Matou Shinji and the Price of Victory
A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story
Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.
Summary: It is a dark time for Matou Shinji. Though his performance at the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship was certainly impressive, his achievement was not without cost, as his actions in publicly using the Killing Curse, acting as a spy for Durmstrang, and otherwise defying British Law have finally caught up with him. On the cusp of being outmaneuvered by the authorities, the lone rebel bargains for a last-minute reprieve, gambling his life and freedom on hope of singlehandedly facing down the forces of an invading army. Yet, in the coming conflict, the boy who calls himself Matou Shinji will soon learn that the line between friend and foe very easily blurs, and that even victory carries a hefty price.
Chapter 10. High Command
As the being who called itself Matou Shinji looked out upon the streets of London in the strange half-light before dawn, he found himself thinking back to what he could remember of his past life. Of the life he'd lived prior to dying on the Isle of Thule while fighting – and killing – the avatar of an Outer God, prior to being reborn as…the mishmash of things that he was now.
It wasn't the easiest thing in the world, given how fuzzy those memories were, something that, as he understood it, was related to the erosion of his human soul by the Outer God's filth and the traumatic process of death and reconstruction. Still, a few moments shone through the mist and the mire, mostly those which had made him who he was.
Moments such as getting his Hogwarts letter, seeing Mahoutokoro for the first time, meeting Sokaris. Moments like the Acromantula fight, the labyrinth of Thule, and the final clash with the abomination to reality Stukov had become. Moments like his vow to Sokaris, and how even if the world became her enemy, he would be her ally – and of course, the lengths to which he had gone to keep that vow, frantically shifting his focus and defeating his best friend so he could qualify for the Potions Championship, defying – and being cast out of – his family (a family that he'd longed for a place in since he could remember), dealing with the false visions of the Trial of Courage…
…and dying.
Everything important – everything good – in his life had come about because of his interactions with Sokaris, with the boy having trouble no trouble imagining what things would have been like if he hadn't gone to Hogwarts, hadn't met her. No doubt he would have become twisted by bitterness and resentment, until one day he broke entirely, becoming a monster that merely wore a human's flesh.
'Like grandfather,' he thought, with only a touch of irony. 'Only I wouldn't have had the power he does or the command over thaumaturgy. I'd be a monster limited to very human cruelties, who couldn't see past his need to be recognized.'
He imagined he might have ended up tormenting…the girl who had taken his place, taking solace in various ways of making her suffer as she had made him suffer, because there was no way he would have been able to stand up to Matou Zouken.
'Pathetic. Such a self, such a thing…a fate worse than death. Clinging to existence as a powerless corpse just pretending to be alive, unable to change it's fate…'
Whatever else he was now, Matou Shinji could at least rest easy in the fact that he was not weak, that even with all the complications of his rebirth – or creation, if one was to accept the premise that he was but a golem with draconic flavoring, he had the power to choose what he would become, who he would become – what he would do.
'Yet is that even really a choice? All that Matou Shinji became in his life was because of Sokaris, because of his drive to be worthy of standing by her side, because of the promise he made her.' He could choose to strike out on his own, he supposed, but the thought of living with Sokaris was anathema, for without her, without the direction that she gave him, all his strength would avail him not. 'True, I have power, but what is power without wisdom, without purpose?'
There was an easy answer to that, whose name was Matou Zouken, a once great archmagus who, before the Einzbern slew him, had degenerated into nothing but a monster, a wretch who for all his power, had no direction, no greater purpose for existence except existing.
He had power now, in this form of his, commanding the strength of fire and earth as easily as he drew breath, like the great dragons of old, but as his grandfather had proved, power alone was meaningless if he had nothing to live for beyond the momentary desires of the flesh. Or, if he was to use an example that wasn't dead, there was Tohsaka, he supposed, an Average One who allowed her base desires to mar her true potential…and had almost pulled him down into degeneracy with her.
'If it were not for Mashu, I probably would have succumbed to the temptation Tohsaka presented, taking advantage of her offer to let me do whatever I wanted to her, given that owning her, taking her, would certainly be a way to show how far I'd come from what I was.' And yet in doing so, in reveling in his strength, by drowning the illicit, meaningless pleasure Tohsaka offered, he would have proven that he lacked any restraint whatsoever, making him forever unworthy of standing by her side. 'My former self almost failed the Trial of Courage because of Tohsaka, and here I was, following in his footsteps, about to plummet from the precipice if Mashu had not caught me.'
He had to be better. Had to be, for his sake, for Sokaris' sake. For the sake of his oaths and obligations, because otherwise, what had he cast everything aside for?
The boy sighed as he looked down at his left hand, which held in its grip a vial full of a pale blue liquid, a potion which would help suppress his base desires, allowing him to think more rationally even when confronted with temptation. It was…unfortunate that he needed to resort to such a thing to keep his mind clear and focused, but reality was what it was. This wasn't some badly-written story where he would magically change from one day to the next, without any sort of effort, simply because he wanted to.
Change was slow. It was hard. It was painful – or could be, and yet it was worth it, or would be in the end.
'Just like what's happening with Britain.'
With the headache of the previous day so recently behind him, Matou Shinji thought that it would be best if he took a day for himself, a day without Tohsaka or Emilia or any other subordinates to deal with, without carrying all the burdens that he was normally asked to bear.
'I guess it wouldn't hurt to take closer look at how things are in Magical London without having…distractions about.'
Distractions like Emilia's bountiful chest or Tohsaka's shapely legs, which he did admittedly notice, though he tried to be discreet about it. There was no harm in merely looking, after all, or he'd told himself.
The traditional garb of practitioners of witchcraft, thankfully, was far less revealing, less…stimulating in that way (though the garish colors and fashions they used were stimulating in many less pleasant ways), and so he imagined being among them, after yesterday would be a nice rest for his mind.
This time, as he headed in, he didn't employ the services of Jeeves, as he didn't feel like drawing attention to himself. Well, beyond whatever attention his disguise already drew from onlookers, though at least that wasn't because they recognized him – not for the most part. Not that he overheard anyone commenting on the oddness of his clothing, given that there were more interesting sights to be seen, with foreigners in quite a few different outfits among them.
Some wore clothes similar to his, almost as if it was a uniform of sorts, and they nodded to him, as if recognizing one of their own. Some wore hooded robes whose cut and stylings of the Stone Cutters' garb, and that like the shopkeeper from the day before, had featured red sashes and utility belts. Some wore…very minimal outfits, with barely enough fabric to maintain modesty, things that would be more appropriate on a beach than the capital.
And that was without even looking at the natives, as there were goblins in highly polished armor patrolling the streets next to those equipped with things that looked almost like spider legs, some leprechauns in green formalwear, and some…rather attractive witches wearing rather revealing garb as they stood at the intersection of the alleys, mentioning something about a good time.
'Busier than I expected, really. I wonder if something is about to happen...' he thought to himself.
The scars of the Battle of London were still very evident, with many of Diagon Alley's more famous shops having been reduced to rubble or charred husks, with goblin work crews hard at work clearing the sites, as most of the damage had come from Fiendfyre or other dark magics, and so could not be magically repaired.
Even for those where repair might have been possible, the owners and proprietors were generally dead, having been slain in the first few minutes of that terrible struggle, during which the Ministry had done nothing, allowing the people of London to be slaughtered before Lockhart and the goblins had intervened. And with no one clamoring for the shops to be rebuilt, it was far easier to clear everything away and build something new, something lasting, while the opportunity existed. Something that would endure whatever came its way…
'A visual metaphor for what Lockhart is doing with Britain as a whole, building something new, something lasting, with goblins and humans working together…'
In the meantime, instead of well-known shops, there were a great many carts run by those with entrepreneurial leanings, filling the demand for food, entertainment, and even reasonably priced premade wares (as opposed to Vertic, which was slightly more upscale and took commissions). Treats like ice cream, butterbeer, and soft pretzels could be found, as well as more exotic things like shaved ice, Italian soda, and…was that stand selling curry and vegetable tempura, and the one next to it…ramen?!
'Quite a line for those, too…'
In terms of more filling foods, one of the carts was selling what seemed like karaage, along with potato wedges fried a perfect golden brown. Another sold crepes, with an assortment of fillings and toppings, and seemed very popular with the younger crowd. One of the carts was even selling something it called Falafel sandwiches, whatever those were, with quite a crowd made up mostly of the people in the hooded robes.
Seeing these sights, hearing the buzz of the crowd, smelling the wonderful scents of baked and fried foods, mingled with the aroma of soup that had been simmered for days on end, made him rather nostalgic, with the boy finding his feet taking him towards the ramen stall, which seemed to be run by a metamorphmagus, or at least someone with green hair.
…though being a metamorphmagus alone wouldn't have explained how she greeted him in perfect Japanese.
"…you're not Emilia, are you?" Shinji asked carefully, glancing up at the menu.
"I am nyat!" the other replied. "Miss Akashi, at your service."
"Ah. Nines," he answered, thinking it only polite to respond with his alias.
"I have hosted Miss Emilia for lunch," the proprietor continued. "She comes by often, always having the Kamibuta special."
"Kami…buta?" Shinji parsed. "As in sea pig? Or…"
"That's right, nya!" the green-haired, golden-eyed attendant said cheerfully. "Best pork ramen in Yokosuka!"
"…Yokosuka as in the naval base?"
"That's right!" the waitress said, nodding happily.
"I see. Well, if Emilia is fond of it, it must be good," the boy reasoned. While the tanuki had many faults, having bad taste in food wasn't one of them. "One Kamibuta special, if you don't mind," Shinji requested, eager for a large helping of something familiar.
"Coming right up, nya!" With a perhaps unnecessary flourish or two, Miss Akashi proceeded to prepare his order, quickly putting together a serious bowl of thick, floury noodles and rich, garlic and sesame laden broth, topped thick slices of tender pork loin that looked like they'd just melt in his mouth, a poached egg, and a veritable mountain of stir-fried cabbage and bean sprouts. "Enjoy, nya!" she said, only a minute or so later.
And enjoy he did, as the results of Hogwarts cooking – or his own – was very much inferior to what he could credibly say was probably the best ramen in Yokosuka. Maybe even the best in London.
He said as much to the shopkeeper, once he'd finished slurping down the noodles with relish, with the young woman nodding.
"Always happy to hear that from a customer!" she said, bowing as the boy left a rather generous tip, more than the usual for London. "Come by again!"
With his belly full and his body feeling nice and warm from the meal, he certainly intended to do so.
Having satisfied his immediate needs, Shinji proceeded to stroll around a bit, soaking in the atmosphere of Magical London, paying special attention to how the foreigners and natives were interacting, as well as how the practitioners of witchcraft were treating the non-human creatures in their presence. Interestingly, everyone seemed friendly enough, with people and creatures giving each other small, but respectful nods. 'In the old Britain, people would have been suspicious of a stranger. Right now, though...? They don't seem to mind foreigners much.'
He supposed it was logical that Lockhart might have hired mercenaries to boost Albion's ranks, or to invite displaced wizards to Britain to replace the portion of the population that had died off in the various catastrophes Britain had suffered lately, but it was odd that they were being treated to well.
Or maybe it wasn't that odd – perhaps people were just placing their faith in Lockhart, since he had saved them, not only standing against a seemingly implacable enemy, but winning. In the people's eyes, he was a hero, one who could do no wrong…
'That's…almost frightening how much they trust him. But if that is what is going on, I guess the covers I came up with for Tohsaka and myself won't seem so unusual,' he mused, as his footsteps took him to the government building, to find that it too was bustling today, with several well-armored goblins guarding both the doors, and the checkpoint that led further into the building.
To his mind, they looked nothing so much as Knights – if knights carried wands, anyway.
"Wand, please," one said to him as he came to the checkpoint, with Shinji handing over his kodama wood and chimera scale wand. The wand was placed on a specialized scale, with the goblins stiffening slightly as the results were returned.
"Ah. You. You wear a different form," the head goblin on duty observed quietly.
"I do, but shouldn't you already know that?" the boy asked, raising an eyebrow. "I was just here yesterday."
"Ah, apologies. We were not on duty then," the goblin replied.
"No matter," Shinji noted, nodding. "I'm sure I'll be here often enough for you all to recognize who I am, no matter what form I wear."
"Mm," the head goblin murmured. "Your business?"
Huh…right. What was he…
"The Wizard-Marshal," Shinji stated. "I wanted to speak with him regarding my orders."
There was a moment of silence as the goblin cocked his head, seeming almost like he was listening to something, before he was waved on through the machine.
"You will find his office in the atrium," the security officer said deferentially. "He is expecting you. You know the way?"
"Ah...yes," Shinji answered. "Second stairs to my right, and then straight on after?"
"That's right," came the reply, as the boy collected his items and proceeded to follow the goblin's instructions, eventually emerging into the rather spacious atrium of a sort he'd visited yesterday. What he hadn't quite noticed then, given that he'd been distracted by his business with Miss Suoirsulli, was that there was a ring of offices around it, each guarded by a number of goblins.
'I wonder if the offices match their seats on the Round Table,' he thought, trying to remember if the Wizard-Marshal had an assigned seat at the table, and if so, which one. It wasn't as if knew how to orient himself in this place…
Even in his distraction, however, he managed to keep from running into the First Citizen's Secretary, with the stunning young woman once more being clad in an ensemble of white and gold and blue, with blue flowers woven into her white-blonde hair.
"Miss Suoirsulli," he greeted with a bow.
"Hullo," she replied with an elegant curtsey. "You seem to be having some trouble."
"Well, yes."
"You are here to see the Wizard Marshal, yes?"
"...how did you know, Miss...?" Shinji asked, rather taken aback. Of all the offices here, how would she know which one he was to be visiting? He hadn't seen any of her familiars, unless…she could make them invisible? 'Huh. I didn't think of that.'
"If you must know, I heard it from the goblin at the checkpoint," Miss Suoirsulli answered, her voice rather delicate, though Shinji was not fooled.
"Ah," Shinji uttered. That made sense - he supposed they would have some system of communication. Though... "But why is the First Citizen's secretary coming to meet me, and not the Wizard-Marshal's?"
"Because the poor man doesn't have a secretary yet," the young woman said with a dainty laugh, which Shinji found quite alluring indeed. "Come, this way."
She guided him to the office he was looking for, nodding to the goblins, who stepped aside. Before she could knock, the door swung open, with none other than Tomas Peverell emerging from it, dressed in rather severe black robes.
"Good. You're here," the man said. "Thank you for fetching him, Miss Suoirtsulli."
"It was no trouble," she replied, before nodding and heading off.
Tomas watched her go for a moment, before stepping back into the room, gesturing for Shinji to follow. He did, following the man into a rather spacious office with a rather good amount of a natural light, with a view of the outside that came through a rather clever system of mirrors. The space was well appointed, too, with comfortable, if utilitarian-seeming furniture, and maps on the wall that gave it a very businesslike feel.
More importantly though, he wasn't alone, as there was an armored goblin already present and seated, looking at him curiously as Tomas closed the door.
"Before we begin, let's have a round of introductions, shall we?" the automaton asked. "You know me, of course, but I don't think you've met Mudbutton here." The goblin shook his head. "Right, since we're all friends here, would you mind dropping your disguise for a moment?"
Shinji grumbled, but did so, as it was not wise to disobey a superior officer unless one had a very good reason for doing so.
"Mudbutton, this is Matou Shinji, of the Albion Home Guard," Tomas said by way of introduction. "Matou, Mudbutton, former King of the Goblins, and a Spectre - a Field Commander - in Albion's Liberation Force."
"Ah...the Hero of the Ministry," Mudbutton noted, nodding slightly. "I have heard of you."
"Only good things, I'm sure," Shinji answered, to which the goblin frowned.
"For the purpose of the upcoming operation at WADA, Mister Matou here will be operating under an alias. Nines, I believe it was?"
"...that's right," Shinji agreed. So far, things didn't seem to be going poorly.
"Now that we know each other, please, have a seat," Tomas requested, with the boy settling down into one of the other chairs about. "Excellent. Your timing is fortuitous, Mister Matou, as we were just talking about you."
"O-oh really?" the boy asked, trying and failing to keep curiosity and nervousness from his voice.
"Yes," the automaton confirmed. "For the upcoming mission, you and your squad will be attached to Mudbutton's forces at WADA. However, while the larger force focuses on protecting the school as a whole, you have a separate objective involving the protection and extraction of Miss Granger, a valuable propaganda asset for us. While Mudbutton has done an admirable job dealing with the remnants of the shattered army, and any ferals that have emerged sense, our concern is that the Ministry, seeing the progress we have been making and the favor we have been gaining, may send forces to the south to embarrass us."
"They will not capture WADA on my watch," the goblin said grimly. "And you have already briefed me on this possibility."
"Indeed, but I have not briefed 'Nines'," Tomas answered. "In any case, the First Citizen and I are not as concerned with the Ministry making a push for territory, or an outright assault as much as...a quiet extraction op of their own."
"...you think they want Hermione?" Shinji asked. "But why?"
"In case you are unaware, Miss Granger is one of the rising stars of this generation, and almost a household name as far as actresses go."
"What." The boy's voice was flat. "You…you're joking."
"I rarely joke about such things, Mister Matou. She may be a minor star compared to others you know, but in Magical Britain, she is a celebrity, known for her depiction of Sokaris in the Cornerstone production, among other tragic heroines."
"Huh. I…see."
"Then you also see how having her work for us would be quite a boon, much as her falling into the hands of the Ministry would be unhelpful, yes?"
"I suppose, but, is she really that important in the grand scheme of things?"
Mudbutton smiled, his expression full of teeth.
"So I am told. Perhaps she will even help wizards will be comfortable around Goblins, given that until the Intervention, we were seen as treacherous and dangerous," he said, none too pleasantly. "Or vice-versa, as we have mostly known wizards to be untrustworthy beings, who in turns fear us and covet the things we make. Oathbreakers and the like."
"…yet you call Lockhart Oathkeeper?"
"You know of that, do you?" Mudbutton asked appraisingly, raising an eyebrow. "Well, the First Citizen is…different. He has proven his intent in what he has done, rather than being a being of words alone, unlike most…wizards. Still, what he proposes, what he seeks to accomplish, it won't be easy…"
Shinji had the distinct impression that the former Goblin King had been about to say something else, something rather less polite, but didn't point it out, demonstrating that he did have something of a self-preservation instinct.
"It will take work, certainly," Tomas acknowledged, "But if you didn't believe it was possible, you wouldn't have abdicated, would you?"
"...fair point."
"In any case, 'Nines', your plan?"
Put on the spot as he was, Shinji went through what he has in mind for the operation involving Miss Granger. For the duration of the mission, he and Rin would pose as mercenaries hired to protect a number of orphans who would be hosted at WADA, with Emilia presumably already hidden among the orphans. Hermione, as a muggleborn, would be assigned to help watch the children (many of them being muggleborns) while their fate is being determined, with Shinji and Rin using the children as an excuse to be near Miss Granger, so to provide a ready source of protection at all times.
"A decent plan, though I have one question."
"Yes?"
"You mentioned you wanted to be ready to protect her at all times. How do you plan on arranging your shifts to accommodate that, seeing that in this plan, Emilia is operating on her own, leaving you with only yourself and Miss Tohsaka? Two people is not usually sufficient to cover a 24-hour period…unless you expect Spectre Mudbotton to provide you with assistance?"
Shinji smiled wanly.
"I do have a number of advantages over a normal human," the boy remarked. "Among them items I retrieved from the isle." He sighed. "Still, you might have a point. I don't suppose you could let me look at the dossier you have on Miss Granger? Just so I can see if what I have planned is viable?"
"Not an unexpected request," Tomas noted, sliding a folder over to the boy. "Here you go – a dossier containing her general schedule, photos, preferences, and more."
"I do know what she looks like."
"You'd be surprised what a little makeup and a change in hairstyle can do to one's assumptions, wouldn't you, Nines?"
"...point taken."
Hermione Granger
Human Witch, Age 15
Gilderoy Lockhart Scholar, Wizarding Academy of the Dramatic Arts
Summary: With the exception of individuals such as the Boy-Who-Lived or the First Citizen of Albion, Miss Granger is one of the most well-known figures in all of Magical Britain, having been catapulted to fame for her role as Sialim Sokaris in the critically acclaimed Cornerstones. Since leaving Hogwarts and enrolling in the Wizarding Academy of the Dramatic Arts as the first Muggleborn Gilderoy Lockhart Scholar (and indeed, the first Muggleborn to attend WADA in the history of the institution), she has taken the theatrical world of Magical Britain by storm, with her talent and passion for sharing the stories she loves with the magical world bringing her a remarkable degree of success.
In a more peaceful time, it is possible that Miss Granger's career might have stalled, going the way of most WADA students in a society that isn't truly large enough for an organic performing arts scene (with its graduates often finding themselves unemployed, as they lack both the connections of those who attended Hogwarts, or a credential from an ICW-certified school that allows them to work abroad). In the wake of the Quidditch World Cup, however, things changed significantly, with WADA receiving official patronage from the Ministry for the first time in its existence, with the Ministry not only commissioning plays, but paying for renovation and expansion of the campus, giving WADA airtime on the few remaining radio stations, and more. In short, WADA was made a critical part of the Office of Information's propaganda machine.
In this new environment, where theatre was state-sponsored , Miss Granger came into her own, with her connections to Hogwarts and the various people portrayed in Cornerstones helping her to secure the role that would propel her to national fame. Today, it would not be an exaggeration to call her a household name, having a level of influence usually only wielded by well-known Muggle celebrities. Her endorsement of Albion and its message would mean much for our cause, and given her relationship with the First Citizen, that she will do so is not unlikely. However, the Ministry is no doubt aware of this, and has likely made the retrieval (or elimination) of Miss Granger and any other WADA students they can manage, as losing them - or having them endorse our enemies - would be a significant blow to the cause of Albion.
Other Threats: Aside from any personal threat to Miss Granger's safety, one should not disregard the possibility of a Ministry-sanctioned strike against WADA and its facilities, particularly by deniable forces (See: Death Eaters; Status of Azkaban should be ascertained ASAP), as Albion failing to protect an asset in London (if not in Wizarding London) after condemning the Ministry for being unable to do the same could be catastrophic. Force under Spectre Mudbutton has been deployed to protect WADA, students and facilities, pending relief by Homeguard units.
Current abilities:
Wand Skills: Though Miss Granger left Hogwarts, she has continued to keep up with certain parts of her magical education thanks to tutors that were made available to some of the more promising students. She has achieved an OWLs in History of Magic and Charms.
Acting: Miss Granger is one of the few WADA students who has been trained for the stage as well as for radio, thanks to the Ministry's intensive development of the arts in Britain.
Playwriting: Currently she is working on this, with a focus on converting Muggle stories for Magical consumption.
Connections:
Current Role Models: Gilderoy Lockhart
Current Affiliations: Order of Merlin (3rd Class), Gilderoy Lockhart Scholar
Possessions: Wand (Vine + dragon heartstring), Clothing (assorted), Books (Various - Shakespeare, Epic of Makar Zolgen, etc), Gringotts account ($$$)
Schedule (based on observations, subject to change - especially once assigned as guide to orphans):
5 am - Wake Up
5 am - 6 am - Morning Walk
6 am - 8 am - Breakfast and Free Time
8 am - 11 am - Classes (Movement, Voice, Acting)
11 am - 12 pm - Lunch (sometimes meetings)
12 pm - 5 pm - Free time / Production meetings
5 pm - 6 pm - Dinner
6 pm - 10 pm - Rehearsals / Private tutoring / Playwriting
10 pm - 11 pm - Free Time
11 pm - 5 am - Sleep
Schedule is subject to change once children arrive at WADA.
After perusing the dossier, Shinji paused, taking a moment to lay out his thoughts as to the shift schedules for himself and Tohsaka, and when protection would be most necessary for Miss Granger. He didn't think she'd be particularly vulnerable during Rehearsals or Classes, as others would be there, and while she slept, it would be a simple enough matter to post a guard, but her morning walk concerned him.
He'd have to be careful about that, though...
"I think that given her schedule, we should be able to protect her effectively, even if we only have two people," he noted. "But what do you think?" he asked, turning to the two superior officers in the room, one of whom had once been the Goblin King (though how that worked Shinji had no idea). "Does it sound...workable?"
"I see no fundamental objections," Mudbutton noted, though there was a moment of hesitation that made Shinji uncomfortable. "So long as you believe you and Miss Tohsaka have the skill and experience to handle this assignment. You come...highly recommended for your work providing...close personal protection to the Delacour girl." The elegantly dressed goblin peered at him closely. "Is your...partner as...ah, experienced?"
"Ah...no," the boy admitted uneasily, as the eyes of the former Goblin King bore into him. "It's...ah, her first time."
"I...see."
"...look, we all start somewhere," he said defensively, feeling almost like his position was in jeopardy. "And Emilia, at least is very experienced." He paused. "At her role, I mean."
"That is good and well, Matou," Tomas interjected. "But Emilia's experience is not what is in question. At the end of the day, our concern is that as talented as Miss Tohsaka may be, a lack of experience tends to lead to...mistakes. And a mistake, should the worst come to pass, could well cost Miss Granger her life. Do you understand this?"
"I...yes," the boy replied firmly. "I do."
"Hm. You are...confident, at least, though time will tell if it is justified," Mudbutton noted. "Will you be requiring any support from my forces for your mission?"
"Not directly. Probably. Not in terms of personnel, at least," Shinji answered, finding himself on more solid footing. "Though I would ask…would it be possible for you to give Tohsaka a solid grounding on the basics of combat in...this world?"
"What." Mudbutton, for all his experience, could not keep a look of shock from his face. "What do you mean a grounding? You said you were confident in a girl child who has no inkling of what combat means? Do I understand you correctly, Mister Matou?"
"No...she knows how to fight, and can be very dangerous, but...she isn't as familiar with the threats we are to face. She trained elsewhere."
"Elsewhere?"
"In Japan."
Mudbutton grunted.
"I see. So not a complete newbie, just inexperienced at this type of work, in this environment," the former royal asked, seemingly mollified.
"Yes."
"I…suppose we can provide her some training, then," the goblin responded. "We will be running a number of exercises anyway, and it would not be difficult to add someone else to these, especially as we will be using something based on the Book of Spells for that purpose." He sighed. "Is there anything else we can provide to assist with your mission?"
Shinji was silent as he considered this. If not training, then some material aid wouldn't be unwarranted, mostly in the form of ingredients he could use to brew things like healing potions, invisibility potions, and the like. Perhaps even some sort of communication device to allow him to talk with Tohsaka remotely?
He said as much, with Mudbutton nodding, looking marginally less displeased.
"Aye, we can do that," the goblin replied. "Just one question?"
"Yes?"
"How did you survive the battle of the Ministry?"
Shinji laughed quietly, shaking his head.
"How, you ask?" he echoed, a slight smile stealing across his face even as scales took the place of skin, and once grey eyes turned gold. "By becoming more than merely human."
"…and how did you manage that?"
"By keeping my word," the boy stated simply, almost daring the former goblin king to call him a liar.
"…what did it cost?" Mudbutton asked instead.
"Everything," Shinji said gravely, shaking his head. "Everything I used to be."
"Do you regret the choices you made?"
"No."
"Not at all?" Mudbutton questioned, curious now.
"If I had not chosen what I did, I would have betrayed my oath, and if I cannot keep that, then I am nothing."
"Spoken like a goblin," the Spectre responded, a touch more respect in his voice than before. The goblin nodded to himself, before changing the topic. "Back on the topic of your mission, there is one more thing that needs to be discussed?"
"Yes?"
"Accommodations."
"I didn't think that would be an issue, since there are only two of us…" Shinji said, furrowing his brow.
"It isn't an issue, exactly, but where you will live is something that should be worked out," the Spectre corrected. "Given your independent command, I have provisionally secured a room for you and your squadmate. Formerly that of a professor, it is decently spacious, with an attached bathroom, though of course, as a room meant for one person, there is but one bed."
"Only one bed…?" the boy echoed, feeling somewhat uneasy about the notion. He'd almost done something…very foolish last night, and now this…this was being offered to him.
"Yes, but as you will staggering shifts, it is a moot point," the goblin noted. "I could have housed you in the communal dorm we appropriated as barracks for our platoon, but as I had thought you human, with human needs, I had assumed you would appreciate some…privacy, yes?"
Privacy, huh?
"That's very kind of you, but I will have to decline," Shinji responded. He was quite aware of his own weakness to Tohsaka, and spending time in a room alone with her was not conducive for his sanity – or restraint. "The barracks will do. We are all members of Albion, aren't we? It would not do for me to get special treatment because of my race. Well, former race."
"Good to see you actually believe in Albion's cause," the goblin said, seeming to approve of his decision. "I won't pretend it will be easy, but when have the worthwhile things been easy?"
"A good question," Tomas stated. "Now, Matou, is there anything else you wanted or needed to know? Or will that be all?"
Having been raised as a magus, Matou Shinji knew full well the value of knowledge. And so, when he was presented with the chance to ask what he would of someone as prominent as the former Goblin King, the boy decided to take full advantage of it. The Wizar—Tomas, he could talk to at any time, but how often did he have a chance to simply ask anything of as major a figure as Mudbutton seemed to be?
"There is something, actually," the boy who called himself Matou Shinji stated. "But that depends on whether you have a dedicated potioneer attached to your squad."
"We do not in fact," Mudbutton replied, crossing his arms. "Potioneers are in rare supply, given the predilections of most...wizards."
"Then perhaps something I can do for you, if you are willing to answer a question of mine."
"I am listening," the Spectre noted, though he wasn't committing to anything quite yet.
"How would you like it if, for the duration of the time I am at WADA, I put my abilities as a potioneer at your disposal?"
"Admittedly, it would not be a...terrible thing," the goblin acknowledged. "Ask your questions then."
The boy took a deep breath.
"My question relates to the past," he said, with Mudbutton grunting as he nodded. "Do your people remember an...old conflict between humans who used witchcraft?" he asked, recalling what the trees had mentioned about the British fighting a terrible war with one another, with the end result being the departure of the spirits of nature from the isle.
"How long ago?"
"Hundreds of years?" Shinji hazarded. "Probably before the Statute. Maybe just after the Killing Curse was invented."
The former goblin king scowled.
"Ah, you speak of the old days – those before our defeat at the hands of the Last Alliance," he muttered. "It is not a time we remember well, nor one our written records cover."
"...you have no records that go back that far?" Shinji hazarded, blinking. He found that quite unusual, really, given that they should have...something, if only to preserve their knowledge of crafting.
"We have some," the Goblin King noted grudgingly. "A few inscriptions in metal. A few secrets left behind concerning what the Artificers, the greatest of our kind, uncovered, with us seeking to re-create or improve on them, but that is all."
"Artificers?" Shinji questioned. "The First Citizen mentioned them as paragons of your race, who invented things like goblin silver."
"Yes. They are those who forge the path, the great ones of our kind, who create great and terrible thing. Yet they are few and rare, and not always…particularly skilled at leadership," Mudbutton shook his head. "Hence the Kings, who lead, and the Shamans above them, the wise keepers of our ancient lore."
" Shamans...?" The boy narrowed his eyes, as he remembered well how powerful a shaman could be from his interactions with Ramona on the island. Yet, he'd never heard of goblins having Shamans before, or of them existing in Britain at all.
"Those who were most gifted, who spoke to the spirits and kept our lore, passing it from master to apprentice."
"...passing how?"
"The stories say they used spirit and memory, but that was long ago. There are no more shamans among my people."
"Why? What happened?"
"The wretched Elves killed them in the war that led to us becoming...like this, at the behest of the diminished Wizards' Council. We have lost much because of the elves and their arrogance. And because of men and their treachery."
"By becoming like this..." Shinji noted, narrowing his eyes. "Do you mean, looking like you do now?"
"No," came the instant reply. "We have always looked thus. But after the war, one started by men, and finished by the elves, may they suffer forever in their blighted forms, we were...diminished, our people robbed of their dignity, of our birthright by men who knew not the meanest of the arts of the forge, who understood nothing of the deeper mysteries, who hated and feared us." The former goblin king bared his teeth. "They took our history from us. Our birthright. The magics of earth and wind and fire we had learned. Let us live only because they coveted the beautiful things we could make." But then his expression shifted, with his snarl shifting into a rather nasty smile, full of wickedly sharp teeth. "Even so, at least the trusting, foolish elves suffered more in the end, when those who begged for their protection turned them into slaves."
"By elves...you...you don't mean…the house elves?" the boy asked, taken aback. It was true that he'd found armor fit for a house elf before, and that he speculated that humans had subjugated them, but to have it confirmed...
"Yes. The Elves, that most wretched of races," Mudbutton replied. "Who stood with men, and never even realized that they could be – would be – betrayed by flatterers and peddlers of lies."
"You hate them," Shinji realized. "Even with what they've become, you hate them."
"Yes," the Spectre agreed. "But not more than I pity them," he noted, closing his eyes. "In short, I cannot tell you of the time before the War. Our people do not remember it. Ask another question."
Shinji blinked.
"...how about a question of the future?" he asked.
"I am no Seer, but I will answer if I can," Mudbutton answered, face looking as if it had been carved out of stone.
"Well, how do I put this..." the boy temporized, frowning, as he tried to phrase his query in a way that made sense and wasn't offensive, since he was not the best with money matters. "What do you see as the future of Albion in terms of...money and all? And this whole Goblin corporation business..."
Mudbutton grunted.
"Worried about your pay?" he asked pointedly.
"...not just that, but yes," Shinji admitted, thinking that honesty probably went over better with the goblins as opposed to pretty words, especially with how he had described most humans. "I've traveled to different places in the world, as you know, and I can't help but think that...things won't last as they are in Britain. Not with the odd currency, and everything else going on."
"You're not wrong," Mudbutton replied. "Even before things got...worse after the Quidditch Cup Incident, the economy of Magical Britain was in a bad spot. After, when the Ministry nationalized things and made money almost worthless, well..."
"Ah..."
"I am no financier. I am no banker. I was a King, chosen because I was the best crafter of my people – save for the Artificer, of course," the goblin growled. "Even so, I can see how this isolated state of things is...not good, and even when it wasn't, the oddness of Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons did not help commerce."
Shinji himself could see that much – when there were 29 Knuts in one Sickle, and 17 Sickles in a Galleon, the math wasn't at all simple for either business owners or customers.
"So, currency reform, then?" he asked. "A New Galleon or something."
"Possibly, if properly decimalized," Mudbutton confirmed. "There are some other possibilities under consideration, with one of the most ambitious being a unified currency for Magical Europe, though the First Citizen does not see such as immediately viable."
"A unified..." Shinji blinked. "How would that even work? What would it be backed by?" Would each government have to have a reserve of precious metals and gems, or a similar economic policy? Would there have to be some kind of economic union, or some kind of supranational group to determine monetary policy? "For that matter, what is our current currency backed by?"
"The Ministry's currency, by their word. Albion's...at present, a reserve of American dollars and precious metals."
"American dollars?" Shinji echoed, blinking. "Those...can't just be duplicated?"
"Not magically," the goblin noted with something like a smile. "For humans, the Americans do some wonderful things with paper."
"Huh," Shinji grunted. "Why not Fr—ah, right, the propaganda. People still fear and hate France and others on the Continent."
"Yes."
The Americans, on the other hand, were more of an unknown, and had no reason to be involved in British politics, nor the ability to reach there by magical means, so far as the average person knew. They were also native English speakers, and so they were likely seen as safer, even if they had their own weird quirks.
"They're a big investor in Gobcorp, aren't they? The Americans, I mean."
"They are," Mudbutton confirmed. "They have made some promises, but time will tell if they are more trustworthy than any other wizards." The Spectre went quiet for a moment. "You've met some, yes?"
"I have."
"What was...what were they like?" the goblin inquired, unable to hide a note of longing in his voice. "Were they…"
"Well, one was a shaman," Shinji related, noting how Mudbutton's eyes narrowed at that admission. "I fought beside her on the Isle of Thule to defeat an incarnation of decay and destruction. She wasn't the most powerful person I've fought beside–" That honor belonged to Elesa, from what he'd seen. "—but she had uncommon skill, and could awaken the memories of what something was."
"Oh?"
"She could use the feather of a phoenix to bring about renewal, or cause the land to shift into a form it had once held. Have items remember they were supposed to be whole, or more…" He smiled slightly. "Ramona was something, certainly. But what I remember isn't her power, it is her kindness, her willingness to listen – though perhaps that is related to her power as well."
"I see."
"There's also Rebekah, the assistant to the American President," he offered, thinking that it would probably be unwise to speak of his adventures with Elesa, given that he didn't think her status as one of the Chosen was public knowledge. "She too was…generous. Even kind. Unexpected of a politician."
"Kind?"
"Yes. She forgave my debts and worked with me to ensure that the Ministry could not seize what I had created for themselves," he reflected, remembering their conversation. "But that seems to be what Americans are like, in my experience. Powerful, but kind."
"Perhaps you would be interested in sparring with one of the Americans who has been assisting us with training then, since you have some insight into them?" Tomas questioned.
"Oh, an American?"
"Yes, a man who goes by the name of Jack," the Wizard-Marshal replied. "As I understand it, your companion caused a bit of a ruckus yesterday?"
"…unfortunately, yes."
"In that case, you will be sparring with members of the Liberation Forces, and those in training, as well as some other individuals of interest for 2 hours a day," Tomas noted. "Consider it training."
"…and Tohsaka?" Shinji asked, his voice kept polite only through the greatest of strains.
"As she is part of your squad, I leave her discipline to you," the Marshal said. "Consider it part of learning to lead."
"…as you wish, Marshal," the boy agreed, none to happy about this turn of events. He would make sure Tohsaka understood her forward behavior was neither wanted nor acceptable, administering a punishment he was sure her body would remember.
"Glad to hear it, Matou. Is there anything else?"
Shinji shook his head.
"Then you are dismissed. Sparring will begin tomorrow, so don't be late."
