* Fate/Stay Night – Sorrow
* Fate/Stay Night – Light and Darkness
* Fate/Stay Night – Ever-present Feeling
* Fate/Stay Night – This Illusion (inst.)
* F/SN – Sorrow
Galahad made his way across the ruins with his hand over his heart.
His silhouette was framed in gold, the outline of it had become indistinct and ethereal. His physical body in this place and time was wearing away, an irrefutable proof that he was a stranger in this era.
Just before, he had felt a great turmoil within, a sensation he had never experienced in the past. Something had happened to Leo, something he was too late to prevent. Seeing how the knight's vessel was losing its form, it was most likely that his unfortunate Master had breathed his last.
It had been a very strong possibility from the start. Leo had always managed to take care of himself so far, but they had both known how much weaker he had been getting. If anything, it had been more likely for him to be killed than to see the end of this Holy Grail War. That was true – but Galahad was the one who should have made that impossible a reality. Though he had fought for his Master's well-being, he had failed to be there at the most important moment.
Leo had not called for his help. It was possible he had simply ran out of time. In hindsight, he had been saying some strange things on their way here. Galahad also remembered what they had discussed the night prior. If that was true, then he could not have saved Leo no matter what. But... even so, he should have been at his side. Leo would not have wanted to disappear alone. Although Galahad struggled to grasp the feeling of others, that was something he understood.
This time around, his friend had departed before him.
That fact filled his chest with pain. Greater than his sadness at his own demise, greater even than the fear of living without a meaning.
However, it would be fine: that was the feeling Galahad had. Despite his grief and the gap in his heart, not everything had vanished. His connection with Leo was still there. It was tenuous, yes, but even so it refused to be severed entirely. The two of them were still Master and Servant through the rift of death. That would explain why Galahad had not been reclaimed by the Holy Grail yet – his fraying body managed to stabilize itself just enough to remain.
It was a strange feeling to be sure.
But hope was alive.
He still had his promise to keep.
And so, Galahad walked. He did not even think about where he was heading; he knew his steps would lead him where he was needed. All the while, he focused on the bond he still shared with Leo. To make sure he didn't leave him, that he would wait until they were reunited. And, at the same time, he took in the world around him.
The wind, the cold over his skin.
The smell of dust, blood and sulfur that filled his nose.
The silence undercut by the battle still waged at the top of the ruins.
The hill of debris, the lake of mud wrapped around it, enclosed by ravaged mounts. Every detail he could glean of this place and what lied beyond, sitting under a nigh-dawn sky where the splendor of the Moonchild had receded.
It might only be describable as a disheartening painting where destruction had triumphed. He had to accept all of it nonetheless. In this very moment, he was alive. This was his second life and those sensations were only allowed to him because of that. Since yesterday, he had been thinking long and hard about it but it seemed he needed more time. Once, he had been a knight and a king, his life had been blessed and his name honoured. Yet only after surrendering that life had he understood what it meant to him.
This time, he wanted to see it for what it was.
As usual, after being summoned as a Servant he had not spared it much thought. A duty to fulfill had been his only need, he had accepted those days as little more than a necessity. If a hero was needed, he would rise up to the occasion without interference from his feelings. But it was different now. He had asked the question again and again, though he knew very well he would never obtain an answer.
He wouldn't stop searching, because he wanted to treasure it.
Those ephemeral days as a stranger in a world beyond his understanding.
He hadn't really done much aside from fighting and watching the struggles of those around him. So few memories he could hold them in the palms of his hands. And yet... and yet... looking back on them, he eventually reached a truth even he could understand.
He wanted to live.
As a human, he wanted to move on and accept this life.
That's why he had to feel, hear and see. Now more than ever he had to savour it. After all, this time did not belong to him. He had lived and died many ages ago. The Heroic Spirit Galahad was still slumbering for eternity. The moments he had shared with Leo Argas were like a dream. If only he had realized sooner, it would have been nice to do more with this dream.
But that's how it was.
He knew without being told: even if he had defeated every opponent in his way, it wasn't over yet. There was still the last leg of the journey to traverse. Leo was waiting for him.
"..."
And now, he was looking at his destination.
For the first time, he laid eyes on the titan born of mud. The Unborn was hunched over next to the ruins, its face brought low like a famished wolf desperately gnawing on a bone for the last shreds of meat. Above its head, the Lesser Grail was casting its radiance over this pitiful painting. Galahad understood what he was standing before; he recalled the cries he had heard within Migdal Bavel, as well as the voice of the golden chalice. His intuition was leading him in that direction as well.
He knew what it meant.
Still, he didn't pause.
Right now, there was more important than his own feelings.
Lower down the slope, he saw someone standing near the pathway that ventured out of the hill. Hatsuyo was staring at the prostrate giant without moving. She only turned around when Galahad walked down to her. She looked to him with distraught, pleading eyes. Her hands were covering her face but they couldn't conceal her horror. She recognized the knight but couldn't speak up, her voice was drowned by tears of shame and sorrow. But there was no need for words.
"Where is Leo?" Galahad asked softly.
"..." She raised a shaking hand to point at the pathway in the Unborn's clutches. "...he was eaten... I didn't... in time..."
She could see the golden particles flying off the knight. It must have only cemented what she feared the most. He couldn't let her bear that burden though. If Leo were here, he would want to cheer her up. Seeing her in that state, Galahad too thought it was unforgiveable – these people no longer needed to hold onto their regrets.
"I see." He nodded to her and smiled. "Leave it to me. I'll look after Leo."
"..."
These simple words wouldn't assuage her misery. However, behind all the helplessness in her eyes, he saw a glimmer of hope. Even though Galahad's confidence must have seemed absurd, she was willing to cling on to it.
"I will take care of things here, so please: could you go back and help the others?" He glanced over his shoulder. "When this is over, leave with everyone."
"..."
She still said nothing but he thought he saw her nodding slightly. That was good enough for him. She could do it. He had faith in all of them; he had seen for himself that they could carry on. With that reassurance, he continued past the mourning girl and made toward his opponent.
'██████'
The Unborn saw him as well.
The mud seeping through the gaps in its limbs and from its mouth were flooding the stone path. The tide rose around it, welling up to swallow every last piece of the crumbled mansion and the lives on it. Galahad stepped onto the pathway without hesitation and made toward the amalgamation of distorted desires. Likewise, the mud was spreading to meet him. When his foot entered the tide, a singing sensation crawled up his legs and his instinct warned him. But the knight disregarded it and kept forward, staring deeply into the Unborn's soulless gaze.
One last time, he mused about himself.
He wanted to live.
Did that mean he was afraid to die?
If he had realized earlier... would he have been able to feel this way?
Deep inside, he issued an apology to Percival and Bors. He wished he had been able to see the world by their side.
GIVE IT TO US
The voices of the lost resounded in his head as the Unborn began slithering its nightmarish face toward him.
HOLY VESSEL
RECEIVE OUR PRAYER
GIVE US DELIVERANCE
"I'm sorry, but..." The tide reached up to his waist; the knight raised his sword and his shield. From the cracks in his flesh, a pure light surged. "That is not my wish."
Chapter CXXXI: Thank
* F/SN – Light and Darkness
Aleister's emotional state was unknown even to himself.
Events had been unfolding at a breackneck pace, his position on the stage had not been left unscathed. Naturally, for a man such as him the most fundamental course of action was to analyze and comprehend. There was a lot to consider, although the bottom line was ultimately that the outcome had been out of his hands. Evangeline's decision had been carried out by none other than herself and the means he had granted her had been a necessity. Anastasia Angelene had been a personal motivation for the Moonchild, but maybe he shouldn't have left her to roam freely.
This new situation was not calling for calm pondering, however.
Of course, the magus and researcher in him was dying to dissect the flaws in his designs and resolve how to erase them. Sadly, he was not free from the present situation. There was still a crisis to oversee and nuisances to take care of. Beneath those three priorities, there was the heart of the human Aleister Crowley. His high-speed thinking didn't make the process simpler; if anything, it made him neglect the details that couldn't simply be reasoned out.
But it was still there, like sand between the cogs.
It was annoying.
Be as it may, he silenced most of his thoughts. Hindsight and foresight would have to wait until he had settled his mind. And a necessary step to this was dealing with the man standing before him.
"Let us see what game you're playing." Without even knowing his name, Aleister scrutinized every one of Inheim's aspects and actions. "Illusions, is it?"
Earlier, when Saber had disengaged from their duel and ran away, Aleister had tried to intercept him. None of his attempts had reach his target; because from that moment on the true Galahad had been concealed behind a decoy. Inheim's countenance was to such a degree that little could be grasped solely from looking at him. Rather typical of advanced practitioners of illusion magecraft, as per Aleister's experience. Last but not least, Inheim was quite simply steeped in it.
"We haven't been acquainted yet, have we?" Aleister showed a rictus of disdain. "You're in luck, I already have a good grasp of all the pieces on this board – the last mastermind doesn't need to introduce himself. You've done better than the others, lasting this long. And yet, you've just done something unfathomable. Could it be that, after bidding your time, you were tripped up by your own pawns?"
"Not any more than you. You said something about wasting time, didn't you?" Inheim replied without a trace of emotion. Slowly, he raised his arm in front of him and joined his palms horizontally. "Then I won't waste it with questions either. I know who you are but it doesn't matter to me."
"..."
"Needless to say, you can't ignore me. I will let you escape if that's what you prefer, but that is it. You won't find what you want with me alive – and you certainly don't have the leisure to exchange niceties."
He had hit the nail on the head.
Discussion was simply a method of gaining some time to gauge one's adversary. For Aleister, Inheim was a pest that he wouldn't bother with if possible. Now that the table had turned, nothing mattered more than to get rid of Saber or his Master. Inheim was perfectly aware of his own position. He knew the Caster wouldn't escape: now that he had become a Masterless Servant, the Holy Grail was not something he could ignore. If a victor was decided and the ritual ended, the leftover would be in a difficult spot.
"Your decision is even more foolish than it appeared, then." Aleister scoffed. "You've painted a bright target on your head and stepped out of the shadows to be out of your league. Do you believe some mage is going to make me tremble? My existence is beyond yours!"
He waved his crystal staff.
Spheres of energy materialized around him and spun. In terms of speed and efficiency, Aleister had an overwhelming edge. It wouldn't take much to erase the illusionist. A fact plain as day, yet not enough to disturb Inheim's placid expression. In reaction to hostility, he merely clasped his hands together before spreading them wide apart. Nothing happened to Aleister's spells, nor did a single pebble on the hilltop move. The eyes couldn't see what he had done – but it could be felt.
Aleister's arm froze before he could wield his power against Inheim.
Something was gone.
The Temple had not disappeared with the Moonchild; it had been set up before her consecration. It was made up of thirteen pillar encompassing Fuyuki City in a circle, acting as linchpins for the ritual. Just now, the signal from the pillar on Mt. Enzou had been cut off. The same observation could be made for the two pillars adjacent to it. Aleister had a direct connection to these terminals, a mundane illusion wouldn't be enough to hide them from him. It was even more unthinkable that Inheim could have the firepower to destroy them at once.
"I see..." Hence, only one answer was left. The Servant glared at his interlocutor while a grin was forming on his face. "It was you from the start. Here I wondered why this part of my Temple was unstable; you sabotaged it behind my back."
"The interference of that liquid curse gave me a cover, on top of guaranteeing you would come here. Until the rest of the participants made it here, I've been wearing down the cornerstones of your territory to near-collapse – I only made it appear as though they were intact. Thanks to the chaos around here, you didn't suspect that the problem came from that Temple of yours."
"Interesting. You took advantage of your nature as an unknown factor to stay just out of my sight..." Aleister held his chin in contemplation. His eyes turned colder than ice; the pressure around him heightened. "And how will that save you? If you had kept that trick in your bag, you might have been able to put a scratch on me."
"I'm demonstrating the reason for your failure." Inheim replied dryly. "Once we tally everything you've lost, your 'eye' should be blind by now. Admittedly, this is not the exact scenario I had prepared. But it makes us even: I don't have a Servant and you don't have a Master. This isn't a battle between human and Servant – this is a duel between magi."
"A duel, hm...?"
Aleister tilted his head.
Without warning, the spheres around him fired at Inheim and incinerated the ground where he stood. That wasn't all; the beams of light rotated and spread the damage to the rest of the hilltop. As expected, the illusionist was nowhere to be seen in the aftermath. But he had nowhere to run to. Before the first spells even ran out, more appeared to dispense intensive fire.
"Very well." Aleister didn't have to lift a finger. "Hide, then. You should have already noticed that you can't break into my psyche. Cast every mirage you want, make yourself seem unreachable. It won't bridge the distance between us."
"It is no illusion."
Aleister's eyes instantly darted to the origin of the voice. He spotted the runaway figure of Inheim dashing swiftly between the blasts of energy, just fast enough to slip into the gaps between attacks. That was an impressive level of speed to reach even for a veteran magus, although the way he moved about was not natural. It didn't make much difference either way; Aleister was even faster.
While the illusionists zigzagged his way around his opponent, the Servant leaped through space and appeared directly next to him. Nonchalantly, he swung his staff and cut off Inheim's path. Sparks filled the air and burst into blue flames. Even so, the human just barely managed to escape from the blaze.
"As I thought, the one moving isn't you." Aleister turned his free palm toward Inheim and fired another blast.
Inheim hurriedly pulled out a couple of gemstones and chucked them in the air; a barrier appeared to shield him from the spell. On the other hand, he had made himself an easy target by becoming stationnary. Rays of light came from many directions and reduced the magic shell to nothing. Yet once again, Inheim had dodged and increased the distance in a blink. He wasn't completely unharmed this time: his sleeve had been burnt black and dyed red. With every escape of his, it became more of a close call.
A flat, feline head emerged from the shadow at his feet and hissed at Aleister.
"It's alright, Caith Sith." The illusionist had his eyes on his opponent, waiting for the moment he would move. "Pace yourself. Too many movements won't work against him."
"Indeed."
The next instant, Aleister was standing two metres above Inheim. Light shot from his staff in a straight line. Inheim's familiar quickly dived in its owner's shadow and saved him from being nailed on the spot. Caster had expected as much though; another blade of light closed in on them, except it came horizontally and at ground level. If Caith Sith was incapacitated, Inheim would be helpless as a child. The interval between the two attacks was too short and the range too wide; the ground under the pair was razed and his legs were severed.
However, Inheim's maimed figure vanished into thin air like a cloud of steam.
Aleister swiped his arm. Within a fraction of a second, he calculated all the paths the true Inheim could have taken and which spots would be the most advantageous to him. If an illusion could not trick its target, it was essentially useless – Aleister extended four fingers and as many pillars appeared around the hilltop. They rose tall before turning brittle and falling apart. The air was filled with moonlight leaves which would cut through anything with razor sharpness.
The only answer to it was straightforward defence: a dome of red light appeared. Inheim was spared a thousand cuts in exchange for revealing his position. Of course, his barrier was made invisible to protect the secret; but Aleister could feel the feedback from his attack. The leaves flaked into dust and dispersed; the barrier disappeared and revealed the illusionist staring at Aleister, undisturbed.
"Another fake."
The Servant disregarded him immediately and snapped his fingers.
In truth, the leaves had turned into a thin power and still wafted about the hilltop. When processed and scattered in this manner, the magical energy contained in them was poisonous to the body. The lack of reaction on Inheim's part was what had tipped Aleister off – at his command, the space around the hilltop was condensed. No fly had been caught in his web; the Caster refocused his attention below him.
"I know you're still here. You have no intention of running away." Demonic eyes peered at the arena as a whole, digesting down to the slighest detail. "You said you would let me leave but it would be more troublesome for you if I did. You'd rather stay here like an appealing bait so there's no score to settle. Isn't it so?"
With another snap, a magic circle appeared above a certain spot and doused it in pale, bright energy. The target had noticed beforehand and avoided death. Unfortunately for him, Aleister ran a calculation based on Caith Sith's previous movements to discern its path and timing. Then, he raised his hand and a gale rushed to peel off the mirage. Abruptly halted in his course, Inheim raised an arm to shield himself and toppled to his knees.
"It may be so..." His hand was passed over his mouth and nose. His brows furrowed, finally offering a different sight to the Servant. "Even knowing that, you're not making a good showing. You can be more thorough and overpowering than this. I suppose your best tricks are the most costly."
"A valid analysis. Although it might draw a wrongful conclusion."
Aleister removed the walls closing off their battlefield. Inheim was right that some expenses were not worth it, all the more if Aleister planned to pursue his true opponent. Nonetheless, the contrast between their skills couldn't be more evident; Inheim could do nothing aside from falling back on his specialty.
Aleister reappeared in front of his kneeling target, his finger aimed at his forehead. At the same time, two pillars appeared on each side of Inheim, stunning the familiar which would have instinctivelly feld in either directions. There was no time to escape. Yet Inheim stared into the Servant's eyes with an unyielding gaze.
His salvation came not from himself but from a third party: as Aleister was about bore a hole through his skull, a figure charged at him from the side.
"I've got you...!"
"...!"
Galahad was approaching, blade at the ready. At this distance, even if Aleister teleported he would most likely not escape an injury at the very least; Saber's return had not been within his calculations at all. Under the cover of Inheim's magecraft, the knight had made it close to Aleister undetected... that would certainly be a convenient scenario.
"Do not take me lightly." Impassive, Aleister flicked his wrist and dispersed the mirage. "Even if you imitate the outward shell, the essence is a different matter. Not to mention, there would be no reason for you to reveal him at all if he were here."
That was a desperate move if anything, only a fool would fall for it. Yet it wouldn't be right to say Aleister had been completely unaffected. He had identified the deception within a heartbeat but he had still considered the possibility of it being true. After all, the fact remained that Galahad was somewhere in the ruins and that Aleister would gain more by fighting him. As a result, the Servant's attention had been diverted for a moment – enough for Inheim to cast his next illusion.
Suddenly, an army appeared around the two magi – no, around the hilltop as a whole.
Each of these figures was an identical copy of Inheim Argas, all of them staring at the Caster. With so many of them there was no room left to stand anywhere. For Aleister though, it was just as laughable as every other attempt. It was more disorienting than going invisible, that much was true. But that didn't change the role it was fulfilling.
"The next time you reappear, you'll be a corpse."
He spun around and swung his staff at the same time. The latter stretched and became an incandescent blade that sliced through the crowd. In an instant, all of the images were blown away and the real Inheim must have been scythed as well. That was how it should be, but Aleister could tell he hadn't hit the illusionist. How could he have made it out of reach so quickly?
"Hear me; pretense cast aside will cleanse our old souls."
The answer was simple: he hadn't.
Inheim had not moved at all from his original position in front of Caster. Under the pretense of running away, he had gained some more time. His hands were held out in front of him, gathering power. The air trembled and twisted, as though it was being methodically ripped open. A shape was coming into existence, still undefined yet more tangible by the second.
"If truth can only be seen, let us behold;
Between dusk and eve, hour of black dogs and faes;
With the eyes of children, we need not question;
A devil is a devil, a miracle is a miracle;
Let us see – a gilded Spear of Victory."
The illusion in his hands was gaining a clear outline and took on the shape of a weapon. Aleister was not familiar with this process specifically but he could tell something was different; that was no mere illusion. Without proper preparation, Inheim's chances of turning an image into reality was close to zero. On the other hand, if his misshapen creation ran wild, the outcome might be no less devastating.
Aleister moved his hands swiftly.
If he attacked Inheim directly, the latter might slip away. Rather than take the gander of weathering the assault or grant him more time, the Caster aimed for the Grand Illusion itself. While in the process of cementing its existence, it was vulnerable to a keen eye: Aleister analyzed the construct and struck in multiple spots to weaken the structure. When he seized the imaginary spear, his counterspell was complete and Inheim's illusion crumbled at the seams with a shock.
Aleister gave him no respite; with a wave of his palm Inheim was pressed against the ground.
"I have more important matters to attend. I won't waste more time on child's play."
The crystal staff was raised for the final blow. There was no conceivable method of escape for Inheim at this point. He might try to use his familiar to get away, but Aleister had accounted for it. The next move was the end of this pathetic duel. That being said, something held the winner's attention: Inheim's face was bruised and a sliver of blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth, yet his expression was as unwavering as ever. Aleister was one who took pride in reading the heart of humans, he knew that look wasn't stoicism nor a force of habit to protect his dignity.
As far as Inheim Argas was concerned, their duel was far from over.
"You said something interesting before." The illusionist spat. "If I have a real trump card, I don't need to reveal it."
Aleister teleported four metres behind himself.
Those words could be taken to mean anything but he wasn't dupe. There was nothing here beside the remains of the Boleskine House, which had been made after the battle had already started. Inheim Argas could not have prepared the terrain within Aleister's own territory. But there was something – demonic eyes opened all over the Servant's body, surveying every single angle simultaneously.
His calculations left him a handful of predictions. He selected one and raised his hand; a gale followed his gesture and blew 68° to his left. Just as he had premonized, that was where his enemy was approaching from. When the illusion was removed, it revealed neither Inheim nor Galahad; it was a young woman holding a katana.
"Tch!"
Hatsuyo clicked her tongue. But the burst of wind was not nearly enough to knock her off course. Once she knew she had been spotted, she doubled down. In spite of her condition as a human, she could move with more agility and strength than any of her companions. Even Aleister was taken off guard when she bolted in a straight line for his head. Most especially, he knew the weapon in her hands was something he should be warry of.
But even if her physical abilities were miles above that of Inheim, she was still not a threat on the same level as Saber; when she delivered a swift stroke meant to slice through Aleister, the latter was gone. His surprise was vanished already, now he pondered how to dispatch this annoyance without wasting too much energy.
Despite the disparity, Hatsuyo showed no sign of hesitance. Her gaze was filled with unbridled wrath, but also a sharpness of mind unfit for someone acting recklessly. Rather than disengage to save her life, she drew back her blade and shifted her position. After a mere second suspended in time, she suddenly stood right next to the Servant and took a swing. This movement technique took advantage of the opponent's attention to make it seem as though one was moving faster than the eye could follow – it would work on a regular human but not on someone like Aleister whose awareness was infallible.
Her second attack also went through empty air.
Aleister had already surmised she was the type to persist stubbornly. And so, when he reappeared a short distance away he had already gathered light in his palm to make sure there would be no third attempt.
This time around though, she betrayed his expectation.
"Hey! Take this!"
Instead of approaching again, she took aim and hurled her sword at him. The Servant's eyes opened wide, he had not expected her to get rid of her greatest advantage. That was still too little; he effortlessly predicted its trajectory and moved out of the way. Even so, the look in her eyes wasn't that of someone who had made a mistake.
Aleister pondered only for a moment before it occurred to him: her words had not been aimed at him. He turned the other way, the same direction the sword had flown in, and exposed another sneaky pest. When the illusion unraveled, a certain freelance magus became visible to the naked eye.
"Hmph."
Ewald was surprised to have been spotted so fast but didn't step back. He had closed quite the distance while invisible, enough that there was only a bit left. Although he had unfortunately lost his knife, Hatsuyo had passed her weapon of choice to him. He didn't have her expertise and the katana was heavier than what he was used to; hence, he simply held up the tip toward Aleister and charged to ram him. And he wasn't charging alone: while the Servant had his eyes on Ewald, Hatsuyo snuck up from behind and jumped to kick the back of his head.
"Is that it?"
As both closed in for a pincer attack, an unseen force stopped them in their course. It took only a snap of Aleister's fingers to end their pathetic assault and to knock them back with a shockwave. The two rolled over the ground and did their best best to recover. Even if they stood back to their feet, they had completely wasted their chance, if there had ever been one.
On his side, Aleister was not done: after repelling Hatsuyo and Ewald, he rotated and threw his staff at the floor near him. The crystal javelin impaled Caith Sith before the latter could dive into his shadow. As it yelped helplessly, Aleister had moved his hand to intercept Inheim's spell; four gems had been used up to cast a spiral of energy strong enough to break through a barrier. But Aleister needed less than that. After only a second in his grasp, the spell was thoroughly broken down until it burst apart like firework.
In the aftermath of everything stood a Caster who had not received the lighest blow.
"That was your trump card?" He snarled with a raspy voice. "A gathering of non-factors flailing their arms about. That's all you had left. Out of my sight."
Moonlight welled up from his arms and his chest. It bubbled up and clustered above him, growing from the size of a fist to be twice the size of a man. There was no ambiguity in Aleister's intent and not a doubt in the mind of those watching: this next attack was meant to wipe out all of them.
And what could they do?
"..."
"..."
"..."
The three humans around him were looking back defiantly.
But none of them took action.
While Inheim may have seemed indifferent, the truth was that they had exhausted all of the cards in their already poor hand. Ewald and Hatsuyo had entered the fray without knowing him. They weren't fighting for his sake in the first place, yet they didn't blame him. They were no strangers to desperate situations; perhaps for that reason, they stared at Aleister not with resignation, but the resolve to find a solution.
As though to honour that courage, another will joined them – a pebble flew toward the Servant.
* F/SN – Ever-present Feeling
It was flat and oval, too small to seriously hurt anyone. So harmless that Aleister didn't even identify it as a threat: it bounced back against his skin without a sound and rolled lightly on the ground. That was the best his aggressor could throw at him with her weak arms. Still, it was enough to make him pause. He looked down at the pebble; he couldn't even find it among all the rubbles.
Then, slowly, he looked up at Anastasia Angelene.
"Stop it, Caster."
She was standing barefoot among the debris, gripping her light dress with trembling hands. Even her expression was feeble, dampened by her recent loss and the incertitude of grappling with a mortal body again.
In spite of that, she took shaky steps toward him.
"That's not what Evan wanted." She tried as she could to wipe off the tears from her face, while her eyes were filled with reproach. "She decided she didn't need a new world. She said... she said I would live my own life in this one. What's the point if you destroy everything?! You won't get anything back this way! So please, stop fighting. It's only going to make her sad."
"..."
Aleister observed her gravely. His thoughts didn't show through his face, although the look in his eyes was still chilling. Realistically, there was nothing that girl could do to hinder him. He had looked after her as a patient and she had become intrinsically woven into his plans, but it didn't really matter to him if she died with the rest of them. At this point it would make no difference. Nonetheless, Aleister stared at her like she was an anomaly.
Eventually, he let out a humourless chuckle.
"For the first time, you're showing me your true colours." He said, which caused her to purse her lips. "You'd want me to respect the last wishes of a girl who has betrayed my dream?"
"Yes." Anastasia nodded without hesitation. "Evan admired you. When she made her own decision, she didn't hate yours. Can't you do the same for her?"
"Hah. Haven't we become a tad selfish?" The Servant smirked. "That's not a bad change of pace for you. No need to give me that look, you'll have satisfaction either way."
The mass of energy above him wavered and began to fizzle out. Freed from his grasp, it fled into the air and returned to its original state. That was not necessarily Aleister's choice, but an inevitabilty: alongside the pale blue strands, grains of golden light floated up. His body could no longer bear the price of anchoring himself without a Master.
"This is as far as I can go, it seems. To think I would exhaust all of it against amateurs who aren't in the race anymore..." He looked up to the sky, though his guiding star was long gone. "If I had caught up with Saber, it would have ended the same way. This duel was in your favour from the beginning."
Saying so, he glanced at Inheim. Now that the will to fight had left Aleister, the illusionist stood up with some difficulty and approached calmly. He showed neither satisfaction for his victory nor contempt for the defeated. He simply returned his gaze with tacit understanding.
"May I ask a question?" He said. "Why didn't you discard your Temple? If not for the cost of maintaining it, you could have endured much longer."
"Then let me ask you in return: why did you show yourself? You could have stayed a bystander until the end without risking much." Aleister sneered. "The pride of a magus doesn't need reason; you must know that as well. This is the closest I've ever gotten to the ambition of a lifetime. If I ran away and survived at all costs, the chances of it happening again are laughable."
Then, he looked to Anastasia.
"I might achieve some result if I used you as a vessel. But you will never reach the same level of compatibility as her, I'm afraid. For now, I'll bid my time once again. Be as it may, you are the last remnant of my achievement. If you'd please me, live as long a life as possible."
He couldn't help but find amusement in the compassion that girl showed despite her own position.
But he didn't expect comfort from her nor did he need it.
And so, Aleister Crowley turned his back to his final opponents and walked away.
As he climbed down the ruins of his own workshop, the last of his body scattered in the wind.
When Michael saw the Caster of White vanish for good, he could finally sigh in relief.
After making his way to the top of the hill with Ewald, Silvelune and Maria, they had stumbled upon a really strange scene. Instead of two Servants fighting to the death, he had found his own brother in a battle he should have no part in. And before he could find an answer to the myriad of questions popping up in his head, Hatsuyo had come out of nowhere to join the fight. Then it had been Ewald's turn to head in.
Michael had stayed behind to look after his daughter and her friend. If he had been in better shape, he would have thought about fighting too. Even if he understood why his companions had taken the risk, the last thing he wanted was for them to be in danger again so soon.
In the end though, everyone was alive and well.
Once that fact had sunk in, they went back into motion. Ewald stood up with a grunt and walked up to Hatsuyo to return her weapon.
"I think I'll stick to knives."
"How about you don't rush in empty-handed, for starters?" She sighed.
She retrieved her katana and glanced at it with some melancholy, a frustration no one around her could understand. But she shook her head and refused to dwell on those feelings. She looked at all the people present to make sure each of them was safe and sound. Ewald came over to Michael and heaved Silvelune on his back again. The latter was only looking weakly in direction of Inheim; the illusionist walked up to his familiar writhing on the ground. With Aleister gone, the javelin had worn off and all that was left was a large hole in the cat's silhouette. Without a word, he picked up the trembling creature and turned his back on the rest of them, before leaving.
"Wait!"
But someone called out to him and he stopped: Michael stepped after his brother, doing his best to hold up his unconscious daughter with aching arms. Inheim didn't look around to face him. That didn't surprise Michael at all, but at the very least he could hear him.
"You didn't think I'd just let it slide, did you? What's this all about, Inheim?"
"Care to elaborate?" His brother muttered.
"That's weak, even coming from you." Michael grumbled. "What are you doing here? That's a bit too much of a coincidence, if you ask me."
"...Don't worry, I didn't come here to meet you." Inheim gave a faint shrug. "There were some loose ends I had to tie, that is all. It doesn't quite matter anymore."
He resumed walking.
"Hey!" Michael wanted to go after him. But he knew it was pointless. "Are you really going to leave it off to that?!"
"There more important things for you, right now." Inheim said. "It's too early to call it a day. Unless you want to share what I've experienced, you should look more closely after these two. Take them with you and go back where you want to be. What happens afterward... is none of my concern."
"Inheim!"
In the same brutal manner as always, the older brother signaled the end of their conversation by disappearing. It was just as frustrating every time but Michael wasn't going to run after him. He had known ever since their last discussion, that this was how things would always be. There was no use trying to fix their relationship. Still, something about Inheim's parting words left Michael perplexed; he kept staring at the spot where his brother had vanished.
"That man..." Silvelune spoke hoarsely next to him. "...he's one of those who helped recreating the Holy Grail with me..."
"What?!" The middle-aged magus looked back and forth between her and the empty air, making round eyes like a fish's. "What is– what do you mean, this– Hey, what's this all about, Inheim! Come back here, Inheim!"
If he knew where that asshole had gone to, he would run after him and grab him by the collar. Actually, Michael felt that with such conviction that he was willing to do it blindly too. Unfortunately, forceful family reunion was not the order of the day: while he was pacing around furiously, Michael's fuss was brought to an end by a sudden tremor.
"Whoa!" He had to balance himself to keep Maria from falling over.
"Look out." Ewald had to be the one making sure Michael himself didn't crash face first.
The hill as a whole was shaking. All of them looked around in hopes of knowing what they had to be warry of this time. It didn't take long for someone to reach the answer – Anastasia waved her arms sheepishly to get their attention.
"Um... Excuse me! I think we have to leave! Everything's disappearing!"
She received a round of raised eyebrows in return. No one was sure who this mysterious girl was nor how she fit in this whole situation. Nonetheless, it quickly became clear that she made a good point: the remains of Boleskine House were dissolving. The hill of debris was becoming unstable, patches of it were collapsing left and right.
* F/SN – This Illusion (inst.)
"That flying house was made by Caster, right?" Hatsuyo frowned.
"No wonder it's breaking down!" Michael swore and propped up Maria more solidly on his back. "Come on, it's time to go!"
"But if we go down..."
Ewald didn't need to finish his sentence: none of them had forgotten the mire that had them trapped here in the first place. Once the ruins were gone, they would have lost all places to hide from the mud and the raging souls who abided to it. They didn't have much of a choice; if they just waited with gaping mouths, things would turn ugly anyway. But then what? They had already wrung themselves dry of options, they could barely count on themselves to run.
At that moment, Michael's phone rang.
"Huh? Just wait a minute... c'mon..." He struggled to get it out of his pocket in this position. After squirming a bit though, he saw the name on the screen and picked up immediately. "Took you long enough!"
"Not ▄▄▄▄ me ▄▄▄▄▄ no time and ▄▄▄ position."
The voice on the other side was crackling and only gave one word out of three. As expected, the reception here was terrible. Michael stuck his ear against the phone and shouted:
"I didn't get any of that! Where are you right now?!"
"▄▄▄▄ said give your position!" His interlocuter didn't appreciate and raised her voice as well. "I ▄▄ almost there!"
Michael blinked and looked around helplessly. He had a better idea of what she wanted but no idea of how to give it to her. That was, until a specific sound rang throughout the mountains. Now that no one was fighting on the hill, they could hear it loud and clear: everyone turned their head in unisson toward the origin of the rumbling. For the record, the place where the mansion had crashed was a small valley surrounded by elevations of various sizes. There were no roads or habitations here.
And yet, looking to the west they saw two bright spot peek over the slope.
It wasn't some mystical light shining in the sky nor the worrying glare of fire – it was the familiar glow of a car's headlights. The roaring engine made it seem even more like a ghost out of the night as the vehicle tipped over and began a rough descent down the slant and toward the gigantic pile of rubbles. It was still too dark to make out the car's appearance correctly, but it was reminiscent to one that had been stolen earlier this morning.
"No need, I think we've found you..." Michael was impressed by the extreme driving. But then, he remembered where it was headed. "Wait! You can't come closer, you're gonna be melted...!"
The driver didn't head his warning in time or maybe she just hadn't heard correctly. At any rate, the car kept going in a straight line. Contrary to expectation, it didn't burst into flame nor was it drowned by mud. The survivors couldn't believe their eyes until they heard the sound of the tires braking just in front of the slope.
"Or I guess you won't..." Michael was still speaking into his phone even though the call had ended. While he was recovering from bewilderment, the car's driver communicated her impatience with a resounding honk. "Y-yeah, we get it! Alright, let's hope this isn't an hallucination..."
He didn't even need to signal his companion: the whole group set in motion at once and began their climb down the ruins. They advanced as fast as they could while still minding their footsteps on the treacherous terrain which was still trembling dangerously. The memory of fighting for their lives was still fresh, and thus they kept some apprehension of what they would actually find down there. But the truth became more evident the lower they got: because the day was barely peeking into the sky, and because of how charred the soil was, they hadn't realized that the tide had ebbed away from that side.
When they could finally feel dirt under their feet, Michael was welcomed by a frowning face in the driver's seat.
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to drive through these mountains?" Orianna said through the open window. "You should thank God that all the trees and vegetation have been burned to the ground, or I wouldn't have gotten through at all."
"You really made it!" He blinked until he was sure he hadn't gone insane from all the smoke in the air. "But how did you find us so quickly? Weren't you going to another city?"
"I was, and I got there. I could only give them the shortest of reports but theyhave the gist of it. Help is on the way, even if it's only to control the damage. I was already on my way back when you tried to call me."
"Huh? Why–"
Michael was interrupted when the car's door opened suddenly. Out came a teenager who looked like he had seen a ghost, while two small heads stuck out of the car.
Laurent, Ladylee and Chris were staring at their group with tension written all over their faces and spoke at the same time:
"""Are you alright!?"""
"That's my question! Why are you three here?!" Michael shouted with equal parts astonishment and exasperation.
"You were supposed to evacuate to safety." Ewald said flatly.
"B-but...!" Chris was fidgeting vigorously. "We wanted to make sure you were fine!"
"They were quiet at the start, but then they wouldn't stop asking me to take them back." Orianna explained. "I couldn't really drop them off in the middle of nowhere. That's the only reason I made it here so fast, so don't complain about it and get in."
"Wait." Hatsuyo stepped in front of Michael and looked at Orianna. "Did you really reach this place without any obstacle? There was mud everywhere."
"Of course there were obstacles. Like you said, that thing was all over the place for half-a-kilometre. I thought we'd never find a way around, but then it started retreating on its own. I could have found you just by following it."
"So all this time, we could have left safely through here?!" Michael felt shivers more than ridicule.
"No. Not safely." The serious on Orianna's face was even more chilling. "Can't you see what's happening?"
She pointed at something behind them.
Somehow, before even turning around most of them had an idea already.
The hill was shrinking fast now, to the point it would have been dangerous to stay a minute more. But that wasn't what caught the eye – on the other side, a colossal figure was growing restless. It had been so quiet after the Moonchild's death that it had almost completely slipped their mind. Now though, the Unborn was arching its back and slamming its fists down. Its uncanny body was swaying in such a way that they couldn't tell whether it was trying to stand or if it was fighting something.
From its torn mouth, a roar ascended into the dying night.
One could read nearly any emotion they wanted in it. But no matter the person, that cry was too painful for human ears.
By now they could see the flow of mud converging from all directions to mass around the avatar of forsaken wishes. It should have been a rejoicing sight for those who had almost burned in its scalding embrace. But far from happiness, all they could feel in this very moment was fear: what they witnessed was a bomb ready to explode any second. Maybe it had found what it had been after, but the dark figure towering above the landscape was not one of serenity.
Its four eyes were moving around frenetically.
"Do you get it now?" Orianna asked.
"Yeah, yeah!" Michael pushed Laurent, Ladylee and Chris back inside the car. "It's gonna be a bit tight but we should all be able to fit in there..."
While the three were gathering on one side for space, he delicately moved Maria from his back. She was still unconsious and wore a troubled expression even in her sleep. She was gonna get out of here and soon all of this would be a bad memory. However, as Michael placed her down inside the car and looked at the other children, something dawned on him.
"No... we can't leave..." He turned and looked at the others like an anxious soul. "Leo... Where's Leo?! We didn't see Saber either! What happened to them?!"
Instinctively, he turned to Hatsuyo. She hadn't said a word about what she had found but she was the only one who might know something. When confronted by Michael though, she clenched her fists and her eyes ran away. It wasn't just that boy's uncle: she knew looking at their group that her answer would weigh on what happened next. And so, after taking a deep breath she looked back at Michael with the front of confidence she had mastered over the years.
"Leo's fine. Saber's with him, he'll make sure he's safe no matter what." Her fist tighetened so much the blood drained from her fingers. Thankfully, no one would be able to see it. "We need to leave."
"I see." Michael sighed and nodded. "He's more safe with his Servant than with us."
"Hurry up, we don't have much more time!" Orianna glared at the titanic creature behind them.
Indeed, the Unborn's agitation was getting worse by the second. There was no telling how long it would stay in place. With nothing else left to worry about, everyone did their best to find a spot inside a vehicle made for five people. Michael took place in the passenger seat and buckled up with unsteady hands. When he looked through Orianna's window, yet another commotion shook up the valley – the Unborn ragefully swung its fist. Mud was propelled into the air from that movement in all directions like a volcano's eruption.
He could only seen a glimpse of it and didn't think much, until Ewald warned them:
"There's one coming right for us!"
"Shit! Orianna...!"
"I know!"
The Executor turned the keys in the contact. To their dismay, the engine threw a fit and coughed up instead of starting up normally. Michael couldn't see it from his position, but the drop of mud plummetting straight for their car was larger than the latter. They were taking too long to move, they couldn't avoid getting snagged by it.
That was, if it hit them.
While those inside the car were getting worked up, a different sound reached their ears: the oncoming mud burst apart midair before it had a chance to shade them. This was the work of the only person still outside – Hatsuyo had grabbed a large debris that had yet to disappear and had thrown it with all her might. The effort left her grasping for breath and her arms were approaching their limit. But she was prepared to do it again if necessary.
Luckily, no other projectile was headed for them at the moment.
The engine finally revved up and proudly howled. It was only waiting for its last passenger. Hatsuyo looked back with reluctance, not only at the Unborn but also at the one they were leaving behind. Eventually though, her mind was made up: she ran to the car and jumped onto the roof.
"We can go!"
The wheels spun and at long last the survivors moved while the tumult around them was still raging. Driving up the same slope to escape was not an option; it was just as steep on the way up and the excess weight threatened to make the car stall. Instead, Orianna drove along the rim of the hill in search of a more accessible path. Even in this part of the valley, the rocks were littered everywhere and the uneven terrain made their car lurch and swerve.
"Let's hope there's enough gas to get away." Orianna grumbled. "I didn't refill this thing."
"Why would you tell me that?! It's already terrifying enough!" Michael cried.
"I don't want to hear whining while I'm focusing." She replied categorically. "By the way, I don't have a phone plan in Japan. Do you have any idea how much it cost to call you back?"
"So you're going to list out everything you have against me because it might be the end?!"
"I also paid for your breakfast."
While relieving her nerves, she found what she wanted up ahead. The elevations on that side were lower, maybe just enough to let them make their way through. However, the terrain was far from their only concern: the Unborn finally snapped and lunged forward. Most likely, it wasn't aware of the car trying to escape under its nose, and maybe it didn't care. Regardless, its fury presented them with a new hurdle: in the course of its rampage, the titan rammed the hill of debris. The latter was more than half-gone at this point but the sheer impact sent the remaining pieces flying.
Orianna cursed and veered to the left to gain some height.
If not for that, their car would end up crushed under several tons of rock. Driving along a slant with the same bumps as before made it twice as hard to keep in a straight line. Somehow, Orianna managed to stay on the same path while increasing the distance from the cascading debris. She wasn't going to relax for so much though; the real problem wasn't the stones spilling over like rolling waves, it was the ones sent flying as though fired from a catapult. Those flew high enough to rain all the way outside the valley.
In other words, the runaway group was right in the middle of the downpour.
There was no trick to avoiding those since she couldn't see them coming anyway. The car was running, which meant she could at least focus on what was in front of her. Stones fell in their field of vision and shook the ground. Orianna was precipitously turning the steering wheel left and right in reaction to the obstacles continuously falling on their path.
They couldn't get lucky forever; some of these heavy raindrops had to land straight on them eventually. It was all the more inevitable considering the detours and drifts that Orianna had to make sometimes. Even so, the car wasn't stopping or getting smashed into a thousand pieces. They had their guardian to thank for it – when a debris threatened to crash onto them, it was split in half and missed them entirely. How many times Hatsuyo could pull it off, no one knew, but it was keeping them alive so far.
On the other hand...
"This won't work." Orianna growled and she steered to the right. "If I try to pass through with brute force, we're more likely to get squashed."
A direct consequence of the stone deluge was that their options were reduced drastically. The slope she had hoped to escape through was right next to them, yet too many times she was forced to pick survival and turn away. Debris stopped falling soon enough and they were still vanishing one by one, but it was too unpredictable take advantage of. Stopping or turning back were not possible either, not without putting themselves in additional danger.
In the end, the low slope was behind them.
"No two ways about it. We'll find another way out." The car kept following the edge of the valley, althout not in a straight line. "You've been in this place longer than me, don't you have any idea?"
"We had other things to do than admiring the landscape!" Michael's safety belt was keeping him from diving into the windshield. Even then he had to hold to whatever he could to avoid hitting his head somewhere. "Even if we knew, we're still going the same way! Make an entire loop if you have to!"
Behind him, Ewald was leaning forward and tried to add something. That was the first time since they had started driving, so it had to be important. But between the ruckus around them and the sound of made by their own vehicle, his words were more faint than a whisper. In stark contrast, their ears were suddenly assaulted by a strident noise right above their head. Considering the situation, Michael's heart nearly stopped; Ladylee and Chris screamed in their seat with their eyes closed.
Before they knew it, the car's roof was gone.
As it turned out however, they didn't owe that to some stray debris hitting at a fortunate angle. What had done it was the sharp edge of a katana – Hatsuyo had managed to cut off the roof in one fell stroke without falling off and was now holding it in one hand. Rather than give some justification, she balanced herself on the front seats' headrests and took aim. Now that they had a perfect view of the sky, the passengers and the driver could see a new wave of mud falling from the heavens.
The Unborn's raging silhouette was outlined by the approaching dawn, as though it were an incarnation of the night's desire to remain overlong. It was fighting more wildly than ever, standing upright and swinging its fists at the sky. A flash of light illuminated it in all its horror for a split second; if there had been a thunderclap, it had been silenced by the chaos.
That extreme agitation led to more of the giant's cursed blood spilling over.
One drop in particular was threatening them; Hatsuyo drew back her arm and threw the car's severed roof like a discus. The shape made it less than ideal as a throwing weapon but her accuracy was daunting: the improvised projectile crashed into the falling mud and dispersed it before it got too close to them.
"If you don't know, keep going!" Afterward, the samurai girl bent over and stabilized herself by grabbing onto the edge of the windshield. "If we get trapped, just keep us alive! They're going to win eventually...!"
Thank you for reading.
This chapter should have been finished days ago, but some irl problems have dragged things out. Hopefully this won't affect the last chapters.
~Legends Storyteller
