"Well, Shirou?" Rin's fist pounded on the door as she expressed her irritation with her classmate. "I'll give you a count of three before I force my way in."
"One!" Shirou sighed and twisted the lock open, but hesitated.
Dare I? he thought. It'll be be fun to mess with her, but she may very well try to kill me.
Arthur went to open the door, though he stopped in place when Shirou held up his hand, the boy sporting a mischievous smile.
"Two!" Rin shouted, as Shirou heard a sigh from what could only be her blade-wielding companion.
At the thought of the well-armored, white-haired man, Shirou paused. Wait, Arthur is Saber. What exactly is her servant, then?
"Three!"
Immediately after Rin finished her count, Shirou flung the door open. Rin's fist, which seemed about to return to pounding – belying her threat to blow up the entrance to his home, he thought, amused – swung at air, and the unbalanced female magus toppled over with an indignant shriek, falling face first into Shirou's chest with a slight thud.
"I'm going to kill you, Emiya," Rin threatened, her voice muffled by Shirou's mildly bloodied T-shirt.
"I'm sure you will, Tohsaka," Shirou replied, unable to keep his amusement out of his voice.
He took stock of the situation: Arthur was staring at the magi with an unreadable look, though there was a spark of humor crinkling the skin about his blue eyes. Rin's servant had an equally unreadable emotion on his face, though the tightly restrained anger in his expression differentiated the man's reaction from Arthur's. Rin, of course, was sprawled against his chest, her face mostly hidden but her slightly visible cheeks burning a bright pink.
No one seemed especially willing to make the first move, so Shirou took charge. "Rin, I don't especially mind having you in my arms, but I think we have some things to discuss."
Rin pushed hard against him, causing him to slightly stagger, and found her way to her feet again, giving him an extra shove for good measure. That glare she's giving me doesn't really work with the blush still on her face, Shirou mused. He chalked it up as his victory, then turned serious.
"Tohsaka," he nodded to Rin, who maintained her annoyance, "and unnamed companion of Tohsaka," he nodded to the mentioned man, who gave him a glare of his own, "I would really appreciate it if you explained your purpose in coming here. I haven't yet had time to discuss the finer points of the grail war with my servant, but I don't believe it's all too normal for enemy masters and servants to meet without engaging in battle. That said, I don't especially want to fight against anyone, so if you have other intentions, please tell me them."
Rin's angry expression turned to shock, though it was quickly replaced by exasperation. "Shirou, if I wanted to fight you, why would I have knocked on the door in the first place?"
"Well, maybe–"
"Just let us in, you idiot," Rin said as she pushed past Shirou into the living room, followed closely by her companion, who gave him an even harder push. She claimed the chair for herself, acting as though she'd lived there her entire life.
Her companion took up a post behind his master, his angry gaze sweeping the room before landing on Arthur, resting there for a few seconds longer than Shirou was comfortable with. He took the opportunity to close the door, discretely motioning for Arthur to keep an eye on the other servant. The redcoat-clad man already looked bored, slumping against the wall with a sigh before turning to his master and speaking.
"Master, even if the boy is a previously unknown magus, he summoned a servant. That makes him our enemy. Why are we even here?" questioned the swordsman.
Condescension dripped from the man's words, and Shirou found himself instantly annoyed by Rin's servant. I liked him better back when he didn't speak, he thought.
"Because he has no idea what he's gotten himself into, and it is my duty as manager of the city to ensure he doesn't accidentally reveal the existence of magic," replied Rin, the very picture of poise and confidence.
"Tohsaka, I've been a magus ever since my dad rescued me from the Fuyuki fire. I know what I'm not supposed to do in front of non-magi." The girl deflated in an instant, and shot Shirou yet another glare.
Shirou paused, trying to confirm a niggling suspicion of his. "Did you forget that my dad was Kiritsugu Emiya? The magus killer? How on earth did you not realize that I was a magus before today?"
Rin sputtered for a moment, her face again red. "Of-of course I know who your father was! I just didn't think he'd be stupid enough to teach you magecraft." She calmed herself before continuing.
"Well, you obviously didn't know a thing about the grail war when you were fighting that servant earlier, so I'm sure this trip wasn't a complete waste of–"
"Actually, I think I know pretty much everything now, and my servant–" Shirou interrupted as he gestured to Arthur, who was watching Rin's companion warily from his spot by the door, "should be able to tell me the rest."
The king gave a firm nod, not taking his eyes off of the other servant. "I am indeed able," he replied.
"That-that's ridiculous, how could he possibly know everything? Archer didn't–" Rin's eyes went wide as she realized what she had just accidentally revealed. Her servant put his face in his hands, letting out an audible groan.
"Thank you, master, for revealing my class to an enemy," ground out the newly named Archer through his gritted teeth.
If he were any more sarcastic, he might actually wrap back around to sincerity, Shirou thought, amused, as he considered the new information. An Archer who can fight with blades, then? Arthur did say that personal skills could grant abilities unrelated to a servant's class, though I do wonder why he possesses those white and black falchions. What were their names, again? Oh, right, Kanshou and Bakuya, the married blades, forged by the blacksmith–
Shirou clutched at his head, recognizing an echo of the event from minutes prior. He willed his knowledge of the blades to end, and took a deep breath. Rin and Archer were busy glaring at one another, ignorant of his plight, but Arthur looked concerned. Shirou mouthed 'I'm okay' at the king, and Arthur fell back against the doorframe, relieved.
I have an idea. It's either really smart or really stupid, and I'm not sure which, Shirou thought to himself.
"Tohsaka." Shirou caught Rin's attention, tearing it away from her battle of wills with her servant. "We should ally with one another."
Her servant opened his mouth to respond, likely in the negative if his expression was to be believed, but Rin beat him to the punch.
"And why would I want to do that?" she questioned, her face settling into a neutral expression.
Shirou smiled. "A few reasons, first of which is strategic value."
He turned to Arthur. "I think you should reveal your class to them."
Arthur stared back, mildly surprised, before he spoke. "Are you certain? Honor is a virtue, but revealing important information to potential enemies is foolhardy at best."
Shirou nodded decisively. Taking it as both acknowledgement and certainty, Arthur turned to Rin and Archer.
"I am servant Saber."
The reactions of the magus and her servant differed greatly. Rin looked both contemplative and slightly annoyed, but restrained from asking questions, expecting elaboration from Shirou. Archer, however, stared very forcefully at Arthur, his gaze revealing naked shock.
"Ugh," groaned the servant of the bow, who closed his eyes, seemingly deep in thought.
Shirou noticed the white-haired man's reaction, but decided that prying would only serve to ruin his chances of successfully allying with his peer. He turned to Rin.
"Though your servant is obviously capable of close combat, given your battle with the servant who tried to kill me, I believe he is almost certainly better at long range, preferably in a support role. I am not yet certain of all of my servant's combat capabilities, but by nature of his class, I do not believe he can fight very well from long range. I would aid him, but I doubt that my magecraft can seriously harm a servant."
Well, maybe those divine flames can do it, he mentally added, but after what just happened with Clyfodran, I don't want to use those without a lot more experimentation.
Shirou paused for breath, his eyes searching Rin's for a response. The latter magus kept her face set, giving away nothing. Shirou continued.
"Similarly, while I do not know all of your capabilities, judging from your actions against the female servant, you are also not entirely suited for close range combat." He paused again, this time for effect. "Thus, it makes strategic sense to ally, as we can cover each others' weaknesses: Saber and I can work against masters and servants in close quarters, while yourself and Archer can provide long range support."
Rin looked indecisive, Shirou noticed, and Archer seemed to still be lost in thought.
"Beyond strategy, there's the issue of information gathering. Two servants scouting in intangible form can cover a lot more ground than one," Shirou explained. "Four minds analyzing information are certainly better than two, and our differing viewpoints will allow one of us to find something missed by the others. For instance, I already have the name of the servant we fought, and I am almost certain of her class by nature of her identity, but I know nearly nothing of her full capabilities."
Rin's eyes flashed with interest, but she gestured for Shirou to continue.
"Ignoring tactical advantages, there's also the matter of safety in numbers. I trust you–" Rin's cheeks turned a little pink at the admission, "enough to assume that you won't stab me in the back, and I hope the fact that I voluntarily revealed my servant's class to you, invited you into my house," Rin's cheeks flushed a tad darker, "and get along with you at school will allow you to trust me."
Rin was silent for a moment, before asking the obvious question. "Why do you trust me?"
It was Shirou's turn to blush. "I, ah, may have possibly followed you around for a week when I learned you were a magus." His face was the picture of innocence, though it was belied by the sweat beginning to form on his forehead. Rin looked at him, her expression promising pain.
"You stalked me?" she growled, causing Shirou to gulp.
"I was told by my dad that magi were amoral bastards who didn't care about others, so I wanted to make sure you weren't killing anyone. I checked everywhere, from your workshop to your bedroom–" "You looked where?!" Rin shouted, her face beet red, a small sphere of darkness swirling about the finger she had pointed at Shirou.
"This was back when I was 9!" Shirou yelped, dodging the curse shot his way by Rin. It splashed harmlessly on the wall behind him, the bounded field absorbing the magical bullet. "I didn't know any better!"
Arthur looked on, amused, and even Archer came out of his thoughts, adopting a smirk at the sight of Shirou begging Rin for mercy. However, his eyes suggested that he was still considering something.
The female magus sighed and lowered her hand. "Alright. I'm not happy about you going into my bed-bedroom," her blush remained on her face, "but your reasons for wanting an alliance make sense, and I trust that you're too nice a person to be lying." The tone she used for the word 'nice' made it sound to Shirou as though she meant 'stupid'.
Honestly, she probably did, he considered.
"I think it's a terrible idea, myself." Archer looked more than a bit annoyed. "Even if an alliance makes sense, why make one with him of all people?"
Seriously, what the heck is his deal? Shirou wondered, not for the first time.
"He's someone I know, his rationale is sound, he seems to have an acceptable grasp of tactics, and he's the one who offered in the first place," Rin responded.
"Are you certain, master?" Rin's servant pressed, "I really don't trust this guy." Archer glared at Shirou, who was visibly confused.
"For what little it is worth, I do feel that an alliance would benefit all four of us," said Arthur, giving his own input.
Shirou considered doing the same, but realized that now might not be the right time to mess with his fellow magus.
Rin nodded. "Archer, you've known Shirou for less than an hour. He spends a significant amount of his free time fixing broken machines, without any compensation. I don't think I've ever seen him be mean to another human being. If there's anyone we can trust, it's him."
"I don't like this," Archer said with a sigh, "but I'll accede to your desire, master."
Shirou spoke, a grin on his face. "It's settled, then."
He turned to Rin. "Before anything else, I should probably tell you who that woman we fought was."
Upon hearing the statement, Arthur raised his finger to his lips, warning his master not to reveal too much.
I'll have to make up something convincing regarding how I know this, Shirou thought. I'll claim she told me as she tried to kill me; that should be enough to appease Rin.
"Her name?" Rin said, obviously impatient.
He coughed. "Morgan. She told me herself right as she almost strangled me to death, just before I accidentally summoned Saber. I'm also pretty sure she's Caster, given the way she fought."
"Wait, she was with you? Archer and I destroyed that wooden colossus she created, and she was there shooting objects at us the whole time. At least, until she ran away." Rin asked, somewhat confused.
"Did either of you actually get hit by anything she shot at you?" Shirou asked in response.
Rin shook her head, as did Archer, begrudgingly.
"It was probably an illusion, then. She taunted Saber and I with one after I summoned him," Shirou concluded, before continuing.
"Though she didn't tell me more, I'm pretty sure there's only one woman named Morgan who would fight the way she did."
"Morgan le Fay. Obviously. Get to the point." Archer's words were snappish, but not inaccurate.
Shirou sighed. "Yeah. She probably has the power to shapeshift, given that Mr. Kawasaki had claw marks all over him, and she's obviously able to do something to get all of those objects to follow her."
Rin echoed his sigh. "So we've got an incredibly dangerous Caster with unknown abilities, including at least two that make tracking her without directly finding her prana signature impossible. Great."
The room looked more or less as it did before the alliance was formed. Arthur stood guard by the door, his eyes sharp and his gauntlet clenched around what looked to be air. Archer slouched, scowling, against the wall, staring at the TV playing a special on the unexplained death of various criminals. Rin sat on the chair in front of the bowman, deep in thought. Shirou was pacing, his feet unconsciously tracing out the image of the left knight on the carpet.
"Shirou, would you be willing to speak with me in private?" Arthur asked, disturbing the silence.
"Huh? Oh, sure. Let's go to the kitchen, I should probably get started on dinner. Follow me." Shirou turned and Arthur followed, taking a glance at the other master-servant pair on his way out. Rin seemed to have come to a revelation of sorts, and was deep in conversation with Archer.
They passed by two of the guest bedrooms on the floor, crossing through the stately dining room before reaching the kitchen. It was furnished ornately, with a floor of alternating silver and white tiles, an island made of marble with its own sink in the middle. There were teak cabinets with two images of cups engraved on its doors, and a crown engraved on the drawer above them. Both sinks were stainless steel, though the faucets were stylized with the same engravings of the cup. The dishwasher, stove, refrigerator, and microwave were somewhat incongruous with the aesthetic, each colored white with black accents.
Shirou opened one of the cabinets and in series pulled out a wok, a series of measuring cups, a pot, and a pasta roller, leaving them all on the counter. He rummaged through another cabinet, finding the strong flour, sesame oil, soy sauce, and olive oil he wanted, placing them next to the other items.
"So, what did you want to talk about, Arthur?" Shirou asked as he hunted through the spice cabinet for ginger, miso, and soy sauce.
"Before anything else, I would request that you refer to me as Saber at all times, until and unless my identity is fully compromised," Arthur stated, an edge of seriousness to his voice. "Though we are now allied with Archer and his master, I do not trust them, especially not Archer."
"That makes two of us," Shirou replied, grabbing a clove of garlic before opening the fridge, hunting for a selection of vegetables. "He seems to strongly dislike me for whatever reason, and the feeling is slowly becoming mutual."
"Oh? That is rather interesting. In my case, I have the sense that I know him from somewhere, but do not recall the place or time. Taking into account a different topic that we need to discuss with all haste, that is a very poor omen," Arthur stated, fascinated by the variety of vegetables Shirou removed.
"And what is that topic, exactly?" asked the magus, engaged in a hunt for raw pork and previously-made chicken broth in the upper reaches of the refrigerator.
"This is not the first time I have been a servant in a grail war. I was last summoned in the war preceeding this one by your father, Kiritsugu," Arthur bluntly responded.
Shirou froze.
"Repeat that, please." His voice was calm, but his mind was in turmoil.
My father was involved in one of these? When? How? Why didn't he tell me? he thought.
"I was summoned by Kiritsugu Emiya and Irisviel von Einzbern to participate in the Fourth Grail War. However," Arthur hastened to add, "I retain no memories of the war beyond that of the immediate events surrounding my summoning."
"And that's why you know more than other servants would? Because you've experienced this whole thing before?" Shirou asked, resuming his search for the broth, the pork secured and placed on the counter.
"Precisely. It is also why I am wary of Archer. If a portion of my mind is telling me that I have met him before, but I do not know where, it is likely that he too was a servant in that war," Arthur spoke, the clipped tone of his words betraying his annoyance over his missing memories.
"Alright. We'll have to hope that your memories return, and weren't ruined due to the abnormal manner in which you were summoned." Shirou said, finally locating the broth.
Arthur agreed, saying as much. He paused.
"Master, I believe that now is as good a time as any to go over some of the abilities I didn't mention while we were outside."
Shirou waved him on with the hand not being used to mince the garlic, ginger, and pork.
Arthur nodded in turn, staring at the sheer variety of items on the counter. "As with most servants, I am able to detect prana signatures, giving me a rough knowledge of any other approaching servants or magi. Unfortunately, my ability to distinguish individual signatures is quite weak: were I to be summoned into the Caster class for whatever reason, it would likely be much stronger."
"Anything else I should know about servants as a whole, before we get into your own abilities?" Shirou asked as he began to knead the flour into dough, having added water to it as Arthur expounded on his capabilities.
"Yes. By reaching your consciousness out to the prana flow between us, you are able to communicate with me telepathically, as well as see through my eyes, should you so desire," Arthur said. "I recommend doing this to scout the area, if needed, keeping yourself from danger."
"I have no intention of forcing you into dangerous situations on your lonesome, Saber," Shirou said, continuing his comment to prevent Arthur from getting a word in edgewise.
"I'd like to try the telepathy right now, if that's okay with you?" Shirou requested.
"Certainly," Arthur said.
Shirou concentrated on the flow of prana from him to his servant, forcing his thoughts towards it.
"Did it work?" he thought.
"It did indeed," came Arthur's response. "You should also be aware that this telepathic communication is not limited by distance."
"Alright," Shirou thought back before switching to speech once more.
"Is there anything else to know?" he asked, returning to working the dough.
"No, I do not believe so. Would you prefer to finish this conversation after you have finished preparing dinner?"
"Yeah. I'd hate to waste these ingredients by not focusing enough on an important step."
Arthur watched with interest as Shirou ran the dough through the pasta roller again and again, until, satisfied with its length and thickness, he took a knife to it to create udon. He filled the pot with boiling water and placed the udon in it until satisfied, straining then chilling the noodles. At the same time, he added oil to the wok, lightly fried the ginger, pork, and garlic, added carrots, celery, and cabbage, and stirred. Shirou then poured the broth into the wok, mixing in soy sauce and sugar. He turned down the heat and added miso, letting it melt, finally turning back to an amused Arthur.
"You seem to enjoy cooking," the king observed.
"My father was absolutely hopeless in the kitchen, my current legal guardian might be even worse, and I knew how to read when I was rescued by my dad. Many, many cookbooks later, here I am," Shirou explained.
"Rescued?" questioned Arthur.
"Yeah, I'm not Kiritsugu's biological son. We think my parents died in the Fuyuki fire, whoever they were, and he adopted me," Shirou said as he scrunched his face in thought, absentmindedly removing the noodles from their ice bath. "You said something about remembering Irisviel von Einzbern, right?"
"That is correct."
"She was my father's wife; he never told me how she died, though given what you just told me I'd guess it probably involved the grail war. This place used to be her family's, though I suppose they gave it to my dad as a wedding present or something," Shirou stated, slowly stirring the soup.
"They actually had a kid, Illyasviel, I think her name was, but Irisviel's family refused to let Kiritsugu see her. He tried sneaking into their place a few times, but I don't believe he managed it. I think part of the reason my father adopted me in the first place was to try to replace her, actually," Shirou said, turning off the heat and adding a bit of sesame oil.
"Alright, we have to wait a bit for the temperature of everything to even out a bit," he said, turning to face the king, "so let's talk about your abilities."
"Very well. You saw me summon Clyfodran, sword of Bors, yes?"
Shirou nodded.
"I do not possess that specific noble phantasm; however, I have the ability, when in dire need, to summon the heroic spirits of the knights of the round table to my side. It requires an immense amount of prana, such that, should I utilize it, the both of us would likely be incapacitated for half a day, if not longer."
Incredibly powerful, but liable to take both Arthur and I out of commission. Got it, Shirou thought to himself.
"That is admittedly quite strong, but it doesn't really explain why you can summon their swords," Shirou stated, finally pouring in the chilled noodles.
"Do you recall my words regarding the origin of noble phantasms, Shirou?" asked Arthur.
The magus nodded. "They are reflections of your life and deeds, granting you power either directly or indirectly."
"Correct. There exists a body of tales on the knights of the round table. From slaying monsters, to winning wars, to finding the very grail itself, the deeds of these brave men grant them residence in the throne of heroes. Each man, on his own, is a paragon. And yet...," Arthur paused.
The monarch stood tall, directing the full force of himself outwards. "And yet, to whom did they swear fealty? To whose table did they link their very souls? The mythos is Arthurian, and the works of my knights are as much a part of my legend as those done by my hand. From Caradoc to Erec, from Kay to Perceval, their deeds retain a dual nature: even as they enhanced their own status, they exalted mine! Some existed in my realm whose selves surpassed my dominion, those such as Merlin Ambrosius whose works are beyond my claim. But of the others, of the knights of my table? They are as much a part of me as are my sword and crown."
His gauntlet flashed a rainbow of colors, the weapon clutched in his hand shifting from blade to blade: in one moment a shortsword with a noxious green blade, two serpent's fangs at its end, in another a rapier glowing a brilliant white, its length etched in the letters of the celestial tongue. Their names seared themselves across Shirou's mind, stabbing themselves into a hill he only vaguely perceived: Pysguread, Teyrnolfod, Maircllewr, Rhilltawdd, Arondight, Fwrhylin, Setarfoad, Galatine, Ysgrumelfa, Treildfigen, and Wyneidraich.
King Arthur drew himself inward. "That is why I can summon their blades as easily as my own, for in a very real sense, they are mine. Their deeds, their heroics, their very selves: they are but aspects of my own legend."
Shirou was blindsided by the vehemence in his servant's voice. The words he spoke were true, but this was by far the most eloquent the man had been in the hour they had known one another.
It's mildly terrifying, to be honest, he thought. For the first time since the summoning, he saw the golden-haired man before him not as a warrior, but as a king.
Arthur reverted his gauntlet to its normal form, a small and sheepish smile resting on his face. "I apologize for that display, master. I am incredibly proud of what I and my knights accomplished in our lives, and in expressing my joy I may have gone slightly overboard."
"No, no, it's fine," Shirou said, his head still reeling from the eleven-fold influx of information. He checked the soup. Still too hot.
"Do you have any other weapons? Other than Excalibur, I mean," Shirou asked, his aching head making him uncertain that he wanted a positive answer.
Arthur frowned. "I do possess other blades belonging to my knights, but beyond those, I do not. It seems that my dagger and lance do not fit my class, and have been taken from me."
Shirou sighed. "Oh well. Guess we're not going to be able to pass you off as Lancer or a particularly bold Assassin, then. Is there anything specific that you feel needs to be said about Excalibur, or does 'faerie sword without equal' just about cover it?"
"I maintain it's anonymity by sheathing it in air," Arthur pointed to his right gauntlet, apparently clutching at nothing. Shirou felt a jolt as prana drained from him at an accelerated rate, barely making out a golden glow between the swirling winds.
"Its primary function is indeed as a sword without peer. Excalibur can also release variably sized bursts of energy at my enemies, the size and power of which might range from annihilating an enemy in my immediate vicinity to splitting the sky in twain; however, its power remains locked by my own design."
"Why would you lock your own power away?" asked Shirou, dipping a spoon in the soup and testing its temperature once more. Almost there.
"Because all weapons can be taken, Shirou. Morgan once stole it from me and tried to ransom it in exchange for the death of Guinivere. Though Lancelot rode forth and retrieved my blade, it was agreed that leaving its power unchecked would likely lead to future events of a similar nature."
I really shouldn't ask this, he thought, but I also really want to know.
"This may be insensitive, but..." Shirou hesitated.
"I will not know if it is insensitive or not until you ask the question," Arthur said, smiling.
"You're right, I suppose. I would like to know this: how could Mordred have defeated you at Camlann when you possessed such a blade?" Shirou asked.
Arthur's smile dropped off his face. The king suddenly looked tired and worn, a stunning contrast to his earlier radiant nobility.
"Do you know what my wish – the desire that caused the grail to summon me to this war – is?" the king asked rhetorically, his voice soft. "It is not rule everlasting, nor is it desire for abdication. I wear my crown heavy, but I wear it well. No, it is nothing so grand. It is to have been a father to Mordred rather than a king; to have raised him as my own, and not shunted him to the side."
Arthur paused, wiping the beginning of a tear from his eye before continuing.
"It is wrong to be an illegitimate child, I said to myself, ignoring that I too was the child of two who were unwed. He will learn humility this way, I thought. But every time I praised Gareth over him, he despaired. Every time I played games with Ywain in his place, he grew resentful. My son grew up unloved, a veritable exile in his own home. His rebellion was in the end my fault; how could I in good conscience raise my peerless blade against the man I created? No, I would grant him a fair fight: it was the very least he deserved from me, the parent who wasn't."
The king sighed. "Neither myself nor Mordred truly desired war. We sent messages of peace to one another. But one foolish knight raised his blade in the company of my counterpart, a lifetime of well-earned mistrust gave rise to a single grievous error, and we bled each other on the fields of Camlann, I mortally wounded, my son dead."
Arthur looked at Shirou, an expression of pleading unsuited for the man engraved on his face. "That is why I must win this war. That is why I fight. I fight so that I shall never have reason to raise my sword against my son. I fight because, in my negligence, my only child died in the arms of his father. I fight because for all the people I saved through my reign, the one I damned matters most."
Was that why his father clung to him so, Shirou wondered; was Arthur's regret powerful enough to turn the magus killer into a caring father?
Honestly, I think it might have been. He checked the soup. Perfect.
"Dinner was very nice," Rin remarked, fiddling with one of her gems as they walked from the dining room, the sapphire glimmering with arcane light. "I didn't know you were also an orphan, twice-over at that."
"Well, I don't remember anything before my father rescued me from the fire, so the first time doesn't really count as far as I'm concerned," Shirou replied, opening the door for Rin, Archer and Arthur having faded into their prana forms. "We're now going to the church to see...Kirei Kotomine, right?"
"Yes. He's the overseer of the fifth grail war, the person in charge of making sure things don't get out of hand; apparently his father performed in that role for the fourth and third wars. He's also a priest – not that he believes in god – and, to my disgust, my legal guardian," Rin explained, a scowl on her face.
"So you're bringing me to him to register as another contestant?" Shirou asked, avoiding the last two statements brought up by his fellow magus.
Rin sighed. "Exactly. I just really don't want to deal with him."
"I've noticed," Shirou said, drily. "Any particular reason for that?"
"He's an absolute sadist who enjoys nothing more than mocking me," Rin replied. "He's also the one who formally taught me magecraft, so I know him too well to be fooled by the veneer of kindness he wears."
Sounds like a pretty awful guy, Shirou thought. I'll stay wary around him.
They traveled in silence, neither having much to say, and they arrived at the church within a short period of time.
The church looked like a standard house of worship, with an ornate cross on the roof, stained glass windows providing a view of the pews and lectern, and a mixed brick and wood exterior, painted off-white. The decorations on the path to the church doors were sparse, a few bushes and trees isolated in a sea of uncut grass and weeds, and a weather-worn statue of Mary holding her child. The building looked old, and the newer paint couldn't cover the rot taking place along the lower edges of the structure.
Shirou opened the door for Rin, who entered with a nod of thanks in the boy's direction.
The man they sought stood calmly in front of them, an analytical gaze sweeping the two teenage magi. His hair was black and moderately long, reaching to his shoulders, and he wore a blue coat around black priestly garments.
He smiled in Rin's direction, though Shirou noted that his eyes held no trace of good humor.
"Is this our seventh master?" Kirei asked her, to which she responded with a nod.
"Is he your boyfriend?" the priest continued, a glimmer in his eyes.
"Wh-what?" sputtered Rin and Shirou in concert.
"He-he's not my–" Rin squeaked out, her face red.
"She's not my girlfriend, Mr. Kotomine," Shirou said. "We are schoolmates, however, and I'd at least call her a friend."
Rin glared at the priest, who kept his smile.
"Very well. What is your name, not-boyfriend?" Kirei asked, turning to Shirou and ignoring Rin's attempt at optically-transmitted murder.
"Shirou Emiya, Mr. Kotomine," he replied. Kirei's expression lit up when Shirou stated his last name.
"Well, Mr. Emiya, this war must be kept entirely secret. Attempts to harm anyone other than fellow masters or servants will not be tolerated. Am I clear?" the priest asked, to which Shirou responded with a nod.
"If your servant dies, you may come to this church, where I will grant you sanctuary," Kirei continued, "further, any attempts to assault defeated masters will be considered as if you were harming an unrelated innocent."
He paused. "That covers pretty much everything important. I wish you luck, Mr. Emiya."
The priest turned from them, and Shirou caught sight of a red pattern on Kirei's right arm as the priest's coat twirled around him.
Rin turned to him, her face again impassive, and spoke emphatically. "Let's leave. Now."
"Sure, let's go," Shirou said, beginning to understand exactly why Rin disliked her guardian.
They continued in silence, though Shirou pondered the crimson marks he saw on Kirei's arm. Those looked...almost like command seals, he thought.
He looked down at his right hand in the light of a nearby streetlamp. The command seals were shaped like a sword with two chess knights on its sides, the sword surrounded by an aura and the knights with blank skin for eyes and a dot of red for a pupil.
"Rin, did you also notice that Kirei's right arm looks like it has command seals on it?" Shirou asked, breaking the silence between them.
"As the overseer of the war, he has the ability to give out extra command seals," Rin replied. "However, I know those seals are on his left forearm, not his right. Are you certain that you saw them on his right arm?"
"Not entirely, but I think it might be a poor idea to take his offer of hospitality if Archer or Saber fall in battle," Shirou said.
"I wasn't planning to in the first place, but if you're right, we should try our best to avoid the church entirely."
"Agreed."
The short conversation over, they walked for another 5 minutes before Shirou heard a voice in his head.
"Shirou, I detect two people coming your way, both of whom have immense amounts of prana," came the voice of Arthur. "Be careful."
Shirou looked over to Rin, who seemed to be engaging in a mental conversation with Archer.
As they slowed down, Shirou heard steps from across the street, followed by the sight of two people. One was a massive, hulking man in an exquisitely tailored blue suit. He had long black hair reaching to the small of his back, a complexion more tan than that of Archer, and a mildly impassive look on his face. The man carried an ornate sword with him, though Shirou did not recognize it as anything but a well-forged blade. His eyes were narrowed, some unfathomable degree of calculation going on behind his brown gaze.
On his shoulders sat a small girl with long silver hair and bright red eyes. She wore a purple blouse over a pink shirt, a pink skirt and purple boots rounding out her ensemble. She was smiling, and looked rather adorable for it.
The girl caught sight of Shirou and Rin, hurried her companion forward, and widened her smile. She dismounted and waved at the two magi across the road.
"Hi, big brother!" she said to a confused Shirou. "Are you ready to die?"
She smiled still, but the look of hatred in her eyes belied her innocent expression. Beside Rin, Archer and Arthur faded into view, ignored by the small girl.
Shirou thought for a second, then peered closely at the girl.
"Illyasviel?" he asked, staring directly at her.
"Yep!" the girl responded cheerfully, and in the same tone of voice, gave an order.
"Berserker, kill everyone." The hulking man gave a nod and stretched, slightly tearing the suit.
He turned to the four on the other side of the street, smirked, drew his sword, and charged.
AN: Some people seem to think that this is Saber from the Prototype series. Well, while it sort of is, this is actually the 6th century Welsh/English warrior king from such works as the Historia Regum Britanniae and Le Morte d'Arthur, or at least as close as I can get while remaining in Nasu's world. Well, kinda, at least. Hopefully. It's complicated, and, loathe as I am to say even this much, a plot point.
Oh, and I think the Udon Miso Soup would taste pretty good, but I've never made it and came up with the recipe/steps by remembering things from watching too many episodes of Iron Chef. So, uh, don't use this as a cookbook.
