter.
Doing as directed, Shirou entered a spacious office lined with more display cases, statues, artwork and bookshelves partly filled with books. At the far end of the room, a desk and chair sat before a large window that gazed over Rocks Road and some of the brick buildings composing St Pancras. It couldn't see an extraordinary amount on account of the building only being three stories, but it was a view regardless.
Seated in the chair itself was a man Shirou would call concerning, ominous even. Clad in a two-piece suit with an orchid coloured tie, the man held a perpetual grin beneath a pair of slitted eyes. Flowing from his head and spilling over both shoulders was a mess of curly, voluminous brown hair. "Lev Uvall?" Shirou asked.
"The one and only," the man confirmed, "and you are the notorious Son of the Magus Killer, Shirou Emiya." Shirou neglected to reply immediately. Introductions were more of a polite formality considering the letter that had brought him there anyway. The door behind him shut with a soft noise, shortly followed by the clunk of a deadbolt as it was locked from the outside. Peering over his shoulder, the man behind the desk tried to reassure him. "Just a security precaution is all. Locking the door allows me to erect a bounded field that should keep prying ears and eyes out."
Shirou was unconvinced. "And any suspicious noises will stay inside."
The smile was unwavering. "A man with your background certainly has reason to be suspicious of everyone he meets."
Shirou furrowed his brow. "Have you actually done your research on me or are you just making an assumption based on my father?"
The man leaned forward, placed both elbows on the desk's surface and threw both palms up to the side in a gesture reminiscent of a smug shrug. "I admit it, I'm taking some liberties from both sides. You have to admit the Emiya family has begun to garner some interest in the magical world."
"What do you mean?"
The man shrugged, leaned back into his chair and placed his hands together. "Your grandfather, Norikata Emiya sought out magecraft that verged upon the Fifth Magic and landed himself a sealing designation. Your father, Kiritsugu Emiya became the Magus Killer and terrorized the magical world for a decade before abruptly retiring and disappearing. Evidently, he used this time to sire a son, one who would claim victory in the Fifth Holy Grail War before seeking out Touko Aozaki." The smile upon the man's face grew smug, but Shirou didn't let it phase him.
There were a lot of key, easily knowable details absent, but Shirou wouldn't share information for free. Not like this man had so willingly done. Shirou hadn't been aware of his grandfather, let alone his legacy. Kiritsugu had never mentioned the man once and if his status as a sealing designate was true, his crest was being held in the Tower somewhere. It was a potentially huge boon if it could be recovered.
Even if this man told him nothing else, visiting had been worth the effort for that tidbit alone. "You've got the basics," Shirou passed off.
It was difficult, but he was certain the very edge of the director's smile creaked downward. "It's not easy to learn about someone who's tried so desperately to disappear. You weren't even a known variable until just recently."
Shirou knew that he didn't have a great deal of time before he was needed back at the Tower. He had to speed up the conversation before he was there all day. "If it's not a problem with you, I have somewhere I need to be. If we could skip to when you tell me what you want in exchange for a way to reach or find Touko Aozaki, that'd be great."
The man sighed and dropped his hands to the armrests. "So impatient, albeit expected. Before I speak about the matter at all, I need to know what you need her for. She and I are good friends and I'd rather she not be harmed."
"I'm not out to kill her, if that's what you're asking."
The man's voice flattened."That isn't exactly what I was asking and it isn't any consolation. What do you have planned?"
Clenching his jaw, Shirou mulled it over for a moment. He hadn't told anyone of his goals yet. Would a stranger be the first? "I need her to make a puppet body."
"Need," the man repeated. "That's a defining word. Far more necessary than want or desire. What is it you need this puppet from a sealing designate for?"
He paused again. If he told the truth, he would be forfeiting information that could endanger Illya. If the line was drawn between them, there was no telling who might abuse their relation. Was he willing to place her life in danger if it meant he could extend it? If he was, would he be capable of protecting her sufficiently?
"It must be important if you're taking this long," the man interrupted. "Which means that it isn't for yourself. The selfish and narcissistic seeking to somehow extend their own lifespan often come right out with it and that isn't you." Leaning forward, the man clasped his hands together and placed his chin on top to deepen his analysis. "You're weighing the options of telling me, which leads me to think it's for someone special, someone you're close to and who you want to protect."
Shirou remained silent. His best option was to let the man wax poetic on his assumptions. However true they might have been, remaining unperturbed and stoic allowed him to still have a choice.
"The Magus Killer? Perhaps a loved one with a terminal illness." Watching for a reaction that did not come, he pressed on. "If their identity is such a problem, you need not tell me. However, I would need to know if this individual poses a threat to magi or the magical world as a whole." Taking a breath, the man removed his hands from the desk and leaned back heavily into his chair. "Essentially I'm asking you if this request is on behalf of the Magus Killer."
Shirou paused for a moment. He was already aware of his answer but gave it enough time to make it appear as if he thought it over. "It isn't for the Magus Killer," he confirmed, carefully omitting to comment that the Magus Killer was dead. It was a potential asset to leave the man's status a mystery. After all, the magi equivalent of the boogeyman was sure to keep some from stepping out of line.
Lev watched carefully for a moment, then made a small noise and pushed back from his desk. "I'll accept that," he claimed while standing upright. "I hope you're aware this information doesn't come free."
"The letter touched on it."
Stepping around the desk to the front, Lev leaned back on his desk. "It's convenient for me that it happened to be you seeking a favour." A pit formed in Shirou's stomach. "You see I have a very delicate matter that needs handling by someone who knows discretion." The pit deepened. It was precisely what he had been afraid of. "I need you to get rid of a magus for me." Lev's smile widened as if relishing his own thoughts.
It was one thing to kill in the name of protection or to kill as a last resort against someone who would not stand down. Assassination was an entirely different field. Was he really comfortable with the prospect if it meant he could save Illya?
… … …
While partly winded, he had made it back to Rin's class before they moved. Expectedly, after handing him a collection of books to carry, her first question was, "How did it go?"
Moving in step as the girls began walking through the halls to their next class, Shirou hesitated for a moment to take a breath. "It's certainly given me an option."
"That sounds like it was an absolute waste of time but you're trying to be nice," Illya pointed out.
"It's not that," Shirou cleared up. Struggling with his wording for a moment, he found clarifying impossible. "I'll talk about it later," he assured.
Illya suddenly turned her head to Rin. "Isn't alchemy in the opposite direction?"
Facing the albino herself, the two stopped and turned their bodies. "You don't have mineralogy right now?"
Scowling, Illya shook her head. "In order to take alchemy I had to switch mineralogy to Wednesdays because there's no official classroom for it."
Rin looked from Illya to Shirou and back again. "Well, he's my bodyguard so I guess you'll have to go alone."
"That's not fair, he's my brother!"
"When you have a contract signed by him, you can have him escort you everywhere," Rin replied smugly.
"I signed a contract?" Shirou asked. Their agreement had purely been verbal. He wasn't even being paid for what he was doing.
"Quiet, bodyguard," she snipped back.
"You have magecraft you can defend yourself with," Illya argued, "I don't have anything yet."
"It's the Clock Tower, I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Then why do you need a bodyguard in the first place?" At Illya's logical retort, Rin stammered to find an answer. While they bickered, Shirou placed his head in his hand.
With their words phasing out, he noticed a tapping at his shoulder and turned to find Gray.
Keeping her face hidden from sight with her hood, she softly asked, "Would it be possible to talk in the future?"
It was a question out of nowhere. In fact, the entire situation was out of nowhere. Where exactly had Gray come from and how had she managed to find them in the halls of the Tower? It was just a guess, but perhaps she could subconsciously sense Avalon. "I'm actually going to be busy later today."
"That's fine, the woman replied quickly. "It doesn't have to be today, just sometime soon."
Illya stepped past his side with a haughty "well fine" and gripped onto Gray's arm. Abruptly, she was pulling the girl away, down the hall in the opposite direction. "I still need someone who can defend me in case, so I'll be taking Gray."
Stammering and stuttering in confusion as she was dragged along, Shirou merely watched until they were out of sight. He wouldn't have to worry if they were together. Even if she were alone, the risk wouldn't be that high. Still, he couldn't help but worry. To appease his own paranoia, he supposed he could work with Rin on an emergency contact system.
"Ready to keep going?" Rin asked, prompting him to face her. Doing so, he found the woman already moving and he sped up to keep pace. Walking down one hall and turning into another, Rin asked, "So who is it?" He failed to clue in immediately, but quickly put her meaning together with their previous conversation. Did she somehow know he had been tasked to kill or had she put it all together from that brief exchange? Oddly enough, she didn't sound disappointed or concerned in the slightest.
"You put it together just from that?"
The girl shrugged. "It's not difficult. You're the Son of the Magus Killer, which means there are only two obvious reasons anyone would specifically request you. I can narrow it down to just one by your demeanour."
Shirou might have been surprised, though Rin had always been able to analyze him. It was significantly easier if he didn't have to explain himself, at least. "Marisbury Animusphere," he said simply.
Whipping around and stopping fast enough to startle Shirou, Rin stared agape. "The Lord Animusphere? Are you insane?" she shouted angrily.
Motioning for her to quiet down, he nodded once. "So you understand why I said it was just an option."
Rin's stupefaction shifted to anger. "You can't be serious. You're insane for even considering it an option at all! Trying something like that is basically suicide, especially against a family known for predicting the future!" Despite his signals, she failed to tone her volume down.
Peering around to ensure nobody was gawking, Shirou tried to speak quietly for the both of them. "This is why I wanted to talk to you about it, you'd know if it was possible or not."
Rin set her jaw, anger visible in her eyes as she tried to hold it within. Looking around herself to ensure they had something close to privacy, she took a step closer. "Is this really the only way you can find her?"
"I've gone through more than half the contacts in the old man's book. Only one is willing to take the job and she's asking for two million dollars with half up front."
"Well then pay her the money," Rin stated without hesitation.
"I don't have that kind of money."
"I can spot you, expecting you to pay me back of course."
Shirou narrowed his eyes. "With interest, obviously."
"Of course," the woman smiled. "Between money and your life, I'd say it's worth it."
Peering down at her for a second, he then rolled his eyes. "There's no guarantee that this informant will even find anything useful. They might even be killed trying to find her."
Rin's smile faltered. "So you'd trust another magus and do their dirty work to maybe get information that may or may not be correct."
When put so pessimistically, it sounded far worse. "He asked me to sign a Geass."
"Did you read the terms?"
"I skimmed at the time but read it over after tracing it. Neither one of us can discuss the details of the assassination with anyone else and in exchange for my end of the deal, he'll offer the current location of Touko."
Rin narrowed her eyes. "You're certain that's it, there's no mention of conditions or anything that might screw you over later?"
The boy shook his head but ran another skim over the words just in case. "Nothing, it's pretty short," he noted.
"Then it might not be a trick, in writing at least. He could still be trying to set you up." Huffing, turning and resuming her walk to class, Rin continued while moving. "There's too much risk with trusting an unknown magus so much. We don't even know what they're like. It could be another Reines who wants to toy with you."
"Then why risk themselves by offering this job?"
Entering the commons, ambient conversation filled the air. If Shirou's memory served, Rin's next class required her to cross to the other side. "There's only one definitive law in the magi world and it's to keep magecraft a secret from normal people at all costs. Conspiracy to murder is just Tuesday dinner conversation."
While the pair continued their journey, Shirou briefly spotted Lectra across the room in a similar process. He had three options: work with a stranger to assassinate a Lord, hire the only informant who would take the job or wait and try to find her on his own. None were very promising.
Stopping outside of a doorway and facing him again, Rin planted both hands on her hips. "I'm serious Shirou, if it comes down to those two options then I'll handle it, just let me know." He nodded and the girl moved to enter her classroom but stopped short. "Besides, it'll mean you'll owe me for a change."
He couldn't reply by the time the door opened and closed, not that he would have regardless. While not exactly helpful, she gave him something to think about while waiting at least.
It came down to a consultation of his morals. He was no stranger to murder, but could he accept killing another person he didn't know explicitly for information? That question boiled down to the person he would be killing. Were it someone objectively evil then there would be no hesitation. However, he had no idea what sort of person Marisbury Animusphere was. The name was only a reminder of the task Reines sent him on just before he left the Clock Tower. She had sent him inside the Animusphere manor and the portraits upon the wall gave him no insight into who Marisbury might have been. The young child? The plain-looking man? Reflecting, he noted the lack of a motherly figure in any of the portraits. There was a chance it was her, though, if she neglected to appear on family photos then she likely didn't carry the Animusphere name.
For some time, Shirou wondered why Lev would even want this person murdered. Eventually, the boy decided that it was best to avoid questioning the rationale of a magus willing to employ assassins. Caught in thought, he almost missed a blur heading toward his face.
Ducking underneath, it was on pure reflex that he was able to snag the individual's wrist, twist and roughly bend their arm up, back and over their shoulder. Using his other arm, he torqued on their elbow, straining the joint. The pain from the pressure sent the individual to their knees where they complained loudly. It was a man, roughly Shirou's height with an additional forty pounds of muscle focused primarily in their upper body. From behind it was difficult to see much in the way of features, but he could identify the styled black hair and formal attire if need be.
"What do you think you're doing?" Shirou asked in annoyance, wrenching on the now identified man's arm.
Crying out, he reflexively planted one hand on the wall ahead to try and alleviate the pain. "L-look, just let me go, you don't need to kill me!"
"Kill you? What the hell are you talking about?"
"You're the Son of the Magus Killer, right?" Unconsciously, Shirou pressed further down upon hearing someone use that moniker. The man groaned and slapped his other arm against the wall in surrender. "Someone paid me two and a half grand to punch you and walk away, that's all I know."
The confusion such a sentence offered stumped Shirou for seconds. "Who?" was the first question that came to mind.
"They told me not to say."
Still annoyed, Shirou let some of it ebb into his words. "Obviously, but who are you going to listen to right now?" To accent his point, he pressed down again to draw another noise of pain out of the man.
A shout from behind distracted the two but Shirou didn't release his attacker. "What do you think you're doing?" a woman's voice asked.
"He-"
"Unhand him this instant," she demanded coldly. Turning his head, Shirou found a sharply dressed woman. Brown hair tied into a ponytail, cold brown eyes and sharp, defined features. Wearing a cream overcoat and burgundy pants, there was one thing far more noticeable than anything physical.
She practically oozed mana.
From every pore, just like Illya, she was shrouded with a cloud so dense that Shirou actually lifted his glasses and tried tracing her to see if she was a servant or if it originated from a mystic code. Thankfully, or not depending on how the interaction went, the answer was neither.
Deciding not to mess with someone he didn't know the abilities of with blatant raw power, he let go of the attacker and turned to face a new potential threat. Expectedly, the man ran off down the hall. By her appearance and presence, he had to assume she was an influential member of the Clock Tower. He wasn't well versed in the names of the Lords let alone their appearances but she seemed to fit the bill.
Narrowing her eyes, she seemed to dislike the fact he didn't speak. "It would serve you well not to assault the other students."
Challenging her gaze with his own behind a pair of glasses, he resumed his position beside the door. "So defending myself is considered assault?"
The woman's brow furrowed. "Is that a pass at humour or are you truly ignorant?"
The boy held up both hands in surrender. "Neither, honestly. This is my first day so I'm not all that acquainted with the rules here."
She stepped closer, annoyance visible across her entire body. "Ignorance of the law is no excuse. What is your name?"
"Shirou Emiya," he relayed smoothly.
"You aren't a student," she labelled curtly. For the first time, his surname hadn't been associated with his father.
"I'm a personal bodyguard for Rin Tohsaka."
The woman's face visibly soured. "I see, so you're part of that trio of oriental
students." The woman stepped forward, encroaching within arm's reach. Despite being far shorter than he was, she held all the confidence of someone eight feet tall. "While there are no issues with private protection, you are expected to conduct yourself in a respectable manner." The woman's jaw stiffened and her brow twitched down in anger. "Which means that there will be no physical disputes on my grounds." Glaring up from eyes sharper than a knife, Shirou felt the start of a chill working its way up his back.
When she failed to speak further, he nodded once and said, "Understood."
"There will be no future issues regarding this matter." Her tone was cold, unflinching and resolute. It was less a matter of trying to convince or hoping that he would refrain from offending her again and more of a firm command. Keeping her eyes on his, she took a step to the side and began moving away.
Deciding to take a risk, he let out what was on his mind. "Could I get your name?"
By the look of her face one might have thought he had called her the worst obscenity imaginable. Reeling from this imagined insult, the woman took a moment to come up with her reply. "Barthomeloi, Lorelei Barthomeloi."
As if expecting him to react, she carefully monitored his features. Was he supposed to be familiar with the name? Awkwardness growing, he eventually cleared his throat and said, "It's a nice name."
Shirou was certain he saw a vein pop out in the woman's temple. Obviously frustrated, she briskly walked away without another word.
Distractions gone, he could return to his own thoughts. Or, he could have, had he not acquired an uneasy feeling that he would regret not knowing who that woman was.
He shivered once, then shook his head to refocus on his decision.
Before getting to these chapters I used to think that the Fifth War was my most hectic and complex arc/section of this fanfic. Now that I'm embedded in the Clock Tower I realize I was just a goldfish in a fishbowl. Now, somehow, I've wound up in the ocean.
Ah well, nothing more tireless research and thinking can't handle.
I wanted to take a moment to thank all those that leave kind reviews, especially the ones that tell me not to worry about the negative ones. Inspiring, helpful and kind those are. The negative ones themselves aren't too bad though, even those that offer more... Choice verbiage. Some people have tastes and this fic isn't to theirs. I can't help that, but it shows a type of dedicated commitment that they went through the effort to leave a review rather than just not read it.
I'm no stranger to admitting that my writing isn't the best. Hell, it's subpar on good days. Still, I just like writing and this is my outlet. Anyhow, to those of you worried they might be getting me down, they're not. I'll still write this even if I wind up losing a hand or all my money or something. At the same time though, don't be afraid of offering positivity if you feel like it :)
As per usual, remember to follow, favourite and leave a review thanking Talndir.
