Uh... my deepest apologies for the long delay. Real life was busy, very busy. But I used the Christmas and New Years Holidays to wrap this chapter up. So Rejoice! Or despair! Whatever you prefer...
Chapter 6 - Assault on Einzbern Castle
Kayneth
His whole body felt numb when he opened his eyes, looking up at a cream-colored ceiling. His memories were fuzzy. Someone had accepted his challenge and Kayneth thought it was the Einzbern homunculus. And yet he was attacked by shameless assassins using crude firearms.
To think such a prestigious house has sunken so low as to hire thugs and mercenaries...
And yet it was even more embarrassing to think that a high lord of the Clocktower could fall prey to them. A warm, stabbing pain crawled up his bowels. He remembered. He lost. He was shot through his shield and blackened out. His Mystic Code, mocked and rendered useless by a crude bullet.
No...
He listened to his ragged breathing. He was shot only once, that he remembered clearly. When the second shot came, he was prepared for it. His entire defense was focused on taking it. And he remembered that at least in that, he was actually successful.
How?
He had broken down, his whole body in agony as if exploding. He had been torn apart from the inside.
A curse far more insidious than I had expected...
But at least he was alive. No matter how horrible his injuries were, the numbness he felt now were just the lingering after effects of strong healing magic.
Sola-ui...
As soon as his thoughts turned towards his precious fiancée, the redhead stepped into his view with a pained expression. She looked down on him with what seemed like worry to him.
"You... you healed me", Kayneth realized.
"Indeed. And it was troublesome work at that. I don't know what kind of Mystic Code has struck you down, but it somehow managed to tear through your nervous system."
"So he used the mana flow between me and Volumen Hydrargyrum to create a feedback impulse?", his eyes widened in shock. "But that wouldn't have only affected my nerves..."
Sola-ui gave a sad smile.
"Nerves heal, Magic Crests don't."
The words cut so deep he felt like he was just shot a second time. This accursed bullet had affected his Magic Crest, the priceless heritage of nine generations. The legacy of both his ancestors and himself was at stake. He clenched his fists, trying to lift himself up to see the damage for himself. But the way he was abruptly stopped in his tracks was not because of the numbness in his body. Thick leather straps tied him to the bed. His head was spinning, conflicting thoughts confused him even more. His entire world had been put on its head and now came this as just another startling revelation.
"What is the meaning of this?", he gasped in astonishment.
"Can't you tell?", Sola-ui asked back. "Your entire Magic Crest was destroyed beyond repair. The way it is, you will never be able to use magic again."
He meant the shackles and yet this confirmation of what he had dreaded the most drowned out every thought about his current situation.
The entire... every single part...
Only a few days ago he had taken pity on the Magi in Lancer's world and now he himself was cursed with ordinariness. He ground his teeth in order to stop himself from crying out his agony, but the despair drove tears into his eyes regardless. He was Kayneth Archibald El-Melloi. His entire life, everything he lived for, all for naught. What kind of pitiful existence was left for him?
I should have died on that crane.
"Please don't cry, Kayneth. This must not be the end. There is still hope", Sola-ui purred soothingly.
Is there?
He looked at her questioningly through watery eyes. He was completely at a loss about what his beautiful fiancée meant... the fiancée he dreaded to have lost as well, now that her family had no reason to marry her off to a useless cripple.
"Remember the grail. Remember why we are fighting", her voice sounded like sweet honey. "If you want your magic back, all you need to do is simply to wish for it after our victory."
She was right. Kayneth had never a wish to begin with, only participated for the sake of the prestige coming with obtaining the lost magic of the Einzberns. Now that he was in dire need of it himself, it shone upon his face like a ray of hope.
"Yes. Yes, yes, we can do this! All I need to do is defeat those pesky other Masters..."
Sola-ui's brows formed a frown.
"Lancer can do this", she stated mercilessly, slowly undoing the strap binding his right arm. "I'm afraid that you are in no condition to win for yourself. So..."
Having freed the hand, she held it up, the command spells clearly for him to see. Her own hands felt soft and warm on his pale, numb skin.
"You cannot be serious...", Kayneth whispered.
"You must see the logic in that, my dear", she gave a generous smile. "I already supply Lancer's mana, but I am not his Master. To fight for you, to fight in your stead, I just need those three magic tokens..."
"Don't be ridiculous", his whisper turned darker. "There is no need for you to... to endanger yourself like this."
Immediately after Kayneth said those words, Lancer stepped to Sola-ui's side and into his view. He couldn't tell how much of the conversation he had witnessed, but his insufferably smug smile didn't give him much hope. Kayneth narrowed his eyes.
"I'm afraid I am forced to side with your dear betrothed here", Oberyn said. "You are in no condition to fight. And having such a skilled healer at my side sure could make a difference."
"You...", Kayneth snarled. "You dare to speak like this after you allowed this to happen to me?"
The knight looked taken aback.
"Now you do me a great injustice, Lord El-Melloi. After all, I interrupted my fight to get you out of that madman's reach. But don't be worried", he gave a cocky smile. "The Kingslayer is a corpse on feet. A single scratch of my spear is a death sentence for even the strongest foes."
Kayneth didn't allow himself to be swayed by this double-tongued fool's words. He kept his expression stern.
"She doesn't need command spells to heal you."
"A Master in this fight is supposed to do more than standing behind his familiar", Oberyn interjected easily. "And the command spells are important tools to turn the tide of battle when things become either unexpected or unfavorable."
"And you don't need to worry about your safety then. After I have shown myself to be Lancer's Master, there is no reason for anyone to target you", Sola-ui explained, soothingly patting the back of his hand. "You can just sit back in this room and watch us win for you, protected by your luckily self-sufficient magical fortress you have created here."
The Magus snorted derisively. He knew that his fortress was impregnable. But he still remained wary of that bastard's intentions. Letting him loose, especially binding him to the woman he always spoke so sickeningly courteously with... everything about it sounded like a trap.
"Don't you trust me, Kayneth? Me, the woman you are going to marry?"
He gave a weary sigh.
"I do... I just..."
I don't trust this slimy bastard...
While he was glaring coldly at Prince Oberyn, the hands holding his own one tightened.
"I think you are not quite aware of your situation", Sola-ui spoke, suddenly with a lot more ice in her voice.
He indeed got a lot more aware of the shackles that bound him to the bed.
"As a spiritual healer without a magic crest of my own, I am in no position to remove someone's command spells without his consent", she still smiled, but Kayneth got the impression that the temperature suddenly dropped quite a bit.
"Interesting", Oberyn commented cheerfully. "Pray tell, what if there is nobody to give or withhold that consent?"
"Well, then it is just a matter of extracting them from a dead nervous system. Of course this doesn't necessarily mean the death of the original owner. You see, it is totally sufficient to just disconnect them from the will of the Master."
"You mean, disconnecting the hand from its arm?", Oberyn asked with the curiosity of a true Magus.
"Just so...", was Sola-ui's mischievous reply.
Kayneth stared at the two in utter disbelief. His mind was blank. This was more than simple teasing. It was a betrayal in the making.
"Stop with the inappropriate jokes", Kayneth demanded with coarse voice.
Oberyn looked at him with badly feigned innocence while Sola-ui looked down with a cold stare. She then fingered around the hand she was still holding. She gripped his little finger with one and the rest with the other hand. She started to bend it. Kayneth gritted his teeth as the pressure increased and the pain crawled from his finger through his arm, sending shivers through his whole body. Until it could withstand no more and a terrifying crack announced its disconnection from the rest of his hand. Whether it was broken or just dislocated he could not say, all he knew was that both the pain and his shock about the act itself was mind-numbing. With fresh tears pouring from his eyes, he gave in to her demand.
The procedure went fast, but not necessarily less painful. Sola-ui phased her own hand into the back of his one in order to extract the command spells. An act that felt like a dozen tiny scalpels were cutting open all of his hand's veins at once. And after she had finished her work, confirming the validity of the fresh red marks she gained, a dreadful silence set in. At least she still had the decency to heal his pinky before she and Lancer moved to the living room, leaving him tied to the bed all alone. With more than enough time to ponder about what treachery he had just witnessed.
Lancer, he thought with disgust. I don't know what he did to seduce her, but she wouldn't dare under normal circumstances. That poisonous creature, he... those stares... that must be the key. He is a Magus with a penchant for potions after all. He put her under some kind of spell... yes, that's it... This bastard somehow forced some potion down her throat and made her his slave. That's the only way... I mean... she would never... no... never...
The doubts were still there. He had to admit that she seemed never all that convinced of their marriage. But he was still sure that given enough time she would have learned the value of being married to a prestigious Clocktower Lord. At least if he somehow managed to get out of his current predicament.
His thoughts were soon interrupted though. At once the lights were killed, leaving him in utter darkness. In the first split-second after this he was just annoyed that the two went from threats of mutilation down to childish pranks, but his suspicion was immediately proved wrong as a shiver went through not only his body, but the entire room. From the living room he heard a sudden outcry of Lancer: "Sola-ui!", followed by a shriek of hers and the sound of shattering glass. Panic set in.
"What is happening?", Kayneth demanded, frantically struggling in his shackles. "What is-"
A distant, but constantly increasing roar drowned out his questions. His eyes were still a far cry from being adjusted to the darkness, but amidst the utter blackness he could make out some kind of movement. And with his struggles having died down, he could feel the unusual lack of pressure on his breast, it were only the shackles which kept him on the bed.
I am falling!, he realized aghast. No. The entire room is falling. How-
The movements became more sudden and all at once, the entire ceiling came down upon the tied up Magus, crushing every thought of escape.
Kiritsugu
With only the faint glow of few distant stars in the black sky above him, Kiritsugu Emiya stood atop one of the still rising skyscrapers in Fuyuki's Shinto district, looking down on the carnage below. He heard the screams and later the sobbing of the passer-bys even up here as the Hyatt hotel came down in a flaming inferno. It was hell down there. A cloud of dust and ashes was rolling through the streets, covering everything and everyone. A monument of malicious destruction, a monument of the atrocities the Magus Killer wanted to put an end to.
This was an important step towards it. And yet, why was his hand holding the trigger still shaking? After all, sacrifices had to be made. He only had to make sure that they were not made in vain. All of them. He had learned that a single misstep born out of misplaced feelings can lead to disastrous consequences. Maiya knew that well. While they had worked together, they both lived after that principle, always making sure to accomplish their goals without any hesitation. Therefore he was also sure that she had jumped to his rescue because their goal was dependant on his survival due to him being the only eligible Master of Saber. Every other explanation for her abandoning her position was wishful thinking...
Supporting himself with his left hand on the railings, he couldn't help but stare at the other hand that had pulled the trigger. He knew he did the right thing, Maiya had made sure to let him cripple Kayneth, even giving her life for that. Allowing short-sighted morals to interfere would have been mockery of her sacrifice. He could not allow the possibility of him escaping. After all, like he was the only eligible Master for Saber, Kayneth was the only one for Lancer. That sure didn't make it any easier, but it helped him deal with the consequences of tearing down this impregnable fortress. Kiritsugu forced a wry smile on his lips as he looked up.
"You see", he whispered to the sky. "I haven't gone soft!"
His whole body trembled as the irony hit him. Sirens echoed through the streets below, true heroes arriving in order to fight the flames and rescue what was still able to be rescued while he stood here above, judging his work as the villain that was able to do what was needed to be done. A sick joke... and yet not one without purpose. Kiritsugu gritted his teeth as he averted his gaze.
"Seven billion people...", he whispered in pain.
Arya
"You should have stopped him!", Arya declared angrily, unable of any other thought as soon as she had made sense of his words.
"I'm afraid I only learned of his intention after he had already pulled the trigger", Kotomine explained while he was with his knees on the floor, working to set up some outlandish looking gramophone-like device with a grim expression.
After witnessing the duel in the harbor district the two of them had split up to tail both enemies. While the priest kept observing Emiya, Arya followed the Kingslayer and that Targaryen homunculus to the outskirts of the Fuyuki forest. The particularities of the class she was summoned in even allowed her to effortlessly slip through the bounded field unnoticed. But after the two had disappeared in an awkwardly pretentious looking castle Arya had to return to the hotel where Kirei soon showed up as well. His way of filling her in with the deeds of that monster Kiritsugu Emiya involved switching on the TV and showing her the latest breaking news about an apparent terrorist attack right here in Fuyuki. At least 200 people died in the collapsed building. Two hundred innocents dragged to a fiery death only to kill one man.
"Then you should have killed him anyway! We don't know what he plans next!", Arya pleaded.
"And what if he called for Saber's aid?", Kotomine asked back unfazed.
"Then you could have called me!"
An amused grin appeared on the priest's face. Given the circumstances, it crept Arya out.
"And then you would have heroically defeated the Kingslayer?"
The girl groaned. He was mocking her. And the worst part was that he was right. She had no way to deal with the Kingslayer on her own. She bit her lip in frustration.
"But we have to do something."
"I am doing something. I am contacting Tokiomi in order to hear what he has to say and form a plan."
"With that?", she pointed at the hideous monstrosity of a machine that he was tinkering with.
Kirei gave a resigned sigh.
"For a man so afraid of modern technology Tokiomi proves surprisingly creative when it comes to avoiding it."
"This is a phone?", for a second the gravity of their situation seemed forgotten, the sight was just too absurd for Arya to handle.
"Supposedly", was Kotomine Kirei's blunt answer.
The moment he had spoken, the weird apparatus sprung to life by making cackling noises. It then screeched and the sounds mutated until they sounded like the echo of a familiar voice.
"This toy of yours sounds broken", that voice sneered.
Arya rolled her eyes, it was Joffrey.
"Much the opposite, your Grace", Tohsaka replied. "Good evening, Kirei."
"Good evening to you as well", the priest answered stiffly. "I believe you are aware of the latest happenings?"
"The Magus Killer struck", was his solemn observation. "My familiars were well aware of El-Melloi's fortification in the Hyatt hotel. That someone would dare to tear it down with such crude methods..."
"Who cares about the traps?", Arya snapped. "He killed countless people!"
Kirei made a dubious expression in reply to her outburst, but he didn't seem to scold her yet. It was Joffrey who derided her interjection:
"You are the only one who cares so much for lowly peasants..."
"We should care as well, your Grace", surpringly, Tokiomi came to her assistance. "If the Grail War is revealed to the public due to one man's folly, this affair may become a lot more complicated. Risei said so as well when he contacted me a while ago."
Arya observed Kotomine's reaction to the mention of his father. She found it strange that the old man would contact his son's mentor before his son. But he gave no indication for how he felt about this. For all she knew he couldn't care less.
"What is his opinion as the Church observer?", he asked instead.
"As the neutral observer he is forced to admit that Emiya hid his traces well. He left enough clues for the police to assume that a militant group in opposition to the modernization of Shinto is behind the attack. A little far-fetched, but still flawless in execution. And since he is still focused on other Masters, Risei is in no position to intervene."
"You can't be serious!", Arya blurted out.
"As a fellow human being however", Tokiomi continued strongly. "... he is greatly disturbed by his actions and wants him to be taken care of."
"He wants us to take care of him", Kirei observed.
"Indeed."
'Us'. That meant Arya and Joffrey. Arya grimaced, not knowing what was worse: Cooperating with this monster or their chances to actually win.
"You both should know that Assassin has identified Emiya's Servant as a certain Kingslayer", Kirei announced in a voice that sounded nearly casual.
"Uncle Jaime?", Joffrey seemed aghast on the other end of the line.
"No doubt about that", Arya exclaimed, just so that this bastard wouldn't even get the chance to put her word into question.
Kirei however looked thoughtful.
"I was told that this man is a formidable opponent."
"He... he is, actually. At least back when he wasn't a cripple yet", Joffrey's voice cracked, showing that he was not very confident in his assumption.
A cripple? The Kingslayer?
Arya must have been thrown out of the loop for too long a time. She never heard of the Kingslayer having been crippled before. And she couldn't suppress the smirk forming on her lips. The many-faced god seemed to have taken interest in the case of her lost friends after all.
"Your Grace, how would you judge our chances against him?", Tokiomi asked the boy.
Arya imagined the pale face of that cruel fool. Even if they indeed worked together, there was no way they could touch him and he should know that very well.
"I... he... well, Ser Jaime is of my Kingsguard... that means... he has vowed not to harm me."
Knowing fully well that the others were not able to see them, Kirei gave Arya a dubious glare. She couldn't help but shrug. Technically he was right. But that man was called Kingslayer for a reason...
"You think he would surrender the Grail to you?"
"If I order him to...", he himself sounded not very convinced of that.
After a little pause Tokiomi continued.
"In any case, for the secrecy of magic and this war, it is our duty to focus on Emiya from now on."
"He will likely meet up with the Kingslayer in that castle I've followed him to", Arya thought loudly.
"Yes, the Einzbern residence", Tokiomi agreed. "As the representative of the Einzberns it is to be expected that he set up his base there."
"Emiya's Servant was wounded by Lancer", Kirei added. "According to Assassin, the weapon used was likely coated in a poison that will severely weaken Saber. This is a good opportunity to strike before they find a way to fight it off."
Arya may have not recognized Oberyn Martell during their first meeting, but while observing the battle and hearing his name, she started to remember stories about the Prince of Dorne. It is quite telling for his infamy that they had reached her ears far in the North even though the Starks had barely anything to do with these southern rulers. In any case, she knew of his preference for poisoning foes and told Kirei just that.
"It is still a risky move", Tokiomi observed. "But unfortunately necessary."
"Given the particular differences in tactics between our Servants, it may be beneficial to divide our attention", Kirei said casually, too casually for something that gave Arya a lot of relieve. "With Archer focusing on the frontal assault, Assassin and I can take care of the Einzbern Masters."
"I like this plan!", Joffrey announced suddenly, having unexpectedly found most of his usual vigor again. "I can't remain here like a sitting duck. Father has shown me the folly of that. I need to go out into the field, where my true strength lies! Yes, I will head out and show them how a true king finishes a war! In the meantime the wolf girl can crawl through the meadows for all I care."
Arya groaned:
"Why does it suddenly sound like a bad idea when he says it?"
"How dare you!", the boy king growled immediately.
The priest gave her an admonishing look, but addressed his mentor instead, apparently in order to change the subject quickly.
"Also given the particular infamy of Emiya, it may be advisable for you not to engage in battle yourself and remain here."
"Yes, you don't want to stain these expensive garments of yours, don't you?", Joffrey sneered, his attention successfully diverted.
"You will be fine, facing Emiya on your own?", Tohsaka asked with a hint of concern. "This man has not an ounce of pride of an ordinary Magus after all."
Kirei looked away from the gramophone-like thing, his face deep in thought.
"He will find that I am no ordinary Magus either", he said after some pause.
Tokiomi seemed not convinced, but the priest soon cut the connection, remaining silent.
That man seems to trouble him...
She recalled the interest he expressed in learning his motives. That was more than mere curiosity, there was something in this monster that fascinated Kirei somehow. Arya would be more than glad to get rid of Emiya just to stop the priest from giving her the creeps with this subject. And now since there were only the two of them in the dark hotel room, she needed to get him out of that suffocating silence with another one.
"You are really sure this assault is a good idea? I can't think the Kingslayer gives a fuck about his vow not to just gut Joffrey then and there."
Kirei looked up, forced out of his previous train of thought. It took him a couple of seconds to form a reply.
"I am not that foolish to believe that Archer has a chance of actual victory", the priest mused. "And neither is Tohsaka, just so you know. Archer serves our purpose well enough by creating a diversion, nothing more."
Arya gave a vicious nod in understanding. The plan turned out to be to her liking as well.
Kiritsugu
Screams echoed through corridors of red stone. Screams which seemed to be a surprisingly regular occurrence at this place Kiritsugu found himself in. Screams of a man who got his tongue forcibly removed. Screams of another one who got his eyes burned out. Screams of yet another one who got his hand chopped off. And all of it witnessed by that silver-haired corpse sitting atop a huge mountain of molten blades, piled up in a way to vaguely resembling a hideous throne. Kiritsugu mused that Jubstacheit would look like this man after a decade-long abstinence from shaving, trimming of fingernails and maybe even taking baths, more likely than not. And the corpse smiled. A smile of pure, cruel amusement.
"I choose fire!"
The victim was an old man in grey armor, looking fearsome and proud like a wolf. But bound in chains, the flames engulfed him, melting the steel that was supposed to protect him, cooking the man inside. Another wolf was forced to watch, a ragged and feral one. his only binding was a noose around his neck. His beacon of hope was a sword placed on the ground, the flames reflecting on the otherworldly pale blade. It was clearly out of reach and yet he struggled and fought, crawling forward inch by inch while the noose slowly tightened. Kiritsugu looked into the face of someone who knew that his cause was doomed and yet stopped caring, continuing his battle against all reason, simply because he decided that it was worth it to follow his course of defiance to the bitter end.
When his eyes opened again, he found himself back in the red castle, this time in a corridor, guarding a chamber alongside another white knight. Screams and sobbing filled the air.
"Aren't we supposed to protect the Queen as well?", Kiritsugu spoke with the voice of Jaime.
"We are", the other knight replied. "But not from him."
The metal of his gauntlet clicked softly as Jaime Lannister clenched his fist.
"Your Grace", his voice spoke up again, in a way that reminded Kiritsugu awfully of the way he spoke to Iri.
In front of him was a woman with silver hair and purple eyes. Her hair caught Kiritsugu off-guard for a short moment, but her face was nothing like Iri's. Her features were gaunt and the bones of her cheeks were slightly visible under her wrinkled skin as she looked down upon her plate. She must have been a great beauty when she was younger, but now she looked more like a pale ghost with hollow eyes, looking but not really seeing anything. The maid next to her seemed distraught as well, twitching nervously as she urged her to eat her food.
"Your Grace", the voice said again, soft, but determined.
Now she looked up as if ripped out of her thoughts. She seemed a little confused about where she was.
"Ah, Ser Jaime", she blinked. "I never noticed you entering."
"I was here the entire time, your Grace. Is everything alright?", a foolish question, but Kiritsugu thought to know that he just wanted to stir up conversation.
She averted her eyes again, looking down upon her untouched food instead. Her hand made a feeble attempt at taking the two-pronged fork next to the table, but her fingers refrained from bending around the handle. It was then Kiritsugu noticed faint bruises on her arm that she had tried to cover with a long-sleeved gown. When his eyes moved up to take a better look at her face, there were none to be found there, but there was a large red spot next to her neck.
Bitemarks?
"Didn't you have had guard duty yesterday night?", she suddenly asked out of nowhere.
Jaime hesitated a bit.
"I had", he replied solemnly.
"Most unusual. You must have gotten little sleep between your shifts", she observed with sincere pity.
"We are indeed a little short on manpower since Prince Rhaegar-", he began, but stopped mid-sentence. "Well, I'm just fulfilling my duties, your Grace."
"Duty...", she echoed in wonder, her gaze seeming more distant by the second. "Yes, duty is important. We are all bound by it, aren't we?"
There was it again, the hesitation.
"If you say so, your Grace."
"Duty..." she repeated again, her voice barely a whisper.
Softly, metal clicked once again.
"Duty!", the corpse's voice shouted, overturning itself. "A duty to the king! Have you forsaken it as well? Like those traitors out there?"
"I beg you, your Grace, be reasonable!", a feeble voice answered. "What you propose is an atrocity for nothing but spite!"
A big-bellied man in green and white stood in front of the hideous monstrosity of a throne the corpse was perched on. Reasoning, jesting, threatening and begging at last. In the end, a golden chain thrown to the ground was deciding his fate. He was the next to burn.
"The traitors want my city, but I'll give them naught but ashes. Let Robert be king over charred bones and cooked meat."
A man in a green hood bowed and took his leave. And with a clicking sound, Jaime Lannister's fists clenched again. And the sound of metal turned into a sound of war. Thick smoke covered the sky. Screams echoed through the streets of a large city. And Jaime Lannister tracked down the hooded man who was clad in a soldier's surcoat. The events unfolded in a blur. His hand went to his sword hilt and a second later the man was struck down, the red soaking through his surcoat and staining the golden chain around his neck. When Jaime returned to the throne room, the corpse king seemed still oblivious, despite the knight not having even bothered to sheath his blood-coated sword.
"Is this the traitor's blood?"
"No", Jaime answered truthfully.
"Then you should go find him. Find them all. They shall burn!", he began to ramble. "It should start every moment. And then... I will raise from the ashes, yes. Let them burn! Let them burn!"
He only stopped after Jaime slit his throat. And even then, he still tried to press some choked words out of it before he collapsed and tumbled down the stairs of the throne. Jaime watched him fall, silently, and then watched him collapse on the ground as his blood run down aforementioned stairs, silently. There was no denying in what he did. The blood stained his sword, his gilded armor and the white cloak he was dragging behind him. And yet it was also staining the throne, having spewed upon the bent, molten and misshapen swords it was made of. Breathing heavily, he took a step backwards and then another. Before he had realized it, he himself had collapsed on the throne, staring at the drenched blade in his hands as if he had problems to process just what he did.
"Let them burn!", those words haunted him.
"Let them burn!", they always rang in his ears.
"Let them burn!", they weren't the voice of the corpse king anymore, they intermingled with someone else's.
"Let them burn!", a woman's voice was declaring in cold fury.
Warm tears ran down his face as a golden hand pressed upon the throat of the person he used to love.
"Let them burn!", she repeated madly.
Smoke, the clash of arms and screams were audible outside. The sounds of war in every age. And here he was, in a deadly embrace with a woman of golden hair and green eyes, a face that used to be his spitting image.
"Let... them... burn!", she demanded one last time.
And with the moment the light of her eyes vanished, a black shadow swept upon them, accompanied by a feral cry of beasts long forgotten.
It was then Kiritsugu opened his eyes. His own eyes. He found himself slumped down over the laptop running security footage. Having set himself up in the pretentiously large dining room of the Einzbern castle, he actually wanted to monitor the surveillance cameras.
I must have dozed off.
He couldn't afford the luxury of sleep, not in a Grail War where every moment could prove decisive. Not with what was at stake. And yet... he had seen things from his Servant's life. From that world that wasn't Earth. The information learned from it may prove useful in the future. In this moment, the door opened and none other than Saber himself entered, wearing the black suit Iri had outfitted him with.
"My apologies if I'm intruding", he announced his entrance.
"Not at all", Kiritsugu leaned back in his chair. "What is it?"
Saber grimaced slightly.
"I just thought you need someone to talk to."
"Not really...", Kiritsugu grunted evasively.
"I said you need someone, not that you wanted someone."
Saber didn't wait for his reaction, he just helped himself to a chair.
"Since your return you simply shut yourself in here. I don't think that's a sign for everything being alright", he continued, having folded his hands pensively on his chest.
"I'm just being cautious", Kiritsugu waved towards the laptop, brushing aside that he slipped up a little earlier.
"As prudent as this may sound, we... you lost an ally."
Kiritsugu ground his teeth. He knew what Saber was going for, but it hurt nevertheless.
"She knew the risk. And this is supposed to be a war after all. All we can do to honour Maiya's sacrifice is to do everything we can to win the Grail."
The knight nodded.
"I still regret that there was so little time working together with her. What kind of a person was she?", he then asked carefully.
"I don't think I am the right person to answer this", Kiritsugu admitted. "I doubt anyone other than herself is."
Saber frowned.
"That's curious. Forgive my boldness, but you two seemed close."
"We were just... working together."
"Sure... If working together looked like this in the White Tower, then the Knight of Flowers would have-", Saber stopped himself from finishing the sentence in reaction to the glare Kiritsugu shot him. "My apologies. I didn't mean to deride your... partnership. I was just curious. How did you learn to know her?"
Kiritsugu leaned back. He saw no harm in telling Saber, but he was in no mood for telling stories.
"It's not a very amusing tale, be assured of that", he began evasively. "I just found her in some hellhole of a civil war, where they made use of her for clearing mines and... worse. Come to think of it, I only made use of her as well."
"Did you force her to accompany us?", Saber asked with a frown.
"No. I asked and she came. But given that there was nothing holding her back..."
"Then that means she simply had nothing better to do", Saber interjected defiantly. "Or that she simply liked to stick around you. Decide for yourself what you like better. In any case, it was her decision to join this messy hunt."
He wondered. There was some kernel of truth in what he said, but he couldn't deny that he still saw that shell-shocked girl in front of his eyes, the girl that had seen things that made her forget how to be human. Helping people like her seemed like a natural part of his aspirations... and yet she was never able to truly settle down and leave her past behind. Wherever he hid her, wherever he made her live, she was never able to adjust. Therefore she 'stuck around' as Saber put it. She became something of an apprentice... then a partner... and then...
I made use of her. There is no denying. Because I thought it would make things easier, when...
He gulped. Saber looked thoughtful as well.
And in the end, she died out of a sense of duty.
"I should have brought a drink, shouldn't I?", the knight mused, forcing him out of his thoughts. "Then we could have raised a toast to lost friends."
"No. We need to be sober for the night", Kiritsugu looked back at the screen. There were still no movements in sight.
Saber sighed.
"Alright. If you excuse me, I'm going to get a little fresh air before resuming my patrol. It is awfully hot in here."
The Master found that a little strange, due to the ineffective heating in so large a structure, it was actually a little chilly in here. Despite that, he nodded and watched the Servant raise. The man seemed still unhappy with how the conversation went and left without another word, leaving Kiritsugu alone to contemplate on their further strategy in the Grail War.
Jaime
When he stepped out onto the battlements of Einzbern castle a fresh nightly breeze greeted him. Taking a deep breath, he wandered along them and watched over the dense forest that seemed to surround them on all sides.
Another tactical disadvantage. The trees close to the walls need to be cut down so that archers can take aim at the enemy.
He had to chuckle about his own observation. He wasn't an Archer, was he? And for approaching enemies there was a Boundary Field to alarm them. And then there was the minuscule chance that they would get into a siege.
"Huh?"
He saw a white figure standing a dozen meters away, leaning over the railings and staring into the distance.
"Irisviel?", Jaime whispered softly to himself.
Is no one in this castle using the night to sleep?
He hadn't forgotten about his promise. Iri's role in this sick game... Kiritsugu will have to answer for it. And yet he let it slide for this night. That man had already lost his little affair and poking into the wound with another quarrel was the last thing he needed. Whether he liked it or not, this bastard was still his liege lord. He shook that thought out of his head and decided to join her.
"Hello there", he called out to announce his approaching. "What drives you out into the cold at this hour, your Grace?"
She looked aside, an amused smile on her lips.
"I'm just watching the city, thinking."
He joined her, leaning against the battlements just like she did. The lights of Fuyuki were visible in the distance, emitting a bright aura into sky that drove the stars away as if those artificial lights dared to mimic the sunrise.
"And you can even see the stars out here!", he pointed up to the unfamiliar sky. "I nearly thought your world doesn't have any."
"Well, Kiritsugu said that it has something to do with the artificial lights polluting the sky or something", Irisviel chuckled. "It seems most unusual that something as useful as light can be considered pollution."
Jaime silently agreed. For some time both of them were just standing there, gazing into the distance. The Kingsguard was never a friend of idle talk, or at least he often found himself at a loss of words when he couldn't deflect it with jokes or mockery. Therefore he said nothing and only joined her.
"You've spoken with Kiritsugu", she inquired after a while.
"He's recovering surprisingly fast", he stated.
"No, he isn't", was Iri's cruel answer. "He never is."
"Then why doing this?", he just had to ask. "Why is he sacrificing everything, even you, when it just breaks him?"
"Exactly because of this", Iri gave a sad smile. "He doesn't just think about what is lost, he thinks about everything that may be lost if he stays idle. He agonizes about it, blaming himself over and over. That's why I cannot side with you in this matter. If we fled from our responsibility, it would break him. Maybe not immediately, but over time. He would be slowly consumed by regret."
JaimJaime grimaced. In her mind, there were obviously only two possible outcomes. Her and her daughter in a cruel world or her husband and her daughter in a perfect one.
Just what in the world did he do to her to twist her like this?
"Only the more reason for him to listen."
"I am pretty sure that right now he's thinking about the same question. And the loss of Maiya... he cannot allow to have her have died in vain."
"I had the same impression. Even though... it seems to me that he tried to look as if he took it easier than I do the return trip with you", he grimaced and shivered to underline his statement.
He could not allow that gloomy atmosphere to go on forever. And Jaime succeeded, the lady's features turned softer when she looked taken aback by that sudden change of topic.
"I am... sorry if you don't like my driving...", she spoke defensively, but her crossing arms showed defiance.
"This is not driving, what you do is murder!", he shot back.
While Kiritsugu tracked down Oberyn's Master and claimed to have finished him upon his return, Irisviel drove the two of them to the castle that was their hideout. She was adept at driving a vehicle, having obviously trained with Kiritsugu, but in her endearing joy of the thrill she disregarded all rules of traffic mankind had ever thought of. Therefore his exasperation was only half a joke, she indeed managed to scare all the seven hells out of him.
"I was just testing the car's limits", Iri protested. "If you don't like driving, you can gladly go afoot."
"Again, this is not about driving. It's about me not being able to stand Robert's bloody grin after he hears that I died in a traffic accident. Especially before I had the chance to carve him a red smile."
He was about to add that even he could drive more sensibly without his Riding skill, but her sudden change of expression startled him enough to stop in his tracks. She turned a whole lot more pale, gasping as if something was pressing the air out of her lungs.
"What is-", the second he spoke up Jaime already knew what was going on, a soft tingle went through his body as well. Somebody was charging head on towards them.
"The boundary field was entered", she broke the news down, having become serious by now.
"He's coming on a straight line from Fuyuki", Jaime noticed.
Such boldness. It must be Robert! The exact same foolhardy aggressiveness he proved at Tohsaka's place. So much for that bastard's assumption that Robert made a pact back there.
The two of them returned to the inside, Kiritsugu already awaited them standing in front of his laptop for the ensuing strategy meeting. Jaime wondered what he had come up with.
"It's Robert, right?", Jaime asked upon entering the dining room.
"I don't know", was Kiritsugu's blunt answer. "It is a single Servant without the backup of a Master. He moves fast and in Spirit Form, the cameras were not able to capture him."
Jaime sighed. A shred of doubt crept up the back of his head. The attacker was by all means not sneaky, but he wasn't completely open about his intention either.
Robert would want himself to be seen.
"In any case, let me go out there and finish him", Jaime proposed eagerly.
"Fine, I don't want you winding up without enough space to move anyway", he turned towards Iri. "I'm sorry, but I need you to pose as Saber's Master once again."
"No problem", she replied instantly.
"This Master seems more cautious than Kayneth", he continued to the both of them. "I won't be of much help to you, but I will overlook the battle from-"
A shockwave went through walls, floors and ceiling, even sending some dust crumbling down onto their heads. Jaime moved swiftly to the hitman's side as he switched through the pictures of the cameras he had placed throughout the castle. He stopped at one perched atop the battlements, right above the spot Jaime and Iri had been talking with each other at only a moment ago. The entire walkway was now engulfed in flames. Green flames. Spreading like a living serpent following its prey until it even consumed the camera, ending the transmission abruptly.
"Wildfire!", Jaime whispered in shock.
"You know the weapon used?", Kiritsugu had obviously overheard him.
The knight grimaced.
"Sitting it out is no option, this stuff will melt right through the stones."
There is no way in seven hells that Robert would use something as backhandedly as this in combat. Someone else has just put us under siege.
"So much for any sniping positions", Kiritsugu cursed, just as a second shiver went through the castle. "We have to change the plan. There is a hidden corridor to the woods behind the castle. Iri and I will take that and try to make an escape while you deal with the attacker."
"Right away", Jaime clenched his fist. "I had no intention to be baked like a fish in here."
Summoning armor, shield and cloak, he dashed off and out of the castle. There were no goodbyes and he felt them quite inappropriate since he would only come back after his victory anyway. Phasing through the heavy front doors, he materialized then and there, walking down the steps of the entrance. On the clearing in front of the castle three huge trebuchets were erected. The weights of two them had dropped down into idle position, marking them as the ones responsible for the green inferno above his head. Only the one to Jaime's left was still in attack position. Behind him the entire top of the castle was aflame, the wildfire had obviously spread down into the courtyard. It was only a matter of time before it would attack the carrying elements of the castle, bringing it down. Cursing, Jaime turned towards the figure clad in golden armor that was standing in front of the three siege engines.
Don't tell me...
They were separated by a good 50 meters and yet he could see that face clearly. A face with a smug grin that seemed not at all surprised to see him, much the opposite to his own reaction. A face that was a spitting image of his younger self. With this armor, it was like he looked through a mirror into his own past. And yet he recognized the differences, he recognized the true colours of the brat behind that face.
"Joff?", was his aghast shout. "What in the gods' name are you doing here?"
The boy raised his chest as he was resting his hand on his sword handle. It was indeed none other than Joffrey Baratheon, the first of his name, King of you-know-what. For a moment, all the build-up tension simply fell off his soldiers.
My son.
He told himself that he never actually was, but the thought was still buried somewhere in the back of his head.
"Good evening, uncle!", he called out, obviously in his best mood. "I find your surprise quite unwarranted. Isn't it obvious that I'm besieging your pity excuse of a castle?"
Oh, I got that much, I just wondered how a little shit like you qualified as a Heroic Spirit.
The trebuchet might have been able to give him a hint. Jaime remembered that his sweet sister positioned her son at the Mud Gate, commanding trebuchets that were called 'The Three Whores' during the Battle of Blackwater. At least until she panicked about even that and fetched him back to the keep to make him hide under her skirt.
"You seem nearly pleased to see me here", Jaime observed. "I'll give you that, coming here knowing that I will be your opponent is very brave."
He saw himself forced to correct that notion when he watched the boy wavering upon that, taking a step backwards. Joffrey's advantage was the wildfire, so being closer to the trebuchets made him feel more secure, apparently. And Jaime found himself agreeing.
One hit from that thing and I'm done.
Jaime's sword arm moved unconsciously to Oathkeeper's hilt. Joffrey tensed.
"You don't dare!", the boy threatened with a shrill voice.
"Oh, there is a lot I do dare", he put on his most mischievous smile.
He didn't draw his sword as of yet. Instead he took a careful step to the right. And then another one. As unthreatening as possible. Jaime saw that there was no way he could manage to get out of its firing range, the readied trebuchet moved on its own as if operated by an army of ghosts to keep its aim on him. But he still hoped that by walking in a circle he could move into a position where the idle siege engines would block its firing arc. Joffrey's twitchy attitude however made him doubt that this would work. He was already prepared for the worst when suddenly the weight of the trebuchet dropped down hard. Jaime jumped to the left, putting all his might into his feet to lift himself from the ground. In the same motion he threw his body to the side, so that he was able to put his shield between himself and the fiery explosion that had just swallowed the ground he stood on a second ago. Countless green tongues lunged after him, he could feel the heat and nearly despaired. For a moment he thought the wrinkled face of the mad king cackled within the inferno, inviting him to join the hell he surely must have ended up in. Jaime buried his face under his shield, withstanding the temptation.
He crashed hard on his back, sliding across the cold, wet mud. For a moment he thought that he failed to escape the flames, with his eyes focusing on the green flames close to him. But he immediately realized that some of the volatile substance must have been flung onto his shield, where the living flames already begun to eat through the steel. He hastily opened the straps on his lower arm and threw it away, watching how the shield vaporized, leaving only the ground for the fire to ineffectively nibble at. Taking a ragged breath, Jaime Lannister jumped to his feet. His force jump had carried him surprisingly far away from the impact zone, nearly back into the woods. The whole entrance area of Einzbern Castle however had turned into a burning crater. Despite the disastrous display, a wave of relieve went through the knight of the Kingsguard. This time, his cocky grin was genuine as he finally drew Oathkeeper.
"So much for your trump card, nephew."
He watched how the colour left the boy's face.
"Wh... what... what do you mean?"
"Well, you should have reloaded the other ones while you still had the chance!", Jaime laughed, driven by the thrill.
"Wait, I have to reload?"
Jaime didn't grace him with an answer. He darted forward, weightless like the ghost he was.
"Wait, wait, wait!", the aghast Joffrey struggled to pull his own sword from his sheath as Jaime already stood right in front of him.
Irisviel
The woods behind the castle were dense and shrouded in utter darkness. The moon and whatever stars were usually visible, were now covered by the thick blanked of intertwined leaves above them. Even the green inferno that used to be Einzbern castle was already swallowed by them. Through this darkness the two of them hurried, onwards towards the car Kiritsugu had placed just outside the forest. With this they could escape into the more lively districts of Fuyuki, where there was no danger of getting attacked in plain view.
What is-
Irisviel's heart cramped together. Gasping for air she leaned against a nearby tree. Kiritsugu, who had been scouting forward despite being slowed down by the heavy bag he was shouldering, turned around with a worried look on his face.
"Another intruder?", he implored.
"A single Master. In the direction we are facing right now", she pointed directly ahead.
"Then we have to circle him", he thought loudly, but Iri just shook her head.
"Impossible. He's too fast."
Faster than any human should be.
The thought dreaded her. She sensed nobody else, but he was still charging towards them with insane speed.
"Then I'll go ahead and intercept him", Kiritsugu decided.
Iri let go of the branch.
"I won't let you", she replied sharply.
Kiritsugu seemed taken aback.
"You are sure?"
"This man... I won't let you face him alone", she didn't allow herself to break eye contact, she needed to answer his confused stare with a decisive one.
"I see. It is Kirei Kotomine", he grimaced slightly. "Very well. Then let us await him together."
And so they did. They found a steep ridge that made for good cover while Iri prepared her battle familiar. Einzbern alchemy wasn't necessarily made for combat, but their focus on creating living familiars without the need of biologic material proved to be applicable to many needs and one of those was the need to defend oneself. The only downside was the horrendous prana consumption, something a living magic circuit like herself at least never needed to bother herself with. Meanwhile Kiritsugu used a bunch of three small trees which had grown intertwined with each other as cover.
"Möge das Licht dich in die Irre führen", she whispered her first spell.
Kiritsugu turned towards her and she nodded. They somehow had to bring the odds in their favour and a couple of illusionary allies could prove useful to make Kirei turn his back. Right as she finished the preparations, the enemy himself showed his face. The fake priest stepped into the clearing in front of them, the silver cross on his chest gleaming on what little moonlight found its way through the leaves being the source of light on him. He may have seemed unarmed, but the tension of his body was visible.
"Greift an!", Iri whispered.
Two imaginary volleys targeted Kirei in short succession. The first struck a nearby tree branch, seemingly ripping it apart. The second one hit Kirei directly. And right through him, which was obviously not the plan. He should evade and turn around to his unseen attackers, but instead he didn't even flinch. He just stared down at the ridge Iri was hiding in. He summoned six thin blades from between his knuckles, three for each of his hands. And he darted forward.
He saw right through it...
Before Kirei was able to reach her, Kiritsugu broke out of his cover and let his machine-gun howl up through the night air. A barrage of bullets should have riddled the priest thrice over, but they were instead plucked out of the air right beside him. With the air wavering and twisting, the shape of a scrawny young girl formed at his side, obviously shielding him. Something Iri had already expected...
"Mögest du gebunden sein!"
Countless glowing silver strings struck up from the ground, entangling Kirei's legs and turned his speed against him. He tumbled to the ground, grunting softly as he cushioned his fall with his arms. And the living strings continued their onslaught, winding themselves around his arms and torso, tightening hard and completely immobilizing his whole body. But the girl was still charging towards her. Up until now she had likened her speed to the priest's in order to shield him, but with her Master fallen, she abridged the distance with one single leap. A small, slender blade danced through the night. A blade that would have easily sliced her to bits, if not for another gunshot to interrupt her charge. This time it came alone, it was not from Kiritsugu's automatic gun. And the bullet contained a magic powerful enough to even harm a spirit.
"Ugh...", she gasped, as she was struck.
The girl stopped in her tracks, turning towards the source of that attack. Taking a glimpse at her face beneath the messy mop of dark hair, Iri couldn't help but dread about how young she was. But it was a face of full hatred, and with that hatred she glared at Kiritsugu. The whole moment couldn't have lasted more than a second, but the girl looked back to Iri and saw that she was completely occupied controlling the strings that incapacitated Kirei. Equipped with that knowledge, she darted away. With her sword glistening through the moonlight she charged at Iri's husband. A charge that he had no way to defend himself against.
"Kiritsugu!", Iri called out in panic.
Jaime
The knight went easy on him, striking an arching backhand blow that could have cut him in half, but low enough so that he was able to bring his own sword between them in the last second. The sound of metal hitting metal echoed through the woods. The power of the strike overwhelmed Joffrey, he lost his footing and fell on his royal ass, so Jaime had him at sword point.
Come on, this was a beginner's mistake! I thought you were trained better!
He had him at his mercy and could have ended it then and there. But for some reason, his hand didn't move. He told himself it wasn't out of fear for kinslaying, considering that this wouldn't be a first, he was cursed anyway. But something bothered him about the whole situation. It simply didn't feel right. And he saw himself confirmed with that when he looked just what had made Oathkeeper ring like this. The black sword in Joffrey's hands rippled with pulsating red veins.
Don't tell me... the sword he dubbed Widow's Wail?
Jaime stepped back, a serious expression on his face. This was Ned Stark's steel. Just like the one he held in his own hands. Both magnificent blades of the kind which were meant for heroes. But instead it was held by a child full of fear. A child that he was about to murder for a pointless ritual.
I can't just cut him down like this... those swords deserve better. They deserve a true duel.
"Get up!", he ordered bluntly. "And mind your feet!"
Joffrey just stared back at him with wide eyes.
"Can't you hear me?", Jaime hissed angrily.
The boy scrambled to his feet, finally unsheathing the blade completely and clutching it desperately.
"Now let's let you honour this sword of yours", the Kingsguard promised. "You still have the chance to give me a duel to justify you being here!"
Joffrey gulped, tightening his grip even more, as if that was even possible. Jaime proceeded with his advance, slowly, with a series of high angle cuts. Joffrey used all his concentration to block them desperately. While steel and steel bit into each other, Jaime's foot leapt upwards and kicked the boy into the chest, who went down like a sack of turnips.
"You kicked me!", he protested between his coughs. "You kicked the king!"
"I usually kill kings, you might have heard of that", Jaime declared, rolling his eyes. "Be glad that I did just that! Your openings are as glaring as the gates of King's Landing during a tourney day. Get up!"
At least now he followed his instruction swiftly.
I don't get it. He's tall and well built, a lot like young me, actually. He should have all the makings to be at least a decent knight. Cersei, what did you do to him while I wasn't around?
"You... you can't harm me, you swore an oath."
"As far as I can see, that one ended with my life. Or yours, respectively", Jaime shrugged.
"I am still king. And you are my Kingsguard!", Joffrey declared angrily. "I order you to stand down!"
"What are you about to do? Order me to die?", Jaime found his attempts at negotiation weirdly amusing. "Let me teach you that, while we're at it: You can't order people to die! Given your rank, you can order them to fight and risk their lives, but you can't expect them to give it up for nothing in return. That's simply not the way it works."
The boy hissed angrily and charged forward.
Now there we go!
Jaime deflected the swings, allowing Oathkeeper to sing in the air. The ferocity of his strikes reminded him faintly of the way the Hound tended to jump into a melee, making it quite clear whom he tried to copy, but sadly he had not the brute strength to deliver them as effectively. In the end Joffrey overreached himself and Jaime managed to move easily behind Widow's Wail, sending the Valyrian Steel sword flying. The disarmed boy king then got the knight's elbow to his face, making him stumble down into the dirt once again.
"You struck me!", he complained.
"You don't say", Jaime sneered.
He looked at Widow's Wail lying in the dirt. It somehow reminded him of a broken sword he saw flying like this when he was a youth. Each time a sword broke, the shining knight with the glowing magic sword allowed his opponent to fetch a new one. If he allowed Joffrey to pick it up once again, he would finally find himself in the same shoes.
Was that what I expected to happen here? No... the picture is wrong. Back then it were the swords that were unable to keep up with the prowess of those knights. Right here, it is only the boy who can't keep up with his sword.
He realized that no matter how many chances he gave the boy the result would always be the same. He sighed.
"I wanted you to die with a sword in hand, but from this point on any more toying would be just cruel", he pointed towards Widow's Wail. "One last bout. Pick it up!"
Instead Joffrey crawled backwards like a golden bug that was put on his back.
"You can't do that, uncle Jaime!"
"So now I'm your uncle again, am I?"
He readied Oathkeeper, but it still felt wrong. Joffrey looked like the terrified boy he was, barely a man grown. He may have never cared about Joffrey, but he was still of his own blood. Even more than the boy knew.
Damn, why am I hesitating so much? He attacked us! Just because he went down as if he wasn't even trying?
"Bloody Grail War", he cursed, grabbing the whimpering boy at his neck and preparing himself to slit his throat as swift as possible. With Valyrian Steel being as sharp as it is, it should be possible to make it comparably painless.
"A Grail War you already lost, fool", Joffrey then hissed, apparently still having a little impertinence left.
It was enough to stop Jaime for a second.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, by now your stupid Master is surely already dead!"
Jaime gave a dark chuckle.
"If your Master thinks he can mess with mine, he will find a dark surprise.
Joffrey stared back defiantly.
"I'm not talking about useless Tohsaka. I'm talking about the wolf girl!"
"Wolf girl?", for a moment he thought Joffrey was lying through his teeth to save his skin. But that would have been not a very good lie. It only slowly dawned upon him who exactly he meant by that. "You can't mean..."
His answer was a cocksure grin. Frustrated, Jaime hammered his face in with the pommel of sword and left him there. There was no time for him left to finish him off. He had to run at full speed if he hoped to rescue Iri and Kiritsugu. Because they were already under attack by a Servant...
Irisviel
Iri's heart had stopped the moment she realized that the Servant was going for Kiritsugu first. This was Assassin, the weakest of the seven. It was the only one who could slip through her Boundary Field completely unnoticed. A skilled enough mage could have managed to harm her, her bird familiars might even be enough and surely Kiritsugu's precious bullets made of his own pulverized bones were able to cause some damage. But apparently even Assassin was too powerful to be defeated by anyone not being another Heroic Spirit. So when Assassin decided to charge for her husband, she already imagined the worst. Kiritsugu, the Master of the Einzberns and Ilya's sole hope to not share her mother's fate, would now be cut down by a Servant.
The scraping sound of metal echoed through the woods. It was enough to send a shiver through Iri's spine. She barely managed to watch what happened, but still forced herself to look.
"What? How?", she gasped, now a wave of relieve went through her body as well, throwing her into utter confusion.
A silver knight with a billowing white cape had appeared between Assassin and her prey in the last moment, barely able to deflect the attack.
Ser Jaime!
Assassin backed away a little, keeping some distance between herself and the dark sword of her opponent. The girl who seemed unstoppable only a second ago now looked frail and hopelessly outmatched against the heavily armored knight. And yet Jaime didn't use the opportunity to strike through her meagre defence and end it immediately. He just stood there, breathing heavily, and yet it wasn't just his flight to Kiritsugu's rescue that had left him speechless. It was the girl itself as he looked at her with both astonishment and horror.
"You are Arya Stark", he just whispered, completely frozen by the realization.
The girl's eyes narrowed, but her attention was still drawn more to the unsheathed sword than to his words. After a quick assessment of her situation, she retreated back towards her Master.
"No, wait!", Jaime called out without success, making a feeble attempt at blocking her way.
The girl turned around and became a barely visible whirl, rushing over her Master and cutting Iri's strings in one single motion. She didn't stop there. Without waiting for Kirei to recover, she sprinted onwards, directly towards Iri herself, following the trail of strings that lead towards her hands. The intent to kill was clearly glowing within her dark grey eyes. Facing such danger, Iri instinctively pulled on her remaining strings, forming a new construct to defend herself.
"Form ist Le-", long before she could finish the spell, the girl crashed into her with the impact of a speeding car.
"Iri!", Kiritsugu's agonizing scream brushed past her ear as she went down.
A sharp pain went through her belly, one that increased in intensity as the girl stepped back and rushed away, out of her view. She didn't remember hitting the ground, but she did remember the odd feeling of both coldness and heat intermingling in her chest, making it a very confusing experience. She tried to reach for its source with her right hand, but nearly fainted from the agony it caused. Her hand felt warm and wet. Iri watched the red fluid that got on it with horror. It was too much blood, far too much.
Not yet, she thought with horror. I can't die right now. I still have to...
She tried to fight it off, she tried to remember some self-healing spells, but even thinking became a bother. She felt tired, her strength was fading.
Kiritsugu...
without...
he can't...
Ilya...